Tsewang Samphel
Tsewang Samphel, 83, from Shagar village, Zanskar, Ladakh, India, was born into a Ladakh marked by abject poverty and severe shortages of basic essentials. To sustain their livelihoods, many people from Zanskar and other parts of Leh and Kargil undertook seasonal migrations to a place generically referred to by the Zanskari people as Nyungti. Despite extensive inquiries, the exact meaning of the word remains unclear. For the people of Zanskar, Nyungti seemed to encompass areas around Manali and Mandi, and occasionally extended to Shimla and Punjab.
Samphel was around 15 years old, when he first embarked on the journey to Nyungti. This seasonal migration took place before the harsh winters, a time when the extreme cold and heavy snowfall in Zanskar and other parts of Ladakh rendered farming impossible. The milder weather in the plains provided a more hospitable environment and employment opportunities for Ladakhi workers. After completing the harvest and threshing of barley, Samphel, along with fellow villagers, began the arduous trek toward Nyungti via the Shinkula Pass. Unlike labourers from the Suru Valley where such migrations were typically undertaken by men, the Zanskari groups included both men and women. Samphel’s wife Padma Lamo, now 92 years old, was among the many women who worked as labourers in Nyungti. Traveling in groups of 15-20, they often encountered other Zanskari groups making the same journey. The trek to Nyungti, often referring to Manali in this context, typically took 5-6 days.
Once in Nyungti, the Zanskari men and women worked under various contractors, primarily on road construction projects. Samphel recalls meeting labourers from Leh, both men and women, who likely traveled via the Changthang route to Manali. Among them was Mipham Ringmo, a man from Choglamsar village in Leh, who served as a supervisor in Manali. Mipham played a vital role in helping Ladakhis secure jobs and ensuring they were paid on time. At that time, the daily wage rate was 12 annas (16 annas equaled one rupee). During their 3-4 month stay in Manali, the Ladakhi labourers endured challenging conditions, constructing makeshift shelters known as Sai Tapur or Chini, built from stones and shrubs, which served as their temporary homes.
Padma Lamo
Before returning home in the 1st or 2nd month of the Ladakhi calendar, the labourers from Zanskar followed a unique ritual of stitching new shoes to prepare for the snowy trek across the Shinkula Pass, which partially reopened during this time. The process of shoemaking was a significant event in the lives of Zanskari labourers, requiring both time and effort. Layers of tsalee-bora (nylon sacks) were cut, layered, and stitched together with threads made from the stems of a local plant called zaa-tchot, resulting in durable, weather-resistant footwear essential for the journey. Once the shoes were ready, the men usually set off first, navigating the snow-laden and treacherous trails, while the women waited for safer travel conditions till the snow cleared fully before beginning their trek. Some Zanskari labourers opted for an alternate route via Paddar in Jammu before making their way back to Zanskar.
Back in Zanskar, once winter passed, two distinct groups of Changpa nomads became integral to the region’s trade network, supplying essential salt. The first group, the Kharnak Changpas, traveled from the northeast along the Junglam trek route, starting from Dat in Kharnak region of Changthang and crossing the Charcharla Pass to enter Zanskar near Zangla. These nomads typically conducted their trade in areas around Zangla and Padum. Occasionally, some of the Kharnak Changpas would travel westward to the Stod region, towards the Pensila Pass, often bypassing Samphel’s village of Shagar and favoring locations such as Akshow. The second group, the Rupshu Changpas, approached Zanskar from the southeast, traveling along the Leh-Himachal highway and turning off before Serchu to enter Zanskar through the Lingti River and Chumik Marpo. They engaged directly with villages along the way and would travel as far as Shagar. Samphel’s family sourced their salt from this group, following the traditional Dzagos (Friend) system of trade partners. Under this arrangement, each Changpa trader was paired with a designated Dzago family in Zanskar. This family received priority when bartering salt for barley, fostering a reliable and mutually beneficial relationship. Samphel fondly recalls his family’s Dzago, Tsewang Toetoe, who played a pivotal role in maintaining this vital trade connection.
Upon arriving in the village, the Rupshu Changpas would set up camp in a communal field. As part of their custom, they would slaughter a khalpa (male sheep) and share the meat with their Dzago family, reinforcing bonds of trust and mutual respect. This exchange of hospitality was then followed by the bartering of salt for barley. The Changpas typically stayed in the village for 3-4 days, during which they filled their lugal (saddle bags) with barley before embarking on their return journey to Changthang. In addition to salt, the Rupshu Changpas also brought kerosene, a rare and valuable commodity for the Zanskari villagers. They transported small quantities of kerosene in cans strapped to the backs of their sheep. Samphel vividly recalls these exchanges, though he never discovered where the Changpas sourced the kerosene.
