Showing posts with label Skurbuchan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Skurbuchan. Show all posts

Friday, February 14, 2025

The Seven Rongtsan Brothers of Ladakh

The legend of the Seven Rongtsan brothers, revered as local protectors, is an integral part of Ladakhi folklore and history. Originally believed to have hailed from Bodh Gaya in Bihar, the brothers fled to Tibet before journeying to Ladakh alongside Lama Dorjey Palzang. As they traveled through Ladakh, the Rongtsan brothers settled in various locations along their route, leaving a lasting legacy in the region.


1. Two settled in Gya village and are known as Lchangs-Rang (Pic 1-2).
2. Another two chose to settle in Matho village and are known as Nag-rang (Pic 3-4).
3. The next two settled in Stok village and are known as Ser-rang (Pic 5-6).
4. The last of the brothers settled in Skurbuchan village and is known as Zang-nams (Zangs-rnams).


Pic-1

  Pic-2 

Pic-3

Pic-4

Pic-5

Pic-6

Pic-7


The site, a grove of vegetation along the main road leading to the village, is regarded as one of the most sacred places—not only in Skurbuchan but in the entire region.Every year, before the start of the famous Matho Nagrang festival, four villagers from Matho travel to Skurbuchan to collect seven donkey loads of Shukpa (juniper) from the valleys. According to traditional practice, the visitors from Matho first stop at Zangs-rnams, where they offer prayers, Largyal, and present offerings brought from Matho. Only after these rituals do they proceed to gather Shukpa from the mountains. The Shukpa is then taken back to Matho as a symbolic gift from Zangs-rnams to his brothers in Matho. It is used for the renewal of the shrine of the two brothers during the Matho Nagrang festival, ensuring the continuity of one of Ladakh’s oldest traditions, which has been passed down for centuries.



For more on the Rongtsan brothers, refer to:

Dollfus, Pascale. “The Seven Rongtsan Brothers in Ladakh: Myth, Territory, and Possession.” Études mongoles et sibériennes, centrasiatiques et tibétaines (2006): n. pag. 


Thursday, December 19, 2024

Skurbuchan Village : Sacred Geography and its people

Dorjey Sonam

Dorjey Sonam, 85, of the Kunga Stampelpa family in Skurbuchan village, Ladakh, India, recalls making numerous trips to the salt markets in Chemrey and Sakti villages during his youth. He carried nas (barley) and chuli (dried apricots) from Sham to trade for salt brought by Tibetan traders, whom he remembers coming from the Gerge region of Tibet. This was before the 1962 war with China. The journey was long and arduous, taking seven days on donkeys to reach Sakti from Skurbuchan—five days to Leh and an additional two days from Leh to Sakti. Dorjey vividly recalls the bustling salt markets filled with Tibetan traders and the fields of Sakti and Chemrey alive with thousands of raluk (goats and sheep) grazing across the landscape.

The market was held twice a year: once during spring, known as Spid Tsongs, and again in autumn-Ston Tsongs. The exchange rate at the market fluctuated, with the Tibetans often demanding two to three times the amount of nas in exchange for a given quantity of salt. The Tibetans measured salt using a container called a batti (equivalent to two kilograms), but Dorjey and other traders from Skurbuchan brought their own nyaga (a single-pan traditional balance) along with weights measuring one pao (250 grams), two pao, one kilogram, and eight pao. They typically spent two days at the market, purchasing salt from the Tibetans. While Dorjey only bought salt for personal use, some elders from his village ventured on longer journeys to Baltistan after returning to Skurbuchan. In Baltistan, they traded salt for apricots and butter. The Baltis, in turn, visited Skurbuchan and set up camp at a site in the village called Miyaskor. They brought stone utensils, known as doltoks, which they sold in Skurbuchan and neighbouring villages. These doltoks were transported on wooden frames called Kis-Kis. 

