Religious Landscapes<\/a>The Smell of the Cows<\/a>Team <\/a>Tashi Delek<\/a><\/em><\/a>Reshaping Mustang<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n<\/audio><\/figure>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTowards the end of my time in Kagbeni, I\nwalked into the lounge area of the hotel I was living at to find Aama laying on\none of the benches, reading quietly aloud to herself. Aama is the matriarch of\nthe hotel, the mother of Kunga. She visits the gompa<\/em> on occasion, but not every day like some of the older women\nin town do. You can often find her sitting in the sun, working on weaving with\nthe resident cat in her lap. That day, the sun streaming in from the southern\nwindows fell softly on her book, which held words written in Tibetan script.\nPlopping down across from her, I pulled out some reading of my own. <\/p>\n\n\n\nListening to the soft cadence of her voice, a few words caught my attention with their familiarity. Aama repeated the phrase \u201cOm mani padme hum\u201d every few lines, making me wonder if the book was a religious text. Om mani padme hum<\/em> is the most common mantra you will see or hear in Mustang. The mantra has gained such popularity in part because \u201call of the teachings of the Buddha are believed to be contained in this short, six-syllable mantra, which does not require initiation by a lama and is the most widely used of all Buddhist prayers\u201d (Buddhist Music of Tibet). The mantra is aimed at the compassion of Bodhisattva Avalokitesvara, with hope that repeating the words will bring the speaker a swifter path to enlightenment through removing all attention to desire. \u201cBehold the jewel of the lotus\u201d is carved into stones placed on mani<\/em> walls, metal and wood prayer wheels, and cliff faces themselves. People mumble the phrase to themselves as they sit in the sun, twirling a hand-held wheel in their hand, or as they walk past a prayer wall, spinning each wheel as they pass.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Prayer wheels being spun as someone walks past<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nIn its written form, the mantra appears in Tibetan characters. The spoken phrase, however, remains in its original Sanskrit. While many other mantras and texts are translated into Tibetan from Sanskrit, Om mani padme hum<\/em> remains. The khenpo<\/em> at Kagbeni\u2019s gompa<\/em> explained that this is because the sounds of the mantra are the most important, and that the phrase sounds strange when spoken in Tibetan. The chanting of the mantra becomes important \u201cnot by what it describes or cognitively reveals but by the complex vibration or feeling tone it creates in the practicing person\u201d (Coward and Goa 2004: 6). Thus, there is more power in the sounds of the spoken Sanskrit words than in their Tibetan equivalent. Om mani padme hum<\/em> stands out from other mantras and texts in this way, as Sanskrit is otherwise only spoken in formal circumstances such as in a recitation performance at the consecration of a new monastery building. In the case of the upcoming Kag Chode Monastic School consecration, for example, a piece in Sanskrit was to be performed by a student in order to pay homage to the original roots of Buddhism in India.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThe importance placed on sound is not unique to Kagbeni or to Tibetan Buddhism, but the way that it manifests in Kagbeni is linked to a wider cultural and religious landscape. In Tibetan Buddhism, \u201ccertain categories of Buddhist sacra are ascribed the power to liberate through sensory contact\u201d (Gayley 2007: 459). This means that there is a range of benefits in sensory contact with mantras, even including the claim that liberation is possible through seeing, hearing, tasting, wearing, or otherwise encountering certain texts, objects, and structures (Gayley 2007: 460). The impacts of this can be seen across the landscape of Upper Mustang, where the world is reshaped through interactions with mantras and the divine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n Figure 18: Prayer wheels on the northern side of Kagbeni <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\nFigure 19: Mantra written into stones on mani<\/em> wall<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nFigure 20: Om mani padme hum<\/em> carved on a rock wall on the road to Lupra <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nBetween bites of thukpa <\/em>later that evening, Kunga explained to me that when people in Kagbeni reach 60 years old, they become much more religious. Aama, his mother, is 61, and has thus reached this point in her life. He explained that she is reading religious texts, trying to learn more about Buddhist teachings now that she is getting older. I asked Kunga if he thought he would become more religious when he reached Aama\u2019s age. <\/p>\n\n\n\nHe chuckled in response. \u201cIf I\u2019m still alive.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\nDespite Kunga\u2019s distancing of himself with this comment, it is impossible to remove the impact of religion on his life. The sounds of Tibetan mantras, for example, were not a new feature in the household. In fact, I had been hearing recordings and videos of monks performing ceremonies since my first day in Kagbeni. In the afternoons, it was not uncommon for a group to form around a smartphone in the kitchen, playing a video of a puja on YouTube. Other times, I would hear videos of mantras-turned-songs being played during breakfast, always on someone\u2019s phone. Once, a group of women from around the town gathered to perform a household ceremony in the prayer room upstairs, chanting mantras late into the evening [sound clip of household ceremony]. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Household ceremony<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nFigure 21: Prayer room at hotel<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n And that is only within the walls of his hotel. Stepping outside, the entire landscape becomes transformed as prayer flags flap in the wind, as the voices of the monks performing their daily puja<\/em> in the gompa<\/em> are projected from loudspeakers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Puja<\/em> projected through loudspeakers at Kag Chode<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nThroughout my time in Kagbeni, Kunga routinely distanced himself from his own religiosity and connection to Loba culture when we talked. This could have been in part because I was only visiting, was there for research, and hadn\u2019t known him for long. The presence of religion or tradition in Kunga\u2019s life was always described in relation to others\u2019, such as when he informed me that people in Kagbeni, or in Lower Mustang, care much less about tradition than in Upper Mustang. He did not deny his beliefs, but always pointed to other people who he believed held more. <\/p>\n\n\n\nEven with this distancing, his life was not entirely absent of these things. It was often his phone which played the videos of pujas<\/em> in the kitchen, and he occasionally went to dance practices in preparation for a ceremony which would occur the following month. The pillars of his hotel are all marked with butter and herbs placed there by the monks, and a Bon guardian presides over the front entrance to the building. Buddhist ch\u00f6rtens<\/em> and their Bon counterparts are both found on the roof. One morning, I walked downstairs to find one of the older monks in the kitchen talking to the staff. Along with some of the other local hotel owners, Kunga occasionally went to the gompa<\/em> in order to meet with the khenpo<\/em> in preparation for the upcoming consecration ceremony.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n Figure 22: Butter and herbs placed on a pillar in a hotel <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\n Figure 23: Bon guardian over main entrance of a hotel <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n Figure 24: Three ch\u00f6rten<\/em> on a hotel rooftop with Nilgiri Mountain in the distance <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nThis distancing from religion is not unique\nto Kunga, who is now in his early 40s. The people who visit the gompa<\/em> most frequently are women Aama\u2019s\nage or older, often at the same time every day. Looking at the people who live\nin Kagbeni, there is a clear divide in the generations. Women above the age of\n40 most often wear the traditional Loba clothing, while younger women rarely\ndo. This shifts as you move northward up the Kali Gandaki closer to the capital\nof Lo, where more people wear the traditional Loba clothing. As Kunga\nexplained, this is because Upper and Lower\nMustang are very different, and that people like him down at the border between\nthe two in Kagbeni don\u2019t care as much about the traditional things. <\/p>\n\n\n\nKunga\u2019s comment about people becoming \u201cmore religious\u201d as they age points to a divide in how people think about religion. If religion is expected to be primarily text-based, then he is right that Aama is becoming more religious as she begins to read more Tibetan Buddhist teachings. This understanding of religion leaves out the impact that it has on every-day life. For lay people living in Kagbeni, the actual texts are not important. At the same time, students at the monastic school have classes on the dharma<\/em>, the teaching of the Buddha, and there is a ceremony that involves carrying the physical books of the Buddha\u2019s teachings around the boundaries of the town. In other words, the texts are not unimportant or irrelevant to the presence of religions in Kagbeni, but they are not the focus of lived religion there. Sound arguably becomes more important than the texts in this setting, as it reshapes the landscape and is used by monks and lay people alike. Whether or not lay people know the reason for the power in speaking certain words like om mani padme hum<\/em>, the phrase is a piece of daily interaction with the divine.<\/p>\n\n\n\nKagbeni lives at an interesting set of crossroads. There is the physical crossroads built by the government, bringing traders and trekkers north to Lo and pilgrims east to Muktinath. There is the cultural divide expressed by Kunga, separating Upper and Lower Mustang. This divide is not only about commitment to tradition, it also implicates the conflicting Nepali, Tibetan, and Loba identities. At the borders between these categories, people in Kagbeni are reshaped by the shifting factors every day. <\/p>\n\n\n\nReligious Landscapes<\/h3>\n\n\n\nThe primary religious influences found in Kagbeni are Tibetan Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism. All three mingle and overlap, sharing sites, beliefs, and practitioners. In all three, the landscape is an essential feature. Landmarks like mountains are said to be the homes of gods, and the convergences of rivers are sacred spaces. These religious landmarks in turn map onto real physical locations, allowing spiritual authority over key sacred sites to be translated into political power (Ramble 1995: 93). Upper Mustang presents a good example of this relationships between sacred and political space, as Lo Manthang is also the seat of a principal territorial deity in local cosmologies, and the surrounding areas are home to lesser gods (Ramble 1995: 91). The seat of political power in the region is also the seat of religious power. This dynamic of mapping religion onto the landscape is not unique to Kagbeni nor to the religions present there, yet it remains an important aspect of the Tibetan Buddhist and Bon ontologies. In addition to the daily practices of spinning prayer wheels or attending to the household gods, this shows us that the entire landscape of Mustang is covered in and changed by interactions with religion.<\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the river\nconvergence south of the gompa<\/em>, a\nsmall park of sorts holds both Hindu and Buddhist shrines. Hindu pilgrims and\nnovice monks from the monastic school wash themselves in the water as the smoke\nfrom incense flows over them. The prayer wall in the gompa<\/em> complex stretches down the bank, right to where the two\nrivers meet. Prayer flags are wrapped in tree branches and hang from the\nbridge. This site \u2013 right next to the main road through town \u2013 claims the\nattention of passers-by. It\u2019s colorful, loud, and often bustling with activity.\nBells are rung by pilgrims passing through, mingling with the beeping horns of\njeeps and the Bollywood music spilling from the windows of buses. Along with\nthe ch\u00f6rtens<\/em> in the streets and the\nmonastic school up the road, it is what most people passing through would point\nto as markers of \nKagbeni\u2019s religious nature. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n Figure 25: Incense burning at the convergence of the rivers <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\n Figure 26: Prayer flags lining a bridge over the Kali Gandaki <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nAn emphasis on\nphysical, visual, markings on the landscape negates the way the landscape of\nMustang has been shaped for centuries by various mythologies and sonic\nvibrations that claim space. In the Tibetan\nBuddhist ontology, \u201cTibetan architecture, landscape, and religious\nbeliefs are woven together, forming a sacred realm. The theme of the mandala is\npresent everywhere one goes; as a spiritual vehicle and a general model\u201d\n(Xu 2010: 182). The ch\u00f6rten<\/em> is one\nstructure which weaves together these themes into the form of a mandala. As Xu\nexplains, the physical structure of a ch\u00f6rten<\/em>\nis a three-dimensional representation of a mandala, a model of the universe.\nThese structures are sprinkled across the landscape of Mustang, and throughout\nKagbeni. Varying in size and style, they are reminders of the nature of the\nuniverse, and \u201cof the spiritual realm in which Mustang is embedded\u201d (Bubriski\net al. 2018: 19). Similarly, the music used in pujas creates a mandala through\nthe way sound is created (Ellingson 1979).<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\nFigure 27: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> with paintings inside in the middle of a Kagbeni street <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\n Figure 28: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> and communal washing area in a Kagbeni street <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n Figure 29: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> at the end of a prayer wall on the peninsula between the two rivers <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nBecause of this\nemphasis on the land as being a home to deities and itself a mandala, Tibetan\nBuddhist teachings often emphasize the proper use of land in order to prevent\npollution, especially of water resources. For example, by describing how a\ntoilet should be built to promote a healthy environment, or promoting the\nplanting of trees to prevent deforestation (Vigoda 1989: 26). While water is\ngenerally sacred, or purifying, in the Tibetan landscape it takes on the\nadditional context of being scarce, and thus even more important for sustaining\nlife. <\/p>\n\n\n\nOne practice\nfrequently associated with Mustang is Sky Burial. This death ritual is often\ndescribed in documentaries and tourism materials as something that keeps\nMustang linked to the past. Vigoda explains that this is yet another example of\na religious practice reacting to the conditions of the environment. She says:<\/p>\n\n\n\n[Sky Burial] is carried out at the tops of hills and mountains, where bodies are chopped up and fed to the birds\u2026 [it] is indicative of how the lack of natural resources, and the Buddhist idea of the interdependence of all things, are manifested in a religious custom (Vigoda 1989: 29). <\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nIn recent years, however, the practice has\ndied out almost completely. There are a few reasons for this. First, Himalayan\nVultures are now an endangered species. These giant birds who once played a\nlarge role in disposing of corpses were impacted by the use of DDT in India,\nand have thus decreased in population considerably. I noticed a distinct lack\nof vultures on my second visit to Mustang in 2018, whereas my group had\ngleefully spotted a few of the birds two years before. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe second reason for\nthe deemphasis on Sky Burials is linked to global trends of modernization.\nTraditional practices, especially around death, are often looked down on or\nseen as backward by more powerful, \u2018modern\u2019 or \u2018developed\u2019 countries. Even\nthough Mustang is remote and difficult to navigate, it has been linked to trade\nnetworks for hundreds of years. Many of the wealthier families in Mustang have\nhouses in Kathmandu as well, and often travel outside the region. Seasonal jobs\nbring people to India and Tibet for trade or construction work, and children\nare often sent to school in Pokhara or Kathmandu. As a result, there are many\nways that the communities of Mustang are shaped by global trends, even without\ntaking the impact of tourism into consideration. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the same time, the\nimagination of Mustang as a stronghold of Tibetan culture is one of the main\ndraws for tourism in the region, and there are many groups which are trying to\npreserve the culture of the region. The perception that Mustang\u2019s culture and\nlanguage is unique and under attack by globalization and modernization is\nprevalent among NGOs internal and external to Nepal. While there are some\ngroups like the American Himalayan Foundation that strive towards cultural\npreservation, Sky Burials are not the focus of preservation initiatives. On the\nother hand, the few Sky Burials that do still happen today have become a draw\nfor tourists who want to see a different culture in action; preservation for\nthe sake of tourism has a different sort of friction. <\/p>\n\n\n\nWhile the Buddha\u2019s\nteachings make an impact on practitioners\u2019 relationship to the land, so does\nthe presence of the other deities in the Tibetan Buddhist and Bon cosmologies.\nThese deities inhabit the sky, atmosphere, and earth, and can be both\nbenevolent and wrathful (25). The domains of these deities recognized in\nTibetan Buddhism and Bon map onto the physical landscape of Mustang, and are\nmirrored by the structures built. In Mustang, the emphasis is placed most\nheavily on the mythology of Guru Padmasambhava, or Guru Rinpoche. In fact, the\nfigure of Guru Rinpoche is more important than that of the Buddha, and it is\nhis likeness that sits at the altar of some monasteries. <\/p>\n\n\n\nMuktinath, the\npilgrimage site to the east of Kagbeni, is one site where Guru Padmasambhava is\nsaid to have stopped, thus making it an important Buddhist site in addition to its\nimportance for Hindu pilgrims. A few days\u2019 walk north, outside of Gami village,\nthe longest mani<\/em> wall in Nepal sprawls\nacross a plateau, marking the site of a battle between Guru Padmasambhava and a\ndemoness. The canyon walls are blue and red with her blood, and a ch\u00f6rten<\/em> built in the 8th<\/sup>\ncentury safeguards her heart, cut out by Guru Padmasambhava. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Figure 30: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> north of Gami, where the demoness\u2019 heart is kept <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nIn addition to shaping the physical environment with ch\u00f6rtens<\/em>, monasteries, sound, and prayer flags, much of Tibetan Buddhism focuses on turning inwards. In the harsh landscape of high-altitude desert, methods of self-realization are emphasized in order to have a chance of escaping samsara<\/em>, the cycle of rebirth, in a future life (Gualtieri 1983: 170-1). As discussed above, this often involves sensory contact with mantras, whether it be chanting them or carving or painting them on rock walls. Peter Crossley-Holland explains another aspect of the mantra\u2019s significance. According to him, \u201ca mantra is a symbol for the divine being it is said to embody, but it is also believed to be more than that: it is believed to be an actual emanation from that being, and so an aspect of it\u201d (Crossley-Holland 1976: 50). Following this logic, sensory interaction with a mantra is interaction with the divine. Similarly, the mantras written all over the landscape help to cloak it in the presence of the divine.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis ability of the mantra to reshape the landscape is exemplified further in the prayer flags hung from high surfaces all across Tibetan Buddhist communities. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Prayer flags in the wind<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nFigure 31: Prayer flags flapping in the wind <\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\nMy friend Sherab explained to me that the Buddhist prayer flags are hung in the windiest places, because every time they flap they send the mantra written on them out into the world. As discussed earlier, mantras have the ability to reshape people and places through sensory contact. Imagine a line of flags, whipping back and forth. With each movement, waves of vibrations are carried across the landscape, spreading the mantra written on their threads as far as the wind will carry it. These waves of vibrations create sounds, too [sound clip of flags in the wind]. In his study of voice, place, and identity in Kenya, Andrew Eisenberg writes about the territoriality of sound, the ways that sounds can create social space based on how far they travel and who interacts with them. He argues that \u201csonic practices territorialize by virtue of combining physical vibration with bodily sensation and culturally conditioned meanings\u201d (2015: 199). As the prayer flags send out their vibrations in the wind, they shape the landscape around them into a sacred space, from which liberation becomes more accessible. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe\nphysical vibrations emanating from flags reminds us how religious icons and\ntexts have the ability to transform \u201cthe ordinary, coarse world into an\nextraordinary realm of spiritual wisdom and compassion\u201d (Farkas 2009: 30). From the way mandalas are created in buildings\nto represent the universe, to the dying practice of Sky Burials, to the sounds\nof prayer flags in the wind, we see how \u201cterritorial and spatial\ndimensions are intrinsically linked to the practice of\nreligion\u201d (Terrone 2014: 463).This\nis not religion that adheres primarily to specific doctrines, but is rather a\nform of religion incorporated into daily life through smaller practices and\nreflections of the landscape.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nThe Smell of the Cows<\/h3>\n\n\n\n Figure 31: Cows in the street in Kagbeni <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Cows in the morning<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nThroughout\nmy time in Kagbeni, I heard over and over about people who had left the town and\ncame back years later, or who now live elsewhere and visit as often as\npossible. I was surprised by the number of visitors I met in the month I was living\nthere, and how positively they reminisced about returning home. When I asked\npeople if they would want to return and live in Kagbeni instead of only\nvisiting, they said things like \u201cthat would be nice\u201d or \u201coh yes, I wish,\u201d but\nin a way that told me they never would. I became curious about why many people return\nto visit, but so few come back for good.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis question could be answered in part by looking at the factors limiting opportunities in Mustang, which is one of the main reasons people leave. Not surprisingly, the restriction of the region from the 1960s onwards played a large role in Mustang\u2019s ability to grow and change over time. Manjushree Thapa explains this dynamic:<\/p>\n\n\n\nRestriction had not kept Upper Mustang beyond the reach of the modern world. Rather, it had forced people out. No new sources of income had entered the area, nor had traditional occupations found means to grow. The history-book pattern \u2014 of farming in the spring, animal husbandry in the summer, and trading in the winter \u2014 had remained the same for centuries; it had stagnated (Thapa 2008: 80).<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis restriction was\naccentuated by Chinese policies to the North as well. Following 1959 and the\ninvasion of Tibet, \u201cChinese authorities had clamped down on the practice of\ngrazing of Nepali animals on Tibetan grassland\u201d (Thapa 2008: 51). This means\nthat there was less dung that could be used for fuel, less animal meat, and\nless revenue. Migratory grazing was no longer an option in the way it once was.\nThis policy of restriction is promoted as something that protects the culture\nand keeps the area as a living museum, but has evidently harmed Mustang greatly\nafter decades of not providing support to the region. Without opportunities beyond\nagriculture and tourism, people who have the means to leave do, and only some return.<\/p>\n\n\n\nIt\nquickly became clear to me upon arriving in Mustang that the locals are heavily\nimpacted by the land. We have already seen this to some extent in the way that\nbuildings are made, and the relationships between religion and landscape. This\narea north of the Himalayas is classified as high-altitude desert, with\nlow-lying trees sparsely spread along the gorge. The endangered blue sheep roam\nthe hillsides above 3500 meters, and Himalayan vultures occasionally fly\noverhead. Wind and water have shaped the Kali Gandaki gorge (which was once on\nthe bottom of the ocean floor), but they have also shaped the people who live\nwithin its walls. <\/p>\n\n\n\nTowards the end of my stay in Kagbeni, I had the opportunity to meet three siblings who are originally from the town but now live in New York City. They were a few years older than me. The sister had moved to the United States for school, and was working on a master\u2019s degree. When I met the siblings, they were visiting their mother and grandmother, and said that they would be in Mustang for two months before returning to the USA. They missed this place, they told me, and needed to get a break from the hectic lifestyle of the city. I began to tell them about my project, explaining that the idea started because I was curious about the relationship with people and place. The sister nodded and said \u201cthe people here, they really respect the land, you know? Not like in New York.\u201d It is clear that, in Kagbeni, much more attention is given to what comes from the land, and how people interact with the land on a daily basis. In New York City, the sister argued, this connection, this respect, was lost. This sentiment was communicated to me by other people I met, like Kunga, who took such pride in the fresh food of Kagbeni, and it made the cultural use of the land another site of differentiation for the people who spoke about Mustang. Just as with the political and geographic boundaries placed on Upper Mustang, statements like the sister\u2019s once again distance Mustang from other places, this time focusing on the people rather than the land. This is done by both outsiders as well as locals. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAnother friend \u2013 Mama \u2013 told me a similar story about another Loba who lived in New York for many years before returning to Kagbeni: \u201che just gave up everything and moved back here to Kagbeni… he just loved this place, man. The smell of the cows.\u201d As someone who lives in Kathmandu but returns to his home in Tiri (across the river from Kagbeni) a few times a year, Mama showed a sense of disbelief at the man in his story. He too had moved away, made a new life and started a family in the city. One of his brothers was living in New York, studying to be a photographer. And yet, they were both pulled back to Kagbeni and Tiri, just like the three siblings earlier. Mama may have laughed about the smells of the livestock, but even he admitted that he would like to visit more than he does. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the monastery, the monks provide another example of a lasting commitment to the Kagbeni community. The khenpo<\/em>, who also happens to be Mama\u2019s brother, was originally from Tiri and came back to head the monastery after receiving a higher level of monastic education in India. In addition, one of the younger monks, Dorje, was saw his role at the monastery as a service to his community. In his 20s, Dorje left Tiri for a few years to go to school and live in Kathmandu, but has since returned in order to give back to Kagbeni as the middle son of his family. Dorje explained that it is common for people from the surrounding towns to serve at the monastery for a few years, without the expectation that they would remain a monk. In his case, Dorje spent one year at the monastery before returning to Kathmandu for a year, and is now finishing his time at Kag Chode in a two-year segment. He prefers living in Kathmandu, like many other men around his age that I talked to, but also recognizes that it is nice to be out of the city and back where his family is from. When asked if he would continue to be a monk when his three years of service were over, Dorje admitted that he had not yet decided. <\/p>\n\n\n\nOne of my older\nstudents showed this commitment in a different way. In order to be ordained at\na higher level, monks in the Sakya sect must receive further schooling in\nIndia. Of the 64 students at Kag Chode, it is likely that only a few will\nfollow this path. As they get older, students often decide to disrobe and\nreenter lay society. Since the school provides both a monastic and secular\neducation, many families send their children there for the free education and\nhousing, knowing that their children will be able to succeed with the education\nwhether or not they remain as monks. When I talked to one student about his\nplans following his graduation, he told me that he wants to be ordained at a\nhigher level, which means going to India. After receiving this further\neducation, his goal is to return to Mustang and help run the gompa<\/em> and teach younger students. <\/p>\n\n\n\nPeople\nleave Mustang for school, better jobs, seasonal work, or other opportunities.\nThey come back for different seasonal work, festivals, or to visit family. Because\nthe winters are harsh in Mustang, many people leave for the season. While a few\nolder community members and children stay behind to keep the town running in\nthe coldest months, the majority of people find work or live elsewhere. The\nentire monastic school, for instance, picks up and moves to Pokhara for a few\nmonths. This seasonal migration is by no means a new phenomenon, and shows that\neven when Mustang was restricted to foreigners, people have always come and\ngone with some frequency. Their claim of being Loba, however, remains with\nthem. People living in Kathmandu identify where they are from or what their\nethnic background is when they talk about their life in the city, and they also\nlabel others in this way. For example, one trekking guide mentioned that he has\n\u201ca lot of Manangi friends.\u201d Manang is the region to the east of Mustang, and\neven if his friends live predominantly in Kathmandu, the guide still identifies\nthem as being from Manang. In the same way, people often refer to a place as\n\u201cmy village,\u201d even when they have lived in Kathmandu for most of their lives.\nAlong the same lines, people who live in Kathmandu almost never say that they\nare form Kathmandu. <\/p>\n\n\n\nClaiming\nthe identity of the village or region your family is from is common throughout\nNepal, and is in many ways related to the caste system and Hinduization in the\nPanchayat era. This is also in part due to the wide diversity of ethnic groups\nand languages in Nepal, and the original formation of the country in the 18th<\/sup>\ncentury as a unified kingdom made up of many smaller, previously distinct\ngroups. While people in Mustang are definitively Nepali, they have a deep\nconnection to their homeland. As with the gompa<\/em>\ndonor now living in Hong Kong, many people want to maintain a connection to the\nregion and support it when they can. In Mustang\nBhot in Fragments<\/em>, Manjushree Thapa tells the story of one man who lived in\nKathmandu many years before returning to Mustang, hoping to improve the area after\ngrowing accustomed to the ways of the city. When asked why he wanted to come\nback and work on developing the area, he responded \u201cthis is home. If we don\u2019t\nimprove it, who will?\u201d (Thapa 2008: 50). This statement not only shows the deep\nconnection that Loba have to their communities, it also implies that other\npeople cannot be counted on to improve life there. After a history of being let\ndown by the Nepali government and other development projects, it makes sense\nthat the community would take it into their own hands to build the road north\nto Tibet, to spur the possibility of more opportunities.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nTeam Tashi Delek<\/em><\/h3>\n\n\n\nUp until this point, there have been occasional points of friction between Nepali and Tibetan and Loba identities. In ethnicity, religion, culture, and language, people of Mustang appear to be closer to Tibet than Nepal. This perception is held by most Nepali citizens, both from Mustang and from elsewhere. At the same time, these borderland communities are still Nepali, learning the official language and singing the national anthem each day in school. One day in class at Kag Chode, I was working with the students to practice grouping words that use the same vowel sounds. I created teams, splitting the class in half, and asked what they wanted their team names to be. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Tashi Delek<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Namaste<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe students broke into laughter, pleased with the names they had chosen. <\/p>\n\n\n\nI bring up this moment with the students (this class was ages 10 through 12) because it points to a divide in how Loba people perceive themselves in relation to Nepal. Tashi<\/em> delek<\/em> and namaste<\/em> are Tibetan and Nepali words respectively, and are both used as greetings. The local language in Mustang is Loke, which is closely related to Tibetan. As a result, tashi delek<\/em> is almost always what you hear being tossed around as you walk through the streets. Namaste <\/em>is reserved for foreigners and other Nepalis. While children are taught both Nepali and English in school (in addition to Tibetan language at monastic schools), people primarily still speak in Loke in Kagbeni, rarely switching into Nepali or English unless there is another person around who speaks one of those languages. English, Nepali, and Tibetan music mingle in the streets of Kagbeni, as people play music to accompany the harvest, household chores, or evening downtime. Each language carries a different cadence, mediating spoken interactions between locals and others passing through.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis divide is in part due to the Nepali government\u2019s history of aid (or lack of it) in Mustang, but is also deeply rooted in the cultural identity of Mustang. The heart of this issue comes from the distance that is felt between what it means to be Nepali and what it means to be Tibetan, and finding a place somewhere in between. While giving myself and a Nepali business group from Kathmandu a tour of Kagbeni, Mama explained <\/p>\n\n\n\nUpper Mustang, Lower Mustang, we want to be called Tibetan, but we are not Tibetan. Tibetans are migratory people you know? But because I was born here I can say that I\u2019m Tibetan. Historically we wandered around place to place with the yaks looking for grass.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis points to the\ndivide between how Loba people see themselves and how other Tibetan and Nepali\ngroups see them. My friend explained that even though he is not \u2018Tibetan,\u2019 he\nstill identifies as being Tibetan, and does so proudly. Similar sentiments were\nexpressed to me by other people in Kagbeni. Throughout Kagbeni, and Upper\nMustang to the north, people align themselves more closely with Tibetan culture\nthan Nepali, while still maintaining their Nepali identity as well. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe royal family of Mustang provides a good example of the complicated relationship between Nepali and Tibetan identities. The family is said to be descended from Tibetan kings, yet today holds the surname Bista. This once again traces to the Rana regime and the following Panchayat era, in which \u201cof necessity, the [Loba] colonized themselves\u201d (Thapa 2008: 124). The name Bista comes from high-caste Hindu families originally, and was thus appropriated in order to increase the family\u2019s authority and recognition in the eyes of the Nepali government (Thapa 2008). Other Loba took on surnames in a similar way, often appropriating names of ethnic groups to the south of Mustang. While the Bistas are no longer recognized by the Nepali government today, they still hold social power in the region. One trekking guide who was originally from Lo Manthang told me that part of the reason the local people still respect and listen to the royal family is because \u201cit is past karma,\u201d so the people of Mustang just know to follow them. Whatever the reason, it became clear to me that the Loba put more trust and respect in the royal family of Mustang than the Nepali government.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBeyond language, there are other clear physical markers which point to the Loba being more in line with Tibetan culture. The clothing, buildings, and even the landscape of Upper Mustang all mirror that which is found in Tibet. While my friends from other regions of Nepal frequently spoke of wanting to travel to other regions of the country, the Loba I know in Kagbeni only ever spoke of wishing to visit Tibet. This is not purely for religious reasons, though going to pilgrimage sites such as Manasarovar lake certainly contributes to this desire. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThis closeness to Tibetan culture was further emphasized after 1959, when Mustang became a one of many settlement areas for Tibetan refugees \u201cdue to its close proximity to Tibetan territory, strong kinship and monastic relations with Tibetan populations and social\u2013physical landscape congruent to the Tibetan Plateau\u201d (Murton 2017: 538). Here, it is clear that the association between Mustang and Tibet goes past simply proximity or culture. In popular discourse, however, Mustang is still essentialized as being as close as you can get to \u201cauthentic\u201d Tibetan culture as it was before 1959. This perception is damaging for many reasons, and will be explored more in relation to tourism.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nReshaping Mustang<\/h3>\n\n\n\nMustang, Nepal has been\nshaped both internally and externally by religion and its relationship to\npolitics and culture. Buddhist and Bon structures have physically reshaped the\nlandscape, linking to mythology that maps onto it. These recreations of the\nland go back hundreds of years, to when Guru Rinpoche first came through the\nKali Gandaki in the 8th<\/sup> century. Bon influences on the land go back\neven further. The mingling of Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism has taken on ulterior\nmotives in the last century, however. Due to the governmental policies and lack\nof infrastructure in the region, Loba were pushed to either assimilate and\nbecome more recognizably \u201cNepali\u201d (meaning more Hindu), or leave for better\nopportunities elsewhere. The relationship with Tibet to the north was largely\nhalted as well, with only a trade fair in the summer remaining.<\/p>\n\n\n\nTurning\ntowards the tourism industry, the region is frequently characterized as a\nstronghold of Tibetan culture and religion, preserved by the restriction of the\nregion. Government policies, tourism agencies, and even museums point to\nMustang as being a special place in Nepal because of the presence of Tibetan\nBuddhism and Bon in its valleys. Kagbeni, on the border between Upper and Lower\nMustang, shows us that this popular essentialization of Loba people as purely\nreligious in many ways misinterprets the role of religion in daily life. Yes,\nsignals of Buddhism and Bon and Hinduism abound in the small town, and some\npeople do sit outside in the sun with prayer wheels spinning in their hands,\nbut this misses the complexity of the Kagbeni reality. Lives in Kagbeni are complicated and reshaped\nconstantly by the government, religions, and tourists intersecting within its\nspace. In the following chapter, I turn to look more closely at the impacts of\ntourism in and scholarship about Kagbeni and Upper Mustang.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTourism: Exceptionalism, Pilgrimage, and Romance<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Culture, Landscapes, and Identity Religious LandscapesThe Smell of the CowsTeam Tashi DelekReshaping Mustang Towards the end of my time in Kagbeni, I walked into the lounge area of the hotel I was living at to find Aama laying on one of the benches, reading quietly aloud to herself. Aama is the matriarch of the hotel, … Continue reading Religion<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3090,"featured_media":145,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-8","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3090"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8"}],"version-history":[{"count":18,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":368,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions\/368"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/145"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
Towards the end of my time in Kagbeni, I\nwalked into the lounge area of the hotel I was living at to find Aama laying on\none of the benches, reading quietly aloud to herself. Aama is the matriarch of\nthe hotel, the mother of Kunga. She visits the gompa<\/em> on occasion, but not every day like some of the older women\nin town do. You can often find her sitting in the sun, working on weaving with\nthe resident cat in her lap. That day, the sun streaming in from the southern\nwindows fell softly on her book, which held words written in Tibetan script.\nPlopping down across from her, I pulled out some reading of my own. <\/p>\n\n\n\nListening to the soft cadence of her voice, a few words caught my attention with their familiarity. Aama repeated the phrase \u201cOm mani padme hum\u201d every few lines, making me wonder if the book was a religious text. Om mani padme hum<\/em> is the most common mantra you will see or hear in Mustang. The mantra has gained such popularity in part because \u201call of the teachings of the Buddha are believed to be contained in this short, six-syllable mantra, which does not require initiation by a lama and is the most widely used of all Buddhist prayers\u201d (Buddhist Music of Tibet). The mantra is aimed at the compassion of Bodhisattva Avalokitesvara, with hope that repeating the words will bring the speaker a swifter path to enlightenment through removing all attention to desire. \u201cBehold the jewel of the lotus\u201d is carved into stones placed on mani<\/em> walls, metal and wood prayer wheels, and cliff faces themselves. People mumble the phrase to themselves as they sit in the sun, twirling a hand-held wheel in their hand, or as they walk past a prayer wall, spinning each wheel as they pass.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Prayer wheels being spun as someone walks past<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nIn its written form, the mantra appears in Tibetan characters. The spoken phrase, however, remains in its original Sanskrit. While many other mantras and texts are translated into Tibetan from Sanskrit, Om mani padme hum<\/em> remains. The khenpo<\/em> at Kagbeni\u2019s gompa<\/em> explained that this is because the sounds of the mantra are the most important, and that the phrase sounds strange when spoken in Tibetan. The chanting of the mantra becomes important \u201cnot by what it describes or cognitively reveals but by the complex vibration or feeling tone it creates in the practicing person\u201d (Coward and Goa 2004: 6). Thus, there is more power in the sounds of the spoken Sanskrit words than in their Tibetan equivalent. Om mani padme hum<\/em> stands out from other mantras and texts in this way, as Sanskrit is otherwise only spoken in formal circumstances such as in a recitation performance at the consecration of a new monastery building. In the case of the upcoming Kag Chode Monastic School consecration, for example, a piece in Sanskrit was to be performed by a student in order to pay homage to the original roots of Buddhism in India.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThe importance placed on sound is not unique to Kagbeni or to Tibetan Buddhism, but the way that it manifests in Kagbeni is linked to a wider cultural and religious landscape. In Tibetan Buddhism, \u201ccertain categories of Buddhist sacra are ascribed the power to liberate through sensory contact\u201d (Gayley 2007: 459). This means that there is a range of benefits in sensory contact with mantras, even including the claim that liberation is possible through seeing, hearing, tasting, wearing, or otherwise encountering certain texts, objects, and structures (Gayley 2007: 460). The impacts of this can be seen across the landscape of Upper Mustang, where the world is reshaped through interactions with mantras and the divine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n Figure 18: Prayer wheels on the northern side of Kagbeni <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\nFigure 19: Mantra written into stones on mani<\/em> wall<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nFigure 20: Om mani padme hum<\/em> carved on a rock wall on the road to Lupra <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nBetween bites of thukpa <\/em>later that evening, Kunga explained to me that when people in Kagbeni reach 60 years old, they become much more religious. Aama, his mother, is 61, and has thus reached this point in her life. He explained that she is reading religious texts, trying to learn more about Buddhist teachings now that she is getting older. I asked Kunga if he thought he would become more religious when he reached Aama\u2019s age. <\/p>\n\n\n\nHe chuckled in response. \u201cIf I\u2019m still alive.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\nDespite Kunga\u2019s distancing of himself with this comment, it is impossible to remove the impact of religion on his life. The sounds of Tibetan mantras, for example, were not a new feature in the household. In fact, I had been hearing recordings and videos of monks performing ceremonies since my first day in Kagbeni. In the afternoons, it was not uncommon for a group to form around a smartphone in the kitchen, playing a video of a puja on YouTube. Other times, I would hear videos of mantras-turned-songs being played during breakfast, always on someone\u2019s phone. Once, a group of women from around the town gathered to perform a household ceremony in the prayer room upstairs, chanting mantras late into the evening [sound clip of household ceremony]. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Household ceremony<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nFigure 21: Prayer room at hotel<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n And that is only within the walls of his hotel. Stepping outside, the entire landscape becomes transformed as prayer flags flap in the wind, as the voices of the monks performing their daily puja<\/em> in the gompa<\/em> are projected from loudspeakers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Puja<\/em> projected through loudspeakers at Kag Chode<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nThroughout my time in Kagbeni, Kunga routinely distanced himself from his own religiosity and connection to Loba culture when we talked. This could have been in part because I was only visiting, was there for research, and hadn\u2019t known him for long. The presence of religion or tradition in Kunga\u2019s life was always described in relation to others\u2019, such as when he informed me that people in Kagbeni, or in Lower Mustang, care much less about tradition than in Upper Mustang. He did not deny his beliefs, but always pointed to other people who he believed held more. <\/p>\n\n\n\nEven with this distancing, his life was not entirely absent of these things. It was often his phone which played the videos of pujas<\/em> in the kitchen, and he occasionally went to dance practices in preparation for a ceremony which would occur the following month. The pillars of his hotel are all marked with butter and herbs placed there by the monks, and a Bon guardian presides over the front entrance to the building. Buddhist ch\u00f6rtens<\/em> and their Bon counterparts are both found on the roof. One morning, I walked downstairs to find one of the older monks in the kitchen talking to the staff. Along with some of the other local hotel owners, Kunga occasionally went to the gompa<\/em> in order to meet with the khenpo<\/em> in preparation for the upcoming consecration ceremony.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n Figure 22: Butter and herbs placed on a pillar in a hotel <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\n Figure 23: Bon guardian over main entrance of a hotel <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n Figure 24: Three ch\u00f6rten<\/em> on a hotel rooftop with Nilgiri Mountain in the distance <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nThis distancing from religion is not unique\nto Kunga, who is now in his early 40s. The people who visit the gompa<\/em> most frequently are women Aama\u2019s\nage or older, often at the same time every day. Looking at the people who live\nin Kagbeni, there is a clear divide in the generations. Women above the age of\n40 most often wear the traditional Loba clothing, while younger women rarely\ndo. This shifts as you move northward up the Kali Gandaki closer to the capital\nof Lo, where more people wear the traditional Loba clothing. As Kunga\nexplained, this is because Upper and Lower\nMustang are very different, and that people like him down at the border between\nthe two in Kagbeni don\u2019t care as much about the traditional things. <\/p>\n\n\n\nKunga\u2019s comment about people becoming \u201cmore religious\u201d as they age points to a divide in how people think about religion. If religion is expected to be primarily text-based, then he is right that Aama is becoming more religious as she begins to read more Tibetan Buddhist teachings. This understanding of religion leaves out the impact that it has on every-day life. For lay people living in Kagbeni, the actual texts are not important. At the same time, students at the monastic school have classes on the dharma<\/em>, the teaching of the Buddha, and there is a ceremony that involves carrying the physical books of the Buddha\u2019s teachings around the boundaries of the town. In other words, the texts are not unimportant or irrelevant to the presence of religions in Kagbeni, but they are not the focus of lived religion there. Sound arguably becomes more important than the texts in this setting, as it reshapes the landscape and is used by monks and lay people alike. Whether or not lay people know the reason for the power in speaking certain words like om mani padme hum<\/em>, the phrase is a piece of daily interaction with the divine.<\/p>\n\n\n\nKagbeni lives at an interesting set of crossroads. There is the physical crossroads built by the government, bringing traders and trekkers north to Lo and pilgrims east to Muktinath. There is the cultural divide expressed by Kunga, separating Upper and Lower Mustang. This divide is not only about commitment to tradition, it also implicates the conflicting Nepali, Tibetan, and Loba identities. At the borders between these categories, people in Kagbeni are reshaped by the shifting factors every day. <\/p>\n\n\n\nReligious Landscapes<\/h3>\n\n\n\nThe primary religious influences found in Kagbeni are Tibetan Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism. All three mingle and overlap, sharing sites, beliefs, and practitioners. In all three, the landscape is an essential feature. Landmarks like mountains are said to be the homes of gods, and the convergences of rivers are sacred spaces. These religious landmarks in turn map onto real physical locations, allowing spiritual authority over key sacred sites to be translated into political power (Ramble 1995: 93). Upper Mustang presents a good example of this relationships between sacred and political space, as Lo Manthang is also the seat of a principal territorial deity in local cosmologies, and the surrounding areas are home to lesser gods (Ramble 1995: 91). The seat of political power in the region is also the seat of religious power. This dynamic of mapping religion onto the landscape is not unique to Kagbeni nor to the religions present there, yet it remains an important aspect of the Tibetan Buddhist and Bon ontologies. In addition to the daily practices of spinning prayer wheels or attending to the household gods, this shows us that the entire landscape of Mustang is covered in and changed by interactions with religion.<\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the river\nconvergence south of the gompa<\/em>, a\nsmall park of sorts holds both Hindu and Buddhist shrines. Hindu pilgrims and\nnovice monks from the monastic school wash themselves in the water as the smoke\nfrom incense flows over them. The prayer wall in the gompa<\/em> complex stretches down the bank, right to where the two\nrivers meet. Prayer flags are wrapped in tree branches and hang from the\nbridge. This site \u2013 right next to the main road through town \u2013 claims the\nattention of passers-by. It\u2019s colorful, loud, and often bustling with activity.\nBells are rung by pilgrims passing through, mingling with the beeping horns of\njeeps and the Bollywood music spilling from the windows of buses. Along with\nthe ch\u00f6rtens<\/em> in the streets and the\nmonastic school up the road, it is what most people passing through would point\nto as markers of \nKagbeni\u2019s religious nature. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n Figure 25: Incense burning at the convergence of the rivers <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\n Figure 26: Prayer flags lining a bridge over the Kali Gandaki <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nAn emphasis on\nphysical, visual, markings on the landscape negates the way the landscape of\nMustang has been shaped for centuries by various mythologies and sonic\nvibrations that claim space. In the Tibetan\nBuddhist ontology, \u201cTibetan architecture, landscape, and religious\nbeliefs are woven together, forming a sacred realm. The theme of the mandala is\npresent everywhere one goes; as a spiritual vehicle and a general model\u201d\n(Xu 2010: 182). The ch\u00f6rten<\/em> is one\nstructure which weaves together these themes into the form of a mandala. As Xu\nexplains, the physical structure of a ch\u00f6rten<\/em>\nis a three-dimensional representation of a mandala, a model of the universe.\nThese structures are sprinkled across the landscape of Mustang, and throughout\nKagbeni. Varying in size and style, they are reminders of the nature of the\nuniverse, and \u201cof the spiritual realm in which Mustang is embedded\u201d (Bubriski\net al. 2018: 19). Similarly, the music used in pujas creates a mandala through\nthe way sound is created (Ellingson 1979).<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\nFigure 27: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> with paintings inside in the middle of a Kagbeni street <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\n Figure 28: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> and communal washing area in a Kagbeni street <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n Figure 29: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> at the end of a prayer wall on the peninsula between the two rivers <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nBecause of this\nemphasis on the land as being a home to deities and itself a mandala, Tibetan\nBuddhist teachings often emphasize the proper use of land in order to prevent\npollution, especially of water resources. For example, by describing how a\ntoilet should be built to promote a healthy environment, or promoting the\nplanting of trees to prevent deforestation (Vigoda 1989: 26). While water is\ngenerally sacred, or purifying, in the Tibetan landscape it takes on the\nadditional context of being scarce, and thus even more important for sustaining\nlife. <\/p>\n\n\n\nOne practice\nfrequently associated with Mustang is Sky Burial. This death ritual is often\ndescribed in documentaries and tourism materials as something that keeps\nMustang linked to the past. Vigoda explains that this is yet another example of\na religious practice reacting to the conditions of the environment. She says:<\/p>\n\n\n\n[Sky Burial] is carried out at the tops of hills and mountains, where bodies are chopped up and fed to the birds\u2026 [it] is indicative of how the lack of natural resources, and the Buddhist idea of the interdependence of all things, are manifested in a religious custom (Vigoda 1989: 29). <\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nIn recent years, however, the practice has\ndied out almost completely. There are a few reasons for this. First, Himalayan\nVultures are now an endangered species. These giant birds who once played a\nlarge role in disposing of corpses were impacted by the use of DDT in India,\nand have thus decreased in population considerably. I noticed a distinct lack\nof vultures on my second visit to Mustang in 2018, whereas my group had\ngleefully spotted a few of the birds two years before. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe second reason for\nthe deemphasis on Sky Burials is linked to global trends of modernization.\nTraditional practices, especially around death, are often looked down on or\nseen as backward by more powerful, \u2018modern\u2019 or \u2018developed\u2019 countries. Even\nthough Mustang is remote and difficult to navigate, it has been linked to trade\nnetworks for hundreds of years. Many of the wealthier families in Mustang have\nhouses in Kathmandu as well, and often travel outside the region. Seasonal jobs\nbring people to India and Tibet for trade or construction work, and children\nare often sent to school in Pokhara or Kathmandu. As a result, there are many\nways that the communities of Mustang are shaped by global trends, even without\ntaking the impact of tourism into consideration. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the same time, the\nimagination of Mustang as a stronghold of Tibetan culture is one of the main\ndraws for tourism in the region, and there are many groups which are trying to\npreserve the culture of the region. The perception that Mustang\u2019s culture and\nlanguage is unique and under attack by globalization and modernization is\nprevalent among NGOs internal and external to Nepal. While there are some\ngroups like the American Himalayan Foundation that strive towards cultural\npreservation, Sky Burials are not the focus of preservation initiatives. On the\nother hand, the few Sky Burials that do still happen today have become a draw\nfor tourists who want to see a different culture in action; preservation for\nthe sake of tourism has a different sort of friction. <\/p>\n\n\n\nWhile the Buddha\u2019s\nteachings make an impact on practitioners\u2019 relationship to the land, so does\nthe presence of the other deities in the Tibetan Buddhist and Bon cosmologies.\nThese deities inhabit the sky, atmosphere, and earth, and can be both\nbenevolent and wrathful (25). The domains of these deities recognized in\nTibetan Buddhism and Bon map onto the physical landscape of Mustang, and are\nmirrored by the structures built. In Mustang, the emphasis is placed most\nheavily on the mythology of Guru Padmasambhava, or Guru Rinpoche. In fact, the\nfigure of Guru Rinpoche is more important than that of the Buddha, and it is\nhis likeness that sits at the altar of some monasteries. <\/p>\n\n\n\nMuktinath, the\npilgrimage site to the east of Kagbeni, is one site where Guru Padmasambhava is\nsaid to have stopped, thus making it an important Buddhist site in addition to its\nimportance for Hindu pilgrims. A few days\u2019 walk north, outside of Gami village,\nthe longest mani<\/em> wall in Nepal sprawls\nacross a plateau, marking the site of a battle between Guru Padmasambhava and a\ndemoness. The canyon walls are blue and red with her blood, and a ch\u00f6rten<\/em> built in the 8th<\/sup>\ncentury safeguards her heart, cut out by Guru Padmasambhava. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Figure 30: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> north of Gami, where the demoness\u2019 heart is kept <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nIn addition to shaping the physical environment with ch\u00f6rtens<\/em>, monasteries, sound, and prayer flags, much of Tibetan Buddhism focuses on turning inwards. In the harsh landscape of high-altitude desert, methods of self-realization are emphasized in order to have a chance of escaping samsara<\/em>, the cycle of rebirth, in a future life (Gualtieri 1983: 170-1). As discussed above, this often involves sensory contact with mantras, whether it be chanting them or carving or painting them on rock walls. Peter Crossley-Holland explains another aspect of the mantra\u2019s significance. According to him, \u201ca mantra is a symbol for the divine being it is said to embody, but it is also believed to be more than that: it is believed to be an actual emanation from that being, and so an aspect of it\u201d (Crossley-Holland 1976: 50). Following this logic, sensory interaction with a mantra is interaction with the divine. Similarly, the mantras written all over the landscape help to cloak it in the presence of the divine.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis ability of the mantra to reshape the landscape is exemplified further in the prayer flags hung from high surfaces all across Tibetan Buddhist communities. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Prayer flags in the wind<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nFigure 31: Prayer flags flapping in the wind <\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\nMy friend Sherab explained to me that the Buddhist prayer flags are hung in the windiest places, because every time they flap they send the mantra written on them out into the world. As discussed earlier, mantras have the ability to reshape people and places through sensory contact. Imagine a line of flags, whipping back and forth. With each movement, waves of vibrations are carried across the landscape, spreading the mantra written on their threads as far as the wind will carry it. These waves of vibrations create sounds, too [sound clip of flags in the wind]. In his study of voice, place, and identity in Kenya, Andrew Eisenberg writes about the territoriality of sound, the ways that sounds can create social space based on how far they travel and who interacts with them. He argues that \u201csonic practices territorialize by virtue of combining physical vibration with bodily sensation and culturally conditioned meanings\u201d (2015: 199). As the prayer flags send out their vibrations in the wind, they shape the landscape around them into a sacred space, from which liberation becomes more accessible. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe\nphysical vibrations emanating from flags reminds us how religious icons and\ntexts have the ability to transform \u201cthe ordinary, coarse world into an\nextraordinary realm of spiritual wisdom and compassion\u201d (Farkas 2009: 30). From the way mandalas are created in buildings\nto represent the universe, to the dying practice of Sky Burials, to the sounds\nof prayer flags in the wind, we see how \u201cterritorial and spatial\ndimensions are intrinsically linked to the practice of\nreligion\u201d (Terrone 2014: 463).This\nis not religion that adheres primarily to specific doctrines, but is rather a\nform of religion incorporated into daily life through smaller practices and\nreflections of the landscape.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nThe Smell of the Cows<\/h3>\n\n\n\n Figure 31: Cows in the street in Kagbeni <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Cows in the morning<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nThroughout\nmy time in Kagbeni, I heard over and over about people who had left the town and\ncame back years later, or who now live elsewhere and visit as often as\npossible. I was surprised by the number of visitors I met in the month I was living\nthere, and how positively they reminisced about returning home. When I asked\npeople if they would want to return and live in Kagbeni instead of only\nvisiting, they said things like \u201cthat would be nice\u201d or \u201coh yes, I wish,\u201d but\nin a way that told me they never would. I became curious about why many people return\nto visit, but so few come back for good.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis question could be answered in part by looking at the factors limiting opportunities in Mustang, which is one of the main reasons people leave. Not surprisingly, the restriction of the region from the 1960s onwards played a large role in Mustang\u2019s ability to grow and change over time. Manjushree Thapa explains this dynamic:<\/p>\n\n\n\nRestriction had not kept Upper Mustang beyond the reach of the modern world. Rather, it had forced people out. No new sources of income had entered the area, nor had traditional occupations found means to grow. The history-book pattern \u2014 of farming in the spring, animal husbandry in the summer, and trading in the winter \u2014 had remained the same for centuries; it had stagnated (Thapa 2008: 80).<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis restriction was\naccentuated by Chinese policies to the North as well. Following 1959 and the\ninvasion of Tibet, \u201cChinese authorities had clamped down on the practice of\ngrazing of Nepali animals on Tibetan grassland\u201d (Thapa 2008: 51). This means\nthat there was less dung that could be used for fuel, less animal meat, and\nless revenue. Migratory grazing was no longer an option in the way it once was.\nThis policy of restriction is promoted as something that protects the culture\nand keeps the area as a living museum, but has evidently harmed Mustang greatly\nafter decades of not providing support to the region. Without opportunities beyond\nagriculture and tourism, people who have the means to leave do, and only some return.<\/p>\n\n\n\nIt\nquickly became clear to me upon arriving in Mustang that the locals are heavily\nimpacted by the land. We have already seen this to some extent in the way that\nbuildings are made, and the relationships between religion and landscape. This\narea north of the Himalayas is classified as high-altitude desert, with\nlow-lying trees sparsely spread along the gorge. The endangered blue sheep roam\nthe hillsides above 3500 meters, and Himalayan vultures occasionally fly\noverhead. Wind and water have shaped the Kali Gandaki gorge (which was once on\nthe bottom of the ocean floor), but they have also shaped the people who live\nwithin its walls. <\/p>\n\n\n\nTowards the end of my stay in Kagbeni, I had the opportunity to meet three siblings who are originally from the town but now live in New York City. They were a few years older than me. The sister had moved to the United States for school, and was working on a master\u2019s degree. When I met the siblings, they were visiting their mother and grandmother, and said that they would be in Mustang for two months before returning to the USA. They missed this place, they told me, and needed to get a break from the hectic lifestyle of the city. I began to tell them about my project, explaining that the idea started because I was curious about the relationship with people and place. The sister nodded and said \u201cthe people here, they really respect the land, you know? Not like in New York.\u201d It is clear that, in Kagbeni, much more attention is given to what comes from the land, and how people interact with the land on a daily basis. In New York City, the sister argued, this connection, this respect, was lost. This sentiment was communicated to me by other people I met, like Kunga, who took such pride in the fresh food of Kagbeni, and it made the cultural use of the land another site of differentiation for the people who spoke about Mustang. Just as with the political and geographic boundaries placed on Upper Mustang, statements like the sister\u2019s once again distance Mustang from other places, this time focusing on the people rather than the land. This is done by both outsiders as well as locals. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAnother friend \u2013 Mama \u2013 told me a similar story about another Loba who lived in New York for many years before returning to Kagbeni: \u201che just gave up everything and moved back here to Kagbeni… he just loved this place, man. The smell of the cows.\u201d As someone who lives in Kathmandu but returns to his home in Tiri (across the river from Kagbeni) a few times a year, Mama showed a sense of disbelief at the man in his story. He too had moved away, made a new life and started a family in the city. One of his brothers was living in New York, studying to be a photographer. And yet, they were both pulled back to Kagbeni and Tiri, just like the three siblings earlier. Mama may have laughed about the smells of the livestock, but even he admitted that he would like to visit more than he does. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the monastery, the monks provide another example of a lasting commitment to the Kagbeni community. The khenpo<\/em>, who also happens to be Mama\u2019s brother, was originally from Tiri and came back to head the monastery after receiving a higher level of monastic education in India. In addition, one of the younger monks, Dorje, was saw his role at the monastery as a service to his community. In his 20s, Dorje left Tiri for a few years to go to school and live in Kathmandu, but has since returned in order to give back to Kagbeni as the middle son of his family. Dorje explained that it is common for people from the surrounding towns to serve at the monastery for a few years, without the expectation that they would remain a monk. In his case, Dorje spent one year at the monastery before returning to Kathmandu for a year, and is now finishing his time at Kag Chode in a two-year segment. He prefers living in Kathmandu, like many other men around his age that I talked to, but also recognizes that it is nice to be out of the city and back where his family is from. When asked if he would continue to be a monk when his three years of service were over, Dorje admitted that he had not yet decided. <\/p>\n\n\n\nOne of my older\nstudents showed this commitment in a different way. In order to be ordained at\na higher level, monks in the Sakya sect must receive further schooling in\nIndia. Of the 64 students at Kag Chode, it is likely that only a few will\nfollow this path. As they get older, students often decide to disrobe and\nreenter lay society. Since the school provides both a monastic and secular\neducation, many families send their children there for the free education and\nhousing, knowing that their children will be able to succeed with the education\nwhether or not they remain as monks. When I talked to one student about his\nplans following his graduation, he told me that he wants to be ordained at a\nhigher level, which means going to India. After receiving this further\neducation, his goal is to return to Mustang and help run the gompa<\/em> and teach younger students. <\/p>\n\n\n\nPeople\nleave Mustang for school, better jobs, seasonal work, or other opportunities.\nThey come back for different seasonal work, festivals, or to visit family. Because\nthe winters are harsh in Mustang, many people leave for the season. While a few\nolder community members and children stay behind to keep the town running in\nthe coldest months, the majority of people find work or live elsewhere. The\nentire monastic school, for instance, picks up and moves to Pokhara for a few\nmonths. This seasonal migration is by no means a new phenomenon, and shows that\neven when Mustang was restricted to foreigners, people have always come and\ngone with some frequency. Their claim of being Loba, however, remains with\nthem. People living in Kathmandu identify where they are from or what their\nethnic background is when they talk about their life in the city, and they also\nlabel others in this way. For example, one trekking guide mentioned that he has\n\u201ca lot of Manangi friends.\u201d Manang is the region to the east of Mustang, and\neven if his friends live predominantly in Kathmandu, the guide still identifies\nthem as being from Manang. In the same way, people often refer to a place as\n\u201cmy village,\u201d even when they have lived in Kathmandu for most of their lives.\nAlong the same lines, people who live in Kathmandu almost never say that they\nare form Kathmandu. <\/p>\n\n\n\nClaiming\nthe identity of the village or region your family is from is common throughout\nNepal, and is in many ways related to the caste system and Hinduization in the\nPanchayat era. This is also in part due to the wide diversity of ethnic groups\nand languages in Nepal, and the original formation of the country in the 18th<\/sup>\ncentury as a unified kingdom made up of many smaller, previously distinct\ngroups. While people in Mustang are definitively Nepali, they have a deep\nconnection to their homeland. As with the gompa<\/em>\ndonor now living in Hong Kong, many people want to maintain a connection to the\nregion and support it when they can. In Mustang\nBhot in Fragments<\/em>, Manjushree Thapa tells the story of one man who lived in\nKathmandu many years before returning to Mustang, hoping to improve the area after\ngrowing accustomed to the ways of the city. When asked why he wanted to come\nback and work on developing the area, he responded \u201cthis is home. If we don\u2019t\nimprove it, who will?\u201d (Thapa 2008: 50). This statement not only shows the deep\nconnection that Loba have to their communities, it also implies that other\npeople cannot be counted on to improve life there. After a history of being let\ndown by the Nepali government and other development projects, it makes sense\nthat the community would take it into their own hands to build the road north\nto Tibet, to spur the possibility of more opportunities.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nTeam Tashi Delek<\/em><\/h3>\n\n\n\nUp until this point, there have been occasional points of friction between Nepali and Tibetan and Loba identities. In ethnicity, religion, culture, and language, people of Mustang appear to be closer to Tibet than Nepal. This perception is held by most Nepali citizens, both from Mustang and from elsewhere. At the same time, these borderland communities are still Nepali, learning the official language and singing the national anthem each day in school. One day in class at Kag Chode, I was working with the students to practice grouping words that use the same vowel sounds. I created teams, splitting the class in half, and asked what they wanted their team names to be. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Tashi Delek<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Namaste<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe students broke into laughter, pleased with the names they had chosen. <\/p>\n\n\n\nI bring up this moment with the students (this class was ages 10 through 12) because it points to a divide in how Loba people perceive themselves in relation to Nepal. Tashi<\/em> delek<\/em> and namaste<\/em> are Tibetan and Nepali words respectively, and are both used as greetings. The local language in Mustang is Loke, which is closely related to Tibetan. As a result, tashi delek<\/em> is almost always what you hear being tossed around as you walk through the streets. Namaste <\/em>is reserved for foreigners and other Nepalis. While children are taught both Nepali and English in school (in addition to Tibetan language at monastic schools), people primarily still speak in Loke in Kagbeni, rarely switching into Nepali or English unless there is another person around who speaks one of those languages. English, Nepali, and Tibetan music mingle in the streets of Kagbeni, as people play music to accompany the harvest, household chores, or evening downtime. Each language carries a different cadence, mediating spoken interactions between locals and others passing through.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis divide is in part due to the Nepali government\u2019s history of aid (or lack of it) in Mustang, but is also deeply rooted in the cultural identity of Mustang. The heart of this issue comes from the distance that is felt between what it means to be Nepali and what it means to be Tibetan, and finding a place somewhere in between. While giving myself and a Nepali business group from Kathmandu a tour of Kagbeni, Mama explained <\/p>\n\n\n\nUpper Mustang, Lower Mustang, we want to be called Tibetan, but we are not Tibetan. Tibetans are migratory people you know? But because I was born here I can say that I\u2019m Tibetan. Historically we wandered around place to place with the yaks looking for grass.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis points to the\ndivide between how Loba people see themselves and how other Tibetan and Nepali\ngroups see them. My friend explained that even though he is not \u2018Tibetan,\u2019 he\nstill identifies as being Tibetan, and does so proudly. Similar sentiments were\nexpressed to me by other people in Kagbeni. Throughout Kagbeni, and Upper\nMustang to the north, people align themselves more closely with Tibetan culture\nthan Nepali, while still maintaining their Nepali identity as well. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe royal family of Mustang provides a good example of the complicated relationship between Nepali and Tibetan identities. The family is said to be descended from Tibetan kings, yet today holds the surname Bista. This once again traces to the Rana regime and the following Panchayat era, in which \u201cof necessity, the [Loba] colonized themselves\u201d (Thapa 2008: 124). The name Bista comes from high-caste Hindu families originally, and was thus appropriated in order to increase the family\u2019s authority and recognition in the eyes of the Nepali government (Thapa 2008). Other Loba took on surnames in a similar way, often appropriating names of ethnic groups to the south of Mustang. While the Bistas are no longer recognized by the Nepali government today, they still hold social power in the region. One trekking guide who was originally from Lo Manthang told me that part of the reason the local people still respect and listen to the royal family is because \u201cit is past karma,\u201d so the people of Mustang just know to follow them. Whatever the reason, it became clear to me that the Loba put more trust and respect in the royal family of Mustang than the Nepali government.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBeyond language, there are other clear physical markers which point to the Loba being more in line with Tibetan culture. The clothing, buildings, and even the landscape of Upper Mustang all mirror that which is found in Tibet. While my friends from other regions of Nepal frequently spoke of wanting to travel to other regions of the country, the Loba I know in Kagbeni only ever spoke of wishing to visit Tibet. This is not purely for religious reasons, though going to pilgrimage sites such as Manasarovar lake certainly contributes to this desire. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThis closeness to Tibetan culture was further emphasized after 1959, when Mustang became a one of many settlement areas for Tibetan refugees \u201cdue to its close proximity to Tibetan territory, strong kinship and monastic relations with Tibetan populations and social\u2013physical landscape congruent to the Tibetan Plateau\u201d (Murton 2017: 538). Here, it is clear that the association between Mustang and Tibet goes past simply proximity or culture. In popular discourse, however, Mustang is still essentialized as being as close as you can get to \u201cauthentic\u201d Tibetan culture as it was before 1959. This perception is damaging for many reasons, and will be explored more in relation to tourism.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nReshaping Mustang<\/h3>\n\n\n\nMustang, Nepal has been\nshaped both internally and externally by religion and its relationship to\npolitics and culture. Buddhist and Bon structures have physically reshaped the\nlandscape, linking to mythology that maps onto it. These recreations of the\nland go back hundreds of years, to when Guru Rinpoche first came through the\nKali Gandaki in the 8th<\/sup> century. Bon influences on the land go back\neven further. The mingling of Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism has taken on ulterior\nmotives in the last century, however. Due to the governmental policies and lack\nof infrastructure in the region, Loba were pushed to either assimilate and\nbecome more recognizably \u201cNepali\u201d (meaning more Hindu), or leave for better\nopportunities elsewhere. The relationship with Tibet to the north was largely\nhalted as well, with only a trade fair in the summer remaining.<\/p>\n\n\n\nTurning\ntowards the tourism industry, the region is frequently characterized as a\nstronghold of Tibetan culture and religion, preserved by the restriction of the\nregion. Government policies, tourism agencies, and even museums point to\nMustang as being a special place in Nepal because of the presence of Tibetan\nBuddhism and Bon in its valleys. Kagbeni, on the border between Upper and Lower\nMustang, shows us that this popular essentialization of Loba people as purely\nreligious in many ways misinterprets the role of religion in daily life. Yes,\nsignals of Buddhism and Bon and Hinduism abound in the small town, and some\npeople do sit outside in the sun with prayer wheels spinning in their hands,\nbut this misses the complexity of the Kagbeni reality. Lives in Kagbeni are complicated and reshaped\nconstantly by the government, religions, and tourists intersecting within its\nspace. In the following chapter, I turn to look more closely at the impacts of\ntourism in and scholarship about Kagbeni and Upper Mustang.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTourism: Exceptionalism, Pilgrimage, and Romance<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Culture, Landscapes, and Identity Religious LandscapesThe Smell of the CowsTeam Tashi DelekReshaping Mustang Towards the end of my time in Kagbeni, I walked into the lounge area of the hotel I was living at to find Aama laying on one of the benches, reading quietly aloud to herself. Aama is the matriarch of the hotel, … Continue reading Religion<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3090,"featured_media":145,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-8","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3090"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8"}],"version-history":[{"count":18,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":368,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions\/368"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/145"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
