People have long wrested a living from herding goats and
tending wheat fields ringed by 6,000-m (19,685-ft) snow-capped
peaks, while Buddhist monasteries dotting the landscape are a
reminder of the region's ties to its eastern neighbor, Tibet.
Traditions are fading fast as larger numbers of India's
burgeoning middle class flock to holiday in the tranquillity of
the lunar-like terrain.
Yet living in India's remote northwestern corner of Ladakh still
has advantages, says Tashi Phutit, an 81-year old wheat farmer
and housewife.
"Now we can eat better vegetables and wear better clothes. The
problem is people are becoming greedy," she said outside her
stone-hut home in Stok, a village 15 kms (9.3 miles) distant
from Leh, the region's largest town.
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Residents of the village, 3,500 meters (3,800 yards) above sea
level, use cow dung to heat their homes and solar power to warm
water. They work together to harvest the fields of each
villager, before moving on to the next.
Buddhists form the majority of those dwelling in Leh's rugged
treeless deserts, but make up just 9 million of the 1.3-billion
population of India, where Gautam Buddha, founder of the
religion, is believed to have attained enlightenment.
Several thousand are ethnic Tibetans who fled across the border
after an abortive uprising against Chinese rule in 1959.
Today's biggest change is India's ballooning tourist industry,
with the government forecasting arrivals in Ladakh to hit
313,000 in 2017, exceeding the region's 280,000 residents and
ten times the number of visitors in 2002.
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The resulting strain on resources leaves vehicles clogging narrow
roads, spurring worries about growing pollution and the risk of
receding glaciers.
But tourism spells a more prosperous future for the youth.
Life has "become much easier and much more comfortable," says
Tsering Gurmet, Phutit's 28-year-old grandson, who is a mountain
guide.
Mathematics teacher Phunchok Angmo stands proudly in the shadow of
the 15th-century hilltop Thiksey monastery nearby, her head adorned
with a fur-lined hat studded with turquoise stones that is a family
heirloom.
She says schooling has improved as wealth has penetrated to the
mountains from the Indian hinterland hundreds of kilometers to the
south, but change has come at a cost.
"The children here no longer care about the culture and they spend
less time talking to each other," the 33-year-old said. "They spend
their free time on laptops."
(Writing by Tommy Wilkes; Editing by Clarence Fernandez)
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