Besides the Sakti-Chemrey salt market, Dorjey Sonam also traveled on foot as far as Lamayuru village and Sonamarg. While his visits to Sonamarg in Kashmir were to buy his annual supply of goods, he visited Lamayuru to pay the heavy government tax in the form of nas. In Sonamarg, he would buy das (rice), toe (wheat), and peas. He recalls that, in those days, Rs 1 could buy 12 kg of peas, 7 kg of wheat, and Rs 2 would buy 1 kg of rice. Dorjey vividly remembers the extremely high government tax and describes those times as very difficult for the people of Ladakh. He would carry up to 35 kg of nas all the way to Lamayuru to pay his dues. A government official collected the barley at a government kutti, and often these interactions were bitter, as local officials frequently rejected the quality of the barley on trivial pretexts. Dorjey Sonam remembers the past life in Ladakh as both challenging and simple. Sadly, all of Dorjey’s companions who once traveled with him to the Sakti-Chemrey salt markets have since passed away.

Tsering Nurbu

Tsering Nurbu, 84, of the Tangkarpa family in Skurbuchan, endured many hardships during his early years. As a young man he took up any work he could find. He remembers that he would receive three Khal (one Khal is approximately 50-kilogram) of nas, for a whole year's work at a family’s household. He once accompanied traders from Skurbuchan on a journey to the Sakti salt market, where he helped care for their donkeys. On the return trip from Sakti, the traders stopped near Skampari, close to Leh, for rest and recreation. While the traders enjoyed well-deserved sessions of chang (local wine), Tsering was left in charge of the salt-laden donkeys. To make matters worse, the intoxicated traders began quarrelling with him, falsely accusing him of having swapped their donkeys.

In his mid 20s, after working as a helper for several years, Tsering received advice from his father to leave his job and start a business to improve his circumstances. With Rs. 60 that Tsering had saved and an additional Rs. 30 contributed by his father, they decided to travel to Srinagar to purchase goods for trade. One of their main concerns during the journey was their inability to count numbers in Hindi and Urdu, which they feared would create difficulties in transactions. In those days, the journey to Srinagar was made entirely on foot. Without donkeys to assist them, the father and son opted to carry the return load on their backs. To prepare for the demanding task, Tsering’s father decided to train the young and inexperienced Tsering in the use of a Kis-Kis—a traditional load-carrying wooden frame commonly used by long-distance travelers in Ladakh. 

The Kis-Kis, worn on the back, was specifically designed to transport heavy loads over long distances. It was used alongside a long stick, which served as both a walking aid and a load-supporting tool. When the carrier grew tired, the stick was skillfully positioned under the load, allowing the person to rest while standing upright, with the stick bearing the weight. After a few days of training, they started their journey to Kashmir. On the way, there was always the fear of being waylaid by robbers known as Chakpas. To stay safe, Tsering and his father would take precautions by finishing all cooking activities, especially the mandatory Ladakhi chai, before sunset. Immediately after, they would find a good place to hide—either above or below the road, but never on the roadside. There, they would sleep in silence until sunrise, when they would resume their journey.

During their first visit to Srinagar, Tsering and his father came across a shop offering teacups at an incredible discount: Rs. 1 for a set of 70 cups. Seizing the opportunity, Tsering purchased two sets for Rs. 2. Along with the teacups, they also bought daily-use items such as utensils, chai, matchboxes, and dye colors. The arduous journey to and from Srinagar on foot took 27 days. On the 28th day, Tsering went around Skurbuchan bartering his stock of items from Kashmir. He exchanged each teacup for one Aaloo pari (an empty tin can of potatoes) filled with barley, earning a handsome profit.

With the few cups remaining, he traveled to Khalste and sold them all. For the first time in his life, Tsering felt happy and confident, realizing the potential of his entrepreneurial skills. His success earned him increased attention and respect from the community. Tsering’s father, seeing the rewards of this venture, remarked that had Tsering continued as a helper—a Kharpon or Rarzee—their circumstances would never have improved. He encouraged Tsering to keep visiting Kashmir. Over the years, Tsering undertook seven more trips to Kashmir, steadily growing his fortunes with each journey.