Listening to the soft cadence of her voice, a few words caught my attention with their familiarity. Aama repeated the phrase \u201cOm mani padme hum\u201d every few lines, making me wonder if the book was a religious text. Om mani padme hum<\/em> is the most common mantra you will see or hear in Mustang. The mantra has gained such popularity in part because \u201call of the teachings of the Buddha are believed to be contained in this short, six-syllable mantra, which does not require initiation by a lama and is the most widely used of all Buddhist prayers\u201d (Buddhist Music of Tibet). The mantra is aimed at the compassion of Bodhisattva Avalokitesvara, with hope that repeating the words will bring the speaker a swifter path to enlightenment through removing all attention to desire. \u201cBehold the jewel of the lotus\u201d is carved into stones placed on mani<\/em> walls, metal and wood prayer wheels, and cliff faces themselves. People mumble the phrase to themselves as they sit in the sun, twirling a hand-held wheel in their hand, or as they walk past a prayer wall, spinning each wheel as they pass.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Prayer wheels being spun as someone walks past<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nIn its written form, the mantra appears in Tibetan characters. The spoken phrase, however, remains in its original Sanskrit. While many other mantras and texts are translated into Tibetan from Sanskrit, Om mani padme hum<\/em> remains. The khenpo<\/em> at Kagbeni\u2019s gompa<\/em> explained that this is because the sounds of the mantra are the most important, and that the phrase sounds strange when spoken in Tibetan. The chanting of the mantra becomes important \u201cnot by what it describes or cognitively reveals but by the complex vibration or feeling tone it creates in the practicing person\u201d (Coward and Goa 2004: 6). Thus, there is more power in the sounds of the spoken Sanskrit words than in their Tibetan equivalent. Om mani padme hum<\/em> stands out from other mantras and texts in this way, as Sanskrit is otherwise only spoken in formal circumstances such as in a recitation performance at the consecration of a new monastery building. In the case of the upcoming Kag Chode Monastic School consecration, for example, a piece in Sanskrit was to be performed by a student in order to pay homage to the original roots of Buddhism in India.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThe importance placed on sound is not unique to Kagbeni or to Tibetan Buddhism, but the way that it manifests in Kagbeni is linked to a wider cultural and religious landscape. In Tibetan Buddhism, \u201ccertain categories of Buddhist sacra are ascribed the power to liberate through sensory contact\u201d (Gayley 2007: 459). This means that there is a range of benefits in sensory contact with mantras, even including the claim that liberation is possible through seeing, hearing, tasting, wearing, or otherwise encountering certain texts, objects, and structures (Gayley 2007: 460). The impacts of this can be seen across the landscape of Upper Mustang, where the world is reshaped through interactions with mantras and the divine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n Figure 18: Prayer wheels on the northern side of Kagbeni <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\nFigure 19: Mantra written into stones on mani<\/em> wall<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nFigure 20: Om mani padme hum<\/em> carved on a rock wall on the road to Lupra <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nBetween bites of thukpa <\/em>later that evening, Kunga explained to me that when people in Kagbeni reach 60 years old, they become much more religious. Aama, his mother, is 61, and has thus reached this point in her life. He explained that she is reading religious texts, trying to learn more about Buddhist teachings now that she is getting older. I asked Kunga if he thought he would become more religious when he reached Aama\u2019s age. <\/p>\n\n\n\nHe chuckled in response. \u201cIf I\u2019m still alive.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\nDespite Kunga\u2019s distancing of himself with this comment, it is impossible to remove the impact of religion on his life. The sounds of Tibetan mantras, for example, were not a new feature in the household. In fact, I had been hearing recordings and videos of monks performing ceremonies since my first day in Kagbeni. In the afternoons, it was not uncommon for a group to form around a smartphone in the kitchen, playing a video of a puja on YouTube. Other times, I would hear videos of mantras-turned-songs being played during breakfast, always on someone\u2019s phone. Once, a group of women from around the town gathered to perform a household ceremony in the prayer room upstairs, chanting mantras late into the evening [sound clip of household ceremony]. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Household ceremony<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nFigure 21: Prayer room at hotel<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n And that is only within the walls of his hotel. Stepping outside, the entire landscape becomes transformed as prayer flags flap in the wind, as the voices of the monks performing their daily puja<\/em> in the gompa<\/em> are projected from loudspeakers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Puja<\/em> projected through loudspeakers at Kag Chode<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nThroughout my time in Kagbeni, Kunga routinely distanced himself from his own religiosity and connection to Loba culture when we talked. This could have been in part because I was only visiting, was there for research, and hadn\u2019t known him for long. The presence of religion or tradition in Kunga\u2019s life was always described in relation to others\u2019, such as when he informed me that people in Kagbeni, or in Lower Mustang, care much less about tradition than in Upper Mustang. He did not deny his beliefs, but always pointed to other people who he believed held more. <\/p>\n\n\n\nEven with this distancing, his life was not entirely absent of these things. It was often his phone which played the videos of pujas<\/em> in the kitchen, and he occasionally went to dance practices in preparation for a ceremony which would occur the following month. The pillars of his hotel are all marked with butter and herbs placed there by the monks, and a Bon guardian presides over the front entrance to the building. Buddhist ch\u00f6rtens<\/em> and their Bon counterparts are both found on the roof. One morning, I walked downstairs to find one of the older monks in the kitchen talking to the staff. Along with some of the other local hotel owners, Kunga occasionally went to the gompa<\/em> in order to meet with the khenpo<\/em> in preparation for the upcoming consecration ceremony.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n Figure 22: Butter and herbs placed on a pillar in a hotel <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\n Figure 23: Bon guardian over main entrance of a hotel <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n Figure 24: Three ch\u00f6rten<\/em> on a hotel rooftop with Nilgiri Mountain in the distance <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nThis distancing from religion is not unique\nto Kunga, who is now in his early 40s. The people who visit the gompa<\/em> most frequently are women Aama\u2019s\nage or older, often at the same time every day. Looking at the people who live\nin Kagbeni, there is a clear divide in the generations. Women above the age of\n40 most often wear the traditional Loba clothing, while younger women rarely\ndo. This shifts as you move northward up the Kali Gandaki closer to the capital\nof Lo, where more people wear the traditional Loba clothing. As Kunga\nexplained, this is because Upper and Lower\nMustang are very different, and that people like him down at the border between\nthe two in Kagbeni don\u2019t care as much about the traditional things. <\/p>\n\n\n\nKunga\u2019s comment about people becoming \u201cmore religious\u201d as they age points to a divide in how people think about religion. If religion is expected to be primarily text-based, then he is right that Aama is becoming more religious as she begins to read more Tibetan Buddhist teachings. This understanding of religion leaves out the impact that it has on every-day life. For lay people living in Kagbeni, the actual texts are not important. At the same time, students at the monastic school have classes on the dharma<\/em>, the teaching of the Buddha, and there is a ceremony that involves carrying the physical books of the Buddha\u2019s teachings around the boundaries of the town. In other words, the texts are not unimportant or irrelevant to the presence of religions in Kagbeni, but they are not the focus of lived religion there. Sound arguably becomes more important than the texts in this setting, as it reshapes the landscape and is used by monks and lay people alike. Whether or not lay people know the reason for the power in speaking certain words like om mani padme hum<\/em>, the phrase is a piece of daily interaction with the divine.<\/p>\n\n\n\nKagbeni lives at an interesting set of crossroads. There is the physical crossroads built by the government, bringing traders and trekkers north to Lo and pilgrims east to Muktinath. There is the cultural divide expressed by Kunga, separating Upper and Lower Mustang. This divide is not only about commitment to tradition, it also implicates the conflicting Nepali, Tibetan, and Loba identities. At the borders between these categories, people in Kagbeni are reshaped by the shifting factors every day. <\/p>\n\n\n\nReligious Landscapes<\/h3>\n\n\n\nThe primary religious influences found in Kagbeni are Tibetan Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism. All three mingle and overlap, sharing sites, beliefs, and practitioners. In all three, the landscape is an essential feature. Landmarks like mountains are said to be the homes of gods, and the convergences of rivers are sacred spaces. These religious landmarks in turn map onto real physical locations, allowing spiritual authority over key sacred sites to be translated into political power (Ramble 1995: 93). Upper Mustang presents a good example of this relationships between sacred and political space, as Lo Manthang is also the seat of a principal territorial deity in local cosmologies, and the surrounding areas are home to lesser gods (Ramble 1995: 91). The seat of political power in the region is also the seat of religious power. This dynamic of mapping religion onto the landscape is not unique to Kagbeni nor to the religions present there, yet it remains an important aspect of the Tibetan Buddhist and Bon ontologies. In addition to the daily practices of spinning prayer wheels or attending to the household gods, this shows us that the entire landscape of Mustang is covered in and changed by interactions with religion.<\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the river\nconvergence south of the gompa<\/em>, a\nsmall park of sorts holds both Hindu and Buddhist shrines. Hindu pilgrims and\nnovice monks from the monastic school wash themselves in the water as the smoke\nfrom incense flows over them. The prayer wall in the gompa<\/em> complex stretches down the bank, right to where the two\nrivers meet. Prayer flags are wrapped in tree branches and hang from the\nbridge. This site \u2013 right next to the main road through town \u2013 claims the\nattention of passers-by. It\u2019s colorful, loud, and often bustling with activity.\nBells are rung by pilgrims passing through, mingling with the beeping horns of\njeeps and the Bollywood music spilling from the windows of buses. Along with\nthe ch\u00f6rtens<\/em> in the streets and the\nmonastic school up the road, it is what most people passing through would point\nto as markers of \nKagbeni\u2019s religious nature. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n Figure 25: Incense burning at the convergence of the rivers <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\n Figure 26: Prayer flags lining a bridge over the Kali Gandaki <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nAn emphasis on\nphysical, visual, markings on the landscape negates the way the landscape of\nMustang has been shaped for centuries by various mythologies and sonic\nvibrations that claim space. In the Tibetan\nBuddhist ontology, \u201cTibetan architecture, landscape, and religious\nbeliefs are woven together, forming a sacred realm. The theme of the mandala is\npresent everywhere one goes; as a spiritual vehicle and a general model\u201d\n(Xu 2010: 182). The ch\u00f6rten<\/em> is one\nstructure which weaves together these themes into the form of a mandala. As Xu\nexplains, the physical structure of a ch\u00f6rten<\/em>\nis a three-dimensional representation of a mandala, a model of the universe.\nThese structures are sprinkled across the landscape of Mustang, and throughout\nKagbeni. Varying in size and style, they are reminders of the nature of the\nuniverse, and \u201cof the spiritual realm in which Mustang is embedded\u201d (Bubriski\net al. 2018: 19). Similarly, the music used in pujas creates a mandala through\nthe way sound is created (Ellingson 1979).<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\nFigure 27: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> with paintings inside in the middle of a Kagbeni street <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\n Figure 28: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> and communal washing area in a Kagbeni street <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n Figure 29: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> at the end of a prayer wall on the peninsula between the two rivers <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nBecause of this\nemphasis on the land as being a home to deities and itself a mandala, Tibetan\nBuddhist teachings often emphasize the proper use of land in order to prevent\npollution, especially of water resources. For example, by describing how a\ntoilet should be built to promote a healthy environment, or promoting the\nplanting of trees to prevent deforestation (Vigoda 1989: 26). While water is\ngenerally sacred, or purifying, in the Tibetan landscape it takes on the\nadditional context of being scarce, and thus even more important for sustaining\nlife. <\/p>\n\n\n\nOne practice\nfrequently associated with Mustang is Sky Burial. This death ritual is often\ndescribed in documentaries and tourism materials as something that keeps\nMustang linked to the past. Vigoda explains that this is yet another example of\na religious practice reacting to the conditions of the environment. She says:<\/p>\n\n\n\n[Sky Burial] is carried out at the tops of hills and mountains, where bodies are chopped up and fed to the birds\u2026 [it] is indicative of how the lack of natural resources, and the Buddhist idea of the interdependence of all things, are manifested in a religious custom (Vigoda 1989: 29). <\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nIn recent years, however, the practice has\ndied out almost completely. There are a few reasons for this. First, Himalayan\nVultures are now an endangered species. These giant birds who once played a\nlarge role in disposing of corpses were impacted by the use of DDT in India,\nand have thus decreased in population considerably. I noticed a distinct lack\nof vultures on my second visit to Mustang in 2018, whereas my group had\ngleefully spotted a few of the birds two years before. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe second reason for\nthe deemphasis on Sky Burials is linked to global trends of modernization.\nTraditional practices, especially around death, are often looked down on or\nseen as backward by more powerful, \u2018modern\u2019 or \u2018developed\u2019 countries. Even\nthough Mustang is remote and difficult to navigate, it has been linked to trade\nnetworks for hundreds of years. Many of the wealthier families in Mustang have\nhouses in Kathmandu as well, and often travel outside the region. Seasonal jobs\nbring people to India and Tibet for trade or construction work, and children\nare often sent to school in Pokhara or Kathmandu. As a result, there are many\nways that the communities of Mustang are shaped by global trends, even without\ntaking the impact of tourism into consideration. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the same time, the\nimagination of Mustang as a stronghold of Tibetan culture is one of the main\ndraws for tourism in the region, and there are many groups which are trying to\npreserve the culture of the region. The perception that Mustang\u2019s culture and\nlanguage is unique and under attack by globalization and modernization is\nprevalent among NGOs internal and external to Nepal. While there are some\ngroups like the American Himalayan Foundation that strive towards cultural\npreservation, Sky Burials are not the focus of preservation initiatives. On the\nother hand, the few Sky Burials that do still happen today have become a draw\nfor tourists who want to see a different culture in action; preservation for\nthe sake of tourism has a different sort of friction. <\/p>\n\n\n\nWhile the Buddha\u2019s\nteachings make an impact on practitioners\u2019 relationship to the land, so does\nthe presence of the other deities in the Tibetan Buddhist and Bon cosmologies.\nThese deities inhabit the sky, atmosphere, and earth, and can be both\nbenevolent and wrathful (25). The domains of these deities recognized in\nTibetan Buddhism and Bon map onto the physical landscape of Mustang, and are\nmirrored by the structures built. In Mustang, the emphasis is placed most\nheavily on the mythology of Guru Padmasambhava, or Guru Rinpoche. In fact, the\nfigure of Guru Rinpoche is more important than that of the Buddha, and it is\nhis likeness that sits at the altar of some monasteries. <\/p>\n\n\n\nMuktinath, the\npilgrimage site to the east of Kagbeni, is one site where Guru Padmasambhava is\nsaid to have stopped, thus making it an important Buddhist site in addition to its\nimportance for Hindu pilgrims. A few days\u2019 walk north, outside of Gami village,\nthe longest mani<\/em> wall in Nepal sprawls\nacross a plateau, marking the site of a battle between Guru Padmasambhava and a\ndemoness. The canyon walls are blue and red with her blood, and a ch\u00f6rten<\/em> built in the 8th<\/sup>\ncentury safeguards her heart, cut out by Guru Padmasambhava. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Figure 30: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> north of Gami, where the demoness\u2019 heart is kept <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nIn addition to shaping the physical environment with ch\u00f6rtens<\/em>, monasteries, sound, and prayer flags, much of Tibetan Buddhism focuses on turning inwards. In the harsh landscape of high-altitude desert, methods of self-realization are emphasized in order to have a chance of escaping samsara<\/em>, the cycle of rebirth, in a future life (Gualtieri 1983: 170-1). As discussed above, this often involves sensory contact with mantras, whether it be chanting them or carving or painting them on rock walls. Peter Crossley-Holland explains another aspect of the mantra\u2019s significance. According to him, \u201ca mantra is a symbol for the divine being it is said to embody, but it is also believed to be more than that: it is believed to be an actual emanation from that being, and so an aspect of it\u201d (Crossley-Holland 1976: 50). Following this logic, sensory interaction with a mantra is interaction with the divine. Similarly, the mantras written all over the landscape help to cloak it in the presence of the divine.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis ability of the mantra to reshape the landscape is exemplified further in the prayer flags hung from high surfaces all across Tibetan Buddhist communities. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Prayer flags in the wind<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nFigure 31: Prayer flags flapping in the wind <\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\nMy friend Sherab explained to me that the Buddhist prayer flags are hung in the windiest places, because every time they flap they send the mantra written on them out into the world. As discussed earlier, mantras have the ability to reshape people and places through sensory contact. Imagine a line of flags, whipping back and forth. With each movement, waves of vibrations are carried across the landscape, spreading the mantra written on their threads as far as the wind will carry it. These waves of vibrations create sounds, too [sound clip of flags in the wind]. In his study of voice, place, and identity in Kenya, Andrew Eisenberg writes about the territoriality of sound, the ways that sounds can create social space based on how far they travel and who interacts with them. He argues that \u201csonic practices territorialize by virtue of combining physical vibration with bodily sensation and culturally conditioned meanings\u201d (2015: 199). As the prayer flags send out their vibrations in the wind, they shape the landscape around them into a sacred space, from which liberation becomes more accessible. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe\nphysical vibrations emanating from flags reminds us how religious icons and\ntexts have the ability to transform \u201cthe ordinary, coarse world into an\nextraordinary realm of spiritual wisdom and compassion\u201d (Farkas 2009: 30). From the way mandalas are created in buildings\nto represent the universe, to the dying practice of Sky Burials, to the sounds\nof prayer flags in the wind, we see how \u201cterritorial and spatial\ndimensions are intrinsically linked to the practice of\nreligion\u201d (Terrone 2014: 463).This\nis not religion that adheres primarily to specific doctrines, but is rather a\nform of religion incorporated into daily life through smaller practices and\nreflections of the landscape.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nThe Smell of the Cows<\/h3>\n\n\n\n Figure 31: Cows in the street in Kagbeni <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Cows in the morning<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nThroughout\nmy time in Kagbeni, I heard over and over about people who had left the town and\ncame back years later, or who now live elsewhere and visit as often as\npossible. I was surprised by the number of visitors I met in the month I was living\nthere, and how positively they reminisced about returning home. When I asked\npeople if they would want to return and live in Kagbeni instead of only\nvisiting, they said things like \u201cthat would be nice\u201d or \u201coh yes, I wish,\u201d but\nin a way that told me they never would. I became curious about why many people return\nto visit, but so few come back for good.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis question could be answered in part by looking at the factors limiting opportunities in Mustang, which is one of the main reasons people leave. Not surprisingly, the restriction of the region from the 1960s onwards played a large role in Mustang\u2019s ability to grow and change over time. Manjushree Thapa explains this dynamic:<\/p>\n\n\n\nRestriction had not kept Upper Mustang beyond the reach of the modern world. Rather, it had forced people out. No new sources of income had entered the area, nor had traditional occupations found means to grow. The history-book pattern \u2014 of farming in the spring, animal husbandry in the summer, and trading in the winter \u2014 had remained the same for centuries; it had stagnated (Thapa 2008: 80).<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis restriction was\naccentuated by Chinese policies to the North as well. Following 1959 and the\ninvasion of Tibet, \u201cChinese authorities had clamped down on the practice of\ngrazing of Nepali animals on Tibetan grassland\u201d (Thapa 2008: 51). This means\nthat there was less dung that could be used for fuel, less animal meat, and\nless revenue. Migratory grazing was no longer an option in the way it once was.\nThis policy of restriction is promoted as something that protects the culture\nand keeps the area as a living museum, but has evidently harmed Mustang greatly\nafter decades of not providing support to the region. Without opportunities beyond\nagriculture and tourism, people who have the means to leave do, and only some return.<\/p>\n\n\n\nIt\nquickly became clear to me upon arriving in Mustang that the locals are heavily\nimpacted by the land. We have already seen this to some extent in the way that\nbuildings are made, and the relationships between religion and landscape. This\narea north of the Himalayas is classified as high-altitude desert, with\nlow-lying trees sparsely spread along the gorge. The endangered blue sheep roam\nthe hillsides above 3500 meters, and Himalayan vultures occasionally fly\noverhead. Wind and water have shaped the Kali Gandaki gorge (which was once on\nthe bottom of the ocean floor), but they have also shaped the people who live\nwithin its walls. <\/p>\n\n\n\nTowards the end of my stay in Kagbeni, I had the opportunity to meet three siblings who are originally from the town but now live in New York City. They were a few years older than me. The sister had moved to the United States for school, and was working on a master\u2019s degree. When I met the siblings, they were visiting their mother and grandmother, and said that they would be in Mustang for two months before returning to the USA. They missed this place, they told me, and needed to get a break from the hectic lifestyle of the city. I began to tell them about my project, explaining that the idea started because I was curious about the relationship with people and place. The sister nodded and said \u201cthe people here, they really respect the land, you know? Not like in New York.\u201d It is clear that, in Kagbeni, much more attention is given to what comes from the land, and how people interact with the land on a daily basis. In New York City, the sister argued, this connection, this respect, was lost. This sentiment was communicated to me by other people I met, like Kunga, who took such pride in the fresh food of Kagbeni, and it made the cultural use of the land another site of differentiation for the people who spoke about Mustang. Just as with the political and geographic boundaries placed on Upper Mustang, statements like the sister\u2019s once again distance Mustang from other places, this time focusing on the people rather than the land. This is done by both outsiders as well as locals. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAnother friend \u2013 Mama \u2013 told me a similar story about another Loba who lived in New York for many years before returning to Kagbeni: \u201che just gave up everything and moved back here to Kagbeni… he just loved this place, man. The smell of the cows.\u201d As someone who lives in Kathmandu but returns to his home in Tiri (across the river from Kagbeni) a few times a year, Mama showed a sense of disbelief at the man in his story. He too had moved away, made a new life and started a family in the city. One of his brothers was living in New York, studying to be a photographer. And yet, they were both pulled back to Kagbeni and Tiri, just like the three siblings earlier. Mama may have laughed about the smells of the livestock, but even he admitted that he would like to visit more than he does. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the monastery, the monks provide another example of a lasting commitment to the Kagbeni community. The khenpo<\/em>, who also happens to be Mama\u2019s brother, was originally from Tiri and came back to head the monastery after receiving a higher level of monastic education in India. In addition, one of the younger monks, Dorje, was saw his role at the monastery as a service to his community. In his 20s, Dorje left Tiri for a few years to go to school and live in Kathmandu, but has since returned in order to give back to Kagbeni as the middle son of his family. Dorje explained that it is common for people from the surrounding towns to serve at the monastery for a few years, without the expectation that they would remain a monk. In his case, Dorje spent one year at the monastery before returning to Kathmandu for a year, and is now finishing his time at Kag Chode in a two-year segment. He prefers living in Kathmandu, like many other men around his age that I talked to, but also recognizes that it is nice to be out of the city and back where his family is from. When asked if he would continue to be a monk when his three years of service were over, Dorje admitted that he had not yet decided. <\/p>\n\n\n\nOne of my older\nstudents showed this commitment in a different way. In order to be ordained at\na higher level, monks in the Sakya sect must receive further schooling in\nIndia. Of the 64 students at Kag Chode, it is likely that only a few will\nfollow this path. As they get older, students often decide to disrobe and\nreenter lay society. Since the school provides both a monastic and secular\neducation, many families send their children there for the free education and\nhousing, knowing that their children will be able to succeed with the education\nwhether or not they remain as monks. When I talked to one student about his\nplans following his graduation, he told me that he wants to be ordained at a\nhigher level, which means going to India. After receiving this further\neducation, his goal is to return to Mustang and help run the gompa<\/em> and teach younger students. <\/p>\n\n\n\nPeople\nleave Mustang for school, better jobs, seasonal work, or other opportunities.\nThey come back for different seasonal work, festivals, or to visit family. Because\nthe winters are harsh in Mustang, many people leave for the season. While a few\nolder community members and children stay behind to keep the town running in\nthe coldest months, the majority of people find work or live elsewhere. The\nentire monastic school, for instance, picks up and moves to Pokhara for a few\nmonths. This seasonal migration is by no means a new phenomenon, and shows that\neven when Mustang was restricted to foreigners, people have always come and\ngone with some frequency. Their claim of being Loba, however, remains with\nthem. People living in Kathmandu identify where they are from or what their\nethnic background is when they talk about their life in the city, and they also\nlabel others in this way. For example, one trekking guide mentioned that he has\n\u201ca lot of Manangi friends.\u201d Manang is the region to the east of Mustang, and\neven if his friends live predominantly in Kathmandu, the guide still identifies\nthem as being from Manang. In the same way, people often refer to a place as\n\u201cmy village,\u201d even when they have lived in Kathmandu for most of their lives.\nAlong the same lines, people who live in Kathmandu almost never say that they\nare form Kathmandu. <\/p>\n\n\n\nClaiming\nthe identity of the village or region your family is from is common throughout\nNepal, and is in many ways related to the caste system and Hinduization in the\nPanchayat era. This is also in part due to the wide diversity of ethnic groups\nand languages in Nepal, and the original formation of the country in the 18th<\/sup>\ncentury as a unified kingdom made up of many smaller, previously distinct\ngroups. While people in Mustang are definitively Nepali, they have a deep\nconnection to their homeland. As with the gompa<\/em>\ndonor now living in Hong Kong, many people want to maintain a connection to the\nregion and support it when they can. In Mustang\nBhot in Fragments<\/em>, Manjushree Thapa tells the story of one man who lived in\nKathmandu many years before returning to Mustang, hoping to improve the area after\ngrowing accustomed to the ways of the city. When asked why he wanted to come\nback and work on developing the area, he responded \u201cthis is home. If we don\u2019t\nimprove it, who will?\u201d (Thapa 2008: 50). This statement not only shows the deep\nconnection that Loba have to their communities, it also implies that other\npeople cannot be counted on to improve life there. After a history of being let\ndown by the Nepali government and other development projects, it makes sense\nthat the community would take it into their own hands to build the road north\nto Tibet, to spur the possibility of more opportunities.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nTeam Tashi Delek<\/em><\/h3>\n\n\n\nUp until this point, there have been occasional points of friction between Nepali and Tibetan and Loba identities. In ethnicity, religion, culture, and language, people of Mustang appear to be closer to Tibet than Nepal. This perception is held by most Nepali citizens, both from Mustang and from elsewhere. At the same time, these borderland communities are still Nepali, learning the official language and singing the national anthem each day in school. One day in class at Kag Chode, I was working with the students to practice grouping words that use the same vowel sounds. I created teams, splitting the class in half, and asked what they wanted their team names to be. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Tashi Delek<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Namaste<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe students broke into laughter, pleased with the names they had chosen. <\/p>\n\n\n\nI bring up this moment with the students (this class was ages 10 through 12) because it points to a divide in how Loba people perceive themselves in relation to Nepal. Tashi<\/em> delek<\/em> and namaste<\/em> are Tibetan and Nepali words respectively, and are both used as greetings. The local language in Mustang is Loke, which is closely related to Tibetan. As a result, tashi delek<\/em> is almost always what you hear being tossed around as you walk through the streets. Namaste <\/em>is reserved for foreigners and other Nepalis. While children are taught both Nepali and English in school (in addition to Tibetan language at monastic schools), people primarily still speak in Loke in Kagbeni, rarely switching into Nepali or English unless there is another person around who speaks one of those languages. English, Nepali, and Tibetan music mingle in the streets of Kagbeni, as people play music to accompany the harvest, household chores, or evening downtime. Each language carries a different cadence, mediating spoken interactions between locals and others passing through.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis divide is in part due to the Nepali government\u2019s history of aid (or lack of it) in Mustang, but is also deeply rooted in the cultural identity of Mustang. The heart of this issue comes from the distance that is felt between what it means to be Nepali and what it means to be Tibetan, and finding a place somewhere in between. While giving myself and a Nepali business group from Kathmandu a tour of Kagbeni, Mama explained <\/p>\n\n\n\nUpper Mustang, Lower Mustang, we want to be called Tibetan, but we are not Tibetan. Tibetans are migratory people you know? But because I was born here I can say that I\u2019m Tibetan. Historically we wandered around place to place with the yaks looking for grass.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis points to the\ndivide between how Loba people see themselves and how other Tibetan and Nepali\ngroups see them. My friend explained that even though he is not \u2018Tibetan,\u2019 he\nstill identifies as being Tibetan, and does so proudly. Similar sentiments were\nexpressed to me by other people in Kagbeni. Throughout Kagbeni, and Upper\nMustang to the north, people align themselves more closely with Tibetan culture\nthan Nepali, while still maintaining their Nepali identity as well. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe royal family of Mustang provides a good example of the complicated relationship between Nepali and Tibetan identities. The family is said to be descended from Tibetan kings, yet today holds the surname Bista. This once again traces to the Rana regime and the following Panchayat era, in which \u201cof necessity, the [Loba] colonized themselves\u201d (Thapa 2008: 124). The name Bista comes from high-caste Hindu families originally, and was thus appropriated in order to increase the family\u2019s authority and recognition in the eyes of the Nepali government (Thapa 2008). Other Loba took on surnames in a similar way, often appropriating names of ethnic groups to the south of Mustang. While the Bistas are no longer recognized by the Nepali government today, they still hold social power in the region. One trekking guide who was originally from Lo Manthang told me that part of the reason the local people still respect and listen to the royal family is because \u201cit is past karma,\u201d so the people of Mustang just know to follow them. Whatever the reason, it became clear to me that the Loba put more trust and respect in the royal family of Mustang than the Nepali government.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBeyond language, there are other clear physical markers which point to the Loba being more in line with Tibetan culture. The clothing, buildings, and even the landscape of Upper Mustang all mirror that which is found in Tibet. While my friends from other regions of Nepal frequently spoke of wanting to travel to other regions of the country, the Loba I know in Kagbeni only ever spoke of wishing to visit Tibet. This is not purely for religious reasons, though going to pilgrimage sites such as Manasarovar lake certainly contributes to this desire. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThis closeness to Tibetan culture was further emphasized after 1959, when Mustang became a one of many settlement areas for Tibetan refugees \u201cdue to its close proximity to Tibetan territory, strong kinship and monastic relations with Tibetan populations and social\u2013physical landscape congruent to the Tibetan Plateau\u201d (Murton 2017: 538). Here, it is clear that the association between Mustang and Tibet goes past simply proximity or culture. In popular discourse, however, Mustang is still essentialized as being as close as you can get to \u201cauthentic\u201d Tibetan culture as it was before 1959. This perception is damaging for many reasons, and will be explored more in relation to tourism.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nReshaping Mustang<\/h3>\n\n\n\nMustang, Nepal has been\nshaped both internally and externally by religion and its relationship to\npolitics and culture. Buddhist and Bon structures have physically reshaped the\nlandscape, linking to mythology that maps onto it. These recreations of the\nland go back hundreds of years, to when Guru Rinpoche first came through the\nKali Gandaki in the 8th<\/sup> century. Bon influences on the land go back\neven further. The mingling of Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism has taken on ulterior\nmotives in the last century, however. Due to the governmental policies and lack\nof infrastructure in the region, Loba were pushed to either assimilate and\nbecome more recognizably \u201cNepali\u201d (meaning more Hindu), or leave for better\nopportunities elsewhere. The relationship with Tibet to the north was largely\nhalted as well, with only a trade fair in the summer remaining.<\/p>\n\n\n\nTurning\ntowards the tourism industry, the region is frequently characterized as a\nstronghold of Tibetan culture and religion, preserved by the restriction of the\nregion. Government policies, tourism agencies, and even museums point to\nMustang as being a special place in Nepal because of the presence of Tibetan\nBuddhism and Bon in its valleys. Kagbeni, on the border between Upper and Lower\nMustang, shows us that this popular essentialization of Loba people as purely\nreligious in many ways misinterprets the role of religion in daily life. Yes,\nsignals of Buddhism and Bon and Hinduism abound in the small town, and some\npeople do sit outside in the sun with prayer wheels spinning in their hands,\nbut this misses the complexity of the Kagbeni reality. Lives in Kagbeni are complicated and reshaped\nconstantly by the government, religions, and tourists intersecting within its\nspace. In the following chapter, I turn to look more closely at the impacts of\ntourism in and scholarship about Kagbeni and Upper Mustang.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTourism: Exceptionalism, Pilgrimage, and Romance<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Culture, Landscapes, and Identity Religious LandscapesThe Smell of the CowsTeam Tashi DelekReshaping Mustang Towards the end of my time in Kagbeni, I walked into the lounge area of the hotel I was living at to find Aama laying on one of the benches, reading quietly aloud to herself. Aama is the matriarch of the hotel, … Continue reading Religion<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3090,"featured_media":145,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-8","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3090"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8"}],"version-history":[{"count":18,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":368,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions\/368"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/145"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
In its written form, the mantra appears in Tibetan characters. The spoken phrase, however, remains in its original Sanskrit. While many other mantras and texts are translated into Tibetan from Sanskrit, Om mani padme hum<\/em> remains. The khenpo<\/em> at Kagbeni\u2019s gompa<\/em> explained that this is because the sounds of the mantra are the most important, and that the phrase sounds strange when spoken in Tibetan. The chanting of the mantra becomes important \u201cnot by what it describes or cognitively reveals but by the complex vibration or feeling tone it creates in the practicing person\u201d (Coward and Goa 2004: 6). Thus, there is more power in the sounds of the spoken Sanskrit words than in their Tibetan equivalent. Om mani padme hum<\/em> stands out from other mantras and texts in this way, as Sanskrit is otherwise only spoken in formal circumstances such as in a recitation performance at the consecration of a new monastery building. In the case of the upcoming Kag Chode Monastic School consecration, for example, a piece in Sanskrit was to be performed by a student in order to pay homage to the original roots of Buddhism in India.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThe importance placed on sound is not unique to Kagbeni or to Tibetan Buddhism, but the way that it manifests in Kagbeni is linked to a wider cultural and religious landscape. In Tibetan Buddhism, \u201ccertain categories of Buddhist sacra are ascribed the power to liberate through sensory contact\u201d (Gayley 2007: 459). This means that there is a range of benefits in sensory contact with mantras, even including the claim that liberation is possible through seeing, hearing, tasting, wearing, or otherwise encountering certain texts, objects, and structures (Gayley 2007: 460). The impacts of this can be seen across the landscape of Upper Mustang, where the world is reshaped through interactions with mantras and the divine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n Figure 18: Prayer wheels on the northern side of Kagbeni <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\nFigure 19: Mantra written into stones on mani<\/em> wall<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nFigure 20: Om mani padme hum<\/em> carved on a rock wall on the road to Lupra <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nBetween bites of thukpa <\/em>later that evening, Kunga explained to me that when people in Kagbeni reach 60 years old, they become much more religious. Aama, his mother, is 61, and has thus reached this point in her life. He explained that she is reading religious texts, trying to learn more about Buddhist teachings now that she is getting older. I asked Kunga if he thought he would become more religious when he reached Aama\u2019s age. <\/p>\n\n\n\nHe chuckled in response. \u201cIf I\u2019m still alive.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\nDespite Kunga\u2019s distancing of himself with this comment, it is impossible to remove the impact of religion on his life. The sounds of Tibetan mantras, for example, were not a new feature in the household. In fact, I had been hearing recordings and videos of monks performing ceremonies since my first day in Kagbeni. In the afternoons, it was not uncommon for a group to form around a smartphone in the kitchen, playing a video of a puja on YouTube. Other times, I would hear videos of mantras-turned-songs being played during breakfast, always on someone\u2019s phone. Once, a group of women from around the town gathered to perform a household ceremony in the prayer room upstairs, chanting mantras late into the evening [sound clip of household ceremony]. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Household ceremony<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nFigure 21: Prayer room at hotel<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n And that is only within the walls of his hotel. Stepping outside, the entire landscape becomes transformed as prayer flags flap in the wind, as the voices of the monks performing their daily puja<\/em> in the gompa<\/em> are projected from loudspeakers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Puja<\/em> projected through loudspeakers at Kag Chode<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nThroughout my time in Kagbeni, Kunga routinely distanced himself from his own religiosity and connection to Loba culture when we talked. This could have been in part because I was only visiting, was there for research, and hadn\u2019t known him for long. The presence of religion or tradition in Kunga\u2019s life was always described in relation to others\u2019, such as when he informed me that people in Kagbeni, or in Lower Mustang, care much less about tradition than in Upper Mustang. He did not deny his beliefs, but always pointed to other people who he believed held more. <\/p>\n\n\n\nEven with this distancing, his life was not entirely absent of these things. It was often his phone which played the videos of pujas<\/em> in the kitchen, and he occasionally went to dance practices in preparation for a ceremony which would occur the following month. The pillars of his hotel are all marked with butter and herbs placed there by the monks, and a Bon guardian presides over the front entrance to the building. Buddhist ch\u00f6rtens<\/em> and their Bon counterparts are both found on the roof. One morning, I walked downstairs to find one of the older monks in the kitchen talking to the staff. Along with some of the other local hotel owners, Kunga occasionally went to the gompa<\/em> in order to meet with the khenpo<\/em> in preparation for the upcoming consecration ceremony.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n Figure 22: Butter and herbs placed on a pillar in a hotel <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\n Figure 23: Bon guardian over main entrance of a hotel <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n Figure 24: Three ch\u00f6rten<\/em> on a hotel rooftop with Nilgiri Mountain in the distance <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nThis distancing from religion is not unique\nto Kunga, who is now in his early 40s. The people who visit the gompa<\/em> most frequently are women Aama\u2019s\nage or older, often at the same time every day. Looking at the people who live\nin Kagbeni, there is a clear divide in the generations. Women above the age of\n40 most often wear the traditional Loba clothing, while younger women rarely\ndo. This shifts as you move northward up the Kali Gandaki closer to the capital\nof Lo, where more people wear the traditional Loba clothing. As Kunga\nexplained, this is because Upper and Lower\nMustang are very different, and that people like him down at the border between\nthe two in Kagbeni don\u2019t care as much about the traditional things. <\/p>\n\n\n\nKunga\u2019s comment about people becoming \u201cmore religious\u201d as they age points to a divide in how people think about religion. If religion is expected to be primarily text-based, then he is right that Aama is becoming more religious as she begins to read more Tibetan Buddhist teachings. This understanding of religion leaves out the impact that it has on every-day life. For lay people living in Kagbeni, the actual texts are not important. At the same time, students at the monastic school have classes on the dharma<\/em>, the teaching of the Buddha, and there is a ceremony that involves carrying the physical books of the Buddha\u2019s teachings around the boundaries of the town. In other words, the texts are not unimportant or irrelevant to the presence of religions in Kagbeni, but they are not the focus of lived religion there. Sound arguably becomes more important than the texts in this setting, as it reshapes the landscape and is used by monks and lay people alike. Whether or not lay people know the reason for the power in speaking certain words like om mani padme hum<\/em>, the phrase is a piece of daily interaction with the divine.<\/p>\n\n\n\nKagbeni lives at an interesting set of crossroads. There is the physical crossroads built by the government, bringing traders and trekkers north to Lo and pilgrims east to Muktinath. There is the cultural divide expressed by Kunga, separating Upper and Lower Mustang. This divide is not only about commitment to tradition, it also implicates the conflicting Nepali, Tibetan, and Loba identities. At the borders between these categories, people in Kagbeni are reshaped by the shifting factors every day. <\/p>\n\n\n\nReligious Landscapes<\/h3>\n\n\n\nThe primary religious influences found in Kagbeni are Tibetan Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism. All three mingle and overlap, sharing sites, beliefs, and practitioners. In all three, the landscape is an essential feature. Landmarks like mountains are said to be the homes of gods, and the convergences of rivers are sacred spaces. These religious landmarks in turn map onto real physical locations, allowing spiritual authority over key sacred sites to be translated into political power (Ramble 1995: 93). Upper Mustang presents a good example of this relationships between sacred and political space, as Lo Manthang is also the seat of a principal territorial deity in local cosmologies, and the surrounding areas are home to lesser gods (Ramble 1995: 91). The seat of political power in the region is also the seat of religious power. This dynamic of mapping religion onto the landscape is not unique to Kagbeni nor to the religions present there, yet it remains an important aspect of the Tibetan Buddhist and Bon ontologies. In addition to the daily practices of spinning prayer wheels or attending to the household gods, this shows us that the entire landscape of Mustang is covered in and changed by interactions with religion.<\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the river\nconvergence south of the gompa<\/em>, a\nsmall park of sorts holds both Hindu and Buddhist shrines. Hindu pilgrims and\nnovice monks from the monastic school wash themselves in the water as the smoke\nfrom incense flows over them. The prayer wall in the gompa<\/em> complex stretches down the bank, right to where the two\nrivers meet. Prayer flags are wrapped in tree branches and hang from the\nbridge. This site \u2013 right next to the main road through town \u2013 claims the\nattention of passers-by. It\u2019s colorful, loud, and often bustling with activity.\nBells are rung by pilgrims passing through, mingling with the beeping horns of\njeeps and the Bollywood music spilling from the windows of buses. Along with\nthe ch\u00f6rtens<\/em> in the streets and the\nmonastic school up the road, it is what most people passing through would point\nto as markers of \nKagbeni\u2019s religious nature. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n Figure 25: Incense burning at the convergence of the rivers <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\n Figure 26: Prayer flags lining a bridge over the Kali Gandaki <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nAn emphasis on\nphysical, visual, markings on the landscape negates the way the landscape of\nMustang has been shaped for centuries by various mythologies and sonic\nvibrations that claim space. In the Tibetan\nBuddhist ontology, \u201cTibetan architecture, landscape, and religious\nbeliefs are woven together, forming a sacred realm. The theme of the mandala is\npresent everywhere one goes; as a spiritual vehicle and a general model\u201d\n(Xu 2010: 182). The ch\u00f6rten<\/em> is one\nstructure which weaves together these themes into the form of a mandala. As Xu\nexplains, the physical structure of a ch\u00f6rten<\/em>\nis a three-dimensional representation of a mandala, a model of the universe.\nThese structures are sprinkled across the landscape of Mustang, and throughout\nKagbeni. Varying in size and style, they are reminders of the nature of the\nuniverse, and \u201cof the spiritual realm in which Mustang is embedded\u201d (Bubriski\net al. 2018: 19). Similarly, the music used in pujas creates a mandala through\nthe way sound is created (Ellingson 1979).<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\nFigure 27: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> with paintings inside in the middle of a Kagbeni street <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\n Figure 28: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> and communal washing area in a Kagbeni street <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n Figure 29: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> at the end of a prayer wall on the peninsula between the two rivers <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nBecause of this\nemphasis on the land as being a home to deities and itself a mandala, Tibetan\nBuddhist teachings often emphasize the proper use of land in order to prevent\npollution, especially of water resources. For example, by describing how a\ntoilet should be built to promote a healthy environment, or promoting the\nplanting of trees to prevent deforestation (Vigoda 1989: 26). While water is\ngenerally sacred, or purifying, in the Tibetan landscape it takes on the\nadditional context of being scarce, and thus even more important for sustaining\nlife. <\/p>\n\n\n\nOne practice\nfrequently associated with Mustang is Sky Burial. This death ritual is often\ndescribed in documentaries and tourism materials as something that keeps\nMustang linked to the past. Vigoda explains that this is yet another example of\na religious practice reacting to the conditions of the environment. She says:<\/p>\n\n\n\n[Sky Burial] is carried out at the tops of hills and mountains, where bodies are chopped up and fed to the birds\u2026 [it] is indicative of how the lack of natural resources, and the Buddhist idea of the interdependence of all things, are manifested in a religious custom (Vigoda 1989: 29). <\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nIn recent years, however, the practice has\ndied out almost completely. There are a few reasons for this. First, Himalayan\nVultures are now an endangered species. These giant birds who once played a\nlarge role in disposing of corpses were impacted by the use of DDT in India,\nand have thus decreased in population considerably. I noticed a distinct lack\nof vultures on my second visit to Mustang in 2018, whereas my group had\ngleefully spotted a few of the birds two years before. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe second reason for\nthe deemphasis on Sky Burials is linked to global trends of modernization.\nTraditional practices, especially around death, are often looked down on or\nseen as backward by more powerful, \u2018modern\u2019 or \u2018developed\u2019 countries. Even\nthough Mustang is remote and difficult to navigate, it has been linked to trade\nnetworks for hundreds of years. Many of the wealthier families in Mustang have\nhouses in Kathmandu as well, and often travel outside the region. Seasonal jobs\nbring people to India and Tibet for trade or construction work, and children\nare often sent to school in Pokhara or Kathmandu. As a result, there are many\nways that the communities of Mustang are shaped by global trends, even without\ntaking the impact of tourism into consideration. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the same time, the\nimagination of Mustang as a stronghold of Tibetan culture is one of the main\ndraws for tourism in the region, and there are many groups which are trying to\npreserve the culture of the region. The perception that Mustang\u2019s culture and\nlanguage is unique and under attack by globalization and modernization is\nprevalent among NGOs internal and external to Nepal. While there are some\ngroups like the American Himalayan Foundation that strive towards cultural\npreservation, Sky Burials are not the focus of preservation initiatives. On the\nother hand, the few Sky Burials that do still happen today have become a draw\nfor tourists who want to see a different culture in action; preservation for\nthe sake of tourism has a different sort of friction. <\/p>\n\n\n\nWhile the Buddha\u2019s\nteachings make an impact on practitioners\u2019 relationship to the land, so does\nthe presence of the other deities in the Tibetan Buddhist and Bon cosmologies.\nThese deities inhabit the sky, atmosphere, and earth, and can be both\nbenevolent and wrathful (25). The domains of these deities recognized in\nTibetan Buddhism and Bon map onto the physical landscape of Mustang, and are\nmirrored by the structures built. In Mustang, the emphasis is placed most\nheavily on the mythology of Guru Padmasambhava, or Guru Rinpoche. In fact, the\nfigure of Guru Rinpoche is more important than that of the Buddha, and it is\nhis likeness that sits at the altar of some monasteries. <\/p>\n\n\n\nMuktinath, the\npilgrimage site to the east of Kagbeni, is one site where Guru Padmasambhava is\nsaid to have stopped, thus making it an important Buddhist site in addition to its\nimportance for Hindu pilgrims. A few days\u2019 walk north, outside of Gami village,\nthe longest mani<\/em> wall in Nepal sprawls\nacross a plateau, marking the site of a battle between Guru Padmasambhava and a\ndemoness. The canyon walls are blue and red with her blood, and a ch\u00f6rten<\/em> built in the 8th<\/sup>\ncentury safeguards her heart, cut out by Guru Padmasambhava. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Figure 30: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> north of Gami, where the demoness\u2019 heart is kept <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nIn addition to shaping the physical environment with ch\u00f6rtens<\/em>, monasteries, sound, and prayer flags, much of Tibetan Buddhism focuses on turning inwards. In the harsh landscape of high-altitude desert, methods of self-realization are emphasized in order to have a chance of escaping samsara<\/em>, the cycle of rebirth, in a future life (Gualtieri 1983: 170-1). As discussed above, this often involves sensory contact with mantras, whether it be chanting them or carving or painting them on rock walls. Peter Crossley-Holland explains another aspect of the mantra\u2019s significance. According to him, \u201ca mantra is a symbol for the divine being it is said to embody, but it is also believed to be more than that: it is believed to be an actual emanation from that being, and so an aspect of it\u201d (Crossley-Holland 1976: 50). Following this logic, sensory interaction with a mantra is interaction with the divine. Similarly, the mantras written all over the landscape help to cloak it in the presence of the divine.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis ability of the mantra to reshape the landscape is exemplified further in the prayer flags hung from high surfaces all across Tibetan Buddhist communities. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Prayer flags in the wind<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nFigure 31: Prayer flags flapping in the wind <\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\nMy friend Sherab explained to me that the Buddhist prayer flags are hung in the windiest places, because every time they flap they send the mantra written on them out into the world. As discussed earlier, mantras have the ability to reshape people and places through sensory contact. Imagine a line of flags, whipping back and forth. With each movement, waves of vibrations are carried across the landscape, spreading the mantra written on their threads as far as the wind will carry it. These waves of vibrations create sounds, too [sound clip of flags in the wind]. In his study of voice, place, and identity in Kenya, Andrew Eisenberg writes about the territoriality of sound, the ways that sounds can create social space based on how far they travel and who interacts with them. He argues that \u201csonic practices territorialize by virtue of combining physical vibration with bodily sensation and culturally conditioned meanings\u201d (2015: 199). As the prayer flags send out their vibrations in the wind, they shape the landscape around them into a sacred space, from which liberation becomes more accessible. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe\nphysical vibrations emanating from flags reminds us how religious icons and\ntexts have the ability to transform \u201cthe ordinary, coarse world into an\nextraordinary realm of spiritual wisdom and compassion\u201d (Farkas 2009: 30). From the way mandalas are created in buildings\nto represent the universe, to the dying practice of Sky Burials, to the sounds\nof prayer flags in the wind, we see how \u201cterritorial and spatial\ndimensions are intrinsically linked to the practice of\nreligion\u201d (Terrone 2014: 463).This\nis not religion that adheres primarily to specific doctrines, but is rather a\nform of religion incorporated into daily life through smaller practices and\nreflections of the landscape.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nThe Smell of the Cows<\/h3>\n\n\n\n Figure 31: Cows in the street in Kagbeni <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Cows in the morning<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nThroughout\nmy time in Kagbeni, I heard over and over about people who had left the town and\ncame back years later, or who now live elsewhere and visit as often as\npossible. I was surprised by the number of visitors I met in the month I was living\nthere, and how positively they reminisced about returning home. When I asked\npeople if they would want to return and live in Kagbeni instead of only\nvisiting, they said things like \u201cthat would be nice\u201d or \u201coh yes, I wish,\u201d but\nin a way that told me they never would. I became curious about why many people return\nto visit, but so few come back for good.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis question could be answered in part by looking at the factors limiting opportunities in Mustang, which is one of the main reasons people leave. Not surprisingly, the restriction of the region from the 1960s onwards played a large role in Mustang\u2019s ability to grow and change over time. Manjushree Thapa explains this dynamic:<\/p>\n\n\n\nRestriction had not kept Upper Mustang beyond the reach of the modern world. Rather, it had forced people out. No new sources of income had entered the area, nor had traditional occupations found means to grow. The history-book pattern \u2014 of farming in the spring, animal husbandry in the summer, and trading in the winter \u2014 had remained the same for centuries; it had stagnated (Thapa 2008: 80).<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis restriction was\naccentuated by Chinese policies to the North as well. Following 1959 and the\ninvasion of Tibet, \u201cChinese authorities had clamped down on the practice of\ngrazing of Nepali animals on Tibetan grassland\u201d (Thapa 2008: 51). This means\nthat there was less dung that could be used for fuel, less animal meat, and\nless revenue. Migratory grazing was no longer an option in the way it once was.\nThis policy of restriction is promoted as something that protects the culture\nand keeps the area as a living museum, but has evidently harmed Mustang greatly\nafter decades of not providing support to the region. Without opportunities beyond\nagriculture and tourism, people who have the means to leave do, and only some return.<\/p>\n\n\n\nIt\nquickly became clear to me upon arriving in Mustang that the locals are heavily\nimpacted by the land. We have already seen this to some extent in the way that\nbuildings are made, and the relationships between religion and landscape. This\narea north of the Himalayas is classified as high-altitude desert, with\nlow-lying trees sparsely spread along the gorge. The endangered blue sheep roam\nthe hillsides above 3500 meters, and Himalayan vultures occasionally fly\noverhead. Wind and water have shaped the Kali Gandaki gorge (which was once on\nthe bottom of the ocean floor), but they have also shaped the people who live\nwithin its walls. <\/p>\n\n\n\nTowards the end of my stay in Kagbeni, I had the opportunity to meet three siblings who are originally from the town but now live in New York City. They were a few years older than me. The sister had moved to the United States for school, and was working on a master\u2019s degree. When I met the siblings, they were visiting their mother and grandmother, and said that they would be in Mustang for two months before returning to the USA. They missed this place, they told me, and needed to get a break from the hectic lifestyle of the city. I began to tell them about my project, explaining that the idea started because I was curious about the relationship with people and place. The sister nodded and said \u201cthe people here, they really respect the land, you know? Not like in New York.\u201d It is clear that, in Kagbeni, much more attention is given to what comes from the land, and how people interact with the land on a daily basis. In New York City, the sister argued, this connection, this respect, was lost. This sentiment was communicated to me by other people I met, like Kunga, who took such pride in the fresh food of Kagbeni, and it made the cultural use of the land another site of differentiation for the people who spoke about Mustang. Just as with the political and geographic boundaries placed on Upper Mustang, statements like the sister\u2019s once again distance Mustang from other places, this time focusing on the people rather than the land. This is done by both outsiders as well as locals. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAnother friend \u2013 Mama \u2013 told me a similar story about another Loba who lived in New York for many years before returning to Kagbeni: \u201che just gave up everything and moved back here to Kagbeni… he just loved this place, man. The smell of the cows.\u201d As someone who lives in Kathmandu but returns to his home in Tiri (across the river from Kagbeni) a few times a year, Mama showed a sense of disbelief at the man in his story. He too had moved away, made a new life and started a family in the city. One of his brothers was living in New York, studying to be a photographer. And yet, they were both pulled back to Kagbeni and Tiri, just like the three siblings earlier. Mama may have laughed about the smells of the livestock, but even he admitted that he would like to visit more than he does. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the monastery, the monks provide another example of a lasting commitment to the Kagbeni community. The khenpo<\/em>, who also happens to be Mama\u2019s brother, was originally from Tiri and came back to head the monastery after receiving a higher level of monastic education in India. In addition, one of the younger monks, Dorje, was saw his role at the monastery as a service to his community. In his 20s, Dorje left Tiri for a few years to go to school and live in Kathmandu, but has since returned in order to give back to Kagbeni as the middle son of his family. Dorje explained that it is common for people from the surrounding towns to serve at the monastery for a few years, without the expectation that they would remain a monk. In his case, Dorje spent one year at the monastery before returning to Kathmandu for a year, and is now finishing his time at Kag Chode in a two-year segment. He prefers living in Kathmandu, like many other men around his age that I talked to, but also recognizes that it is nice to be out of the city and back where his family is from. When asked if he would continue to be a monk when his three years of service were over, Dorje admitted that he had not yet decided. <\/p>\n\n\n\nOne of my older\nstudents showed this commitment in a different way. In order to be ordained at\na higher level, monks in the Sakya sect must receive further schooling in\nIndia. Of the 64 students at Kag Chode, it is likely that only a few will\nfollow this path. As they get older, students often decide to disrobe and\nreenter lay society. Since the school provides both a monastic and secular\neducation, many families send their children there for the free education and\nhousing, knowing that their children will be able to succeed with the education\nwhether or not they remain as monks. When I talked to one student about his\nplans following his graduation, he told me that he wants to be ordained at a\nhigher level, which means going to India. After receiving this further\neducation, his goal is to return to Mustang and help run the gompa<\/em> and teach younger students. <\/p>\n\n\n\nPeople\nleave Mustang for school, better jobs, seasonal work, or other opportunities.\nThey come back for different seasonal work, festivals, or to visit family. Because\nthe winters are harsh in Mustang, many people leave for the season. While a few\nolder community members and children stay behind to keep the town running in\nthe coldest months, the majority of people find work or live elsewhere. The\nentire monastic school, for instance, picks up and moves to Pokhara for a few\nmonths. This seasonal migration is by no means a new phenomenon, and shows that\neven when Mustang was restricted to foreigners, people have always come and\ngone with some frequency. Their claim of being Loba, however, remains with\nthem. People living in Kathmandu identify where they are from or what their\nethnic background is when they talk about their life in the city, and they also\nlabel others in this way. For example, one trekking guide mentioned that he has\n\u201ca lot of Manangi friends.\u201d Manang is the region to the east of Mustang, and\neven if his friends live predominantly in Kathmandu, the guide still identifies\nthem as being from Manang. In the same way, people often refer to a place as\n\u201cmy village,\u201d even when they have lived in Kathmandu for most of their lives.\nAlong the same lines, people who live in Kathmandu almost never say that they\nare form Kathmandu. <\/p>\n\n\n\nClaiming\nthe identity of the village or region your family is from is common throughout\nNepal, and is in many ways related to the caste system and Hinduization in the\nPanchayat era. This is also in part due to the wide diversity of ethnic groups\nand languages in Nepal, and the original formation of the country in the 18th<\/sup>\ncentury as a unified kingdom made up of many smaller, previously distinct\ngroups. While people in Mustang are definitively Nepali, they have a deep\nconnection to their homeland. As with the gompa<\/em>\ndonor now living in Hong Kong, many people want to maintain a connection to the\nregion and support it when they can. In Mustang\nBhot in Fragments<\/em>, Manjushree Thapa tells the story of one man who lived in\nKathmandu many years before returning to Mustang, hoping to improve the area after\ngrowing accustomed to the ways of the city. When asked why he wanted to come\nback and work on developing the area, he responded \u201cthis is home. If we don\u2019t\nimprove it, who will?\u201d (Thapa 2008: 50). This statement not only shows the deep\nconnection that Loba have to their communities, it also implies that other\npeople cannot be counted on to improve life there. After a history of being let\ndown by the Nepali government and other development projects, it makes sense\nthat the community would take it into their own hands to build the road north\nto Tibet, to spur the possibility of more opportunities.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nTeam Tashi Delek<\/em><\/h3>\n\n\n\nUp until this point, there have been occasional points of friction between Nepali and Tibetan and Loba identities. In ethnicity, religion, culture, and language, people of Mustang appear to be closer to Tibet than Nepal. This perception is held by most Nepali citizens, both from Mustang and from elsewhere. At the same time, these borderland communities are still Nepali, learning the official language and singing the national anthem each day in school. One day in class at Kag Chode, I was working with the students to practice grouping words that use the same vowel sounds. I created teams, splitting the class in half, and asked what they wanted their team names to be. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Tashi Delek<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Namaste<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe students broke into laughter, pleased with the names they had chosen. <\/p>\n\n\n\nI bring up this moment with the students (this class was ages 10 through 12) because it points to a divide in how Loba people perceive themselves in relation to Nepal. Tashi<\/em> delek<\/em> and namaste<\/em> are Tibetan and Nepali words respectively, and are both used as greetings. The local language in Mustang is Loke, which is closely related to Tibetan. As a result, tashi delek<\/em> is almost always what you hear being tossed around as you walk through the streets. Namaste <\/em>is reserved for foreigners and other Nepalis. While children are taught both Nepali and English in school (in addition to Tibetan language at monastic schools), people primarily still speak in Loke in Kagbeni, rarely switching into Nepali or English unless there is another person around who speaks one of those languages. English, Nepali, and Tibetan music mingle in the streets of Kagbeni, as people play music to accompany the harvest, household chores, or evening downtime. Each language carries a different cadence, mediating spoken interactions between locals and others passing through.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis divide is in part due to the Nepali government\u2019s history of aid (or lack of it) in Mustang, but is also deeply rooted in the cultural identity of Mustang. The heart of this issue comes from the distance that is felt between what it means to be Nepali and what it means to be Tibetan, and finding a place somewhere in between. While giving myself and a Nepali business group from Kathmandu a tour of Kagbeni, Mama explained <\/p>\n\n\n\nUpper Mustang, Lower Mustang, we want to be called Tibetan, but we are not Tibetan. Tibetans are migratory people you know? But because I was born here I can say that I\u2019m Tibetan. Historically we wandered around place to place with the yaks looking for grass.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis points to the\ndivide between how Loba people see themselves and how other Tibetan and Nepali\ngroups see them. My friend explained that even though he is not \u2018Tibetan,\u2019 he\nstill identifies as being Tibetan, and does so proudly. Similar sentiments were\nexpressed to me by other people in Kagbeni. Throughout Kagbeni, and Upper\nMustang to the north, people align themselves more closely with Tibetan culture\nthan Nepali, while still maintaining their Nepali identity as well. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe royal family of Mustang provides a good example of the complicated relationship between Nepali and Tibetan identities. The family is said to be descended from Tibetan kings, yet today holds the surname Bista. This once again traces to the Rana regime and the following Panchayat era, in which \u201cof necessity, the [Loba] colonized themselves\u201d (Thapa 2008: 124). The name Bista comes from high-caste Hindu families originally, and was thus appropriated in order to increase the family\u2019s authority and recognition in the eyes of the Nepali government (Thapa 2008). Other Loba took on surnames in a similar way, often appropriating names of ethnic groups to the south of Mustang. While the Bistas are no longer recognized by the Nepali government today, they still hold social power in the region. One trekking guide who was originally from Lo Manthang told me that part of the reason the local people still respect and listen to the royal family is because \u201cit is past karma,\u201d so the people of Mustang just know to follow them. Whatever the reason, it became clear to me that the Loba put more trust and respect in the royal family of Mustang than the Nepali government.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBeyond language, there are other clear physical markers which point to the Loba being more in line with Tibetan culture. The clothing, buildings, and even the landscape of Upper Mustang all mirror that which is found in Tibet. While my friends from other regions of Nepal frequently spoke of wanting to travel to other regions of the country, the Loba I know in Kagbeni only ever spoke of wishing to visit Tibet. This is not purely for religious reasons, though going to pilgrimage sites such as Manasarovar lake certainly contributes to this desire. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThis closeness to Tibetan culture was further emphasized after 1959, when Mustang became a one of many settlement areas for Tibetan refugees \u201cdue to its close proximity to Tibetan territory, strong kinship and monastic relations with Tibetan populations and social\u2013physical landscape congruent to the Tibetan Plateau\u201d (Murton 2017: 538). Here, it is clear that the association between Mustang and Tibet goes past simply proximity or culture. In popular discourse, however, Mustang is still essentialized as being as close as you can get to \u201cauthentic\u201d Tibetan culture as it was before 1959. This perception is damaging for many reasons, and will be explored more in relation to tourism.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nReshaping Mustang<\/h3>\n\n\n\nMustang, Nepal has been\nshaped both internally and externally by religion and its relationship to\npolitics and culture. Buddhist and Bon structures have physically reshaped the\nlandscape, linking to mythology that maps onto it. These recreations of the\nland go back hundreds of years, to when Guru Rinpoche first came through the\nKali Gandaki in the 8th<\/sup> century. Bon influences on the land go back\neven further. The mingling of Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism has taken on ulterior\nmotives in the last century, however. Due to the governmental policies and lack\nof infrastructure in the region, Loba were pushed to either assimilate and\nbecome more recognizably \u201cNepali\u201d (meaning more Hindu), or leave for better\nopportunities elsewhere. The relationship with Tibet to the north was largely\nhalted as well, with only a trade fair in the summer remaining.<\/p>\n\n\n\nTurning\ntowards the tourism industry, the region is frequently characterized as a\nstronghold of Tibetan culture and religion, preserved by the restriction of the\nregion. Government policies, tourism agencies, and even museums point to\nMustang as being a special place in Nepal because of the presence of Tibetan\nBuddhism and Bon in its valleys. Kagbeni, on the border between Upper and Lower\nMustang, shows us that this popular essentialization of Loba people as purely\nreligious in many ways misinterprets the role of religion in daily life. Yes,\nsignals of Buddhism and Bon and Hinduism abound in the small town, and some\npeople do sit outside in the sun with prayer wheels spinning in their hands,\nbut this misses the complexity of the Kagbeni reality. Lives in Kagbeni are complicated and reshaped\nconstantly by the government, religions, and tourists intersecting within its\nspace. In the following chapter, I turn to look more closely at the impacts of\ntourism in and scholarship about Kagbeni and Upper Mustang.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTourism: Exceptionalism, Pilgrimage, and Romance<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Culture, Landscapes, and Identity Religious LandscapesThe Smell of the CowsTeam Tashi DelekReshaping Mustang Towards the end of my time in Kagbeni, I walked into the lounge area of the hotel I was living at to find Aama laying on one of the benches, reading quietly aloud to herself. Aama is the matriarch of the hotel, … Continue reading Religion<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3090,"featured_media":145,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-8","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3090"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8"}],"version-history":[{"count":18,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":368,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions\/368"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/145"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
