Another day at the office...

Hello Everyone,
This is Kaza, my home, from a road high above.

On the left side of the dry creek is Old Kaza, and flowing out like branches from the city are green fields-- the traditional setup of a Spitian village. To the right is New Kaza, where you will see no fields flowing from below but perhaps you will notice a new sort of field-- feilds of concrete. New Kaza is home to the many government buildings installed here, government schools, government hospitals, government administation offices... on New Kaza side you will even find, un-netted and unused, the concrete rectangle of tennis courts. And at the top of the picture witness the drama of the Spiti river and the Himalaya Mountains. This, friends, is the beautiful and complicated scene of my life.
Perhaps you'll remember I'm working at an NGO here named Spiti Ecosphere, and my job brings me to the fringes of the Spiti Valley and into close contact with the regional culture. Most recently I taught a first aide class to about 20 villagers, and despite the language barrier (everything I said in English had to be translated into Hindi, which, taught in the government schools, is not the primary language of the locals) was, I think, rather successful. Other projects have been to fix up the bikes we let, help teach some English classes, and write up some reports, but my must usual and relished job is the documentation of nature and culture in the area, or, in another word, photography.
So here are some snapshots derived from this great Spiti project for your enjoyment and education.


The Pin Valley is an offshoot of the Spiti Valley, and up this beautiful gorge lie several villages connected by a single road. Pictured here is the Kurgi Monestary which has with three temples: one 800 years old, one 400 years old, and the third completed several years ago.


Everyone loves a good rainbow picture: a lucky day in the Pin Valley.


Many wildfowers are beginning to bloom, especially at the lower elevations.


A small building signaling the proximity of Damul, and the ubiquitous prayer flags of Tibetan Buddhism. A note on prayer flags: once put up they are never taken down, and are allowed to disentegrate over time, so you see them in various states of their existance: from bright and colorful to pale and threadbare.


Young girls outside the government school at Damul. You'll have mixed feelings about the coming of government schools to the Spiti. While there can be little doubt of the importance of education anywhere, especially of literacy, government schools here do not teach in the local language or in ways particularly relevant to the area, so the local culture is gradually phased out. Imagine your conflict if in gradeschool you were taught in Chinese, and all the examples came from a Chinese context; would you feel unsure of your identity?


Despite its remoteness (the road to Damul was only built 3 years ago, and is still quite rough), Damul is a one of the largest villages I've been to. I came to Damul with Sonam to find out how the women here have been doing producing local knit-wear. The sale of local handicrafts is an initiative designed by Ecosphere to empower the women of the area giving them a way to bring in Rupees while simultaneously preserving part of their culture.


This is a basket of dung. In the traditional Spiti culture, nothing is wasted, not even manure. It is collected and used for feul. Also, I am falling in love with these baskets, the Spitian version of a backpack. Hardly looks comfortable, but the simple utilitarianness of it appeals to me.


Looking South East down the Spiti valley from a little old 15,000 ft peek where you are supposed to be able to see 14 villages. I counted 12, but I doubt my eyes are as sharp as the locals'.


The braided channels of the Spiti River in the glare of sunset.


Wildflowers aren't just blooming at the lower elevations; this little yellow flower in the pea family is blooming now at over 5000 meters.


I've decided part of my Ecosphere work should involve peak bagging, so I tagged this unnamed mountain right above Rangrik (just outside of Kaza). A lesson in hiking Himalayan mountains: they are always, ALWAYS, much bigger in reality than they appear, and despite this mountains unassuming appearance from the ground, it was a beast. The air is just a lot thinner at 16,000 feet.


It should go without saying that the view from the top was outstanding. "Outstanding" is such a banal way to describe looking accross the Himalayas, but I'm trying not to use obscenities here. Just look at those f*ing things! (sorry!)


Looking down from the top of my Unnamed Mountain, the Key Monestary looks very small. You can still see the way monestary is stuck right on steep hillside high above the village of the same name. This is a splendid place.

Thanks to everybody who has written to let me know how they are doing. As some of you know, I've decided to stay in India until November. While this decision brings me a lot of joy because now I will have time to chase down a few more Indian dreams, there is also the heavy weight of time and homesickness. I miss home! But hearing from my friends and family gives me a lot of joy and helps me stay focused here.
I wish everyone the best, and send much love.
Ethan