Tsering continued his business ventures and once carried two sacks of rice, each weighing 23 kilograms, on his back across the Zojila Pass in his Kis-Kis. He hoped the rice would help his mother overcome a long-standing challenge she had faced throughout her life. At the time, Tsering’s mother sourced the family’s wool by cleaning raw wool that women from the village would leave at their home. For each batch of wool she cleaned, she kept half and returned the other half to the owner. Although this work was physically exhausting, it was essential for meeting the family's need for wool. That year, Tsering made a trip to the Sakti-Chemrey salt market, bringing with him the two sacks of rice he had bought in Kashmir. According to Tsering, this was few years before the 1962 war. At the market, the Tibetans also sold wool alongside salt, and Tsering managed to exchange nearly equal amounts of wool for the rice. This successful trade marked a significant turning point: Tsering’s mother was able to stop working for others and began processing her own wool.

Once, while in Kashmir, Tsering and a few other Ladakhis were fortunate to meet Ven. 19th Bakula Rinpoche, who generously gifted each of them 26 kilos of rice, a piece of cloth for a goncha (traditional Ladakhi dress), a patloon (pair of pants), a kameez (shirt), and a tipi (a type of hat). To this day, Tsering cherishes the event and believes that it was because of Bakula Rinpoche’s blessings that he was able to prosper in business.

Tsering Dolma

The concept of Phaspun is an important part of the social structure among Buddhists in Ladakh. A loose definition of Phaspun could be a group of people connected through a shared protective deity called "phas-lha." In Skurbuchan, there is a group of families that identify with a Phaspun known as the Gyashingpas, with their protective deity referred to as Tashi Nyenbo 

According to Tsering Dolma, a member of the Gyashingpa Phaspun, centuries ago, a princess named Onjor from across the Karakoram range was married to a king in the region. Tsering Dolma’s ancestors came as Nyopas (assistants) to the princess, and since then, they have settled in Skurbuchan. Within the Gyashingpas, there is another unique group of 5 to 6 families known as the Jingba Ringmos (Long Neck), who have a traditional role during social ceremonies, such as weddings, when they sit in a separate row next to the row of the Kagas, symbolically acting as protectors of the event. This old tradition is still practiced in Skurbuchan. In addition to the Gyashingpas, there was another Phaspun known as the Rablonpas, which in the beginning included many monks. While the Gyashingpas acted as guardians of the bride princess on her way to Ladakh, the Rablonpas accompanied the queen, offering prayers and taking care of religious rituals.

The Gyashingpas observe a unique and peculiar cultural practice. According to their tradition, if the spoon used to prepare the native dish Paba breaks during cooking, the entire dish must be discarded. Although this custom may appear insignificant, it holds profound cultural importance within the Gyashingpa Phaspun. Initially, there were only 18 families from the Gyashingpa Phaspun and 11 families from the Rablonpa Phaspun in Skurbuchan. Over time, their numbers have grown significantly. However, the Gyashingpas are not limited to Skurbuchan, as the author has also observed a few Gyashingpa families in the villages of Skyu and Stok.

Thinley Nurbu  in front  of Gyalpo Phong, Skurbuchan

Skurbuchan is home to some of the most important historical Chortens, Manis, and stone inscriptions in all of Ladakh. Near Tsering Dolma’s ancestral house stands a group of Chortens, which she believes contains the pearl necklace of Queen Onjor. Just before reaching the house, on the right side of the pathway, lies a group of Mani walls that feature two significant historical stone inscriptions. The first inscription, now broken into two pieces, mentions King Deleks Namgyal and Skurbuchan village. The second stone, which remains intact, references King Deldan Namgyal.

One of the most significant sites in Skurbuchan is associated with King Sengge Namgyal (Sen-ge-rnam-rgyal), the powerful 17th-century ruler of the Namgyal dynasty in Ladakh, who reigned from around 1616 until his death in approximately 1642. Known as the "Lion King," Sengge Namgyal was a devout Buddhist celebrated for his extensive contributions to the construction of monasteries, palaces, and shrines throughout Ladakh. While his reign and achievements are well-documented, including his death at Hanle, the circumstances of his birth remain steeped in legend. 

Local lore from Skurbuchan recounts that Sengge Namgyal's mother, Gyalmo Gyal Khatun, went into labor while traveling back to Timosgang and paused to rest in Skurbuchan. It is said that Sengge Namgyal was born beneath a boulder at a location now called Gyalpo Phong. Today, this site holds great spiritual significance within Skurbuchan’s sacred geography.