The importance placed on sound is not unique to Kagbeni or to Tibetan Buddhism, but the way that it manifests in Kagbeni is linked to a wider cultural and religious landscape. In Tibetan Buddhism, \u201ccertain categories of Buddhist sacra are ascribed the power to liberate through sensory contact\u201d (Gayley 2007: 459). This means that there is a range of benefits in sensory contact with mantras, even including the claim that liberation is possible through seeing, hearing, tasting, wearing, or otherwise encountering certain texts, objects, and structures (Gayley 2007: 460). The impacts of this can be seen across the landscape of Upper Mustang, where the world is reshaped through interactions with mantras and the divine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Between bites of thukpa <\/em>later that evening, Kunga explained to me that when people in Kagbeni reach 60 years old, they become much more religious. Aama, his mother, is 61, and has thus reached this point in her life. He explained that she is reading religious texts, trying to learn more about Buddhist teachings now that she is getting older. I asked Kunga if he thought he would become more religious when he reached Aama\u2019s age. <\/p>\n\n\n\nHe chuckled in response. \u201cIf I\u2019m still alive.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\nDespite Kunga\u2019s distancing of himself with this comment, it is impossible to remove the impact of religion on his life. The sounds of Tibetan mantras, for example, were not a new feature in the household. In fact, I had been hearing recordings and videos of monks performing ceremonies since my first day in Kagbeni. In the afternoons, it was not uncommon for a group to form around a smartphone in the kitchen, playing a video of a puja on YouTube. Other times, I would hear videos of mantras-turned-songs being played during breakfast, always on someone\u2019s phone. Once, a group of women from around the town gathered to perform a household ceremony in the prayer room upstairs, chanting mantras late into the evening [sound clip of household ceremony]. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Household ceremony<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nFigure 21: Prayer room at hotel<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n And that is only within the walls of his hotel. Stepping outside, the entire landscape becomes transformed as prayer flags flap in the wind, as the voices of the monks performing their daily puja<\/em> in the gompa<\/em> are projected from loudspeakers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Puja<\/em> projected through loudspeakers at Kag Chode<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nThroughout my time in Kagbeni, Kunga routinely distanced himself from his own religiosity and connection to Loba culture when we talked. This could have been in part because I was only visiting, was there for research, and hadn\u2019t known him for long. The presence of religion or tradition in Kunga\u2019s life was always described in relation to others\u2019, such as when he informed me that people in Kagbeni, or in Lower Mustang, care much less about tradition than in Upper Mustang. He did not deny his beliefs, but always pointed to other people who he believed held more. <\/p>\n\n\n\nEven with this distancing, his life was not entirely absent of these things. It was often his phone which played the videos of pujas<\/em> in the kitchen, and he occasionally went to dance practices in preparation for a ceremony which would occur the following month. The pillars of his hotel are all marked with butter and herbs placed there by the monks, and a Bon guardian presides over the front entrance to the building. Buddhist ch\u00f6rtens<\/em> and their Bon counterparts are both found on the roof. One morning, I walked downstairs to find one of the older monks in the kitchen talking to the staff. Along with some of the other local hotel owners, Kunga occasionally went to the gompa<\/em> in order to meet with the khenpo<\/em> in preparation for the upcoming consecration ceremony.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n Figure 22: Butter and herbs placed on a pillar in a hotel <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\n Figure 23: Bon guardian over main entrance of a hotel <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n Figure 24: Three ch\u00f6rten<\/em> on a hotel rooftop with Nilgiri Mountain in the distance <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nThis distancing from religion is not unique\nto Kunga, who is now in his early 40s. The people who visit the gompa<\/em> most frequently are women Aama\u2019s\nage or older, often at the same time every day. Looking at the people who live\nin Kagbeni, there is a clear divide in the generations. Women above the age of\n40 most often wear the traditional Loba clothing, while younger women rarely\ndo. This shifts as you move northward up the Kali Gandaki closer to the capital\nof Lo, where more people wear the traditional Loba clothing. As Kunga\nexplained, this is because Upper and Lower\nMustang are very different, and that people like him down at the border between\nthe two in Kagbeni don\u2019t care as much about the traditional things. <\/p>\n\n\n\nKunga\u2019s comment about people becoming \u201cmore religious\u201d as they age points to a divide in how people think about religion. If religion is expected to be primarily text-based, then he is right that Aama is becoming more religious as she begins to read more Tibetan Buddhist teachings. This understanding of religion leaves out the impact that it has on every-day life. For lay people living in Kagbeni, the actual texts are not important. At the same time, students at the monastic school have classes on the dharma<\/em>, the teaching of the Buddha, and there is a ceremony that involves carrying the physical books of the Buddha\u2019s teachings around the boundaries of the town. In other words, the texts are not unimportant or irrelevant to the presence of religions in Kagbeni, but they are not the focus of lived religion there. Sound arguably becomes more important than the texts in this setting, as it reshapes the landscape and is used by monks and lay people alike. Whether or not lay people know the reason for the power in speaking certain words like om mani padme hum<\/em>, the phrase is a piece of daily interaction with the divine.<\/p>\n\n\n\nKagbeni lives at an interesting set of crossroads. There is the physical crossroads built by the government, bringing traders and trekkers north to Lo and pilgrims east to Muktinath. There is the cultural divide expressed by Kunga, separating Upper and Lower Mustang. This divide is not only about commitment to tradition, it also implicates the conflicting Nepali, Tibetan, and Loba identities. At the borders between these categories, people in Kagbeni are reshaped by the shifting factors every day. <\/p>\n\n\n\nReligious Landscapes<\/h3>\n\n\n\nThe primary religious influences found in Kagbeni are Tibetan Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism. All three mingle and overlap, sharing sites, beliefs, and practitioners. In all three, the landscape is an essential feature. Landmarks like mountains are said to be the homes of gods, and the convergences of rivers are sacred spaces. These religious landmarks in turn map onto real physical locations, allowing spiritual authority over key sacred sites to be translated into political power (Ramble 1995: 93). Upper Mustang presents a good example of this relationships between sacred and political space, as Lo Manthang is also the seat of a principal territorial deity in local cosmologies, and the surrounding areas are home to lesser gods (Ramble 1995: 91). The seat of political power in the region is also the seat of religious power. This dynamic of mapping religion onto the landscape is not unique to Kagbeni nor to the religions present there, yet it remains an important aspect of the Tibetan Buddhist and Bon ontologies. In addition to the daily practices of spinning prayer wheels or attending to the household gods, this shows us that the entire landscape of Mustang is covered in and changed by interactions with religion.<\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the river\nconvergence south of the gompa<\/em>, a\nsmall park of sorts holds both Hindu and Buddhist shrines. Hindu pilgrims and\nnovice monks from the monastic school wash themselves in the water as the smoke\nfrom incense flows over them. The prayer wall in the gompa<\/em> complex stretches down the bank, right to where the two\nrivers meet. Prayer flags are wrapped in tree branches and hang from the\nbridge. This site \u2013 right next to the main road through town \u2013 claims the\nattention of passers-by. It\u2019s colorful, loud, and often bustling with activity.\nBells are rung by pilgrims passing through, mingling with the beeping horns of\njeeps and the Bollywood music spilling from the windows of buses. Along with\nthe ch\u00f6rtens<\/em> in the streets and the\nmonastic school up the road, it is what most people passing through would point\nto as markers of \nKagbeni\u2019s religious nature. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n Figure 25: Incense burning at the convergence of the rivers <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\n Figure 26: Prayer flags lining a bridge over the Kali Gandaki <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nAn emphasis on\nphysical, visual, markings on the landscape negates the way the landscape of\nMustang has been shaped for centuries by various mythologies and sonic\nvibrations that claim space. In the Tibetan\nBuddhist ontology, \u201cTibetan architecture, landscape, and religious\nbeliefs are woven together, forming a sacred realm. The theme of the mandala is\npresent everywhere one goes; as a spiritual vehicle and a general model\u201d\n(Xu 2010: 182). The ch\u00f6rten<\/em> is one\nstructure which weaves together these themes into the form of a mandala. As Xu\nexplains, the physical structure of a ch\u00f6rten<\/em>\nis a three-dimensional representation of a mandala, a model of the universe.\nThese structures are sprinkled across the landscape of Mustang, and throughout\nKagbeni. Varying in size and style, they are reminders of the nature of the\nuniverse, and \u201cof the spiritual realm in which Mustang is embedded\u201d (Bubriski\net al. 2018: 19). Similarly, the music used in pujas creates a mandala through\nthe way sound is created (Ellingson 1979).<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\nFigure 27: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> with paintings inside in the middle of a Kagbeni street <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\n Figure 28: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> and communal washing area in a Kagbeni street <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n Figure 29: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> at the end of a prayer wall on the peninsula between the two rivers <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nBecause of this\nemphasis on the land as being a home to deities and itself a mandala, Tibetan\nBuddhist teachings often emphasize the proper use of land in order to prevent\npollution, especially of water resources. For example, by describing how a\ntoilet should be built to promote a healthy environment, or promoting the\nplanting of trees to prevent deforestation (Vigoda 1989: 26). While water is\ngenerally sacred, or purifying, in the Tibetan landscape it takes on the\nadditional context of being scarce, and thus even more important for sustaining\nlife. <\/p>\n\n\n\nOne practice\nfrequently associated with Mustang is Sky Burial. This death ritual is often\ndescribed in documentaries and tourism materials as something that keeps\nMustang linked to the past. Vigoda explains that this is yet another example of\na religious practice reacting to the conditions of the environment. She says:<\/p>\n\n\n\n[Sky Burial] is carried out at the tops of hills and mountains, where bodies are chopped up and fed to the birds\u2026 [it] is indicative of how the lack of natural resources, and the Buddhist idea of the interdependence of all things, are manifested in a religious custom (Vigoda 1989: 29). <\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nIn recent years, however, the practice has\ndied out almost completely. There are a few reasons for this. First, Himalayan\nVultures are now an endangered species. These giant birds who once played a\nlarge role in disposing of corpses were impacted by the use of DDT in India,\nand have thus decreased in population considerably. I noticed a distinct lack\nof vultures on my second visit to Mustang in 2018, whereas my group had\ngleefully spotted a few of the birds two years before. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe second reason for\nthe deemphasis on Sky Burials is linked to global trends of modernization.\nTraditional practices, especially around death, are often looked down on or\nseen as backward by more powerful, \u2018modern\u2019 or \u2018developed\u2019 countries. Even\nthough Mustang is remote and difficult to navigate, it has been linked to trade\nnetworks for hundreds of years. Many of the wealthier families in Mustang have\nhouses in Kathmandu as well, and often travel outside the region. Seasonal jobs\nbring people to India and Tibet for trade or construction work, and children\nare often sent to school in Pokhara or Kathmandu. As a result, there are many\nways that the communities of Mustang are shaped by global trends, even without\ntaking the impact of tourism into consideration. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the same time, the\nimagination of Mustang as a stronghold of Tibetan culture is one of the main\ndraws for tourism in the region, and there are many groups which are trying to\npreserve the culture of the region. The perception that Mustang\u2019s culture and\nlanguage is unique and under attack by globalization and modernization is\nprevalent among NGOs internal and external to Nepal. While there are some\ngroups like the American Himalayan Foundation that strive towards cultural\npreservation, Sky Burials are not the focus of preservation initiatives. On the\nother hand, the few Sky Burials that do still happen today have become a draw\nfor tourists who want to see a different culture in action; preservation for\nthe sake of tourism has a different sort of friction. <\/p>\n\n\n\nWhile the Buddha\u2019s\nteachings make an impact on practitioners\u2019 relationship to the land, so does\nthe presence of the other deities in the Tibetan Buddhist and Bon cosmologies.\nThese deities inhabit the sky, atmosphere, and earth, and can be both\nbenevolent and wrathful (25). The domains of these deities recognized in\nTibetan Buddhism and Bon map onto the physical landscape of Mustang, and are\nmirrored by the structures built. In Mustang, the emphasis is placed most\nheavily on the mythology of Guru Padmasambhava, or Guru Rinpoche. In fact, the\nfigure of Guru Rinpoche is more important than that of the Buddha, and it is\nhis likeness that sits at the altar of some monasteries. <\/p>\n\n\n\nMuktinath, the\npilgrimage site to the east of Kagbeni, is one site where Guru Padmasambhava is\nsaid to have stopped, thus making it an important Buddhist site in addition to its\nimportance for Hindu pilgrims. A few days\u2019 walk north, outside of Gami village,\nthe longest mani<\/em> wall in Nepal sprawls\nacross a plateau, marking the site of a battle between Guru Padmasambhava and a\ndemoness. The canyon walls are blue and red with her blood, and a ch\u00f6rten<\/em> built in the 8th<\/sup>\ncentury safeguards her heart, cut out by Guru Padmasambhava. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Figure 30: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> north of Gami, where the demoness\u2019 heart is kept <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nIn addition to shaping the physical environment with ch\u00f6rtens<\/em>, monasteries, sound, and prayer flags, much of Tibetan Buddhism focuses on turning inwards. In the harsh landscape of high-altitude desert, methods of self-realization are emphasized in order to have a chance of escaping samsara<\/em>, the cycle of rebirth, in a future life (Gualtieri 1983: 170-1). As discussed above, this often involves sensory contact with mantras, whether it be chanting them or carving or painting them on rock walls. Peter Crossley-Holland explains another aspect of the mantra\u2019s significance. According to him, \u201ca mantra is a symbol for the divine being it is said to embody, but it is also believed to be more than that: it is believed to be an actual emanation from that being, and so an aspect of it\u201d (Crossley-Holland 1976: 50). Following this logic, sensory interaction with a mantra is interaction with the divine. Similarly, the mantras written all over the landscape help to cloak it in the presence of the divine.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis ability of the mantra to reshape the landscape is exemplified further in the prayer flags hung from high surfaces all across Tibetan Buddhist communities. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Prayer flags in the wind<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nFigure 31: Prayer flags flapping in the wind <\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\nMy friend Sherab explained to me that the Buddhist prayer flags are hung in the windiest places, because every time they flap they send the mantra written on them out into the world. As discussed earlier, mantras have the ability to reshape people and places through sensory contact. Imagine a line of flags, whipping back and forth. With each movement, waves of vibrations are carried across the landscape, spreading the mantra written on their threads as far as the wind will carry it. These waves of vibrations create sounds, too [sound clip of flags in the wind]. In his study of voice, place, and identity in Kenya, Andrew Eisenberg writes about the territoriality of sound, the ways that sounds can create social space based on how far they travel and who interacts with them. He argues that \u201csonic practices territorialize by virtue of combining physical vibration with bodily sensation and culturally conditioned meanings\u201d (2015: 199). As the prayer flags send out their vibrations in the wind, they shape the landscape around them into a sacred space, from which liberation becomes more accessible. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe\nphysical vibrations emanating from flags reminds us how religious icons and\ntexts have the ability to transform \u201cthe ordinary, coarse world into an\nextraordinary realm of spiritual wisdom and compassion\u201d (Farkas 2009: 30). From the way mandalas are created in buildings\nto represent the universe, to the dying practice of Sky Burials, to the sounds\nof prayer flags in the wind, we see how \u201cterritorial and spatial\ndimensions are intrinsically linked to the practice of\nreligion\u201d (Terrone 2014: 463).This\nis not religion that adheres primarily to specific doctrines, but is rather a\nform of religion incorporated into daily life through smaller practices and\nreflections of the landscape.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nThe Smell of the Cows<\/h3>\n\n\n\n Figure 31: Cows in the street in Kagbeni <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Cows in the morning<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nThroughout\nmy time in Kagbeni, I heard over and over about people who had left the town and\ncame back years later, or who now live elsewhere and visit as often as\npossible. I was surprised by the number of visitors I met in the month I was living\nthere, and how positively they reminisced about returning home. When I asked\npeople if they would want to return and live in Kagbeni instead of only\nvisiting, they said things like \u201cthat would be nice\u201d or \u201coh yes, I wish,\u201d but\nin a way that told me they never would. I became curious about why many people return\nto visit, but so few come back for good.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis question could be answered in part by looking at the factors limiting opportunities in Mustang, which is one of the main reasons people leave. Not surprisingly, the restriction of the region from the 1960s onwards played a large role in Mustang\u2019s ability to grow and change over time. Manjushree Thapa explains this dynamic:<\/p>\n\n\n\nRestriction had not kept Upper Mustang beyond the reach of the modern world. Rather, it had forced people out. No new sources of income had entered the area, nor had traditional occupations found means to grow. The history-book pattern \u2014 of farming in the spring, animal husbandry in the summer, and trading in the winter \u2014 had remained the same for centuries; it had stagnated (Thapa 2008: 80).<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis restriction was\naccentuated by Chinese policies to the North as well. Following 1959 and the\ninvasion of Tibet, \u201cChinese authorities had clamped down on the practice of\ngrazing of Nepali animals on Tibetan grassland\u201d (Thapa 2008: 51). This means\nthat there was less dung that could be used for fuel, less animal meat, and\nless revenue. Migratory grazing was no longer an option in the way it once was.\nThis policy of restriction is promoted as something that protects the culture\nand keeps the area as a living museum, but has evidently harmed Mustang greatly\nafter decades of not providing support to the region. Without opportunities beyond\nagriculture and tourism, people who have the means to leave do, and only some return.<\/p>\n\n\n\nIt\nquickly became clear to me upon arriving in Mustang that the locals are heavily\nimpacted by the land. We have already seen this to some extent in the way that\nbuildings are made, and the relationships between religion and landscape. This\narea north of the Himalayas is classified as high-altitude desert, with\nlow-lying trees sparsely spread along the gorge. The endangered blue sheep roam\nthe hillsides above 3500 meters, and Himalayan vultures occasionally fly\noverhead. Wind and water have shaped the Kali Gandaki gorge (which was once on\nthe bottom of the ocean floor), but they have also shaped the people who live\nwithin its walls. <\/p>\n\n\n\nTowards the end of my stay in Kagbeni, I had the opportunity to meet three siblings who are originally from the town but now live in New York City. They were a few years older than me. The sister had moved to the United States for school, and was working on a master\u2019s degree. When I met the siblings, they were visiting their mother and grandmother, and said that they would be in Mustang for two months before returning to the USA. They missed this place, they told me, and needed to get a break from the hectic lifestyle of the city. I began to tell them about my project, explaining that the idea started because I was curious about the relationship with people and place. The sister nodded and said \u201cthe people here, they really respect the land, you know? Not like in New York.\u201d It is clear that, in Kagbeni, much more attention is given to what comes from the land, and how people interact with the land on a daily basis. In New York City, the sister argued, this connection, this respect, was lost. This sentiment was communicated to me by other people I met, like Kunga, who took such pride in the fresh food of Kagbeni, and it made the cultural use of the land another site of differentiation for the people who spoke about Mustang. Just as with the political and geographic boundaries placed on Upper Mustang, statements like the sister\u2019s once again distance Mustang from other places, this time focusing on the people rather than the land. This is done by both outsiders as well as locals. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAnother friend \u2013 Mama \u2013 told me a similar story about another Loba who lived in New York for many years before returning to Kagbeni: \u201che just gave up everything and moved back here to Kagbeni… he just loved this place, man. The smell of the cows.\u201d As someone who lives in Kathmandu but returns to his home in Tiri (across the river from Kagbeni) a few times a year, Mama showed a sense of disbelief at the man in his story. He too had moved away, made a new life and started a family in the city. One of his brothers was living in New York, studying to be a photographer. And yet, they were both pulled back to Kagbeni and Tiri, just like the three siblings earlier. Mama may have laughed about the smells of the livestock, but even he admitted that he would like to visit more than he does. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the monastery, the monks provide another example of a lasting commitment to the Kagbeni community. The khenpo<\/em>, who also happens to be Mama\u2019s brother, was originally from Tiri and came back to head the monastery after receiving a higher level of monastic education in India. In addition, one of the younger monks, Dorje, was saw his role at the monastery as a service to his community. In his 20s, Dorje left Tiri for a few years to go to school and live in Kathmandu, but has since returned in order to give back to Kagbeni as the middle son of his family. Dorje explained that it is common for people from the surrounding towns to serve at the monastery for a few years, without the expectation that they would remain a monk. In his case, Dorje spent one year at the monastery before returning to Kathmandu for a year, and is now finishing his time at Kag Chode in a two-year segment. He prefers living in Kathmandu, like many other men around his age that I talked to, but also recognizes that it is nice to be out of the city and back where his family is from. When asked if he would continue to be a monk when his three years of service were over, Dorje admitted that he had not yet decided. <\/p>\n\n\n\nOne of my older\nstudents showed this commitment in a different way. In order to be ordained at\na higher level, monks in the Sakya sect must receive further schooling in\nIndia. Of the 64 students at Kag Chode, it is likely that only a few will\nfollow this path. As they get older, students often decide to disrobe and\nreenter lay society. Since the school provides both a monastic and secular\neducation, many families send their children there for the free education and\nhousing, knowing that their children will be able to succeed with the education\nwhether or not they remain as monks. When I talked to one student about his\nplans following his graduation, he told me that he wants to be ordained at a\nhigher level, which means going to India. After receiving this further\neducation, his goal is to return to Mustang and help run the gompa<\/em> and teach younger students. <\/p>\n\n\n\nPeople\nleave Mustang for school, better jobs, seasonal work, or other opportunities.\nThey come back for different seasonal work, festivals, or to visit family. Because\nthe winters are harsh in Mustang, many people leave for the season. While a few\nolder community members and children stay behind to keep the town running in\nthe coldest months, the majority of people find work or live elsewhere. The\nentire monastic school, for instance, picks up and moves to Pokhara for a few\nmonths. This seasonal migration is by no means a new phenomenon, and shows that\neven when Mustang was restricted to foreigners, people have always come and\ngone with some frequency. Their claim of being Loba, however, remains with\nthem. People living in Kathmandu identify where they are from or what their\nethnic background is when they talk about their life in the city, and they also\nlabel others in this way. For example, one trekking guide mentioned that he has\n\u201ca lot of Manangi friends.\u201d Manang is the region to the east of Mustang, and\neven if his friends live predominantly in Kathmandu, the guide still identifies\nthem as being from Manang. In the same way, people often refer to a place as\n\u201cmy village,\u201d even when they have lived in Kathmandu for most of their lives.\nAlong the same lines, people who live in Kathmandu almost never say that they\nare form Kathmandu. <\/p>\n\n\n\nClaiming\nthe identity of the village or region your family is from is common throughout\nNepal, and is in many ways related to the caste system and Hinduization in the\nPanchayat era. This is also in part due to the wide diversity of ethnic groups\nand languages in Nepal, and the original formation of the country in the 18th<\/sup>\ncentury as a unified kingdom made up of many smaller, previously distinct\ngroups. While people in Mustang are definitively Nepali, they have a deep\nconnection to their homeland. As with the gompa<\/em>\ndonor now living in Hong Kong, many people want to maintain a connection to the\nregion and support it when they can. In Mustang\nBhot in Fragments<\/em>, Manjushree Thapa tells the story of one man who lived in\nKathmandu many years before returning to Mustang, hoping to improve the area after\ngrowing accustomed to the ways of the city. When asked why he wanted to come\nback and work on developing the area, he responded \u201cthis is home. If we don\u2019t\nimprove it, who will?\u201d (Thapa 2008: 50). This statement not only shows the deep\nconnection that Loba have to their communities, it also implies that other\npeople cannot be counted on to improve life there. After a history of being let\ndown by the Nepali government and other development projects, it makes sense\nthat the community would take it into their own hands to build the road north\nto Tibet, to spur the possibility of more opportunities.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nTeam Tashi Delek<\/em><\/h3>\n\n\n\nUp until this point, there have been occasional points of friction between Nepali and Tibetan and Loba identities. In ethnicity, religion, culture, and language, people of Mustang appear to be closer to Tibet than Nepal. This perception is held by most Nepali citizens, both from Mustang and from elsewhere. At the same time, these borderland communities are still Nepali, learning the official language and singing the national anthem each day in school. One day in class at Kag Chode, I was working with the students to practice grouping words that use the same vowel sounds. I created teams, splitting the class in half, and asked what they wanted their team names to be. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Tashi Delek<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Namaste<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe students broke into laughter, pleased with the names they had chosen. <\/p>\n\n\n\nI bring up this moment with the students (this class was ages 10 through 12) because it points to a divide in how Loba people perceive themselves in relation to Nepal. Tashi<\/em> delek<\/em> and namaste<\/em> are Tibetan and Nepali words respectively, and are both used as greetings. The local language in Mustang is Loke, which is closely related to Tibetan. As a result, tashi delek<\/em> is almost always what you hear being tossed around as you walk through the streets. Namaste <\/em>is reserved for foreigners and other Nepalis. While children are taught both Nepali and English in school (in addition to Tibetan language at monastic schools), people primarily still speak in Loke in Kagbeni, rarely switching into Nepali or English unless there is another person around who speaks one of those languages. English, Nepali, and Tibetan music mingle in the streets of Kagbeni, as people play music to accompany the harvest, household chores, or evening downtime. Each language carries a different cadence, mediating spoken interactions between locals and others passing through.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis divide is in part due to the Nepali government\u2019s history of aid (or lack of it) in Mustang, but is also deeply rooted in the cultural identity of Mustang. The heart of this issue comes from the distance that is felt between what it means to be Nepali and what it means to be Tibetan, and finding a place somewhere in between. While giving myself and a Nepali business group from Kathmandu a tour of Kagbeni, Mama explained <\/p>\n\n\n\nUpper Mustang, Lower Mustang, we want to be called Tibetan, but we are not Tibetan. Tibetans are migratory people you know? But because I was born here I can say that I\u2019m Tibetan. Historically we wandered around place to place with the yaks looking for grass.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis points to the\ndivide between how Loba people see themselves and how other Tibetan and Nepali\ngroups see them. My friend explained that even though he is not \u2018Tibetan,\u2019 he\nstill identifies as being Tibetan, and does so proudly. Similar sentiments were\nexpressed to me by other people in Kagbeni. Throughout Kagbeni, and Upper\nMustang to the north, people align themselves more closely with Tibetan culture\nthan Nepali, while still maintaining their Nepali identity as well. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe royal family of Mustang provides a good example of the complicated relationship between Nepali and Tibetan identities. The family is said to be descended from Tibetan kings, yet today holds the surname Bista. This once again traces to the Rana regime and the following Panchayat era, in which \u201cof necessity, the [Loba] colonized themselves\u201d (Thapa 2008: 124). The name Bista comes from high-caste Hindu families originally, and was thus appropriated in order to increase the family\u2019s authority and recognition in the eyes of the Nepali government (Thapa 2008). Other Loba took on surnames in a similar way, often appropriating names of ethnic groups to the south of Mustang. While the Bistas are no longer recognized by the Nepali government today, they still hold social power in the region. One trekking guide who was originally from Lo Manthang told me that part of the reason the local people still respect and listen to the royal family is because \u201cit is past karma,\u201d so the people of Mustang just know to follow them. Whatever the reason, it became clear to me that the Loba put more trust and respect in the royal family of Mustang than the Nepali government.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBeyond language, there are other clear physical markers which point to the Loba being more in line with Tibetan culture. The clothing, buildings, and even the landscape of Upper Mustang all mirror that which is found in Tibet. While my friends from other regions of Nepal frequently spoke of wanting to travel to other regions of the country, the Loba I know in Kagbeni only ever spoke of wishing to visit Tibet. This is not purely for religious reasons, though going to pilgrimage sites such as Manasarovar lake certainly contributes to this desire. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThis closeness to Tibetan culture was further emphasized after 1959, when Mustang became a one of many settlement areas for Tibetan refugees \u201cdue to its close proximity to Tibetan territory, strong kinship and monastic relations with Tibetan populations and social\u2013physical landscape congruent to the Tibetan Plateau\u201d (Murton 2017: 538). Here, it is clear that the association between Mustang and Tibet goes past simply proximity or culture. In popular discourse, however, Mustang is still essentialized as being as close as you can get to \u201cauthentic\u201d Tibetan culture as it was before 1959. This perception is damaging for many reasons, and will be explored more in relation to tourism.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nReshaping Mustang<\/h3>\n\n\n\nMustang, Nepal has been\nshaped both internally and externally by religion and its relationship to\npolitics and culture. Buddhist and Bon structures have physically reshaped the\nlandscape, linking to mythology that maps onto it. These recreations of the\nland go back hundreds of years, to when Guru Rinpoche first came through the\nKali Gandaki in the 8th<\/sup> century. Bon influences on the land go back\neven further. The mingling of Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism has taken on ulterior\nmotives in the last century, however. Due to the governmental policies and lack\nof infrastructure in the region, Loba were pushed to either assimilate and\nbecome more recognizably \u201cNepali\u201d (meaning more Hindu), or leave for better\nopportunities elsewhere. The relationship with Tibet to the north was largely\nhalted as well, with only a trade fair in the summer remaining.<\/p>\n\n\n\nTurning\ntowards the tourism industry, the region is frequently characterized as a\nstronghold of Tibetan culture and religion, preserved by the restriction of the\nregion. Government policies, tourism agencies, and even museums point to\nMustang as being a special place in Nepal because of the presence of Tibetan\nBuddhism and Bon in its valleys. Kagbeni, on the border between Upper and Lower\nMustang, shows us that this popular essentialization of Loba people as purely\nreligious in many ways misinterprets the role of religion in daily life. Yes,\nsignals of Buddhism and Bon and Hinduism abound in the small town, and some\npeople do sit outside in the sun with prayer wheels spinning in their hands,\nbut this misses the complexity of the Kagbeni reality. Lives in Kagbeni are complicated and reshaped\nconstantly by the government, religions, and tourists intersecting within its\nspace. In the following chapter, I turn to look more closely at the impacts of\ntourism in and scholarship about Kagbeni and Upper Mustang.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTourism: Exceptionalism, Pilgrimage, and Romance<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Culture, Landscapes, and Identity Religious LandscapesThe Smell of the CowsTeam Tashi DelekReshaping Mustang Towards the end of my time in Kagbeni, I walked into the lounge area of the hotel I was living at to find Aama laying on one of the benches, reading quietly aloud to herself. Aama is the matriarch of the hotel, … Continue reading Religion<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3090,"featured_media":145,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-8","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3090"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8"}],"version-history":[{"count":18,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":368,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions\/368"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/145"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
He chuckled in response. \u201cIf I\u2019m still alive.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Despite Kunga\u2019s distancing of himself with this comment, it is impossible to remove the impact of religion on his life. The sounds of Tibetan mantras, for example, were not a new feature in the household. In fact, I had been hearing recordings and videos of monks performing ceremonies since my first day in Kagbeni. In the afternoons, it was not uncommon for a group to form around a smartphone in the kitchen, playing a video of a puja on YouTube. Other times, I would hear videos of mantras-turned-songs being played during breakfast, always on someone\u2019s phone. Once, a group of women from around the town gathered to perform a household ceremony in the prayer room upstairs, chanting mantras late into the evening [sound clip of household ceremony]. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Household ceremony<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nFigure 21: Prayer room at hotel<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n And that is only within the walls of his hotel. Stepping outside, the entire landscape becomes transformed as prayer flags flap in the wind, as the voices of the monks performing their daily puja<\/em> in the gompa<\/em> are projected from loudspeakers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Puja<\/em> projected through loudspeakers at Kag Chode<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nThroughout my time in Kagbeni, Kunga routinely distanced himself from his own religiosity and connection to Loba culture when we talked. This could have been in part because I was only visiting, was there for research, and hadn\u2019t known him for long. The presence of religion or tradition in Kunga\u2019s life was always described in relation to others\u2019, such as when he informed me that people in Kagbeni, or in Lower Mustang, care much less about tradition than in Upper Mustang. He did not deny his beliefs, but always pointed to other people who he believed held more. <\/p>\n\n\n\nEven with this distancing, his life was not entirely absent of these things. It was often his phone which played the videos of pujas<\/em> in the kitchen, and he occasionally went to dance practices in preparation for a ceremony which would occur the following month. The pillars of his hotel are all marked with butter and herbs placed there by the monks, and a Bon guardian presides over the front entrance to the building. Buddhist ch\u00f6rtens<\/em> and their Bon counterparts are both found on the roof. One morning, I walked downstairs to find one of the older monks in the kitchen talking to the staff. Along with some of the other local hotel owners, Kunga occasionally went to the gompa<\/em> in order to meet with the khenpo<\/em> in preparation for the upcoming consecration ceremony.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n Figure 22: Butter and herbs placed on a pillar in a hotel <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\n Figure 23: Bon guardian over main entrance of a hotel <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n Figure 24: Three ch\u00f6rten<\/em> on a hotel rooftop with Nilgiri Mountain in the distance <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nThis distancing from religion is not unique\nto Kunga, who is now in his early 40s. The people who visit the gompa<\/em> most frequently are women Aama\u2019s\nage or older, often at the same time every day. Looking at the people who live\nin Kagbeni, there is a clear divide in the generations. Women above the age of\n40 most often wear the traditional Loba clothing, while younger women rarely\ndo. This shifts as you move northward up the Kali Gandaki closer to the capital\nof Lo, where more people wear the traditional Loba clothing. As Kunga\nexplained, this is because Upper and Lower\nMustang are very different, and that people like him down at the border between\nthe two in Kagbeni don\u2019t care as much about the traditional things. <\/p>\n\n\n\nKunga\u2019s comment about people becoming \u201cmore religious\u201d as they age points to a divide in how people think about religion. If religion is expected to be primarily text-based, then he is right that Aama is becoming more religious as she begins to read more Tibetan Buddhist teachings. This understanding of religion leaves out the impact that it has on every-day life. For lay people living in Kagbeni, the actual texts are not important. At the same time, students at the monastic school have classes on the dharma<\/em>, the teaching of the Buddha, and there is a ceremony that involves carrying the physical books of the Buddha\u2019s teachings around the boundaries of the town. In other words, the texts are not unimportant or irrelevant to the presence of religions in Kagbeni, but they are not the focus of lived religion there. Sound arguably becomes more important than the texts in this setting, as it reshapes the landscape and is used by monks and lay people alike. Whether or not lay people know the reason for the power in speaking certain words like om mani padme hum<\/em>, the phrase is a piece of daily interaction with the divine.<\/p>\n\n\n\nKagbeni lives at an interesting set of crossroads. There is the physical crossroads built by the government, bringing traders and trekkers north to Lo and pilgrims east to Muktinath. There is the cultural divide expressed by Kunga, separating Upper and Lower Mustang. This divide is not only about commitment to tradition, it also implicates the conflicting Nepali, Tibetan, and Loba identities. At the borders between these categories, people in Kagbeni are reshaped by the shifting factors every day. <\/p>\n\n\n\nReligious Landscapes<\/h3>\n\n\n\nThe primary religious influences found in Kagbeni are Tibetan Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism. All three mingle and overlap, sharing sites, beliefs, and practitioners. In all three, the landscape is an essential feature. Landmarks like mountains are said to be the homes of gods, and the convergences of rivers are sacred spaces. These religious landmarks in turn map onto real physical locations, allowing spiritual authority over key sacred sites to be translated into political power (Ramble 1995: 93). Upper Mustang presents a good example of this relationships between sacred and political space, as Lo Manthang is also the seat of a principal territorial deity in local cosmologies, and the surrounding areas are home to lesser gods (Ramble 1995: 91). The seat of political power in the region is also the seat of religious power. This dynamic of mapping religion onto the landscape is not unique to Kagbeni nor to the religions present there, yet it remains an important aspect of the Tibetan Buddhist and Bon ontologies. In addition to the daily practices of spinning prayer wheels or attending to the household gods, this shows us that the entire landscape of Mustang is covered in and changed by interactions with religion.<\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the river\nconvergence south of the gompa<\/em>, a\nsmall park of sorts holds both Hindu and Buddhist shrines. Hindu pilgrims and\nnovice monks from the monastic school wash themselves in the water as the smoke\nfrom incense flows over them. The prayer wall in the gompa<\/em> complex stretches down the bank, right to where the two\nrivers meet. Prayer flags are wrapped in tree branches and hang from the\nbridge. This site \u2013 right next to the main road through town \u2013 claims the\nattention of passers-by. It\u2019s colorful, loud, and often bustling with activity.\nBells are rung by pilgrims passing through, mingling with the beeping horns of\njeeps and the Bollywood music spilling from the windows of buses. Along with\nthe ch\u00f6rtens<\/em> in the streets and the\nmonastic school up the road, it is what most people passing through would point\nto as markers of \nKagbeni\u2019s religious nature. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n Figure 25: Incense burning at the convergence of the rivers <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\n Figure 26: Prayer flags lining a bridge over the Kali Gandaki <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nAn emphasis on\nphysical, visual, markings on the landscape negates the way the landscape of\nMustang has been shaped for centuries by various mythologies and sonic\nvibrations that claim space. In the Tibetan\nBuddhist ontology, \u201cTibetan architecture, landscape, and religious\nbeliefs are woven together, forming a sacred realm. The theme of the mandala is\npresent everywhere one goes; as a spiritual vehicle and a general model\u201d\n(Xu 2010: 182). The ch\u00f6rten<\/em> is one\nstructure which weaves together these themes into the form of a mandala. As Xu\nexplains, the physical structure of a ch\u00f6rten<\/em>\nis a three-dimensional representation of a mandala, a model of the universe.\nThese structures are sprinkled across the landscape of Mustang, and throughout\nKagbeni. Varying in size and style, they are reminders of the nature of the\nuniverse, and \u201cof the spiritual realm in which Mustang is embedded\u201d (Bubriski\net al. 2018: 19). Similarly, the music used in pujas creates a mandala through\nthe way sound is created (Ellingson 1979).<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\nFigure 27: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> with paintings inside in the middle of a Kagbeni street <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\n Figure 28: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> and communal washing area in a Kagbeni street <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n Figure 29: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> at the end of a prayer wall on the peninsula between the two rivers <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nBecause of this\nemphasis on the land as being a home to deities and itself a mandala, Tibetan\nBuddhist teachings often emphasize the proper use of land in order to prevent\npollution, especially of water resources. For example, by describing how a\ntoilet should be built to promote a healthy environment, or promoting the\nplanting of trees to prevent deforestation (Vigoda 1989: 26). While water is\ngenerally sacred, or purifying, in the Tibetan landscape it takes on the\nadditional context of being scarce, and thus even more important for sustaining\nlife. <\/p>\n\n\n\nOne practice\nfrequently associated with Mustang is Sky Burial. This death ritual is often\ndescribed in documentaries and tourism materials as something that keeps\nMustang linked to the past. Vigoda explains that this is yet another example of\na religious practice reacting to the conditions of the environment. She says:<\/p>\n\n\n\n[Sky Burial] is carried out at the tops of hills and mountains, where bodies are chopped up and fed to the birds\u2026 [it] is indicative of how the lack of natural resources, and the Buddhist idea of the interdependence of all things, are manifested in a religious custom (Vigoda 1989: 29). <\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nIn recent years, however, the practice has\ndied out almost completely. There are a few reasons for this. First, Himalayan\nVultures are now an endangered species. These giant birds who once played a\nlarge role in disposing of corpses were impacted by the use of DDT in India,\nand have thus decreased in population considerably. I noticed a distinct lack\nof vultures on my second visit to Mustang in 2018, whereas my group had\ngleefully spotted a few of the birds two years before. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe second reason for\nthe deemphasis on Sky Burials is linked to global trends of modernization.\nTraditional practices, especially around death, are often looked down on or\nseen as backward by more powerful, \u2018modern\u2019 or \u2018developed\u2019 countries. Even\nthough Mustang is remote and difficult to navigate, it has been linked to trade\nnetworks for hundreds of years. Many of the wealthier families in Mustang have\nhouses in Kathmandu as well, and often travel outside the region. Seasonal jobs\nbring people to India and Tibet for trade or construction work, and children\nare often sent to school in Pokhara or Kathmandu. As a result, there are many\nways that the communities of Mustang are shaped by global trends, even without\ntaking the impact of tourism into consideration. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the same time, the\nimagination of Mustang as a stronghold of Tibetan culture is one of the main\ndraws for tourism in the region, and there are many groups which are trying to\npreserve the culture of the region. The perception that Mustang\u2019s culture and\nlanguage is unique and under attack by globalization and modernization is\nprevalent among NGOs internal and external to Nepal. While there are some\ngroups like the American Himalayan Foundation that strive towards cultural\npreservation, Sky Burials are not the focus of preservation initiatives. On the\nother hand, the few Sky Burials that do still happen today have become a draw\nfor tourists who want to see a different culture in action; preservation for\nthe sake of tourism has a different sort of friction. <\/p>\n\n\n\nWhile the Buddha\u2019s\nteachings make an impact on practitioners\u2019 relationship to the land, so does\nthe presence of the other deities in the Tibetan Buddhist and Bon cosmologies.\nThese deities inhabit the sky, atmosphere, and earth, and can be both\nbenevolent and wrathful (25). The domains of these deities recognized in\nTibetan Buddhism and Bon map onto the physical landscape of Mustang, and are\nmirrored by the structures built. In Mustang, the emphasis is placed most\nheavily on the mythology of Guru Padmasambhava, or Guru Rinpoche. In fact, the\nfigure of Guru Rinpoche is more important than that of the Buddha, and it is\nhis likeness that sits at the altar of some monasteries. <\/p>\n\n\n\nMuktinath, the\npilgrimage site to the east of Kagbeni, is one site where Guru Padmasambhava is\nsaid to have stopped, thus making it an important Buddhist site in addition to its\nimportance for Hindu pilgrims. A few days\u2019 walk north, outside of Gami village,\nthe longest mani<\/em> wall in Nepal sprawls\nacross a plateau, marking the site of a battle between Guru Padmasambhava and a\ndemoness. The canyon walls are blue and red with her blood, and a ch\u00f6rten<\/em> built in the 8th<\/sup>\ncentury safeguards her heart, cut out by Guru Padmasambhava. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Figure 30: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> north of Gami, where the demoness\u2019 heart is kept <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nIn addition to shaping the physical environment with ch\u00f6rtens<\/em>, monasteries, sound, and prayer flags, much of Tibetan Buddhism focuses on turning inwards. In the harsh landscape of high-altitude desert, methods of self-realization are emphasized in order to have a chance of escaping samsara<\/em>, the cycle of rebirth, in a future life (Gualtieri 1983: 170-1). As discussed above, this often involves sensory contact with mantras, whether it be chanting them or carving or painting them on rock walls. Peter Crossley-Holland explains another aspect of the mantra\u2019s significance. According to him, \u201ca mantra is a symbol for the divine being it is said to embody, but it is also believed to be more than that: it is believed to be an actual emanation from that being, and so an aspect of it\u201d (Crossley-Holland 1976: 50). Following this logic, sensory interaction with a mantra is interaction with the divine. Similarly, the mantras written all over the landscape help to cloak it in the presence of the divine.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis ability of the mantra to reshape the landscape is exemplified further in the prayer flags hung from high surfaces all across Tibetan Buddhist communities. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Prayer flags in the wind<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nFigure 31: Prayer flags flapping in the wind <\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\nMy friend Sherab explained to me that the Buddhist prayer flags are hung in the windiest places, because every time they flap they send the mantra written on them out into the world. As discussed earlier, mantras have the ability to reshape people and places through sensory contact. Imagine a line of flags, whipping back and forth. With each movement, waves of vibrations are carried across the landscape, spreading the mantra written on their threads as far as the wind will carry it. These waves of vibrations create sounds, too [sound clip of flags in the wind]. In his study of voice, place, and identity in Kenya, Andrew Eisenberg writes about the territoriality of sound, the ways that sounds can create social space based on how far they travel and who interacts with them. He argues that \u201csonic practices territorialize by virtue of combining physical vibration with bodily sensation and culturally conditioned meanings\u201d (2015: 199). As the prayer flags send out their vibrations in the wind, they shape the landscape around them into a sacred space, from which liberation becomes more accessible. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe\nphysical vibrations emanating from flags reminds us how religious icons and\ntexts have the ability to transform \u201cthe ordinary, coarse world into an\nextraordinary realm of spiritual wisdom and compassion\u201d (Farkas 2009: 30). From the way mandalas are created in buildings\nto represent the universe, to the dying practice of Sky Burials, to the sounds\nof prayer flags in the wind, we see how \u201cterritorial and spatial\ndimensions are intrinsically linked to the practice of\nreligion\u201d (Terrone 2014: 463).This\nis not religion that adheres primarily to specific doctrines, but is rather a\nform of religion incorporated into daily life through smaller practices and\nreflections of the landscape.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nThe Smell of the Cows<\/h3>\n\n\n\n Figure 31: Cows in the street in Kagbeni <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Cows in the morning<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nThroughout\nmy time in Kagbeni, I heard over and over about people who had left the town and\ncame back years later, or who now live elsewhere and visit as often as\npossible. I was surprised by the number of visitors I met in the month I was living\nthere, and how positively they reminisced about returning home. When I asked\npeople if they would want to return and live in Kagbeni instead of only\nvisiting, they said things like \u201cthat would be nice\u201d or \u201coh yes, I wish,\u201d but\nin a way that told me they never would. I became curious about why many people return\nto visit, but so few come back for good.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis question could be answered in part by looking at the factors limiting opportunities in Mustang, which is one of the main reasons people leave. Not surprisingly, the restriction of the region from the 1960s onwards played a large role in Mustang\u2019s ability to grow and change over time. Manjushree Thapa explains this dynamic:<\/p>\n\n\n\nRestriction had not kept Upper Mustang beyond the reach of the modern world. Rather, it had forced people out. No new sources of income had entered the area, nor had traditional occupations found means to grow. The history-book pattern \u2014 of farming in the spring, animal husbandry in the summer, and trading in the winter \u2014 had remained the same for centuries; it had stagnated (Thapa 2008: 80).<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis restriction was\naccentuated by Chinese policies to the North as well. Following 1959 and the\ninvasion of Tibet, \u201cChinese authorities had clamped down on the practice of\ngrazing of Nepali animals on Tibetan grassland\u201d (Thapa 2008: 51). This means\nthat there was less dung that could be used for fuel, less animal meat, and\nless revenue. Migratory grazing was no longer an option in the way it once was.\nThis policy of restriction is promoted as something that protects the culture\nand keeps the area as a living museum, but has evidently harmed Mustang greatly\nafter decades of not providing support to the region. Without opportunities beyond\nagriculture and tourism, people who have the means to leave do, and only some return.<\/p>\n\n\n\nIt\nquickly became clear to me upon arriving in Mustang that the locals are heavily\nimpacted by the land. We have already seen this to some extent in the way that\nbuildings are made, and the relationships between religion and landscape. This\narea north of the Himalayas is classified as high-altitude desert, with\nlow-lying trees sparsely spread along the gorge. The endangered blue sheep roam\nthe hillsides above 3500 meters, and Himalayan vultures occasionally fly\noverhead. Wind and water have shaped the Kali Gandaki gorge (which was once on\nthe bottom of the ocean floor), but they have also shaped the people who live\nwithin its walls. <\/p>\n\n\n\nTowards the end of my stay in Kagbeni, I had the opportunity to meet three siblings who are originally from the town but now live in New York City. They were a few years older than me. The sister had moved to the United States for school, and was working on a master\u2019s degree. When I met the siblings, they were visiting their mother and grandmother, and said that they would be in Mustang for two months before returning to the USA. They missed this place, they told me, and needed to get a break from the hectic lifestyle of the city. I began to tell them about my project, explaining that the idea started because I was curious about the relationship with people and place. The sister nodded and said \u201cthe people here, they really respect the land, you know? Not like in New York.\u201d It is clear that, in Kagbeni, much more attention is given to what comes from the land, and how people interact with the land on a daily basis. In New York City, the sister argued, this connection, this respect, was lost. This sentiment was communicated to me by other people I met, like Kunga, who took such pride in the fresh food of Kagbeni, and it made the cultural use of the land another site of differentiation for the people who spoke about Mustang. Just as with the political and geographic boundaries placed on Upper Mustang, statements like the sister\u2019s once again distance Mustang from other places, this time focusing on the people rather than the land. This is done by both outsiders as well as locals. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAnother friend \u2013 Mama \u2013 told me a similar story about another Loba who lived in New York for many years before returning to Kagbeni: \u201che just gave up everything and moved back here to Kagbeni… he just loved this place, man. The smell of the cows.\u201d As someone who lives in Kathmandu but returns to his home in Tiri (across the river from Kagbeni) a few times a year, Mama showed a sense of disbelief at the man in his story. He too had moved away, made a new life and started a family in the city. One of his brothers was living in New York, studying to be a photographer. And yet, they were both pulled back to Kagbeni and Tiri, just like the three siblings earlier. Mama may have laughed about the smells of the livestock, but even he admitted that he would like to visit more than he does. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the monastery, the monks provide another example of a lasting commitment to the Kagbeni community. The khenpo<\/em>, who also happens to be Mama\u2019s brother, was originally from Tiri and came back to head the monastery after receiving a higher level of monastic education in India. In addition, one of the younger monks, Dorje, was saw his role at the monastery as a service to his community. In his 20s, Dorje left Tiri for a few years to go to school and live in Kathmandu, but has since returned in order to give back to Kagbeni as the middle son of his family. Dorje explained that it is common for people from the surrounding towns to serve at the monastery for a few years, without the expectation that they would remain a monk. In his case, Dorje spent one year at the monastery before returning to Kathmandu for a year, and is now finishing his time at Kag Chode in a two-year segment. He prefers living in Kathmandu, like many other men around his age that I talked to, but also recognizes that it is nice to be out of the city and back where his family is from. When asked if he would continue to be a monk when his three years of service were over, Dorje admitted that he had not yet decided. <\/p>\n\n\n\nOne of my older\nstudents showed this commitment in a different way. In order to be ordained at\na higher level, monks in the Sakya sect must receive further schooling in\nIndia. Of the 64 students at Kag Chode, it is likely that only a few will\nfollow this path. As they get older, students often decide to disrobe and\nreenter lay society. Since the school provides both a monastic and secular\neducation, many families send their children there for the free education and\nhousing, knowing that their children will be able to succeed with the education\nwhether or not they remain as monks. When I talked to one student about his\nplans following his graduation, he told me that he wants to be ordained at a\nhigher level, which means going to India. After receiving this further\neducation, his goal is to return to Mustang and help run the gompa<\/em> and teach younger students. <\/p>\n\n\n\nPeople\nleave Mustang for school, better jobs, seasonal work, or other opportunities.\nThey come back for different seasonal work, festivals, or to visit family. Because\nthe winters are harsh in Mustang, many people leave for the season. While a few\nolder community members and children stay behind to keep the town running in\nthe coldest months, the majority of people find work or live elsewhere. The\nentire monastic school, for instance, picks up and moves to Pokhara for a few\nmonths. This seasonal migration is by no means a new phenomenon, and shows that\neven when Mustang was restricted to foreigners, people have always come and\ngone with some frequency. Their claim of being Loba, however, remains with\nthem. People living in Kathmandu identify where they are from or what their\nethnic background is when they talk about their life in the city, and they also\nlabel others in this way. For example, one trekking guide mentioned that he has\n\u201ca lot of Manangi friends.\u201d Manang is the region to the east of Mustang, and\neven if his friends live predominantly in Kathmandu, the guide still identifies\nthem as being from Manang. In the same way, people often refer to a place as\n\u201cmy village,\u201d even when they have lived in Kathmandu for most of their lives.\nAlong the same lines, people who live in Kathmandu almost never say that they\nare form Kathmandu. <\/p>\n\n\n\nClaiming\nthe identity of the village or region your family is from is common throughout\nNepal, and is in many ways related to the caste system and Hinduization in the\nPanchayat era. This is also in part due to the wide diversity of ethnic groups\nand languages in Nepal, and the original formation of the country in the 18th<\/sup>\ncentury as a unified kingdom made up of many smaller, previously distinct\ngroups. While people in Mustang are definitively Nepali, they have a deep\nconnection to their homeland. As with the gompa<\/em>\ndonor now living in Hong Kong, many people want to maintain a connection to the\nregion and support it when they can. In Mustang\nBhot in Fragments<\/em>, Manjushree Thapa tells the story of one man who lived in\nKathmandu many years before returning to Mustang, hoping to improve the area after\ngrowing accustomed to the ways of the city. When asked why he wanted to come\nback and work on developing the area, he responded \u201cthis is home. If we don\u2019t\nimprove it, who will?\u201d (Thapa 2008: 50). This statement not only shows the deep\nconnection that Loba have to their communities, it also implies that other\npeople cannot be counted on to improve life there. After a history of being let\ndown by the Nepali government and other development projects, it makes sense\nthat the community would take it into their own hands to build the road north\nto Tibet, to spur the possibility of more opportunities.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nTeam Tashi Delek<\/em><\/h3>\n\n\n\nUp until this point, there have been occasional points of friction between Nepali and Tibetan and Loba identities. In ethnicity, religion, culture, and language, people of Mustang appear to be closer to Tibet than Nepal. This perception is held by most Nepali citizens, both from Mustang and from elsewhere. At the same time, these borderland communities are still Nepali, learning the official language and singing the national anthem each day in school. One day in class at Kag Chode, I was working with the students to practice grouping words that use the same vowel sounds. I created teams, splitting the class in half, and asked what they wanted their team names to be. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Tashi Delek<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Namaste<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe students broke into laughter, pleased with the names they had chosen. <\/p>\n\n\n\nI bring up this moment with the students (this class was ages 10 through 12) because it points to a divide in how Loba people perceive themselves in relation to Nepal. Tashi<\/em> delek<\/em> and namaste<\/em> are Tibetan and Nepali words respectively, and are both used as greetings. The local language in Mustang is Loke, which is closely related to Tibetan. As a result, tashi delek<\/em> is almost always what you hear being tossed around as you walk through the streets. Namaste <\/em>is reserved for foreigners and other Nepalis. While children are taught both Nepali and English in school (in addition to Tibetan language at monastic schools), people primarily still speak in Loke in Kagbeni, rarely switching into Nepali or English unless there is another person around who speaks one of those languages. English, Nepali, and Tibetan music mingle in the streets of Kagbeni, as people play music to accompany the harvest, household chores, or evening downtime. Each language carries a different cadence, mediating spoken interactions between locals and others passing through.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis divide is in part due to the Nepali government\u2019s history of aid (or lack of it) in Mustang, but is also deeply rooted in the cultural identity of Mustang. The heart of this issue comes from the distance that is felt between what it means to be Nepali and what it means to be Tibetan, and finding a place somewhere in between. While giving myself and a Nepali business group from Kathmandu a tour of Kagbeni, Mama explained <\/p>\n\n\n\nUpper Mustang, Lower Mustang, we want to be called Tibetan, but we are not Tibetan. Tibetans are migratory people you know? But because I was born here I can say that I\u2019m Tibetan. Historically we wandered around place to place with the yaks looking for grass.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis points to the\ndivide between how Loba people see themselves and how other Tibetan and Nepali\ngroups see them. My friend explained that even though he is not \u2018Tibetan,\u2019 he\nstill identifies as being Tibetan, and does so proudly. Similar sentiments were\nexpressed to me by other people in Kagbeni. Throughout Kagbeni, and Upper\nMustang to the north, people align themselves more closely with Tibetan culture\nthan Nepali, while still maintaining their Nepali identity as well. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe royal family of Mustang provides a good example of the complicated relationship between Nepali and Tibetan identities. The family is said to be descended from Tibetan kings, yet today holds the surname Bista. This once again traces to the Rana regime and the following Panchayat era, in which \u201cof necessity, the [Loba] colonized themselves\u201d (Thapa 2008: 124). The name Bista comes from high-caste Hindu families originally, and was thus appropriated in order to increase the family\u2019s authority and recognition in the eyes of the Nepali government (Thapa 2008). Other Loba took on surnames in a similar way, often appropriating names of ethnic groups to the south of Mustang. While the Bistas are no longer recognized by the Nepali government today, they still hold social power in the region. One trekking guide who was originally from Lo Manthang told me that part of the reason the local people still respect and listen to the royal family is because \u201cit is past karma,\u201d so the people of Mustang just know to follow them. Whatever the reason, it became clear to me that the Loba put more trust and respect in the royal family of Mustang than the Nepali government.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBeyond language, there are other clear physical markers which point to the Loba being more in line with Tibetan culture. The clothing, buildings, and even the landscape of Upper Mustang all mirror that which is found in Tibet. While my friends from other regions of Nepal frequently spoke of wanting to travel to other regions of the country, the Loba I know in Kagbeni only ever spoke of wishing to visit Tibet. This is not purely for religious reasons, though going to pilgrimage sites such as Manasarovar lake certainly contributes to this desire. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThis closeness to Tibetan culture was further emphasized after 1959, when Mustang became a one of many settlement areas for Tibetan refugees \u201cdue to its close proximity to Tibetan territory, strong kinship and monastic relations with Tibetan populations and social\u2013physical landscape congruent to the Tibetan Plateau\u201d (Murton 2017: 538). Here, it is clear that the association between Mustang and Tibet goes past simply proximity or culture. In popular discourse, however, Mustang is still essentialized as being as close as you can get to \u201cauthentic\u201d Tibetan culture as it was before 1959. This perception is damaging for many reasons, and will be explored more in relation to tourism.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nReshaping Mustang<\/h3>\n\n\n\nMustang, Nepal has been\nshaped both internally and externally by religion and its relationship to\npolitics and culture. Buddhist and Bon structures have physically reshaped the\nlandscape, linking to mythology that maps onto it. These recreations of the\nland go back hundreds of years, to when Guru Rinpoche first came through the\nKali Gandaki in the 8th<\/sup> century. Bon influences on the land go back\neven further. The mingling of Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism has taken on ulterior\nmotives in the last century, however. Due to the governmental policies and lack\nof infrastructure in the region, Loba were pushed to either assimilate and\nbecome more recognizably \u201cNepali\u201d (meaning more Hindu), or leave for better\nopportunities elsewhere. The relationship with Tibet to the north was largely\nhalted as well, with only a trade fair in the summer remaining.<\/p>\n\n\n\nTurning\ntowards the tourism industry, the region is frequently characterized as a\nstronghold of Tibetan culture and religion, preserved by the restriction of the\nregion. Government policies, tourism agencies, and even museums point to\nMustang as being a special place in Nepal because of the presence of Tibetan\nBuddhism and Bon in its valleys. Kagbeni, on the border between Upper and Lower\nMustang, shows us that this popular essentialization of Loba people as purely\nreligious in many ways misinterprets the role of religion in daily life. Yes,\nsignals of Buddhism and Bon and Hinduism abound in the small town, and some\npeople do sit outside in the sun with prayer wheels spinning in their hands,\nbut this misses the complexity of the Kagbeni reality. Lives in Kagbeni are complicated and reshaped\nconstantly by the government, religions, and tourists intersecting within its\nspace. In the following chapter, I turn to look more closely at the impacts of\ntourism in and scholarship about Kagbeni and Upper Mustang.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTourism: Exceptionalism, Pilgrimage, and Romance<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Culture, Landscapes, and Identity Religious LandscapesThe Smell of the CowsTeam Tashi DelekReshaping Mustang Towards the end of my time in Kagbeni, I walked into the lounge area of the hotel I was living at to find Aama laying on one of the benches, reading quietly aloud to herself. Aama is the matriarch of the hotel, … Continue reading Religion<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3090,"featured_media":145,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-8","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3090"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8"}],"version-history":[{"count":18,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":368,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions\/368"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/145"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
And that is only within the walls of his hotel. Stepping outside, the entire landscape becomes transformed as prayer flags flap in the wind, as the voices of the monks performing their daily puja<\/em> in the gompa<\/em> are projected from loudspeakers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Puja<\/em> projected through loudspeakers at Kag Chode<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nThroughout my time in Kagbeni, Kunga routinely distanced himself from his own religiosity and connection to Loba culture when we talked. This could have been in part because I was only visiting, was there for research, and hadn\u2019t known him for long. The presence of religion or tradition in Kunga\u2019s life was always described in relation to others\u2019, such as when he informed me that people in Kagbeni, or in Lower Mustang, care much less about tradition than in Upper Mustang. He did not deny his beliefs, but always pointed to other people who he believed held more. <\/p>\n\n\n\nEven with this distancing, his life was not entirely absent of these things. It was often his phone which played the videos of pujas<\/em> in the kitchen, and he occasionally went to dance practices in preparation for a ceremony which would occur the following month. The pillars of his hotel are all marked with butter and herbs placed there by the monks, and a Bon guardian presides over the front entrance to the building. Buddhist ch\u00f6rtens<\/em> and their Bon counterparts are both found on the roof. One morning, I walked downstairs to find one of the older monks in the kitchen talking to the staff. Along with some of the other local hotel owners, Kunga occasionally went to the gompa<\/em> in order to meet with the khenpo<\/em> in preparation for the upcoming consecration ceremony.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n Figure 22: Butter and herbs placed on a pillar in a hotel <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\n Figure 23: Bon guardian over main entrance of a hotel <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n Figure 24: Three ch\u00f6rten<\/em> on a hotel rooftop with Nilgiri Mountain in the distance <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nThis distancing from religion is not unique\nto Kunga, who is now in his early 40s. The people who visit the gompa<\/em> most frequently are women Aama\u2019s\nage or older, often at the same time every day. Looking at the people who live\nin Kagbeni, there is a clear divide in the generations. Women above the age of\n40 most often wear the traditional Loba clothing, while younger women rarely\ndo. This shifts as you move northward up the Kali Gandaki closer to the capital\nof Lo, where more people wear the traditional Loba clothing. As Kunga\nexplained, this is because Upper and Lower\nMustang are very different, and that people like him down at the border between\nthe two in Kagbeni don\u2019t care as much about the traditional things. <\/p>\n\n\n\nKunga\u2019s comment about people becoming \u201cmore religious\u201d as they age points to a divide in how people think about religion. If religion is expected to be primarily text-based, then he is right that Aama is becoming more religious as she begins to read more Tibetan Buddhist teachings. This understanding of religion leaves out the impact that it has on every-day life. For lay people living in Kagbeni, the actual texts are not important. At the same time, students at the monastic school have classes on the dharma<\/em>, the teaching of the Buddha, and there is a ceremony that involves carrying the physical books of the Buddha\u2019s teachings around the boundaries of the town. In other words, the texts are not unimportant or irrelevant to the presence of religions in Kagbeni, but they are not the focus of lived religion there. Sound arguably becomes more important than the texts in this setting, as it reshapes the landscape and is used by monks and lay people alike. Whether or not lay people know the reason for the power in speaking certain words like om mani padme hum<\/em>, the phrase is a piece of daily interaction with the divine.<\/p>\n\n\n\nKagbeni lives at an interesting set of crossroads. There is the physical crossroads built by the government, bringing traders and trekkers north to Lo and pilgrims east to Muktinath. There is the cultural divide expressed by Kunga, separating Upper and Lower Mustang. This divide is not only about commitment to tradition, it also implicates the conflicting Nepali, Tibetan, and Loba identities. At the borders between these categories, people in Kagbeni are reshaped by the shifting factors every day. <\/p>\n\n\n\nReligious Landscapes<\/h3>\n\n\n\nThe primary religious influences found in Kagbeni are Tibetan Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism. All three mingle and overlap, sharing sites, beliefs, and practitioners. In all three, the landscape is an essential feature. Landmarks like mountains are said to be the homes of gods, and the convergences of rivers are sacred spaces. These religious landmarks in turn map onto real physical locations, allowing spiritual authority over key sacred sites to be translated into political power (Ramble 1995: 93). Upper Mustang presents a good example of this relationships between sacred and political space, as Lo Manthang is also the seat of a principal territorial deity in local cosmologies, and the surrounding areas are home to lesser gods (Ramble 1995: 91). The seat of political power in the region is also the seat of religious power. This dynamic of mapping religion onto the landscape is not unique to Kagbeni nor to the religions present there, yet it remains an important aspect of the Tibetan Buddhist and Bon ontologies. In addition to the daily practices of spinning prayer wheels or attending to the household gods, this shows us that the entire landscape of Mustang is covered in and changed by interactions with religion.<\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the river\nconvergence south of the gompa<\/em>, a\nsmall park of sorts holds both Hindu and Buddhist shrines. Hindu pilgrims and\nnovice monks from the monastic school wash themselves in the water as the smoke\nfrom incense flows over them. The prayer wall in the gompa<\/em> complex stretches down the bank, right to where the two\nrivers meet. Prayer flags are wrapped in tree branches and hang from the\nbridge. This site \u2013 right next to the main road through town \u2013 claims the\nattention of passers-by. It\u2019s colorful, loud, and often bustling with activity.\nBells are rung by pilgrims passing through, mingling with the beeping horns of\njeeps and the Bollywood music spilling from the windows of buses. Along with\nthe ch\u00f6rtens<\/em> in the streets and the\nmonastic school up the road, it is what most people passing through would point\nto as markers of \nKagbeni\u2019s religious nature. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n Figure 25: Incense burning at the convergence of the rivers <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\n Figure 26: Prayer flags lining a bridge over the Kali Gandaki <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nAn emphasis on\nphysical, visual, markings on the landscape negates the way the landscape of\nMustang has been shaped for centuries by various mythologies and sonic\nvibrations that claim space. In the Tibetan\nBuddhist ontology, \u201cTibetan architecture, landscape, and religious\nbeliefs are woven together, forming a sacred realm. The theme of the mandala is\npresent everywhere one goes; as a spiritual vehicle and a general model\u201d\n(Xu 2010: 182). The ch\u00f6rten<\/em> is one\nstructure which weaves together these themes into the form of a mandala. As Xu\nexplains, the physical structure of a ch\u00f6rten<\/em>\nis a three-dimensional representation of a mandala, a model of the universe.\nThese structures are sprinkled across the landscape of Mustang, and throughout\nKagbeni. Varying in size and style, they are reminders of the nature of the\nuniverse, and \u201cof the spiritual realm in which Mustang is embedded\u201d (Bubriski\net al. 2018: 19). Similarly, the music used in pujas creates a mandala through\nthe way sound is created (Ellingson 1979).<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\nFigure 27: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> with paintings inside in the middle of a Kagbeni street <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\n Figure 28: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> and communal washing area in a Kagbeni street <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n Figure 29: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> at the end of a prayer wall on the peninsula between the two rivers <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nBecause of this\nemphasis on the land as being a home to deities and itself a mandala, Tibetan\nBuddhist teachings often emphasize the proper use of land in order to prevent\npollution, especially of water resources. For example, by describing how a\ntoilet should be built to promote a healthy environment, or promoting the\nplanting of trees to prevent deforestation (Vigoda 1989: 26). While water is\ngenerally sacred, or purifying, in the Tibetan landscape it takes on the\nadditional context of being scarce, and thus even more important for sustaining\nlife. <\/p>\n\n\n\nOne practice\nfrequently associated with Mustang is Sky Burial. This death ritual is often\ndescribed in documentaries and tourism materials as something that keeps\nMustang linked to the past. Vigoda explains that this is yet another example of\na religious practice reacting to the conditions of the environment. She says:<\/p>\n\n\n\n[Sky Burial] is carried out at the tops of hills and mountains, where bodies are chopped up and fed to the birds\u2026 [it] is indicative of how the lack of natural resources, and the Buddhist idea of the interdependence of all things, are manifested in a religious custom (Vigoda 1989: 29). <\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nIn recent years, however, the practice has\ndied out almost completely. There are a few reasons for this. First, Himalayan\nVultures are now an endangered species. These giant birds who once played a\nlarge role in disposing of corpses were impacted by the use of DDT in India,\nand have thus decreased in population considerably. I noticed a distinct lack\nof vultures on my second visit to Mustang in 2018, whereas my group had\ngleefully spotted a few of the birds two years before. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe second reason for\nthe deemphasis on Sky Burials is linked to global trends of modernization.\nTraditional practices, especially around death, are often looked down on or\nseen as backward by more powerful, \u2018modern\u2019 or \u2018developed\u2019 countries. Even\nthough Mustang is remote and difficult to navigate, it has been linked to trade\nnetworks for hundreds of years. Many of the wealthier families in Mustang have\nhouses in Kathmandu as well, and often travel outside the region. Seasonal jobs\nbring people to India and Tibet for trade or construction work, and children\nare often sent to school in Pokhara or Kathmandu. As a result, there are many\nways that the communities of Mustang are shaped by global trends, even without\ntaking the impact of tourism into consideration. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the same time, the\nimagination of Mustang as a stronghold of Tibetan culture is one of the main\ndraws for tourism in the region, and there are many groups which are trying to\npreserve the culture of the region. The perception that Mustang\u2019s culture and\nlanguage is unique and under attack by globalization and modernization is\nprevalent among NGOs internal and external to Nepal. While there are some\ngroups like the American Himalayan Foundation that strive towards cultural\npreservation, Sky Burials are not the focus of preservation initiatives. On the\nother hand, the few Sky Burials that do still happen today have become a draw\nfor tourists who want to see a different culture in action; preservation for\nthe sake of tourism has a different sort of friction. <\/p>\n\n\n\nWhile the Buddha\u2019s\nteachings make an impact on practitioners\u2019 relationship to the land, so does\nthe presence of the other deities in the Tibetan Buddhist and Bon cosmologies.\nThese deities inhabit the sky, atmosphere, and earth, and can be both\nbenevolent and wrathful (25). The domains of these deities recognized in\nTibetan Buddhism and Bon map onto the physical landscape of Mustang, and are\nmirrored by the structures built. In Mustang, the emphasis is placed most\nheavily on the mythology of Guru Padmasambhava, or Guru Rinpoche. In fact, the\nfigure of Guru Rinpoche is more important than that of the Buddha, and it is\nhis likeness that sits at the altar of some monasteries. <\/p>\n\n\n\nMuktinath, the\npilgrimage site to the east of Kagbeni, is one site where Guru Padmasambhava is\nsaid to have stopped, thus making it an important Buddhist site in addition to its\nimportance for Hindu pilgrims. A few days\u2019 walk north, outside of Gami village,\nthe longest mani<\/em> wall in Nepal sprawls\nacross a plateau, marking the site of a battle between Guru Padmasambhava and a\ndemoness. The canyon walls are blue and red with her blood, and a ch\u00f6rten<\/em> built in the 8th<\/sup>\ncentury safeguards her heart, cut out by Guru Padmasambhava. