Because of unseasonable rain and fast melting glaciers the rivers overflow onto the fields requiring the farmers to harvest their crops underwater.

I have spent the last 2 years interviewing farmers and nomads living on the Tibetan Plateau—individuals who survive by being acutely aware of climate and its changes over time.  In general the nomads say the weather has been getting hotter and dryer.  Consequently the grass that their animals depend on has become sparser in the last 20 years.  The farmer’s claim that they can’t depend on typical seasonal weather patterns to plant their crops like they used to—unusual rains and dry spells raise havoc with their crops.  The higher temperatures has also allowed them to grow corn—a crop that had never been possible to grow at that elevation 5 to 10 years ago.

Here are some of their observations:

Puchun, 37, has lived at this summer camp at the Nojin-Kangtsang Glacier with his yaks since he was 7. The glacier behind him used to be at the grass level, but has disappeared 50% in the last 30 years.

Tsering, a 70 year old nomad, has herded his yaks since he was a young boy. He says the grass, since the change in weather, is extremely sparse. As a result it is difficult to find enough to maintain his animals.

Tsering Dorjee, 62, has spent his life as a nomad herding his yaks around the Demchok Glacier and watching it slowly disappear. He says it is only ¼ the size it was when he was a boy.

During the month of May an obscure fungus becomes the major focus of people living on the Tibetan Plateau.  The Cordyceps sinensis fungus is known locally as Yartsa Gunbu or Caterpillar Fungus.  The fungus devours and eventually mummifies its host, the ghost moth caterpillar, from inside out during the caterpillar’s hibernation on the mountain grasslands between 10,000 and 16,000 feet.  The caterpillar dies just below the ground and then the dark brown/black mushroom emerges through the soil from the head of the body.

The growing popularity and belief, especially among the Han Chinese, that the fungus is an aphrodisiac and promotes longevity has fueled a modern day gold rush on the Tibetan Plateau.  The fungus came to the world’s attention after some Chinese athletes at the National Games in Beijing extolled its virtues. 

It is estimated that today over 40% of the income of rural Tibetans come from the Caterpillar Fungus.  I was told that one Kilo of the fungus is worth $10,000 and that the children of Nomads can each collect as much as a Kilo per month.  In late 2007 the value of the best-quality Yartsa GünbuDbyar rtswa dgun ’bu in Lhasa (Lasa) traded for around CN ¥80,000 (nearly US $12,000) per pound (JIATS, Danial Winkler).  Since the Nomads are most familiar with the areas where the fungus grows they have become the greatest beneficiaries.   

I would walk into empty monasteries because the Monks were either hunting Yartsa Gunbu or home tending to the animals so their family could be out hunting.  You can imagine what this does to school enrollment of Nomadic children during the month of May.  Almost everyone I met –Monks, Nomads, Hui Muslims, and Urban Tibetans were involved in harvesting or trading the fungus. 

According to field mycologist, Daniel Winkler, the value of Yartsa Gunba has increased by 900% between 2007 and mid 2008.  Unfortunately, arguments over grazing rights has lead to community disputes.  The violence has caused injuries and even a few deaths.  There were many occasions during my travels when we ran into road blocks and interrogation by officials who let us continue our journey after they were assured that we were not collecting the valuable fungi.

However, the highlight of our time with him was a visit to a ninety-year-old Ani (a nun named Sadia Tsomo) who went to a cave in a mountain side to meditate when she was twelve.  Choqhua and other members of his monastery and the local villagers have provided her with food water and firewood over the years.  Choqhua told us they consider her to be the manifestation of the ‘great mother’ protective deity Green Tara.  He also told us she had never seen a foreigner before.

The thoughts of meeting this woman who had spent 78 years meditating in a cave inspired me to climb the mountain to her 13,000 ft retreat.  Choqhua said that she does come down from her cave once a year to visit the monastery, but that she had never seen a foreigner

As we approached the entrance to her cave Choqhua had us stay back as he went in to meet her.  Twenty minutes later he came out to let us know that she was too frightened to see a foreigner.  I gave my camera to my guide Trashi Dhondrup who was able to go in and meet her and take a few photos.  Tashi is from Yushu where the April earthquake hit and destroyed the town and the guest house he was building.  He asked her to pray for the friends and relatives that he had lost in that tragedy.

News sent from Phil while working on a second book in Tibet:

I’m in Gansu Province on the Eastern Tibetan Plateau adding to my collection of stories of people who live on the plateau.  I’m traveling with Stevan from North Carolina and Inigo who is currently living in Singapore — Both are photographers that I met in my workshops.  Vincent, our Tibetan guide pointed out this group of monks camping out in the middle of nowhere.  Monks camping!?!  There were six monks that were on a 129 day pilgrimage moving their campsite every two days.  They would retire to their tent and chant for two hours praying for a good growing season and health for the livestock of farmers and nomads in the area.   They did this six times a day!

