In a world where culture, language, religion, identities are bland with globalization, Tamangs have preserved their unique culture and identity over hundreds of years. We owe them appreciation in that regard. Here, time is still a product factor of sunrise and monsoon, full moon and harvest. In a place like this, something like clock flunks to command recognition for its existence. In contrast, in our modern lives, the same mechanical tick-tuck decides the pace of life – when to eat, when to sleep, when to work, when to shit. That last phrase was probably too much. If there’s anything that is moving with the pace of life in Gatlang, that is covalence and harmony between the people and nature for hundreds of years. And, their lifestyles still retain similar characteristics of the lifestyles many grandfathers ago. Read Previous Blogs: Gatlang - A traveler's epitome Part II A simple dinner with the locals – millet and potatoes, and I am set to roll out. But that was a failed quest. In glimmering light of firewood and kerosene lamps, neighbors talk about daily affairs in their language. The houses are made from stacked stones and wooden roof. That allows enough space and air for sounds to escape. Result? Neighbors five houses apart hear what one talks about in his house. I am no exception. I am hung on thin air without sleep. The twilight stricken Langtang II and Langtang Lirung (7246m) make up for the stolen sleep. Not too long, the sounds extinguish, and suddenly a freezing silence stalks the narrow alleys of the village. It’s 9:00 pm, and smoke cease to exit chimneys. We are deep asleep. It’s another 6:00 pm, and I was one of the last souls to rise. The sun gilds the flanks of Langtang Lirung, and I
In a world where culture, language, religion, identities are bland with globalization, Tamangs have preserved their unique culture and identity over hundreds of
