Leh – Odds-and-Ends Days
11. – 15. July 2026
I actually thought the ‘atypical’ cloudy weather for Ladakh in June was over, but July is turning out to be quite mixed as well. I’m glad it’s not that hot, but it’s still strange. On the bright side, water has been flowing through all the channels in Leh again for the past few days—until then, they were completely dry. You really wonder how the water system works anyway. Leh has always had a problem with it, and due to all the new hotels and the many Indian travelers who shower frequently, the demand for water keeps rising. By now, virtually every building here has groundwater access. But of course, they have to drill deeper and deeper. Glacier meltwater and snow are steadily decreasing. The vision of Leh drying up doesn’t seem completely absurd to me. Personally, I feel relatively secure in my own hometown regarding climate change, but what must it be like when such dramatic visions are frequently brought right before your eyes?
There are also other interesting phenomena. The monasteries here are quite wealthy; they own shopping complexes in Leh with rental income and also invest in hotels and so on. And one of the largest hotel construction projects belongs to a single Ladakhi monk who did quite well for himself financially through sponsors abroad.
Physically, I’m still not doing completely great, but at least well enough that I can be out and about in town and meet people there. Unfortunately, I stupidly don’t take many photos while doing so. Except, for example, of my delicious Americano coffee with fine cake at Lobzang’s. I hung out there again with Markus and Valentin, talking about life. Travel stories too, admittedly, but not those hollow ones that tend to bore me, along the lines of ‘where are you from, where are you going, what’s it like there, here are a bunch of tips on where to get things cheapest’ and so on.”
And in the evening, I’d finally had enough of my hair growth. No ‘little helmet’ or halo for me. I went to my regular barber. That was quite interesting. Next to me was a Ladakhi man getting the full ‘beauty parlour’ treatment—with creams, lotions, steam, and everything that goes into a facial. Yes, they’ve had that on the menu for a while now. He, for instance, treats himself to it once or twice a year. Just because.
I had two options: a longer hairstyle à la Meret Becker back in the day, or the barber’s suggestion: buzz it all off again.
Result: hairdresser won…..
hen I took care of some shopping requests for friends. One wanted a specific Thangka. I found a hidden junk shop with some truly amazing pieces. They were, however, also (justifiably) very expensive. But it was lovely rummaging through the man’s shop. Even if I do look a bit silly in the photo showing how big one of those pieces actually is.
Besides that, I kept looking around at Nawang’s and checking out the Pashmina shawls. They are great for shipping anyway (the first package arrived safely—with tracking!). Nawang has hired a gentleman named Santosh. He is also super nice and really knows his stuff. He is from Nepal but will be flying back home soon. For about a month. Why? He’s going to be a father! And that reminded me once again of a major cultural difference in relationships: even during pregnancy, couples here are often separated for very long periods. Sometimes the fathers aren’t even home for the birth. Back home, that would definitely be a massive issue for a couple—here, it’s absolutely normal.
Here we are demonstrating shawl lengths/sizes::
Besides that, I visited a Tibetan acquaintance whom I always drop by to see at her fashion boutique for a chat. You can have a wonderful talk with Dolma, and she has this warm, attentive kindness that is doing me a lot of good right now. She also has absolutely amazing clothes in her shop—only, unfortunately, none of it is really my style. But others have had good luck finding things here before. Pleasingly, she offers fashion that hardly anyone else here carries, making her stand out from the otherwise rather uniform merchandise. We also talked about the old days. She is ten years younger than me and was born in Karnataka, India. Back then, they lived in the very last house of a cul-de-sac. There were no private toilets, so everyone always went out to the fields together—separated by gender. You just squatted there and gossiped, and as a child, she thought it was great. In any case, it’s interesting how different the approach to public hygiene can be. It’s still very common here in India. Sometimes I pass by a small shack where laborers live. They have their full-body washing setup right behind a wall that is too low, and sometimes I see them soaping themselves up there.
And I visited Sonam, at whose place I had already stayed several times before. Back then, the inside of the new house was still under renovation—and now I got to sit in one of the most beautiful live-in kitchens. They did a wonderful job with a mix of tradition and modern comforts.