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Figure 30: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> north of Gami, where the demoness\u2019 heart is kept <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nIn addition to shaping the physical environment with ch\u00f6rtens<\/em>, monasteries, sound, and prayer flags, much of Tibetan Buddhism focuses on turning inwards. In the harsh landscape of high-altitude desert, methods of self-realization are emphasized in order to have a chance of escaping samsara<\/em>, the cycle of rebirth, in a future life (Gualtieri 1983: 170-1). As discussed above, this often involves sensory contact with mantras, whether it be chanting them or carving or painting them on rock walls. Peter Crossley-Holland explains another aspect of the mantra\u2019s significance. According to him, \u201ca mantra is a symbol for the divine being it is said to embody, but it is also believed to be more than that: it is believed to be an actual emanation from that being, and so an aspect of it\u201d (Crossley-Holland 1976: 50). Following this logic, sensory interaction with a mantra is interaction with the divine. Similarly, the mantras written all over the landscape help to cloak it in the presence of the divine.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis ability of the mantra to reshape the landscape is exemplified further in the prayer flags hung from high surfaces all across Tibetan Buddhist communities. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Prayer flags in the wind<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nFigure 31: Prayer flags flapping in the wind <\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\nMy friend Sherab explained to me that the Buddhist prayer flags are hung in the windiest places, because every time they flap they send the mantra written on them out into the world. As discussed earlier, mantras have the ability to reshape people and places through sensory contact. Imagine a line of flags, whipping back and forth. With each movement, waves of vibrations are carried across the landscape, spreading the mantra written on their threads as far as the wind will carry it. These waves of vibrations create sounds, too [sound clip of flags in the wind]. In his study of voice, place, and identity in Kenya, Andrew Eisenberg writes about the territoriality of sound, the ways that sounds can create social space based on how far they travel and who interacts with them. He argues that \u201csonic practices territorialize by virtue of combining physical vibration with bodily sensation and culturally conditioned meanings\u201d (2015: 199). As the prayer flags send out their vibrations in the wind, they shape the landscape around them into a sacred space, from which liberation becomes more accessible. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe\nphysical vibrations emanating from flags reminds us how religious icons and\ntexts have the ability to transform \u201cthe ordinary, coarse world into an\nextraordinary realm of spiritual wisdom and compassion\u201d (Farkas 2009: 30). From the way mandalas are created in buildings\nto represent the universe, to the dying practice of Sky Burials, to the sounds\nof prayer flags in the wind, we see how \u201cterritorial and spatial\ndimensions are intrinsically linked to the practice of\nreligion\u201d (Terrone 2014: 463).This\nis not religion that adheres primarily to specific doctrines, but is rather a\nform of religion incorporated into daily life through smaller practices and\nreflections of the landscape.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nThe Smell of the Cows<\/h3>\n\n\n\n Figure 31: Cows in the street in Kagbeni <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Cows in the morning<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nThroughout\nmy time in Kagbeni, I heard over and over about people who had left the town and\ncame back years later, or who now live elsewhere and visit as often as\npossible. I was surprised by the number of visitors I met in the month I was living\nthere, and how positively they reminisced about returning home. When I asked\npeople if they would want to return and live in Kagbeni instead of only\nvisiting, they said things like \u201cthat would be nice\u201d or \u201coh yes, I wish,\u201d but\nin a way that told me they never would. I became curious about why many people return\nto visit, but so few come back for good.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis question could be answered in part by looking at the factors limiting opportunities in Mustang, which is one of the main reasons people leave. Not surprisingly, the restriction of the region from the 1960s onwards played a large role in Mustang\u2019s ability to grow and change over time. Manjushree Thapa explains this dynamic:<\/p>\n\n\n\nRestriction had not kept Upper Mustang beyond the reach of the modern world. Rather, it had forced people out. No new sources of income had entered the area, nor had traditional occupations found means to grow. The history-book pattern \u2014 of farming in the spring, animal husbandry in the summer, and trading in the winter \u2014 had remained the same for centuries; it had stagnated (Thapa 2008: 80).<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis restriction was\naccentuated by Chinese policies to the North as well. Following 1959 and the\ninvasion of Tibet, \u201cChinese authorities had clamped down on the practice of\ngrazing of Nepali animals on Tibetan grassland\u201d (Thapa 2008: 51). This means\nthat there was less dung that could be used for fuel, less animal meat, and\nless revenue. Migratory grazing was no longer an option in the way it once was.\nThis policy of restriction is promoted as something that protects the culture\nand keeps the area as a living museum, but has evidently harmed Mustang greatly\nafter decades of not providing support to the region. Without opportunities beyond\nagriculture and tourism, people who have the means to leave do, and only some return.<\/p>\n\n\n\nIt\nquickly became clear to me upon arriving in Mustang that the locals are heavily\nimpacted by the land. We have already seen this to some extent in the way that\nbuildings are made, and the relationships between religion and landscape. This\narea north of the Himalayas is classified as high-altitude desert, with\nlow-lying trees sparsely spread along the gorge. The endangered blue sheep roam\nthe hillsides above 3500 meters, and Himalayan vultures occasionally fly\noverhead. Wind and water have shaped the Kali Gandaki gorge (which was once on\nthe bottom of the ocean floor), but they have also shaped the people who live\nwithin its walls. <\/p>\n\n\n\nTowards the end of my stay in Kagbeni, I had the opportunity to meet three siblings who are originally from the town but now live in New York City. They were a few years older than me. The sister had moved to the United States for school, and was working on a master\u2019s degree. When I met the siblings, they were visiting their mother and grandmother, and said that they would be in Mustang for two months before returning to the USA. They missed this place, they told me, and needed to get a break from the hectic lifestyle of the city. I began to tell them about my project, explaining that the idea started because I was curious about the relationship with people and place. The sister nodded and said \u201cthe people here, they really respect the land, you know? Not like in New York.\u201d It is clear that, in Kagbeni, much more attention is given to what comes from the land, and how people interact with the land on a daily basis. In New York City, the sister argued, this connection, this respect, was lost. This sentiment was communicated to me by other people I met, like Kunga, who took such pride in the fresh food of Kagbeni, and it made the cultural use of the land another site of differentiation for the people who spoke about Mustang. Just as with the political and geographic boundaries placed on Upper Mustang, statements like the sister\u2019s once again distance Mustang from other places, this time focusing on the people rather than the land. This is done by both outsiders as well as locals. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAnother friend \u2013 Mama \u2013 told me a similar story about another Loba who lived in New York for many years before returning to Kagbeni: \u201che just gave up everything and moved back here to Kagbeni… he just loved this place, man. The smell of the cows.\u201d As someone who lives in Kathmandu but returns to his home in Tiri (across the river from Kagbeni) a few times a year, Mama showed a sense of disbelief at the man in his story. He too had moved away, made a new life and started a family in the city. One of his brothers was living in New York, studying to be a photographer. And yet, they were both pulled back to Kagbeni and Tiri, just like the three siblings earlier. Mama may have laughed about the smells of the livestock, but even he admitted that he would like to visit more than he does. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the monastery, the monks provide another example of a lasting commitment to the Kagbeni community. The khenpo<\/em>, who also happens to be Mama\u2019s brother, was originally from Tiri and came back to head the monastery after receiving a higher level of monastic education in India. In addition, one of the younger monks, Dorje, was saw his role at the monastery as a service to his community. In his 20s, Dorje left Tiri for a few years to go to school and live in Kathmandu, but has since returned in order to give back to Kagbeni as the middle son of his family. Dorje explained that it is common for people from the surrounding towns to serve at the monastery for a few years, without the expectation that they would remain a monk. In his case, Dorje spent one year at the monastery before returning to Kathmandu for a year, and is now finishing his time at Kag Chode in a two-year segment. He prefers living in Kathmandu, like many other men around his age that I talked to, but also recognizes that it is nice to be out of the city and back where his family is from. When asked if he would continue to be a monk when his three years of service were over, Dorje admitted that he had not yet decided. <\/p>\n\n\n\nOne of my older\nstudents showed this commitment in a different way. In order to be ordained at\na higher level, monks in the Sakya sect must receive further schooling in\nIndia. Of the 64 students at Kag Chode, it is likely that only a few will\nfollow this path. As they get older, students often decide to disrobe and\nreenter lay society. Since the school provides both a monastic and secular\neducation, many families send their children there for the free education and\nhousing, knowing that their children will be able to succeed with the education\nwhether or not they remain as monks. When I talked to one student about his\nplans following his graduation, he told me that he wants to be ordained at a\nhigher level, which means going to India. After receiving this further\neducation, his goal is to return to Mustang and help run the gompa<\/em> and teach younger students. <\/p>\n\n\n\nPeople\nleave Mustang for school, better jobs, seasonal work, or other opportunities.\nThey come back for different seasonal work, festivals, or to visit family. Because\nthe winters are harsh in Mustang, many people leave for the season. While a few\nolder community members and children stay behind to keep the town running in\nthe coldest months, the majority of people find work or live elsewhere. The\nentire monastic school, for instance, picks up and moves to Pokhara for a few\nmonths. This seasonal migration is by no means a new phenomenon, and shows that\neven when Mustang was restricted to foreigners, people have always come and\ngone with some frequency. Their claim of being Loba, however, remains with\nthem. People living in Kathmandu identify where they are from or what their\nethnic background is when they talk about their life in the city, and they also\nlabel others in this way. For example, one trekking guide mentioned that he has\n\u201ca lot of Manangi friends.\u201d Manang is the region to the east of Mustang, and\neven if his friends live predominantly in Kathmandu, the guide still identifies\nthem as being from Manang. In the same way, people often refer to a place as\n\u201cmy village,\u201d even when they have lived in Kathmandu for most of their lives.\nAlong the same lines, people who live in Kathmandu almost never say that they\nare form Kathmandu. <\/p>\n\n\n\nClaiming\nthe identity of the village or region your family is from is common throughout\nNepal, and is in many ways related to the caste system and Hinduization in the\nPanchayat era. This is also in part due to the wide diversity of ethnic groups\nand languages in Nepal, and the original formation of the country in the 18th<\/sup>\ncentury as a unified kingdom made up of many smaller, previously distinct\ngroups. While people in Mustang are definitively Nepali, they have a deep\nconnection to their homeland. As with the gompa<\/em>\ndonor now living in Hong Kong, many people want to maintain a connection to the\nregion and support it when they can. In Mustang\nBhot in Fragments<\/em>, Manjushree Thapa tells the story of one man who lived in\nKathmandu many years before returning to Mustang, hoping to improve the area after\ngrowing accustomed to the ways of the city. When asked why he wanted to come\nback and work on developing the area, he responded \u201cthis is home. If we don\u2019t\nimprove it, who will?\u201d (Thapa 2008: 50). This statement not only shows the deep\nconnection that Loba have to their communities, it also implies that other\npeople cannot be counted on to improve life there. After a history of being let\ndown by the Nepali government and other development projects, it makes sense\nthat the community would take it into their own hands to build the road north\nto Tibet, to spur the possibility of more opportunities.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nTeam Tashi Delek<\/em><\/h3>\n\n\n\nUp until this point, there have been occasional points of friction between Nepali and Tibetan and Loba identities. In ethnicity, religion, culture, and language, people of Mustang appear to be closer to Tibet than Nepal. This perception is held by most Nepali citizens, both from Mustang and from elsewhere. At the same time, these borderland communities are still Nepali, learning the official language and singing the national anthem each day in school. One day in class at Kag Chode, I was working with the students to practice grouping words that use the same vowel sounds. I created teams, splitting the class in half, and asked what they wanted their team names to be. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Tashi Delek<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Namaste<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe students broke into laughter, pleased with the names they had chosen. <\/p>\n\n\n\nI bring up this moment with the students (this class was ages 10 through 12) because it points to a divide in how Loba people perceive themselves in relation to Nepal. Tashi<\/em> delek<\/em> and namaste<\/em> are Tibetan and Nepali words respectively, and are both used as greetings. The local language in Mustang is Loke, which is closely related to Tibetan. As a result, tashi delek<\/em> is almost always what you hear being tossed around as you walk through the streets. Namaste <\/em>is reserved for foreigners and other Nepalis. While children are taught both Nepali and English in school (in addition to Tibetan language at monastic schools), people primarily still speak in Loke in Kagbeni, rarely switching into Nepali or English unless there is another person around who speaks one of those languages. English, Nepali, and Tibetan music mingle in the streets of Kagbeni, as people play music to accompany the harvest, household chores, or evening downtime. Each language carries a different cadence, mediating spoken interactions between locals and others passing through.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis divide is in part due to the Nepali government\u2019s history of aid (or lack of it) in Mustang, but is also deeply rooted in the cultural identity of Mustang. The heart of this issue comes from the distance that is felt between what it means to be Nepali and what it means to be Tibetan, and finding a place somewhere in between. While giving myself and a Nepali business group from Kathmandu a tour of Kagbeni, Mama explained <\/p>\n\n\n\nUpper Mustang, Lower Mustang, we want to be called Tibetan, but we are not Tibetan. Tibetans are migratory people you know? But because I was born here I can say that I\u2019m Tibetan. Historically we wandered around place to place with the yaks looking for grass.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis points to the\ndivide between how Loba people see themselves and how other Tibetan and Nepali\ngroups see them. My friend explained that even though he is not \u2018Tibetan,\u2019 he\nstill identifies as being Tibetan, and does so proudly. Similar sentiments were\nexpressed to me by other people in Kagbeni. Throughout Kagbeni, and Upper\nMustang to the north, people align themselves more closely with Tibetan culture\nthan Nepali, while still maintaining their Nepali identity as well. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe royal family of Mustang provides a good example of the complicated relationship between Nepali and Tibetan identities. The family is said to be descended from Tibetan kings, yet today holds the surname Bista. This once again traces to the Rana regime and the following Panchayat era, in which \u201cof necessity, the [Loba] colonized themselves\u201d (Thapa 2008: 124). The name Bista comes from high-caste Hindu families originally, and was thus appropriated in order to increase the family\u2019s authority and recognition in the eyes of the Nepali government (Thapa 2008). Other Loba took on surnames in a similar way, often appropriating names of ethnic groups to the south of Mustang. While the Bistas are no longer recognized by the Nepali government today, they still hold social power in the region. One trekking guide who was originally from Lo Manthang told me that part of the reason the local people still respect and listen to the royal family is because \u201cit is past karma,\u201d so the people of Mustang just know to follow them. Whatever the reason, it became clear to me that the Loba put more trust and respect in the royal family of Mustang than the Nepali government.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBeyond language, there are other clear physical markers which point to the Loba being more in line with Tibetan culture. The clothing, buildings, and even the landscape of Upper Mustang all mirror that which is found in Tibet. While my friends from other regions of Nepal frequently spoke of wanting to travel to other regions of the country, the Loba I know in Kagbeni only ever spoke of wishing to visit Tibet. This is not purely for religious reasons, though going to pilgrimage sites such as Manasarovar lake certainly contributes to this desire. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThis closeness to Tibetan culture was further emphasized after 1959, when Mustang became a one of many settlement areas for Tibetan refugees \u201cdue to its close proximity to Tibetan territory, strong kinship and monastic relations with Tibetan populations and social\u2013physical landscape congruent to the Tibetan Plateau\u201d (Murton 2017: 538). Here, it is clear that the association between Mustang and Tibet goes past simply proximity or culture. In popular discourse, however, Mustang is still essentialized as being as close as you can get to \u201cauthentic\u201d Tibetan culture as it was before 1959. This perception is damaging for many reasons, and will be explored more in relation to tourism.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nReshaping Mustang<\/h3>\n\n\n\nMustang, Nepal has been\nshaped both internally and externally by religion and its relationship to\npolitics and culture. Buddhist and Bon structures have physically reshaped the\nlandscape, linking to mythology that maps onto it. These recreations of the\nland go back hundreds of years, to when Guru Rinpoche first came through the\nKali Gandaki in the 8th<\/sup> century. Bon influences on the land go back\neven further. The mingling of Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism has taken on ulterior\nmotives in the last century, however. Due to the governmental policies and lack\nof infrastructure in the region, Loba were pushed to either assimilate and\nbecome more recognizably \u201cNepali\u201d (meaning more Hindu), or leave for better\nopportunities elsewhere. The relationship with Tibet to the north was largely\nhalted as well, with only a trade fair in the summer remaining.<\/p>\n\n\n\nTurning\ntowards the tourism industry, the region is frequently characterized as a\nstronghold of Tibetan culture and religion, preserved by the restriction of the\nregion. Government policies, tourism agencies, and even museums point to\nMustang as being a special place in Nepal because of the presence of Tibetan\nBuddhism and Bon in its valleys. Kagbeni, on the border between Upper and Lower\nMustang, shows us that this popular essentialization of Loba people as purely\nreligious in many ways misinterprets the role of religion in daily life. Yes,\nsignals of Buddhism and Bon and Hinduism abound in the small town, and some\npeople do sit outside in the sun with prayer wheels spinning in their hands,\nbut this misses the complexity of the Kagbeni reality. Lives in Kagbeni are complicated and reshaped\nconstantly by the government, religions, and tourists intersecting within its\nspace. In the following chapter, I turn to look more closely at the impacts of\ntourism in and scholarship about Kagbeni and Upper Mustang.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTourism: Exceptionalism, Pilgrimage, and Romance<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Culture, Landscapes, and Identity Religious LandscapesThe Smell of the CowsTeam Tashi DelekReshaping Mustang Towards the end of my time in Kagbeni, I walked into the lounge area of the hotel I was living at to find Aama laying on one of the benches, reading quietly aloud to herself. Aama is the matriarch of the hotel, … Continue reading Religion<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3090,"featured_media":145,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-8","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3090"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8"}],"version-history":[{"count":18,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":368,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions\/368"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/145"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
Throughout my time in Kagbeni, Kunga routinely distanced himself from his own religiosity and connection to Loba culture when we talked. This could have been in part because I was only visiting, was there for research, and hadn\u2019t known him for long. The presence of religion or tradition in Kunga\u2019s life was always described in relation to others\u2019, such as when he informed me that people in Kagbeni, or in Lower Mustang, care much less about tradition than in Upper Mustang. He did not deny his beliefs, but always pointed to other people who he believed held more. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Even with this distancing, his life was not entirely absent of these things. It was often his phone which played the videos of pujas<\/em> in the kitchen, and he occasionally went to dance practices in preparation for a ceremony which would occur the following month. The pillars of his hotel are all marked with butter and herbs placed there by the monks, and a Bon guardian presides over the front entrance to the building. Buddhist ch\u00f6rtens<\/em> and their Bon counterparts are both found on the roof. One morning, I walked downstairs to find one of the older monks in the kitchen talking to the staff. Along with some of the other local hotel owners, Kunga occasionally went to the gompa<\/em> in order to meet with the khenpo<\/em> in preparation for the upcoming consecration ceremony.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n Figure 22: Butter and herbs placed on a pillar in a hotel <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\n Figure 23: Bon guardian over main entrance of a hotel <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n Figure 24: Three ch\u00f6rten<\/em> on a hotel rooftop with Nilgiri Mountain in the distance <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nThis distancing from religion is not unique\nto Kunga, who is now in his early 40s. The people who visit the gompa<\/em> most frequently are women Aama\u2019s\nage or older, often at the same time every day. Looking at the people who live\nin Kagbeni, there is a clear divide in the generations. Women above the age of\n40 most often wear the traditional Loba clothing, while younger women rarely\ndo. This shifts as you move northward up the Kali Gandaki closer to the capital\nof Lo, where more people wear the traditional Loba clothing. As Kunga\nexplained, this is because Upper and Lower\nMustang are very different, and that people like him down at the border between\nthe two in Kagbeni don\u2019t care as much about the traditional things. <\/p>\n\n\n\nKunga\u2019s comment about people becoming \u201cmore religious\u201d as they age points to a divide in how people think about religion. If religion is expected to be primarily text-based, then he is right that Aama is becoming more religious as she begins to read more Tibetan Buddhist teachings. This understanding of religion leaves out the impact that it has on every-day life. For lay people living in Kagbeni, the actual texts are not important. At the same time, students at the monastic school have classes on the dharma<\/em>, the teaching of the Buddha, and there is a ceremony that involves carrying the physical books of the Buddha\u2019s teachings around the boundaries of the town. In other words, the texts are not unimportant or irrelevant to the presence of religions in Kagbeni, but they are not the focus of lived religion there. Sound arguably becomes more important than the texts in this setting, as it reshapes the landscape and is used by monks and lay people alike. Whether or not lay people know the reason for the power in speaking certain words like om mani padme hum<\/em>, the phrase is a piece of daily interaction with the divine.<\/p>\n\n\n\nKagbeni lives at an interesting set of crossroads. There is the physical crossroads built by the government, bringing traders and trekkers north to Lo and pilgrims east to Muktinath. There is the cultural divide expressed by Kunga, separating Upper and Lower Mustang. This divide is not only about commitment to tradition, it also implicates the conflicting Nepali, Tibetan, and Loba identities. At the borders between these categories, people in Kagbeni are reshaped by the shifting factors every day. <\/p>\n\n\n\nReligious Landscapes<\/h3>\n\n\n\nThe primary religious influences found in Kagbeni are Tibetan Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism. All three mingle and overlap, sharing sites, beliefs, and practitioners. In all three, the landscape is an essential feature. Landmarks like mountains are said to be the homes of gods, and the convergences of rivers are sacred spaces. These religious landmarks in turn map onto real physical locations, allowing spiritual authority over key sacred sites to be translated into political power (Ramble 1995: 93). Upper Mustang presents a good example of this relationships between sacred and political space, as Lo Manthang is also the seat of a principal territorial deity in local cosmologies, and the surrounding areas are home to lesser gods (Ramble 1995: 91). The seat of political power in the region is also the seat of religious power. This dynamic of mapping religion onto the landscape is not unique to Kagbeni nor to the religions present there, yet it remains an important aspect of the Tibetan Buddhist and Bon ontologies. In addition to the daily practices of spinning prayer wheels or attending to the household gods, this shows us that the entire landscape of Mustang is covered in and changed by interactions with religion.<\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the river\nconvergence south of the gompa<\/em>, a\nsmall park of sorts holds both Hindu and Buddhist shrines. Hindu pilgrims and\nnovice monks from the monastic school wash themselves in the water as the smoke\nfrom incense flows over them. The prayer wall in the gompa<\/em> complex stretches down the bank, right to where the two\nrivers meet. Prayer flags are wrapped in tree branches and hang from the\nbridge. This site \u2013 right next to the main road through town \u2013 claims the\nattention of passers-by. It\u2019s colorful, loud, and often bustling with activity.\nBells are rung by pilgrims passing through, mingling with the beeping horns of\njeeps and the Bollywood music spilling from the windows of buses. Along with\nthe ch\u00f6rtens<\/em> in the streets and the\nmonastic school up the road, it is what most people passing through would point\nto as markers of \nKagbeni\u2019s religious nature. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n Figure 25: Incense burning at the convergence of the rivers <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\n Figure 26: Prayer flags lining a bridge over the Kali Gandaki <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nAn emphasis on\nphysical, visual, markings on the landscape negates the way the landscape of\nMustang has been shaped for centuries by various mythologies and sonic\nvibrations that claim space. In the Tibetan\nBuddhist ontology, \u201cTibetan architecture, landscape, and religious\nbeliefs are woven together, forming a sacred realm. The theme of the mandala is\npresent everywhere one goes; as a spiritual vehicle and a general model\u201d\n(Xu 2010: 182). The ch\u00f6rten<\/em> is one\nstructure which weaves together these themes into the form of a mandala. As Xu\nexplains, the physical structure of a ch\u00f6rten<\/em>\nis a three-dimensional representation of a mandala, a model of the universe.\nThese structures are sprinkled across the landscape of Mustang, and throughout\nKagbeni. Varying in size and style, they are reminders of the nature of the\nuniverse, and \u201cof the spiritual realm in which Mustang is embedded\u201d (Bubriski\net al. 2018: 19). Similarly, the music used in pujas creates a mandala through\nthe way sound is created (Ellingson 1979).<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\nFigure 27: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> with paintings inside in the middle of a Kagbeni street <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\n Figure 28: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> and communal washing area in a Kagbeni street <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n Figure 29: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> at the end of a prayer wall on the peninsula between the two rivers <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nBecause of this\nemphasis on the land as being a home to deities and itself a mandala, Tibetan\nBuddhist teachings often emphasize the proper use of land in order to prevent\npollution, especially of water resources. For example, by describing how a\ntoilet should be built to promote a healthy environment, or promoting the\nplanting of trees to prevent deforestation (Vigoda 1989: 26). While water is\ngenerally sacred, or purifying, in the Tibetan landscape it takes on the\nadditional context of being scarce, and thus even more important for sustaining\nlife. <\/p>\n\n\n\nOne practice\nfrequently associated with Mustang is Sky Burial. This death ritual is often\ndescribed in documentaries and tourism materials as something that keeps\nMustang linked to the past. Vigoda explains that this is yet another example of\na religious practice reacting to the conditions of the environment. She says:<\/p>\n\n\n\n[Sky Burial] is carried out at the tops of hills and mountains, where bodies are chopped up and fed to the birds\u2026 [it] is indicative of how the lack of natural resources, and the Buddhist idea of the interdependence of all things, are manifested in a religious custom (Vigoda 1989: 29). <\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nIn recent years, however, the practice has\ndied out almost completely. There are a few reasons for this. First, Himalayan\nVultures are now an endangered species. These giant birds who once played a\nlarge role in disposing of corpses were impacted by the use of DDT in India,\nand have thus decreased in population considerably. I noticed a distinct lack\nof vultures on my second visit to Mustang in 2018, whereas my group had\ngleefully spotted a few of the birds two years before. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe second reason for\nthe deemphasis on Sky Burials is linked to global trends of modernization.\nTraditional practices, especially around death, are often looked down on or\nseen as backward by more powerful, \u2018modern\u2019 or \u2018developed\u2019 countries. Even\nthough Mustang is remote and difficult to navigate, it has been linked to trade\nnetworks for hundreds of years. Many of the wealthier families in Mustang have\nhouses in Kathmandu as well, and often travel outside the region. Seasonal jobs\nbring people to India and Tibet for trade or construction work, and children\nare often sent to school in Pokhara or Kathmandu. As a result, there are many\nways that the communities of Mustang are shaped by global trends, even without\ntaking the impact of tourism into consideration. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the same time, the\nimagination of Mustang as a stronghold of Tibetan culture is one of the main\ndraws for tourism in the region, and there are many groups which are trying to\npreserve the culture of the region. The perception that Mustang\u2019s culture and\nlanguage is unique and under attack by globalization and modernization is\nprevalent among NGOs internal and external to Nepal. While there are some\ngroups like the American Himalayan Foundation that strive towards cultural\npreservation, Sky Burials are not the focus of preservation initiatives. On the\nother hand, the few Sky Burials that do still happen today have become a draw\nfor tourists who want to see a different culture in action; preservation for\nthe sake of tourism has a different sort of friction. <\/p>\n\n\n\nWhile the Buddha\u2019s\nteachings make an impact on practitioners\u2019 relationship to the land, so does\nthe presence of the other deities in the Tibetan Buddhist and Bon cosmologies.\nThese deities inhabit the sky, atmosphere, and earth, and can be both\nbenevolent and wrathful (25). The domains of these deities recognized in\nTibetan Buddhism and Bon map onto the physical landscape of Mustang, and are\nmirrored by the structures built. In Mustang, the emphasis is placed most\nheavily on the mythology of Guru Padmasambhava, or Guru Rinpoche. In fact, the\nfigure of Guru Rinpoche is more important than that of the Buddha, and it is\nhis likeness that sits at the altar of some monasteries. <\/p>\n\n\n\nMuktinath, the\npilgrimage site to the east of Kagbeni, is one site where Guru Padmasambhava is\nsaid to have stopped, thus making it an important Buddhist site in addition to its\nimportance for Hindu pilgrims. A few days\u2019 walk north, outside of Gami village,\nthe longest mani<\/em> wall in Nepal sprawls\nacross a plateau, marking the site of a battle between Guru Padmasambhava and a\ndemoness. The canyon walls are blue and red with her blood, and a ch\u00f6rten<\/em> built in the 8th<\/sup>\ncentury safeguards her heart, cut out by Guru Padmasambhava. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Figure 30: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> north of Gami, where the demoness\u2019 heart is kept <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nIn addition to shaping the physical environment with ch\u00f6rtens<\/em>, monasteries, sound, and prayer flags, much of Tibetan Buddhism focuses on turning inwards. In the harsh landscape of high-altitude desert, methods of self-realization are emphasized in order to have a chance of escaping samsara<\/em>, the cycle of rebirth, in a future life (Gualtieri 1983: 170-1). As discussed above, this often involves sensory contact with mantras, whether it be chanting them or carving or painting them on rock walls. Peter Crossley-Holland explains another aspect of the mantra\u2019s significance. According to him, \u201ca mantra is a symbol for the divine being it is said to embody, but it is also believed to be more than that: it is believed to be an actual emanation from that being, and so an aspect of it\u201d (Crossley-Holland 1976: 50). Following this logic, sensory interaction with a mantra is interaction with the divine. Similarly, the mantras written all over the landscape help to cloak it in the presence of the divine.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis ability of the mantra to reshape the landscape is exemplified further in the prayer flags hung from high surfaces all across Tibetan Buddhist communities. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Prayer flags in the wind<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nFigure 31: Prayer flags flapping in the wind <\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\nMy friend Sherab explained to me that the Buddhist prayer flags are hung in the windiest places, because every time they flap they send the mantra written on them out into the world. As discussed earlier, mantras have the ability to reshape people and places through sensory contact. Imagine a line of flags, whipping back and forth. With each movement, waves of vibrations are carried across the landscape, spreading the mantra written on their threads as far as the wind will carry it. These waves of vibrations create sounds, too [sound clip of flags in the wind]. In his study of voice, place, and identity in Kenya, Andrew Eisenberg writes about the territoriality of sound, the ways that sounds can create social space based on how far they travel and who interacts with them. He argues that \u201csonic practices territorialize by virtue of combining physical vibration with bodily sensation and culturally conditioned meanings\u201d (2015: 199). As the prayer flags send out their vibrations in the wind, they shape the landscape around them into a sacred space, from which liberation becomes more accessible. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe\nphysical vibrations emanating from flags reminds us how religious icons and\ntexts have the ability to transform \u201cthe ordinary, coarse world into an\nextraordinary realm of spiritual wisdom and compassion\u201d (Farkas 2009: 30). From the way mandalas are created in buildings\nto represent the universe, to the dying practice of Sky Burials, to the sounds\nof prayer flags in the wind, we see how \u201cterritorial and spatial\ndimensions are intrinsically linked to the practice of\nreligion\u201d (Terrone 2014: 463).This\nis not religion that adheres primarily to specific doctrines, but is rather a\nform of religion incorporated into daily life through smaller practices and\nreflections of the landscape.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nThe Smell of the Cows<\/h3>\n\n\n\n Figure 31: Cows in the street in Kagbeni <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Cows in the morning<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nThroughout\nmy time in Kagbeni, I heard over and over about people who had left the town and\ncame back years later, or who now live elsewhere and visit as often as\npossible. I was surprised by the number of visitors I met in the month I was living\nthere, and how positively they reminisced about returning home. When I asked\npeople if they would want to return and live in Kagbeni instead of only\nvisiting, they said things like \u201cthat would be nice\u201d or \u201coh yes, I wish,\u201d but\nin a way that told me they never would. I became curious about why many people return\nto visit, but so few come back for good.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis question could be answered in part by looking at the factors limiting opportunities in Mustang, which is one of the main reasons people leave. Not surprisingly, the restriction of the region from the 1960s onwards played a large role in Mustang\u2019s ability to grow and change over time. Manjushree Thapa explains this dynamic:<\/p>\n\n\n\nRestriction had not kept Upper Mustang beyond the reach of the modern world. Rather, it had forced people out. No new sources of income had entered the area, nor had traditional occupations found means to grow. The history-book pattern \u2014 of farming in the spring, animal husbandry in the summer, and trading in the winter \u2014 had remained the same for centuries; it had stagnated (Thapa 2008: 80).<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis restriction was\naccentuated by Chinese policies to the North as well. Following 1959 and the\ninvasion of Tibet, \u201cChinese authorities had clamped down on the practice of\ngrazing of Nepali animals on Tibetan grassland\u201d (Thapa 2008: 51). This means\nthat there was less dung that could be used for fuel, less animal meat, and\nless revenue. Migratory grazing was no longer an option in the way it once was.\nThis policy of restriction is promoted as something that protects the culture\nand keeps the area as a living museum, but has evidently harmed Mustang greatly\nafter decades of not providing support to the region. Without opportunities beyond\nagriculture and tourism, people who have the means to leave do, and only some return.<\/p>\n\n\n\nIt\nquickly became clear to me upon arriving in Mustang that the locals are heavily\nimpacted by the land. We have already seen this to some extent in the way that\nbuildings are made, and the relationships between religion and landscape. This\narea north of the Himalayas is classified as high-altitude desert, with\nlow-lying trees sparsely spread along the gorge. The endangered blue sheep roam\nthe hillsides above 3500 meters, and Himalayan vultures occasionally fly\noverhead. Wind and water have shaped the Kali Gandaki gorge (which was once on\nthe bottom of the ocean floor), but they have also shaped the people who live\nwithin its walls. <\/p>\n\n\n\nTowards the end of my stay in Kagbeni, I had the opportunity to meet three siblings who are originally from the town but now live in New York City. They were a few years older than me. The sister had moved to the United States for school, and was working on a master\u2019s degree. When I met the siblings, they were visiting their mother and grandmother, and said that they would be in Mustang for two months before returning to the USA. They missed this place, they told me, and needed to get a break from the hectic lifestyle of the city. I began to tell them about my project, explaining that the idea started because I was curious about the relationship with people and place. The sister nodded and said \u201cthe people here, they really respect the land, you know? Not like in New York.\u201d It is clear that, in Kagbeni, much more attention is given to what comes from the land, and how people interact with the land on a daily basis. In New York City, the sister argued, this connection, this respect, was lost. This sentiment was communicated to me by other people I met, like Kunga, who took such pride in the fresh food of Kagbeni, and it made the cultural use of the land another site of differentiation for the people who spoke about Mustang. Just as with the political and geographic boundaries placed on Upper Mustang, statements like the sister\u2019s once again distance Mustang from other places, this time focusing on the people rather than the land. This is done by both outsiders as well as locals. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAnother friend \u2013 Mama \u2013 told me a similar story about another Loba who lived in New York for many years before returning to Kagbeni: \u201che just gave up everything and moved back here to Kagbeni… he just loved this place, man. The smell of the cows.\u201d As someone who lives in Kathmandu but returns to his home in Tiri (across the river from Kagbeni) a few times a year, Mama showed a sense of disbelief at the man in his story. He too had moved away, made a new life and started a family in the city. One of his brothers was living in New York, studying to be a photographer. And yet, they were both pulled back to Kagbeni and Tiri, just like the three siblings earlier. Mama may have laughed about the smells of the livestock, but even he admitted that he would like to visit more than he does. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the monastery, the monks provide another example of a lasting commitment to the Kagbeni community. The khenpo<\/em>, who also happens to be Mama\u2019s brother, was originally from Tiri and came back to head the monastery after receiving a higher level of monastic education in India. In addition, one of the younger monks, Dorje, was saw his role at the monastery as a service to his community. In his 20s, Dorje left Tiri for a few years to go to school and live in Kathmandu, but has since returned in order to give back to Kagbeni as the middle son of his family. Dorje explained that it is common for people from the surrounding towns to serve at the monastery for a few years, without the expectation that they would remain a monk. In his case, Dorje spent one year at the monastery before returning to Kathmandu for a year, and is now finishing his time at Kag Chode in a two-year segment. He prefers living in Kathmandu, like many other men around his age that I talked to, but also recognizes that it is nice to be out of the city and back where his family is from. When asked if he would continue to be a monk when his three years of service were over, Dorje admitted that he had not yet decided. <\/p>\n\n\n\nOne of my older\nstudents showed this commitment in a different way. In order to be ordained at\na higher level, monks in the Sakya sect must receive further schooling in\nIndia. Of the 64 students at Kag Chode, it is likely that only a few will\nfollow this path. As they get older, students often decide to disrobe and\nreenter lay society. Since the school provides both a monastic and secular\neducation, many families send their children there for the free education and\nhousing, knowing that their children will be able to succeed with the education\nwhether or not they remain as monks. When I talked to one student about his\nplans following his graduation, he told me that he wants to be ordained at a\nhigher level, which means going to India. After receiving this further\neducation, his goal is to return to Mustang and help run the gompa<\/em> and teach younger students. <\/p>\n\n\n\nPeople\nleave Mustang for school, better jobs, seasonal work, or other opportunities.\nThey come back for different seasonal work, festivals, or to visit family. Because\nthe winters are harsh in Mustang, many people leave for the season. While a few\nolder community members and children stay behind to keep the town running in\nthe coldest months, the majority of people find work or live elsewhere. The\nentire monastic school, for instance, picks up and moves to Pokhara for a few\nmonths. This seasonal migration is by no means a new phenomenon, and shows that\neven when Mustang was restricted to foreigners, people have always come and\ngone with some frequency. Their claim of being Loba, however, remains with\nthem. People living in Kathmandu identify where they are from or what their\nethnic background is when they talk about their life in the city, and they also\nlabel others in this way. For example, one trekking guide mentioned that he has\n\u201ca lot of Manangi friends.\u201d Manang is the region to the east of Mustang, and\neven if his friends live predominantly in Kathmandu, the guide still identifies\nthem as being from Manang. In the same way, people often refer to a place as\n\u201cmy village,\u201d even when they have lived in Kathmandu for most of their lives.\nAlong the same lines, people who live in Kathmandu almost never say that they\nare form Kathmandu. <\/p>\n\n\n\nClaiming\nthe identity of the village or region your family is from is common throughout\nNepal, and is in many ways related to the caste system and Hinduization in the\nPanchayat era. This is also in part due to the wide diversity of ethnic groups\nand languages in Nepal, and the original formation of the country in the 18th<\/sup>\ncentury as a unified kingdom made up of many smaller, previously distinct\ngroups. While people in Mustang are definitively Nepali, they have a deep\nconnection to their homeland. As with the gompa<\/em>\ndonor now living in Hong Kong, many people want to maintain a connection to the\nregion and support it when they can. In Mustang\nBhot in Fragments<\/em>, Manjushree Thapa tells the story of one man who lived in\nKathmandu many years before returning to Mustang, hoping to improve the area after\ngrowing accustomed to the ways of the city. When asked why he wanted to come\nback and work on developing the area, he responded \u201cthis is home. If we don\u2019t\nimprove it, who will?\u201d (Thapa 2008: 50). This statement not only shows the deep\nconnection that Loba have to their communities, it also implies that other\npeople cannot be counted on to improve life there. After a history of being let\ndown by the Nepali government and other development projects, it makes sense\nthat the community would take it into their own hands to build the road north\nto Tibet, to spur the possibility of more opportunities.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nTeam Tashi Delek<\/em><\/h3>\n\n\n\nUp until this point, there have been occasional points of friction between Nepali and Tibetan and Loba identities. In ethnicity, religion, culture, and language, people of Mustang appear to be closer to Tibet than Nepal. This perception is held by most Nepali citizens, both from Mustang and from elsewhere. At the same time, these borderland communities are still Nepali, learning the official language and singing the national anthem each day in school. One day in class at Kag Chode, I was working with the students to practice grouping words that use the same vowel sounds. I created teams, splitting the class in half, and asked what they wanted their team names to be. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Tashi Delek<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Namaste<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe students broke into laughter, pleased with the names they had chosen. <\/p>\n\n\n\nI bring up this moment with the students (this class was ages 10 through 12) because it points to a divide in how Loba people perceive themselves in relation to Nepal. Tashi<\/em> delek<\/em> and namaste<\/em> are Tibetan and Nepali words respectively, and are both used as greetings. The local language in Mustang is Loke, which is closely related to Tibetan. As a result, tashi delek<\/em> is almost always what you hear being tossed around as you walk through the streets. Namaste <\/em>is reserved for foreigners and other Nepalis. While children are taught both Nepali and English in school (in addition to Tibetan language at monastic schools), people primarily still speak in Loke in Kagbeni, rarely switching into Nepali or English unless there is another person around who speaks one of those languages. English, Nepali, and Tibetan music mingle in the streets of Kagbeni, as people play music to accompany the harvest, household chores, or evening downtime. Each language carries a different cadence, mediating spoken interactions between locals and others passing through.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis divide is in part due to the Nepali government\u2019s history of aid (or lack of it) in Mustang, but is also deeply rooted in the cultural identity of Mustang. The heart of this issue comes from the distance that is felt between what it means to be Nepali and what it means to be Tibetan, and finding a place somewhere in between. While giving myself and a Nepali business group from Kathmandu a tour of Kagbeni, Mama explained <\/p>\n\n\n\nUpper Mustang, Lower Mustang, we want to be called Tibetan, but we are not Tibetan. Tibetans are migratory people you know? But because I was born here I can say that I\u2019m Tibetan. Historically we wandered around place to place with the yaks looking for grass.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis points to the\ndivide between how Loba people see themselves and how other Tibetan and Nepali\ngroups see them. My friend explained that even though he is not \u2018Tibetan,\u2019 he\nstill identifies as being Tibetan, and does so proudly. Similar sentiments were\nexpressed to me by other people in Kagbeni. Throughout Kagbeni, and Upper\nMustang to the north, people align themselves more closely with Tibetan culture\nthan Nepali, while still maintaining their Nepali identity as well. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe royal family of Mustang provides a good example of the complicated relationship between Nepali and Tibetan identities. The family is said to be descended from Tibetan kings, yet today holds the surname Bista. This once again traces to the Rana regime and the following Panchayat era, in which \u201cof necessity, the [Loba] colonized themselves\u201d (Thapa 2008: 124). The name Bista comes from high-caste Hindu families originally, and was thus appropriated in order to increase the family\u2019s authority and recognition in the eyes of the Nepali government (Thapa 2008). Other Loba took on surnames in a similar way, often appropriating names of ethnic groups to the south of Mustang. While the Bistas are no longer recognized by the Nepali government today, they still hold social power in the region. One trekking guide who was originally from Lo Manthang told me that part of the reason the local people still respect and listen to the royal family is because \u201cit is past karma,\u201d so the people of Mustang just know to follow them. Whatever the reason, it became clear to me that the Loba put more trust and respect in the royal family of Mustang than the Nepali government.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBeyond language, there are other clear physical markers which point to the Loba being more in line with Tibetan culture. The clothing, buildings, and even the landscape of Upper Mustang all mirror that which is found in Tibet. While my friends from other regions of Nepal frequently spoke of wanting to travel to other regions of the country, the Loba I know in Kagbeni only ever spoke of wishing to visit Tibet. This is not purely for religious reasons, though going to pilgrimage sites such as Manasarovar lake certainly contributes to this desire. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThis closeness to Tibetan culture was further emphasized after 1959, when Mustang became a one of many settlement areas for Tibetan refugees \u201cdue to its close proximity to Tibetan territory, strong kinship and monastic relations with Tibetan populations and social\u2013physical landscape congruent to the Tibetan Plateau\u201d (Murton 2017: 538). Here, it is clear that the association between Mustang and Tibet goes past simply proximity or culture. In popular discourse, however, Mustang is still essentialized as being as close as you can get to \u201cauthentic\u201d Tibetan culture as it was before 1959. This perception is damaging for many reasons, and will be explored more in relation to tourism.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nReshaping Mustang<\/h3>\n\n\n\nMustang, Nepal has been\nshaped both internally and externally by religion and its relationship to\npolitics and culture. Buddhist and Bon structures have physically reshaped the\nlandscape, linking to mythology that maps onto it. These recreations of the\nland go back hundreds of years, to when Guru Rinpoche first came through the\nKali Gandaki in the 8th<\/sup> century. Bon influences on the land go back\neven further. The mingling of Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism has taken on ulterior\nmotives in the last century, however. Due to the governmental policies and lack\nof infrastructure in the region, Loba were pushed to either assimilate and\nbecome more recognizably \u201cNepali\u201d (meaning more Hindu), or leave for better\nopportunities elsewhere. The relationship with Tibet to the north was largely\nhalted as well, with only a trade fair in the summer remaining.<\/p>\n\n\n\nTurning\ntowards the tourism industry, the region is frequently characterized as a\nstronghold of Tibetan culture and religion, preserved by the restriction of the\nregion. Government policies, tourism agencies, and even museums point to\nMustang as being a special place in Nepal because of the presence of Tibetan\nBuddhism and Bon in its valleys. Kagbeni, on the border between Upper and Lower\nMustang, shows us that this popular essentialization of Loba people as purely\nreligious in many ways misinterprets the role of religion in daily life. Yes,\nsignals of Buddhism and Bon and Hinduism abound in the small town, and some\npeople do sit outside in the sun with prayer wheels spinning in their hands,\nbut this misses the complexity of the Kagbeni reality. Lives in Kagbeni are complicated and reshaped\nconstantly by the government, religions, and tourists intersecting within its\nspace. In the following chapter, I turn to look more closely at the impacts of\ntourism in and scholarship about Kagbeni and Upper Mustang.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTourism: Exceptionalism, Pilgrimage, and Romance<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Culture, Landscapes, and Identity Religious LandscapesThe Smell of the CowsTeam Tashi DelekReshaping Mustang Towards the end of my time in Kagbeni, I walked into the lounge area of the hotel I was living at to find Aama laying on one of the benches, reading quietly aloud to herself. Aama is the matriarch of the hotel, … Continue reading Religion<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3090,"featured_media":145,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-8","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3090"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8"}],"version-history":[{"count":18,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":368,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions\/368"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/145"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n Figure 24: Three ch\u00f6rten<\/em> on a hotel rooftop with Nilgiri Mountain in the distance <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nThis distancing from religion is not unique\nto Kunga, who is now in his early 40s. The people who visit the gompa<\/em> most frequently are women Aama\u2019s\nage or older, often at the same time every day. Looking at the people who live\nin Kagbeni, there is a clear divide in the generations. Women above the age of\n40 most often wear the traditional Loba clothing, while younger women rarely\ndo. This shifts as you move northward up the Kali Gandaki closer to the capital\nof Lo, where more people wear the traditional Loba clothing. As Kunga\nexplained, this is because Upper and Lower\nMustang are very different, and that people like him down at the border between\nthe two in Kagbeni don\u2019t care as much about the traditional things. <\/p>\n\n\n\nKunga\u2019s comment about people becoming \u201cmore religious\u201d as they age points to a divide in how people think about religion. If religion is expected to be primarily text-based, then he is right that Aama is becoming more religious as she begins to read more Tibetan Buddhist teachings. This understanding of religion leaves out the impact that it has on every-day life. For lay people living in Kagbeni, the actual texts are not important. At the same time, students at the monastic school have classes on the dharma<\/em>, the teaching of the Buddha, and there is a ceremony that involves carrying the physical books of the Buddha\u2019s teachings around the boundaries of the town. In other words, the texts are not unimportant or irrelevant to the presence of religions in Kagbeni, but they are not the focus of lived religion there. Sound arguably becomes more important than the texts in this setting, as it reshapes the landscape and is used by monks and lay people alike. Whether or not lay people know the reason for the power in speaking certain words like om mani padme hum<\/em>, the phrase is a piece of daily interaction with the divine.<\/p>\n\n\n\nKagbeni lives at an interesting set of crossroads. There is the physical crossroads built by the government, bringing traders and trekkers north to Lo and pilgrims east to Muktinath. There is the cultural divide expressed by Kunga, separating Upper and Lower Mustang. This divide is not only about commitment to tradition, it also implicates the conflicting Nepali, Tibetan, and Loba identities. At the borders between these categories, people in Kagbeni are reshaped by the shifting factors every day. <\/p>\n\n\n\nReligious Landscapes<\/h3>\n\n\n\nThe primary religious influences found in Kagbeni are Tibetan Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism. All three mingle and overlap, sharing sites, beliefs, and practitioners. In all three, the landscape is an essential feature. Landmarks like mountains are said to be the homes of gods, and the convergences of rivers are sacred spaces. These religious landmarks in turn map onto real physical locations, allowing spiritual authority over key sacred sites to be translated into political power (Ramble 1995: 93). Upper Mustang presents a good example of this relationships between sacred and political space, as Lo Manthang is also the seat of a principal territorial deity in local cosmologies, and the surrounding areas are home to lesser gods (Ramble 1995: 91). The seat of political power in the region is also the seat of religious power. This dynamic of mapping religion onto the landscape is not unique to Kagbeni nor to the religions present there, yet it remains an important aspect of the Tibetan Buddhist and Bon ontologies. In addition to the daily practices of spinning prayer wheels or attending to the household gods, this shows us that the entire landscape of Mustang is covered in and changed by interactions with religion.<\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the river\nconvergence south of the gompa<\/em>, a\nsmall park of sorts holds both Hindu and Buddhist shrines. Hindu pilgrims and\nnovice monks from the monastic school wash themselves in the water as the smoke\nfrom incense flows over them. The prayer wall in the gompa<\/em> complex stretches down the bank, right to where the two\nrivers meet. Prayer flags are wrapped in tree branches and hang from the\nbridge. This site \u2013 right next to the main road through town \u2013 claims the\nattention of passers-by. It\u2019s colorful, loud, and often bustling with activity.\nBells are rung by pilgrims passing through, mingling with the beeping horns of\njeeps and the Bollywood music spilling from the windows of buses. Along with\nthe ch\u00f6rtens<\/em> in the streets and the\nmonastic school up the road, it is what most people passing through would point\nto as markers of \nKagbeni\u2019s religious nature. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n Figure 25: Incense burning at the convergence of the rivers <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\n Figure 26: Prayer flags lining a bridge over the Kali Gandaki <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nAn emphasis on\nphysical, visual, markings on the landscape negates the way the landscape of\nMustang has been shaped for centuries by various mythologies and sonic\nvibrations that claim space. In the Tibetan\nBuddhist ontology, \u201cTibetan architecture, landscape, and religious\nbeliefs are woven together, forming a sacred realm. The theme of the mandala is\npresent everywhere one goes; as a spiritual vehicle and a general model\u201d\n(Xu 2010: 182). The ch\u00f6rten<\/em> is one\nstructure which weaves together these themes into the form of a mandala. As Xu\nexplains, the physical structure of a ch\u00f6rten<\/em>\nis a three-dimensional representation of a mandala, a model of the universe.\nThese structures are sprinkled across the landscape of Mustang, and throughout\nKagbeni. Varying in size and style, they are reminders of the nature of the\nuniverse, and \u201cof the spiritual realm in which Mustang is embedded\u201d (Bubriski\net al. 2018: 19). Similarly, the music used in pujas creates a mandala through\nthe way sound is created (Ellingson 1979).<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\nFigure 27: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> with paintings inside in the middle of a Kagbeni street <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\n Figure 28: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> and communal washing area in a Kagbeni street <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n Figure 29: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> at the end of a prayer wall on the peninsula between the two rivers <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nBecause of this\nemphasis on the land as being a home to deities and itself a mandala, Tibetan\nBuddhist teachings often emphasize the proper use of land in order to prevent\npollution, especially of water resources. For example, by describing how a\ntoilet should be built to promote a healthy environment, or promoting the\nplanting of trees to prevent deforestation (Vigoda 1989: 26). While water is\ngenerally sacred, or purifying, in the Tibetan landscape it takes on the\nadditional context of being scarce, and thus even more important for sustaining\nlife. <\/p>\n\n\n\nOne practice\nfrequently associated with Mustang is Sky Burial. This death ritual is often\ndescribed in documentaries and tourism materials as something that keeps\nMustang linked to the past. Vigoda explains that this is yet another example of\na religious practice reacting to the conditions of the environment. She says:<\/p>\n\n\n\n[Sky Burial] is carried out at the tops of hills and mountains, where bodies are chopped up and fed to the birds\u2026 [it] is indicative of how the lack of natural resources, and the Buddhist idea of the interdependence of all things, are manifested in a religious custom (Vigoda 1989: 29). <\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nIn recent years, however, the practice has\ndied out almost completely. There are a few reasons for this. First, Himalayan\nVultures are now an endangered species. These giant birds who once played a\nlarge role in disposing of corpses were impacted by the use of DDT in India,\nand have thus decreased in population considerably. I noticed a distinct lack\nof vultures on my second visit to Mustang in 2018, whereas my group had\ngleefully spotted a few of the birds two years before. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe second reason for\nthe deemphasis on Sky Burials is linked to global trends of modernization.\nTraditional practices, especially around death, are often looked down on or\nseen as backward by more powerful, \u2018modern\u2019 or \u2018developed\u2019 countries. Even\nthough Mustang is remote and difficult to navigate, it has been linked to trade\nnetworks for hundreds of years. Many of the wealthier families in Mustang have\nhouses in Kathmandu as well, and often travel outside the region. Seasonal jobs\nbring people to India and Tibet for trade or construction work, and children\nare often sent to school in Pokhara or Kathmandu. As a result, there are many\nways that the communities of Mustang are shaped by global trends, even without\ntaking the impact of tourism into consideration. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the same time, the\nimagination of Mustang as a stronghold of Tibetan culture is one of the main\ndraws for tourism in the region, and there are many groups which are trying to\npreserve the culture of the region. The perception that Mustang\u2019s culture and\nlanguage is unique and under attack by globalization and modernization is\nprevalent among NGOs internal and external to Nepal. While there are some\ngroups like the American Himalayan Foundation that strive towards cultural\npreservation, Sky Burials are not the focus of preservation initiatives. On the\nother hand, the few Sky Burials that do still happen today have become a draw\nfor tourists who want to see a different culture in action; preservation for\nthe sake of tourism has a different sort of friction. <\/p>\n\n\n\nWhile the Buddha\u2019s\nteachings make an impact on practitioners\u2019 relationship to the land, so does\nthe presence of the other deities in the Tibetan Buddhist and Bon cosmologies.\nThese deities inhabit the sky, atmosphere, and earth, and can be both\nbenevolent and wrathful (25). The domains of these deities recognized in\nTibetan Buddhism and Bon map onto the physical landscape of Mustang, and are\nmirrored by the structures built. In Mustang, the emphasis is placed most\nheavily on the mythology of Guru Padmasambhava, or Guru Rinpoche. In fact, the\nfigure of Guru Rinpoche is more important than that of the Buddha, and it is\nhis likeness that sits at the altar of some monasteries. <\/p>\n\n\n\nMuktinath, the\npilgrimage site to the east of Kagbeni, is one site where Guru Padmasambhava is\nsaid to have stopped, thus making it an important Buddhist site in addition to its\nimportance for Hindu pilgrims. A few days\u2019 walk north, outside of Gami village,\nthe longest mani<\/em> wall in Nepal sprawls\nacross a plateau, marking the site of a battle between Guru Padmasambhava and a\ndemoness. The canyon walls are blue and red with her blood, and a ch\u00f6rten<\/em> built in the 8th<\/sup>\ncentury safeguards her heart, cut out by Guru Padmasambhava. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Figure 30: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> north of Gami, where the demoness\u2019 heart is kept <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nIn addition to shaping the physical environment with ch\u00f6rtens<\/em>, monasteries, sound, and prayer flags, much of Tibetan Buddhism focuses on turning inwards. In the harsh landscape of high-altitude desert, methods of self-realization are emphasized in order to have a chance of escaping samsara<\/em>, the cycle of rebirth, in a future life (Gualtieri 1983: 170-1). As discussed above, this often involves sensory contact with mantras, whether it be chanting them or carving or painting them on rock walls. Peter Crossley-Holland explains another aspect of the mantra\u2019s significance. According to him, \u201ca mantra is a symbol for the divine being it is said to embody, but it is also believed to be more than that: it is believed to be an actual emanation from that being, and so an aspect of it\u201d (Crossley-Holland 1976: 50). Following this logic, sensory interaction with a mantra is interaction with the divine. Similarly, the mantras written all over the landscape help to cloak it in the presence of the divine.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis ability of the mantra to reshape the landscape is exemplified further in the prayer flags hung from high surfaces all across Tibetan Buddhist communities. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Prayer flags in the wind<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nFigure 31: Prayer flags flapping in the wind <\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\nMy friend Sherab explained to me that the Buddhist prayer flags are hung in the windiest places, because every time they flap they send the mantra written on them out into the world. As discussed earlier, mantras have the ability to reshape people and places through sensory contact. Imagine a line of flags, whipping back and forth. With each movement, waves of vibrations are carried across the landscape, spreading the mantra written on their threads as far as the wind will carry it. These waves of vibrations create sounds, too [sound clip of flags in the wind]. In his study of voice, place, and identity in Kenya, Andrew Eisenberg writes about the territoriality of sound, the ways that sounds can create social space based on how far they travel and who interacts with them. He argues that \u201csonic practices territorialize by virtue of combining physical vibration with bodily sensation and culturally conditioned meanings\u201d (2015: 199). As the prayer flags send out their vibrations in the wind, they shape the landscape around them into a sacred space, from which liberation becomes more accessible. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe\nphysical vibrations emanating from flags reminds us how religious icons and\ntexts have the ability to transform \u201cthe ordinary, coarse world into an\nextraordinary realm of spiritual wisdom and compassion\u201d (Farkas 2009: 30). From the way mandalas are created in buildings\nto represent the universe, to the dying practice of Sky Burials, to the sounds\nof prayer flags in the wind, we see how \u201cterritorial and spatial\ndimensions are intrinsically linked to the practice of\nreligion\u201d (Terrone 2014: 463).This\nis not religion that adheres primarily to specific doctrines, but is rather a\nform of religion incorporated into daily life through smaller practices and\nreflections of the landscape.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nThe Smell of the Cows<\/h3>\n\n\n\n Figure 31: Cows in the street in Kagbeni <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Cows in the morning<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nThroughout\nmy time in Kagbeni, I heard over and over about people who had left the town and\ncame back years later, or who now live elsewhere and visit as often as\npossible. I was surprised by the number of visitors I met in the month I was living\nthere, and how positively they reminisced about returning home. When I asked\npeople if they would want to return and live in Kagbeni instead of only\nvisiting, they said things like \u201cthat would be nice\u201d or \u201coh yes, I wish,\u201d but\nin a way that told me they never would. I became curious about why many people return\nto visit, but so few come back for good.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis question could be answered in part by looking at the factors limiting opportunities in Mustang, which is one of the main reasons people leave. Not surprisingly, the restriction of the region from the 1960s onwards played a large role in Mustang\u2019s ability to grow and change over time. Manjushree Thapa explains this dynamic:<\/p>\n\n\n\nRestriction had not kept Upper Mustang beyond the reach of the modern world. Rather, it had forced people out. No new sources of income had entered the area, nor had traditional occupations found means to grow. The history-book pattern \u2014 of farming in the spring, animal husbandry in the summer, and trading in the winter \u2014 had remained the same for centuries; it had stagnated (Thapa 2008: 80).<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis restriction was\naccentuated by Chinese policies to the North as well. Following 1959 and the\ninvasion of Tibet, \u201cChinese authorities had clamped down on the practice of\ngrazing of Nepali animals on Tibetan grassland\u201d (Thapa 2008: 51). This means\nthat there was less dung that could be used for fuel, less animal meat, and\nless revenue. Migratory grazing was no longer an option in the way it once was.\nThis policy of restriction is promoted as something that protects the culture\nand keeps the area as a living museum, but has evidently harmed Mustang greatly\nafter decades of not providing support to the region. Without opportunities beyond\nagriculture and tourism, people who have the means to leave do, and only some return.<\/p>\n\n\n\nIt\nquickly became clear to me upon arriving in Mustang that the locals are heavily\nimpacted by the land. We have already seen this to some extent in the way that\nbuildings are made, and the relationships between religion and landscape. This\narea north of the Himalayas is classified as high-altitude desert, with\nlow-lying trees sparsely spread along the gorge. The endangered blue sheep roam\nthe hillsides above 3500 meters, and Himalayan vultures occasionally fly\noverhead. Wind and water have shaped the Kali Gandaki gorge (which was once on\nthe bottom of the ocean floor), but they have also shaped the people who live\nwithin its walls. <\/p>\n\n\n\nTowards the end of my stay in Kagbeni, I had the opportunity to meet three siblings who are originally from the town but now live in New York City. They were a few years older than me. The sister had moved to the United States for school, and was working on a master\u2019s degree. When I met the siblings, they were visiting their mother and grandmother, and said that they would be in Mustang for two months before returning to the USA. They missed this place, they told me, and needed to get a break from the hectic lifestyle of the city. I began to tell them about my project, explaining that the idea started because I was curious about the relationship with people and place. The sister nodded and said \u201cthe people here, they really respect the land, you know? Not like in New York.\u201d It is clear that, in Kagbeni, much more attention is given to what comes from the land, and how people interact with the land on a daily basis. In New York City, the sister argued, this connection, this respect, was lost. This sentiment was communicated to me by other people I met, like Kunga, who took such pride in the fresh food of Kagbeni, and it made the cultural use of the land another site of differentiation for the people who spoke about Mustang. Just as with the political and geographic boundaries placed on Upper Mustang, statements like the sister\u2019s once again distance Mustang from other places, this time focusing on the people rather than the land. This is done by both outsiders as well as locals. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAnother friend \u2013 Mama \u2013 told me a similar story about another Loba who lived in New York for many years before returning to Kagbeni: \u201che just gave up everything and moved back here to Kagbeni… he just loved this place, man. The smell of the cows.\u201d As someone who lives in Kathmandu but returns to his home in Tiri (across the river from Kagbeni) a few times a year, Mama showed a sense of disbelief at the man in his story. He too had moved away, made a new life and started a family in the city. One of his brothers was living in New York, studying to be a photographer. And yet, they were both pulled back to Kagbeni and Tiri, just like the three siblings earlier. Mama may have laughed about the smells of the livestock, but even he admitted that he would like to visit more than he does. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the monastery, the monks provide another example of a lasting commitment to the Kagbeni community. The khenpo<\/em>, who also happens to be Mama\u2019s brother, was originally from Tiri and came back to head the monastery after receiving a higher level of monastic education in India. In addition, one of the younger monks, Dorje, was saw his role at the monastery as a service to his community. In his 20s, Dorje left Tiri for a few years to go to school and live in Kathmandu, but has since returned in order to give back to Kagbeni as the middle son of his family. Dorje explained that it is common for people from the surrounding towns to serve at the monastery for a few years, without the expectation that they would remain a monk. In his case, Dorje spent one year at the monastery before returning to Kathmandu for a year, and is now finishing his time at Kag Chode in a two-year segment. He prefers living in Kathmandu, like many other men around his age that I talked to, but also recognizes that it is nice to be out of the city and back where his family is from. When asked if he would continue to be a monk when his three years of service were over, Dorje admitted that he had not yet decided. <\/p>\n\n\n\nOne of my older\nstudents showed this commitment in a different way. In order to be ordained at\na higher level, monks in the Sakya sect must receive further schooling in\nIndia. Of the 64 students at Kag Chode, it is likely that only a few will\nfollow this path. As they get older, students often decide to disrobe and\nreenter lay society. Since the school provides both a monastic and secular\neducation, many families send their children there for the free education and\nhousing, knowing that their children will be able to succeed with the education\nwhether or not they remain as monks. When I talked to one student about his\nplans following his graduation, he told me that he wants to be ordained at a\nhigher level, which means going to India. After receiving this further\neducation, his goal is to return to Mustang and help run the gompa<\/em> and teach younger students. <\/p>\n\n\n\nPeople\nleave Mustang for school, better jobs, seasonal work, or other opportunities.\nThey come back for different seasonal work, festivals, or to visit family. Because\nthe winters are harsh in Mustang, many people leave for the season. While a few\nolder community members and children stay behind to keep the town running in\nthe coldest months, the majority of people find work or live elsewhere. The\nentire monastic school, for instance, picks up and moves to Pokhara for a few\nmonths. This seasonal migration is by no means a new phenomenon, and shows that\neven when Mustang was restricted to foreigners, people have always come and\ngone with some frequency. Their claim of being Loba, however, remains with\nthem. People living in Kathmandu identify where they are from or what their\nethnic background is when they talk about their life in the city, and they also\nlabel others in this way. For example, one trekking guide mentioned that he has\n\u201ca lot of Manangi friends.\u201d Manang is the region to the east of Mustang, and\neven if his friends live predominantly in Kathmandu, the guide still identifies\nthem as being from Manang. In the same way, people often refer to a place as\n\u201cmy village,\u201d even when they have lived in Kathmandu for most of their lives.\nAlong the same lines, people who live in Kathmandu almost never say that they\nare form Kathmandu. <\/p>\n\n\n\nClaiming\nthe identity of the village or region your family is from is common throughout\nNepal, and is in many ways related to the caste system and Hinduization in the\nPanchayat era. This is also in part due to the wide diversity of ethnic groups\nand languages in Nepal, and the original formation of the country in the 18th<\/sup>\ncentury as a unified kingdom made up of many smaller, previously distinct\ngroups. While people in Mustang are definitively Nepali, they have a deep\nconnection to their homeland. As with the gompa<\/em>\ndonor now living in Hong Kong, many people want to maintain a connection to the\nregion and support it when they can. In Mustang\nBhot in Fragments<\/em>, Manjushree Thapa tells the story of one man who lived in\nKathmandu many years before returning to Mustang, hoping to improve the area after\ngrowing accustomed to the ways of the city. When asked why he wanted to come\nback and work on developing the area, he responded \u201cthis is home. If we don\u2019t\nimprove it, who will?\u201d (Thapa 2008: 50). This statement not only shows the deep\nconnection that Loba have to their communities, it also implies that other\npeople cannot be counted on to improve life there. After a history of being let\ndown by the Nepali government and other development projects, it makes sense\nthat the community would take it into their own hands to build the road north\nto Tibet, to spur the possibility of more opportunities.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nTeam Tashi Delek<\/em><\/h3>\n\n\n\nUp until this point, there have been occasional points of friction between Nepali and Tibetan and Loba identities. In ethnicity, religion, culture, and language, people of Mustang appear to be closer to Tibet than Nepal. This perception is held by most Nepali citizens, both from Mustang and from elsewhere. At the same time, these borderland communities are still Nepali, learning the official language and singing the national anthem each day in school. One day in class at Kag Chode, I was working with the students to practice grouping words that use the same vowel sounds. I created teams, splitting the class in half, and asked what they wanted their team names to be. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Tashi Delek<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Namaste<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe students broke into laughter, pleased with the names they had chosen. <\/p>\n\n\n\nI bring up this moment with the students (this class was ages 10 through 12) because it points to a divide in how Loba people perceive themselves in relation to Nepal. Tashi<\/em> delek<\/em> and namaste<\/em> are Tibetan and Nepali words respectively, and are both used as greetings. The local language in Mustang is Loke, which is closely related to Tibetan. As a result, tashi delek<\/em> is almost always what you hear being tossed around as you walk through the streets. Namaste <\/em>is reserved for foreigners and other Nepalis. While children are taught both Nepali and English in school (in addition to Tibetan language at monastic schools), people primarily still speak in Loke in Kagbeni, rarely switching into Nepali or English unless there is another person around who speaks one of those languages. English, Nepali, and Tibetan music mingle in the streets of Kagbeni, as people play music to accompany the harvest, household chores, or evening downtime. Each language carries a different cadence, mediating spoken interactions between locals and others passing through.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis divide is in part due to the Nepali government\u2019s history of aid (or lack of it) in Mustang, but is also deeply rooted in the cultural identity of Mustang. The heart of this issue comes from the distance that is felt between what it means to be Nepali and what it means to be Tibetan, and finding a place somewhere in between. While giving myself and a Nepali business group from Kathmandu a tour of Kagbeni, Mama explained <\/p>\n\n\n\nUpper Mustang, Lower Mustang, we want to be called Tibetan, but we are not Tibetan. Tibetans are migratory people you know? But because I was born here I can say that I\u2019m Tibetan. Historically we wandered around place to place with the yaks looking for grass.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis points to the\ndivide between how Loba people see themselves and how other Tibetan and Nepali\ngroups see them. My friend explained that even though he is not \u2018Tibetan,\u2019 he\nstill identifies as being Tibetan, and does so proudly. Similar sentiments were\nexpressed to me by other people in Kagbeni. Throughout Kagbeni, and Upper\nMustang to the north, people align themselves more closely with Tibetan culture\nthan Nepali, while still maintaining their Nepali identity as well. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe royal family of Mustang provides a good example of the complicated relationship between Nepali and Tibetan identities. The family is said to be descended from Tibetan kings, yet today holds the surname Bista. This once again traces to the Rana regime and the following Panchayat era, in which \u201cof necessity, the [Loba] colonized themselves\u201d (Thapa 2008: 124). The name Bista comes from high-caste Hindu families originally, and was thus appropriated in order to increase the family\u2019s authority and recognition in the eyes of the Nepali government (Thapa 2008). Other Loba took on surnames in a similar way, often appropriating names of ethnic groups to the south of Mustang. While the Bistas are no longer recognized by the Nepali government today, they still hold social power in the region. One trekking guide who was originally from Lo Manthang told me that part of the reason the local people still respect and listen to the royal family is because \u201cit is past karma,\u201d so the people of Mustang just know to follow them. Whatever the reason, it became clear to me that the Loba put more trust and respect in the royal family of Mustang than the Nepali government.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBeyond language, there are other clear physical markers which point to the Loba being more in line with Tibetan culture. The clothing, buildings, and even the landscape of Upper Mustang all mirror that which is found in Tibet. While my friends from other regions of Nepal frequently spoke of wanting to travel to other regions of the country, the Loba I know in Kagbeni only ever spoke of wishing to visit Tibet. This is not purely for religious reasons, though going to pilgrimage sites such as Manasarovar lake certainly contributes to this desire. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThis closeness to Tibetan culture was further emphasized after 1959, when Mustang became a one of many settlement areas for Tibetan refugees \u201cdue to its close proximity to Tibetan territory, strong kinship and monastic relations with Tibetan populations and social\u2013physical landscape congruent to the Tibetan Plateau\u201d (Murton 2017: 538). Here, it is clear that the association between Mustang and Tibet goes past simply proximity or culture. In popular discourse, however, Mustang is still essentialized as being as close as you can get to \u201cauthentic\u201d Tibetan culture as it was before 1959. This perception is damaging for many reasons, and will be explored more in relation to tourism.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nReshaping Mustang<\/h3>\n\n\n\nMustang, Nepal has been\nshaped both internally and externally by religion and its relationship to\npolitics and culture. Buddhist and Bon structures have physically reshaped the\nlandscape, linking to mythology that maps onto it. These recreations of the\nland go back hundreds of years, to when Guru Rinpoche first came through the\nKali Gandaki in the 8th<\/sup> century. Bon influences on the land go back\neven further. The mingling of Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism has taken on ulterior\nmotives in the last century, however. Due to the governmental policies and lack\nof infrastructure in the region, Loba were pushed to either assimilate and\nbecome more recognizably \u201cNepali\u201d (meaning more Hindu), or leave for better\nopportunities elsewhere. The relationship with Tibet to the north was largely\nhalted as well, with only a trade fair in the summer remaining.<\/p>\n\n\n\nTurning\ntowards the tourism industry, the region is frequently characterized as a\nstronghold of Tibetan culture and religion, preserved by the restriction of the\nregion. Government policies, tourism agencies, and even museums point to\nMustang as being a special place in Nepal because of the presence of Tibetan\nBuddhism and Bon in its valleys. Kagbeni, on the border between Upper and Lower\nMustang, shows us that this popular essentialization of Loba people as purely\nreligious in many ways misinterprets the role of religion in daily life. Yes,\nsignals of Buddhism and Bon and Hinduism abound in the small town, and some\npeople do sit outside in the sun with prayer wheels spinning in their hands,\nbut this misses the complexity of the Kagbeni reality. Lives in Kagbeni are complicated and reshaped\nconstantly by the government, religions, and tourists intersecting within its\nspace. In the following chapter, I turn to look more closely at the impacts of\ntourism in and scholarship about Kagbeni and Upper Mustang.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTourism: Exceptionalism, Pilgrimage, and Romance<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Culture, Landscapes, and Identity Religious LandscapesThe Smell of the CowsTeam Tashi DelekReshaping Mustang Towards the end of my time in Kagbeni, I walked into the lounge area of the hotel I was living at to find Aama laying on one of the benches, reading quietly aloud to herself. Aama is the matriarch of the hotel, … Continue reading Religion<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3090,"featured_media":145,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-8","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3090"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8"}],"version-history":[{"count":18,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":368,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions\/368"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/145"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
