Lamas, Shamans and Ancestors

Brill’s
Tibetan Studies
Library

Edited by
Henk Blezer
Alex McKay
Charles Ramble

VOLUME 17
Lamas, Shamans
and Ancestors
Village Religion in Sikkim

By

Anna Balikci

LEIDEN • BOSTON
2008
On the cover: Tashi Lhamo (sitting) together with Ongtik in front of the village’s prayer
hall or mani lhakhang. Both are mothers of Tingchim households (see also Pl. 29 as well
as the text on p. 248ff.).

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Balikci, Anna.
Lamas, shamans, and ancestors : village religion in Sikkim / by Anna Balikci.
p. cm. — (Brill’s Tibetan studies library, ISSN 1568-6183 ; v. 17)
Originally presented as the author’s thesis (doctoral—University of London, School
of Oriental and African Studies).
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 978-90-04-16706-3 (hardback : alk. paper) 1. Bhotia (Tibetan people)—
India—Sikkim—Religion. 2. Shamans—India—Sikkim. 3. Lamas—India—Sikkim.
4. Bon (Tibetan religion)—Relations—Buddhism. 5. Buddhism—Relations—Bon.
I. Title. II. Series.

BL2016.S55B35 2008
299.5’40954167—dc22
2008008973

ISSN 1568-6183
ISBN 978 90 04 16706 3

Copyright 2008 by Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, The Netherlands.

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printed in the netherlands

For my father and mother
 CONTENTS

Preface ......................................................................................... xi
Original Preface and Acknowledgments .................................... xiii
A Note on the Text .................................................................... xvii
List of Illustrations ...................................................................... xix

PART I: THE SETTING

Chapter One: Introduction ........................................................ 3

1. Basic concepts and terms .................................................. 5
2. Lamas and shamans: a problematic relation? .................. 17
3. The chapters ...................................................................... 37

Chapter Two: Perspectives on the Past ...................................... 43

1. Historical development of Tingchim’s political,
economic and inter-ethnic relations .................................. 43
2. Relation between bon and Buddhism or the creation
of village religion ............................................................... 56
3. Origins and migrations of the Lhopos ............................. 65
3.1. Notes on the origins of the Namgyal dynasty ......... 66
3.2. Gye Bumsa and the chief clans of Sikkim ............... 69
3.3. Origins and migration history of Tingchim’s
descent groups ........................................................... 74
4. Definition of the person in terms of household,
lineage, village, region and social class ............................. 81

Chapter Three: The Hidden Land and its Supernatural

Population ............................................................................... 85
1. Taming of the country and its inhabitants:
Sikkim as a beyul ................................................................ 86
2. Living in a sacred hidden land ......................................... 91
3. The pho lha mo lha: ancestors and lineage protectors ........ 93
4. The supernatural beings of the territory .......................... 103
5. Kangchendzönga’s pre-Buddhist identities ....................... 106
viii contents

6. Perceptions of the supernatural and questions of

identity ............................................................................... 110

Chapter Four: Village Religion: Ritual of Illness ...................... 117

1. On the cause of illness ...................................................... 118
2. Diagnosing the cause of illness ......................................... 124
2.1. The sequence of cure and its ultimate ritual:
the ‘red’ offering ........................................................ 126
2.2. Levels of ritual co-operation ..................................... 140

Chapter Five: The Shamans ...................................................... 145

1. Who gets initiated as a pawo or a nejum ............................ 146
2. The initiation ritual ........................................................... 153
3. The influence of Buddhism on the shamans’
ritual practice ..................................................................... 157
4. Interaction with ancestors ................................................. 161
5. Looking north: comparative notes with Mongolian
shamanism ......................................................................... 165

