Winter Festivals in Ladakh

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Winter Festivals in Ladakh

Text: Kristin Blancke-www.viaggiinasia.com
photos by Stefano Morbiato


Last year I was invited to lead a group of French tourists for the winter festival in Ladakh. It was the end of February, a period of annual celebrations in monasteries of Stok and Mathro, famous for their oracles.
What a cold, I said! Must I do this?
Anyway I will wear more warm suites, so...
It was the end of February, the period of Mathro and Stok festivals. I had already made this trip few years earlier. But that time I was with my husband, I felt stronger and more secure.
Here we are by plane, flying the Himalaya snows, in a wonderful sunny day. The first 'Jule' as soon as we are landing to Leh. It's always nice to find my friends from Ladakhi.... Lobsang and Wangchuk are expected to bring me in the hotel. Wow, now there are rooms with central heating! Great improvement was made passin from the preceiding vault to kerosene stoves. As always requested from the hosts who intend to pass time there, for acclimatization to the altitude we will exit in the afternoon for a short walk to Samkar Gompa.
He is cold, but not too much. The roads are free, the cars are moving normally. From the square under the Shanti Stupa we see the first overview of the valley. Smooth Sky, with a blue that can be found only at high altitude. Mountains are glowed by snow. The chain of Stok before us, the Kardung La and the path of Nubra valley behind the Tsemola with its flags, the drugs along the way: everything in its place. The fields are covered with snow, streams are dry, bare trees, people smiling, all as always. Few tourists: we are equally forty foreigners and indian tourists. The shops are closed for tourists, we miss Kashmiri and Tibetan sellers. In short: the Ladakhi of India Ladakh of course. Even in winter there are women selling vegetables along the road, but the choice is reduced: cabbage, potatoes, a few roots. But in recent years supplies are brought here by airways. Now fruit and meat are also available in winter. Then, after a first round of recognition of the city, we return to accomodate at the hotel, with faces red for the cold. At happy hour time we enjoy the usual rum with pineapple juice prepared for the customers which will arrive tomorrow for the festival of Stok.

We start in jeeps. There is a lot of traffic, many buses are directed to Stok, overcrowded of people. The monastery is located at about one kilometer in a section above the royal palace, surrounded by white mountains. How many people............ elderly men and women with upper-turned tip hats, rosary in hand, wrinkle faces, eyes covered with cataracts, but very kind and pleasant faces. Children with plumpy cheeks, the same little nose, and red ribbons in the hair. There's also young people, boys in jeans and leather jacket, girls with the Indian salwar kameez and colorful scarves. We are crammed on to each other, pending the commencement of ritual dances. I note that the costumes of the dancers are shiny new, that gives a touch of richness to the spectacle. Describing the dances, they are similar to chams visas even in summer, in various monasteries. At the time of lunch-break, we head on the roof of a house nearby, where our staff has prepared the hot lunch, we consume it sitting in the sun, amid the spectacle of these magnificent mountains. But we haven't finished still, that already we are claimed by the trumpets noise! And we do not want to miss the arrival of oracles.
Their appearance is spectacular: two persons, dressed in white, one with a red wig on his head, the other in black, barefoot, with a huge sword in his hand. They run back and forth, entering in different rooms of the temple, re-emerging, keeping in balance along the narrow eaves of the monastery roof. Sometimes they stop, sharpening the blade of the sword and passing it on the tongue and arms, all accompanied by screams and cries, while a thrill of fear runs among those present. It is said that the oracle cuts when he is offended, by bystanders, by the monks, or musicians. Some spectators to stop this ask to oracles a question, then attach a white scarf on them as sign of respect, and oracles proclaim their answer aloud, then resume the race. When oracles come close to the people, pass the sword over their hung heads as sign of blessing. This ceremony takes more or less an hour, then the two oracles come into a room and leave the trance. The state of mind of the crowd was festive and cheerful and also satisfied from this first day of ceremonies, so all the crowd returns home .
The next day we find ourselves at the same place. There are dances, and the oracles have travelled trough the village, to bless homes and people and tomake prophecies; they make a brief appearance at the monastery, then leave to bless the royal palace of Stok. In the meantime, the show moves into a sort of natural amphitheater, a large clearing outside the monastery. It's wonderful to observe all people, willing to bunches on the hill, while in the middle of the clearing the astrologer prepares and consecrates the "tsogs". After a while the oracles return..... hours are decidedly cheerful; tsogs are cut into pieces and rich portions are thrown among the people, with other shouts and prophecies. After even a short speech bodes well, they fall in the monastery where they leave the trance. After all this ceremony we go to eat in the same house of yesterday. Then we return in the clearing. Now the scenario has changed and here comes a procession of monks, with yellow cereony hats, and all the ritual music instruments. In the middle of the clearing was prepared a pile of wood, and the torma is put above. The monks surround it in a semicircle, and light the fire to burn all the obstacles and interference. While performing the songs and prayers, the wood is switched on a big bonfire, and torma is burned. All people assist with joy to the performance of this great spectacle, a little impatient for the final act: When the music and songs end up and when the torma is burnt, kids arrive here and a rain of stones are launched by them ito the fire, so also the last demon left can not escape...
All at home, now! With still the joy in my heart, I descend a piece of road on foot, into the silence of the mountain, the wind caresses my face: which contrast with the bustle of the festival just left....
Everyone liked the show. At dinner we discussed joyfully, and it becomes an opportunity to explain some aspects of Tibetan Buddhism. We now expect three days of intermediate. We will visit some monasteries outside Leh: Alci, Lamayuru, Likir. Within two nights in guest-houses, heated by wood stoves. But the mere virtue of this majestic nature and its devote inhabitants gives us a charge so strong that exceed these small incidents.