We watched as they joked with each other, carved mani stones and fed the ants.

The One HEART Staff in happier times.

Today I learned that Arlene has decided to donate all of the One HEART assets in Tibet to the Tibetan Staff in hopes that they will be able to continue their work.  They are currently looking for foundational support out of Hong Kong.  It’s great to see that they are not giving up!  I just hope they make it. 

After Arlene left I decided to stay and document some of the drokpa families (nomadic families) in the areas where One HEART was about to expand its work.   Since I couldn’t document One HEART’s work I decided to document the typical families they were working with.   I hired a guide and three yaks and took off on a five day trek into the beautiful high mountain valleys north of Lhasa.

I watched nervously as Tenzin the Yak herder put my camera bags into a flimsy gunny sack and precariously roped it to the back of a Yak.

Yaks have three times more red blood cells than the average cow.  With its long hair and ability to survive in oxygen depleted air the yak thrives in the high altitudes where cows would perish.  Just as the buffalo was central to the life of Native Americans the yak is critical to the survival of the Tibetan nomads.  The milk is made into cheese, yogurt and butter which is used in butter lamps and the omnipresent butter tea.   The yak hair is woven into tents, blankets, bags and rope.

Yaks are great pack animals but are almost impossible to herd when they are alone.  So anytime you need to hire a yak for a trek you need at least two.  The typical price is about $6 per day per yak—the yak herder is free!

I held my breath every time the Yak crossed a river or creek and prayed it wouldn’t decide to lie down to cool off.   I carry my equipment (Canon Mark III 1ds; Sony EX1 Video Camera; lights and sound equipment in two bags).

The article states:  “There’s a growing recognition among everyone from the World Bank to the U.S. military’s Joint Chiefs of Staff to aid organizations like CARE that focusing on women and girls is the most effective way to fight global poverty and extremism. That’s why foreign aid is increasingly directed to women. The world is awakening to a powerful truth: Women and girls aren’t the problem; they’re the solution.”

I just returned from a heartbreaking trip to Tibet where I planned to continue my work on women’s issues.  I went to document the work of the NGO ‘One HEART’ which has been addressing the high rate maternal and infant mortality — especially among Tibet’s nomadic population.

Tele who is 63 with his grandson Sonam Choedon. Sonam was born near Lake Namtso where One HEART hoped to start working this year. Like most Nomad children he was born only with the help of family members. Luckily the birth went without complications.

As in many parts of the world, indigenous people don’t get or seek medical help because of different cultural beliefs and misunderstandings.  Many Tibetan Nomads believe that in the critical moments after birth the infant is very susceptible to a ‘Hungry Ghost’ that can jump onto and occupy the newborn.   These ghosts that can be carried by any stranger are believed to make havoc in one’s life.   Needless to say a Nomad doesn’t want a doctor or midwife that they barely know attending the birth of their child.  They also believe that the blood of childbirth offends the spirits of the house.   Therefore many births take place in a cold and dirty stable away from the warm fire in their yak-hair tents. It’s no wonder that an estimated three women died for every 100 births and one in ten infants did not survive their first year of life.   

Adu, 26 and her husband Tadro, 31 live at 16,000 feet where they raise yaks and goats. Since the Tibetan’s have never had a midwife tradition, both of their children were born at home without any prenatal, birthing, or postnatal care.

To address these cultural beliefs One Heart’s Tibetan staff trained local nomadic women to be midwives and provided a plastic sheet to contain the ‘spiritual blood pollutants’ that could be taken out of the tent after the birth.  The ten year old program has been extremely successful.  Last year there were no maternal deaths in the two counties they worked in.   Unfortunately, One HEART’s contract to continue their work was not renewed.  

It is often said when a mother dies the family dies—students drop out of school to help take care of younger siblings, and fathers strain under the added workload.  It is such a shame that a program that was so successful at saving families from the devastating effects of losing a mother had to end.

Nomadic life in Tibet is changing fast.  Solar panels, cell phones and satellite radios are starting to appear.  The cell phone is becoming an important tool in the campaign to reduce maternal mortality.

Thank you for visiting my blog! I welcome your comments and look forward to hearing what you have to say.

Phil Borges

PS: If you didn’t have a chance to read my previous blog postings from Tibet they can be found here:

Microsoft Pro Photo Blog – Post 1 of 2

Microsoft Pro Photo Blog – Post 2 of 2