Benjamin Fash

15 September, 2006

As a mere visitor to Ladakh, a dry region of Indian Himalayas rooted in centuries of cultural tradition, I am under qualified to write this account.  Yet, Ladakhis currently face complex circumstances, therefore any concentration may be helpful to raise awareness and generate creative ideas.  In the summer of 2005, I bore witness and offered my hands to the construction of a Tibetan Buddhist nunnery in Nyerma, a tiny division of Thiksey village.  The construction of Nyerma nunnery, I believed, was symbolic of greater trends of improvement for Ladakhi nuns.  Living and working with two nuns, six Nepalis, and three fellow volunteers at Nyerma, I experienced the nuns’ genuine practice and village people’s devotion to their cause.  One year later, I set out to understand how the project had progressed, and to further understand both short and long-term goals of nuns and lay practitioners in the greater region of Ladakh, photographing signs of transition along the way.

With this motivation, I learned about the complexities hidden beneath the layer of hospitality and peace shown to the summer tourists.  At first astounded by the work achieved on the kitchen, dining hall, and bedrooms – fit for 20 inhabitants – I was disheartened to see the project shut down for the second half of my trip due to power-dynamics amongst the overseers of the project.[i]  In the unexpected turn of events, the nuns dispersed to their family homes in nearby villages, and I restructured my research.  I chose to study the different conditions at eight other nunneries scattered around Ladakh and Zanskar.[ii]  I also took advantage of the most fortunate opportunity to live and learn daily with Geshe Tsultrim Tharchen, teacher at the Ladakh Nuns Association (LNA) and Chokhang temple, and vice president of the new Shri Nalanda Dharma Center in Leh, the capital of Ladakh.[iii]

To understand the greatest problems that nuns in Ladakh face, one must examine the cultural structure that supports (meekly, at times) women’s spiritual practice in the region.  Ladakh, geographically comprising nearly half of the state of Jammu & Kashmir, supports a population nearing 200,000, evenly divided between Buddhists and Muslims.  Once sheltered from the developing world beyond the Himalayas, Ladakh was opened to tourists in 1974.  Ladakhis have since adopted segments of Western and Indian cultures, presently peaking with a large tourist market and a heavy military presence.[iv]  These changes have brought terrible threats and great opportunities to the advancement of culture and society in Ladakh.  In turn, the way that Ladakhis work together to embrace and reject the incoming world is determining the situation of nuns in Ladakh.

After many conversations with Geshe Tharchen, and enough experience to reinforce his ideas, it is clear that a poor education system is at the root of the problems in Ladakh, for nuns and for all.  The lack of educational opportunity contributes to the deterioration of Ladakhi cultural practices, posing a threat to the future stability of monastic institutions.  While Ladakhis above 35 tend toward tradition – in dress and lifestyle – the younger generations have embraced new possibilities.  Even in remote villages, one is unlikely to see young folk irrigating the fields or gardening.  Instead, they work in the booming tourist market, helping foreigners find their way to monasteries[v] and mountain peaks, world cuisines and massage parlors.  Many vacationing college students put money from tourism toward their education and adventures in other Indian cities, namely Srinagar, Jammu, and Delhi.   Most who are interested in cultural conservation fear that allowing the majority of the intellectually inclined young generation to learn among other cultures will lead to future indifference among the leaders of the region.[vi]

The ability for Ladakhis to pursue education outside of the region has both positive and negative consequences.  While new experience may decrease some young people’s interest in adhering to cultural practices at home, the experience promotes religious tolerance, a vital necessity in Ladakh today.  The past several years have seen an escalating conflict between the Buddhists and Muslims.  Instances include street violence – reportedly even by monks – Muslims raping Buddhists,[vii] Buddhists burning Muslim houses, the government discriminating Buddhists in policy, and the tourists exclusively sponsoring Buddhist endeavors.  CB Tundup, a graduate from a University in Jammu, explained, “I had all different kinds of friends [in Jammu] – Sikh, Hindu, Muslim, Buddhist - we didn’t talk about religion though, just enjoyed each other’s company.”[viii]  Originally from Nyerma village, Tundup has recently opened a travel agency in Leh.  One significant downside to the education in other Indian cities is that Ladakhis cannot learn literacy in their own language.  However, just as the roads out of Ladakh lead to lay Universities, they lead also to well-endowed monastic institutions in Dharamsala, Varanasi, and Karnataka, where many Ladakhi monks and nuns currently study Tibetan Buddhism.[ix]  The application and the spread of wisdom from these institutions is one of the greatest hopes for the advancement of Buddhist values for both lay and ordained folk in Ladakh.

In the Tibetan Buddhist tradition, teachers are of unsurpassable importance.  The Buddha is unequivocally the greatest teacher, but there is reverence for all who have passed down his teachings so that it could arrive to the student.  Since many Ladakhi monks have returned from South India with geshe degrees, the monastic community is now endowed with great potential.  Nonetheless, only three of the eight nunneries I visited had full-time teachers.  Particularly in the Zanskar region, there is a terrible disregard for the spiritual well being of nuns.  At Pishu, Dorjezong, and Tung-ri nunneries, there are women who have donned robes from under age 20 to over age 70 without ever having a committed dharma teacher.  When I asked what they most want to change at their nunneries now, some responded, “I don’t care.  I just want to die.”[x]  However, when I asked what they most wanted for the young nuns, they all responded that dharma teachers are needed more than any provision.

