Chronologicallyours: Llamayaru

Lamayaru.
21-8-81

This rock formed some amazing deformed peaks. The softer rock: "leper" caves and upright pinnacles sticking off the side of slopes, not yet washed away by whatever rain they have - just like the moon.
And not a shrub insight.
On the soft rock slopes above, perched here and there were large angular boulders which had poked through the surface once upon a time.
The odd truck must catch it every now and then and I must hastily say that they deserve it. You should see them when the one way section of the road is clear, just like Park Lane - only there's a sheer drop and anyone in England chucking out that much black oily smoke would be hung (amen)
And so on to magnificent Lamayaru where the tall white prayer flags hang and ripple like falling stream water and where all the monks are round and jolly --------------

23-8-81 Amazing and Unbelievable

Amazing - that's what I told the monk. He wondered if I was writing a history book,

"No , making pictures" gesture gesture I said.

"Oh, a history book" he said

"Yes, that's right," I said.

But, whatever, that ride and that monastery, I find easier to believe now - when I can select more pieces from memory than I could then when it was all happening (and very bright too)

BUT THOSE MOUNTAINS, SO COLOSSAL.

A French tourist guide said the place was magnificent. But I think I picked a better pair of words, It was too much to draw - a case of "where do you start?" In the end I thought a little corner would be unsatisfying so I left it and have contented myself with a handful of photos and the postcards we will buy.

We didn't know the place was perched on this 2-300 foot drop until we walked down to the fields at the bottom. From the side it seemed to be incredibly placed on a flat topped truncated spur. But on walking round you realise that it is in fact almost a series of vertical columns of orangey, softer rock, eroded and eroding. Some of these building HAVE to fall off one rainy day. The place seems magnificently perched, but some of this erosion seemed to be shadows right under the houses.

It was hard to tell, especially with the houses which was old and which was new.

For two reasons:

Because they have always built them like that.

And, if one corner crumbles away, you simply rebuild it.
Everywhere, there were signs of roofs going through with just the bare pole skeletons poking through surrounded by black hole. They'll patch them up before it gets very cold, or simply not use them.

A line of them leading up to the monastery built up as a 10foot thick wall and covered with individually " sloganised" stones. An impressive statement about the agelessness of the thoughts. Some in bare floral circles, some just lines of (probably) script. Some of them stylised picture words. The row stretched back for 2-3 kms and was punctuated by roughly triangular white mud obliques of which meaning, I have as yet not divined. Something to pause, stop and think by perhaps.

Something perhaps similar in notion are the cylindrical, pivoting prayer wheels, set vertically in walls where people - slightly pausing - turn the cylinders with their hands - feeling the idea. They are often situated en-route to things for instance on the way in or out.

The other effect similar in passing life "eureka!" stimulation - also had their own pedestals and shot upwards in triangles. They divided the monotony of the flat roofs and little square boxes, they were:

The monastery temple was also "stucco" in mud and went up and up, again, it had little square windows spaced just like a skyscraper (only with smaller windows!) and a big square arch all dark and airy inside.

Outside this building was a shrine complex painted brick red in parts, with dragon lions (4ft long) on some of its flat sides with again, interspersed obelisks. And everywhere were strung white prayer flags, in muslin with full prayers on them and hung like washing lines. And little (coloured) triangular flags and the tall fluttering flags with striped, colourful head pieces made from material and also "pinpointing" in the sky.

On the other side of the gorge/valley were also houses leading into the main dry river from way up. The houses with black shadows were set against another black upright of rock with here and there, very useful caves carved into the more forward columns of soft stone and all the houses angled

Yes, we walked down to the dry gully (through the barley) It had been robbed of its water by the very effective drainage/irrigation system. It was very stony and obviously when it rained: turned into a rushing dessert arroyo, obviously a place to miss.

But - by the side of this effectively carved channel were two flat dead donkeys, half eaten by I don't know what. I wonder if they were too old to eat: they simply fell down: or they don't eat donkeys anyway and something else (bigger than insect) should have a meal.

Still, whatever, it lets you know - it lets you know.

And so we turned and began the ascent, rapidly realising the lack of oxygen - one hand on the wall, gasp gasp. They say you get used to it though. We walked back up (that early evening) And the changes of shadow, and general changes in the tone of huge masses of stone and mountain, and the glare off many walls, and the difference between morning and evening ( the sun simply moved from one end of the valley to the other) made this a little

Well, whatever - we couldn't afford it, due to ill balanced immediate budgeting.

The monks are certainly beginning to learn about tourist cash in a big way.

The place was only left with a skeleton crew, most of them seemed to be away on holiday in Srinagar in order to avoid the tourists. But all that were left seemed to have a blanket on the ground stall selling relics and curios probably a lot of which were manufactured.

I think they were quite used to squeezing money out of tourists without too much fuss. I mean: its difficult to stand up to a monk and say "you cheat, you are robbing me"