One evening, when I went to pick up my laundry, it wasn’t ready yet, so I ended up having dinner in town. I tried out a new pizzeria for the occasion and was absolutely delighted by a zucchini pizza—which I didn’t take a very pretty photo of. But it was incredibly delicious! Better than many pizzas back home. Speaking of zucchini—it hasn’t been around here for very long (my horsemen didn’t know it at all, but we cooked it up nicely together with eggplants), but I bet it will catch on well. In any case, it grows well here too.
Then I sat and chatted with Nina at Lobzang’s again, and didn’t take a photo either. But what I absolutely have to tell you about that: towards the end, an Australian guy walked in who hasn’t lived anywhere permanently for a long time. He deals in special, intricately handmade jewelry. Not my thing at all, but the pieces he showed us did look amazing. And then, over the course of the conversation, he outed himself as a conspiracy theorist. Where else had all those more than 1,000 missing children gone, if not ended up with the despicable elites? That was too much for me, and I was glad to make my escape. But it really is interesting what kind of people you sometimes run into while traveling.
Otherwise, I’m also quite busy making little videos for my Youtube-Channel. It’s quite exciting to get the hang of such a new medium. But it doesn’t come easy to me, so I gladly take advantage of the help from the AI chat program. It helps with organizing my thoughts, with the planning, and often with the texts as well. And sometimes it makes me laugh—isn’t ‘intellectual honesty’ a great expression?
I actually go to beauty parlors in India sometimes—simply because I absolutely love it when someone pampers me. And here, it is completely affordable. But in Leh, I never knew where to go, and by pure chance, I have now discovered a salon run by an absolute gem. Yangchen not only has a very clean, well-kept space, but she also runs her business with absolute love and warmth. She started way back when, learning from her sister, who was the first Ladakhi woman with a beauty parlor in the late ’80s. And later, she completed her training in Dehradun. I was laid on a treatment table, tucked in, and treated with creams, lotions, tinctures, steam, masks, and heaven knows what else. By the end, my back wasn’t quite as happy anymore, but she then bent me back into shape with a really good massage. So affectionate and with such ‘knowing hands.’ And my face really does look 10 years younger!
And then there was another delightful evening with a surprise guest! Nina, who used to work for a season at the Secpad school where I did the Kamerakidz project, had invited us over for dinner. Over all these years, she has stayed in close touch with one of the very first Kamerakidz—Lobsang Stobdan, who is sitting next to her here. I’ve run into him occasionally over the years too, but always just briefly. He works in tourism, where he earns a living in various roles. Just like back then, he’s a funny, nice guy, and by now a father of three. This time, there was more time to talk. And sitting in the front left is another ex-student who was never in my photography group, but whom I knew anyway: Stanzin Chomdan. I only knew them all as children back then, and now they are grown up and I basically never recognize them. Chomdan has become a mountaineering guide and climbs the local 6,000-meter peaks with clients. And I think he does a really great job; he seems strong and reliable, as well as cheerful and bright. It really is interesting to see how the individual kids turned out—generally more than one would have thought back then. And of course, many—especially the guys—are in the tourism industry.
The nice young man next to me is a driver and not an ex-Secpad student. So he couldn’t chip in with any memories of it, but he still had a great time anyway. And the pizza there: very delicious! It’s actually funny that Italian cuisine has not only been popular in Germany for a long time, but is certainly also the most successful among the ‘foreign cuisines’ in India.
By the way, Nina lives in Thailand but is originally from Northern Germany, where she plans to go for Christmas. And so we’ve already made plans to meet up there!
And one more small observation: when I was so sick and crying, the reaction of the Ladakhi woman who came to see me in my room was: ‘Don’t cry! Don’t cry!’. I found that annoying; I had so much grief inside that I wanted to express it through crying. And then I wanted to be comforted. Not for someone to instruct me to stop crying. And basically the exact same thing happened to Nina. With the same annoying feelings about it—that instead of showing empathy, they just wanted to make the uncomfortable emotions disappear. I asked someone here why that is. He said they feel so sorry that someone is unhappy that they want it to stop as quickly as possible. It seems to work here too; people then perhaps refocus on the beautiful sides of life. But at least my Western mindset doesn’t—it feels unseen and therefore even more miserable. Interesting!
Sometimes the sun also shines in the early evening and I go for a walk. During these, I tried to take ‘untypical’ photos of Ladakh that are still interesting.
I look a bit funny here as well. And with that, I’m finishing this blog post—the next one will come from a different place!