This distancing from religion is not unique\nto Kunga, who is now in his early 40s. The people who visit the gompa<\/em> most frequently are women Aama\u2019s\nage or older, often at the same time every day. Looking at the people who live\nin Kagbeni, there is a clear divide in the generations. Women above the age of\n40 most often wear the traditional Loba clothing, while younger women rarely\ndo. This shifts as you move northward up the Kali Gandaki closer to the capital\nof Lo, where more people wear the traditional Loba clothing. As Kunga\nexplained, this is because Upper and Lower\nMustang are very different, and that people like him down at the border between\nthe two in Kagbeni don\u2019t care as much about the traditional things. <\/p>\n\n\n\nKunga\u2019s comment about people becoming \u201cmore religious\u201d as they age points to a divide in how people think about religion. If religion is expected to be primarily text-based, then he is right that Aama is becoming more religious as she begins to read more Tibetan Buddhist teachings. This understanding of religion leaves out the impact that it has on every-day life. For lay people living in Kagbeni, the actual texts are not important. At the same time, students at the monastic school have classes on the dharma<\/em>, the teaching of the Buddha, and there is a ceremony that involves carrying the physical books of the Buddha\u2019s teachings around the boundaries of the town. In other words, the texts are not unimportant or irrelevant to the presence of religions in Kagbeni, but they are not the focus of lived religion there. Sound arguably becomes more important than the texts in this setting, as it reshapes the landscape and is used by monks and lay people alike. Whether or not lay people know the reason for the power in speaking certain words like om mani padme hum<\/em>, the phrase is a piece of daily interaction with the divine.<\/p>\n\n\n\nKagbeni lives at an interesting set of crossroads. There is the physical crossroads built by the government, bringing traders and trekkers north to Lo and pilgrims east to Muktinath. There is the cultural divide expressed by Kunga, separating Upper and Lower Mustang. This divide is not only about commitment to tradition, it also implicates the conflicting Nepali, Tibetan, and Loba identities. At the borders between these categories, people in Kagbeni are reshaped by the shifting factors every day. <\/p>\n\n\n\nReligious Landscapes<\/h3>\n\n\n\nThe primary religious influences found in Kagbeni are Tibetan Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism. All three mingle and overlap, sharing sites, beliefs, and practitioners. In all three, the landscape is an essential feature. Landmarks like mountains are said to be the homes of gods, and the convergences of rivers are sacred spaces. These religious landmarks in turn map onto real physical locations, allowing spiritual authority over key sacred sites to be translated into political power (Ramble 1995: 93). Upper Mustang presents a good example of this relationships between sacred and political space, as Lo Manthang is also the seat of a principal territorial deity in local cosmologies, and the surrounding areas are home to lesser gods (Ramble 1995: 91). The seat of political power in the region is also the seat of religious power. This dynamic of mapping religion onto the landscape is not unique to Kagbeni nor to the religions present there, yet it remains an important aspect of the Tibetan Buddhist and Bon ontologies. In addition to the daily practices of spinning prayer wheels or attending to the household gods, this shows us that the entire landscape of Mustang is covered in and changed by interactions with religion.<\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the river\nconvergence south of the gompa<\/em>, a\nsmall park of sorts holds both Hindu and Buddhist shrines. Hindu pilgrims and\nnovice monks from the monastic school wash themselves in the water as the smoke\nfrom incense flows over them. The prayer wall in the gompa<\/em> complex stretches down the bank, right to where the two\nrivers meet. Prayer flags are wrapped in tree branches and hang from the\nbridge. This site \u2013 right next to the main road through town \u2013 claims the\nattention of passers-by. It\u2019s colorful, loud, and often bustling with activity.\nBells are rung by pilgrims passing through, mingling with the beeping horns of\njeeps and the Bollywood music spilling from the windows of buses. Along with\nthe ch\u00f6rtens<\/em> in the streets and the\nmonastic school up the road, it is what most people passing through would point\nto as markers of \nKagbeni\u2019s religious nature. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n Figure 25: Incense burning at the convergence of the rivers <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\n Figure 26: Prayer flags lining a bridge over the Kali Gandaki <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nAn emphasis on\nphysical, visual, markings on the landscape negates the way the landscape of\nMustang has been shaped for centuries by various mythologies and sonic\nvibrations that claim space. In the Tibetan\nBuddhist ontology, \u201cTibetan architecture, landscape, and religious\nbeliefs are woven together, forming a sacred realm. The theme of the mandala is\npresent everywhere one goes; as a spiritual vehicle and a general model\u201d\n(Xu 2010: 182). The ch\u00f6rten<\/em> is one\nstructure which weaves together these themes into the form of a mandala. As Xu\nexplains, the physical structure of a ch\u00f6rten<\/em>\nis a three-dimensional representation of a mandala, a model of the universe.\nThese structures are sprinkled across the landscape of Mustang, and throughout\nKagbeni. Varying in size and style, they are reminders of the nature of the\nuniverse, and \u201cof the spiritual realm in which Mustang is embedded\u201d (Bubriski\net al. 2018: 19). Similarly, the music used in pujas creates a mandala through\nthe way sound is created (Ellingson 1979).<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\nFigure 27: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> with paintings inside in the middle of a Kagbeni street <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\n Figure 28: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> and communal washing area in a Kagbeni street <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n Figure 29: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> at the end of a prayer wall on the peninsula between the two rivers <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nBecause of this\nemphasis on the land as being a home to deities and itself a mandala, Tibetan\nBuddhist teachings often emphasize the proper use of land in order to prevent\npollution, especially of water resources. For example, by describing how a\ntoilet should be built to promote a healthy environment, or promoting the\nplanting of trees to prevent deforestation (Vigoda 1989: 26). While water is\ngenerally sacred, or purifying, in the Tibetan landscape it takes on the\nadditional context of being scarce, and thus even more important for sustaining\nlife. <\/p>\n\n\n\nOne practice\nfrequently associated with Mustang is Sky Burial. This death ritual is often\ndescribed in documentaries and tourism materials as something that keeps\nMustang linked to the past. Vigoda explains that this is yet another example of\na religious practice reacting to the conditions of the environment. She says:<\/p>\n\n\n\n[Sky Burial] is carried out at the tops of hills and mountains, where bodies are chopped up and fed to the birds\u2026 [it] is indicative of how the lack of natural resources, and the Buddhist idea of the interdependence of all things, are manifested in a religious custom (Vigoda 1989: 29). <\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nIn recent years, however, the practice has\ndied out almost completely. There are a few reasons for this. First, Himalayan\nVultures are now an endangered species. These giant birds who once played a\nlarge role in disposing of corpses were impacted by the use of DDT in India,\nand have thus decreased in population considerably. I noticed a distinct lack\nof vultures on my second visit to Mustang in 2018, whereas my group had\ngleefully spotted a few of the birds two years before. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe second reason for\nthe deemphasis on Sky Burials is linked to global trends of modernization.\nTraditional practices, especially around death, are often looked down on or\nseen as backward by more powerful, \u2018modern\u2019 or \u2018developed\u2019 countries. Even\nthough Mustang is remote and difficult to navigate, it has been linked to trade\nnetworks for hundreds of years. Many of the wealthier families in Mustang have\nhouses in Kathmandu as well, and often travel outside the region. Seasonal jobs\nbring people to India and Tibet for trade or construction work, and children\nare often sent to school in Pokhara or Kathmandu. As a result, there are many\nways that the communities of Mustang are shaped by global trends, even without\ntaking the impact of tourism into consideration. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the same time, the\nimagination of Mustang as a stronghold of Tibetan culture is one of the main\ndraws for tourism in the region, and there are many groups which are trying to\npreserve the culture of the region. The perception that Mustang\u2019s culture and\nlanguage is unique and under attack by globalization and modernization is\nprevalent among NGOs internal and external to Nepal. While there are some\ngroups like the American Himalayan Foundation that strive towards cultural\npreservation, Sky Burials are not the focus of preservation initiatives. On the\nother hand, the few Sky Burials that do still happen today have become a draw\nfor tourists who want to see a different culture in action; preservation for\nthe sake of tourism has a different sort of friction. <\/p>\n\n\n\nWhile the Buddha\u2019s\nteachings make an impact on practitioners\u2019 relationship to the land, so does\nthe presence of the other deities in the Tibetan Buddhist and Bon cosmologies.\nThese deities inhabit the sky, atmosphere, and earth, and can be both\nbenevolent and wrathful (25). The domains of these deities recognized in\nTibetan Buddhism and Bon map onto the physical landscape of Mustang, and are\nmirrored by the structures built. In Mustang, the emphasis is placed most\nheavily on the mythology of Guru Padmasambhava, or Guru Rinpoche. In fact, the\nfigure of Guru Rinpoche is more important than that of the Buddha, and it is\nhis likeness that sits at the altar of some monasteries. <\/p>\n\n\n\nMuktinath, the\npilgrimage site to the east of Kagbeni, is one site where Guru Padmasambhava is\nsaid to have stopped, thus making it an important Buddhist site in addition to its\nimportance for Hindu pilgrims. A few days\u2019 walk north, outside of Gami village,\nthe longest mani<\/em> wall in Nepal sprawls\nacross a plateau, marking the site of a battle between Guru Padmasambhava and a\ndemoness. The canyon walls are blue and red with her blood, and a ch\u00f6rten<\/em> built in the 8th<\/sup>\ncentury safeguards her heart, cut out by Guru Padmasambhava. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Figure 30: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> north of Gami, where the demoness\u2019 heart is kept <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nIn addition to shaping the physical environment with ch\u00f6rtens<\/em>, monasteries, sound, and prayer flags, much of Tibetan Buddhism focuses on turning inwards. In the harsh landscape of high-altitude desert, methods of self-realization are emphasized in order to have a chance of escaping samsara<\/em>, the cycle of rebirth, in a future life (Gualtieri 1983: 170-1). As discussed above, this often involves sensory contact with mantras, whether it be chanting them or carving or painting them on rock walls. Peter Crossley-Holland explains another aspect of the mantra\u2019s significance. According to him, \u201ca mantra is a symbol for the divine being it is said to embody, but it is also believed to be more than that: it is believed to be an actual emanation from that being, and so an aspect of it\u201d (Crossley-Holland 1976: 50). Following this logic, sensory interaction with a mantra is interaction with the divine. Similarly, the mantras written all over the landscape help to cloak it in the presence of the divine.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis ability of the mantra to reshape the landscape is exemplified further in the prayer flags hung from high surfaces all across Tibetan Buddhist communities. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Prayer flags in the wind<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nFigure 31: Prayer flags flapping in the wind <\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\nMy friend Sherab explained to me that the Buddhist prayer flags are hung in the windiest places, because every time they flap they send the mantra written on them out into the world. As discussed earlier, mantras have the ability to reshape people and places through sensory contact. Imagine a line of flags, whipping back and forth. With each movement, waves of vibrations are carried across the landscape, spreading the mantra written on their threads as far as the wind will carry it. These waves of vibrations create sounds, too [sound clip of flags in the wind]. In his study of voice, place, and identity in Kenya, Andrew Eisenberg writes about the territoriality of sound, the ways that sounds can create social space based on how far they travel and who interacts with them. He argues that \u201csonic practices territorialize by virtue of combining physical vibration with bodily sensation and culturally conditioned meanings\u201d (2015: 199). As the prayer flags send out their vibrations in the wind, they shape the landscape around them into a sacred space, from which liberation becomes more accessible. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe\nphysical vibrations emanating from flags reminds us how religious icons and\ntexts have the ability to transform \u201cthe ordinary, coarse world into an\nextraordinary realm of spiritual wisdom and compassion\u201d (Farkas 2009: 30). From the way mandalas are created in buildings\nto represent the universe, to the dying practice of Sky Burials, to the sounds\nof prayer flags in the wind, we see how \u201cterritorial and spatial\ndimensions are intrinsically linked to the practice of\nreligion\u201d (Terrone 2014: 463).This\nis not religion that adheres primarily to specific doctrines, but is rather a\nform of religion incorporated into daily life through smaller practices and\nreflections of the landscape.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nThe Smell of the Cows<\/h3>\n\n\n\n Figure 31: Cows in the street in Kagbeni <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Cows in the morning<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nThroughout\nmy time in Kagbeni, I heard over and over about people who had left the town and\ncame back years later, or who now live elsewhere and visit as often as\npossible. I was surprised by the number of visitors I met in the month I was living\nthere, and how positively they reminisced about returning home. When I asked\npeople if they would want to return and live in Kagbeni instead of only\nvisiting, they said things like \u201cthat would be nice\u201d or \u201coh yes, I wish,\u201d but\nin a way that told me they never would. I became curious about why many people return\nto visit, but so few come back for good.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis question could be answered in part by looking at the factors limiting opportunities in Mustang, which is one of the main reasons people leave. Not surprisingly, the restriction of the region from the 1960s onwards played a large role in Mustang\u2019s ability to grow and change over time. Manjushree Thapa explains this dynamic:<\/p>\n\n\n\nRestriction had not kept Upper Mustang beyond the reach of the modern world. Rather, it had forced people out. No new sources of income had entered the area, nor had traditional occupations found means to grow. The history-book pattern \u2014 of farming in the spring, animal husbandry in the summer, and trading in the winter \u2014 had remained the same for centuries; it had stagnated (Thapa 2008: 80).<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis restriction was\naccentuated by Chinese policies to the North as well. Following 1959 and the\ninvasion of Tibet, \u201cChinese authorities had clamped down on the practice of\ngrazing of Nepali animals on Tibetan grassland\u201d (Thapa 2008: 51). This means\nthat there was less dung that could be used for fuel, less animal meat, and\nless revenue. Migratory grazing was no longer an option in the way it once was.\nThis policy of restriction is promoted as something that protects the culture\nand keeps the area as a living museum, but has evidently harmed Mustang greatly\nafter decades of not providing support to the region. Without opportunities beyond\nagriculture and tourism, people who have the means to leave do, and only some return.<\/p>\n\n\n\nIt\nquickly became clear to me upon arriving in Mustang that the locals are heavily\nimpacted by the land. We have already seen this to some extent in the way that\nbuildings are made, and the relationships between religion and landscape. This\narea north of the Himalayas is classified as high-altitude desert, with\nlow-lying trees sparsely spread along the gorge. The endangered blue sheep roam\nthe hillsides above 3500 meters, and Himalayan vultures occasionally fly\noverhead. Wind and water have shaped the Kali Gandaki gorge (which was once on\nthe bottom of the ocean floor), but they have also shaped the people who live\nwithin its walls. <\/p>\n\n\n\nTowards the end of my stay in Kagbeni, I had the opportunity to meet three siblings who are originally from the town but now live in New York City. They were a few years older than me. The sister had moved to the United States for school, and was working on a master\u2019s degree. When I met the siblings, they were visiting their mother and grandmother, and said that they would be in Mustang for two months before returning to the USA. They missed this place, they told me, and needed to get a break from the hectic lifestyle of the city. I began to tell them about my project, explaining that the idea started because I was curious about the relationship with people and place. The sister nodded and said \u201cthe people here, they really respect the land, you know? Not like in New York.\u201d It is clear that, in Kagbeni, much more attention is given to what comes from the land, and how people interact with the land on a daily basis. In New York City, the sister argued, this connection, this respect, was lost. This sentiment was communicated to me by other people I met, like Kunga, who took such pride in the fresh food of Kagbeni, and it made the cultural use of the land another site of differentiation for the people who spoke about Mustang. Just as with the political and geographic boundaries placed on Upper Mustang, statements like the sister\u2019s once again distance Mustang from other places, this time focusing on the people rather than the land. This is done by both outsiders as well as locals. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAnother friend \u2013 Mama \u2013 told me a similar story about another Loba who lived in New York for many years before returning to Kagbeni: \u201che just gave up everything and moved back here to Kagbeni… he just loved this place, man. The smell of the cows.\u201d As someone who lives in Kathmandu but returns to his home in Tiri (across the river from Kagbeni) a few times a year, Mama showed a sense of disbelief at the man in his story. He too had moved away, made a new life and started a family in the city. One of his brothers was living in New York, studying to be a photographer. And yet, they were both pulled back to Kagbeni and Tiri, just like the three siblings earlier. Mama may have laughed about the smells of the livestock, but even he admitted that he would like to visit more than he does. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the monastery, the monks provide another example of a lasting commitment to the Kagbeni community. The khenpo<\/em>, who also happens to be Mama\u2019s brother, was originally from Tiri and came back to head the monastery after receiving a higher level of monastic education in India. In addition, one of the younger monks, Dorje, was saw his role at the monastery as a service to his community. In his 20s, Dorje left Tiri for a few years to go to school and live in Kathmandu, but has since returned in order to give back to Kagbeni as the middle son of his family. Dorje explained that it is common for people from the surrounding towns to serve at the monastery for a few years, without the expectation that they would remain a monk. In his case, Dorje spent one year at the monastery before returning to Kathmandu for a year, and is now finishing his time at Kag Chode in a two-year segment. He prefers living in Kathmandu, like many other men around his age that I talked to, but also recognizes that it is nice to be out of the city and back where his family is from. When asked if he would continue to be a monk when his three years of service were over, Dorje admitted that he had not yet decided. <\/p>\n\n\n\nOne of my older\nstudents showed this commitment in a different way. In order to be ordained at\na higher level, monks in the Sakya sect must receive further schooling in\nIndia. Of the 64 students at Kag Chode, it is likely that only a few will\nfollow this path. As they get older, students often decide to disrobe and\nreenter lay society. Since the school provides both a monastic and secular\neducation, many families send their children there for the free education and\nhousing, knowing that their children will be able to succeed with the education\nwhether or not they remain as monks. When I talked to one student about his\nplans following his graduation, he told me that he wants to be ordained at a\nhigher level, which means going to India. After receiving this further\neducation, his goal is to return to Mustang and help run the gompa<\/em> and teach younger students. <\/p>\n\n\n\nPeople\nleave Mustang for school, better jobs, seasonal work, or other opportunities.\nThey come back for different seasonal work, festivals, or to visit family. Because\nthe winters are harsh in Mustang, many people leave for the season. While a few\nolder community members and children stay behind to keep the town running in\nthe coldest months, the majority of people find work or live elsewhere. The\nentire monastic school, for instance, picks up and moves to Pokhara for a few\nmonths. This seasonal migration is by no means a new phenomenon, and shows that\neven when Mustang was restricted to foreigners, people have always come and\ngone with some frequency. Their claim of being Loba, however, remains with\nthem. People living in Kathmandu identify where they are from or what their\nethnic background is when they talk about their life in the city, and they also\nlabel others in this way. For example, one trekking guide mentioned that he has\n\u201ca lot of Manangi friends.\u201d Manang is the region to the east of Mustang, and\neven if his friends live predominantly in Kathmandu, the guide still identifies\nthem as being from Manang. In the same way, people often refer to a place as\n\u201cmy village,\u201d even when they have lived in Kathmandu for most of their lives.\nAlong the same lines, people who live in Kathmandu almost never say that they\nare form Kathmandu. <\/p>\n\n\n\nClaiming\nthe identity of the village or region your family is from is common throughout\nNepal, and is in many ways related to the caste system and Hinduization in the\nPanchayat era. This is also in part due to the wide diversity of ethnic groups\nand languages in Nepal, and the original formation of the country in the 18th<\/sup>\ncentury as a unified kingdom made up of many smaller, previously distinct\ngroups. While people in Mustang are definitively Nepali, they have a deep\nconnection to their homeland. As with the gompa<\/em>\ndonor now living in Hong Kong, many people want to maintain a connection to the\nregion and support it when they can. In Mustang\nBhot in Fragments<\/em>, Manjushree Thapa tells the story of one man who lived in\nKathmandu many years before returning to Mustang, hoping to improve the area after\ngrowing accustomed to the ways of the city. When asked why he wanted to come\nback and work on developing the area, he responded \u201cthis is home. If we don\u2019t\nimprove it, who will?\u201d (Thapa 2008: 50). This statement not only shows the deep\nconnection that Loba have to their communities, it also implies that other\npeople cannot be counted on to improve life there. After a history of being let\ndown by the Nepali government and other development projects, it makes sense\nthat the community would take it into their own hands to build the road north\nto Tibet, to spur the possibility of more opportunities.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nTeam Tashi Delek<\/em><\/h3>\n\n\n\nUp until this point, there have been occasional points of friction between Nepali and Tibetan and Loba identities. In ethnicity, religion, culture, and language, people of Mustang appear to be closer to Tibet than Nepal. This perception is held by most Nepali citizens, both from Mustang and from elsewhere. At the same time, these borderland communities are still Nepali, learning the official language and singing the national anthem each day in school. One day in class at Kag Chode, I was working with the students to practice grouping words that use the same vowel sounds. I created teams, splitting the class in half, and asked what they wanted their team names to be. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Tashi Delek<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Namaste<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe students broke into laughter, pleased with the names they had chosen. <\/p>\n\n\n\nI bring up this moment with the students (this class was ages 10 through 12) because it points to a divide in how Loba people perceive themselves in relation to Nepal. Tashi<\/em> delek<\/em> and namaste<\/em> are Tibetan and Nepali words respectively, and are both used as greetings. The local language in Mustang is Loke, which is closely related to Tibetan. As a result, tashi delek<\/em> is almost always what you hear being tossed around as you walk through the streets. Namaste <\/em>is reserved for foreigners and other Nepalis. While children are taught both Nepali and English in school (in addition to Tibetan language at monastic schools), people primarily still speak in Loke in Kagbeni, rarely switching into Nepali or English unless there is another person around who speaks one of those languages. English, Nepali, and Tibetan music mingle in the streets of Kagbeni, as people play music to accompany the harvest, household chores, or evening downtime. Each language carries a different cadence, mediating spoken interactions between locals and others passing through.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis divide is in part due to the Nepali government\u2019s history of aid (or lack of it) in Mustang, but is also deeply rooted in the cultural identity of Mustang. The heart of this issue comes from the distance that is felt between what it means to be Nepali and what it means to be Tibetan, and finding a place somewhere in between. While giving myself and a Nepali business group from Kathmandu a tour of Kagbeni, Mama explained <\/p>\n\n\n\nUpper Mustang, Lower Mustang, we want to be called Tibetan, but we are not Tibetan. Tibetans are migratory people you know? But because I was born here I can say that I\u2019m Tibetan. Historically we wandered around place to place with the yaks looking for grass.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis points to the\ndivide between how Loba people see themselves and how other Tibetan and Nepali\ngroups see them. My friend explained that even though he is not \u2018Tibetan,\u2019 he\nstill identifies as being Tibetan, and does so proudly. Similar sentiments were\nexpressed to me by other people in Kagbeni. Throughout Kagbeni, and Upper\nMustang to the north, people align themselves more closely with Tibetan culture\nthan Nepali, while still maintaining their Nepali identity as well. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe royal family of Mustang provides a good example of the complicated relationship between Nepali and Tibetan identities. The family is said to be descended from Tibetan kings, yet today holds the surname Bista. This once again traces to the Rana regime and the following Panchayat era, in which \u201cof necessity, the [Loba] colonized themselves\u201d (Thapa 2008: 124). The name Bista comes from high-caste Hindu families originally, and was thus appropriated in order to increase the family\u2019s authority and recognition in the eyes of the Nepali government (Thapa 2008). Other Loba took on surnames in a similar way, often appropriating names of ethnic groups to the south of Mustang. While the Bistas are no longer recognized by the Nepali government today, they still hold social power in the region. One trekking guide who was originally from Lo Manthang told me that part of the reason the local people still respect and listen to the royal family is because \u201cit is past karma,\u201d so the people of Mustang just know to follow them. Whatever the reason, it became clear to me that the Loba put more trust and respect in the royal family of Mustang than the Nepali government.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBeyond language, there are other clear physical markers which point to the Loba being more in line with Tibetan culture. The clothing, buildings, and even the landscape of Upper Mustang all mirror that which is found in Tibet. While my friends from other regions of Nepal frequently spoke of wanting to travel to other regions of the country, the Loba I know in Kagbeni only ever spoke of wishing to visit Tibet. This is not purely for religious reasons, though going to pilgrimage sites such as Manasarovar lake certainly contributes to this desire. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThis closeness to Tibetan culture was further emphasized after 1959, when Mustang became a one of many settlement areas for Tibetan refugees \u201cdue to its close proximity to Tibetan territory, strong kinship and monastic relations with Tibetan populations and social\u2013physical landscape congruent to the Tibetan Plateau\u201d (Murton 2017: 538). Here, it is clear that the association between Mustang and Tibet goes past simply proximity or culture. In popular discourse, however, Mustang is still essentialized as being as close as you can get to \u201cauthentic\u201d Tibetan culture as it was before 1959. This perception is damaging for many reasons, and will be explored more in relation to tourism.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nReshaping Mustang<\/h3>\n\n\n\nMustang, Nepal has been\nshaped both internally and externally by religion and its relationship to\npolitics and culture. Buddhist and Bon structures have physically reshaped the\nlandscape, linking to mythology that maps onto it. These recreations of the\nland go back hundreds of years, to when Guru Rinpoche first came through the\nKali Gandaki in the 8th<\/sup> century. Bon influences on the land go back\neven further. The mingling of Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism has taken on ulterior\nmotives in the last century, however. Due to the governmental policies and lack\nof infrastructure in the region, Loba were pushed to either assimilate and\nbecome more recognizably \u201cNepali\u201d (meaning more Hindu), or leave for better\nopportunities elsewhere. The relationship with Tibet to the north was largely\nhalted as well, with only a trade fair in the summer remaining.<\/p>\n\n\n\nTurning\ntowards the tourism industry, the region is frequently characterized as a\nstronghold of Tibetan culture and religion, preserved by the restriction of the\nregion. Government policies, tourism agencies, and even museums point to\nMustang as being a special place in Nepal because of the presence of Tibetan\nBuddhism and Bon in its valleys. Kagbeni, on the border between Upper and Lower\nMustang, shows us that this popular essentialization of Loba people as purely\nreligious in many ways misinterprets the role of religion in daily life. Yes,\nsignals of Buddhism and Bon and Hinduism abound in the small town, and some\npeople do sit outside in the sun with prayer wheels spinning in their hands,\nbut this misses the complexity of the Kagbeni reality. Lives in Kagbeni are complicated and reshaped\nconstantly by the government, religions, and tourists intersecting within its\nspace. In the following chapter, I turn to look more closely at the impacts of\ntourism in and scholarship about Kagbeni and Upper Mustang.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTourism: Exceptionalism, Pilgrimage, and Romance<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Culture, Landscapes, and Identity Religious LandscapesThe Smell of the CowsTeam Tashi DelekReshaping Mustang Towards the end of my time in Kagbeni, I walked into the lounge area of the hotel I was living at to find Aama laying on one of the benches, reading quietly aloud to herself. Aama is the matriarch of the hotel, … Continue reading Religion<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3090,"featured_media":145,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-8","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3090"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8"}],"version-history":[{"count":18,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":368,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions\/368"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/145"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
Kunga\u2019s comment about people becoming \u201cmore religious\u201d as they age points to a divide in how people think about religion. If religion is expected to be primarily text-based, then he is right that Aama is becoming more religious as she begins to read more Tibetan Buddhist teachings. This understanding of religion leaves out the impact that it has on every-day life. For lay people living in Kagbeni, the actual texts are not important. At the same time, students at the monastic school have classes on the dharma<\/em>, the teaching of the Buddha, and there is a ceremony that involves carrying the physical books of the Buddha\u2019s teachings around the boundaries of the town. In other words, the texts are not unimportant or irrelevant to the presence of religions in Kagbeni, but they are not the focus of lived religion there. Sound arguably becomes more important than the texts in this setting, as it reshapes the landscape and is used by monks and lay people alike. Whether or not lay people know the reason for the power in speaking certain words like om mani padme hum<\/em>, the phrase is a piece of daily interaction with the divine.<\/p>\n\n\n\nKagbeni lives at an interesting set of crossroads. There is the physical crossroads built by the government, bringing traders and trekkers north to Lo and pilgrims east to Muktinath. There is the cultural divide expressed by Kunga, separating Upper and Lower Mustang. This divide is not only about commitment to tradition, it also implicates the conflicting Nepali, Tibetan, and Loba identities. At the borders between these categories, people in Kagbeni are reshaped by the shifting factors every day. <\/p>\n\n\n\nReligious Landscapes<\/h3>\n\n\n\nThe primary religious influences found in Kagbeni are Tibetan Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism. All three mingle and overlap, sharing sites, beliefs, and practitioners. In all three, the landscape is an essential feature. Landmarks like mountains are said to be the homes of gods, and the convergences of rivers are sacred spaces. These religious landmarks in turn map onto real physical locations, allowing spiritual authority over key sacred sites to be translated into political power (Ramble 1995: 93). Upper Mustang presents a good example of this relationships between sacred and political space, as Lo Manthang is also the seat of a principal territorial deity in local cosmologies, and the surrounding areas are home to lesser gods (Ramble 1995: 91). The seat of political power in the region is also the seat of religious power. This dynamic of mapping religion onto the landscape is not unique to Kagbeni nor to the religions present there, yet it remains an important aspect of the Tibetan Buddhist and Bon ontologies. In addition to the daily practices of spinning prayer wheels or attending to the household gods, this shows us that the entire landscape of Mustang is covered in and changed by interactions with religion.<\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the river\nconvergence south of the gompa<\/em>, a\nsmall park of sorts holds both Hindu and Buddhist shrines. Hindu pilgrims and\nnovice monks from the monastic school wash themselves in the water as the smoke\nfrom incense flows over them. The prayer wall in the gompa<\/em> complex stretches down the bank, right to where the two\nrivers meet. Prayer flags are wrapped in tree branches and hang from the\nbridge. This site \u2013 right next to the main road through town \u2013 claims the\nattention of passers-by. It\u2019s colorful, loud, and often bustling with activity.\nBells are rung by pilgrims passing through, mingling with the beeping horns of\njeeps and the Bollywood music spilling from the windows of buses. Along with\nthe ch\u00f6rtens<\/em> in the streets and the\nmonastic school up the road, it is what most people passing through would point\nto as markers of \nKagbeni\u2019s religious nature. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n Figure 25: Incense burning at the convergence of the rivers <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\n Figure 26: Prayer flags lining a bridge over the Kali Gandaki <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nAn emphasis on\nphysical, visual, markings on the landscape negates the way the landscape of\nMustang has been shaped for centuries by various mythologies and sonic\nvibrations that claim space. In the Tibetan\nBuddhist ontology, \u201cTibetan architecture, landscape, and religious\nbeliefs are woven together, forming a sacred realm. The theme of the mandala is\npresent everywhere one goes; as a spiritual vehicle and a general model\u201d\n(Xu 2010: 182). The ch\u00f6rten<\/em> is one\nstructure which weaves together these themes into the form of a mandala. As Xu\nexplains, the physical structure of a ch\u00f6rten<\/em>\nis a three-dimensional representation of a mandala, a model of the universe.\nThese structures are sprinkled across the landscape of Mustang, and throughout\nKagbeni. Varying in size and style, they are reminders of the nature of the\nuniverse, and \u201cof the spiritual realm in which Mustang is embedded\u201d (Bubriski\net al. 2018: 19). Similarly, the music used in pujas creates a mandala through\nthe way sound is created (Ellingson 1979).<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\nFigure 27: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> with paintings inside in the middle of a Kagbeni street <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\n Figure 28: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> and communal washing area in a Kagbeni street <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n Figure 29: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> at the end of a prayer wall on the peninsula between the two rivers <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nBecause of this\nemphasis on the land as being a home to deities and itself a mandala, Tibetan\nBuddhist teachings often emphasize the proper use of land in order to prevent\npollution, especially of water resources. For example, by describing how a\ntoilet should be built to promote a healthy environment, or promoting the\nplanting of trees to prevent deforestation (Vigoda 1989: 26). While water is\ngenerally sacred, or purifying, in the Tibetan landscape it takes on the\nadditional context of being scarce, and thus even more important for sustaining\nlife. <\/p>\n\n\n\nOne practice\nfrequently associated with Mustang is Sky Burial. This death ritual is often\ndescribed in documentaries and tourism materials as something that keeps\nMustang linked to the past. Vigoda explains that this is yet another example of\na religious practice reacting to the conditions of the environment. She says:<\/p>\n\n\n\n[Sky Burial] is carried out at the tops of hills and mountains, where bodies are chopped up and fed to the birds\u2026 [it] is indicative of how the lack of natural resources, and the Buddhist idea of the interdependence of all things, are manifested in a religious custom (Vigoda 1989: 29). <\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nIn recent years, however, the practice has\ndied out almost completely. There are a few reasons for this. First, Himalayan\nVultures are now an endangered species. These giant birds who once played a\nlarge role in disposing of corpses were impacted by the use of DDT in India,\nand have thus decreased in population considerably. I noticed a distinct lack\nof vultures on my second visit to Mustang in 2018, whereas my group had\ngleefully spotted a few of the birds two years before. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe second reason for\nthe deemphasis on Sky Burials is linked to global trends of modernization.\nTraditional practices, especially around death, are often looked down on or\nseen as backward by more powerful, \u2018modern\u2019 or \u2018developed\u2019 countries. Even\nthough Mustang is remote and difficult to navigate, it has been linked to trade\nnetworks for hundreds of years. Many of the wealthier families in Mustang have\nhouses in Kathmandu as well, and often travel outside the region. Seasonal jobs\nbring people to India and Tibet for trade or construction work, and children\nare often sent to school in Pokhara or Kathmandu. As a result, there are many\nways that the communities of Mustang are shaped by global trends, even without\ntaking the impact of tourism into consideration. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the same time, the\nimagination of Mustang as a stronghold of Tibetan culture is one of the main\ndraws for tourism in the region, and there are many groups which are trying to\npreserve the culture of the region. The perception that Mustang\u2019s culture and\nlanguage is unique and under attack by globalization and modernization is\nprevalent among NGOs internal and external to Nepal. While there are some\ngroups like the American Himalayan Foundation that strive towards cultural\npreservation, Sky Burials are not the focus of preservation initiatives. On the\nother hand, the few Sky Burials that do still happen today have become a draw\nfor tourists who want to see a different culture in action; preservation for\nthe sake of tourism has a different sort of friction. <\/p>\n\n\n\nWhile the Buddha\u2019s\nteachings make an impact on practitioners\u2019 relationship to the land, so does\nthe presence of the other deities in the Tibetan Buddhist and Bon cosmologies.\nThese deities inhabit the sky, atmosphere, and earth, and can be both\nbenevolent and wrathful (25). The domains of these deities recognized in\nTibetan Buddhism and Bon map onto the physical landscape of Mustang, and are\nmirrored by the structures built. In Mustang, the emphasis is placed most\nheavily on the mythology of Guru Padmasambhava, or Guru Rinpoche. In fact, the\nfigure of Guru Rinpoche is more important than that of the Buddha, and it is\nhis likeness that sits at the altar of some monasteries. <\/p>\n\n\n\nMuktinath, the\npilgrimage site to the east of Kagbeni, is one site where Guru Padmasambhava is\nsaid to have stopped, thus making it an important Buddhist site in addition to its\nimportance for Hindu pilgrims. A few days\u2019 walk north, outside of Gami village,\nthe longest mani<\/em> wall in Nepal sprawls\nacross a plateau, marking the site of a battle between Guru Padmasambhava and a\ndemoness. The canyon walls are blue and red with her blood, and a ch\u00f6rten<\/em> built in the 8th<\/sup>\ncentury safeguards her heart, cut out by Guru Padmasambhava. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Figure 30: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> north of Gami, where the demoness\u2019 heart is kept <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nIn addition to shaping the physical environment with ch\u00f6rtens<\/em>, monasteries, sound, and prayer flags, much of Tibetan Buddhism focuses on turning inwards. In the harsh landscape of high-altitude desert, methods of self-realization are emphasized in order to have a chance of escaping samsara<\/em>, the cycle of rebirth, in a future life (Gualtieri 1983: 170-1). As discussed above, this often involves sensory contact with mantras, whether it be chanting them or carving or painting them on rock walls. Peter Crossley-Holland explains another aspect of the mantra\u2019s significance. According to him, \u201ca mantra is a symbol for the divine being it is said to embody, but it is also believed to be more than that: it is believed to be an actual emanation from that being, and so an aspect of it\u201d (Crossley-Holland 1976: 50). Following this logic, sensory interaction with a mantra is interaction with the divine. Similarly, the mantras written all over the landscape help to cloak it in the presence of the divine.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis ability of the mantra to reshape the landscape is exemplified further in the prayer flags hung from high surfaces all across Tibetan Buddhist communities. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Prayer flags in the wind<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nFigure 31: Prayer flags flapping in the wind <\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\nMy friend Sherab explained to me that the Buddhist prayer flags are hung in the windiest places, because every time they flap they send the mantra written on them out into the world. As discussed earlier, mantras have the ability to reshape people and places through sensory contact. Imagine a line of flags, whipping back and forth. With each movement, waves of vibrations are carried across the landscape, spreading the mantra written on their threads as far as the wind will carry it. These waves of vibrations create sounds, too [sound clip of flags in the wind]. In his study of voice, place, and identity in Kenya, Andrew Eisenberg writes about the territoriality of sound, the ways that sounds can create social space based on how far they travel and who interacts with them. He argues that \u201csonic practices territorialize by virtue of combining physical vibration with bodily sensation and culturally conditioned meanings\u201d (2015: 199). As the prayer flags send out their vibrations in the wind, they shape the landscape around them into a sacred space, from which liberation becomes more accessible. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe\nphysical vibrations emanating from flags reminds us how religious icons and\ntexts have the ability to transform \u201cthe ordinary, coarse world into an\nextraordinary realm of spiritual wisdom and compassion\u201d (Farkas 2009: 30). From the way mandalas are created in buildings\nto represent the universe, to the dying practice of Sky Burials, to the sounds\nof prayer flags in the wind, we see how \u201cterritorial and spatial\ndimensions are intrinsically linked to the practice of\nreligion\u201d (Terrone 2014: 463).This\nis not religion that adheres primarily to specific doctrines, but is rather a\nform of religion incorporated into daily life through smaller practices and\nreflections of the landscape.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nThe Smell of the Cows<\/h3>\n\n\n\n Figure 31: Cows in the street in Kagbeni <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Cows in the morning<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nThroughout\nmy time in Kagbeni, I heard over and over about people who had left the town and\ncame back years later, or who now live elsewhere and visit as often as\npossible. I was surprised by the number of visitors I met in the month I was living\nthere, and how positively they reminisced about returning home. When I asked\npeople if they would want to return and live in Kagbeni instead of only\nvisiting, they said things like \u201cthat would be nice\u201d or \u201coh yes, I wish,\u201d but\nin a way that told me they never would. I became curious about why many people return\nto visit, but so few come back for good.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis question could be answered in part by looking at the factors limiting opportunities in Mustang, which is one of the main reasons people leave. Not surprisingly, the restriction of the region from the 1960s onwards played a large role in Mustang\u2019s ability to grow and change over time. Manjushree Thapa explains this dynamic:<\/p>\n\n\n\nRestriction had not kept Upper Mustang beyond the reach of the modern world. Rather, it had forced people out. No new sources of income had entered the area, nor had traditional occupations found means to grow. The history-book pattern \u2014 of farming in the spring, animal husbandry in the summer, and trading in the winter \u2014 had remained the same for centuries; it had stagnated (Thapa 2008: 80).<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis restriction was\naccentuated by Chinese policies to the North as well. Following 1959 and the\ninvasion of Tibet, \u201cChinese authorities had clamped down on the practice of\ngrazing of Nepali animals on Tibetan grassland\u201d (Thapa 2008: 51). This means\nthat there was less dung that could be used for fuel, less animal meat, and\nless revenue. Migratory grazing was no longer an option in the way it once was.\nThis policy of restriction is promoted as something that protects the culture\nand keeps the area as a living museum, but has evidently harmed Mustang greatly\nafter decades of not providing support to the region. Without opportunities beyond\nagriculture and tourism, people who have the means to leave do, and only some return.<\/p>\n\n\n\nIt\nquickly became clear to me upon arriving in Mustang that the locals are heavily\nimpacted by the land. We have already seen this to some extent in the way that\nbuildings are made, and the relationships between religion and landscape. This\narea north of the Himalayas is classified as high-altitude desert, with\nlow-lying trees sparsely spread along the gorge. The endangered blue sheep roam\nthe hillsides above 3500 meters, and Himalayan vultures occasionally fly\noverhead. Wind and water have shaped the Kali Gandaki gorge (which was once on\nthe bottom of the ocean floor), but they have also shaped the people who live\nwithin its walls. <\/p>\n\n\n\nTowards the end of my stay in Kagbeni, I had the opportunity to meet three siblings who are originally from the town but now live in New York City. They were a few years older than me. The sister had moved to the United States for school, and was working on a master\u2019s degree. When I met the siblings, they were visiting their mother and grandmother, and said that they would be in Mustang for two months before returning to the USA. They missed this place, they told me, and needed to get a break from the hectic lifestyle of the city. I began to tell them about my project, explaining that the idea started because I was curious about the relationship with people and place. The sister nodded and said \u201cthe people here, they really respect the land, you know? Not like in New York.\u201d It is clear that, in Kagbeni, much more attention is given to what comes from the land, and how people interact with the land on a daily basis. In New York City, the sister argued, this connection, this respect, was lost. This sentiment was communicated to me by other people I met, like Kunga, who took such pride in the fresh food of Kagbeni, and it made the cultural use of the land another site of differentiation for the people who spoke about Mustang. Just as with the political and geographic boundaries placed on Upper Mustang, statements like the sister\u2019s once again distance Mustang from other places, this time focusing on the people rather than the land. This is done by both outsiders as well as locals. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAnother friend \u2013 Mama \u2013 told me a similar story about another Loba who lived in New York for many years before returning to Kagbeni: \u201che just gave up everything and moved back here to Kagbeni… he just loved this place, man. The smell of the cows.\u201d As someone who lives in Kathmandu but returns to his home in Tiri (across the river from Kagbeni) a few times a year, Mama showed a sense of disbelief at the man in his story. He too had moved away, made a new life and started a family in the city. One of his brothers was living in New York, studying to be a photographer. And yet, they were both pulled back to Kagbeni and Tiri, just like the three siblings earlier. Mama may have laughed about the smells of the livestock, but even he admitted that he would like to visit more than he does. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the monastery, the monks provide another example of a lasting commitment to the Kagbeni community. The khenpo<\/em>, who also happens to be Mama\u2019s brother, was originally from Tiri and came back to head the monastery after receiving a higher level of monastic education in India. In addition, one of the younger monks, Dorje, was saw his role at the monastery as a service to his community. In his 20s, Dorje left Tiri for a few years to go to school and live in Kathmandu, but has since returned in order to give back to Kagbeni as the middle son of his family. Dorje explained that it is common for people from the surrounding towns to serve at the monastery for a few years, without the expectation that they would remain a monk. In his case, Dorje spent one year at the monastery before returning to Kathmandu for a year, and is now finishing his time at Kag Chode in a two-year segment. He prefers living in Kathmandu, like many other men around his age that I talked to, but also recognizes that it is nice to be out of the city and back where his family is from. When asked if he would continue to be a monk when his three years of service were over, Dorje admitted that he had not yet decided. <\/p>\n\n\n\nOne of my older\nstudents showed this commitment in a different way. In order to be ordained at\na higher level, monks in the Sakya sect must receive further schooling in\nIndia. Of the 64 students at Kag Chode, it is likely that only a few will\nfollow this path. As they get older, students often decide to disrobe and\nreenter lay society. Since the school provides both a monastic and secular\neducation, many families send their children there for the free education and\nhousing, knowing that their children will be able to succeed with the education\nwhether or not they remain as monks. When I talked to one student about his\nplans following his graduation, he told me that he wants to be ordained at a\nhigher level, which means going to India. After receiving this further\neducation, his goal is to return to Mustang and help run the gompa<\/em> and teach younger students. <\/p>\n\n\n\nPeople\nleave Mustang for school, better jobs, seasonal work, or other opportunities.\nThey come back for different seasonal work, festivals, or to visit family. Because\nthe winters are harsh in Mustang, many people leave for the season. While a few\nolder community members and children stay behind to keep the town running in\nthe coldest months, the majority of people find work or live elsewhere. The\nentire monastic school, for instance, picks up and moves to Pokhara for a few\nmonths. This seasonal migration is by no means a new phenomenon, and shows that\neven when Mustang was restricted to foreigners, people have always come and\ngone with some frequency. Their claim of being Loba, however, remains with\nthem. People living in Kathmandu identify where they are from or what their\nethnic background is when they talk about their life in the city, and they also\nlabel others in this way. For example, one trekking guide mentioned that he has\n\u201ca lot of Manangi friends.\u201d Manang is the region to the east of Mustang, and\neven if his friends live predominantly in Kathmandu, the guide still identifies\nthem as being from Manang. In the same way, people often refer to a place as\n\u201cmy village,\u201d even when they have lived in Kathmandu for most of their lives.\nAlong the same lines, people who live in Kathmandu almost never say that they\nare form Kathmandu. <\/p>\n\n\n\nClaiming\nthe identity of the village or region your family is from is common throughout\nNepal, and is in many ways related to the caste system and Hinduization in the\nPanchayat era. This is also in part due to the wide diversity of ethnic groups\nand languages in Nepal, and the original formation of the country in the 18th<\/sup>\ncentury as a unified kingdom made up of many smaller, previously distinct\ngroups. While people in Mustang are definitively Nepali, they have a deep\nconnection to their homeland. As with the gompa<\/em>\ndonor now living in Hong Kong, many people want to maintain a connection to the\nregion and support it when they can. In Mustang\nBhot in Fragments<\/em>, Manjushree Thapa tells the story of one man who lived in\nKathmandu many years before returning to Mustang, hoping to improve the area after\ngrowing accustomed to the ways of the city. When asked why he wanted to come\nback and work on developing the area, he responded \u201cthis is home. If we don\u2019t\nimprove it, who will?\u201d (Thapa 2008: 50). This statement not only shows the deep\nconnection that Loba have to their communities, it also implies that other\npeople cannot be counted on to improve life there. After a history of being let\ndown by the Nepali government and other development projects, it makes sense\nthat the community would take it into their own hands to build the road north\nto Tibet, to spur the possibility of more opportunities.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nTeam Tashi Delek<\/em><\/h3>\n\n\n\nUp until this point, there have been occasional points of friction between Nepali and Tibetan and Loba identities. In ethnicity, religion, culture, and language, people of Mustang appear to be closer to Tibet than Nepal. This perception is held by most Nepali citizens, both from Mustang and from elsewhere. At the same time, these borderland communities are still Nepali, learning the official language and singing the national anthem each day in school. One day in class at Kag Chode, I was working with the students to practice grouping words that use the same vowel sounds. I created teams, splitting the class in half, and asked what they wanted their team names to be. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Tashi Delek<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Namaste<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe students broke into laughter, pleased with the names they had chosen. <\/p>\n\n\n\nI bring up this moment with the students (this class was ages 10 through 12) because it points to a divide in how Loba people perceive themselves in relation to Nepal. Tashi<\/em> delek<\/em> and namaste<\/em> are Tibetan and Nepali words respectively, and are both used as greetings. The local language in Mustang is Loke, which is closely related to Tibetan. As a result, tashi delek<\/em> is almost always what you hear being tossed around as you walk through the streets. Namaste <\/em>is reserved for foreigners and other Nepalis. While children are taught both Nepali and English in school (in addition to Tibetan language at monastic schools), people primarily still speak in Loke in Kagbeni, rarely switching into Nepali or English unless there is another person around who speaks one of those languages. English, Nepali, and Tibetan music mingle in the streets of Kagbeni, as people play music to accompany the harvest, household chores, or evening downtime. Each language carries a different cadence, mediating spoken interactions between locals and others passing through.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis divide is in part due to the Nepali government\u2019s history of aid (or lack of it) in Mustang, but is also deeply rooted in the cultural identity of Mustang. The heart of this issue comes from the distance that is felt between what it means to be Nepali and what it means to be Tibetan, and finding a place somewhere in between. While giving myself and a Nepali business group from Kathmandu a tour of Kagbeni, Mama explained <\/p>\n\n\n\nUpper Mustang, Lower Mustang, we want to be called Tibetan, but we are not Tibetan. Tibetans are migratory people you know? But because I was born here I can say that I\u2019m Tibetan. Historically we wandered around place to place with the yaks looking for grass.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis points to the\ndivide between how Loba people see themselves and how other Tibetan and Nepali\ngroups see them. My friend explained that even though he is not \u2018Tibetan,\u2019 he\nstill identifies as being Tibetan, and does so proudly. Similar sentiments were\nexpressed to me by other people in Kagbeni. Throughout Kagbeni, and Upper\nMustang to the north, people align themselves more closely with Tibetan culture\nthan Nepali, while still maintaining their Nepali identity as well. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe royal family of Mustang provides a good example of the complicated relationship between Nepali and Tibetan identities. The family is said to be descended from Tibetan kings, yet today holds the surname Bista. This once again traces to the Rana regime and the following Panchayat era, in which \u201cof necessity, the [Loba] colonized themselves\u201d (Thapa 2008: 124). The name Bista comes from high-caste Hindu families originally, and was thus appropriated in order to increase the family\u2019s authority and recognition in the eyes of the Nepali government (Thapa 2008). Other Loba took on surnames in a similar way, often appropriating names of ethnic groups to the south of Mustang. While the Bistas are no longer recognized by the Nepali government today, they still hold social power in the region. One trekking guide who was originally from Lo Manthang told me that part of the reason the local people still respect and listen to the royal family is because \u201cit is past karma,\u201d so the people of Mustang just know to follow them. Whatever the reason, it became clear to me that the Loba put more trust and respect in the royal family of Mustang than the Nepali government.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBeyond language, there are other clear physical markers which point to the Loba being more in line with Tibetan culture. The clothing, buildings, and even the landscape of Upper Mustang all mirror that which is found in Tibet. While my friends from other regions of Nepal frequently spoke of wanting to travel to other regions of the country, the Loba I know in Kagbeni only ever spoke of wishing to visit Tibet. This is not purely for religious reasons, though going to pilgrimage sites such as Manasarovar lake certainly contributes to this desire. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThis closeness to Tibetan culture was further emphasized after 1959, when Mustang became a one of many settlement areas for Tibetan refugees \u201cdue to its close proximity to Tibetan territory, strong kinship and monastic relations with Tibetan populations and social\u2013physical landscape congruent to the Tibetan Plateau\u201d (Murton 2017: 538). Here, it is clear that the association between Mustang and Tibet goes past simply proximity or culture. In popular discourse, however, Mustang is still essentialized as being as close as you can get to \u201cauthentic\u201d Tibetan culture as it was before 1959. This perception is damaging for many reasons, and will be explored more in relation to tourism.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nReshaping Mustang<\/h3>\n\n\n\nMustang, Nepal has been\nshaped both internally and externally by religion and its relationship to\npolitics and culture. Buddhist and Bon structures have physically reshaped the\nlandscape, linking to mythology that maps onto it. These recreations of the\nland go back hundreds of years, to when Guru Rinpoche first came through the\nKali Gandaki in the 8th<\/sup> century. Bon influences on the land go back\neven further. The mingling of Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism has taken on ulterior\nmotives in the last century, however. Due to the governmental policies and lack\nof infrastructure in the region, Loba were pushed to either assimilate and\nbecome more recognizably \u201cNepali\u201d (meaning more Hindu), or leave for better\nopportunities elsewhere. The relationship with Tibet to the north was largely\nhalted as well, with only a trade fair in the summer remaining.<\/p>\n\n\n\nTurning\ntowards the tourism industry, the region is frequently characterized as a\nstronghold of Tibetan culture and religion, preserved by the restriction of the\nregion. Government policies, tourism agencies, and even museums point to\nMustang as being a special place in Nepal because of the presence of Tibetan\nBuddhism and Bon in its valleys. Kagbeni, on the border between Upper and Lower\nMustang, shows us that this popular essentialization of Loba people as purely\nreligious in many ways misinterprets the role of religion in daily life. Yes,\nsignals of Buddhism and Bon and Hinduism abound in the small town, and some\npeople do sit outside in the sun with prayer wheels spinning in their hands,\nbut this misses the complexity of the Kagbeni reality. Lives in Kagbeni are complicated and reshaped\nconstantly by the government, religions, and tourists intersecting within its\nspace. In the following chapter, I turn to look more closely at the impacts of\ntourism in and scholarship about Kagbeni and Upper Mustang.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTourism: Exceptionalism, Pilgrimage, and Romance<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Culture, Landscapes, and Identity Religious LandscapesThe Smell of the CowsTeam Tashi DelekReshaping Mustang Towards the end of my time in Kagbeni, I walked into the lounge area of the hotel I was living at to find Aama laying on one of the benches, reading quietly aloud to herself. Aama is the matriarch of the hotel, … Continue reading Religion<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3090,"featured_media":145,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-8","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3090"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8"}],"version-history":[{"count":18,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":368,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions\/368"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/145"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
Kagbeni lives at an interesting set of crossroads. There is the physical crossroads built by the government, bringing traders and trekkers north to Lo and pilgrims east to Muktinath. There is the cultural divide expressed by Kunga, separating Upper and Lower Mustang. This divide is not only about commitment to tradition, it also implicates the conflicting Nepali, Tibetan, and Loba identities. At the borders between these categories, people in Kagbeni are reshaped by the shifting factors every day. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The primary religious influences found in Kagbeni are Tibetan Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism. All three mingle and overlap, sharing sites, beliefs, and practitioners. In all three, the landscape is an essential feature. Landmarks like mountains are said to be the homes of gods, and the convergences of rivers are sacred spaces. These religious landmarks in turn map onto real physical locations, allowing spiritual authority over key sacred sites to be translated into political power (Ramble 1995: 93). Upper Mustang presents a good example of this relationships between sacred and political space, as Lo Manthang is also the seat of a principal territorial deity in local cosmologies, and the surrounding areas are home to lesser gods (Ramble 1995: 91). The seat of political power in the region is also the seat of religious power. This dynamic of mapping religion onto the landscape is not unique to Kagbeni nor to the religions present there, yet it remains an important aspect of the Tibetan Buddhist and Bon ontologies. In addition to the daily practices of spinning prayer wheels or attending to the household gods, this shows us that the entire landscape of Mustang is covered in and changed by interactions with religion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
