Orchids, Strawberries and Yak Butter Tea

Economic & Political Weekly EPW august 27, 2016 vol lI no 35

A trip to Yumthang Valley, a veritable land of flowers in North Sikkim, in the months of April and May, is a visual treat. The bumpy road journey from Gangtok to the base area of the Valley—Lachung—may make you a little tired and even dizzy. After all, Yumthang means “deep gorge”. Don’t fall for the road sign which says Lachung is just 114 km from the capital. The drive will take a good six to seven hours, provided you are blessed with good weather. Despite the rough patches (which are aplenty) on the mountain road, one does enjoy breathtaking views of the mighty mountains, covered with myriad shades of green and the occasional brownish red, not to speak of the pristine rivers and waterfalls on the way. And the real surprise is the profusion of wild orchids—white, yellow and purple—peeping out from the trees in the forests. You see the first one, then a second, and a third … then you lose count. The orchids, they are everywhere.


On such scenic drives, a nice place to take a break for a cup of tea is a must. And Chumthang, a small hamlet, located on the confluence of Lachen and Lachung rivers, provides an ideal setting. Who knows, next time when you visit Yumthang, the Chumthang bazaar may not be there. People say that once the dam becomes operative, the whole bazaar will be submerged. The weather gets colder while we cross Chumthang. The landscape changes with the altitude. Suddenly, snowcapped mountains appear from nowhere. The Himalayas are full of surprises.


Our driver, Chewang, a man from Lachung, stopped the car at two places where we could watch nature, undisturbed. He halted once to show us tiny little wild oranges. I had not heard of, or seen, such a delicious fruit; once you take a bite, a sweet aroma lingers in your mouth for a long time afterwards. Lachung, at 8,000 feet high, is a hamlet serenaded by immense mountains, with the Lachung river fl owing quietly by its side. Lachung has more hotels and homestays than residential houses. To see the real villages, one has to trek to the interiors where the villagers grow millets, vegetables and a kind of rajma in the summer months. Yaks are domesticated for milk and meat. And yak butter tea is a delicacy among the Bhutia community here.

Lachung is the base camp for the Valley goers, since no night-stay facilities are available in the Valley. Another interesting factor about Lachung is its local body, the Dzomsa, a traditional panchayat, which is stronger than the statutory panchayats. The Dzomsa has an intensive role to play in the lives of the people and is the last word for any disputes or other matters related to the locality. After the 73rd Amendment to the Indian Constitution, when the panchayats were restructured, the Sikkim government decided to accord recognition to the Dzomsa as a statutory body under the  Sikkim Panchayat Amendment Act, 1995.


 Evening had fallen as I walked up to the river to commune quietly with nature. The sight of mountains covered with snow sent a shiver down my spine, especially when I realised that it is mid-May and most parts of India are roasting in high temperatures. That’s when you crave for a cup of hot tea; most of the small teashops are helmed by women who, adorned in their traditional dress, the Bakku, serve with a broad and ever-present smile. If you do not speak Bhutia or Nepali, then Hindi is fi ne—and broken Hindi like mine is even better; it makes the women feel more at home. The Dzomsa’s dictum prevails in the matter of the dress code—women in the village should wear the Bakku or else be ready to pay a huge fi ne. Not many women defy the rules of the pipen (the headman of the Dzomsa).


The Yumthang Valley is just an hour away from Lachung. After a good night’s sleep under a thick blanket and fortified by a nice cuppa, I was ready for the expedition in the morning. You have to get past a police checkpost and another one manned by the Army where your permit is verified. This is a strategic area as far as the Army is concerned. The Tibetan border is close by. Chewang, pointing to a huge mountain range close by, told us, “Tibet is on the other side of the mountain.” I thought: “Who knows, maybe some Tibetan will be saying something similar from the other side: ‘See, India is on the other side.’ ” And they might have relatives in Sikkim or other parts of India who crossed over in the 1959 exodus.


The road is opened to tourists but the mist is hesitant to disappear. We were lucky to have a local person as the driver who knew the very spots not to be missed. We stopped our car to pick bright red wild strawberries which grow all over the grass beds. The Valley has a rhododendron sanctuary (Singba) which houses a variety of the evergreen rhododendron shrub. It was the flowering season and we could see bright red, orange, purple and white rhododendrons everywhere, alongside primulas (primroses). Nature is truly breathtaking here.


We took an hour-and-a-half to reach the Valley as we couldn’t but help take many breaks to stop and absorb the spectacle of natural flowerbeds and the riot of colours on both sides of the road. In the Valley, in makeshift sheds, the locals sold tea, momos and noodles and also warm clothing and other necessities. My friend, Patricia, ate heartily, while hovering over the warmth of a rustic iron stove in which a huge logwood burned incessantly. The tourists were busy borrowing snow boots and heavy jackets to go to Zero Point which is closer to the border and at a higher altitude than Yumthang. That part is mostly covered with ice.


The Valley also serves as a grazing ground for yaks. The yaks looked friendly alright, but I didn’t have the courage to go close. The beautiful Lachung river gurgled past us through the bottom of the Valley. Beyond were enormous mountains, undoubtedly home to a range of arresting flora and fauna, sporting a biodiversity beyond human reach. Inside the thick forest—or so people say—can be found red pandas, the state animal of Sikkim. The pandas live in high altitudes which humans, thank fully, cannot reach. Red pandas are lovely and supposedly happy creatures; I recall seeing a red panda couple in a zoo in Darjeeling, but I did not find them particularly happy.


We returned from the Valley in the late afternoon, back to a nice warm meal and a nap. We stayed back for the night as it was not easy to bid farewell to the place. A placid early morning walk through the Valley’s meadows, watching the snow-clasped mountains, and shivering slightly in the cool breeze, calmed my soul. The path was muddied by the rains from the previous night. There were not many early risers, so I could continue my solitary walk. Becalmed, I was prepared, now, to go back to Gangtok, ready for another day, another experience.