Dolpo, the land of the snow leopard, yarsagumba, the numinous and the sublime.

“The paths around these mountainsides are narrow, there is no room for misstep, and at this altitude, one is quickly out of breath. Gradually I have learned to walk more lightly, legs loose, almost gliding, and this helps a lot in times of vertigo. Some of the cliffside trail is less than two feet wide – I measure it – and skirts sheer precipice; nor is the rest much better, for these mountainsides of shining grass are so precipitous, so devoid of trees or even shrubs, that a stumbler might tumble and roll thousands of feet, then drop into the dark where the sun ends, for want of anything to catch hold of.”

 Peter Matthiessen’s 1970’s classic “The Snow Leopard” is a spiritual text, and an exploration of isolated wilderness in Dolpo, Nepal. He describes in luminous captivating and divine prose, the harsh terrain he navigates and the spiritual thoughts that engulf him. I reread his book prior to my recent trek in Dolpo which is so remote that Matthiessen remarked; ‘in one days walk we are a century away’. I did not see or hear a motorized vehicle for 13 days.

 For city dwellers, it’s hard to fathom life in a village like Rike. Only 9 households 24 inhabitants, all adherents of the Bon religion. Life is harsh. Subsistence farming of maize, beans, buckwheat and barley and livestock breeding - dzo (hybrid between yaks and cattle) mules, sheep and goat. People are economically poor but culturally rich and their hospitality is warm and embracing. Yet they rarely get visitors. The nearest big village Rechi is 9.5km up and down treacherous mountain paths; the administrative town Dunai a day trip away. Approximately 3 km as the crow flies, on the mountain right across a deep valley, you can see the path that most trekkers take to Lake Phoksundo. These ‘fast trekkers’ know not what they miss as they march towards a goal of proving themselves or posting a social media selfie that they were there.

 In Kathmandu (warm and crowded) I noticed hordes of Pulsar motorcycles by Bajaj Auto (which we own in our portfolio). They are the highest selling motorcycles in Nepal. Nepalgunj (a border town with India) from where you normally take a flight to Jufal to trek to Dolpo, was hot dry and desolate by comparison. At the hotel, I ran into a large group of Indians. None appeared close to trekking fit; potential Ozempic customers. From Nepalgunj you could fly to Humla from where devout Hindus travel to circumambulate Mt. Kailash located in Chinese controlled Tibetan Autonomous Region. Considered one of Hinduism’s holiest sites, the home of Lord Shiva, it is the pinnacle of Hindu pilgrimage. Since COVID restrictions on travel, China has specifically, not yet allowed Indians to travel into Tibet. Sensing a commercial opportunity, one travel agency offers a 45-minute charter flight that takes you to the mid-air border with China. Each passenger gets a window seat - you view Mt. Kailash 25kms away (assuming clear visibility) and fulfil your wishes. I was amazed but who am I to fathom faith and belief. A wealthy well-traveled ophthalmologist (“we have visited 78 countries and all 7 continents”) from Mangalore, represented the garrulous showy Indian, beaming with joy as India’s stock and property markets’ buoyancy afford the upper echelons of society, the disposable wealth to travel. 

 Sadly, a surge in demand to trek to Everest Base Camp (EBC) has sucked oxygen out from all other tourism in Nepal. Every airplane was diverted to satisfy this burgeoning demand. If you see pictures of EBC, it resembles grounds of Columbia university dotted with tents – not my cup of tea. As a result, we had no flights; our plan B was a 12-hour road trip to base camp. Crossing a rock and pebble strewn knee-deep river because the bridge was dislocated and hence unusable, turned out to be a minor inconvenience. Almost half of the journey once we got to remoter areas, felt like a churning through an open stone quarry. Boulders and jagged rocks jutting out of what purported to be a road were navigated thanks to the dexterity of our driver and the robustness of the Scorpio SUV by Mahindra and Mahindra, another Indian company.

 Humans have lived through three major technological revolutions. Invention of the steam engine, electrification and the computer revolution resulting in a massive ‘growth spurt’. Societies are defined by economic growth and material well-being. In contrast, Dolpo has no engines. Even today, grains are milled to flour in long mortars or traditional water mills. Electricity is fleeting as small rooftop solar panels are visible in some villages. Pungmo village with around 275 residents consumes just 3mw out of their 17mw capacity micro-hydroelectric station. Mobile signals are weak, but a few tea houses do have Wi-Fi – in 13 days I accessed the internet twice for a total of an hour (thanks to my colleague Cho Yu Kooi for managing our portfolio in my absence).

But the air is fresh and crisp, visibility for miles and the water pristine. Matthiessen again - “The light on the upper slopes slowly descends the mountain: where we have climbed is still in deep night shadow. Meeting the sun, I rest on the dry lichens that crown a granite islet in the whiteness. Three snow pigeons pass overhead, white wings cracking in the frozen air. To the east, a peak of Dhaulagiri shimmers in the halo of sun rays, and now the sun itself bursts forth, incandescent in a sky without a cloud, an ultimate blue that south over India is pale and warm and cold deep dark in the north over Tibet – a blue bluer than blue, transparent, ringing.” He traveled in autumn, but even this spring we had icicles on our tents early morning. If the blue of the sky is stunning, the waters of Lake Pokhsundo turn teal, turquoise or royal blue depending on the time of the day and intensity of light. The water, fed by glaciers from Upper Dolpo is captivating, cold and devoid of any animal life. This region’s isolation has preserved cultures but sadly, is not shielded from effects of climate change. Villagers in Parilagaon could not plant seeds for their second harvest due to lack of rains and poor snowfall last winter. Residents of Rahagaon were contemplating invoking the ‘mastas’ or spirits.

