Ladakh Festival

Luring the tourist 

Zubair A Dar

Leh: Two round metallic plates of Baikul, an ethnic musical instrument, join by a clap and create a vibration that flows to every corner of Spituk Monastery’s Chamra (square courtyard) on a barren hill top in Leh. The bell has already announced the beginning of a performance, calling for the attention of the audience – mostly foreign tourists – who sit on the ladders descending to the Chamra, line the edges and even occupy the small canopy that covers part of the courtyard and fences the descending slope of the hill. A Nalchak (stick) strikes the Nal (Ladakhi drum) and the beat soon synchronizes with the vibrating rhythm of the Dungches . Tungchen, a five feet long pipe now comes alive. 
Four dancers appear from the gallery on top of the stairs. All eyes fix at the performers as they descend into the square. Their colourful Chamgos dress and a mask covering the face and head sets them out in the distinct landscape of this cold desert. A cluster of photographers encircle them for close-ups. The orchestrated descend leads the dancers to the Chamra, where they perform Chams – a spiritual dance based on the theme of the destruction of the evil. 
“The performance of the dance will develop courage and dignity besides keeping the performers away from evil,” a background announcement by a woman about the dance informs. It also warns against clapping for the performance as the dance is spiritual and not just entertaining. “It helps the performers kill three inner evils,” the announcer adds. 
Chams is the main attraction of the two week long festival sponsored by the Jammu and Kashmir Tourism Department to showcase the culture of the Himalayan region. But the spiritual dance is not the only activity to look out for during the festival days. There are pageantry cultural troops in colourful costumes that march through the markets in the evenings. There are music concerts, a polo tournament, camel safaris, archery competitions, river rafting and cultural song and dance performances at different places in and around the town- each forming an important part of the extravaganza called the Ladakh Festival.  
“The main aim of the festival is to lengthen the tourist season by two more months. The season earlier lasted only till august,” says Chief Executive Councilor and Chairman of the Ladakh Autonomous Hill Development Council (Leh), Chering Dorjay. And the addition to the Ladakh’s rich tourist potential has yielded good results. “Only this year, more than 60,000 tourists have visited Leh and we expect the figure to cross 70,000. It is a record,” says Nisar Hussain, an officer in Tourism Department in Leh. “Last year, we received 51,000 tourists,” he adds. 
The festival is not just another cultural show. It is journey through Ladakh’s Buddhist past and its culture that is scattered on several thousand square kilometers across a barren land dotted by small villages and a few towns. Knowing well what touches the weakest nerve of an ancient culture seeking tourist, the festival travels to monasteries, auditoriums, river valleys and villages. 
“Having the dances at monasteries makes it historically rich. It is better than watching the dances at auditoriums,” says Nicole Miller, who is travelling India along with her husband, Luke Miller. “The festival was mentioned in the guide book. We watched a lot of it even in rain,” she adds. 
The two sit glued to the square compound where the Chams is performed. As each group of dancers appears from the balcony, Luke keenly awaits with his camera for a click to save the moment for posterity. 
Chams begins with a dance by Hashank (teacher) and Hutuk (disciples). Hashank, in Buddhist philosophy is the sponsor for 16 Arahads that spread Buddhism. Following a particular theme, it ends with the Shawa (deer) dance in celebration of the animal which is very harmless in nature and thus connects the philosophy of life with the nature of the animal. In one of the sequences, the dancers wear masks with tongues protruding out. From the mouth, parts of body like legs and head appear. “There is no visible form of the inner evil. The parts depict the killing of that evil,” the announcer told us. 
In the evening, the festival moves to Leh’s main market. Groups of dancers appear from behind the crowd and enter the small space left for them by the jostling onlookers. They dance to the tune of the drums as hundreds of cameras click for photos – the performance resembling a fashion parade in some metropolis. Among the performers is Dadul Skarhe, an archer whose photo appears on the brochure of the Ladakh Festival. Dressed in printed yellow robes and armed with a sword, a bow and arrows, he sings with others as he marches through the market with co-performers in two rows along with hundreds of spectators. 
“I learned archery from my elders when I was a kid,” says Skarhe, a contractor by profession and now awarded by the Archery Association of Ladakh. He performs a story of the legendry king Kesar and his queen.
There are Ghazal dancers, a form of song and music that came to Ladakh from Baltistan. The drums and pipes in the background bring the audience alive. As each group finishes, a new one with a different cultural dress makes its entry. One that is most sought after by the tourists is the group of Brokpas from Aryan. The four women include Yangchen Lamo from Garkhon village of Aryans. She can not speak, but her expressions and beauty attracts most of the flash lights. 
Amid this nostalgia, however, the charm of the polo in Leh is not lost. At the finals of the polo tournament, thousands of spectators gather. “In a town with a population of 25,000 only, the gathering is unprecedented,” a tourism official says. Such is the interest shown by the population that the Chief Executive Councilor of Leh joined the concluding dance at the closing ceremony along with tourists and locals, much to the amusement of the audience.