Crossing onto Khotang from Solukhumbu: A Throw Back in Time
There are some good and some bad in being left out of the development intersection.
You know how it is, the places that never fall into any intersection. The places that escape attention, and lie there all by themselves trapped in time, unheard of for better or worse.
There are such places, such pockets in Khotang and Solukhumbu of Eastern Nepal. Those areas which are far from headquarters of both districts or are very much inland from the ever expanding road networks. Those which are neither the High Mountains nor have prominence to any trade route from far and wide. "Hinterland", in sociological jargon.
In March I trekked and spent a few nights in this very area during extreme weather. Snow, fog and slippery path through steep slopes made my traverse really dangerous. But I am not complaining. What I went through for a few days, the locales here live that life every day, every month, all their life.
There are small villages interspersed like tiny dots throughout this vastly rugged territory. Getting from one village to another takes anywhere from up to two hours to a whole day. In between, always, there are dense woods. There is bound to be multiple trails as people and livestock frequent between house and forest so often. These two facts make travelling solo for new people impossible unless you enjoy getting lost in wild untamed forests with imminent danger of wildlife.
People from this part still very much follow a shifting agro-pastoral livelihood. Each household has a certain area of forest and pasture where they have yak and cattle sheds. One or sometimes all of the family members move to these sheds for the most part of rainy season (March-July in Nepal) when the pasture is full of lush green grasses. This is the perfect time when mothers and young ones of Yak and other cattle can be easily tended as there are plenty of fodder to have in the pasture and within the forest. Their livelihood is something I had only read about. It was like they were trapped in time, doing what we read as being almost forgotten old custom.I had found similar livelihood in the hills of Sandakpur in Ilam, but there only a few people chose this way of living. Here there was simply no choice. Whole village still followed this tradition.
As I crossed from Solukhumbu onto Khotang, I came across many such sheds where people had already begun to start living, or were transferring their essentials and herd.
The last hill seen in this photo is called Silichu Peak. There is a lake adjoining the peak called Salpa Pokhari. It is one of the most sacred and mystical places of Eastern hill. At least to me it is "mystical" in every sense of the world. Every year Shamans from the Kirat Rai community go here to worship the various deities believed to be residing here. It is believed that to be a truly powerful Shaman (Dhami), you need to visit and interact with the deities within the pond and the peak. Therefore, each year many hundred shamans with their unique bunch of followers and devotees make way to Silichu peak. But this event gets very less attention nationwide.
These barberries (called chutro/mandre in Nepali) is a popular wild berry in high altitude. This is perhaps one of the most common edible berries in the hills. It's fruit and juice, some say, cures altitude sickness. The leaves of these plants are so similar to mistletoe that I frequently see in Christmas movies.
The beautiful Daphne plant whose bark is used to make "Nepali" paper. We called it kagaje meaning paper. Although I seldom had seen this plant flower so profusely. It is beautiful. The forest takes on a different shade of dreamy when these fragrant pink fresh faced flowers are blooming all over. A whiff of chill fresh forest air mixed with the heady fragrance of these flowers, and it does not take a lot for loiterers like me to be transported to middle Earth heaven.
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We rested on the shed seen further where we had rest, warmth, chit chat and snacks. Makeshift huts or sheds like this are strewn all over the hilly pasture. The owners of first shed we came upon had not started living there yet, so we made way onto this one. Which fortunately had people already living.
Over the months that people are living in the makeshift shed, they will be producing dairy items such as this one called "shergham" which is similar to fresh cheese.
An important part of staying in the shed is to make various dairy items like ghee, butter and cheese. The lady is manually centrifuging milk in those bamboo containers. It takes long tiring hours to be doing that. She kept working all the time that our team was here inside her hut.
As cute as these young ones looked, there was one lying dead just a few feet away from them which I have not captured in frame. It was too painful a sight. The dead calf reminded me of how cruel and difficult life here actually was, for human and animal alike.
So there is both good and bad in being out of reach of the modern development.
While the natural world is pristine, beautiful and gives the occasional passerby familiar with Hobbit a chance to encounter, in real life, elements of their imagination;
On the other hand, the human life is truly a survival game. It's a battle with elements. Fascinating as it sounds, when I see a 7 year old kid who does not go to school but stays in the makeshift hut with his parents, dirt and grime all over his face, doing God knows what, I do not know what to think. It is not a choice the people of this area made, to live this semi-pastoral life, to not send their kids to school. They have very limited choice.
