Travel + Leisure - India & South Asia
Farming Feats
On the other side of Kaza, across the river, is a hamlet called Kawang. It has no more than five houses (belonging to five brothers, I’m told), a nunnery, and a primary school with a staff of three—and just one student! I am assigned to the eldest brother’s house, surrounded by lush green farms and overlooking a riverbed. Here, Ecosphere has helped in setting up two greenhouses and a homestay. Back in 2004, the organisation ventured into the eco-tourism sector with the launch of five family-run homestays in the villages of Langza, Komic, Lalung, Dhankar, and Demul.
At the village house I’m accompanied by another volunteer who has signed up for the month-long Farming Feats programme. The man of the house, whom we refer to as ‘acho’, as big brothers are called in Spiti, gives us a tour of the farm. The vast, unsheltered crops of barley dancing amid mighty mountains make my heart flutter. The two greenhouses make a safe haven for all sorts of herbs and vegetables to grow. They may look small and insignificant but greenhouses such as these prove to be the keys to self-sustenance in the harsh winter months, when Spiti
Valley is covered in snow and practically disconnected from the rest of the world. Acho even shows us a sample of the composting toilets that the locals use when it’s so cold that water freezes in the pipelines.
Thanks to rapid climate change, the adversities in the region are not limited to winter. Shortage of snowfall, for instance, often leaves the natural springs dry during summer, posing problems for irrigation. Ecosphere has been trying to combat this issue in more ways than one: while artificial glaciers help fill the springs in some villages, some others practise contour trenching for agriculture.
Besides agricultural practices, we get to learn—and live—the everyday life of a traditional Spiti household. Even in July, the air is quite cold in the morning. But acho and his family of nine are up and about, doing their chores. Between nine and 10am every day, we sit down for a hot breakfast of aloo bhaklep, the Tibetan version of a stuffed aloo paratha, in the traditional dining room with floor seating. At the farm, rounds of weeding, watering, and simply watching over the fields fill my afternoon hours. In the evenings, the adults like to sit in the field with cups of tea and bread while the kids play outdoors: one of them is skilled at skating, and another likes to wander the neighbourhood wearing swim goggles. By the end of the first day, I have nicknames for each of the three toddlers of the house.
In this truly remote home in Kawang, the nights are surreal too. The Milky Way appears on my window in all its glory. I struggle to sleep, confronted with its cosmic brilliance, always hidden in plain sight for city dwellers like me. I photograph it for posterity. And I thank my stars.