Kharu -> Leh – Pralines, Potatoes and Procession
20. – 26. June 2026
The plan was: Tsering Dolma would take me back to my place, then head off to some family celebrations, and finally pick up her daughter to take her home. The reality was: the Vice President of India was visiting, and the highway was closed off for him. This meant taking detours, which were completely gridlocked because some of the lanes were so narrow that cars and trucks ended up in a massive tangle. It ended up taking us about 3 hours to cover just 35 km…
We ended up changing the plan. The family celebration was canceled, and we went to check out one of the best hotels in Leh. Tsering Dolma was very curious about it too. There are only 7 cottages, and everything is built in the style of the owner’s grandmother’s era—but blended, of course, with the finest amenities. It actually turned out beautiful, and the staff were really nice too.
We ate somewhere else, though. It’s starting to become my “regular spot” there—this was actually my third time visiting. Isn’t that lemon decor just lovely?
I could have stayed in Karu even longer, but I had an appointment for the following day. I walked to the Sankar Gompa with Susanne. I absolutely need to check which routes are still accessible, which places can be visited, and what else there is to do. Actually, I wanted to visit some museums and initiatives, but they were all closed on Sunday. The Sankar Gompa was closed too, and when a monk finally showed his face after quite a while, he didn’t want to unlock it, saying it wouldn’t open until evening.
But a nice group of people came in, whipped out their sketchpads, and started drawing away. Their teacher was from Bangalore, I think, had worked in urban planning in Berlin for a few years, and spoke good German. And another young man was from the Changthang and told us a few things about his impressive sister, among other topics. I really hope I can visit her! It’s all about the future of the cashmere goats.
We also visited the highly recommended “Schokomonk”. The owner is actually from Bangalore, has an absolutely charming aura—and makes the most delicious chocolates! Mine was made with tsampa flour, which sounds a bit strange at first, but tastes totally delicious.
My back was feeling quite good again, and I started making plans! I’m mainly aiming for a trek starting on June 27th. But before that, I absolutely wanted to get the opinion of Sonam,-Physio. Luckily, she had time for me. And she even let me take her picture!
She palpated, bent, and nudged me around, and I was treated to the machine, patches, and heat once more—along with the recommendation to use a back support brace for hiking. But basically, there’s nothing stopping me from heading out again soon. So, I went ahead and bought this thing:
And since the lunchtime rush at the office was already over, I ate right there on the spot—one of my classic travel meals that I just have to indulge in every now and then: fries, a Coke, and a lassi.
By the way, the weather is very modest—pretty cool (I was wearing a wool sweater), hardly any sun (though when it does break through, it really stings), and sometimes a bit of rain too. It’s actually been like this pretty much the whole of June. Looking up at those mountains of clouds, I wasn’t even all that sad about the trekking delay.
Not much happened these days. I just hung around on my laptop, went for short walks, looked into what else I could do, got annoyed at how much trekking horses cost nowadays, ate lunch at the office, and so on.
Things only got exciting again on the 26th. Muharram has been going on for a few days now, and the 10th day brings the grand Ashura procession. Ashura is only observed by Shia Muslims, who are fewer in number in Ladakh compared to Sunnis. But there turned out to be quite a lot of them. This is their mosque:
At the heart of it is the commemoration of the Battle of Karbala in 680. Following the death of his brother, Husain ibn Ali refused to pledge allegiance to the new ruler, believing him to be corrupt and acting against Islamic principles. Along with a small band of followers (including families), he set off for Kufa, where others had promised him support. But he never arrived. Near Karbala, his people were intercepted and surrounded by an overwhelming force. They were denied water for days, and when they were completely exhausted, the enemy attacked; all the men were killed (Husain was beheaded), and the women and children were taken captive.
This event divided Muslims into Shias and Sunnis—for the former, he was a hero who absolutely had to be revered. And so, on this day, a procession is held with mourning chants where people beat their chests. Only the men, of course.
I ran into Chorol at the main first-aid station. She is a pharmacist, but also has broader medical knowledge, and she had to work.
Why is she all wrapped up like that? And who is expected here? That is exactly why I was there too – I’m just too curious and wanted to see it for myself. You see, some of the men scourge themselves until they bleed, and then they don’t feel too well. And although all the Ladakhis I told about my plans to go waved their hands in horror and said it was completely gruesome, I had an inner urge to want to see it. I suspected that I would feel sensationalist and voyeuristic – and yet I “had” to look for myself, to sense what I now feel and think about it. Or rather, religions and religious people confuse me anyway, but they also fascinate me because they are truly so completely different from how I could ever imagine myself being.
So I watched, filmed, and snapped pictures (just watching doesn’t work for me; when taking pictures or filming, I get closer and take a closer look).
These self-floggings took place mainly near the first-aid station, and rightly so, because it felt like half of them collapsed and needed medical attention. The head seems to be target number one. Some of them appeared completely ecstatic, spaced out, and resistant to treatment. The medics certainly had their hands full the entire time—and some people were loaded into ambulances and driven to the hospital.
In between, there were very, very many who just sang, raised their arms, and beat their chests. On one hand fascinating, but on the other, I was quietly shaking my head quite a bit. The Shia community itself doesn’t seem to look upon this all that favorably anymore either, and is urging people to donate blood in an organized way instead of just letting it flow down. But that doesn’t stop some of them.
By the way, being a woman, being up close, and taking photos didn’t seem to be a problem at all; I was completely ignored or occasionally offered water. I was actually about to leave, but then I just couldn’t resist capturing a few more images.
My conclusion: faith is truly very foreign to me, yet it’s a fascinating phenomenon, though it also makes me reflect a lot on myself. Neither way really feels “right” to me: going there and getting as close as possible—or staying away and essentially ignoring it.
So, I’m glad I watched it—but I probably don’t need to do it again.
There were women too, but they didn’t march in the procession and were probably over by the mosque. I was relatively far away from it and didn’t check it out.
A nice contrast to the trekking trip planned for the next day…..