What to think? Of the people whose life is a continuous battle for day-to-day survival under the "Misty Mountain"?
You know how it is, the places that never fall into any intersection. The places that escape attention, and lie there all by themselves trapped in time, unheard of for better or worse.
There are such places, such pockets in Khotang and Solukhumbu of Eastern Nepal. Those areas which are far from headquarters of both districts or are very much inland from the ever expanding road networks. Those which are neither the High Mountains nor have prominence to any trade route from far and wide. "Hinterland", in sociological jargon.
In March I trekked and spent a few nights in this very area during extreme weather. Snow, fog and slippery path through steep slopes made my traverse really dangerous. But I am not complaining. What I went through for a few days, the locales here live that life every day, every month, all their life.
There are small villages interspersed like tiny dots throughout this vastly rugged territory. Getting from one village to another takes anywhere from up to two hours to a whole day. In between, always, there are dense woods. There is bound to be multiple trails as people and livestock frequent between house and forest so often. These two facts make travelling solo for new people impossible unless you enjoy getting lost in wild untamed forests with imminent danger of wildlife.
People from this part still very much follow a shifting agro-pastoral livelihood. Each household has a certain area of forest and pasture where they have yak and cattle sheds. One or sometimes all of the family members move to these sheds for the most part of rainy season (March-July in Nepal) when the pasture is full of lush green grasses. This is the perfect time when mothers and young ones of Yak and other cattle can be easily tended as there are plenty of fodder to have in the pasture and within the forest. Their livelihood is something I had only read about. It was like they were trapped in time, doing what we read as being almost forgotten old custom.I had found similar livelihood in the hills of Sandakpur in Ilam, but there only a few people chose this way of living. Here there was simply no choice. Whole village still followed this tradition.
As I crossed from Solukhumbu onto Khotang, I came across many such sheds where people had already begun to start living, or were transferring their essentials and herd.
 |
| "Misty Mountain" |
These barberries (called chutro/mandre in Nepali) is a popular wild berry in high altitude. This is perhaps one of the most common edible berries in the hills. It's fruit and juice, some say, cures altitude sickness. The leaves of these plants are so similar to mistletoe that I frequently see in Christmas movies.
 |
| Kagaje Phul |
The beautiful Daphne plant whose bark is used to make "Nepali" paper. We called it kagaje meaning paper. Although I seldom had seen this plant flower so profusely. It is beautiful. The forest takes on a different shade of dreamy when these fragrant pink fresh faced flowers are blooming all over. A whiff of chill fresh forest air mixed with the heady fragrance of these flowers, and it does not take a lot for loiterers like me to be transported to middle Earth heaven.
We rested on the shed seen further where we had rest, warmth, chit chat and snacks. Makeshift huts or sheds like this are strewn all over the hilly pasture. The owners of first shed we came upon had not started living there yet, so we made way onto this one. Which fortunately had people already living.
 |
| Inside, a warm fire welcomed us and bubbling cauldron of tea welcomed us. |
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| Foaming cups of Yak Milk tea |
 |
| Shergam-fresh cheese. No, so much better than fresh cheese. |
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| The making of butter, ghee, and chhupri (hardened cheese) |
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| She will be working nonstop for all those months in this cramped little shed. |
An important part of staying in the shed is to make various dairy items like ghee, butter and cheese. The lady is manually centrifuging milk in those bamboo containers. It takes long tiring hours to be doing that. She kept working all the time that our team was here inside her hut.
 |
| young ones. |
 |
| Coniferous Evergreen Forest |
While the natural world is pristine, beautiful and gives the occasional passerby familiar with Hobbit a chance to encounter, in real life, elements of their imagination;
On the other hand, the human life is truly a survival game. It's a battle with elements. Fascinating as it sounds, when I see a 7 year old kid who does not go to school but stays in the makeshift hut with his parents, dirt and grime all over his face, doing God knows what, I do not know what to think. It is not a choice the people of this area made, to live this semi-pastoral life, to not send their kids to school. They have very limited choice.
What to think? Of the people whose life is a continuous battle for day-to-day survival under the "Misty Mountain"?
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