“I studied civil engineering at Brunel University, near London,” he tells me. “I was sent by the Indian government and returned to build infrastructure all over our nation. I helped open Ladakh to the world, but now we have new challenges. With all the tourists and growing population, there’s huge pressure on energy and water. Our ecosystem is very fragile, so I’m trying to educate people.”
Mr. Angchuk, like most of the people of Leh, is ethnically Tibetan—the region of Ladakh is often called ‘Little Tibet’. Photos of the Dalai Lama, Tibet’s spiritual leader, are dotted about the guesthouse and each morning, I hear the ringing of bells and drone-like chanting, as Mr. Angchuk and his family perform Tibetan Buddhist prayers. But, when it comes to more earthly matters, he sticks to hard science.
In fact, his own guesthouse is a case study of environmental awareness in itself. A parabolic mirror reflect the sun’s rays onto a black water tank, so guests can have warm showers after breakfast. This water then irrigates the fields and vegetable patches, rather than running off into the river. And he’s part of the local Non-Conventional-Energy-Technology group, which encourages people to install solar panels and micro-hydro power, rather than using kerosene stoves or diesel generators.
To get a better sense of the region’s challenges, I take a half-hour walk to Shanti Stupa, a Buddhist structure overlooking the city. Leh itself sits in a side valley, ringed by mountains, with the ridge of Leh Palace overlooking the old town. To the south, the snow-topped Himalayas stand like a vast wall, blocking the monsoon clouds from bringing their rains, and leaving the Ladakh region a cold, dry desert. The landscape is harsh, with grey-yellow ridges reaching down from the peaks.