At the river\nconvergence south of the gompa<\/em>, a\nsmall park of sorts holds both Hindu and Buddhist shrines. Hindu pilgrims and\nnovice monks from the monastic school wash themselves in the water as the smoke\nfrom incense flows over them. The prayer wall in the gompa<\/em> complex stretches down the bank, right to where the two\nrivers meet. Prayer flags are wrapped in tree branches and hang from the\nbridge. This site \u2013 right next to the main road through town \u2013 claims the\nattention of passers-by. It\u2019s colorful, loud, and often bustling with activity.\nBells are rung by pilgrims passing through, mingling with the beeping horns of\njeeps and the Bollywood music spilling from the windows of buses. Along with\nthe ch\u00f6rtens<\/em> in the streets and the\nmonastic school up the road, it is what most people passing through would point\nto as markers of \nKagbeni\u2019s religious nature. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n Figure 25: Incense burning at the convergence of the rivers <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\n Figure 26: Prayer flags lining a bridge over the Kali Gandaki <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nAn emphasis on\nphysical, visual, markings on the landscape negates the way the landscape of\nMustang has been shaped for centuries by various mythologies and sonic\nvibrations that claim space. In the Tibetan\nBuddhist ontology, \u201cTibetan architecture, landscape, and religious\nbeliefs are woven together, forming a sacred realm. The theme of the mandala is\npresent everywhere one goes; as a spiritual vehicle and a general model\u201d\n(Xu 2010: 182). The ch\u00f6rten<\/em> is one\nstructure which weaves together these themes into the form of a mandala. As Xu\nexplains, the physical structure of a ch\u00f6rten<\/em>\nis a three-dimensional representation of a mandala, a model of the universe.\nThese structures are sprinkled across the landscape of Mustang, and throughout\nKagbeni. Varying in size and style, they are reminders of the nature of the\nuniverse, and \u201cof the spiritual realm in which Mustang is embedded\u201d (Bubriski\net al. 2018: 19). Similarly, the music used in pujas creates a mandala through\nthe way sound is created (Ellingson 1979).<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\nFigure 27: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> with paintings inside in the middle of a Kagbeni street <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\n Figure 28: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> and communal washing area in a Kagbeni street <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n Figure 29: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> at the end of a prayer wall on the peninsula between the two rivers <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nBecause of this\nemphasis on the land as being a home to deities and itself a mandala, Tibetan\nBuddhist teachings often emphasize the proper use of land in order to prevent\npollution, especially of water resources. For example, by describing how a\ntoilet should be built to promote a healthy environment, or promoting the\nplanting of trees to prevent deforestation (Vigoda 1989: 26). While water is\ngenerally sacred, or purifying, in the Tibetan landscape it takes on the\nadditional context of being scarce, and thus even more important for sustaining\nlife. <\/p>\n\n\n\nOne practice\nfrequently associated with Mustang is Sky Burial. This death ritual is often\ndescribed in documentaries and tourism materials as something that keeps\nMustang linked to the past. Vigoda explains that this is yet another example of\na religious practice reacting to the conditions of the environment. She says:<\/p>\n\n\n\n[Sky Burial] is carried out at the tops of hills and mountains, where bodies are chopped up and fed to the birds\u2026 [it] is indicative of how the lack of natural resources, and the Buddhist idea of the interdependence of all things, are manifested in a religious custom (Vigoda 1989: 29). <\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nIn recent years, however, the practice has\ndied out almost completely. There are a few reasons for this. First, Himalayan\nVultures are now an endangered species. These giant birds who once played a\nlarge role in disposing of corpses were impacted by the use of DDT in India,\nand have thus decreased in population considerably. I noticed a distinct lack\nof vultures on my second visit to Mustang in 2018, whereas my group had\ngleefully spotted a few of the birds two years before. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe second reason for\nthe deemphasis on Sky Burials is linked to global trends of modernization.\nTraditional practices, especially around death, are often looked down on or\nseen as backward by more powerful, \u2018modern\u2019 or \u2018developed\u2019 countries. Even\nthough Mustang is remote and difficult to navigate, it has been linked to trade\nnetworks for hundreds of years. Many of the wealthier families in Mustang have\nhouses in Kathmandu as well, and often travel outside the region. Seasonal jobs\nbring people to India and Tibet for trade or construction work, and children\nare often sent to school in Pokhara or Kathmandu. As a result, there are many\nways that the communities of Mustang are shaped by global trends, even without\ntaking the impact of tourism into consideration. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the same time, the\nimagination of Mustang as a stronghold of Tibetan culture is one of the main\ndraws for tourism in the region, and there are many groups which are trying to\npreserve the culture of the region. The perception that Mustang\u2019s culture and\nlanguage is unique and under attack by globalization and modernization is\nprevalent among NGOs internal and external to Nepal. While there are some\ngroups like the American Himalayan Foundation that strive towards cultural\npreservation, Sky Burials are not the focus of preservation initiatives. On the\nother hand, the few Sky Burials that do still happen today have become a draw\nfor tourists who want to see a different culture in action; preservation for\nthe sake of tourism has a different sort of friction. <\/p>\n\n\n\nWhile the Buddha\u2019s\nteachings make an impact on practitioners\u2019 relationship to the land, so does\nthe presence of the other deities in the Tibetan Buddhist and Bon cosmologies.\nThese deities inhabit the sky, atmosphere, and earth, and can be both\nbenevolent and wrathful (25). The domains of these deities recognized in\nTibetan Buddhism and Bon map onto the physical landscape of Mustang, and are\nmirrored by the structures built. In Mustang, the emphasis is placed most\nheavily on the mythology of Guru Padmasambhava, or Guru Rinpoche. In fact, the\nfigure of Guru Rinpoche is more important than that of the Buddha, and it is\nhis likeness that sits at the altar of some monasteries. <\/p>\n\n\n\nMuktinath, the\npilgrimage site to the east of Kagbeni, is one site where Guru Padmasambhava is\nsaid to have stopped, thus making it an important Buddhist site in addition to its\nimportance for Hindu pilgrims. A few days\u2019 walk north, outside of Gami village,\nthe longest mani<\/em> wall in Nepal sprawls\nacross a plateau, marking the site of a battle between Guru Padmasambhava and a\ndemoness. The canyon walls are blue and red with her blood, and a ch\u00f6rten<\/em> built in the 8th<\/sup>\ncentury safeguards her heart, cut out by Guru Padmasambhava. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Figure 30: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> north of Gami, where the demoness\u2019 heart is kept <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nIn addition to shaping the physical environment with ch\u00f6rtens<\/em>, monasteries, sound, and prayer flags, much of Tibetan Buddhism focuses on turning inwards. In the harsh landscape of high-altitude desert, methods of self-realization are emphasized in order to have a chance of escaping samsara<\/em>, the cycle of rebirth, in a future life (Gualtieri 1983: 170-1). As discussed above, this often involves sensory contact with mantras, whether it be chanting them or carving or painting them on rock walls. Peter Crossley-Holland explains another aspect of the mantra\u2019s significance. According to him, \u201ca mantra is a symbol for the divine being it is said to embody, but it is also believed to be more than that: it is believed to be an actual emanation from that being, and so an aspect of it\u201d (Crossley-Holland 1976: 50). Following this logic, sensory interaction with a mantra is interaction with the divine. Similarly, the mantras written all over the landscape help to cloak it in the presence of the divine.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis ability of the mantra to reshape the landscape is exemplified further in the prayer flags hung from high surfaces all across Tibetan Buddhist communities. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Prayer flags in the wind<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nFigure 31: Prayer flags flapping in the wind <\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\nMy friend Sherab explained to me that the Buddhist prayer flags are hung in the windiest places, because every time they flap they send the mantra written on them out into the world. As discussed earlier, mantras have the ability to reshape people and places through sensory contact. Imagine a line of flags, whipping back and forth. With each movement, waves of vibrations are carried across the landscape, spreading the mantra written on their threads as far as the wind will carry it. These waves of vibrations create sounds, too [sound clip of flags in the wind]. In his study of voice, place, and identity in Kenya, Andrew Eisenberg writes about the territoriality of sound, the ways that sounds can create social space based on how far they travel and who interacts with them. He argues that \u201csonic practices territorialize by virtue of combining physical vibration with bodily sensation and culturally conditioned meanings\u201d (2015: 199). As the prayer flags send out their vibrations in the wind, they shape the landscape around them into a sacred space, from which liberation becomes more accessible. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe\nphysical vibrations emanating from flags reminds us how religious icons and\ntexts have the ability to transform \u201cthe ordinary, coarse world into an\nextraordinary realm of spiritual wisdom and compassion\u201d (Farkas 2009: 30). From the way mandalas are created in buildings\nto represent the universe, to the dying practice of Sky Burials, to the sounds\nof prayer flags in the wind, we see how \u201cterritorial and spatial\ndimensions are intrinsically linked to the practice of\nreligion\u201d (Terrone 2014: 463).This\nis not religion that adheres primarily to specific doctrines, but is rather a\nform of religion incorporated into daily life through smaller practices and\nreflections of the landscape.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nThe Smell of the Cows<\/h3>\n\n\n\n Figure 31: Cows in the street in Kagbeni <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Cows in the morning<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nThroughout\nmy time in Kagbeni, I heard over and over about people who had left the town and\ncame back years later, or who now live elsewhere and visit as often as\npossible. I was surprised by the number of visitors I met in the month I was living\nthere, and how positively they reminisced about returning home. When I asked\npeople if they would want to return and live in Kagbeni instead of only\nvisiting, they said things like \u201cthat would be nice\u201d or \u201coh yes, I wish,\u201d but\nin a way that told me they never would. I became curious about why many people return\nto visit, but so few come back for good.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis question could be answered in part by looking at the factors limiting opportunities in Mustang, which is one of the main reasons people leave. Not surprisingly, the restriction of the region from the 1960s onwards played a large role in Mustang\u2019s ability to grow and change over time. Manjushree Thapa explains this dynamic:<\/p>\n\n\n\nRestriction had not kept Upper Mustang beyond the reach of the modern world. Rather, it had forced people out. No new sources of income had entered the area, nor had traditional occupations found means to grow. The history-book pattern \u2014 of farming in the spring, animal husbandry in the summer, and trading in the winter \u2014 had remained the same for centuries; it had stagnated (Thapa 2008: 80).<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis restriction was\naccentuated by Chinese policies to the North as well. Following 1959 and the\ninvasion of Tibet, \u201cChinese authorities had clamped down on the practice of\ngrazing of Nepali animals on Tibetan grassland\u201d (Thapa 2008: 51). This means\nthat there was less dung that could be used for fuel, less animal meat, and\nless revenue. Migratory grazing was no longer an option in the way it once was.\nThis policy of restriction is promoted as something that protects the culture\nand keeps the area as a living museum, but has evidently harmed Mustang greatly\nafter decades of not providing support to the region. Without opportunities beyond\nagriculture and tourism, people who have the means to leave do, and only some return.<\/p>\n\n\n\nIt\nquickly became clear to me upon arriving in Mustang that the locals are heavily\nimpacted by the land. We have already seen this to some extent in the way that\nbuildings are made, and the relationships between religion and landscape. This\narea north of the Himalayas is classified as high-altitude desert, with\nlow-lying trees sparsely spread along the gorge. The endangered blue sheep roam\nthe hillsides above 3500 meters, and Himalayan vultures occasionally fly\noverhead. Wind and water have shaped the Kali Gandaki gorge (which was once on\nthe bottom of the ocean floor), but they have also shaped the people who live\nwithin its walls. <\/p>\n\n\n\nTowards the end of my stay in Kagbeni, I had the opportunity to meet three siblings who are originally from the town but now live in New York City. They were a few years older than me. The sister had moved to the United States for school, and was working on a master\u2019s degree. When I met the siblings, they were visiting their mother and grandmother, and said that they would be in Mustang for two months before returning to the USA. They missed this place, they told me, and needed to get a break from the hectic lifestyle of the city. I began to tell them about my project, explaining that the idea started because I was curious about the relationship with people and place. The sister nodded and said \u201cthe people here, they really respect the land, you know? Not like in New York.\u201d It is clear that, in Kagbeni, much more attention is given to what comes from the land, and how people interact with the land on a daily basis. In New York City, the sister argued, this connection, this respect, was lost. This sentiment was communicated to me by other people I met, like Kunga, who took such pride in the fresh food of Kagbeni, and it made the cultural use of the land another site of differentiation for the people who spoke about Mustang. Just as with the political and geographic boundaries placed on Upper Mustang, statements like the sister\u2019s once again distance Mustang from other places, this time focusing on the people rather than the land. This is done by both outsiders as well as locals. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAnother friend \u2013 Mama \u2013 told me a similar story about another Loba who lived in New York for many years before returning to Kagbeni: \u201che just gave up everything and moved back here to Kagbeni… he just loved this place, man. The smell of the cows.\u201d As someone who lives in Kathmandu but returns to his home in Tiri (across the river from Kagbeni) a few times a year, Mama showed a sense of disbelief at the man in his story. He too had moved away, made a new life and started a family in the city. One of his brothers was living in New York, studying to be a photographer. And yet, they were both pulled back to Kagbeni and Tiri, just like the three siblings earlier. Mama may have laughed about the smells of the livestock, but even he admitted that he would like to visit more than he does. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the monastery, the monks provide another example of a lasting commitment to the Kagbeni community. The khenpo<\/em>, who also happens to be Mama\u2019s brother, was originally from Tiri and came back to head the monastery after receiving a higher level of monastic education in India. In addition, one of the younger monks, Dorje, was saw his role at the monastery as a service to his community. In his 20s, Dorje left Tiri for a few years to go to school and live in Kathmandu, but has since returned in order to give back to Kagbeni as the middle son of his family. Dorje explained that it is common for people from the surrounding towns to serve at the monastery for a few years, without the expectation that they would remain a monk. In his case, Dorje spent one year at the monastery before returning to Kathmandu for a year, and is now finishing his time at Kag Chode in a two-year segment. He prefers living in Kathmandu, like many other men around his age that I talked to, but also recognizes that it is nice to be out of the city and back where his family is from. When asked if he would continue to be a monk when his three years of service were over, Dorje admitted that he had not yet decided. <\/p>\n\n\n\nOne of my older\nstudents showed this commitment in a different way. In order to be ordained at\na higher level, monks in the Sakya sect must receive further schooling in\nIndia. Of the 64 students at Kag Chode, it is likely that only a few will\nfollow this path. As they get older, students often decide to disrobe and\nreenter lay society. Since the school provides both a monastic and secular\neducation, many families send their children there for the free education and\nhousing, knowing that their children will be able to succeed with the education\nwhether or not they remain as monks. When I talked to one student about his\nplans following his graduation, he told me that he wants to be ordained at a\nhigher level, which means going to India. After receiving this further\neducation, his goal is to return to Mustang and help run the gompa<\/em> and teach younger students. <\/p>\n\n\n\nPeople\nleave Mustang for school, better jobs, seasonal work, or other opportunities.\nThey come back for different seasonal work, festivals, or to visit family. Because\nthe winters are harsh in Mustang, many people leave for the season. While a few\nolder community members and children stay behind to keep the town running in\nthe coldest months, the majority of people find work or live elsewhere. The\nentire monastic school, for instance, picks up and moves to Pokhara for a few\nmonths. This seasonal migration is by no means a new phenomenon, and shows that\neven when Mustang was restricted to foreigners, people have always come and\ngone with some frequency. Their claim of being Loba, however, remains with\nthem. People living in Kathmandu identify where they are from or what their\nethnic background is when they talk about their life in the city, and they also\nlabel others in this way. For example, one trekking guide mentioned that he has\n\u201ca lot of Manangi friends.\u201d Manang is the region to the east of Mustang, and\neven if his friends live predominantly in Kathmandu, the guide still identifies\nthem as being from Manang. In the same way, people often refer to a place as\n\u201cmy village,\u201d even when they have lived in Kathmandu for most of their lives.\nAlong the same lines, people who live in Kathmandu almost never say that they\nare form Kathmandu. <\/p>\n\n\n\nClaiming\nthe identity of the village or region your family is from is common throughout\nNepal, and is in many ways related to the caste system and Hinduization in the\nPanchayat era. This is also in part due to the wide diversity of ethnic groups\nand languages in Nepal, and the original formation of the country in the 18th<\/sup>\ncentury as a unified kingdom made up of many smaller, previously distinct\ngroups. While people in Mustang are definitively Nepali, they have a deep\nconnection to their homeland. As with the gompa<\/em>\ndonor now living in Hong Kong, many people want to maintain a connection to the\nregion and support it when they can. In Mustang\nBhot in Fragments<\/em>, Manjushree Thapa tells the story of one man who lived in\nKathmandu many years before returning to Mustang, hoping to improve the area after\ngrowing accustomed to the ways of the city. When asked why he wanted to come\nback and work on developing the area, he responded \u201cthis is home. If we don\u2019t\nimprove it, who will?\u201d (Thapa 2008: 50). This statement not only shows the deep\nconnection that Loba have to their communities, it also implies that other\npeople cannot be counted on to improve life there. After a history of being let\ndown by the Nepali government and other development projects, it makes sense\nthat the community would take it into their own hands to build the road north\nto Tibet, to spur the possibility of more opportunities.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nTeam Tashi Delek<\/em><\/h3>\n\n\n\nUp until this point, there have been occasional points of friction between Nepali and Tibetan and Loba identities. In ethnicity, religion, culture, and language, people of Mustang appear to be closer to Tibet than Nepal. This perception is held by most Nepali citizens, both from Mustang and from elsewhere. At the same time, these borderland communities are still Nepali, learning the official language and singing the national anthem each day in school. One day in class at Kag Chode, I was working with the students to practice grouping words that use the same vowel sounds. I created teams, splitting the class in half, and asked what they wanted their team names to be. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Tashi Delek<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Namaste<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe students broke into laughter, pleased with the names they had chosen. <\/p>\n\n\n\nI bring up this moment with the students (this class was ages 10 through 12) because it points to a divide in how Loba people perceive themselves in relation to Nepal. Tashi<\/em> delek<\/em> and namaste<\/em> are Tibetan and Nepali words respectively, and are both used as greetings. The local language in Mustang is Loke, which is closely related to Tibetan. As a result, tashi delek<\/em> is almost always what you hear being tossed around as you walk through the streets. Namaste <\/em>is reserved for foreigners and other Nepalis. While children are taught both Nepali and English in school (in addition to Tibetan language at monastic schools), people primarily still speak in Loke in Kagbeni, rarely switching into Nepali or English unless there is another person around who speaks one of those languages. English, Nepali, and Tibetan music mingle in the streets of Kagbeni, as people play music to accompany the harvest, household chores, or evening downtime. Each language carries a different cadence, mediating spoken interactions between locals and others passing through.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis divide is in part due to the Nepali government\u2019s history of aid (or lack of it) in Mustang, but is also deeply rooted in the cultural identity of Mustang. The heart of this issue comes from the distance that is felt between what it means to be Nepali and what it means to be Tibetan, and finding a place somewhere in between. While giving myself and a Nepali business group from Kathmandu a tour of Kagbeni, Mama explained <\/p>\n\n\n\nUpper Mustang, Lower Mustang, we want to be called Tibetan, but we are not Tibetan. Tibetans are migratory people you know? But because I was born here I can say that I\u2019m Tibetan. Historically we wandered around place to place with the yaks looking for grass.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis points to the\ndivide between how Loba people see themselves and how other Tibetan and Nepali\ngroups see them. My friend explained that even though he is not \u2018Tibetan,\u2019 he\nstill identifies as being Tibetan, and does so proudly. Similar sentiments were\nexpressed to me by other people in Kagbeni. Throughout Kagbeni, and Upper\nMustang to the north, people align themselves more closely with Tibetan culture\nthan Nepali, while still maintaining their Nepali identity as well. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe royal family of Mustang provides a good example of the complicated relationship between Nepali and Tibetan identities. The family is said to be descended from Tibetan kings, yet today holds the surname Bista. This once again traces to the Rana regime and the following Panchayat era, in which \u201cof necessity, the [Loba] colonized themselves\u201d (Thapa 2008: 124). The name Bista comes from high-caste Hindu families originally, and was thus appropriated in order to increase the family\u2019s authority and recognition in the eyes of the Nepali government (Thapa 2008). Other Loba took on surnames in a similar way, often appropriating names of ethnic groups to the south of Mustang. While the Bistas are no longer recognized by the Nepali government today, they still hold social power in the region. One trekking guide who was originally from Lo Manthang told me that part of the reason the local people still respect and listen to the royal family is because \u201cit is past karma,\u201d so the people of Mustang just know to follow them. Whatever the reason, it became clear to me that the Loba put more trust and respect in the royal family of Mustang than the Nepali government.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBeyond language, there are other clear physical markers which point to the Loba being more in line with Tibetan culture. The clothing, buildings, and even the landscape of Upper Mustang all mirror that which is found in Tibet. While my friends from other regions of Nepal frequently spoke of wanting to travel to other regions of the country, the Loba I know in Kagbeni only ever spoke of wishing to visit Tibet. This is not purely for religious reasons, though going to pilgrimage sites such as Manasarovar lake certainly contributes to this desire. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThis closeness to Tibetan culture was further emphasized after 1959, when Mustang became a one of many settlement areas for Tibetan refugees \u201cdue to its close proximity to Tibetan territory, strong kinship and monastic relations with Tibetan populations and social\u2013physical landscape congruent to the Tibetan Plateau\u201d (Murton 2017: 538). Here, it is clear that the association between Mustang and Tibet goes past simply proximity or culture. In popular discourse, however, Mustang is still essentialized as being as close as you can get to \u201cauthentic\u201d Tibetan culture as it was before 1959. This perception is damaging for many reasons, and will be explored more in relation to tourism.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nReshaping Mustang<\/h3>\n\n\n\nMustang, Nepal has been\nshaped both internally and externally by religion and its relationship to\npolitics and culture. Buddhist and Bon structures have physically reshaped the\nlandscape, linking to mythology that maps onto it. These recreations of the\nland go back hundreds of years, to when Guru Rinpoche first came through the\nKali Gandaki in the 8th<\/sup> century. Bon influences on the land go back\neven further. The mingling of Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism has taken on ulterior\nmotives in the last century, however. Due to the governmental policies and lack\nof infrastructure in the region, Loba were pushed to either assimilate and\nbecome more recognizably \u201cNepali\u201d (meaning more Hindu), or leave for better\nopportunities elsewhere. The relationship with Tibet to the north was largely\nhalted as well, with only a trade fair in the summer remaining.<\/p>\n\n\n\nTurning\ntowards the tourism industry, the region is frequently characterized as a\nstronghold of Tibetan culture and religion, preserved by the restriction of the\nregion. Government policies, tourism agencies, and even museums point to\nMustang as being a special place in Nepal because of the presence of Tibetan\nBuddhism and Bon in its valleys. Kagbeni, on the border between Upper and Lower\nMustang, shows us that this popular essentialization of Loba people as purely\nreligious in many ways misinterprets the role of religion in daily life. Yes,\nsignals of Buddhism and Bon and Hinduism abound in the small town, and some\npeople do sit outside in the sun with prayer wheels spinning in their hands,\nbut this misses the complexity of the Kagbeni reality. Lives in Kagbeni are complicated and reshaped\nconstantly by the government, religions, and tourists intersecting within its\nspace. In the following chapter, I turn to look more closely at the impacts of\ntourism in and scholarship about Kagbeni and Upper Mustang.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTourism: Exceptionalism, Pilgrimage, and Romance<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Culture, Landscapes, and Identity Religious LandscapesThe Smell of the CowsTeam Tashi DelekReshaping Mustang Towards the end of my time in Kagbeni, I walked into the lounge area of the hotel I was living at to find Aama laying on one of the benches, reading quietly aloud to herself. Aama is the matriarch of the hotel, … Continue reading Religion<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3090,"featured_media":145,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-8","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3090"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8"}],"version-history":[{"count":18,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":368,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions\/368"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/145"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
An emphasis on\nphysical, visual, markings on the landscape negates the way the landscape of\nMustang has been shaped for centuries by various mythologies and sonic\nvibrations that claim space. In the Tibetan\nBuddhist ontology, \u201cTibetan architecture, landscape, and religious\nbeliefs are woven together, forming a sacred realm. The theme of the mandala is\npresent everywhere one goes; as a spiritual vehicle and a general model\u201d\n(Xu 2010: 182). The ch\u00f6rten<\/em> is one\nstructure which weaves together these themes into the form of a mandala. As Xu\nexplains, the physical structure of a ch\u00f6rten<\/em>\nis a three-dimensional representation of a mandala, a model of the universe.\nThese structures are sprinkled across the landscape of Mustang, and throughout\nKagbeni. Varying in size and style, they are reminders of the nature of the\nuniverse, and \u201cof the spiritual realm in which Mustang is embedded\u201d (Bubriski\net al. 2018: 19). Similarly, the music used in pujas creates a mandala through\nthe way sound is created (Ellingson 1979).<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\nFigure 27: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> with paintings inside in the middle of a Kagbeni street <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\n Figure 28: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> and communal washing area in a Kagbeni street <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n Figure 29: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> at the end of a prayer wall on the peninsula between the two rivers <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nBecause of this\nemphasis on the land as being a home to deities and itself a mandala, Tibetan\nBuddhist teachings often emphasize the proper use of land in order to prevent\npollution, especially of water resources. For example, by describing how a\ntoilet should be built to promote a healthy environment, or promoting the\nplanting of trees to prevent deforestation (Vigoda 1989: 26). While water is\ngenerally sacred, or purifying, in the Tibetan landscape it takes on the\nadditional context of being scarce, and thus even more important for sustaining\nlife. <\/p>\n\n\n\nOne practice\nfrequently associated with Mustang is Sky Burial. This death ritual is often\ndescribed in documentaries and tourism materials as something that keeps\nMustang linked to the past. Vigoda explains that this is yet another example of\na religious practice reacting to the conditions of the environment. She says:<\/p>\n\n\n\n[Sky Burial] is carried out at the tops of hills and mountains, where bodies are chopped up and fed to the birds\u2026 [it] is indicative of how the lack of natural resources, and the Buddhist idea of the interdependence of all things, are manifested in a religious custom (Vigoda 1989: 29). <\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nIn recent years, however, the practice has\ndied out almost completely. There are a few reasons for this. First, Himalayan\nVultures are now an endangered species. These giant birds who once played a\nlarge role in disposing of corpses were impacted by the use of DDT in India,\nand have thus decreased in population considerably. I noticed a distinct lack\nof vultures on my second visit to Mustang in 2018, whereas my group had\ngleefully spotted a few of the birds two years before. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe second reason for\nthe deemphasis on Sky Burials is linked to global trends of modernization.\nTraditional practices, especially around death, are often looked down on or\nseen as backward by more powerful, \u2018modern\u2019 or \u2018developed\u2019 countries. Even\nthough Mustang is remote and difficult to navigate, it has been linked to trade\nnetworks for hundreds of years. Many of the wealthier families in Mustang have\nhouses in Kathmandu as well, and often travel outside the region. Seasonal jobs\nbring people to India and Tibet for trade or construction work, and children\nare often sent to school in Pokhara or Kathmandu. As a result, there are many\nways that the communities of Mustang are shaped by global trends, even without\ntaking the impact of tourism into consideration. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the same time, the\nimagination of Mustang as a stronghold of Tibetan culture is one of the main\ndraws for tourism in the region, and there are many groups which are trying to\npreserve the culture of the region. The perception that Mustang\u2019s culture and\nlanguage is unique and under attack by globalization and modernization is\nprevalent among NGOs internal and external to Nepal. While there are some\ngroups like the American Himalayan Foundation that strive towards cultural\npreservation, Sky Burials are not the focus of preservation initiatives. On the\nother hand, the few Sky Burials that do still happen today have become a draw\nfor tourists who want to see a different culture in action; preservation for\nthe sake of tourism has a different sort of friction. <\/p>\n\n\n\nWhile the Buddha\u2019s\nteachings make an impact on practitioners\u2019 relationship to the land, so does\nthe presence of the other deities in the Tibetan Buddhist and Bon cosmologies.\nThese deities inhabit the sky, atmosphere, and earth, and can be both\nbenevolent and wrathful (25). The domains of these deities recognized in\nTibetan Buddhism and Bon map onto the physical landscape of Mustang, and are\nmirrored by the structures built. In Mustang, the emphasis is placed most\nheavily on the mythology of Guru Padmasambhava, or Guru Rinpoche. In fact, the\nfigure of Guru Rinpoche is more important than that of the Buddha, and it is\nhis likeness that sits at the altar of some monasteries. <\/p>\n\n\n\nMuktinath, the\npilgrimage site to the east of Kagbeni, is one site where Guru Padmasambhava is\nsaid to have stopped, thus making it an important Buddhist site in addition to its\nimportance for Hindu pilgrims. A few days\u2019 walk north, outside of Gami village,\nthe longest mani<\/em> wall in Nepal sprawls\nacross a plateau, marking the site of a battle between Guru Padmasambhava and a\ndemoness. The canyon walls are blue and red with her blood, and a ch\u00f6rten<\/em> built in the 8th<\/sup>\ncentury safeguards her heart, cut out by Guru Padmasambhava. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Figure 30: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> north of Gami, where the demoness\u2019 heart is kept <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nIn addition to shaping the physical environment with ch\u00f6rtens<\/em>, monasteries, sound, and prayer flags, much of Tibetan Buddhism focuses on turning inwards. In the harsh landscape of high-altitude desert, methods of self-realization are emphasized in order to have a chance of escaping samsara<\/em>, the cycle of rebirth, in a future life (Gualtieri 1983: 170-1). As discussed above, this often involves sensory contact with mantras, whether it be chanting them or carving or painting them on rock walls. Peter Crossley-Holland explains another aspect of the mantra\u2019s significance. According to him, \u201ca mantra is a symbol for the divine being it is said to embody, but it is also believed to be more than that: it is believed to be an actual emanation from that being, and so an aspect of it\u201d (Crossley-Holland 1976: 50). Following this logic, sensory interaction with a mantra is interaction with the divine. Similarly, the mantras written all over the landscape help to cloak it in the presence of the divine.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis ability of the mantra to reshape the landscape is exemplified further in the prayer flags hung from high surfaces all across Tibetan Buddhist communities. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Prayer flags in the wind<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nFigure 31: Prayer flags flapping in the wind <\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\nMy friend Sherab explained to me that the Buddhist prayer flags are hung in the windiest places, because every time they flap they send the mantra written on them out into the world. As discussed earlier, mantras have the ability to reshape people and places through sensory contact. Imagine a line of flags, whipping back and forth. With each movement, waves of vibrations are carried across the landscape, spreading the mantra written on their threads as far as the wind will carry it. These waves of vibrations create sounds, too [sound clip of flags in the wind]. In his study of voice, place, and identity in Kenya, Andrew Eisenberg writes about the territoriality of sound, the ways that sounds can create social space based on how far they travel and who interacts with them. He argues that \u201csonic practices territorialize by virtue of combining physical vibration with bodily sensation and culturally conditioned meanings\u201d (2015: 199). As the prayer flags send out their vibrations in the wind, they shape the landscape around them into a sacred space, from which liberation becomes more accessible. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe\nphysical vibrations emanating from flags reminds us how religious icons and\ntexts have the ability to transform \u201cthe ordinary, coarse world into an\nextraordinary realm of spiritual wisdom and compassion\u201d (Farkas 2009: 30). From the way mandalas are created in buildings\nto represent the universe, to the dying practice of Sky Burials, to the sounds\nof prayer flags in the wind, we see how \u201cterritorial and spatial\ndimensions are intrinsically linked to the practice of\nreligion\u201d (Terrone 2014: 463).This\nis not religion that adheres primarily to specific doctrines, but is rather a\nform of religion incorporated into daily life through smaller practices and\nreflections of the landscape.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nThe Smell of the Cows<\/h3>\n\n\n\n Figure 31: Cows in the street in Kagbeni <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Cows in the morning<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nThroughout\nmy time in Kagbeni, I heard over and over about people who had left the town and\ncame back years later, or who now live elsewhere and visit as often as\npossible. I was surprised by the number of visitors I met in the month I was living\nthere, and how positively they reminisced about returning home. When I asked\npeople if they would want to return and live in Kagbeni instead of only\nvisiting, they said things like \u201cthat would be nice\u201d or \u201coh yes, I wish,\u201d but\nin a way that told me they never would. I became curious about why many people return\nto visit, but so few come back for good.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis question could be answered in part by looking at the factors limiting opportunities in Mustang, which is one of the main reasons people leave. Not surprisingly, the restriction of the region from the 1960s onwards played a large role in Mustang\u2019s ability to grow and change over time. Manjushree Thapa explains this dynamic:<\/p>\n\n\n\nRestriction had not kept Upper Mustang beyond the reach of the modern world. Rather, it had forced people out. No new sources of income had entered the area, nor had traditional occupations found means to grow. The history-book pattern \u2014 of farming in the spring, animal husbandry in the summer, and trading in the winter \u2014 had remained the same for centuries; it had stagnated (Thapa 2008: 80).<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis restriction was\naccentuated by Chinese policies to the North as well. Following 1959 and the\ninvasion of Tibet, \u201cChinese authorities had clamped down on the practice of\ngrazing of Nepali animals on Tibetan grassland\u201d (Thapa 2008: 51). This means\nthat there was less dung that could be used for fuel, less animal meat, and\nless revenue. Migratory grazing was no longer an option in the way it once was.\nThis policy of restriction is promoted as something that protects the culture\nand keeps the area as a living museum, but has evidently harmed Mustang greatly\nafter decades of not providing support to the region. Without opportunities beyond\nagriculture and tourism, people who have the means to leave do, and only some return.<\/p>\n\n\n\nIt\nquickly became clear to me upon arriving in Mustang that the locals are heavily\nimpacted by the land. We have already seen this to some extent in the way that\nbuildings are made, and the relationships between religion and landscape. This\narea north of the Himalayas is classified as high-altitude desert, with\nlow-lying trees sparsely spread along the gorge. The endangered blue sheep roam\nthe hillsides above 3500 meters, and Himalayan vultures occasionally fly\noverhead. Wind and water have shaped the Kali Gandaki gorge (which was once on\nthe bottom of the ocean floor), but they have also shaped the people who live\nwithin its walls. <\/p>\n\n\n\nTowards the end of my stay in Kagbeni, I had the opportunity to meet three siblings who are originally from the town but now live in New York City. They were a few years older than me. The sister had moved to the United States for school, and was working on a master\u2019s degree. When I met the siblings, they were visiting their mother and grandmother, and said that they would be in Mustang for two months before returning to the USA. They missed this place, they told me, and needed to get a break from the hectic lifestyle of the city. I began to tell them about my project, explaining that the idea started because I was curious about the relationship with people and place. The sister nodded and said \u201cthe people here, they really respect the land, you know? Not like in New York.\u201d It is clear that, in Kagbeni, much more attention is given to what comes from the land, and how people interact with the land on a daily basis. In New York City, the sister argued, this connection, this respect, was lost. This sentiment was communicated to me by other people I met, like Kunga, who took such pride in the fresh food of Kagbeni, and it made the cultural use of the land another site of differentiation for the people who spoke about Mustang. Just as with the political and geographic boundaries placed on Upper Mustang, statements like the sister\u2019s once again distance Mustang from other places, this time focusing on the people rather than the land. This is done by both outsiders as well as locals. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAnother friend \u2013 Mama \u2013 told me a similar story about another Loba who lived in New York for many years before returning to Kagbeni: \u201che just gave up everything and moved back here to Kagbeni… he just loved this place, man. The smell of the cows.\u201d As someone who lives in Kathmandu but returns to his home in Tiri (across the river from Kagbeni) a few times a year, Mama showed a sense of disbelief at the man in his story. He too had moved away, made a new life and started a family in the city. One of his brothers was living in New York, studying to be a photographer. And yet, they were both pulled back to Kagbeni and Tiri, just like the three siblings earlier. Mama may have laughed about the smells of the livestock, but even he admitted that he would like to visit more than he does. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the monastery, the monks provide another example of a lasting commitment to the Kagbeni community. The khenpo<\/em>, who also happens to be Mama\u2019s brother, was originally from Tiri and came back to head the monastery after receiving a higher level of monastic education in India. In addition, one of the younger monks, Dorje, was saw his role at the monastery as a service to his community. In his 20s, Dorje left Tiri for a few years to go to school and live in Kathmandu, but has since returned in order to give back to Kagbeni as the middle son of his family. Dorje explained that it is common for people from the surrounding towns to serve at the monastery for a few years, without the expectation that they would remain a monk. In his case, Dorje spent one year at the monastery before returning to Kathmandu for a year, and is now finishing his time at Kag Chode in a two-year segment. He prefers living in Kathmandu, like many other men around his age that I talked to, but also recognizes that it is nice to be out of the city and back where his family is from. When asked if he would continue to be a monk when his three years of service were over, Dorje admitted that he had not yet decided. <\/p>\n\n\n\nOne of my older\nstudents showed this commitment in a different way. In order to be ordained at\na higher level, monks in the Sakya sect must receive further schooling in\nIndia. Of the 64 students at Kag Chode, it is likely that only a few will\nfollow this path. As they get older, students often decide to disrobe and\nreenter lay society. Since the school provides both a monastic and secular\neducation, many families send their children there for the free education and\nhousing, knowing that their children will be able to succeed with the education\nwhether or not they remain as monks. When I talked to one student about his\nplans following his graduation, he told me that he wants to be ordained at a\nhigher level, which means going to India. After receiving this further\neducation, his goal is to return to Mustang and help run the gompa<\/em> and teach younger students. <\/p>\n\n\n\nPeople\nleave Mustang for school, better jobs, seasonal work, or other opportunities.\nThey come back for different seasonal work, festivals, or to visit family. Because\nthe winters are harsh in Mustang, many people leave for the season. While a few\nolder community members and children stay behind to keep the town running in\nthe coldest months, the majority of people find work or live elsewhere. The\nentire monastic school, for instance, picks up and moves to Pokhara for a few\nmonths. This seasonal migration is by no means a new phenomenon, and shows that\neven when Mustang was restricted to foreigners, people have always come and\ngone with some frequency. Their claim of being Loba, however, remains with\nthem. People living in Kathmandu identify where they are from or what their\nethnic background is when they talk about their life in the city, and they also\nlabel others in this way. For example, one trekking guide mentioned that he has\n\u201ca lot of Manangi friends.\u201d Manang is the region to the east of Mustang, and\neven if his friends live predominantly in Kathmandu, the guide still identifies\nthem as being from Manang. In the same way, people often refer to a place as\n\u201cmy village,\u201d even when they have lived in Kathmandu for most of their lives.\nAlong the same lines, people who live in Kathmandu almost never say that they\nare form Kathmandu. <\/p>\n\n\n\nClaiming\nthe identity of the village or region your family is from is common throughout\nNepal, and is in many ways related to the caste system and Hinduization in the\nPanchayat era. This is also in part due to the wide diversity of ethnic groups\nand languages in Nepal, and the original formation of the country in the 18th<\/sup>\ncentury as a unified kingdom made up of many smaller, previously distinct\ngroups. While people in Mustang are definitively Nepali, they have a deep\nconnection to their homeland. As with the gompa<\/em>\ndonor now living in Hong Kong, many people want to maintain a connection to the\nregion and support it when they can. In Mustang\nBhot in Fragments<\/em>, Manjushree Thapa tells the story of one man who lived in\nKathmandu many years before returning to Mustang, hoping to improve the area after\ngrowing accustomed to the ways of the city. When asked why he wanted to come\nback and work on developing the area, he responded \u201cthis is home. If we don\u2019t\nimprove it, who will?\u201d (Thapa 2008: 50). This statement not only shows the deep\nconnection that Loba have to their communities, it also implies that other\npeople cannot be counted on to improve life there. After a history of being let\ndown by the Nepali government and other development projects, it makes sense\nthat the community would take it into their own hands to build the road north\nto Tibet, to spur the possibility of more opportunities.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nTeam Tashi Delek<\/em><\/h3>\n\n\n\nUp until this point, there have been occasional points of friction between Nepali and Tibetan and Loba identities. In ethnicity, religion, culture, and language, people of Mustang appear to be closer to Tibet than Nepal. This perception is held by most Nepali citizens, both from Mustang and from elsewhere. At the same time, these borderland communities are still Nepali, learning the official language and singing the national anthem each day in school. One day in class at Kag Chode, I was working with the students to practice grouping words that use the same vowel sounds. I created teams, splitting the class in half, and asked what they wanted their team names to be. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Tashi Delek<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Namaste<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe students broke into laughter, pleased with the names they had chosen. <\/p>\n\n\n\nI bring up this moment with the students (this class was ages 10 through 12) because it points to a divide in how Loba people perceive themselves in relation to Nepal. Tashi<\/em> delek<\/em> and namaste<\/em> are Tibetan and Nepali words respectively, and are both used as greetings. The local language in Mustang is Loke, which is closely related to Tibetan. As a result, tashi delek<\/em> is almost always what you hear being tossed around as you walk through the streets. Namaste <\/em>is reserved for foreigners and other Nepalis. While children are taught both Nepali and English in school (in addition to Tibetan language at monastic schools), people primarily still speak in Loke in Kagbeni, rarely switching into Nepali or English unless there is another person around who speaks one of those languages. English, Nepali, and Tibetan music mingle in the streets of Kagbeni, as people play music to accompany the harvest, household chores, or evening downtime. Each language carries a different cadence, mediating spoken interactions between locals and others passing through.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis divide is in part due to the Nepali government\u2019s history of aid (or lack of it) in Mustang, but is also deeply rooted in the cultural identity of Mustang. The heart of this issue comes from the distance that is felt between what it means to be Nepali and what it means to be Tibetan, and finding a place somewhere in between. While giving myself and a Nepali business group from Kathmandu a tour of Kagbeni, Mama explained <\/p>\n\n\n\nUpper Mustang, Lower Mustang, we want to be called Tibetan, but we are not Tibetan. Tibetans are migratory people you know? But because I was born here I can say that I\u2019m Tibetan. Historically we wandered around place to place with the yaks looking for grass.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis points to the\ndivide between how Loba people see themselves and how other Tibetan and Nepali\ngroups see them. My friend explained that even though he is not \u2018Tibetan,\u2019 he\nstill identifies as being Tibetan, and does so proudly. Similar sentiments were\nexpressed to me by other people in Kagbeni. Throughout Kagbeni, and Upper\nMustang to the north, people align themselves more closely with Tibetan culture\nthan Nepali, while still maintaining their Nepali identity as well. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe royal family of Mustang provides a good example of the complicated relationship between Nepali and Tibetan identities. The family is said to be descended from Tibetan kings, yet today holds the surname Bista. This once again traces to the Rana regime and the following Panchayat era, in which \u201cof necessity, the [Loba] colonized themselves\u201d (Thapa 2008: 124). The name Bista comes from high-caste Hindu families originally, and was thus appropriated in order to increase the family\u2019s authority and recognition in the eyes of the Nepali government (Thapa 2008). Other Loba took on surnames in a similar way, often appropriating names of ethnic groups to the south of Mustang. While the Bistas are no longer recognized by the Nepali government today, they still hold social power in the region. One trekking guide who was originally from Lo Manthang told me that part of the reason the local people still respect and listen to the royal family is because \u201cit is past karma,\u201d so the people of Mustang just know to follow them. Whatever the reason, it became clear to me that the Loba put more trust and respect in the royal family of Mustang than the Nepali government.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBeyond language, there are other clear physical markers which point to the Loba being more in line with Tibetan culture. The clothing, buildings, and even the landscape of Upper Mustang all mirror that which is found in Tibet. While my friends from other regions of Nepal frequently spoke of wanting to travel to other regions of the country, the Loba I know in Kagbeni only ever spoke of wishing to visit Tibet. This is not purely for religious reasons, though going to pilgrimage sites such as Manasarovar lake certainly contributes to this desire. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThis closeness to Tibetan culture was further emphasized after 1959, when Mustang became a one of many settlement areas for Tibetan refugees \u201cdue to its close proximity to Tibetan territory, strong kinship and monastic relations with Tibetan populations and social\u2013physical landscape congruent to the Tibetan Plateau\u201d (Murton 2017: 538). Here, it is clear that the association between Mustang and Tibet goes past simply proximity or culture. In popular discourse, however, Mustang is still essentialized as being as close as you can get to \u201cauthentic\u201d Tibetan culture as it was before 1959. This perception is damaging for many reasons, and will be explored more in relation to tourism.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nReshaping Mustang<\/h3>\n\n\n\nMustang, Nepal has been\nshaped both internally and externally by religion and its relationship to\npolitics and culture. Buddhist and Bon structures have physically reshaped the\nlandscape, linking to mythology that maps onto it. These recreations of the\nland go back hundreds of years, to when Guru Rinpoche first came through the\nKali Gandaki in the 8th<\/sup> century. Bon influences on the land go back\neven further. The mingling of Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism has taken on ulterior\nmotives in the last century, however. Due to the governmental policies and lack\nof infrastructure in the region, Loba were pushed to either assimilate and\nbecome more recognizably \u201cNepali\u201d (meaning more Hindu), or leave for better\nopportunities elsewhere. The relationship with Tibet to the north was largely\nhalted as well, with only a trade fair in the summer remaining.<\/p>\n\n\n\nTurning\ntowards the tourism industry, the region is frequently characterized as a\nstronghold of Tibetan culture and religion, preserved by the restriction of the\nregion. Government policies, tourism agencies, and even museums point to\nMustang as being a special place in Nepal because of the presence of Tibetan\nBuddhism and Bon in its valleys. Kagbeni, on the border between Upper and Lower\nMustang, shows us that this popular essentialization of Loba people as purely\nreligious in many ways misinterprets the role of religion in daily life. Yes,\nsignals of Buddhism and Bon and Hinduism abound in the small town, and some\npeople do sit outside in the sun with prayer wheels spinning in their hands,\nbut this misses the complexity of the Kagbeni reality. Lives in Kagbeni are complicated and reshaped\nconstantly by the government, religions, and tourists intersecting within its\nspace. In the following chapter, I turn to look more closely at the impacts of\ntourism in and scholarship about Kagbeni and Upper Mustang.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTourism: Exceptionalism, Pilgrimage, and Romance<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Culture, Landscapes, and Identity Religious LandscapesThe Smell of the CowsTeam Tashi DelekReshaping Mustang Towards the end of my time in Kagbeni, I walked into the lounge area of the hotel I was living at to find Aama laying on one of the benches, reading quietly aloud to herself. Aama is the matriarch of the hotel, … Continue reading Religion<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3090,"featured_media":145,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-8","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3090"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8"}],"version-history":[{"count":18,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":368,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions\/368"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/145"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
Because of this\nemphasis on the land as being a home to deities and itself a mandala, Tibetan\nBuddhist teachings often emphasize the proper use of land in order to prevent\npollution, especially of water resources. For example, by describing how a\ntoilet should be built to promote a healthy environment, or promoting the\nplanting of trees to prevent deforestation (Vigoda 1989: 26). While water is\ngenerally sacred, or purifying, in the Tibetan landscape it takes on the\nadditional context of being scarce, and thus even more important for sustaining\nlife. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
One practice\nfrequently associated with Mustang is Sky Burial. This death ritual is often\ndescribed in documentaries and tourism materials as something that keeps\nMustang linked to the past. Vigoda explains that this is yet another example of\na religious practice reacting to the conditions of the environment. She says:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
[Sky Burial] is carried out at the tops of hills and mountains, where bodies are chopped up and fed to the birds\u2026 [it] is indicative of how the lack of natural resources, and the Buddhist idea of the interdependence of all things, are manifested in a religious custom (Vigoda 1989: 29). <\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nIn recent years, however, the practice has\ndied out almost completely. There are a few reasons for this. First, Himalayan\nVultures are now an endangered species. These giant birds who once played a\nlarge role in disposing of corpses were impacted by the use of DDT in India,\nand have thus decreased in population considerably. I noticed a distinct lack\nof vultures on my second visit to Mustang in 2018, whereas my group had\ngleefully spotted a few of the birds two years before. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe second reason for\nthe deemphasis on Sky Burials is linked to global trends of modernization.\nTraditional practices, especially around death, are often looked down on or\nseen as backward by more powerful, \u2018modern\u2019 or \u2018developed\u2019 countries. Even\nthough Mustang is remote and difficult to navigate, it has been linked to trade\nnetworks for hundreds of years. Many of the wealthier families in Mustang have\nhouses in Kathmandu as well, and often travel outside the region. Seasonal jobs\nbring people to India and Tibet for trade or construction work, and children\nare often sent to school in Pokhara or Kathmandu. As a result, there are many\nways that the communities of Mustang are shaped by global trends, even without\ntaking the impact of tourism into consideration. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the same time, the\nimagination of Mustang as a stronghold of Tibetan culture is one of the main\ndraws for tourism in the region, and there are many groups which are trying to\npreserve the culture of the region. The perception that Mustang\u2019s culture and\nlanguage is unique and under attack by globalization and modernization is\nprevalent among NGOs internal and external to Nepal. While there are some\ngroups like the American Himalayan Foundation that strive towards cultural\npreservation, Sky Burials are not the focus of preservation initiatives. On the\nother hand, the few Sky Burials that do still happen today have become a draw\nfor tourists who want to see a different culture in action; preservation for\nthe sake of tourism has a different sort of friction. <\/p>\n\n\n\nWhile the Buddha\u2019s\nteachings make an impact on practitioners\u2019 relationship to the land, so does\nthe presence of the other deities in the Tibetan Buddhist and Bon cosmologies.\nThese deities inhabit the sky, atmosphere, and earth, and can be both\nbenevolent and wrathful (25). The domains of these deities recognized in\nTibetan Buddhism and Bon map onto the physical landscape of Mustang, and are\nmirrored by the structures built. In Mustang, the emphasis is placed most\nheavily on the mythology of Guru Padmasambhava, or Guru Rinpoche. In fact, the\nfigure of Guru Rinpoche is more important than that of the Buddha, and it is\nhis likeness that sits at the altar of some monasteries. <\/p>\n\n\n\nMuktinath, the\npilgrimage site to the east of Kagbeni, is one site where Guru Padmasambhava is\nsaid to have stopped, thus making it an important Buddhist site in addition to its\nimportance for Hindu pilgrims. A few days\u2019 walk north, outside of Gami village,\nthe longest mani<\/em> wall in Nepal sprawls\nacross a plateau, marking the site of a battle between Guru Padmasambhava and a\ndemoness. The canyon walls are blue and red with her blood, and a ch\u00f6rten<\/em> built in the 8th<\/sup>\ncentury safeguards her heart, cut out by Guru Padmasambhava. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Figure 30: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> north of Gami, where the demoness\u2019 heart is kept <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nIn addition to shaping the physical environment with ch\u00f6rtens<\/em>, monasteries, sound, and prayer flags, much of Tibetan Buddhism focuses on turning inwards. In the harsh landscape of high-altitude desert, methods of self-realization are emphasized in order to have a chance of escaping samsara<\/em>, the cycle of rebirth, in a future life (Gualtieri 1983: 170-1). As discussed above, this often involves sensory contact with mantras, whether it be chanting them or carving or painting them on rock walls. Peter Crossley-Holland explains another aspect of the mantra\u2019s significance. According to him, \u201ca mantra is a symbol for the divine being it is said to embody, but it is also believed to be more than that: it is believed to be an actual emanation from that being, and so an aspect of it\u201d (Crossley-Holland 1976: 50). Following this logic, sensory interaction with a mantra is interaction with the divine. Similarly, the mantras written all over the landscape help to cloak it in the presence of the divine.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis ability of the mantra to reshape the landscape is exemplified further in the prayer flags hung from high surfaces all across Tibetan Buddhist communities. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Prayer flags in the wind<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nFigure 31: Prayer flags flapping in the wind <\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\nMy friend Sherab explained to me that the Buddhist prayer flags are hung in the windiest places, because every time they flap they send the mantra written on them out into the world. As discussed earlier, mantras have the ability to reshape people and places through sensory contact. Imagine a line of flags, whipping back and forth. With each movement, waves of vibrations are carried across the landscape, spreading the mantra written on their threads as far as the wind will carry it. These waves of vibrations create sounds, too [sound clip of flags in the wind]. In his study of voice, place, and identity in Kenya, Andrew Eisenberg writes about the territoriality of sound, the ways that sounds can create social space based on how far they travel and who interacts with them. He argues that \u201csonic practices territorialize by virtue of combining physical vibration with bodily sensation and culturally conditioned meanings\u201d (2015: 199). As the prayer flags send out their vibrations in the wind, they shape the landscape around them into a sacred space, from which liberation becomes more accessible. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe\nphysical vibrations emanating from flags reminds us how religious icons and\ntexts have the ability to transform \u201cthe ordinary, coarse world into an\nextraordinary realm of spiritual wisdom and compassion\u201d (Farkas 2009: 30). From the way mandalas are created in buildings\nto represent the universe, to the dying practice of Sky Burials, to the sounds\nof prayer flags in the wind, we see how \u201cterritorial and spatial\ndimensions are intrinsically linked to the practice of\nreligion\u201d (Terrone 2014: 463).This\nis not religion that adheres primarily to specific doctrines, but is rather a\nform of religion incorporated into daily life through smaller practices and\nreflections of the landscape.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nThe Smell of the Cows<\/h3>\n\n\n\n Figure 31: Cows in the street in Kagbeni <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Cows in the morning<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nThroughout\nmy time in Kagbeni, I heard over and over about people who had left the town and\ncame back years later, or who now live elsewhere and visit as often as\npossible. I was surprised by the number of visitors I met in the month I was living\nthere, and how positively they reminisced about returning home. When I asked\npeople if they would want to return and live in Kagbeni instead of only\nvisiting, they said things like \u201cthat would be nice\u201d or \u201coh yes, I wish,\u201d but\nin a way that told me they never would. I became curious about why many people return\nto visit, but so few come back for good.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis question could be answered in part by looking at the factors limiting opportunities in Mustang, which is one of the main reasons people leave. Not surprisingly, the restriction of the region from the 1960s onwards played a large role in Mustang\u2019s ability to grow and change over time. Manjushree Thapa explains this dynamic:<\/p>\n\n\n\nRestriction had not kept Upper Mustang beyond the reach of the modern world. Rather, it had forced people out. No new sources of income had entered the area, nor had traditional occupations found means to grow. The history-book pattern \u2014 of farming in the spring, animal husbandry in the summer, and trading in the winter \u2014 had remained the same for centuries; it had stagnated (Thapa 2008: 80).<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis restriction was\naccentuated by Chinese policies to the North as well. Following 1959 and the\ninvasion of Tibet, \u201cChinese authorities had clamped down on the practice of\ngrazing of Nepali animals on Tibetan grassland\u201d (Thapa 2008: 51). This means\nthat there was less dung that could be used for fuel, less animal meat, and\nless revenue. Migratory grazing was no longer an option in the way it once was.\nThis policy of restriction is promoted as something that protects the culture\nand keeps the area as a living museum, but has evidently harmed Mustang greatly\nafter decades of not providing support to the region. Without opportunities beyond\nagriculture and tourism, people who have the means to leave do, and only some return.<\/p>\n\n\n\nIt\nquickly became clear to me upon arriving in Mustang that the locals are heavily\nimpacted by the land. We have already seen this to some extent in the way that\nbuildings are made, and the relationships between religion and landscape. This\narea north of the Himalayas is classified as high-altitude desert, with\nlow-lying trees sparsely spread along the gorge. The endangered blue sheep roam\nthe hillsides above 3500 meters, and Himalayan vultures occasionally fly\noverhead. Wind and water have shaped the Kali Gandaki gorge (which was once on\nthe bottom of the ocean floor), but they have also shaped the people who live\nwithin its walls. <\/p>\n\n\n\nTowards the end of my stay in Kagbeni, I had the opportunity to meet three siblings who are originally from the town but now live in New York City. They were a few years older than me. The sister had moved to the United States for school, and was working on a master\u2019s degree. When I met the siblings, they were visiting their mother and grandmother, and said that they would be in Mustang for two months before returning to the USA. They missed this place, they told me, and needed to get a break from the hectic lifestyle of the city. I began to tell them about my project, explaining that the idea started because I was curious about the relationship with people and place. The sister nodded and said \u201cthe people here, they really respect the land, you know? Not like in New York.\u201d It is clear that, in Kagbeni, much more attention is given to what comes from the land, and how people interact with the land on a daily basis. In New York City, the sister argued, this connection, this respect, was lost. This sentiment was communicated to me by other people I met, like Kunga, who took such pride in the fresh food of Kagbeni, and it made the cultural use of the land another site of differentiation for the people who spoke about Mustang. Just as with the political and geographic boundaries placed on Upper Mustang, statements like the sister\u2019s once again distance Mustang from other places, this time focusing on the people rather than the land. This is done by both outsiders as well as locals. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAnother friend \u2013 Mama \u2013 told me a similar story about another Loba who lived in New York for many years before returning to Kagbeni: \u201che just gave up everything and moved back here to Kagbeni… he just loved this place, man. The smell of the cows.\u201d As someone who lives in Kathmandu but returns to his home in Tiri (across the river from Kagbeni) a few times a year, Mama showed a sense of disbelief at the man in his story. He too had moved away, made a new life and started a family in the city. One of his brothers was living in New York, studying to be a photographer. And yet, they were both pulled back to Kagbeni and Tiri, just like the three siblings earlier. Mama may have laughed about the smells of the livestock, but even he admitted that he would like to visit more than he does. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the monastery, the monks provide another example of a lasting commitment to the Kagbeni community. The khenpo<\/em>, who also happens to be Mama\u2019s brother, was originally from Tiri and came back to head the monastery after receiving a higher level of monastic education in India. In addition, one of the younger monks, Dorje, was saw his role at the monastery as a service to his community. In his 20s, Dorje left Tiri for a few years to go to school and live in Kathmandu, but has since returned in order to give back to Kagbeni as the middle son of his family. Dorje explained that it is common for people from the surrounding towns to serve at the monastery for a few years, without the expectation that they would remain a monk. In his case, Dorje spent one year at the monastery before returning to Kathmandu for a year, and is now finishing his time at Kag Chode in a two-year segment. He prefers living in Kathmandu, like many other men around his age that I talked to, but also recognizes that it is nice to be out of the city and back where his family is from. When asked if he would continue to be a monk when his three years of service were over, Dorje admitted that he had not yet decided. <\/p>\n\n\n\nOne of my older\nstudents showed this commitment in a different way. In order to be ordained at\na higher level, monks in the Sakya sect must receive further schooling in\nIndia. Of the 64 students at Kag Chode, it is likely that only a few will\nfollow this path. As they get older, students often decide to disrobe and\nreenter lay society. Since the school provides both a monastic and secular\neducation, many families send their children there for the free education and\nhousing, knowing that their children will be able to succeed with the education\nwhether or not they remain as monks. When I talked to one student about his\nplans following his graduation, he told me that he wants to be ordained at a\nhigher level, which means going to India. After receiving this further\neducation, his goal is to return to Mustang and help run the gompa<\/em> and teach younger students. <\/p>\n\n\n\nPeople\nleave Mustang for school, better jobs, seasonal work, or other opportunities.\nThey come back for different seasonal work, festivals, or to visit family. Because\nthe winters are harsh in Mustang, many people leave for the season. While a few\nolder community members and children stay behind to keep the town running in\nthe coldest months, the majority of people find work or live elsewhere. The\nentire monastic school, for instance, picks up and moves to Pokhara for a few\nmonths. This seasonal migration is by no means a new phenomenon, and shows that\neven when Mustang was restricted to foreigners, people have always come and\ngone with some frequency. Their claim of being Loba, however, remains with\nthem. People living in Kathmandu identify where they are from or what their\nethnic background is when they talk about their life in the city, and they also\nlabel others in this way. For example, one trekking guide mentioned that he has\n\u201ca lot of Manangi friends.\u201d Manang is the region to the east of Mustang, and\neven if his friends live predominantly in Kathmandu, the guide still identifies\nthem as being from Manang. In the same way, people often refer to a place as\n\u201cmy village,\u201d even when they have lived in Kathmandu for most of their lives.\nAlong the same lines, people who live in Kathmandu almost never say that they\nare form Kathmandu. <\/p>\n\n\n\nClaiming\nthe identity of the village or region your family is from is common throughout\nNepal, and is in many ways related to the caste system and Hinduization in the\nPanchayat era. This is also in part due to the wide diversity of ethnic groups\nand languages in Nepal, and the original formation of the country in the 18th<\/sup>\ncentury as a unified kingdom made up of many smaller, previously distinct\ngroups. While people in Mustang are definitively Nepali, they have a deep\nconnection to their homeland. As with the gompa<\/em>\ndonor now living in Hong Kong, many people want to maintain a connection to the\nregion and support it when they can. In Mustang\nBhot in Fragments<\/em>, Manjushree Thapa tells the story of one man who lived in\nKathmandu many years before returning to Mustang, hoping to improve the area after\ngrowing accustomed to the ways of the city. When asked why he wanted to come\nback and work on developing the area, he responded \u201cthis is home. If we don\u2019t\nimprove it, who will?\u201d (Thapa 2008: 50). This statement not only shows the deep\nconnection that Loba have to their communities, it also implies that other\npeople cannot be counted on to improve life there. After a history of being let\ndown by the Nepali government and other development projects, it makes sense\nthat the community would take it into their own hands to build the road north\nto Tibet, to spur the possibility of more opportunities.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nTeam Tashi Delek<\/em><\/h3>\n\n\n\nUp until this point, there have been occasional points of friction between Nepali and Tibetan and Loba identities. In ethnicity, religion, culture, and language, people of Mustang appear to be closer to Tibet than Nepal. This perception is held by most Nepali citizens, both from Mustang and from elsewhere. At the same time, these borderland communities are still Nepali, learning the official language and singing the national anthem each day in school. One day in class at Kag Chode, I was working with the students to practice grouping words that use the same vowel sounds. I created teams, splitting the class in half, and asked what they wanted their team names to be. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Tashi Delek<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Namaste<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe students broke into laughter, pleased with the names they had chosen. <\/p>\n\n\n\nI bring up this moment with the students (this class was ages 10 through 12) because it points to a divide in how Loba people perceive themselves in relation to Nepal. Tashi<\/em> delek<\/em> and namaste<\/em> are Tibetan and Nepali words respectively, and are both used as greetings. The local language in Mustang is Loke, which is closely related to Tibetan. As a result, tashi delek<\/em> is almost always what you hear being tossed around as you walk through the streets. Namaste <\/em>is reserved for foreigners and other Nepalis. While children are taught both Nepali and English in school (in addition to Tibetan language at monastic schools), people primarily still speak in Loke in Kagbeni, rarely switching into Nepali or English unless there is another person around who speaks one of those languages. English, Nepali, and Tibetan music mingle in the streets of Kagbeni, as people play music to accompany the harvest, household chores, or evening downtime. Each language carries a different cadence, mediating spoken interactions between locals and others passing through.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis divide is in part due to the Nepali government\u2019s history of aid (or lack of it) in Mustang, but is also deeply rooted in the cultural identity of Mustang. The heart of this issue comes from the distance that is felt between what it means to be Nepali and what it means to be Tibetan, and finding a place somewhere in between. While giving myself and a Nepali business group from Kathmandu a tour of Kagbeni, Mama explained <\/p>\n\n\n\nUpper Mustang, Lower Mustang, we want to be called Tibetan, but we are not Tibetan. Tibetans are migratory people you know? But because I was born here I can say that I\u2019m Tibetan. Historically we wandered around place to place with the yaks looking for grass.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis points to the\ndivide between how Loba people see themselves and how other Tibetan and Nepali\ngroups see them. My friend explained that even though he is not \u2018Tibetan,\u2019 he\nstill identifies as being Tibetan, and does so proudly. Similar sentiments were\nexpressed to me by other people in Kagbeni. Throughout Kagbeni, and Upper\nMustang to the north, people align themselves more closely with Tibetan culture\nthan Nepali, while still maintaining their Nepali identity as well. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe royal family of Mustang provides a good example of the complicated relationship between Nepali and Tibetan identities. The family is said to be descended from Tibetan kings, yet today holds the surname Bista. This once again traces to the Rana regime and the following Panchayat era, in which \u201cof necessity, the [Loba] colonized themselves\u201d (Thapa 2008: 124). The name Bista comes from high-caste Hindu families originally, and was thus appropriated in order to increase the family\u2019s authority and recognition in the eyes of the Nepali government (Thapa 2008). Other Loba took on surnames in a similar way, often appropriating names of ethnic groups to the south of Mustang. While the Bistas are no longer recognized by the Nepali government today, they still hold social power in the region. One trekking guide who was originally from Lo Manthang told me that part of the reason the local people still respect and listen to the royal family is because \u201cit is past karma,\u201d so the people of Mustang just know to follow them. Whatever the reason, it became clear to me that the Loba put more trust and respect in the royal family of Mustang than the Nepali government.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBeyond language, there are other clear physical markers which point to the Loba being more in line with Tibetan culture. The clothing, buildings, and even the landscape of Upper Mustang all mirror that which is found in Tibet. While my friends from other regions of Nepal frequently spoke of wanting to travel to other regions of the country, the Loba I know in Kagbeni only ever spoke of wishing to visit Tibet. This is not purely for religious reasons, though going to pilgrimage sites such as Manasarovar lake certainly contributes to this desire. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThis closeness to Tibetan culture was further emphasized after 1959, when Mustang became a one of many settlement areas for Tibetan refugees \u201cdue to its close proximity to Tibetan territory, strong kinship and monastic relations with Tibetan populations and social\u2013physical landscape congruent to the Tibetan Plateau\u201d (Murton 2017: 538). Here, it is clear that the association between Mustang and Tibet goes past simply proximity or culture. In popular discourse, however, Mustang is still essentialized as being as close as you can get to \u201cauthentic\u201d Tibetan culture as it was before 1959. This perception is damaging for many reasons, and will be explored more in relation to tourism.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nReshaping Mustang<\/h3>\n\n\n\nMustang, Nepal has been\nshaped both internally and externally by religion and its relationship to\npolitics and culture. Buddhist and Bon structures have physically reshaped the\nlandscape, linking to mythology that maps onto it. These recreations of the\nland go back hundreds of years, to when Guru Rinpoche first came through the\nKali Gandaki in the 8th<\/sup> century. Bon influences on the land go back\neven further. The mingling of Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism has taken on ulterior\nmotives in the last century, however. Due to the governmental policies and lack\nof infrastructure in the region, Loba were pushed to either assimilate and\nbecome more recognizably \u201cNepali\u201d (meaning more Hindu), or leave for better\nopportunities elsewhere. The relationship with Tibet to the north was largely\nhalted as well, with only a trade fair in the summer remaining.<\/p>\n\n\n\nTurning\ntowards the tourism industry, the region is frequently characterized as a\nstronghold of Tibetan culture and religion, preserved by the restriction of the\nregion. Government policies, tourism agencies, and even museums point to\nMustang as being a special place in Nepal because of the presence of Tibetan\nBuddhism and Bon in its valleys. Kagbeni, on the border between Upper and Lower\nMustang, shows us that this popular essentialization of Loba people as purely\nreligious in many ways misinterprets the role of religion in daily life. Yes,\nsignals of Buddhism and Bon and Hinduism abound in the small town, and some\npeople do sit outside in the sun with prayer wheels spinning in their hands,\nbut this misses the complexity of the Kagbeni reality. Lives in Kagbeni are complicated and reshaped\nconstantly by the government, religions, and tourists intersecting within its\nspace. In the following chapter, I turn to look more closely at the impacts of\ntourism in and scholarship about Kagbeni and Upper Mustang.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTourism: Exceptionalism, Pilgrimage, and Romance<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Culture, Landscapes, and Identity Religious LandscapesThe Smell of the CowsTeam Tashi DelekReshaping Mustang Towards the end of my time in Kagbeni, I walked into the lounge area of the hotel I was living at to find Aama laying on one of the benches, reading quietly aloud to herself. Aama is the matriarch of the hotel, … Continue reading Religion<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3090,"featured_media":145,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-8","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3090"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8"}],"version-history":[{"count":18,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":368,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions\/368"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/145"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
[Sky Burial] is carried out at the tops of hills and mountains, where bodies are chopped up and fed to the birds\u2026 [it] is indicative of how the lack of natural resources, and the Buddhist idea of the interdependence of all things, are manifested in a religious custom (Vigoda 1989: 29). <\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n
In recent years, however, the practice has\ndied out almost completely. There are a few reasons for this. First, Himalayan\nVultures are now an endangered species. These giant birds who once played a\nlarge role in disposing of corpses were impacted by the use of DDT in India,\nand have thus decreased in population considerably. I noticed a distinct lack\nof vultures on my second visit to Mustang in 2018, whereas my group had\ngleefully spotted a few of the birds two years before. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The second reason for\nthe deemphasis on Sky Burials is linked to global trends of modernization.\nTraditional practices, especially around death, are often looked down on or\nseen as backward by more powerful, \u2018modern\u2019 or \u2018developed\u2019 countries. Even\nthough Mustang is remote and difficult to navigate, it has been linked to trade\nnetworks for hundreds of years. Many of the wealthier families in Mustang have\nhouses in Kathmandu as well, and often travel outside the region. Seasonal jobs\nbring people to India and Tibet for trade or construction work, and children\nare often sent to school in Pokhara or Kathmandu. As a result, there are many\nways that the communities of Mustang are shaped by global trends, even without\ntaking the impact of tourism into consideration. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
At the same time, the\nimagination of Mustang as a stronghold of Tibetan culture is one of the main\ndraws for tourism in the region, and there are many groups which are trying to\npreserve the culture of the region. The perception that Mustang\u2019s culture and\nlanguage is unique and under attack by globalization and modernization is\nprevalent among NGOs internal and external to Nepal. While there are some\ngroups like the American Himalayan Foundation that strive towards cultural\npreservation, Sky Burials are not the focus of preservation initiatives. On the\nother hand, the few Sky Burials that do still happen today have become a draw\nfor tourists who want to see a different culture in action; preservation for\nthe sake of tourism has a different sort of friction. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