Stone inscription mentioning Gyalpo Sengge Namgyal

A short distance to the left of Gyalpo Phong from the main road, less than a hundred meters away, lies an extensive Mani wall. This wall is adorned with a rare stone inscription that references significant historical figures and landmarks, including Gyalpo Sengge Namgyal, Gyalmo Skalzang Dolma, Minister Aku Garmo, Deldan Namgyal, Indra Bodhi, Nurzin Gyalmo, the Indus River, and the Chosgyal Photang—the Palace of the Dharma King in Tingmosgang village. While these inscriptions from Skurbuchan have been documented in the past, they appear to have been largely forgotten and are now absent from contemporary discussions on Ladakhi history.


-The author extends sincere gratitude to the Honorable Councillor of Skurbuchan, Lundup Dorjey le, for his invaluable support in facilitating this visit.

-Tashi Namgyal le, Lecturer and prominent scholar from Ladakh, and the son of the late legendary historian Sonam Phunstog Achinathangpa, introduced the author to the Gyashingpa families and the historical stone inscriptions of Skurbuchan.
-Thinley Nurbu le, former Sarpanch of Achinathang Village, assisted the author in facilitating local contacts and travel.

Sunday, September 29, 2024

Sacred Geography: Birthplace of Singge Namgyal



Sengge Namgyal (Sen-ge-rnam-rgyal) was a notable 17th-century king of the Namgyal dynasty in Ladakh, India, reigning from around 1616 until his death in approximately 1642. Known as the "Lion King," he was a devout Buddhist celebrated for his substantial contributions to the construction of monasteries, palaces, and shrines across Ladakh. 

While Sengge Namgyal’s reign and achievements are well-documented, including his death at Hanle, the details of his birth are shrouded in legend. Local lore from Skurbuchan tells that his mother, Queen Gyal Khatun, went into labor while returning to Timosgang and paused to rest in Skurbuchan. It is believed that he was born beneath a boulder at a place now known as 'Gyalpo Phong.' Today, this site holds considerable spiritual significance within Skurbuchan’s sacred geography.


Dorjey Sonam, 85, of the Kunga Stampelpa family in Skurbuchan, made numerous trips to the salt markets of Chemrey and Sakti villages during his youth. In those days, he carried nas (barley) and chuli (dried apricot) from Sham to trade for salt brought by Tibetan traders, whom he recalls as coming from the Gertse region of Tibet. The journey was long and arduous, taking seven days on donkeys to reach Sakti from Skurbuchan—five days to Leh and an additional two days from Leh to Sakti. Dorjey remembers seeing thousands of raluk (goats and sheep) grazing across the fields of Sakti and Chemrey.

The exchange rate at the market fluctuated, with traders receiving two to three times the amount of barley in exchange for a given quantity of salt. The market took place twice a year: once during the Spid Tsongs in spring and again in autumn, during the Ston Tsongs. Although salt was commonly measured using a container called a batti (equivalent to two kilograms), Dorjey and other traders from Skurbuchan brought their own nyaga (measuring tools) along with weights such as one pao, two pao, one kilogram, and eight pao. They spent two days at the market, purchasing salt from the Tibetans. Sadly, all of Dorjey’s companions who once traveled to the salt markets with him have since passed away. While Dorjey only bought salt for personal use, some elders from his village returned to Skurbuchan and later undertook long journeys to Baltistan. There, they traded salt for phatings (a type of local cloth) and butter. The Baltis, in turn, visited Skurbuchan and set up camp at a site called Miyeskor in the village. They brought stone utensils known as doltoks, which they sold in Skurbuchan and neighboring villages. These doltoks were transported on wooden frames called Kis-Kis.

