Musings of a Wandering Mind

Ladakh – People – A Confident Lot

I have mentioned a few times earlier in this series about the cheerful nature of Ladakhi people. Another common feature of Ladakhis is their confidence and pride. They think no less of themselves than anyone else, which is evident in their speech and behaviour. Writing in her book ‘Ancient Futures‘ on the people of Ladakh, Helena Norberg-Hodge indicates that Ladakhis display no servility in their communications with someone of a higher social status. Irrespective of the work they do and their place in the society, you do not see them complaining or thinking low about themselves or their work. They rarely feel inferior about anything.

Most people I interacted with confirmed to this norm. Our guesthouse owner Wangyal, driver Tashi, another lady whose guesthouse we stayed in were all confident people. An exception however, was the cab driver who took us to Tso Moriri.

As much as we tried to take public transport or shared vehicles to travel within Ladakh, there were a few exceptions. We were in a hurry to reach Tso Moriri to be there on time for a monastic festival starting in three days. The next bus to Tso Moriri was leaving only a week later. There were no shared jeeps available for next morning. Yes, we still had three days for the fest, but unless we got there soon, there was no hope of finding accommodation in the village during the festival rush. Korzok had limited accommodation and there were no phones in the village to call and book ahead. So the best way to ensure that we don’t spend the night on the pavement was to get there before anyone else did. We decided to hire a cab.

Our driver Rigchen was a courteous man with a soft voice. He spoke very little when we started, but warmed up to each other as the day progressed. He talked slowly about his roots, his family and children. To my surprise, there was an apparent lack of confidence in his voice, very unlike other people I interacted with.

“I haven’t managed to study much,” he mentioned as he spoke about his family, “but at least my children should.”

His two kids were studying in Lamdon School, one of the best known public schools in Leh. He thought the school fees were high and difficult to afford, but like every parent, wanted his children to have the best education. He owned a farm in his village, but came to Leh and took up a driver’s job to ensure that his kids could study at Lamdon.

“Karna padta hai na?” he said about his driver’s job, indicating that it is an unavoidable obligation.

As far as I can remember, he was the only person I met who spoke in this manner during my two-month stay in Ladakh.