While the Buddha\u2019s\nteachings make an impact on practitioners\u2019 relationship to the land, so does\nthe presence of the other deities in the Tibetan Buddhist and Bon cosmologies.\nThese deities inhabit the sky, atmosphere, and earth, and can be both\nbenevolent and wrathful (25). The domains of these deities recognized in\nTibetan Buddhism and Bon map onto the physical landscape of Mustang, and are\nmirrored by the structures built. In Mustang, the emphasis is placed most\nheavily on the mythology of Guru Padmasambhava, or Guru Rinpoche. In fact, the\nfigure of Guru Rinpoche is more important than that of the Buddha, and it is\nhis likeness that sits at the altar of some monasteries. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Muktinath, the\npilgrimage site to the east of Kagbeni, is one site where Guru Padmasambhava is\nsaid to have stopped, thus making it an important Buddhist site in addition to its\nimportance for Hindu pilgrims. A few days\u2019 walk north, outside of Gami village,\nthe longest mani<\/em> wall in Nepal sprawls\nacross a plateau, marking the site of a battle between Guru Padmasambhava and a\ndemoness. The canyon walls are blue and red with her blood, and a ch\u00f6rten<\/em> built in the 8th<\/sup>\ncentury safeguards her heart, cut out by Guru Padmasambhava. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Figure 30: Ch\u00f6rten<\/em> north of Gami, where the demoness\u2019 heart is kept <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nIn addition to shaping the physical environment with ch\u00f6rtens<\/em>, monasteries, sound, and prayer flags, much of Tibetan Buddhism focuses on turning inwards. In the harsh landscape of high-altitude desert, methods of self-realization are emphasized in order to have a chance of escaping samsara<\/em>, the cycle of rebirth, in a future life (Gualtieri 1983: 170-1). As discussed above, this often involves sensory contact with mantras, whether it be chanting them or carving or painting them on rock walls. Peter Crossley-Holland explains another aspect of the mantra\u2019s significance. According to him, \u201ca mantra is a symbol for the divine being it is said to embody, but it is also believed to be more than that: it is believed to be an actual emanation from that being, and so an aspect of it\u201d (Crossley-Holland 1976: 50). Following this logic, sensory interaction with a mantra is interaction with the divine. Similarly, the mantras written all over the landscape help to cloak it in the presence of the divine.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis ability of the mantra to reshape the landscape is exemplified further in the prayer flags hung from high surfaces all across Tibetan Buddhist communities. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Prayer flags in the wind<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nFigure 31: Prayer flags flapping in the wind <\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\nMy friend Sherab explained to me that the Buddhist prayer flags are hung in the windiest places, because every time they flap they send the mantra written on them out into the world. As discussed earlier, mantras have the ability to reshape people and places through sensory contact. Imagine a line of flags, whipping back and forth. With each movement, waves of vibrations are carried across the landscape, spreading the mantra written on their threads as far as the wind will carry it. These waves of vibrations create sounds, too [sound clip of flags in the wind]. In his study of voice, place, and identity in Kenya, Andrew Eisenberg writes about the territoriality of sound, the ways that sounds can create social space based on how far they travel and who interacts with them. He argues that \u201csonic practices territorialize by virtue of combining physical vibration with bodily sensation and culturally conditioned meanings\u201d (2015: 199). As the prayer flags send out their vibrations in the wind, they shape the landscape around them into a sacred space, from which liberation becomes more accessible. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe\nphysical vibrations emanating from flags reminds us how religious icons and\ntexts have the ability to transform \u201cthe ordinary, coarse world into an\nextraordinary realm of spiritual wisdom and compassion\u201d (Farkas 2009: 30). From the way mandalas are created in buildings\nto represent the universe, to the dying practice of Sky Burials, to the sounds\nof prayer flags in the wind, we see how \u201cterritorial and spatial\ndimensions are intrinsically linked to the practice of\nreligion\u201d (Terrone 2014: 463).This\nis not religion that adheres primarily to specific doctrines, but is rather a\nform of religion incorporated into daily life through smaller practices and\nreflections of the landscape.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nThe Smell of the Cows<\/h3>\n\n\n\n Figure 31: Cows in the street in Kagbeni <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Cows in the morning<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nThroughout\nmy time in Kagbeni, I heard over and over about people who had left the town and\ncame back years later, or who now live elsewhere and visit as often as\npossible. I was surprised by the number of visitors I met in the month I was living\nthere, and how positively they reminisced about returning home. When I asked\npeople if they would want to return and live in Kagbeni instead of only\nvisiting, they said things like \u201cthat would be nice\u201d or \u201coh yes, I wish,\u201d but\nin a way that told me they never would. I became curious about why many people return\nto visit, but so few come back for good.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis question could be answered in part by looking at the factors limiting opportunities in Mustang, which is one of the main reasons people leave. Not surprisingly, the restriction of the region from the 1960s onwards played a large role in Mustang\u2019s ability to grow and change over time. Manjushree Thapa explains this dynamic:<\/p>\n\n\n\nRestriction had not kept Upper Mustang beyond the reach of the modern world. Rather, it had forced people out. No new sources of income had entered the area, nor had traditional occupations found means to grow. The history-book pattern \u2014 of farming in the spring, animal husbandry in the summer, and trading in the winter \u2014 had remained the same for centuries; it had stagnated (Thapa 2008: 80).<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis restriction was\naccentuated by Chinese policies to the North as well. Following 1959 and the\ninvasion of Tibet, \u201cChinese authorities had clamped down on the practice of\ngrazing of Nepali animals on Tibetan grassland\u201d (Thapa 2008: 51). This means\nthat there was less dung that could be used for fuel, less animal meat, and\nless revenue. Migratory grazing was no longer an option in the way it once was.\nThis policy of restriction is promoted as something that protects the culture\nand keeps the area as a living museum, but has evidently harmed Mustang greatly\nafter decades of not providing support to the region. Without opportunities beyond\nagriculture and tourism, people who have the means to leave do, and only some return.<\/p>\n\n\n\nIt\nquickly became clear to me upon arriving in Mustang that the locals are heavily\nimpacted by the land. We have already seen this to some extent in the way that\nbuildings are made, and the relationships between religion and landscape. This\narea north of the Himalayas is classified as high-altitude desert, with\nlow-lying trees sparsely spread along the gorge. The endangered blue sheep roam\nthe hillsides above 3500 meters, and Himalayan vultures occasionally fly\noverhead. Wind and water have shaped the Kali Gandaki gorge (which was once on\nthe bottom of the ocean floor), but they have also shaped the people who live\nwithin its walls. <\/p>\n\n\n\nTowards the end of my stay in Kagbeni, I had the opportunity to meet three siblings who are originally from the town but now live in New York City. They were a few years older than me. The sister had moved to the United States for school, and was working on a master\u2019s degree. When I met the siblings, they were visiting their mother and grandmother, and said that they would be in Mustang for two months before returning to the USA. They missed this place, they told me, and needed to get a break from the hectic lifestyle of the city. I began to tell them about my project, explaining that the idea started because I was curious about the relationship with people and place. The sister nodded and said \u201cthe people here, they really respect the land, you know? Not like in New York.\u201d It is clear that, in Kagbeni, much more attention is given to what comes from the land, and how people interact with the land on a daily basis. In New York City, the sister argued, this connection, this respect, was lost. This sentiment was communicated to me by other people I met, like Kunga, who took such pride in the fresh food of Kagbeni, and it made the cultural use of the land another site of differentiation for the people who spoke about Mustang. Just as with the political and geographic boundaries placed on Upper Mustang, statements like the sister\u2019s once again distance Mustang from other places, this time focusing on the people rather than the land. This is done by both outsiders as well as locals. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAnother friend \u2013 Mama \u2013 told me a similar story about another Loba who lived in New York for many years before returning to Kagbeni: \u201che just gave up everything and moved back here to Kagbeni… he just loved this place, man. The smell of the cows.\u201d As someone who lives in Kathmandu but returns to his home in Tiri (across the river from Kagbeni) a few times a year, Mama showed a sense of disbelief at the man in his story. He too had moved away, made a new life and started a family in the city. One of his brothers was living in New York, studying to be a photographer. And yet, they were both pulled back to Kagbeni and Tiri, just like the three siblings earlier. Mama may have laughed about the smells of the livestock, but even he admitted that he would like to visit more than he does. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the monastery, the monks provide another example of a lasting commitment to the Kagbeni community. The khenpo<\/em>, who also happens to be Mama\u2019s brother, was originally from Tiri and came back to head the monastery after receiving a higher level of monastic education in India. In addition, one of the younger monks, Dorje, was saw his role at the monastery as a service to his community. In his 20s, Dorje left Tiri for a few years to go to school and live in Kathmandu, but has since returned in order to give back to Kagbeni as the middle son of his family. Dorje explained that it is common for people from the surrounding towns to serve at the monastery for a few years, without the expectation that they would remain a monk. In his case, Dorje spent one year at the monastery before returning to Kathmandu for a year, and is now finishing his time at Kag Chode in a two-year segment. He prefers living in Kathmandu, like many other men around his age that I talked to, but also recognizes that it is nice to be out of the city and back where his family is from. When asked if he would continue to be a monk when his three years of service were over, Dorje admitted that he had not yet decided. <\/p>\n\n\n\nOne of my older\nstudents showed this commitment in a different way. In order to be ordained at\na higher level, monks in the Sakya sect must receive further schooling in\nIndia. Of the 64 students at Kag Chode, it is likely that only a few will\nfollow this path. As they get older, students often decide to disrobe and\nreenter lay society. Since the school provides both a monastic and secular\neducation, many families send their children there for the free education and\nhousing, knowing that their children will be able to succeed with the education\nwhether or not they remain as monks. When I talked to one student about his\nplans following his graduation, he told me that he wants to be ordained at a\nhigher level, which means going to India. After receiving this further\neducation, his goal is to return to Mustang and help run the gompa<\/em> and teach younger students. <\/p>\n\n\n\nPeople\nleave Mustang for school, better jobs, seasonal work, or other opportunities.\nThey come back for different seasonal work, festivals, or to visit family. Because\nthe winters are harsh in Mustang, many people leave for the season. While a few\nolder community members and children stay behind to keep the town running in\nthe coldest months, the majority of people find work or live elsewhere. The\nentire monastic school, for instance, picks up and moves to Pokhara for a few\nmonths. This seasonal migration is by no means a new phenomenon, and shows that\neven when Mustang was restricted to foreigners, people have always come and\ngone with some frequency. Their claim of being Loba, however, remains with\nthem. People living in Kathmandu identify where they are from or what their\nethnic background is when they talk about their life in the city, and they also\nlabel others in this way. For example, one trekking guide mentioned that he has\n\u201ca lot of Manangi friends.\u201d Manang is the region to the east of Mustang, and\neven if his friends live predominantly in Kathmandu, the guide still identifies\nthem as being from Manang. In the same way, people often refer to a place as\n\u201cmy village,\u201d even when they have lived in Kathmandu for most of their lives.\nAlong the same lines, people who live in Kathmandu almost never say that they\nare form Kathmandu. <\/p>\n\n\n\nClaiming\nthe identity of the village or region your family is from is common throughout\nNepal, and is in many ways related to the caste system and Hinduization in the\nPanchayat era. This is also in part due to the wide diversity of ethnic groups\nand languages in Nepal, and the original formation of the country in the 18th<\/sup>\ncentury as a unified kingdom made up of many smaller, previously distinct\ngroups. While people in Mustang are definitively Nepali, they have a deep\nconnection to their homeland. As with the gompa<\/em>\ndonor now living in Hong Kong, many people want to maintain a connection to the\nregion and support it when they can. In Mustang\nBhot in Fragments<\/em>, Manjushree Thapa tells the story of one man who lived in\nKathmandu many years before returning to Mustang, hoping to improve the area after\ngrowing accustomed to the ways of the city. When asked why he wanted to come\nback and work on developing the area, he responded \u201cthis is home. If we don\u2019t\nimprove it, who will?\u201d (Thapa 2008: 50). This statement not only shows the deep\nconnection that Loba have to their communities, it also implies that other\npeople cannot be counted on to improve life there. After a history of being let\ndown by the Nepali government and other development projects, it makes sense\nthat the community would take it into their own hands to build the road north\nto Tibet, to spur the possibility of more opportunities.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nTeam Tashi Delek<\/em><\/h3>\n\n\n\nUp until this point, there have been occasional points of friction between Nepali and Tibetan and Loba identities. In ethnicity, religion, culture, and language, people of Mustang appear to be closer to Tibet than Nepal. This perception is held by most Nepali citizens, both from Mustang and from elsewhere. At the same time, these borderland communities are still Nepali, learning the official language and singing the national anthem each day in school. One day in class at Kag Chode, I was working with the students to practice grouping words that use the same vowel sounds. I created teams, splitting the class in half, and asked what they wanted their team names to be. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Tashi Delek<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Namaste<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe students broke into laughter, pleased with the names they had chosen. <\/p>\n\n\n\nI bring up this moment with the students (this class was ages 10 through 12) because it points to a divide in how Loba people perceive themselves in relation to Nepal. Tashi<\/em> delek<\/em> and namaste<\/em> are Tibetan and Nepali words respectively, and are both used as greetings. The local language in Mustang is Loke, which is closely related to Tibetan. As a result, tashi delek<\/em> is almost always what you hear being tossed around as you walk through the streets. Namaste <\/em>is reserved for foreigners and other Nepalis. While children are taught both Nepali and English in school (in addition to Tibetan language at monastic schools), people primarily still speak in Loke in Kagbeni, rarely switching into Nepali or English unless there is another person around who speaks one of those languages. English, Nepali, and Tibetan music mingle in the streets of Kagbeni, as people play music to accompany the harvest, household chores, or evening downtime. Each language carries a different cadence, mediating spoken interactions between locals and others passing through.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis divide is in part due to the Nepali government\u2019s history of aid (or lack of it) in Mustang, but is also deeply rooted in the cultural identity of Mustang. The heart of this issue comes from the distance that is felt between what it means to be Nepali and what it means to be Tibetan, and finding a place somewhere in between. While giving myself and a Nepali business group from Kathmandu a tour of Kagbeni, Mama explained <\/p>\n\n\n\nUpper Mustang, Lower Mustang, we want to be called Tibetan, but we are not Tibetan. Tibetans are migratory people you know? But because I was born here I can say that I\u2019m Tibetan. Historically we wandered around place to place with the yaks looking for grass.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis points to the\ndivide between how Loba people see themselves and how other Tibetan and Nepali\ngroups see them. My friend explained that even though he is not \u2018Tibetan,\u2019 he\nstill identifies as being Tibetan, and does so proudly. Similar sentiments were\nexpressed to me by other people in Kagbeni. Throughout Kagbeni, and Upper\nMustang to the north, people align themselves more closely with Tibetan culture\nthan Nepali, while still maintaining their Nepali identity as well. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe royal family of Mustang provides a good example of the complicated relationship between Nepali and Tibetan identities. The family is said to be descended from Tibetan kings, yet today holds the surname Bista. This once again traces to the Rana regime and the following Panchayat era, in which \u201cof necessity, the [Loba] colonized themselves\u201d (Thapa 2008: 124). The name Bista comes from high-caste Hindu families originally, and was thus appropriated in order to increase the family\u2019s authority and recognition in the eyes of the Nepali government (Thapa 2008). Other Loba took on surnames in a similar way, often appropriating names of ethnic groups to the south of Mustang. While the Bistas are no longer recognized by the Nepali government today, they still hold social power in the region. One trekking guide who was originally from Lo Manthang told me that part of the reason the local people still respect and listen to the royal family is because \u201cit is past karma,\u201d so the people of Mustang just know to follow them. Whatever the reason, it became clear to me that the Loba put more trust and respect in the royal family of Mustang than the Nepali government.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBeyond language, there are other clear physical markers which point to the Loba being more in line with Tibetan culture. The clothing, buildings, and even the landscape of Upper Mustang all mirror that which is found in Tibet. While my friends from other regions of Nepal frequently spoke of wanting to travel to other regions of the country, the Loba I know in Kagbeni only ever spoke of wishing to visit Tibet. This is not purely for religious reasons, though going to pilgrimage sites such as Manasarovar lake certainly contributes to this desire. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThis closeness to Tibetan culture was further emphasized after 1959, when Mustang became a one of many settlement areas for Tibetan refugees \u201cdue to its close proximity to Tibetan territory, strong kinship and monastic relations with Tibetan populations and social\u2013physical landscape congruent to the Tibetan Plateau\u201d (Murton 2017: 538). Here, it is clear that the association between Mustang and Tibet goes past simply proximity or culture. In popular discourse, however, Mustang is still essentialized as being as close as you can get to \u201cauthentic\u201d Tibetan culture as it was before 1959. This perception is damaging for many reasons, and will be explored more in relation to tourism.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nReshaping Mustang<\/h3>\n\n\n\nMustang, Nepal has been\nshaped both internally and externally by religion and its relationship to\npolitics and culture. Buddhist and Bon structures have physically reshaped the\nlandscape, linking to mythology that maps onto it. These recreations of the\nland go back hundreds of years, to when Guru Rinpoche first came through the\nKali Gandaki in the 8th<\/sup> century. Bon influences on the land go back\neven further. The mingling of Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism has taken on ulterior\nmotives in the last century, however. Due to the governmental policies and lack\nof infrastructure in the region, Loba were pushed to either assimilate and\nbecome more recognizably \u201cNepali\u201d (meaning more Hindu), or leave for better\nopportunities elsewhere. The relationship with Tibet to the north was largely\nhalted as well, with only a trade fair in the summer remaining.<\/p>\n\n\n\nTurning\ntowards the tourism industry, the region is frequently characterized as a\nstronghold of Tibetan culture and religion, preserved by the restriction of the\nregion. Government policies, tourism agencies, and even museums point to\nMustang as being a special place in Nepal because of the presence of Tibetan\nBuddhism and Bon in its valleys. Kagbeni, on the border between Upper and Lower\nMustang, shows us that this popular essentialization of Loba people as purely\nreligious in many ways misinterprets the role of religion in daily life. Yes,\nsignals of Buddhism and Bon and Hinduism abound in the small town, and some\npeople do sit outside in the sun with prayer wheels spinning in their hands,\nbut this misses the complexity of the Kagbeni reality. Lives in Kagbeni are complicated and reshaped\nconstantly by the government, religions, and tourists intersecting within its\nspace. In the following chapter, I turn to look more closely at the impacts of\ntourism in and scholarship about Kagbeni and Upper Mustang.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTourism: Exceptionalism, Pilgrimage, and Romance<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Culture, Landscapes, and Identity Religious LandscapesThe Smell of the CowsTeam Tashi DelekReshaping Mustang Towards the end of my time in Kagbeni, I walked into the lounge area of the hotel I was living at to find Aama laying on one of the benches, reading quietly aloud to herself. Aama is the matriarch of the hotel, … Continue reading Religion<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3090,"featured_media":145,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-8","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3090"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8"}],"version-history":[{"count":18,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":368,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions\/368"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/145"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
In addition to shaping the physical environment with ch\u00f6rtens<\/em>, monasteries, sound, and prayer flags, much of Tibetan Buddhism focuses on turning inwards. In the harsh landscape of high-altitude desert, methods of self-realization are emphasized in order to have a chance of escaping samsara<\/em>, the cycle of rebirth, in a future life (Gualtieri 1983: 170-1). As discussed above, this often involves sensory contact with mantras, whether it be chanting them or carving or painting them on rock walls. Peter Crossley-Holland explains another aspect of the mantra\u2019s significance. According to him, \u201ca mantra is a symbol for the divine being it is said to embody, but it is also believed to be more than that: it is believed to be an actual emanation from that being, and so an aspect of it\u201d (Crossley-Holland 1976: 50). Following this logic, sensory interaction with a mantra is interaction with the divine. Similarly, the mantras written all over the landscape help to cloak it in the presence of the divine.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis ability of the mantra to reshape the landscape is exemplified further in the prayer flags hung from high surfaces all across Tibetan Buddhist communities. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Prayer flags in the wind<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nFigure 31: Prayer flags flapping in the wind <\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\nMy friend Sherab explained to me that the Buddhist prayer flags are hung in the windiest places, because every time they flap they send the mantra written on them out into the world. As discussed earlier, mantras have the ability to reshape people and places through sensory contact. Imagine a line of flags, whipping back and forth. With each movement, waves of vibrations are carried across the landscape, spreading the mantra written on their threads as far as the wind will carry it. These waves of vibrations create sounds, too [sound clip of flags in the wind]. In his study of voice, place, and identity in Kenya, Andrew Eisenberg writes about the territoriality of sound, the ways that sounds can create social space based on how far they travel and who interacts with them. He argues that \u201csonic practices territorialize by virtue of combining physical vibration with bodily sensation and culturally conditioned meanings\u201d (2015: 199). As the prayer flags send out their vibrations in the wind, they shape the landscape around them into a sacred space, from which liberation becomes more accessible. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe\nphysical vibrations emanating from flags reminds us how religious icons and\ntexts have the ability to transform \u201cthe ordinary, coarse world into an\nextraordinary realm of spiritual wisdom and compassion\u201d (Farkas 2009: 30). From the way mandalas are created in buildings\nto represent the universe, to the dying practice of Sky Burials, to the sounds\nof prayer flags in the wind, we see how \u201cterritorial and spatial\ndimensions are intrinsically linked to the practice of\nreligion\u201d (Terrone 2014: 463).This\nis not religion that adheres primarily to specific doctrines, but is rather a\nform of religion incorporated into daily life through smaller practices and\nreflections of the landscape.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nThe Smell of the Cows<\/h3>\n\n\n\n Figure 31: Cows in the street in Kagbeni <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Cows in the morning<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nThroughout\nmy time in Kagbeni, I heard over and over about people who had left the town and\ncame back years later, or who now live elsewhere and visit as often as\npossible. I was surprised by the number of visitors I met in the month I was living\nthere, and how positively they reminisced about returning home. When I asked\npeople if they would want to return and live in Kagbeni instead of only\nvisiting, they said things like \u201cthat would be nice\u201d or \u201coh yes, I wish,\u201d but\nin a way that told me they never would. I became curious about why many people return\nto visit, but so few come back for good.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis question could be answered in part by looking at the factors limiting opportunities in Mustang, which is one of the main reasons people leave. Not surprisingly, the restriction of the region from the 1960s onwards played a large role in Mustang\u2019s ability to grow and change over time. Manjushree Thapa explains this dynamic:<\/p>\n\n\n\nRestriction had not kept Upper Mustang beyond the reach of the modern world. Rather, it had forced people out. No new sources of income had entered the area, nor had traditional occupations found means to grow. The history-book pattern \u2014 of farming in the spring, animal husbandry in the summer, and trading in the winter \u2014 had remained the same for centuries; it had stagnated (Thapa 2008: 80).<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis restriction was\naccentuated by Chinese policies to the North as well. Following 1959 and the\ninvasion of Tibet, \u201cChinese authorities had clamped down on the practice of\ngrazing of Nepali animals on Tibetan grassland\u201d (Thapa 2008: 51). This means\nthat there was less dung that could be used for fuel, less animal meat, and\nless revenue. Migratory grazing was no longer an option in the way it once was.\nThis policy of restriction is promoted as something that protects the culture\nand keeps the area as a living museum, but has evidently harmed Mustang greatly\nafter decades of not providing support to the region. Without opportunities beyond\nagriculture and tourism, people who have the means to leave do, and only some return.<\/p>\n\n\n\nIt\nquickly became clear to me upon arriving in Mustang that the locals are heavily\nimpacted by the land. We have already seen this to some extent in the way that\nbuildings are made, and the relationships between religion and landscape. This\narea north of the Himalayas is classified as high-altitude desert, with\nlow-lying trees sparsely spread along the gorge. The endangered blue sheep roam\nthe hillsides above 3500 meters, and Himalayan vultures occasionally fly\noverhead. Wind and water have shaped the Kali Gandaki gorge (which was once on\nthe bottom of the ocean floor), but they have also shaped the people who live\nwithin its walls. <\/p>\n\n\n\nTowards the end of my stay in Kagbeni, I had the opportunity to meet three siblings who are originally from the town but now live in New York City. They were a few years older than me. The sister had moved to the United States for school, and was working on a master\u2019s degree. When I met the siblings, they were visiting their mother and grandmother, and said that they would be in Mustang for two months before returning to the USA. They missed this place, they told me, and needed to get a break from the hectic lifestyle of the city. I began to tell them about my project, explaining that the idea started because I was curious about the relationship with people and place. The sister nodded and said \u201cthe people here, they really respect the land, you know? Not like in New York.\u201d It is clear that, in Kagbeni, much more attention is given to what comes from the land, and how people interact with the land on a daily basis. In New York City, the sister argued, this connection, this respect, was lost. This sentiment was communicated to me by other people I met, like Kunga, who took such pride in the fresh food of Kagbeni, and it made the cultural use of the land another site of differentiation for the people who spoke about Mustang. Just as with the political and geographic boundaries placed on Upper Mustang, statements like the sister\u2019s once again distance Mustang from other places, this time focusing on the people rather than the land. This is done by both outsiders as well as locals. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAnother friend \u2013 Mama \u2013 told me a similar story about another Loba who lived in New York for many years before returning to Kagbeni: \u201che just gave up everything and moved back here to Kagbeni… he just loved this place, man. The smell of the cows.\u201d As someone who lives in Kathmandu but returns to his home in Tiri (across the river from Kagbeni) a few times a year, Mama showed a sense of disbelief at the man in his story. He too had moved away, made a new life and started a family in the city. One of his brothers was living in New York, studying to be a photographer. And yet, they were both pulled back to Kagbeni and Tiri, just like the three siblings earlier. Mama may have laughed about the smells of the livestock, but even he admitted that he would like to visit more than he does. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the monastery, the monks provide another example of a lasting commitment to the Kagbeni community. The khenpo<\/em>, who also happens to be Mama\u2019s brother, was originally from Tiri and came back to head the monastery after receiving a higher level of monastic education in India. In addition, one of the younger monks, Dorje, was saw his role at the monastery as a service to his community. In his 20s, Dorje left Tiri for a few years to go to school and live in Kathmandu, but has since returned in order to give back to Kagbeni as the middle son of his family. Dorje explained that it is common for people from the surrounding towns to serve at the monastery for a few years, without the expectation that they would remain a monk. In his case, Dorje spent one year at the monastery before returning to Kathmandu for a year, and is now finishing his time at Kag Chode in a two-year segment. He prefers living in Kathmandu, like many other men around his age that I talked to, but also recognizes that it is nice to be out of the city and back where his family is from. When asked if he would continue to be a monk when his three years of service were over, Dorje admitted that he had not yet decided. <\/p>\n\n\n\nOne of my older\nstudents showed this commitment in a different way. In order to be ordained at\na higher level, monks in the Sakya sect must receive further schooling in\nIndia. Of the 64 students at Kag Chode, it is likely that only a few will\nfollow this path. As they get older, students often decide to disrobe and\nreenter lay society. Since the school provides both a monastic and secular\neducation, many families send their children there for the free education and\nhousing, knowing that their children will be able to succeed with the education\nwhether or not they remain as monks. When I talked to one student about his\nplans following his graduation, he told me that he wants to be ordained at a\nhigher level, which means going to India. After receiving this further\neducation, his goal is to return to Mustang and help run the gompa<\/em> and teach younger students. <\/p>\n\n\n\nPeople\nleave Mustang for school, better jobs, seasonal work, or other opportunities.\nThey come back for different seasonal work, festivals, or to visit family. Because\nthe winters are harsh in Mustang, many people leave for the season. While a few\nolder community members and children stay behind to keep the town running in\nthe coldest months, the majority of people find work or live elsewhere. The\nentire monastic school, for instance, picks up and moves to Pokhara for a few\nmonths. This seasonal migration is by no means a new phenomenon, and shows that\neven when Mustang was restricted to foreigners, people have always come and\ngone with some frequency. Their claim of being Loba, however, remains with\nthem. People living in Kathmandu identify where they are from or what their\nethnic background is when they talk about their life in the city, and they also\nlabel others in this way. For example, one trekking guide mentioned that he has\n\u201ca lot of Manangi friends.\u201d Manang is the region to the east of Mustang, and\neven if his friends live predominantly in Kathmandu, the guide still identifies\nthem as being from Manang. In the same way, people often refer to a place as\n\u201cmy village,\u201d even when they have lived in Kathmandu for most of their lives.\nAlong the same lines, people who live in Kathmandu almost never say that they\nare form Kathmandu. <\/p>\n\n\n\nClaiming\nthe identity of the village or region your family is from is common throughout\nNepal, and is in many ways related to the caste system and Hinduization in the\nPanchayat era. This is also in part due to the wide diversity of ethnic groups\nand languages in Nepal, and the original formation of the country in the 18th<\/sup>\ncentury as a unified kingdom made up of many smaller, previously distinct\ngroups. While people in Mustang are definitively Nepali, they have a deep\nconnection to their homeland. As with the gompa<\/em>\ndonor now living in Hong Kong, many people want to maintain a connection to the\nregion and support it when they can. In Mustang\nBhot in Fragments<\/em>, Manjushree Thapa tells the story of one man who lived in\nKathmandu many years before returning to Mustang, hoping to improve the area after\ngrowing accustomed to the ways of the city. When asked why he wanted to come\nback and work on developing the area, he responded \u201cthis is home. If we don\u2019t\nimprove it, who will?\u201d (Thapa 2008: 50). This statement not only shows the deep\nconnection that Loba have to their communities, it also implies that other\npeople cannot be counted on to improve life there. After a history of being let\ndown by the Nepali government and other development projects, it makes sense\nthat the community would take it into their own hands to build the road north\nto Tibet, to spur the possibility of more opportunities.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nTeam Tashi Delek<\/em><\/h3>\n\n\n\nUp until this point, there have been occasional points of friction between Nepali and Tibetan and Loba identities. In ethnicity, religion, culture, and language, people of Mustang appear to be closer to Tibet than Nepal. This perception is held by most Nepali citizens, both from Mustang and from elsewhere. At the same time, these borderland communities are still Nepali, learning the official language and singing the national anthem each day in school. One day in class at Kag Chode, I was working with the students to practice grouping words that use the same vowel sounds. I created teams, splitting the class in half, and asked what they wanted their team names to be. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Tashi Delek<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Namaste<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe students broke into laughter, pleased with the names they had chosen. <\/p>\n\n\n\nI bring up this moment with the students (this class was ages 10 through 12) because it points to a divide in how Loba people perceive themselves in relation to Nepal. Tashi<\/em> delek<\/em> and namaste<\/em> are Tibetan and Nepali words respectively, and are both used as greetings. The local language in Mustang is Loke, which is closely related to Tibetan. As a result, tashi delek<\/em> is almost always what you hear being tossed around as you walk through the streets. Namaste <\/em>is reserved for foreigners and other Nepalis. While children are taught both Nepali and English in school (in addition to Tibetan language at monastic schools), people primarily still speak in Loke in Kagbeni, rarely switching into Nepali or English unless there is another person around who speaks one of those languages. English, Nepali, and Tibetan music mingle in the streets of Kagbeni, as people play music to accompany the harvest, household chores, or evening downtime. Each language carries a different cadence, mediating spoken interactions between locals and others passing through.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis divide is in part due to the Nepali government\u2019s history of aid (or lack of it) in Mustang, but is also deeply rooted in the cultural identity of Mustang. The heart of this issue comes from the distance that is felt between what it means to be Nepali and what it means to be Tibetan, and finding a place somewhere in between. While giving myself and a Nepali business group from Kathmandu a tour of Kagbeni, Mama explained <\/p>\n\n\n\nUpper Mustang, Lower Mustang, we want to be called Tibetan, but we are not Tibetan. Tibetans are migratory people you know? But because I was born here I can say that I\u2019m Tibetan. Historically we wandered around place to place with the yaks looking for grass.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis points to the\ndivide between how Loba people see themselves and how other Tibetan and Nepali\ngroups see them. My friend explained that even though he is not \u2018Tibetan,\u2019 he\nstill identifies as being Tibetan, and does so proudly. Similar sentiments were\nexpressed to me by other people in Kagbeni. Throughout Kagbeni, and Upper\nMustang to the north, people align themselves more closely with Tibetan culture\nthan Nepali, while still maintaining their Nepali identity as well. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe royal family of Mustang provides a good example of the complicated relationship between Nepali and Tibetan identities. The family is said to be descended from Tibetan kings, yet today holds the surname Bista. This once again traces to the Rana regime and the following Panchayat era, in which \u201cof necessity, the [Loba] colonized themselves\u201d (Thapa 2008: 124). The name Bista comes from high-caste Hindu families originally, and was thus appropriated in order to increase the family\u2019s authority and recognition in the eyes of the Nepali government (Thapa 2008). Other Loba took on surnames in a similar way, often appropriating names of ethnic groups to the south of Mustang. While the Bistas are no longer recognized by the Nepali government today, they still hold social power in the region. One trekking guide who was originally from Lo Manthang told me that part of the reason the local people still respect and listen to the royal family is because \u201cit is past karma,\u201d so the people of Mustang just know to follow them. Whatever the reason, it became clear to me that the Loba put more trust and respect in the royal family of Mustang than the Nepali government.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBeyond language, there are other clear physical markers which point to the Loba being more in line with Tibetan culture. The clothing, buildings, and even the landscape of Upper Mustang all mirror that which is found in Tibet. While my friends from other regions of Nepal frequently spoke of wanting to travel to other regions of the country, the Loba I know in Kagbeni only ever spoke of wishing to visit Tibet. This is not purely for religious reasons, though going to pilgrimage sites such as Manasarovar lake certainly contributes to this desire. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThis closeness to Tibetan culture was further emphasized after 1959, when Mustang became a one of many settlement areas for Tibetan refugees \u201cdue to its close proximity to Tibetan territory, strong kinship and monastic relations with Tibetan populations and social\u2013physical landscape congruent to the Tibetan Plateau\u201d (Murton 2017: 538). Here, it is clear that the association between Mustang and Tibet goes past simply proximity or culture. In popular discourse, however, Mustang is still essentialized as being as close as you can get to \u201cauthentic\u201d Tibetan culture as it was before 1959. This perception is damaging for many reasons, and will be explored more in relation to tourism.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nReshaping Mustang<\/h3>\n\n\n\nMustang, Nepal has been\nshaped both internally and externally by religion and its relationship to\npolitics and culture. Buddhist and Bon structures have physically reshaped the\nlandscape, linking to mythology that maps onto it. These recreations of the\nland go back hundreds of years, to when Guru Rinpoche first came through the\nKali Gandaki in the 8th<\/sup> century. Bon influences on the land go back\neven further. The mingling of Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism has taken on ulterior\nmotives in the last century, however. Due to the governmental policies and lack\nof infrastructure in the region, Loba were pushed to either assimilate and\nbecome more recognizably \u201cNepali\u201d (meaning more Hindu), or leave for better\nopportunities elsewhere. The relationship with Tibet to the north was largely\nhalted as well, with only a trade fair in the summer remaining.<\/p>\n\n\n\nTurning\ntowards the tourism industry, the region is frequently characterized as a\nstronghold of Tibetan culture and religion, preserved by the restriction of the\nregion. Government policies, tourism agencies, and even museums point to\nMustang as being a special place in Nepal because of the presence of Tibetan\nBuddhism and Bon in its valleys. Kagbeni, on the border between Upper and Lower\nMustang, shows us that this popular essentialization of Loba people as purely\nreligious in many ways misinterprets the role of religion in daily life. Yes,\nsignals of Buddhism and Bon and Hinduism abound in the small town, and some\npeople do sit outside in the sun with prayer wheels spinning in their hands,\nbut this misses the complexity of the Kagbeni reality. Lives in Kagbeni are complicated and reshaped\nconstantly by the government, religions, and tourists intersecting within its\nspace. In the following chapter, I turn to look more closely at the impacts of\ntourism in and scholarship about Kagbeni and Upper Mustang.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTourism: Exceptionalism, Pilgrimage, and Romance<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Culture, Landscapes, and Identity Religious LandscapesThe Smell of the CowsTeam Tashi DelekReshaping Mustang Towards the end of my time in Kagbeni, I walked into the lounge area of the hotel I was living at to find Aama laying on one of the benches, reading quietly aloud to herself. Aama is the matriarch of the hotel, … Continue reading Religion<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3090,"featured_media":145,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-8","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3090"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8"}],"version-history":[{"count":18,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":368,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions\/368"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/145"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
This ability of the mantra to reshape the landscape is exemplified further in the prayer flags hung from high surfaces all across Tibetan Buddhist communities. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Prayer flags in the wind<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nFigure 31: Prayer flags flapping in the wind <\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\nMy friend Sherab explained to me that the Buddhist prayer flags are hung in the windiest places, because every time they flap they send the mantra written on them out into the world. As discussed earlier, mantras have the ability to reshape people and places through sensory contact. Imagine a line of flags, whipping back and forth. With each movement, waves of vibrations are carried across the landscape, spreading the mantra written on their threads as far as the wind will carry it. These waves of vibrations create sounds, too [sound clip of flags in the wind]. In his study of voice, place, and identity in Kenya, Andrew Eisenberg writes about the territoriality of sound, the ways that sounds can create social space based on how far they travel and who interacts with them. He argues that \u201csonic practices territorialize by virtue of combining physical vibration with bodily sensation and culturally conditioned meanings\u201d (2015: 199). As the prayer flags send out their vibrations in the wind, they shape the landscape around them into a sacred space, from which liberation becomes more accessible. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe\nphysical vibrations emanating from flags reminds us how religious icons and\ntexts have the ability to transform \u201cthe ordinary, coarse world into an\nextraordinary realm of spiritual wisdom and compassion\u201d (Farkas 2009: 30). From the way mandalas are created in buildings\nto represent the universe, to the dying practice of Sky Burials, to the sounds\nof prayer flags in the wind, we see how \u201cterritorial and spatial\ndimensions are intrinsically linked to the practice of\nreligion\u201d (Terrone 2014: 463).This\nis not religion that adheres primarily to specific doctrines, but is rather a\nform of religion incorporated into daily life through smaller practices and\nreflections of the landscape.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nThe Smell of the Cows<\/h3>\n\n\n\n Figure 31: Cows in the street in Kagbeni <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/audio>Cows in the morning<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n\nThroughout\nmy time in Kagbeni, I heard over and over about people who had left the town and\ncame back years later, or who now live elsewhere and visit as often as\npossible. I was surprised by the number of visitors I met in the month I was living\nthere, and how positively they reminisced about returning home. When I asked\npeople if they would want to return and live in Kagbeni instead of only\nvisiting, they said things like \u201cthat would be nice\u201d or \u201coh yes, I wish,\u201d but\nin a way that told me they never would. I became curious about why many people return\nto visit, but so few come back for good.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis question could be answered in part by looking at the factors limiting opportunities in Mustang, which is one of the main reasons people leave. Not surprisingly, the restriction of the region from the 1960s onwards played a large role in Mustang\u2019s ability to grow and change over time. Manjushree Thapa explains this dynamic:<\/p>\n\n\n\nRestriction had not kept Upper Mustang beyond the reach of the modern world. Rather, it had forced people out. No new sources of income had entered the area, nor had traditional occupations found means to grow. The history-book pattern \u2014 of farming in the spring, animal husbandry in the summer, and trading in the winter \u2014 had remained the same for centuries; it had stagnated (Thapa 2008: 80).<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis restriction was\naccentuated by Chinese policies to the North as well. Following 1959 and the\ninvasion of Tibet, \u201cChinese authorities had clamped down on the practice of\ngrazing of Nepali animals on Tibetan grassland\u201d (Thapa 2008: 51). This means\nthat there was less dung that could be used for fuel, less animal meat, and\nless revenue. Migratory grazing was no longer an option in the way it once was.\nThis policy of restriction is promoted as something that protects the culture\nand keeps the area as a living museum, but has evidently harmed Mustang greatly\nafter decades of not providing support to the region. Without opportunities beyond\nagriculture and tourism, people who have the means to leave do, and only some return.<\/p>\n\n\n\nIt\nquickly became clear to me upon arriving in Mustang that the locals are heavily\nimpacted by the land. We have already seen this to some extent in the way that\nbuildings are made, and the relationships between religion and landscape. This\narea north of the Himalayas is classified as high-altitude desert, with\nlow-lying trees sparsely spread along the gorge. The endangered blue sheep roam\nthe hillsides above 3500 meters, and Himalayan vultures occasionally fly\noverhead. Wind and water have shaped the Kali Gandaki gorge (which was once on\nthe bottom of the ocean floor), but they have also shaped the people who live\nwithin its walls. <\/p>\n\n\n\nTowards the end of my stay in Kagbeni, I had the opportunity to meet three siblings who are originally from the town but now live in New York City. They were a few years older than me. The sister had moved to the United States for school, and was working on a master\u2019s degree. When I met the siblings, they were visiting their mother and grandmother, and said that they would be in Mustang for two months before returning to the USA. They missed this place, they told me, and needed to get a break from the hectic lifestyle of the city. I began to tell them about my project, explaining that the idea started because I was curious about the relationship with people and place. The sister nodded and said \u201cthe people here, they really respect the land, you know? Not like in New York.\u201d It is clear that, in Kagbeni, much more attention is given to what comes from the land, and how people interact with the land on a daily basis. In New York City, the sister argued, this connection, this respect, was lost. This sentiment was communicated to me by other people I met, like Kunga, who took such pride in the fresh food of Kagbeni, and it made the cultural use of the land another site of differentiation for the people who spoke about Mustang. Just as with the political and geographic boundaries placed on Upper Mustang, statements like the sister\u2019s once again distance Mustang from other places, this time focusing on the people rather than the land. This is done by both outsiders as well as locals. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAnother friend \u2013 Mama \u2013 told me a similar story about another Loba who lived in New York for many years before returning to Kagbeni: \u201che just gave up everything and moved back here to Kagbeni… he just loved this place, man. The smell of the cows.\u201d As someone who lives in Kathmandu but returns to his home in Tiri (across the river from Kagbeni) a few times a year, Mama showed a sense of disbelief at the man in his story. He too had moved away, made a new life and started a family in the city. One of his brothers was living in New York, studying to be a photographer. And yet, they were both pulled back to Kagbeni and Tiri, just like the three siblings earlier. Mama may have laughed about the smells of the livestock, but even he admitted that he would like to visit more than he does. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the monastery, the monks provide another example of a lasting commitment to the Kagbeni community. The khenpo<\/em>, who also happens to be Mama\u2019s brother, was originally from Tiri and came back to head the monastery after receiving a higher level of monastic education in India. In addition, one of the younger monks, Dorje, was saw his role at the monastery as a service to his community. In his 20s, Dorje left Tiri for a few years to go to school and live in Kathmandu, but has since returned in order to give back to Kagbeni as the middle son of his family. Dorje explained that it is common for people from the surrounding towns to serve at the monastery for a few years, without the expectation that they would remain a monk. In his case, Dorje spent one year at the monastery before returning to Kathmandu for a year, and is now finishing his time at Kag Chode in a two-year segment. He prefers living in Kathmandu, like many other men around his age that I talked to, but also recognizes that it is nice to be out of the city and back where his family is from. When asked if he would continue to be a monk when his three years of service were over, Dorje admitted that he had not yet decided. <\/p>\n\n\n\nOne of my older\nstudents showed this commitment in a different way. In order to be ordained at\na higher level, monks in the Sakya sect must receive further schooling in\nIndia. Of the 64 students at Kag Chode, it is likely that only a few will\nfollow this path. As they get older, students often decide to disrobe and\nreenter lay society. Since the school provides both a monastic and secular\neducation, many families send their children there for the free education and\nhousing, knowing that their children will be able to succeed with the education\nwhether or not they remain as monks. When I talked to one student about his\nplans following his graduation, he told me that he wants to be ordained at a\nhigher level, which means going to India. After receiving this further\neducation, his goal is to return to Mustang and help run the gompa<\/em> and teach younger students. <\/p>\n\n\n\nPeople\nleave Mustang for school, better jobs, seasonal work, or other opportunities.\nThey come back for different seasonal work, festivals, or to visit family. Because\nthe winters are harsh in Mustang, many people leave for the season. While a few\nolder community members and children stay behind to keep the town running in\nthe coldest months, the majority of people find work or live elsewhere. The\nentire monastic school, for instance, picks up and moves to Pokhara for a few\nmonths. This seasonal migration is by no means a new phenomenon, and shows that\neven when Mustang was restricted to foreigners, people have always come and\ngone with some frequency. Their claim of being Loba, however, remains with\nthem. People living in Kathmandu identify where they are from or what their\nethnic background is when they talk about their life in the city, and they also\nlabel others in this way. For example, one trekking guide mentioned that he has\n\u201ca lot of Manangi friends.\u201d Manang is the region to the east of Mustang, and\neven if his friends live predominantly in Kathmandu, the guide still identifies\nthem as being from Manang. In the same way, people often refer to a place as\n\u201cmy village,\u201d even when they have lived in Kathmandu for most of their lives.\nAlong the same lines, people who live in Kathmandu almost never say that they\nare form Kathmandu. <\/p>\n\n\n\nClaiming\nthe identity of the village or region your family is from is common throughout\nNepal, and is in many ways related to the caste system and Hinduization in the\nPanchayat era. This is also in part due to the wide diversity of ethnic groups\nand languages in Nepal, and the original formation of the country in the 18th<\/sup>\ncentury as a unified kingdom made up of many smaller, previously distinct\ngroups. While people in Mustang are definitively Nepali, they have a deep\nconnection to their homeland. As with the gompa<\/em>\ndonor now living in Hong Kong, many people want to maintain a connection to the\nregion and support it when they can. In Mustang\nBhot in Fragments<\/em>, Manjushree Thapa tells the story of one man who lived in\nKathmandu many years before returning to Mustang, hoping to improve the area after\ngrowing accustomed to the ways of the city. When asked why he wanted to come\nback and work on developing the area, he responded \u201cthis is home. If we don\u2019t\nimprove it, who will?\u201d (Thapa 2008: 50). This statement not only shows the deep\nconnection that Loba have to their communities, it also implies that other\npeople cannot be counted on to improve life there. After a history of being let\ndown by the Nepali government and other development projects, it makes sense\nthat the community would take it into their own hands to build the road north\nto Tibet, to spur the possibility of more opportunities.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nTeam Tashi Delek<\/em><\/h3>\n\n\n\nUp until this point, there have been occasional points of friction between Nepali and Tibetan and Loba identities. In ethnicity, religion, culture, and language, people of Mustang appear to be closer to Tibet than Nepal. This perception is held by most Nepali citizens, both from Mustang and from elsewhere. At the same time, these borderland communities are still Nepali, learning the official language and singing the national anthem each day in school. One day in class at Kag Chode, I was working with the students to practice grouping words that use the same vowel sounds. I created teams, splitting the class in half, and asked what they wanted their team names to be. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Tashi Delek<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Namaste<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe students broke into laughter, pleased with the names they had chosen. <\/p>\n\n\n\nI bring up this moment with the students (this class was ages 10 through 12) because it points to a divide in how Loba people perceive themselves in relation to Nepal. Tashi<\/em> delek<\/em> and namaste<\/em> are Tibetan and Nepali words respectively, and are both used as greetings. The local language in Mustang is Loke, which is closely related to Tibetan. As a result, tashi delek<\/em> is almost always what you hear being tossed around as you walk through the streets. Namaste <\/em>is reserved for foreigners and other Nepalis. While children are taught both Nepali and English in school (in addition to Tibetan language at monastic schools), people primarily still speak in Loke in Kagbeni, rarely switching into Nepali or English unless there is another person around who speaks one of those languages. English, Nepali, and Tibetan music mingle in the streets of Kagbeni, as people play music to accompany the harvest, household chores, or evening downtime. Each language carries a different cadence, mediating spoken interactions between locals and others passing through.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis divide is in part due to the Nepali government\u2019s history of aid (or lack of it) in Mustang, but is also deeply rooted in the cultural identity of Mustang. The heart of this issue comes from the distance that is felt between what it means to be Nepali and what it means to be Tibetan, and finding a place somewhere in between. While giving myself and a Nepali business group from Kathmandu a tour of Kagbeni, Mama explained <\/p>\n\n\n\nUpper Mustang, Lower Mustang, we want to be called Tibetan, but we are not Tibetan. Tibetans are migratory people you know? But because I was born here I can say that I\u2019m Tibetan. Historically we wandered around place to place with the yaks looking for grass.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis points to the\ndivide between how Loba people see themselves and how other Tibetan and Nepali\ngroups see them. My friend explained that even though he is not \u2018Tibetan,\u2019 he\nstill identifies as being Tibetan, and does so proudly. Similar sentiments were\nexpressed to me by other people in Kagbeni. Throughout Kagbeni, and Upper\nMustang to the north, people align themselves more closely with Tibetan culture\nthan Nepali, while still maintaining their Nepali identity as well. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe royal family of Mustang provides a good example of the complicated relationship between Nepali and Tibetan identities. The family is said to be descended from Tibetan kings, yet today holds the surname Bista. This once again traces to the Rana regime and the following Panchayat era, in which \u201cof necessity, the [Loba] colonized themselves\u201d (Thapa 2008: 124). The name Bista comes from high-caste Hindu families originally, and was thus appropriated in order to increase the family\u2019s authority and recognition in the eyes of the Nepali government (Thapa 2008). Other Loba took on surnames in a similar way, often appropriating names of ethnic groups to the south of Mustang. While the Bistas are no longer recognized by the Nepali government today, they still hold social power in the region. One trekking guide who was originally from Lo Manthang told me that part of the reason the local people still respect and listen to the royal family is because \u201cit is past karma,\u201d so the people of Mustang just know to follow them. Whatever the reason, it became clear to me that the Loba put more trust and respect in the royal family of Mustang than the Nepali government.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBeyond language, there are other clear physical markers which point to the Loba being more in line with Tibetan culture. The clothing, buildings, and even the landscape of Upper Mustang all mirror that which is found in Tibet. While my friends from other regions of Nepal frequently spoke of wanting to travel to other regions of the country, the Loba I know in Kagbeni only ever spoke of wishing to visit Tibet. This is not purely for religious reasons, though going to pilgrimage sites such as Manasarovar lake certainly contributes to this desire. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThis closeness to Tibetan culture was further emphasized after 1959, when Mustang became a one of many settlement areas for Tibetan refugees \u201cdue to its close proximity to Tibetan territory, strong kinship and monastic relations with Tibetan populations and social\u2013physical landscape congruent to the Tibetan Plateau\u201d (Murton 2017: 538). Here, it is clear that the association between Mustang and Tibet goes past simply proximity or culture. In popular discourse, however, Mustang is still essentialized as being as close as you can get to \u201cauthentic\u201d Tibetan culture as it was before 1959. This perception is damaging for many reasons, and will be explored more in relation to tourism.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nReshaping Mustang<\/h3>\n\n\n\nMustang, Nepal has been\nshaped both internally and externally by religion and its relationship to\npolitics and culture. Buddhist and Bon structures have physically reshaped the\nlandscape, linking to mythology that maps onto it. These recreations of the\nland go back hundreds of years, to when Guru Rinpoche first came through the\nKali Gandaki in the 8th<\/sup> century. Bon influences on the land go back\neven further. The mingling of Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism has taken on ulterior\nmotives in the last century, however. Due to the governmental policies and lack\nof infrastructure in the region, Loba were pushed to either assimilate and\nbecome more recognizably \u201cNepali\u201d (meaning more Hindu), or leave for better\nopportunities elsewhere. The relationship with Tibet to the north was largely\nhalted as well, with only a trade fair in the summer remaining.<\/p>\n\n\n\nTurning\ntowards the tourism industry, the region is frequently characterized as a\nstronghold of Tibetan culture and religion, preserved by the restriction of the\nregion. Government policies, tourism agencies, and even museums point to\nMustang as being a special place in Nepal because of the presence of Tibetan\nBuddhism and Bon in its valleys. Kagbeni, on the border between Upper and Lower\nMustang, shows us that this popular essentialization of Loba people as purely\nreligious in many ways misinterprets the role of religion in daily life. Yes,\nsignals of Buddhism and Bon and Hinduism abound in the small town, and some\npeople do sit outside in the sun with prayer wheels spinning in their hands,\nbut this misses the complexity of the Kagbeni reality. Lives in Kagbeni are complicated and reshaped\nconstantly by the government, religions, and tourists intersecting within its\nspace. In the following chapter, I turn to look more closely at the impacts of\ntourism in and scholarship about Kagbeni and Upper Mustang.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTourism: Exceptionalism, Pilgrimage, and Romance<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Culture, Landscapes, and Identity Religious LandscapesThe Smell of the CowsTeam Tashi DelekReshaping Mustang Towards the end of my time in Kagbeni, I walked into the lounge area of the hotel I was living at to find Aama laying on one of the benches, reading quietly aloud to herself. Aama is the matriarch of the hotel, … Continue reading Religion<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3090,"featured_media":145,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-8","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3090"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8"}],"version-history":[{"count":18,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":368,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions\/368"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/145"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
My friend Sherab explained to me that the Buddhist prayer flags are hung in the windiest places, because every time they flap they send the mantra written on them out into the world. As discussed earlier, mantras have the ability to reshape people and places through sensory contact. Imagine a line of flags, whipping back and forth. With each movement, waves of vibrations are carried across the landscape, spreading the mantra written on their threads as far as the wind will carry it. These waves of vibrations create sounds, too [sound clip of flags in the wind]. In his study of voice, place, and identity in Kenya, Andrew Eisenberg writes about the territoriality of sound, the ways that sounds can create social space based on how far they travel and who interacts with them. He argues that \u201csonic practices territorialize by virtue of combining physical vibration with bodily sensation and culturally conditioned meanings\u201d (2015: 199). As the prayer flags send out their vibrations in the wind, they shape the landscape around them into a sacred space, from which liberation becomes more accessible. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The\nphysical vibrations emanating from flags reminds us how religious icons and\ntexts have the ability to transform \u201cthe ordinary, coarse world into an\nextraordinary realm of spiritual wisdom and compassion\u201d (Farkas 2009: 30). From the way mandalas are created in buildings\nto represent the universe, to the dying practice of Sky Burials, to the sounds\nof prayer flags in the wind, we see how \u201cterritorial and spatial\ndimensions are intrinsically linked to the practice of\nreligion\u201d (Terrone 2014: 463).This\nis not religion that adheres primarily to specific doctrines, but is rather a\nform of religion incorporated into daily life through smaller practices and\nreflections of the landscape.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Throughout\nmy time in Kagbeni, I heard over and over about people who had left the town and\ncame back years later, or who now live elsewhere and visit as often as\npossible. I was surprised by the number of visitors I met in the month I was living\nthere, and how positively they reminisced about returning home. When I asked\npeople if they would want to return and live in Kagbeni instead of only\nvisiting, they said things like \u201cthat would be nice\u201d or \u201coh yes, I wish,\u201d but\nin a way that told me they never would. I became curious about why many people return\nto visit, but so few come back for good.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This question could be answered in part by looking at the factors limiting opportunities in Mustang, which is one of the main reasons people leave. Not surprisingly, the restriction of the region from the 1960s onwards played a large role in Mustang\u2019s ability to grow and change over time. Manjushree Thapa explains this dynamic:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Restriction had not kept Upper Mustang beyond the reach of the modern world. Rather, it had forced people out. No new sources of income had entered the area, nor had traditional occupations found means to grow. The history-book pattern \u2014 of farming in the spring, animal husbandry in the summer, and trading in the winter \u2014 had remained the same for centuries; it had stagnated (Thapa 2008: 80).<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis restriction was\naccentuated by Chinese policies to the North as well. Following 1959 and the\ninvasion of Tibet, \u201cChinese authorities had clamped down on the practice of\ngrazing of Nepali animals on Tibetan grassland\u201d (Thapa 2008: 51). This means\nthat there was less dung that could be used for fuel, less animal meat, and\nless revenue. Migratory grazing was no longer an option in the way it once was.\nThis policy of restriction is promoted as something that protects the culture\nand keeps the area as a living museum, but has evidently harmed Mustang greatly\nafter decades of not providing support to the region. Without opportunities beyond\nagriculture and tourism, people who have the means to leave do, and only some return.<\/p>\n\n\n\nIt\nquickly became clear to me upon arriving in Mustang that the locals are heavily\nimpacted by the land. We have already seen this to some extent in the way that\nbuildings are made, and the relationships between religion and landscape. This\narea north of the Himalayas is classified as high-altitude desert, with\nlow-lying trees sparsely spread along the gorge. The endangered blue sheep roam\nthe hillsides above 3500 meters, and Himalayan vultures occasionally fly\noverhead. Wind and water have shaped the Kali Gandaki gorge (which was once on\nthe bottom of the ocean floor), but they have also shaped the people who live\nwithin its walls. <\/p>\n\n\n\nTowards the end of my stay in Kagbeni, I had the opportunity to meet three siblings who are originally from the town but now live in New York City. They were a few years older than me. The sister had moved to the United States for school, and was working on a master\u2019s degree. When I met the siblings, they were visiting their mother and grandmother, and said that they would be in Mustang for two months before returning to the USA. They missed this place, they told me, and needed to get a break from the hectic lifestyle of the city. I began to tell them about my project, explaining that the idea started because I was curious about the relationship with people and place. The sister nodded and said \u201cthe people here, they really respect the land, you know? Not like in New York.\u201d It is clear that, in Kagbeni, much more attention is given to what comes from the land, and how people interact with the land on a daily basis. In New York City, the sister argued, this connection, this respect, was lost. This sentiment was communicated to me by other people I met, like Kunga, who took such pride in the fresh food of Kagbeni, and it made the cultural use of the land another site of differentiation for the people who spoke about Mustang. Just as with the political and geographic boundaries placed on Upper Mustang, statements like the sister\u2019s once again distance Mustang from other places, this time focusing on the people rather than the land. This is done by both outsiders as well as locals. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAnother friend \u2013 Mama \u2013 told me a similar story about another Loba who lived in New York for many years before returning to Kagbeni: \u201che just gave up everything and moved back here to Kagbeni… he just loved this place, man. The smell of the cows.\u201d As someone who lives in Kathmandu but returns to his home in Tiri (across the river from Kagbeni) a few times a year, Mama showed a sense of disbelief at the man in his story. He too had moved away, made a new life and started a family in the city. One of his brothers was living in New York, studying to be a photographer. And yet, they were both pulled back to Kagbeni and Tiri, just like the three siblings earlier. Mama may have laughed about the smells of the livestock, but even he admitted that he would like to visit more than he does. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAt the monastery, the monks provide another example of a lasting commitment to the Kagbeni community. The khenpo<\/em>, who also happens to be Mama\u2019s brother, was originally from Tiri and came back to head the monastery after receiving a higher level of monastic education in India. In addition, one of the younger monks, Dorje, was saw his role at the monastery as a service to his community. In his 20s, Dorje left Tiri for a few years to go to school and live in Kathmandu, but has since returned in order to give back to Kagbeni as the middle son of his family. Dorje explained that it is common for people from the surrounding towns to serve at the monastery for a few years, without the expectation that they would remain a monk. In his case, Dorje spent one year at the monastery before returning to Kathmandu for a year, and is now finishing his time at Kag Chode in a two-year segment. He prefers living in Kathmandu, like many other men around his age that I talked to, but also recognizes that it is nice to be out of the city and back where his family is from. When asked if he would continue to be a monk when his three years of service were over, Dorje admitted that he had not yet decided. <\/p>\n\n\n\nOne of my older\nstudents showed this commitment in a different way. In order to be ordained at\na higher level, monks in the Sakya sect must receive further schooling in\nIndia. Of the 64 students at Kag Chode, it is likely that only a few will\nfollow this path. As they get older, students often decide to disrobe and\nreenter lay society. Since the school provides both a monastic and secular\neducation, many families send their children there for the free education and\nhousing, knowing that their children will be able to succeed with the education\nwhether or not they remain as monks. When I talked to one student about his\nplans following his graduation, he told me that he wants to be ordained at a\nhigher level, which means going to India. After receiving this further\neducation, his goal is to return to Mustang and help run the gompa<\/em> and teach younger students. <\/p>\n\n\n\nPeople\nleave Mustang for school, better jobs, seasonal work, or other opportunities.\nThey come back for different seasonal work, festivals, or to visit family. Because\nthe winters are harsh in Mustang, many people leave for the season. While a few\nolder community members and children stay behind to keep the town running in\nthe coldest months, the majority of people find work or live elsewhere. The\nentire monastic school, for instance, picks up and moves to Pokhara for a few\nmonths. This seasonal migration is by no means a new phenomenon, and shows that\neven when Mustang was restricted to foreigners, people have always come and\ngone with some frequency. Their claim of being Loba, however, remains with\nthem. People living in Kathmandu identify where they are from or what their\nethnic background is when they talk about their life in the city, and they also\nlabel others in this way. For example, one trekking guide mentioned that he has\n\u201ca lot of Manangi friends.\u201d Manang is the region to the east of Mustang, and\neven if his friends live predominantly in Kathmandu, the guide still identifies\nthem as being from Manang. In the same way, people often refer to a place as\n\u201cmy village,\u201d even when they have lived in Kathmandu for most of their lives.\nAlong the same lines, people who live in Kathmandu almost never say that they\nare form Kathmandu. <\/p>\n\n\n\nClaiming\nthe identity of the village or region your family is from is common throughout\nNepal, and is in many ways related to the caste system and Hinduization in the\nPanchayat era. This is also in part due to the wide diversity of ethnic groups\nand languages in Nepal, and the original formation of the country in the 18th<\/sup>\ncentury as a unified kingdom made up of many smaller, previously distinct\ngroups. While people in Mustang are definitively Nepali, they have a deep\nconnection to their homeland. As with the gompa<\/em>\ndonor now living in Hong Kong, many people want to maintain a connection to the\nregion and support it when they can. In Mustang\nBhot in Fragments<\/em>, Manjushree Thapa tells the story of one man who lived in\nKathmandu many years before returning to Mustang, hoping to improve the area after\ngrowing accustomed to the ways of the city. When asked why he wanted to come\nback and work on developing the area, he responded \u201cthis is home. If we don\u2019t\nimprove it, who will?\u201d (Thapa 2008: 50). This statement not only shows the deep\nconnection that Loba have to their communities, it also implies that other\npeople cannot be counted on to improve life there. After a history of being let\ndown by the Nepali government and other development projects, it makes sense\nthat the community would take it into their own hands to build the road north\nto Tibet, to spur the possibility of more opportunities.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nTeam Tashi Delek<\/em><\/h3>\n\n\n\nUp until this point, there have been occasional points of friction between Nepali and Tibetan and Loba identities. In ethnicity, religion, culture, and language, people of Mustang appear to be closer to Tibet than Nepal. This perception is held by most Nepali citizens, both from Mustang and from elsewhere. At the same time, these borderland communities are still Nepali, learning the official language and singing the national anthem each day in school. One day in class at Kag Chode, I was working with the students to practice grouping words that use the same vowel sounds. I created teams, splitting the class in half, and asked what they wanted their team names to be. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Tashi Delek<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Namaste<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe students broke into laughter, pleased with the names they had chosen. <\/p>\n\n\n\nI bring up this moment with the students (this class was ages 10 through 12) because it points to a divide in how Loba people perceive themselves in relation to Nepal. Tashi<\/em> delek<\/em> and namaste<\/em> are Tibetan and Nepali words respectively, and are both used as greetings. The local language in Mustang is Loke, which is closely related to Tibetan. As a result, tashi delek<\/em> is almost always what you hear being tossed around as you walk through the streets. Namaste <\/em>is reserved for foreigners and other Nepalis. While children are taught both Nepali and English in school (in addition to Tibetan language at monastic schools), people primarily still speak in Loke in Kagbeni, rarely switching into Nepali or English unless there is another person around who speaks one of those languages. English, Nepali, and Tibetan music mingle in the streets of Kagbeni, as people play music to accompany the harvest, household chores, or evening downtime. Each language carries a different cadence, mediating spoken interactions between locals and others passing through.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis divide is in part due to the Nepali government\u2019s history of aid (or lack of it) in Mustang, but is also deeply rooted in the cultural identity of Mustang. The heart of this issue comes from the distance that is felt between what it means to be Nepali and what it means to be Tibetan, and finding a place somewhere in between. While giving myself and a Nepali business group from Kathmandu a tour of Kagbeni, Mama explained <\/p>\n\n\n\nUpper Mustang, Lower Mustang, we want to be called Tibetan, but we are not Tibetan. Tibetans are migratory people you know? But because I was born here I can say that I\u2019m Tibetan. Historically we wandered around place to place with the yaks looking for grass.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis points to the\ndivide between how Loba people see themselves and how other Tibetan and Nepali\ngroups see them. My friend explained that even though he is not \u2018Tibetan,\u2019 he\nstill identifies as being Tibetan, and does so proudly. Similar sentiments were\nexpressed to me by other people in Kagbeni. Throughout Kagbeni, and Upper\nMustang to the north, people align themselves more closely with Tibetan culture\nthan Nepali, while still maintaining their Nepali identity as well. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe royal family of Mustang provides a good example of the complicated relationship between Nepali and Tibetan identities. The family is said to be descended from Tibetan kings, yet today holds the surname Bista. This once again traces to the Rana regime and the following Panchayat era, in which \u201cof necessity, the [Loba] colonized themselves\u201d (Thapa 2008: 124). The name Bista comes from high-caste Hindu families originally, and was thus appropriated in order to increase the family\u2019s authority and recognition in the eyes of the Nepali government (Thapa 2008). Other Loba took on surnames in a similar way, often appropriating names of ethnic groups to the south of Mustang. While the Bistas are no longer recognized by the Nepali government today, they still hold social power in the region. One trekking guide who was originally from Lo Manthang told me that part of the reason the local people still respect and listen to the royal family is because \u201cit is past karma,\u201d so the people of Mustang just know to follow them. Whatever the reason, it became clear to me that the Loba put more trust and respect in the royal family of Mustang than the Nepali government.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBeyond language, there are other clear physical markers which point to the Loba being more in line with Tibetan culture. The clothing, buildings, and even the landscape of Upper Mustang all mirror that which is found in Tibet. While my friends from other regions of Nepal frequently spoke of wanting to travel to other regions of the country, the Loba I know in Kagbeni only ever spoke of wishing to visit Tibet. This is not purely for religious reasons, though going to pilgrimage sites such as Manasarovar lake certainly contributes to this desire. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThis closeness to Tibetan culture was further emphasized after 1959, when Mustang became a one of many settlement areas for Tibetan refugees \u201cdue to its close proximity to Tibetan territory, strong kinship and monastic relations with Tibetan populations and social\u2013physical landscape congruent to the Tibetan Plateau\u201d (Murton 2017: 538). Here, it is clear that the association between Mustang and Tibet goes past simply proximity or culture. In popular discourse, however, Mustang is still essentialized as being as close as you can get to \u201cauthentic\u201d Tibetan culture as it was before 1959. This perception is damaging for many reasons, and will be explored more in relation to tourism.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nReshaping Mustang<\/h3>\n\n\n\nMustang, Nepal has been\nshaped both internally and externally by religion and its relationship to\npolitics and culture. Buddhist and Bon structures have physically reshaped the\nlandscape, linking to mythology that maps onto it. These recreations of the\nland go back hundreds of years, to when Guru Rinpoche first came through the\nKali Gandaki in the 8th<\/sup> century. Bon influences on the land go back\neven further. The mingling of Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism has taken on ulterior\nmotives in the last century, however. Due to the governmental policies and lack\nof infrastructure in the region, Loba were pushed to either assimilate and\nbecome more recognizably \u201cNepali\u201d (meaning more Hindu), or leave for better\nopportunities elsewhere. The relationship with Tibet to the north was largely\nhalted as well, with only a trade fair in the summer remaining.<\/p>\n\n\n\nTurning\ntowards the tourism industry, the region is frequently characterized as a\nstronghold of Tibetan culture and religion, preserved by the restriction of the\nregion. Government policies, tourism agencies, and even museums point to\nMustang as being a special place in Nepal because of the presence of Tibetan\nBuddhism and Bon in its valleys. Kagbeni, on the border between Upper and Lower\nMustang, shows us that this popular essentialization of Loba people as purely\nreligious in many ways misinterprets the role of religion in daily life. Yes,\nsignals of Buddhism and Bon and Hinduism abound in the small town, and some\npeople do sit outside in the sun with prayer wheels spinning in their hands,\nbut this misses the complexity of the Kagbeni reality. Lives in Kagbeni are complicated and reshaped\nconstantly by the government, religions, and tourists intersecting within its\nspace. In the following chapter, I turn to look more closely at the impacts of\ntourism in and scholarship about Kagbeni and Upper Mustang.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTourism: Exceptionalism, Pilgrimage, and Romance<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Culture, Landscapes, and Identity Religious LandscapesThe Smell of the CowsTeam Tashi DelekReshaping Mustang Towards the end of my time in Kagbeni, I walked into the lounge area of the hotel I was living at to find Aama laying on one of the benches, reading quietly aloud to herself. Aama is the matriarch of the hotel, … Continue reading Religion<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3090,"featured_media":145,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-8","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3090"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8"}],"version-history":[{"count":18,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":368,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions\/368"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/145"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
