Nana Ziesche

The motor drones, the music clangs, the guys from Zanskar chatter and the car is rocking on a bumpy ride. At the once in a while checkposts the motor is switched off and one is surrounded by silence. Only gentle sounds like the chirping of birds and the humming of insects reach the ear. While driving on one feels caught like in an infinite loop of eternal mountains. The small car swings and buzzes to the tinny continually repeated Bollywood rhythms belling out from the dashboard. Finally some houses appear. After 14 hours and 285 km one plops out of the car in the capital Padum, consisting of 80 houses at an altitude of 3.600 m. The view seems to be unlimited until the eyes come to rest on the sex and seventhousand meter high mountains. This is the end.

One could still drive for a couple of kilometers through the high valley, but after that it would only be possible to continue on foot for days. And when the snow falls in late november, not even that can be done anymore. The road then is closed, the passes impassable and the only way to go on would be on the Zanskar river once it has been frozen over. Or else wait until spring comes. In this barren landscape with its harsh living conditions a culture has established itself which moves in rhythm with the seasons and in tune with nature. A sense of community in accordance with buddhist ideals helps the Zanskari people to cope with their everyday life.