There are no telephone networks in Sankri, no internet too. Perhaps, that is why there is a better connection.
Recently, I travelled to Sankri, a village in the Rupin Valley of Uttarkashi district to conduct a workshop for village settlements within the Govind Wildlife Sanctuary. The visit was part of a workshop supported by the Secure Himalaya Project of the United Nations Development Programme, which I was conducting in an effort to secure livelihoods for communities living in this protected forest zone.
This was an activity that would help ensure that people conserve habitats, reduce pressure on the forests, which in themselves could become sources of economic regeneration. The workshop, besides the usual business of training people on how to develop an ecotourism-based enterprise, provided a great opportunity to learn from the community. In this article I would like to share a few lessons from this visit.
But before that, a little description of the place. The village is an arduous two-hundred-kilometre drive from Dehradun, reached through meandering mountain roads. The nearest town, Purola, is two hours away. At this time of the year, most treks in Ladakh and Himachal Pradesh are snowbound and inaccessible.
Trekking companies, therefore, shift their focus to Sankri which has quickly emerged as a popular base camp for picturesque winter treks like Har ki Doon, Kedarkantha, Rupin Pass and Ruinsara Lake, where the snows are abundant on the mountain tops, but the trails are relatively clear. Sankri village completely belied our expectations of being a nondescript mountain hamlet, and in fact resembled a mini-Everest base camp, abuzz with the hectic activity of the selling of high-altitude adventure.
Large number of young men and women busied themselves, hiring equipment at the several stores selling specialised mountain gear. Guides and porters made brisk business arranging for groups to go up and down the mountain slopes, ensuring they collected their mandatory selfies and profile pictures in the background of thick snows and azure blue skies.
There was even a café serving waffles, pancakes and Capuccinos. I entered the café and sat at a table. Within minutes a young man approached me and introduced himself as, Shubham Kala, my student from many years ago. He had studied hotel management and worked in hotels around the world.
He was now preparing to set up a café with a friend settled in the US as a partner, and two chefs from the mountains, currently working in Delhi. “Why not do this in Delhi or Dehradun and come to a place where even phones do not work?” was may question. “So many young people are coming to this place for treks. They go up the slopes for three to four days and survive in harsh conditions on dal-rice and Maggie noodles. Even the water supply is limited. The moment they return, they need the Pastas and the bar-be-cues. That’s where we come in”. Good thinking.
In the hotel I stayed in, I met Rajat, an engineer who had quit teaching fluid mechanics in a college in Dehradun and had become a tour guide for the love of the outdoors. “Youth can do a lot of things, but people do not trust us to make a difference,” was his lament. He wants to work with the school kids in Sankri to train them in outdoor survival. There is neither support nor trust.
A few years ago, I happened to be at Sankri and none of this tourism generated economic activity could be seen. The manner in which the place has emerged as a center for adventure tourism, is nothing short of remarkable. And yet, there was a sense of chaos, a feeling that nothing was working out the way it ought to, pervaded the place.
What I learnt at Sankri, placing it against the prevailing gloom in the rest of the state’s villages, I realised that people are intrinsically intelligent, and can sense a business opportunity when one presents itself. For instance, I observed here that some people went all the way to Purola, a good two-hour drive away, to post pictures of their mountain locales on social media in order to generate business. In such cases, where a place is attracting substantial tourism traffic, Government can become a facilitator and needs to organise the opportunity in a manner that the business grows even as the fragile ecology of such landscapes is protected. Of course, it fails miserably in this task. Sankri as a centre for tourism is yet to become a blip on the government’s radar. Learning number two, youth are not trusted in our system. They are raring to go and make a difference. Yet we are not able to tap into their potential to make positive change happen.In the mountains, the ecological impact of unbridled tourism needs to be fathomed and controlled. Activities such as camping need to be regulated, along with consumption of packaged food and bottled water. They are allowed to go on unchecked until a tipping point is reached. Then we go about imposing sanctions and bans. People come to places like Sankri looking for peace and quiet, a spiritual and meditative experience. They are often out of their comfort zones and need reassurance of safety. Current infrastructure does not provide for any of that.
Uttarakhand is a land endowed with pristine wonders such as Sankri. The question is, can we empower young people to take advantage of our pristine locations in order to carve out employment opportunities that can stem migration to the plains? Is it possible to keep these sites beautiful for times to come, for posterity to enjoy? The questions are too many, and all of us need to find answers to them.
(The writer is an anthropologist, author, traveler & activist who also runs a public walking group called Been There, Doon That?)