Restriction had not kept Upper Mustang beyond the reach of the modern world. Rather, it had forced people out. No new sources of income had entered the area, nor had traditional occupations found means to grow. The history-book pattern \u2014 of farming in the spring, animal husbandry in the summer, and trading in the winter \u2014 had remained the same for centuries; it had stagnated (Thapa 2008: 80).<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n
This restriction was\naccentuated by Chinese policies to the North as well. Following 1959 and the\ninvasion of Tibet, \u201cChinese authorities had clamped down on the practice of\ngrazing of Nepali animals on Tibetan grassland\u201d (Thapa 2008: 51). This means\nthat there was less dung that could be used for fuel, less animal meat, and\nless revenue. Migratory grazing was no longer an option in the way it once was.\nThis policy of restriction is promoted as something that protects the culture\nand keeps the area as a living museum, but has evidently harmed Mustang greatly\nafter decades of not providing support to the region. Without opportunities beyond\nagriculture and tourism, people who have the means to leave do, and only some return.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It\nquickly became clear to me upon arriving in Mustang that the locals are heavily\nimpacted by the land. We have already seen this to some extent in the way that\nbuildings are made, and the relationships between religion and landscape. This\narea north of the Himalayas is classified as high-altitude desert, with\nlow-lying trees sparsely spread along the gorge. The endangered blue sheep roam\nthe hillsides above 3500 meters, and Himalayan vultures occasionally fly\noverhead. Wind and water have shaped the Kali Gandaki gorge (which was once on\nthe bottom of the ocean floor), but they have also shaped the people who live\nwithin its walls. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Towards the end of my stay in Kagbeni, I had the opportunity to meet three siblings who are originally from the town but now live in New York City. They were a few years older than me. The sister had moved to the United States for school, and was working on a master\u2019s degree. When I met the siblings, they were visiting their mother and grandmother, and said that they would be in Mustang for two months before returning to the USA. They missed this place, they told me, and needed to get a break from the hectic lifestyle of the city. I began to tell them about my project, explaining that the idea started because I was curious about the relationship with people and place. The sister nodded and said \u201cthe people here, they really respect the land, you know? Not like in New York.\u201d It is clear that, in Kagbeni, much more attention is given to what comes from the land, and how people interact with the land on a daily basis. In New York City, the sister argued, this connection, this respect, was lost. This sentiment was communicated to me by other people I met, like Kunga, who took such pride in the fresh food of Kagbeni, and it made the cultural use of the land another site of differentiation for the people who spoke about Mustang. Just as with the political and geographic boundaries placed on Upper Mustang, statements like the sister\u2019s once again distance Mustang from other places, this time focusing on the people rather than the land. This is done by both outsiders as well as locals. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Another friend \u2013 Mama \u2013 told me a similar story about another Loba who lived in New York for many years before returning to Kagbeni: \u201che just gave up everything and moved back here to Kagbeni… he just loved this place, man. The smell of the cows.\u201d As someone who lives in Kathmandu but returns to his home in Tiri (across the river from Kagbeni) a few times a year, Mama showed a sense of disbelief at the man in his story. He too had moved away, made a new life and started a family in the city. One of his brothers was living in New York, studying to be a photographer. And yet, they were both pulled back to Kagbeni and Tiri, just like the three siblings earlier. Mama may have laughed about the smells of the livestock, but even he admitted that he would like to visit more than he does. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
At the monastery, the monks provide another example of a lasting commitment to the Kagbeni community. The khenpo<\/em>, who also happens to be Mama\u2019s brother, was originally from Tiri and came back to head the monastery after receiving a higher level of monastic education in India. In addition, one of the younger monks, Dorje, was saw his role at the monastery as a service to his community. In his 20s, Dorje left Tiri for a few years to go to school and live in Kathmandu, but has since returned in order to give back to Kagbeni as the middle son of his family. Dorje explained that it is common for people from the surrounding towns to serve at the monastery for a few years, without the expectation that they would remain a monk. In his case, Dorje spent one year at the monastery before returning to Kathmandu for a year, and is now finishing his time at Kag Chode in a two-year segment. He prefers living in Kathmandu, like many other men around his age that I talked to, but also recognizes that it is nice to be out of the city and back where his family is from. When asked if he would continue to be a monk when his three years of service were over, Dorje admitted that he had not yet decided. <\/p>\n\n\n\nOne of my older\nstudents showed this commitment in a different way. In order to be ordained at\na higher level, monks in the Sakya sect must receive further schooling in\nIndia. Of the 64 students at Kag Chode, it is likely that only a few will\nfollow this path. As they get older, students often decide to disrobe and\nreenter lay society. Since the school provides both a monastic and secular\neducation, many families send their children there for the free education and\nhousing, knowing that their children will be able to succeed with the education\nwhether or not they remain as monks. When I talked to one student about his\nplans following his graduation, he told me that he wants to be ordained at a\nhigher level, which means going to India. After receiving this further\neducation, his goal is to return to Mustang and help run the gompa<\/em> and teach younger students. <\/p>\n\n\n\nPeople\nleave Mustang for school, better jobs, seasonal work, or other opportunities.\nThey come back for different seasonal work, festivals, or to visit family. Because\nthe winters are harsh in Mustang, many people leave for the season. While a few\nolder community members and children stay behind to keep the town running in\nthe coldest months, the majority of people find work or live elsewhere. The\nentire monastic school, for instance, picks up and moves to Pokhara for a few\nmonths. This seasonal migration is by no means a new phenomenon, and shows that\neven when Mustang was restricted to foreigners, people have always come and\ngone with some frequency. Their claim of being Loba, however, remains with\nthem. People living in Kathmandu identify where they are from or what their\nethnic background is when they talk about their life in the city, and they also\nlabel others in this way. For example, one trekking guide mentioned that he has\n\u201ca lot of Manangi friends.\u201d Manang is the region to the east of Mustang, and\neven if his friends live predominantly in Kathmandu, the guide still identifies\nthem as being from Manang. In the same way, people often refer to a place as\n\u201cmy village,\u201d even when they have lived in Kathmandu for most of their lives.\nAlong the same lines, people who live in Kathmandu almost never say that they\nare form Kathmandu. <\/p>\n\n\n\nClaiming\nthe identity of the village or region your family is from is common throughout\nNepal, and is in many ways related to the caste system and Hinduization in the\nPanchayat era. This is also in part due to the wide diversity of ethnic groups\nand languages in Nepal, and the original formation of the country in the 18th<\/sup>\ncentury as a unified kingdom made up of many smaller, previously distinct\ngroups. While people in Mustang are definitively Nepali, they have a deep\nconnection to their homeland. As with the gompa<\/em>\ndonor now living in Hong Kong, many people want to maintain a connection to the\nregion and support it when they can. In Mustang\nBhot in Fragments<\/em>, Manjushree Thapa tells the story of one man who lived in\nKathmandu many years before returning to Mustang, hoping to improve the area after\ngrowing accustomed to the ways of the city. When asked why he wanted to come\nback and work on developing the area, he responded \u201cthis is home. If we don\u2019t\nimprove it, who will?\u201d (Thapa 2008: 50). This statement not only shows the deep\nconnection that Loba have to their communities, it also implies that other\npeople cannot be counted on to improve life there. After a history of being let\ndown by the Nepali government and other development projects, it makes sense\nthat the community would take it into their own hands to build the road north\nto Tibet, to spur the possibility of more opportunities.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nTeam Tashi Delek<\/em><\/h3>\n\n\n\nUp until this point, there have been occasional points of friction between Nepali and Tibetan and Loba identities. In ethnicity, religion, culture, and language, people of Mustang appear to be closer to Tibet than Nepal. This perception is held by most Nepali citizens, both from Mustang and from elsewhere. At the same time, these borderland communities are still Nepali, learning the official language and singing the national anthem each day in school. One day in class at Kag Chode, I was working with the students to practice grouping words that use the same vowel sounds. I created teams, splitting the class in half, and asked what they wanted their team names to be. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Tashi Delek<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Namaste<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe students broke into laughter, pleased with the names they had chosen. <\/p>\n\n\n\nI bring up this moment with the students (this class was ages 10 through 12) because it points to a divide in how Loba people perceive themselves in relation to Nepal. Tashi<\/em> delek<\/em> and namaste<\/em> are Tibetan and Nepali words respectively, and are both used as greetings. The local language in Mustang is Loke, which is closely related to Tibetan. As a result, tashi delek<\/em> is almost always what you hear being tossed around as you walk through the streets. Namaste <\/em>is reserved for foreigners and other Nepalis. While children are taught both Nepali and English in school (in addition to Tibetan language at monastic schools), people primarily still speak in Loke in Kagbeni, rarely switching into Nepali or English unless there is another person around who speaks one of those languages. English, Nepali, and Tibetan music mingle in the streets of Kagbeni, as people play music to accompany the harvest, household chores, or evening downtime. Each language carries a different cadence, mediating spoken interactions between locals and others passing through.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis divide is in part due to the Nepali government\u2019s history of aid (or lack of it) in Mustang, but is also deeply rooted in the cultural identity of Mustang. The heart of this issue comes from the distance that is felt between what it means to be Nepali and what it means to be Tibetan, and finding a place somewhere in between. While giving myself and a Nepali business group from Kathmandu a tour of Kagbeni, Mama explained <\/p>\n\n\n\nUpper Mustang, Lower Mustang, we want to be called Tibetan, but we are not Tibetan. Tibetans are migratory people you know? But because I was born here I can say that I\u2019m Tibetan. Historically we wandered around place to place with the yaks looking for grass.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis points to the\ndivide between how Loba people see themselves and how other Tibetan and Nepali\ngroups see them. My friend explained that even though he is not \u2018Tibetan,\u2019 he\nstill identifies as being Tibetan, and does so proudly. Similar sentiments were\nexpressed to me by other people in Kagbeni. Throughout Kagbeni, and Upper\nMustang to the north, people align themselves more closely with Tibetan culture\nthan Nepali, while still maintaining their Nepali identity as well. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe royal family of Mustang provides a good example of the complicated relationship between Nepali and Tibetan identities. The family is said to be descended from Tibetan kings, yet today holds the surname Bista. This once again traces to the Rana regime and the following Panchayat era, in which \u201cof necessity, the [Loba] colonized themselves\u201d (Thapa 2008: 124). The name Bista comes from high-caste Hindu families originally, and was thus appropriated in order to increase the family\u2019s authority and recognition in the eyes of the Nepali government (Thapa 2008). Other Loba took on surnames in a similar way, often appropriating names of ethnic groups to the south of Mustang. While the Bistas are no longer recognized by the Nepali government today, they still hold social power in the region. One trekking guide who was originally from Lo Manthang told me that part of the reason the local people still respect and listen to the royal family is because \u201cit is past karma,\u201d so the people of Mustang just know to follow them. Whatever the reason, it became clear to me that the Loba put more trust and respect in the royal family of Mustang than the Nepali government.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBeyond language, there are other clear physical markers which point to the Loba being more in line with Tibetan culture. The clothing, buildings, and even the landscape of Upper Mustang all mirror that which is found in Tibet. While my friends from other regions of Nepal frequently spoke of wanting to travel to other regions of the country, the Loba I know in Kagbeni only ever spoke of wishing to visit Tibet. This is not purely for religious reasons, though going to pilgrimage sites such as Manasarovar lake certainly contributes to this desire. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThis closeness to Tibetan culture was further emphasized after 1959, when Mustang became a one of many settlement areas for Tibetan refugees \u201cdue to its close proximity to Tibetan territory, strong kinship and monastic relations with Tibetan populations and social\u2013physical landscape congruent to the Tibetan Plateau\u201d (Murton 2017: 538). Here, it is clear that the association between Mustang and Tibet goes past simply proximity or culture. In popular discourse, however, Mustang is still essentialized as being as close as you can get to \u201cauthentic\u201d Tibetan culture as it was before 1959. This perception is damaging for many reasons, and will be explored more in relation to tourism.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nReshaping Mustang<\/h3>\n\n\n\nMustang, Nepal has been\nshaped both internally and externally by religion and its relationship to\npolitics and culture. Buddhist and Bon structures have physically reshaped the\nlandscape, linking to mythology that maps onto it. These recreations of the\nland go back hundreds of years, to when Guru Rinpoche first came through the\nKali Gandaki in the 8th<\/sup> century. Bon influences on the land go back\neven further. The mingling of Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism has taken on ulterior\nmotives in the last century, however. Due to the governmental policies and lack\nof infrastructure in the region, Loba were pushed to either assimilate and\nbecome more recognizably \u201cNepali\u201d (meaning more Hindu), or leave for better\nopportunities elsewhere. The relationship with Tibet to the north was largely\nhalted as well, with only a trade fair in the summer remaining.<\/p>\n\n\n\nTurning\ntowards the tourism industry, the region is frequently characterized as a\nstronghold of Tibetan culture and religion, preserved by the restriction of the\nregion. Government policies, tourism agencies, and even museums point to\nMustang as being a special place in Nepal because of the presence of Tibetan\nBuddhism and Bon in its valleys. Kagbeni, on the border between Upper and Lower\nMustang, shows us that this popular essentialization of Loba people as purely\nreligious in many ways misinterprets the role of religion in daily life. Yes,\nsignals of Buddhism and Bon and Hinduism abound in the small town, and some\npeople do sit outside in the sun with prayer wheels spinning in their hands,\nbut this misses the complexity of the Kagbeni reality. Lives in Kagbeni are complicated and reshaped\nconstantly by the government, religions, and tourists intersecting within its\nspace. In the following chapter, I turn to look more closely at the impacts of\ntourism in and scholarship about Kagbeni and Upper Mustang.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTourism: Exceptionalism, Pilgrimage, and Romance<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Culture, Landscapes, and Identity Religious LandscapesThe Smell of the CowsTeam Tashi DelekReshaping Mustang Towards the end of my time in Kagbeni, I walked into the lounge area of the hotel I was living at to find Aama laying on one of the benches, reading quietly aloud to herself. Aama is the matriarch of the hotel, … Continue reading Religion<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3090,"featured_media":145,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-8","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3090"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8"}],"version-history":[{"count":18,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":368,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions\/368"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/145"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
One of my older\nstudents showed this commitment in a different way. In order to be ordained at\na higher level, monks in the Sakya sect must receive further schooling in\nIndia. Of the 64 students at Kag Chode, it is likely that only a few will\nfollow this path. As they get older, students often decide to disrobe and\nreenter lay society. Since the school provides both a monastic and secular\neducation, many families send their children there for the free education and\nhousing, knowing that their children will be able to succeed with the education\nwhether or not they remain as monks. When I talked to one student about his\nplans following his graduation, he told me that he wants to be ordained at a\nhigher level, which means going to India. After receiving this further\neducation, his goal is to return to Mustang and help run the gompa<\/em> and teach younger students. <\/p>\n\n\n\nPeople\nleave Mustang for school, better jobs, seasonal work, or other opportunities.\nThey come back for different seasonal work, festivals, or to visit family. Because\nthe winters are harsh in Mustang, many people leave for the season. While a few\nolder community members and children stay behind to keep the town running in\nthe coldest months, the majority of people find work or live elsewhere. The\nentire monastic school, for instance, picks up and moves to Pokhara for a few\nmonths. This seasonal migration is by no means a new phenomenon, and shows that\neven when Mustang was restricted to foreigners, people have always come and\ngone with some frequency. Their claim of being Loba, however, remains with\nthem. People living in Kathmandu identify where they are from or what their\nethnic background is when they talk about their life in the city, and they also\nlabel others in this way. For example, one trekking guide mentioned that he has\n\u201ca lot of Manangi friends.\u201d Manang is the region to the east of Mustang, and\neven if his friends live predominantly in Kathmandu, the guide still identifies\nthem as being from Manang. In the same way, people often refer to a place as\n\u201cmy village,\u201d even when they have lived in Kathmandu for most of their lives.\nAlong the same lines, people who live in Kathmandu almost never say that they\nare form Kathmandu. <\/p>\n\n\n\nClaiming\nthe identity of the village or region your family is from is common throughout\nNepal, and is in many ways related to the caste system and Hinduization in the\nPanchayat era. This is also in part due to the wide diversity of ethnic groups\nand languages in Nepal, and the original formation of the country in the 18th<\/sup>\ncentury as a unified kingdom made up of many smaller, previously distinct\ngroups. While people in Mustang are definitively Nepali, they have a deep\nconnection to their homeland. As with the gompa<\/em>\ndonor now living in Hong Kong, many people want to maintain a connection to the\nregion and support it when they can. In Mustang\nBhot in Fragments<\/em>, Manjushree Thapa tells the story of one man who lived in\nKathmandu many years before returning to Mustang, hoping to improve the area after\ngrowing accustomed to the ways of the city. When asked why he wanted to come\nback and work on developing the area, he responded \u201cthis is home. If we don\u2019t\nimprove it, who will?\u201d (Thapa 2008: 50). This statement not only shows the deep\nconnection that Loba have to their communities, it also implies that other\npeople cannot be counted on to improve life there. After a history of being let\ndown by the Nepali government and other development projects, it makes sense\nthat the community would take it into their own hands to build the road north\nto Tibet, to spur the possibility of more opportunities.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nTeam Tashi Delek<\/em><\/h3>\n\n\n\nUp until this point, there have been occasional points of friction between Nepali and Tibetan and Loba identities. In ethnicity, religion, culture, and language, people of Mustang appear to be closer to Tibet than Nepal. This perception is held by most Nepali citizens, both from Mustang and from elsewhere. At the same time, these borderland communities are still Nepali, learning the official language and singing the national anthem each day in school. One day in class at Kag Chode, I was working with the students to practice grouping words that use the same vowel sounds. I created teams, splitting the class in half, and asked what they wanted their team names to be. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Tashi Delek<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Namaste<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe students broke into laughter, pleased with the names they had chosen. <\/p>\n\n\n\nI bring up this moment with the students (this class was ages 10 through 12) because it points to a divide in how Loba people perceive themselves in relation to Nepal. Tashi<\/em> delek<\/em> and namaste<\/em> are Tibetan and Nepali words respectively, and are both used as greetings. The local language in Mustang is Loke, which is closely related to Tibetan. As a result, tashi delek<\/em> is almost always what you hear being tossed around as you walk through the streets. Namaste <\/em>is reserved for foreigners and other Nepalis. While children are taught both Nepali and English in school (in addition to Tibetan language at monastic schools), people primarily still speak in Loke in Kagbeni, rarely switching into Nepali or English unless there is another person around who speaks one of those languages. English, Nepali, and Tibetan music mingle in the streets of Kagbeni, as people play music to accompany the harvest, household chores, or evening downtime. Each language carries a different cadence, mediating spoken interactions between locals and others passing through.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis divide is in part due to the Nepali government\u2019s history of aid (or lack of it) in Mustang, but is also deeply rooted in the cultural identity of Mustang. The heart of this issue comes from the distance that is felt between what it means to be Nepali and what it means to be Tibetan, and finding a place somewhere in between. While giving myself and a Nepali business group from Kathmandu a tour of Kagbeni, Mama explained <\/p>\n\n\n\nUpper Mustang, Lower Mustang, we want to be called Tibetan, but we are not Tibetan. Tibetans are migratory people you know? But because I was born here I can say that I\u2019m Tibetan. Historically we wandered around place to place with the yaks looking for grass.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis points to the\ndivide between how Loba people see themselves and how other Tibetan and Nepali\ngroups see them. My friend explained that even though he is not \u2018Tibetan,\u2019 he\nstill identifies as being Tibetan, and does so proudly. Similar sentiments were\nexpressed to me by other people in Kagbeni. Throughout Kagbeni, and Upper\nMustang to the north, people align themselves more closely with Tibetan culture\nthan Nepali, while still maintaining their Nepali identity as well. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe royal family of Mustang provides a good example of the complicated relationship between Nepali and Tibetan identities. The family is said to be descended from Tibetan kings, yet today holds the surname Bista. This once again traces to the Rana regime and the following Panchayat era, in which \u201cof necessity, the [Loba] colonized themselves\u201d (Thapa 2008: 124). The name Bista comes from high-caste Hindu families originally, and was thus appropriated in order to increase the family\u2019s authority and recognition in the eyes of the Nepali government (Thapa 2008). Other Loba took on surnames in a similar way, often appropriating names of ethnic groups to the south of Mustang. While the Bistas are no longer recognized by the Nepali government today, they still hold social power in the region. One trekking guide who was originally from Lo Manthang told me that part of the reason the local people still respect and listen to the royal family is because \u201cit is past karma,\u201d so the people of Mustang just know to follow them. Whatever the reason, it became clear to me that the Loba put more trust and respect in the royal family of Mustang than the Nepali government.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBeyond language, there are other clear physical markers which point to the Loba being more in line with Tibetan culture. The clothing, buildings, and even the landscape of Upper Mustang all mirror that which is found in Tibet. While my friends from other regions of Nepal frequently spoke of wanting to travel to other regions of the country, the Loba I know in Kagbeni only ever spoke of wishing to visit Tibet. This is not purely for religious reasons, though going to pilgrimage sites such as Manasarovar lake certainly contributes to this desire. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThis closeness to Tibetan culture was further emphasized after 1959, when Mustang became a one of many settlement areas for Tibetan refugees \u201cdue to its close proximity to Tibetan territory, strong kinship and monastic relations with Tibetan populations and social\u2013physical landscape congruent to the Tibetan Plateau\u201d (Murton 2017: 538). Here, it is clear that the association between Mustang and Tibet goes past simply proximity or culture. In popular discourse, however, Mustang is still essentialized as being as close as you can get to \u201cauthentic\u201d Tibetan culture as it was before 1959. This perception is damaging for many reasons, and will be explored more in relation to tourism.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nReshaping Mustang<\/h3>\n\n\n\nMustang, Nepal has been\nshaped both internally and externally by religion and its relationship to\npolitics and culture. Buddhist and Bon structures have physically reshaped the\nlandscape, linking to mythology that maps onto it. These recreations of the\nland go back hundreds of years, to when Guru Rinpoche first came through the\nKali Gandaki in the 8th<\/sup> century. Bon influences on the land go back\neven further. The mingling of Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism has taken on ulterior\nmotives in the last century, however. Due to the governmental policies and lack\nof infrastructure in the region, Loba were pushed to either assimilate and\nbecome more recognizably \u201cNepali\u201d (meaning more Hindu), or leave for better\nopportunities elsewhere. The relationship with Tibet to the north was largely\nhalted as well, with only a trade fair in the summer remaining.<\/p>\n\n\n\nTurning\ntowards the tourism industry, the region is frequently characterized as a\nstronghold of Tibetan culture and religion, preserved by the restriction of the\nregion. Government policies, tourism agencies, and even museums point to\nMustang as being a special place in Nepal because of the presence of Tibetan\nBuddhism and Bon in its valleys. Kagbeni, on the border between Upper and Lower\nMustang, shows us that this popular essentialization of Loba people as purely\nreligious in many ways misinterprets the role of religion in daily life. Yes,\nsignals of Buddhism and Bon and Hinduism abound in the small town, and some\npeople do sit outside in the sun with prayer wheels spinning in their hands,\nbut this misses the complexity of the Kagbeni reality. Lives in Kagbeni are complicated and reshaped\nconstantly by the government, religions, and tourists intersecting within its\nspace. In the following chapter, I turn to look more closely at the impacts of\ntourism in and scholarship about Kagbeni and Upper Mustang.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTourism: Exceptionalism, Pilgrimage, and Romance<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Culture, Landscapes, and Identity Religious LandscapesThe Smell of the CowsTeam Tashi DelekReshaping Mustang Towards the end of my time in Kagbeni, I walked into the lounge area of the hotel I was living at to find Aama laying on one of the benches, reading quietly aloud to herself. Aama is the matriarch of the hotel, … Continue reading Religion<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3090,"featured_media":145,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-8","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3090"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8"}],"version-history":[{"count":18,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":368,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions\/368"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/145"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
People\nleave Mustang for school, better jobs, seasonal work, or other opportunities.\nThey come back for different seasonal work, festivals, or to visit family. Because\nthe winters are harsh in Mustang, many people leave for the season. While a few\nolder community members and children stay behind to keep the town running in\nthe coldest months, the majority of people find work or live elsewhere. The\nentire monastic school, for instance, picks up and moves to Pokhara for a few\nmonths. This seasonal migration is by no means a new phenomenon, and shows that\neven when Mustang was restricted to foreigners, people have always come and\ngone with some frequency. Their claim of being Loba, however, remains with\nthem. People living in Kathmandu identify where they are from or what their\nethnic background is when they talk about their life in the city, and they also\nlabel others in this way. For example, one trekking guide mentioned that he has\n\u201ca lot of Manangi friends.\u201d Manang is the region to the east of Mustang, and\neven if his friends live predominantly in Kathmandu, the guide still identifies\nthem as being from Manang. In the same way, people often refer to a place as\n\u201cmy village,\u201d even when they have lived in Kathmandu for most of their lives.\nAlong the same lines, people who live in Kathmandu almost never say that they\nare form Kathmandu. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Claiming\nthe identity of the village or region your family is from is common throughout\nNepal, and is in many ways related to the caste system and Hinduization in the\nPanchayat era. This is also in part due to the wide diversity of ethnic groups\nand languages in Nepal, and the original formation of the country in the 18th<\/sup>\ncentury as a unified kingdom made up of many smaller, previously distinct\ngroups. While people in Mustang are definitively Nepali, they have a deep\nconnection to their homeland. As with the gompa<\/em>\ndonor now living in Hong Kong, many people want to maintain a connection to the\nregion and support it when they can. In Mustang\nBhot in Fragments<\/em>, Manjushree Thapa tells the story of one man who lived in\nKathmandu many years before returning to Mustang, hoping to improve the area after\ngrowing accustomed to the ways of the city. When asked why he wanted to come\nback and work on developing the area, he responded \u201cthis is home. If we don\u2019t\nimprove it, who will?\u201d (Thapa 2008: 50). This statement not only shows the deep\nconnection that Loba have to their communities, it also implies that other\npeople cannot be counted on to improve life there. After a history of being let\ndown by the Nepali government and other development projects, it makes sense\nthat the community would take it into their own hands to build the road north\nto Tibet, to spur the possibility of more opportunities.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nTeam Tashi Delek<\/em><\/h3>\n\n\n\nUp until this point, there have been occasional points of friction between Nepali and Tibetan and Loba identities. In ethnicity, religion, culture, and language, people of Mustang appear to be closer to Tibet than Nepal. This perception is held by most Nepali citizens, both from Mustang and from elsewhere. At the same time, these borderland communities are still Nepali, learning the official language and singing the national anthem each day in school. One day in class at Kag Chode, I was working with the students to practice grouping words that use the same vowel sounds. I created teams, splitting the class in half, and asked what they wanted their team names to be. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Tashi Delek<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Namaste<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe students broke into laughter, pleased with the names they had chosen. <\/p>\n\n\n\nI bring up this moment with the students (this class was ages 10 through 12) because it points to a divide in how Loba people perceive themselves in relation to Nepal. Tashi<\/em> delek<\/em> and namaste<\/em> are Tibetan and Nepali words respectively, and are both used as greetings. The local language in Mustang is Loke, which is closely related to Tibetan. As a result, tashi delek<\/em> is almost always what you hear being tossed around as you walk through the streets. Namaste <\/em>is reserved for foreigners and other Nepalis. While children are taught both Nepali and English in school (in addition to Tibetan language at monastic schools), people primarily still speak in Loke in Kagbeni, rarely switching into Nepali or English unless there is another person around who speaks one of those languages. English, Nepali, and Tibetan music mingle in the streets of Kagbeni, as people play music to accompany the harvest, household chores, or evening downtime. Each language carries a different cadence, mediating spoken interactions between locals and others passing through.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis divide is in part due to the Nepali government\u2019s history of aid (or lack of it) in Mustang, but is also deeply rooted in the cultural identity of Mustang. The heart of this issue comes from the distance that is felt between what it means to be Nepali and what it means to be Tibetan, and finding a place somewhere in between. While giving myself and a Nepali business group from Kathmandu a tour of Kagbeni, Mama explained <\/p>\n\n\n\nUpper Mustang, Lower Mustang, we want to be called Tibetan, but we are not Tibetan. Tibetans are migratory people you know? But because I was born here I can say that I\u2019m Tibetan. Historically we wandered around place to place with the yaks looking for grass.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis points to the\ndivide between how Loba people see themselves and how other Tibetan and Nepali\ngroups see them. My friend explained that even though he is not \u2018Tibetan,\u2019 he\nstill identifies as being Tibetan, and does so proudly. Similar sentiments were\nexpressed to me by other people in Kagbeni. Throughout Kagbeni, and Upper\nMustang to the north, people align themselves more closely with Tibetan culture\nthan Nepali, while still maintaining their Nepali identity as well. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe royal family of Mustang provides a good example of the complicated relationship between Nepali and Tibetan identities. The family is said to be descended from Tibetan kings, yet today holds the surname Bista. This once again traces to the Rana regime and the following Panchayat era, in which \u201cof necessity, the [Loba] colonized themselves\u201d (Thapa 2008: 124). The name Bista comes from high-caste Hindu families originally, and was thus appropriated in order to increase the family\u2019s authority and recognition in the eyes of the Nepali government (Thapa 2008). Other Loba took on surnames in a similar way, often appropriating names of ethnic groups to the south of Mustang. While the Bistas are no longer recognized by the Nepali government today, they still hold social power in the region. One trekking guide who was originally from Lo Manthang told me that part of the reason the local people still respect and listen to the royal family is because \u201cit is past karma,\u201d so the people of Mustang just know to follow them. Whatever the reason, it became clear to me that the Loba put more trust and respect in the royal family of Mustang than the Nepali government.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBeyond language, there are other clear physical markers which point to the Loba being more in line with Tibetan culture. The clothing, buildings, and even the landscape of Upper Mustang all mirror that which is found in Tibet. While my friends from other regions of Nepal frequently spoke of wanting to travel to other regions of the country, the Loba I know in Kagbeni only ever spoke of wishing to visit Tibet. This is not purely for religious reasons, though going to pilgrimage sites such as Manasarovar lake certainly contributes to this desire. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThis closeness to Tibetan culture was further emphasized after 1959, when Mustang became a one of many settlement areas for Tibetan refugees \u201cdue to its close proximity to Tibetan territory, strong kinship and monastic relations with Tibetan populations and social\u2013physical landscape congruent to the Tibetan Plateau\u201d (Murton 2017: 538). Here, it is clear that the association between Mustang and Tibet goes past simply proximity or culture. In popular discourse, however, Mustang is still essentialized as being as close as you can get to \u201cauthentic\u201d Tibetan culture as it was before 1959. This perception is damaging for many reasons, and will be explored more in relation to tourism.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nReshaping Mustang<\/h3>\n\n\n\nMustang, Nepal has been\nshaped both internally and externally by religion and its relationship to\npolitics and culture. Buddhist and Bon structures have physically reshaped the\nlandscape, linking to mythology that maps onto it. These recreations of the\nland go back hundreds of years, to when Guru Rinpoche first came through the\nKali Gandaki in the 8th<\/sup> century. Bon influences on the land go back\neven further. The mingling of Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism has taken on ulterior\nmotives in the last century, however. Due to the governmental policies and lack\nof infrastructure in the region, Loba were pushed to either assimilate and\nbecome more recognizably \u201cNepali\u201d (meaning more Hindu), or leave for better\nopportunities elsewhere. The relationship with Tibet to the north was largely\nhalted as well, with only a trade fair in the summer remaining.<\/p>\n\n\n\nTurning\ntowards the tourism industry, the region is frequently characterized as a\nstronghold of Tibetan culture and religion, preserved by the restriction of the\nregion. Government policies, tourism agencies, and even museums point to\nMustang as being a special place in Nepal because of the presence of Tibetan\nBuddhism and Bon in its valleys. Kagbeni, on the border between Upper and Lower\nMustang, shows us that this popular essentialization of Loba people as purely\nreligious in many ways misinterprets the role of religion in daily life. Yes,\nsignals of Buddhism and Bon and Hinduism abound in the small town, and some\npeople do sit outside in the sun with prayer wheels spinning in their hands,\nbut this misses the complexity of the Kagbeni reality. Lives in Kagbeni are complicated and reshaped\nconstantly by the government, religions, and tourists intersecting within its\nspace. In the following chapter, I turn to look more closely at the impacts of\ntourism in and scholarship about Kagbeni and Upper Mustang.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTourism: Exceptionalism, Pilgrimage, and Romance<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Culture, Landscapes, and Identity Religious LandscapesThe Smell of the CowsTeam Tashi DelekReshaping Mustang Towards the end of my time in Kagbeni, I walked into the lounge area of the hotel I was living at to find Aama laying on one of the benches, reading quietly aloud to herself. Aama is the matriarch of the hotel, … Continue reading Religion<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3090,"featured_media":145,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-8","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3090"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8"}],"version-history":[{"count":18,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":368,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions\/368"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/145"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
Up until this point, there have been occasional points of friction between Nepali and Tibetan and Loba identities. In ethnicity, religion, culture, and language, people of Mustang appear to be closer to Tibet than Nepal. This perception is held by most Nepali citizens, both from Mustang and from elsewhere. At the same time, these borderland communities are still Nepali, learning the official language and singing the national anthem each day in school. One day in class at Kag Chode, I was working with the students to practice grouping words that use the same vowel sounds. I created teams, splitting the class in half, and asked what they wanted their team names to be. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cTeam Tashi Delek<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cTeam Namaste<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe students broke into laughter, pleased with the names they had chosen. <\/p>\n\n\n\nI bring up this moment with the students (this class was ages 10 through 12) because it points to a divide in how Loba people perceive themselves in relation to Nepal. Tashi<\/em> delek<\/em> and namaste<\/em> are Tibetan and Nepali words respectively, and are both used as greetings. The local language in Mustang is Loke, which is closely related to Tibetan. As a result, tashi delek<\/em> is almost always what you hear being tossed around as you walk through the streets. Namaste <\/em>is reserved for foreigners and other Nepalis. While children are taught both Nepali and English in school (in addition to Tibetan language at monastic schools), people primarily still speak in Loke in Kagbeni, rarely switching into Nepali or English unless there is another person around who speaks one of those languages. English, Nepali, and Tibetan music mingle in the streets of Kagbeni, as people play music to accompany the harvest, household chores, or evening downtime. Each language carries a different cadence, mediating spoken interactions between locals and others passing through.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis divide is in part due to the Nepali government\u2019s history of aid (or lack of it) in Mustang, but is also deeply rooted in the cultural identity of Mustang. The heart of this issue comes from the distance that is felt between what it means to be Nepali and what it means to be Tibetan, and finding a place somewhere in between. While giving myself and a Nepali business group from Kathmandu a tour of Kagbeni, Mama explained <\/p>\n\n\n\nUpper Mustang, Lower Mustang, we want to be called Tibetan, but we are not Tibetan. Tibetans are migratory people you know? But because I was born here I can say that I\u2019m Tibetan. Historically we wandered around place to place with the yaks looking for grass.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis points to the\ndivide between how Loba people see themselves and how other Tibetan and Nepali\ngroups see them. My friend explained that even though he is not \u2018Tibetan,\u2019 he\nstill identifies as being Tibetan, and does so proudly. Similar sentiments were\nexpressed to me by other people in Kagbeni. Throughout Kagbeni, and Upper\nMustang to the north, people align themselves more closely with Tibetan culture\nthan Nepali, while still maintaining their Nepali identity as well. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe royal family of Mustang provides a good example of the complicated relationship between Nepali and Tibetan identities. The family is said to be descended from Tibetan kings, yet today holds the surname Bista. This once again traces to the Rana regime and the following Panchayat era, in which \u201cof necessity, the [Loba] colonized themselves\u201d (Thapa 2008: 124). The name Bista comes from high-caste Hindu families originally, and was thus appropriated in order to increase the family\u2019s authority and recognition in the eyes of the Nepali government (Thapa 2008). Other Loba took on surnames in a similar way, often appropriating names of ethnic groups to the south of Mustang. While the Bistas are no longer recognized by the Nepali government today, they still hold social power in the region. One trekking guide who was originally from Lo Manthang told me that part of the reason the local people still respect and listen to the royal family is because \u201cit is past karma,\u201d so the people of Mustang just know to follow them. Whatever the reason, it became clear to me that the Loba put more trust and respect in the royal family of Mustang than the Nepali government.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBeyond language, there are other clear physical markers which point to the Loba being more in line with Tibetan culture. The clothing, buildings, and even the landscape of Upper Mustang all mirror that which is found in Tibet. While my friends from other regions of Nepal frequently spoke of wanting to travel to other regions of the country, the Loba I know in Kagbeni only ever spoke of wishing to visit Tibet. This is not purely for religious reasons, though going to pilgrimage sites such as Manasarovar lake certainly contributes to this desire. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThis closeness to Tibetan culture was further emphasized after 1959, when Mustang became a one of many settlement areas for Tibetan refugees \u201cdue to its close proximity to Tibetan territory, strong kinship and monastic relations with Tibetan populations and social\u2013physical landscape congruent to the Tibetan Plateau\u201d (Murton 2017: 538). Here, it is clear that the association between Mustang and Tibet goes past simply proximity or culture. In popular discourse, however, Mustang is still essentialized as being as close as you can get to \u201cauthentic\u201d Tibetan culture as it was before 1959. This perception is damaging for many reasons, and will be explored more in relation to tourism.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nReshaping Mustang<\/h3>\n\n\n\nMustang, Nepal has been\nshaped both internally and externally by religion and its relationship to\npolitics and culture. Buddhist and Bon structures have physically reshaped the\nlandscape, linking to mythology that maps onto it. These recreations of the\nland go back hundreds of years, to when Guru Rinpoche first came through the\nKali Gandaki in the 8th<\/sup> century. Bon influences on the land go back\neven further. The mingling of Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism has taken on ulterior\nmotives in the last century, however. Due to the governmental policies and lack\nof infrastructure in the region, Loba were pushed to either assimilate and\nbecome more recognizably \u201cNepali\u201d (meaning more Hindu), or leave for better\nopportunities elsewhere. The relationship with Tibet to the north was largely\nhalted as well, with only a trade fair in the summer remaining.<\/p>\n\n\n\nTurning\ntowards the tourism industry, the region is frequently characterized as a\nstronghold of Tibetan culture and religion, preserved by the restriction of the\nregion. Government policies, tourism agencies, and even museums point to\nMustang as being a special place in Nepal because of the presence of Tibetan\nBuddhism and Bon in its valleys. Kagbeni, on the border between Upper and Lower\nMustang, shows us that this popular essentialization of Loba people as purely\nreligious in many ways misinterprets the role of religion in daily life. Yes,\nsignals of Buddhism and Bon and Hinduism abound in the small town, and some\npeople do sit outside in the sun with prayer wheels spinning in their hands,\nbut this misses the complexity of the Kagbeni reality. Lives in Kagbeni are complicated and reshaped\nconstantly by the government, religions, and tourists intersecting within its\nspace. In the following chapter, I turn to look more closely at the impacts of\ntourism in and scholarship about Kagbeni and Upper Mustang.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTourism: Exceptionalism, Pilgrimage, and Romance<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Culture, Landscapes, and Identity Religious LandscapesThe Smell of the CowsTeam Tashi DelekReshaping Mustang Towards the end of my time in Kagbeni, I walked into the lounge area of the hotel I was living at to find Aama laying on one of the benches, reading quietly aloud to herself. Aama is the matriarch of the hotel, … Continue reading Religion<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3090,"featured_media":145,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-8","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3090"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8"}],"version-history":[{"count":18,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":368,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions\/368"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/145"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\u201cTeam Namaste<\/em>!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe students broke into laughter, pleased with the names they had chosen. <\/p>\n\n\n\nI bring up this moment with the students (this class was ages 10 through 12) because it points to a divide in how Loba people perceive themselves in relation to Nepal. Tashi<\/em> delek<\/em> and namaste<\/em> are Tibetan and Nepali words respectively, and are both used as greetings. The local language in Mustang is Loke, which is closely related to Tibetan. As a result, tashi delek<\/em> is almost always what you hear being tossed around as you walk through the streets. Namaste <\/em>is reserved for foreigners and other Nepalis. While children are taught both Nepali and English in school (in addition to Tibetan language at monastic schools), people primarily still speak in Loke in Kagbeni, rarely switching into Nepali or English unless there is another person around who speaks one of those languages. English, Nepali, and Tibetan music mingle in the streets of Kagbeni, as people play music to accompany the harvest, household chores, or evening downtime. Each language carries a different cadence, mediating spoken interactions between locals and others passing through.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis divide is in part due to the Nepali government\u2019s history of aid (or lack of it) in Mustang, but is also deeply rooted in the cultural identity of Mustang. The heart of this issue comes from the distance that is felt between what it means to be Nepali and what it means to be Tibetan, and finding a place somewhere in between. While giving myself and a Nepali business group from Kathmandu a tour of Kagbeni, Mama explained <\/p>\n\n\n\nUpper Mustang, Lower Mustang, we want to be called Tibetan, but we are not Tibetan. Tibetans are migratory people you know? But because I was born here I can say that I\u2019m Tibetan. Historically we wandered around place to place with the yaks looking for grass.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis points to the\ndivide between how Loba people see themselves and how other Tibetan and Nepali\ngroups see them. My friend explained that even though he is not \u2018Tibetan,\u2019 he\nstill identifies as being Tibetan, and does so proudly. Similar sentiments were\nexpressed to me by other people in Kagbeni. Throughout Kagbeni, and Upper\nMustang to the north, people align themselves more closely with Tibetan culture\nthan Nepali, while still maintaining their Nepali identity as well. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe royal family of Mustang provides a good example of the complicated relationship between Nepali and Tibetan identities. The family is said to be descended from Tibetan kings, yet today holds the surname Bista. This once again traces to the Rana regime and the following Panchayat era, in which \u201cof necessity, the [Loba] colonized themselves\u201d (Thapa 2008: 124). The name Bista comes from high-caste Hindu families originally, and was thus appropriated in order to increase the family\u2019s authority and recognition in the eyes of the Nepali government (Thapa 2008). Other Loba took on surnames in a similar way, often appropriating names of ethnic groups to the south of Mustang. While the Bistas are no longer recognized by the Nepali government today, they still hold social power in the region. One trekking guide who was originally from Lo Manthang told me that part of the reason the local people still respect and listen to the royal family is because \u201cit is past karma,\u201d so the people of Mustang just know to follow them. Whatever the reason, it became clear to me that the Loba put more trust and respect in the royal family of Mustang than the Nepali government.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBeyond language, there are other clear physical markers which point to the Loba being more in line with Tibetan culture. The clothing, buildings, and even the landscape of Upper Mustang all mirror that which is found in Tibet. While my friends from other regions of Nepal frequently spoke of wanting to travel to other regions of the country, the Loba I know in Kagbeni only ever spoke of wishing to visit Tibet. This is not purely for religious reasons, though going to pilgrimage sites such as Manasarovar lake certainly contributes to this desire. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThis closeness to Tibetan culture was further emphasized after 1959, when Mustang became a one of many settlement areas for Tibetan refugees \u201cdue to its close proximity to Tibetan territory, strong kinship and monastic relations with Tibetan populations and social\u2013physical landscape congruent to the Tibetan Plateau\u201d (Murton 2017: 538). Here, it is clear that the association between Mustang and Tibet goes past simply proximity or culture. In popular discourse, however, Mustang is still essentialized as being as close as you can get to \u201cauthentic\u201d Tibetan culture as it was before 1959. This perception is damaging for many reasons, and will be explored more in relation to tourism.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nReshaping Mustang<\/h3>\n\n\n\nMustang, Nepal has been\nshaped both internally and externally by religion and its relationship to\npolitics and culture. Buddhist and Bon structures have physically reshaped the\nlandscape, linking to mythology that maps onto it. These recreations of the\nland go back hundreds of years, to when Guru Rinpoche first came through the\nKali Gandaki in the 8th<\/sup> century. Bon influences on the land go back\neven further. The mingling of Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism has taken on ulterior\nmotives in the last century, however. Due to the governmental policies and lack\nof infrastructure in the region, Loba were pushed to either assimilate and\nbecome more recognizably \u201cNepali\u201d (meaning more Hindu), or leave for better\nopportunities elsewhere. The relationship with Tibet to the north was largely\nhalted as well, with only a trade fair in the summer remaining.<\/p>\n\n\n\nTurning\ntowards the tourism industry, the region is frequently characterized as a\nstronghold of Tibetan culture and religion, preserved by the restriction of the\nregion. Government policies, tourism agencies, and even museums point to\nMustang as being a special place in Nepal because of the presence of Tibetan\nBuddhism and Bon in its valleys. Kagbeni, on the border between Upper and Lower\nMustang, shows us that this popular essentialization of Loba people as purely\nreligious in many ways misinterprets the role of religion in daily life. Yes,\nsignals of Buddhism and Bon and Hinduism abound in the small town, and some\npeople do sit outside in the sun with prayer wheels spinning in their hands,\nbut this misses the complexity of the Kagbeni reality. Lives in Kagbeni are complicated and reshaped\nconstantly by the government, religions, and tourists intersecting within its\nspace. In the following chapter, I turn to look more closely at the impacts of\ntourism in and scholarship about Kagbeni and Upper Mustang.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTourism: Exceptionalism, Pilgrimage, and Romance<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Culture, Landscapes, and Identity Religious LandscapesThe Smell of the CowsTeam Tashi DelekReshaping Mustang Towards the end of my time in Kagbeni, I walked into the lounge area of the hotel I was living at to find Aama laying on one of the benches, reading quietly aloud to herself. Aama is the matriarch of the hotel, … Continue reading Religion<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3090,"featured_media":145,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-8","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3090"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8"}],"version-history":[{"count":18,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":368,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions\/368"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/145"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
The students broke into laughter, pleased with the names they had chosen. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I bring up this moment with the students (this class was ages 10 through 12) because it points to a divide in how Loba people perceive themselves in relation to Nepal. Tashi<\/em> delek<\/em> and namaste<\/em> are Tibetan and Nepali words respectively, and are both used as greetings. The local language in Mustang is Loke, which is closely related to Tibetan. As a result, tashi delek<\/em> is almost always what you hear being tossed around as you walk through the streets. Namaste <\/em>is reserved for foreigners and other Nepalis. While children are taught both Nepali and English in school (in addition to Tibetan language at monastic schools), people primarily still speak in Loke in Kagbeni, rarely switching into Nepali or English unless there is another person around who speaks one of those languages. English, Nepali, and Tibetan music mingle in the streets of Kagbeni, as people play music to accompany the harvest, household chores, or evening downtime. Each language carries a different cadence, mediating spoken interactions between locals and others passing through.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis divide is in part due to the Nepali government\u2019s history of aid (or lack of it) in Mustang, but is also deeply rooted in the cultural identity of Mustang. The heart of this issue comes from the distance that is felt between what it means to be Nepali and what it means to be Tibetan, and finding a place somewhere in between. While giving myself and a Nepali business group from Kathmandu a tour of Kagbeni, Mama explained <\/p>\n\n\n\nUpper Mustang, Lower Mustang, we want to be called Tibetan, but we are not Tibetan. Tibetans are migratory people you know? But because I was born here I can say that I\u2019m Tibetan. Historically we wandered around place to place with the yaks looking for grass.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis points to the\ndivide between how Loba people see themselves and how other Tibetan and Nepali\ngroups see them. My friend explained that even though he is not \u2018Tibetan,\u2019 he\nstill identifies as being Tibetan, and does so proudly. Similar sentiments were\nexpressed to me by other people in Kagbeni. Throughout Kagbeni, and Upper\nMustang to the north, people align themselves more closely with Tibetan culture\nthan Nepali, while still maintaining their Nepali identity as well. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe royal family of Mustang provides a good example of the complicated relationship between Nepali and Tibetan identities. The family is said to be descended from Tibetan kings, yet today holds the surname Bista. This once again traces to the Rana regime and the following Panchayat era, in which \u201cof necessity, the [Loba] colonized themselves\u201d (Thapa 2008: 124). The name Bista comes from high-caste Hindu families originally, and was thus appropriated in order to increase the family\u2019s authority and recognition in the eyes of the Nepali government (Thapa 2008). Other Loba took on surnames in a similar way, often appropriating names of ethnic groups to the south of Mustang. While the Bistas are no longer recognized by the Nepali government today, they still hold social power in the region. One trekking guide who was originally from Lo Manthang told me that part of the reason the local people still respect and listen to the royal family is because \u201cit is past karma,\u201d so the people of Mustang just know to follow them. Whatever the reason, it became clear to me that the Loba put more trust and respect in the royal family of Mustang than the Nepali government.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBeyond language, there are other clear physical markers which point to the Loba being more in line with Tibetan culture. The clothing, buildings, and even the landscape of Upper Mustang all mirror that which is found in Tibet. While my friends from other regions of Nepal frequently spoke of wanting to travel to other regions of the country, the Loba I know in Kagbeni only ever spoke of wishing to visit Tibet. This is not purely for religious reasons, though going to pilgrimage sites such as Manasarovar lake certainly contributes to this desire. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThis closeness to Tibetan culture was further emphasized after 1959, when Mustang became a one of many settlement areas for Tibetan refugees \u201cdue to its close proximity to Tibetan territory, strong kinship and monastic relations with Tibetan populations and social\u2013physical landscape congruent to the Tibetan Plateau\u201d (Murton 2017: 538). Here, it is clear that the association between Mustang and Tibet goes past simply proximity or culture. In popular discourse, however, Mustang is still essentialized as being as close as you can get to \u201cauthentic\u201d Tibetan culture as it was before 1959. This perception is damaging for many reasons, and will be explored more in relation to tourism.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nReshaping Mustang<\/h3>\n\n\n\nMustang, Nepal has been\nshaped both internally and externally by religion and its relationship to\npolitics and culture. Buddhist and Bon structures have physically reshaped the\nlandscape, linking to mythology that maps onto it. These recreations of the\nland go back hundreds of years, to when Guru Rinpoche first came through the\nKali Gandaki in the 8th<\/sup> century. Bon influences on the land go back\neven further. The mingling of Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism has taken on ulterior\nmotives in the last century, however. Due to the governmental policies and lack\nof infrastructure in the region, Loba were pushed to either assimilate and\nbecome more recognizably \u201cNepali\u201d (meaning more Hindu), or leave for better\nopportunities elsewhere. The relationship with Tibet to the north was largely\nhalted as well, with only a trade fair in the summer remaining.<\/p>\n\n\n\nTurning\ntowards the tourism industry, the region is frequently characterized as a\nstronghold of Tibetan culture and religion, preserved by the restriction of the\nregion. Government policies, tourism agencies, and even museums point to\nMustang as being a special place in Nepal because of the presence of Tibetan\nBuddhism and Bon in its valleys. Kagbeni, on the border between Upper and Lower\nMustang, shows us that this popular essentialization of Loba people as purely\nreligious in many ways misinterprets the role of religion in daily life. Yes,\nsignals of Buddhism and Bon and Hinduism abound in the small town, and some\npeople do sit outside in the sun with prayer wheels spinning in their hands,\nbut this misses the complexity of the Kagbeni reality. Lives in Kagbeni are complicated and reshaped\nconstantly by the government, religions, and tourists intersecting within its\nspace. In the following chapter, I turn to look more closely at the impacts of\ntourism in and scholarship about Kagbeni and Upper Mustang.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTourism: Exceptionalism, Pilgrimage, and Romance<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Culture, Landscapes, and Identity Religious LandscapesThe Smell of the CowsTeam Tashi DelekReshaping Mustang Towards the end of my time in Kagbeni, I walked into the lounge area of the hotel I was living at to find Aama laying on one of the benches, reading quietly aloud to herself. Aama is the matriarch of the hotel, … Continue reading Religion<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3090,"featured_media":145,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-8","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3090"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8"}],"version-history":[{"count":18,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":368,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions\/368"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/145"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
This divide is in part due to the Nepali government\u2019s history of aid (or lack of it) in Mustang, but is also deeply rooted in the cultural identity of Mustang. The heart of this issue comes from the distance that is felt between what it means to be Nepali and what it means to be Tibetan, and finding a place somewhere in between. While giving myself and a Nepali business group from Kathmandu a tour of Kagbeni, Mama explained <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Upper Mustang, Lower Mustang, we want to be called Tibetan, but we are not Tibetan. Tibetans are migratory people you know? But because I was born here I can say that I\u2019m Tibetan. Historically we wandered around place to place with the yaks looking for grass.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\nThis points to the\ndivide between how Loba people see themselves and how other Tibetan and Nepali\ngroups see them. My friend explained that even though he is not \u2018Tibetan,\u2019 he\nstill identifies as being Tibetan, and does so proudly. Similar sentiments were\nexpressed to me by other people in Kagbeni. Throughout Kagbeni, and Upper\nMustang to the north, people align themselves more closely with Tibetan culture\nthan Nepali, while still maintaining their Nepali identity as well. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThe royal family of Mustang provides a good example of the complicated relationship between Nepali and Tibetan identities. The family is said to be descended from Tibetan kings, yet today holds the surname Bista. This once again traces to the Rana regime and the following Panchayat era, in which \u201cof necessity, the [Loba] colonized themselves\u201d (Thapa 2008: 124). The name Bista comes from high-caste Hindu families originally, and was thus appropriated in order to increase the family\u2019s authority and recognition in the eyes of the Nepali government (Thapa 2008). Other Loba took on surnames in a similar way, often appropriating names of ethnic groups to the south of Mustang. While the Bistas are no longer recognized by the Nepali government today, they still hold social power in the region. One trekking guide who was originally from Lo Manthang told me that part of the reason the local people still respect and listen to the royal family is because \u201cit is past karma,\u201d so the people of Mustang just know to follow them. Whatever the reason, it became clear to me that the Loba put more trust and respect in the royal family of Mustang than the Nepali government.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBeyond language, there are other clear physical markers which point to the Loba being more in line with Tibetan culture. The clothing, buildings, and even the landscape of Upper Mustang all mirror that which is found in Tibet. While my friends from other regions of Nepal frequently spoke of wanting to travel to other regions of the country, the Loba I know in Kagbeni only ever spoke of wishing to visit Tibet. This is not purely for religious reasons, though going to pilgrimage sites such as Manasarovar lake certainly contributes to this desire. <\/p>\n\n\n\nThis closeness to Tibetan culture was further emphasized after 1959, when Mustang became a one of many settlement areas for Tibetan refugees \u201cdue to its close proximity to Tibetan territory, strong kinship and monastic relations with Tibetan populations and social\u2013physical landscape congruent to the Tibetan Plateau\u201d (Murton 2017: 538). Here, it is clear that the association between Mustang and Tibet goes past simply proximity or culture. In popular discourse, however, Mustang is still essentialized as being as close as you can get to \u201cauthentic\u201d Tibetan culture as it was before 1959. This perception is damaging for many reasons, and will be explored more in relation to tourism.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\nReshaping Mustang<\/h3>\n\n\n\nMustang, Nepal has been\nshaped both internally and externally by religion and its relationship to\npolitics and culture. Buddhist and Bon structures have physically reshaped the\nlandscape, linking to mythology that maps onto it. These recreations of the\nland go back hundreds of years, to when Guru Rinpoche first came through the\nKali Gandaki in the 8th<\/sup> century. Bon influences on the land go back\neven further. The mingling of Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism has taken on ulterior\nmotives in the last century, however. Due to the governmental policies and lack\nof infrastructure in the region, Loba were pushed to either assimilate and\nbecome more recognizably \u201cNepali\u201d (meaning more Hindu), or leave for better\nopportunities elsewhere. The relationship with Tibet to the north was largely\nhalted as well, with only a trade fair in the summer remaining.<\/p>\n\n\n\nTurning\ntowards the tourism industry, the region is frequently characterized as a\nstronghold of Tibetan culture and religion, preserved by the restriction of the\nregion. Government policies, tourism agencies, and even museums point to\nMustang as being a special place in Nepal because of the presence of Tibetan\nBuddhism and Bon in its valleys. Kagbeni, on the border between Upper and Lower\nMustang, shows us that this popular essentialization of Loba people as purely\nreligious in many ways misinterprets the role of religion in daily life. Yes,\nsignals of Buddhism and Bon and Hinduism abound in the small town, and some\npeople do sit outside in the sun with prayer wheels spinning in their hands,\nbut this misses the complexity of the Kagbeni reality. Lives in Kagbeni are complicated and reshaped\nconstantly by the government, religions, and tourists intersecting within its\nspace. In the following chapter, I turn to look more closely at the impacts of\ntourism in and scholarship about Kagbeni and Upper Mustang.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTourism: Exceptionalism, Pilgrimage, and Romance<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Culture, Landscapes, and Identity Religious LandscapesThe Smell of the CowsTeam Tashi DelekReshaping Mustang Towards the end of my time in Kagbeni, I walked into the lounge area of the hotel I was living at to find Aama laying on one of the benches, reading quietly aloud to herself. Aama is the matriarch of the hotel, … Continue reading Religion<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3090,"featured_media":145,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-8","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3090"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8"}],"version-history":[{"count":18,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":368,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions\/368"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/145"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
Upper Mustang, Lower Mustang, we want to be called Tibetan, but we are not Tibetan. Tibetans are migratory people you know? But because I was born here I can say that I\u2019m Tibetan. Historically we wandered around place to place with the yaks looking for grass.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n
This points to the\ndivide between how Loba people see themselves and how other Tibetan and Nepali\ngroups see them. My friend explained that even though he is not \u2018Tibetan,\u2019 he\nstill identifies as being Tibetan, and does so proudly. Similar sentiments were\nexpressed to me by other people in Kagbeni. Throughout Kagbeni, and Upper\nMustang to the north, people align themselves more closely with Tibetan culture\nthan Nepali, while still maintaining their Nepali identity as well. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The royal family of Mustang provides a good example of the complicated relationship between Nepali and Tibetan identities. The family is said to be descended from Tibetan kings, yet today holds the surname Bista. This once again traces to the Rana regime and the following Panchayat era, in which \u201cof necessity, the [Loba] colonized themselves\u201d (Thapa 2008: 124). The name Bista comes from high-caste Hindu families originally, and was thus appropriated in order to increase the family\u2019s authority and recognition in the eyes of the Nepali government (Thapa 2008). Other Loba took on surnames in a similar way, often appropriating names of ethnic groups to the south of Mustang. While the Bistas are no longer recognized by the Nepali government today, they still hold social power in the region. One trekking guide who was originally from Lo Manthang told me that part of the reason the local people still respect and listen to the royal family is because \u201cit is past karma,\u201d so the people of Mustang just know to follow them. Whatever the reason, it became clear to me that the Loba put more trust and respect in the royal family of Mustang than the Nepali government.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Beyond language, there are other clear physical markers which point to the Loba being more in line with Tibetan culture. The clothing, buildings, and even the landscape of Upper Mustang all mirror that which is found in Tibet. While my friends from other regions of Nepal frequently spoke of wanting to travel to other regions of the country, the Loba I know in Kagbeni only ever spoke of wishing to visit Tibet. This is not purely for religious reasons, though going to pilgrimage sites such as Manasarovar lake certainly contributes to this desire. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
This closeness to Tibetan culture was further emphasized after 1959, when Mustang became a one of many settlement areas for Tibetan refugees \u201cdue to its close proximity to Tibetan territory, strong kinship and monastic relations with Tibetan populations and social\u2013physical landscape congruent to the Tibetan Plateau\u201d (Murton 2017: 538). Here, it is clear that the association between Mustang and Tibet goes past simply proximity or culture. In popular discourse, however, Mustang is still essentialized as being as close as you can get to \u201cauthentic\u201d Tibetan culture as it was before 1959. This perception is damaging for many reasons, and will be explored more in relation to tourism.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mustang, Nepal has been\nshaped both internally and externally by religion and its relationship to\npolitics and culture. Buddhist and Bon structures have physically reshaped the\nlandscape, linking to mythology that maps onto it. These recreations of the\nland go back hundreds of years, to when Guru Rinpoche first came through the\nKali Gandaki in the 8th<\/sup> century. Bon influences on the land go back\neven further. The mingling of Buddhism, Bon, and Hinduism has taken on ulterior\nmotives in the last century, however. Due to the governmental policies and lack\nof infrastructure in the region, Loba were pushed to either assimilate and\nbecome more recognizably \u201cNepali\u201d (meaning more Hindu), or leave for better\nopportunities elsewhere. The relationship with Tibet to the north was largely\nhalted as well, with only a trade fair in the summer remaining.<\/p>\n\n\n\nTurning\ntowards the tourism industry, the region is frequently characterized as a\nstronghold of Tibetan culture and religion, preserved by the restriction of the\nregion. Government policies, tourism agencies, and even museums point to\nMustang as being a special place in Nepal because of the presence of Tibetan\nBuddhism and Bon in its valleys. Kagbeni, on the border between Upper and Lower\nMustang, shows us that this popular essentialization of Loba people as purely\nreligious in many ways misinterprets the role of religion in daily life. Yes,\nsignals of Buddhism and Bon and Hinduism abound in the small town, and some\npeople do sit outside in the sun with prayer wheels spinning in their hands,\nbut this misses the complexity of the Kagbeni reality. Lives in Kagbeni are complicated and reshaped\nconstantly by the government, religions, and tourists intersecting within its\nspace. In the following chapter, I turn to look more closely at the impacts of\ntourism in and scholarship about Kagbeni and Upper Mustang.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBack to top<\/a><\/div>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTourism: Exceptionalism, Pilgrimage, and Romance<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Culture, Landscapes, and Identity Religious LandscapesThe Smell of the CowsTeam Tashi DelekReshaping Mustang Towards the end of my time in Kagbeni, I walked into the lounge area of the hotel I was living at to find Aama laying on one of the benches, reading quietly aloud to herself. Aama is the matriarch of the hotel, … Continue reading Religion<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3090,"featured_media":145,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-8","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3090"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8"}],"version-history":[{"count":18,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":368,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions\/368"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/145"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
Turning\ntowards the tourism industry, the region is frequently characterized as a\nstronghold of Tibetan culture and religion, preserved by the restriction of the\nregion. Government policies, tourism agencies, and even museums point to\nMustang as being a special place in Nepal because of the presence of Tibetan\nBuddhism and Bon in its valleys. Kagbeni, on the border between Upper and Lower\nMustang, shows us that this popular essentialization of Loba people as purely\nreligious in many ways misinterprets the role of religion in daily life. Yes,\nsignals of Buddhism and Bon and Hinduism abound in the small town, and some\npeople do sit outside in the sun with prayer wheels spinning in their hands,\nbut this misses the complexity of the Kagbeni reality. Lives in Kagbeni are complicated and reshaped\nconstantly by the government, religions, and tourists intersecting within its\nspace. In the following chapter, I turn to look more closely at the impacts of\ntourism in and scholarship about Kagbeni and Upper Mustang.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Tourism: Exceptionalism, Pilgrimage, and Romance<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Culture, Landscapes, and Identity Religious LandscapesThe Smell of the CowsTeam Tashi DelekReshaping Mustang Towards the end of my time in Kagbeni, I walked into the lounge area of the hotel I was living at to find Aama laying on one of the benches, reading quietly aloud to herself. Aama is the matriarch of the hotel, … Continue reading Religion<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3090,"featured_media":145,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-8","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3090"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8"}],"version-history":[{"count":18,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":368,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions\/368"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/145"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
Culture, Landscapes, and Identity Religious LandscapesThe Smell of the CowsTeam Tashi DelekReshaping Mustang Towards the end of my time in Kagbeni, I walked into the lounge area of the hotel I was living at to find Aama laying on one of the benches, reading quietly aloud to herself. Aama is the matriarch of the hotel, … Continue reading Religion<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3090,"featured_media":145,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-8","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3090"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8"}],"version-history":[{"count":18,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":368,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8\/revisions\/368"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/145"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.uvm.edu\/aclawson-thesis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}