Besides the Sakti-Chemrey salt market, Dorjey Sonam also traveled on foot as far as Lamayuru and Sonamarg. While his visits to Sonamarg were to buy his annual supply of goods, he visited Lamayuru to pay the heavy government tax in the form of barley. In Sonamarg, he would buy das (a type of grain), toe (another grain), and peas. He recalls that, in those days, Rs 1 could buy 12 kg of peas, 7 kg of wheat, and Rs 2 would buy 1 kg of rice. Dorjey vividly remembers the extremely high government tax and describes those times as very difficult for the people of Ladakh. He would carry up to 35 kg of barley all the way to Lamayuru to pay his dues. A government official collected the barley at a government kutti (office), and often these interactions were bitter, as local Ladakhi officials frequently rejected the quality of the barley on trivial pretexts 





Tsering Nurbu, 84, of the Tangkarpa family in Skurbuchan, faced many hardships during his early years when he had to seek work with different traders. He would often accompany traders from Skurbuchan on their trips to the Sakti salt market, where he helped care for their donkeys. On the return journey from Sakti, the traders would sometimes stop for rest and recreation near Skampari, close to Leh. While the traders enjoyed their well-deserved sessions of chang (local wine), Tsering was left responsible for looking after the salt-laden donkeys. Often, when the traders had drunk too much, they would fight among themselves, falsely claiming that their donkeys had been swapped with others, making life even more difficult for Tsering.

After working as a helper for a few years, Tsering’s father suggested that if he wanted to improve his circumstances, he should leave his job and start a business. With Rs 60 that Tsering had saved, and an additional Rs 30 his father had, they set out for Srinagar to buy goods for trade. In those days, the entire journey to Srinagar was done on foot. Father and son decided to travel together, carrying the goods on their backs. To manage the heavy load, Tsering’s father decided to train young and inexperienced Tsering in the use of a Kis-Kis, a load-carrying frame that was common among long-distance travelers in Ladakh. The wooden frame, worn on the back, was designed to carry goods over long distances. It was used in conjunction with a long stick, which the loader carried as a walking stick. However, when the loader grew tired, the stick was skillfully placed under the load, allowing the person to rest while standing as the stick supported the weight. 

After a few days of training, they started their maiden trip to Kashmir. On the way, there was always the fear of being waylaid by robbers known as Chakpas. To stay safe, Tsering and his father would take precautions by finishing all cooking activities, especially the mandatory Ladakhi chai, before sunset. Immediately after, they would find a good place to hide—either above or below the road, but never on the roadside. There, they would sleep in silence until sunrise, when they would resume their journey.

In Srinagar, Tsering and his father discovered a place where they could buy teacups at a great discount. The offer was Rs 1 for a set of 70 cups. Tsering’s father bought two sets for Rs 2. Besides the teacups, they also bought daily-use items such as utensils, chai, matchboxes, and dye colors. The entire journey to and from Srinagar took them 27 days. On the 28th day, Tsering went around the village selling his stock of items from Kashmir. He sold one cup for one Aaloo pari (an empty tin can of potatoes) and made a handsome profit. With the remaining cups, he went to Khalste and sold all of them. The business bug had bitten Tsering, and according to him, for the first time in his life, he felt happy and confident. Soon, people started paying more attention to him than before. Tsering’s father too suggested that had Tsering continued working as helper as a Khapron or Rarzee , things would never have improved. Therefore, he encouraged him to continue visiting Kashmir. Over the coming years, Tsering made seven more trips to Kashmir, and his fortunes continued to grow.

Once, while in Kashmir, Tsering and a few other Ladakhis were fortunate to meet Ven 19th Bakula Rinpoche, who generously gifted them each 26 kilos of rice, a piece of cloth for a goncha (traditional Ladakhi dress), a patloon (pair of pants), a kameez (shirt), and a tipi (a type of hat). 

Tsering continued his business ventures and once carried two sacks of rice, each weighing 23 kilograms, on his back across the Zojila pass in his Kis-Kis. He hoped to use the rice to help his mother overcome a long-standing problem she had faced throughout her life. At that time, Tsering’s mother contributed to the family income by cleaning wool, which women from the village would leave at her home. For each batch of wool she cleaned, she kept half and returned the other half to the owner. Although this work was physically exhausting and not very profitable, it helped sustain the family. That year, Tsering made a trip to the Sakti-Chemrey salt market, bringing with him the two sacks of rice he had bought from Kashmir. At the market, the Tibetans also sold wool alongside salt, and Tsering managed to exchange nearly equal amounts of wool for the rice. This successful trade brought a significant change: Tsering’s mother was able to stop working for others and began processing her own wool, selling it to ensure a steady source of income for the family.