Rather than providing an update to the 2001 survey of the nunneries in Zanskar, I wish to recall some moving moments of my research there.  Firstly, almost all nunneries lay claim to the richest history possible in Ladakh: they were founded by the great Rinchen Zangpo, who translated Buddhist sutra into Tibetan in the 10^th century.  Sadly, the nuns at Pishu could not say as much, for they had no record of the history of their gompa.  These Pishu nuns live primarily from their families and gather to pray together only once or twice per month.  They have no teacher and only a meager garden, as there is little water accessible in the area at all.  At Dorjezong and Tung-ri, though the nuns have no teacher, they work hard to be self-sustainable.  In Dorjezong, hard labor in the fields is necessary to their survival, for the village people have little interest in supporting the nunnery.  The lack of support from the villagers and the lack of hope for a teacher prompted four nuns to disrobe and marry in the last year.  At Tung-ri, nuns either study alone or, in the case of the younger nuns, disrobe and attend the government school in the village.  The temporary removal of the robe is likely a formality imposed by the government school, requiring its own uniform, rather than a secret kept from a tiny village.  This year, all nuns, actually most Zanskaris, are combating a terrible infestation of grasshoppers, which has destroyed many of their crops.[xi]

Despite the daunting difficulties, there are signs of hope and success toward healthier spiritual practices in some of the Zanskari nunneries.  At Karsha nunnery, Lobsang Dorje spends his three-month summer vacation teaching the nuns Tibetan, Hindi, English, and Buddhist philosophy.  A 21-year-old Zanskari male student of Central Institute of Buddhist Studies (CIBS) in Choglamsar, Ladakh, Lobsang is well aware of the inequalities between monks and nuns, given that his niece is a nun at Karsha.  He says he can only teach them introductory ideas about Buddhism that he has learned in classes at school.  The goal is to make the nunnery’s school a branch of CIBS, so the nuns can have a paid dharma teacher.[xii]  In Zangla, the wish for a teacher, as well as other comforts, is already reality, thanks to an annual $20,000 donation from an American sponsor.[xiii]

The most inspiring nunnery I visited was in the rather remote village of Tia.  Twenty minutes winding off the main road, the Tia nunnery defies tradition residing higher on the hill than the local monastery.  Some twenty-two nuns, aged 15-22, live there and adhere to a daily schedule of morning prayer, breakfast, English class, Hindi class, Buddhist Philosophy class, lunch (cooked by two different nuns everyday), Tibetan class, and basic mathematics.  After mathematics, the nuns have a half hour to do leisurely activities, including playing badminton, before proceeding to “prayer class” – an hour-long Kagyu puja.  Most admirably, a nun, not a monk, teaches the classes.  Ghen-le, the teacher, is from Himachal Pradesh, having studied Buddhism in Dharamsala.  She receives a monthly payment, equal to the average schoolteacher, from the Indian government, because the nunnery school is an official branch of CIBS.  The nuns get their food from one of their two gardens or from the village people, especially those related to the nuns.  The Tia nuns have three months of vacation in winter to visit their families (half of the nuns come from other parts of Ladakh), and retreat as they please.[xiv]  Though not without some small faults, the Tia nunnery is in many ways a model for other struggling nunneries.

Dr. Tsering Palmo, head of the Ladakh Nuns Association, believes in making the nunneries as self-sufficient as possible.  Currently, there are about eight nuns studying Tibetan medicine with both Dr. Palmo and a second teacher from CIBS.  The nuns will finish this education after another two years (total of six), at which point the LNA hopes to establish a clinic and pharmacy especially for nuns, but also serving monks and lay people.  Currently, the LNA functions both as the central hub for nuns in Ladakh as well as a nunnery for some eight nuns (aside from the medical students).  These nuns receive classes on Tibetan grammar and Buddhist philosophy from Geshe Tharchen six days a week.  Learning English is a priority at the LNA, given that the nuns would like to maximize exchange with foreign visitors.[xv]  At the LNA, I was witness to a Tara puja, lasting four days and over 100,000 prayers, during which nuns from a several nunneries joined with a few laypeople to benefit all sentient beings.

My mind full of memories and concerns, I wish to convey as much information as possible.  Please note that this essay is the introduction to my exploration of notes and photographs from ten weeks in Ladakh.  Finally, it is appropriate to conclude with some thoughts from Geshe Tharchen.  It is true that the culture is changing in Ladakh.  All nuns report that very few young people come to them for prayers or guidance, and most men only come in the winter, when there are no tourists to keep them busy.  However, people are somehow waking up.  In fact, Buddhism may have been in even greater danger of deteriorating had the doors not opened for monks to study at Tibetan institutions in India.  In the ordained community, there is a slow turnover from monks who wear their robes as signs of power and those who wear them as signs of wisdom.  Now, education is slowly improving.  On the whole, people are receiving better elementary education, preparing their mind for whatever they might encounter.  The few young people that do attend Geshe Tharchen’s teachings every Sunday and holiday (including full and new moon days), pick up on the philosophy very quickly.  Geshe Tharchen’s goal is to make the Shri Nalanda Dharma Center a hub of Buddhism in Ladakh, emphasizing compassion, discipline, and philosophy over worship and prayer. “It’s 21^st Century Buddhism!” he declares.[xvi]