Like many of his generation, Samphel traveled for trade to Paddar more than 20 times. Upon reaching Sumcham in Paddar, the Zanskaris would encounter the locals, whom they called Mons. Samphel recalls that the Mons did not understand the Ladakhi language and often greeted them with the phrase Kuru gir dangbhai, which he believes means, “Where are you going?” Samphel often returned with logs of wood, khem (wooden shovels), or chi stey (a local grain) used for making thukpa. While trade generally flowed more from Zanskar to Paddar, traders from Paddar also visited Zanskar, bringing saldang (a bark of a tree used as a tea supplement) , Bal (wool), La-shee ( An oily stick that burned like an incense but used for illumination in the absence of kerosene and electricity), and butter, which were transported on sheep. Once in Zanskar, these items were exchanged for barley.
Samphel is perhaps one of the last traders to have traversed the legendary frozen Chadar route on the Zanskar River, carrying Zanskari butter to sell in Leh. In his youth, he undertook the arduous journey with 20 battis (1 batti is approximately 2 kg each) of butter strapped to his back, navigating the treacherous ice-covered river. Depending on the ice conditions and water levels, the trek typically took 3 to 4 days. Despite the dangers and challenges of the route, Samphel persisted for many years, sustaining his livelihood through this demanding trade. At the time, he earned a modest Rs. 2 per kilogram of butter, a reflection of the economic realities of the period.
Remarkably, Samphel completed the Chadar trek for the last time at the age of 70. By then, his sons had settled in Leh, and his journey had shifted from being a commercial venture to a personal one. Although he still carried a small quantity of butter, his primary purpose was to spend the winter with his son at his home in Pela in Thiksey village. This last trek, much like his final journey to Nyungti, symbolized the closing of a chapter in Samphel’s life and the gradual disappearance of the historic trade practices of the Zanskari people along the frozen Zanskar River. It was not merely the end of his personal endeavours but also a sad farewell to a way of life that had sustained generations in the harsh landscapes of Zanskar.
Nurbu Tashi
Nurbu Tashi, 85, from Sani village in Zanskar, vividly recalled his first journey to Paddar at the age of 25. The route through the Omasila Pass was notorious for heavy snowfall, making the journey perilous. Nurbu and his companions carried ropes to navigate the crevasses and cliffs that dotted the path. Safety was a collective effort; after crossing a difficult section, one person would signal the others to follow. Yet accidents were not uncommon. Nurbu recounted a harrowing moment when his friend, Urgain Tsering, fell into a crevasse. With quick thinking and teamwork, they managed to pull him out using a rope.
In Zanskar, wood was a scarce resource, with Shila being one of the few places where it grew locally. To meet the community's needs, Nurbu and others frequently made the arduous journey to Paddar. On each trip, Nurbu typically brought back five logs of wood, carrying them on his back along with Khem ( wooden shovels) and chib-tsay (a local grain) through treacherous terrain. In Paddar they were often treated to takur, a buckwheat bread popular in the region, a gesture of hospitality that Nurbu remembered fondly. In Zanskar Nurbu sold khem, which he purchased for five rupees, for ten rupees, doubling his investment and supporting his livelihood. Beyond wood and tools, Nurbu also traded for other scarce items. Due to severe winters and heavy snowfall, Zanskar historically had limited grazing grounds, which resulted in fewer livestock and, consequently, less wool production. This scarcity made Nurbu and friends buy wool from Gujjars in Paddar, a vital resource in Zanskar’s harsh winters. Additionally, he brought back butter, another item in short supply in Zanskar, further diversifying the goods he transported. These journeys were not just trade expeditions but a lifeline for Zanskaris, bridging the gap between their isolated valley and the resources they needed to survive.
The Changpa traders who visited Zanskar not only supplied salt but also brought soda and wool. While the soda was a crucial ingredient for making Ladakhi butter tea, the additional wool brought by the Changpas, supplementing supplies from Paddar, was indispensable for enduring Zanskar's long and harsh winters. Nurbu observed that the Kharnak Changpas typically arrived during autumn, while the Rupshu Changpas visited in the summer. When asked about the availability of surplus barley for trade during the summer, Nurbu confirmed that the Zanskaris had sufficient barley to exchange with the nomads.