The origins of Bon religion remain shrouded in some mystery. According to Bonpo tradition, the religion predates Buddhism, founded by the divine teacher Tonpa Shenrab Miwo in the lost kingdom of Zhangzhung, possibly near Mount Kailash. While the historical accuracy of this narrative is debated by scholars (The History of Tibetan Religion by David Snellgrove), there's little doubt Bon predates the arrival of Buddhism in Tibet in the 7th century CE. Bon adheres to a complex cosmology, featuring a pantheon of deities representing various elements and forces of nature. Bon emphasizes maintaining harmony with this intricate web of existence. Appeasement of spirits, both benevolent and malevolent, plays a significant role in Bon rituals. This animistic approach aligns with practices found in many pre-Buddhist traditions, suggesting Bon's potential connection to ancient shamanic beliefs (The Bon Religion of Tibet by Geoffrey Samuel).

Norbu Dhondup Lama, 72, has devoted his life reading the scriptures. He lives at Pumer village with just 11 other residents. From Pungmo, we traversed a deep valley before climbing approximately 400 meters over yak paths to reach his monastery. With incredible views of the Dhaulagiri range, he remarked that the last decade he has seen glaciers melt at dizzying speeds. When asked, he was equanimous in saying that humans had disturbed nature’s balance.

China’s presence in the region is large and its impact on people, mixed. The border crossing at Dolpo is still closed for trade. Nepal is caught between two giant neighbours and their geopolitical rivalry. Demographically 81% Hindu, it also has a large Buddhist and Tibetan population. After the annexation of Tibet in 1951 by China, several Tibetans fled to India and Nepal. In Kathmandu, I met a person in his late 80’s who as a 14-year old was a foot soldier at Potala Palace for the Dalai Lama before escaping. His wife and he started out selling momos and now own the best Tibetan restaurant and guest house in Thamel. Under pressure from China, celebrating Tibetan new year is actively discouraged by the Nepal government and posters of Dalai Lama cannot be displayed in public.

Ironically, the Chinese demand for Yarsagumba – cordyceps – has proven a boon to the communities in Lower and Upper Dolpo. “In Tibetan, ‘yar’ means summer, ‘tsa’ means grass, ‘kuhun’ means winter and ‘bu’ means insect, referring to yarsagumba’s unique lifestyle as both a plant and an insect” (Jag Bahadur Budha – The Record). According to several articles on the web, the history of yarsagumba dates to 600-650 AD during the Tang dynasty. Around the 14th century, a Tibetan lama and physician was the first to mention the most desired properties of the cordyceps- enhances energy, supports respiratory and kidney health, and strengthens immune system. Starting around the 2nd week of May, schools close and people lock up their homes to take temporary residence high up in the mountains to collectively search for and collect yarsagumba. It is hard work, braving winds, rain and sometimes snow in even more isolated mountains 3500-5100 meters high, crawling on all fours to scour the ground and locate the cordyceps whose stroma stick out of the ground. In 1993, Chinese long-distance marathon runners broke international records. It was confirmed that the reason behind the success of the Chinese long-distance marathon runners was yarsagumba. Demand for yarsagumba and its international publicity suddenly skyrocketed. According to our guides and locals, 25 years ago, an individual piece sold for Nepali Rs.50; today that fetches Rs. 500 while the best quality ones could go for up to Rs.1,800 apiece. That's what the villagers get paid. The ultimate consumer in China, Hong Kong or Singapore pays 10-15x that price. Cho Yu was utterly disappointed I brought back just one when I had a chance to get many more! This additional income has supplemented incomes for the villagers in Dolpo, which is why they all eagerly look forward to May every year. Our local guide mentioned that one year he made Rs.70,000 (US$540) selling yarsagumba; to put in context, a yak cost around Rs. 80 to 100,000 (US$615 -770).

Like Matthiessen, I did not see a snow leopard. Dappled grey-white fur for camouflage and a furtive nature makes spotting one an unusually difficult feat. But we did see fresh pug marks on a mountain path on the way from Rike to Pungmo. Who can forget Vincent Munier the French wildlife photographer and documentary maker narrate the story of his famous photograph (https://search.app.goo.gl/b7UMmzL ) in the film The Velvet Queen. I did spot the bharal or blue sheep, a prey of the leopards. Dolpo is special in many ways; isolated, rugged, populated by a few people from a community so remote and ancient. For anyone keen to visit, I would highly recommend this trip – especially the slow tourism kind I did. If you need information on the organizer, message me as I vouch for Gavin wholeheartedly. As the world around seemed in turmoil, it allowed me to distract myself in solitude and come back with better clarity and wholesome appreciation for life.