Like Samphel, Nurbu Tashi also traveled to Nyungti during winters to find work. After the autumn harvest and threshing were completed, Nurbu and his friends prepared for the journey. Groups of 30 to 40 men and women from each village would set out on foot, crossing the Shinkula Pass after which vehicles were available to carry them further. The wage rate at the time was about 2 to 4 annas a day. Every year, Nurbu and friends began their journey in the ninth month of the Ladakhi calendar before the Shinkula closed due to heavy snowfall and returned by the second month of the following year when the Shinkula Pass became partially accessible again. Nurbu, like other male members, recounted his experience of preparing special shoes for the return journey. Using pieces of nylon sacks readily available in Nyungti, they stitched together durable footwear that, according to Nurbu, was “better than leather.” These shoes made a distinctive “chorob-chorob” sound when walking on snow. The journey back was often tougher, as snow had yet to clear near Shinkula, making movement difficult. Men traveled ahead of the women and often faced the challenge of sleeping in the open, sometimes on snow. However, the experienced Zanskaris were well-prepared with warm clothing, their sturdy shoes, and kholak (barley-based food) to sustain them.
Tundup Gyaltsan
Tundup Gyaltsan, 86, is the oldest resident of Pipcha, a remote village near the renowned Bardan Monastery in Zanskar. A man of many talents, Tundup mastered carpentry, masonry, and tailoring, all of which he learned from his father. However, his greatest passion has always been playing the surna, a traditional Ladakhi wind instrument that looks like a Shehnai. As a young man, Tundup often accompanied his father to various villages in Zanskar, where his father was invited to play the surna. Inspired, Tundup began playing the instrument at the age of 18 and has continued ever since. At the time of the interview, he was eagerly preparing for three upcoming weddings in the area, where he had been invited to perform. To preserve this tradition, Tundup has trained two surna players—one in Pipcha and another in Mune village—ensuring that this rich cultural heritage lives on.
In Tundup’s youth, the field called Teeyul in Pipcha was a popular campsite for Changpa nomads who traveled with sheep carrying salt in saddle bags known as lugals. For many years, Tundup worked on this land, which he had leased from the Bardan Monastery. Later in life, when he could afford to buy land elsewhere, he returned the field to the monastery. Today, the monastery uses it to run a school for the village children. Tundup recalls the sharp negotiation skills of the Changpa traders. Although their lugals were only half-filled with salt, they ensured the lugals they received in exchange were packed tightly with barley. Using a special needle called the gyabda, they stitched the bags to maximize the barley load. Tundup’s designated dzago (trade partner) was Jorgey, a distant relative by marriage. Jorgey followed what is now the Leh-Himachal highway, entering Zanskar through Chunkaro and Lingti to reach Pipcha. Tundup confirmed that the Changpas visited twice a year—once in the 4th or 5th month and again in the 9th month. Their visits ceased when the government began supplying salt through the public distribution system.
Besides his multitasking professions, Tundup also traveled to Paddar with his friends to bring back cattle, which he sold in Zanskar. Each person typically brought back two to three cattle, purchased for Rs. 100 each. While Tundup would keep the younger cattle for his own use, the older ones, which were no longer useful in the fields, were sold for Rs. 600. Tundup fondly remembers the Khawaja's of Padum, who were his regular and trusted customers.
Like Samphel and Nurbu Tashi, Tundup also traveled to Nyungti for labor during the winters. This practice was common in Pipcha, with young men and women leaving for work while elders stayed behind to care for children and livestock. Tundup began this migration at 16 and continued until he was 40. The return journey from Nyungti was marked by the tradition of making new shoes. According to Tundup, Zanskaris used a plant called zaatchot to create threads for the shoes. They peeled the stems of the plant, which became strong and durable when twisted, and used it to stitch together layers of tsalee-bora (nylon sacks). The sole was made by layering the sack material to the desired size and thickness, while the upper part of the shoe was crafted from namboo cloth. These handmade boots were designed to protect the wearer’s feet from snow, making the trek back through the Shinkula Pass during the 1st and 2nd months of the Ladakhi calendar more bearable.
While the tradition of seasonal migration among Ladakhi labourers had existed for generations, it gained unprecedented momentum after India's independence in 1947. The launch of large-scale development projects, particularly in the construction of roads, bridges, and other critical infrastructure, created a significant demand for labour in North India. Ladakhi labourers, especially from Zanskar, and the Suru Valley, became an indispensable part of this workforce.
The story of Tsewang Samphel, Padma Lamo, Nurbu Tashi, and Tundup Gyaltsen represents the untold narrative of hundreds, perhaps thousands, of silent Ladakhi men and women who played a crucial role in building infrastructure across northern India in the years following India's independence. During the harsh winters of the mid-20th century, these labourers embarked on mass migrations to regions such as Manali, Shimla, Punjab, Dehradun, and Chakrata. Yet the story of their struggle and their invaluable role in these infrastructure projects, a vital chapter of modern Ladakhi history remains largely undocumented.
-The author extends sincere gratitude to the Honorable Councillor of Karsha, Stanzin Jigmath le for making this visit possible.
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