PART II: THE LAND

Chapter Six: The Land, its Workers, Harvests and Rituals ..... 173
1. The land and its workers .................................................. 173
1.1. Agricultural tenant farmers and labourers of
Nepalese origin .......................................................... 176
2. The Indian merchants ....................................................... 181
3. Harvests .............................................................................. 185
3.1. The agricultural cycle and animal husbandry ......... 185
3.2. Hunting and gathering .............................................. 188
4. The land and its rituals ..................................................... 189
4.1. Harvest offerings by the pawo in honour of the
pho lha mo lha .............................................................. 192
4.2. Harvest offerings by the bongthing in honour of
ajo anyo and latsen ....................................................... 194
4.3. Harvest offerings by the lama in honour of
Kabur Kangtsen ........................................................ 196
4.4. Protecting the harvest: the Sesung Gomchen
and the controlling of hail ........................................ 204
4.5. The Nesol: ritual of the land par excellence .................. 207
 contents ix

4.6. Other harvest and hunting rituals ............................ 210

4.7. Losung: the farmer’s New Year ................................. 212

Chapter Seven: The Land, its Problems and Ritual

Solutions .................................................................................. 216
1. Land and other disputes with non-relatives and
outsiders ............................................................................. 217
1.1. Disputes with Nepalese and other outsiders ............. 218
1.2. Curses and poisoning accusations: land and
other disputes between non-related Lhopos ............. 223
2. Polluting and destroying objects of nature within
the village ........................................................................... 228
3. Wrong action performed against the sacred land
beyond the village: the case of Rathong Chu
hydro-electric project ......................................................... 234

PART III: THE HOUSEHOLD

Chapter Eight: Life and Ritual Cycles of Household

Members ................................................................................. 245
1. The household ................................................................... 245
2. Inter-ethnic marriages ....................................................... 252
3. Rituals of the household and its members ....................... 254
3.1. Birth ........................................................................... 257
3.2. Marriage .................................................................... 258
3.3. Building a new house and establishing a
corporate household .................................................. 270
3.4. Joining the monastery ............................................... 271
3.5. Severe illness and death ............................................ 273

Chapter Nine: Curing and Protective Rituals of the

Household ............................................................................... 282
1. Ritual solutions to land disputes among relatives ............. 283
2. Old household feuds .......................................................... 286
3. Ritual and other solutions to problems related to
women and marriage ........................................................ 288
4. Ritual solutions to the lingering consciousness of
dead kin members ............................................................. 294
x contents

PART IV: THE VILLAGE AND THE STATE

Chapter Ten: Ritual, the Village and the State ........................ 305
1. Local administration and the village’s unity ..................... 305
2. Buddhism and the village’s relations with the outside
world in pre-1975 Sikkim .................................................. 313
2.1. The joint celebration of bon and Buddhism in
village and state rituals .............................................. 322
3. Religion, the village and its changing relations in
post-1975 Sikkim ............................................................... 326
4. Identity in the 1990s and the revival of Buddhism
in the state ......................................................................... 334

Chapter Eleven: Conventional Buddhism and Village

Religion ................................................................................... 342
1. The case of Lopen Dugyal’s return to the village ........... 342
2. The pawo’s annual retreat .................................................. 345
2.1. Day one and two: finding the ‘demon’ ..................... 348
2.2. Day three: expelling the ‘demon’ .............................. 355
3. Lopen Dugyal and the village lamas ................................ 362

Chapter Twelve: Conclusion: The Apparent Dichotomy

between Bon and Buddhism ................................................... 367

Glossary of recurrent terms ....................................................... 377

Bibliography ................................................................................ 387
Names Index ............................................................................... 395
General Index ............................................................................. 397
 PREFACE

This book was initially written as a doctoral dissertation in Social

Anthropology at the University of London, School of Oriental and
African Studies. It is based on over two years of field research carried
out in Sikkim and in the village of Tingchim between October 1993
and December 1995, with two additional research visits to the village
in May and December 1996. Since the first draft was written in the late
1990s, my understanding of the subject based on the initial fieldwork
experience has evolved in a number of ways. I have again been living
in Sikkim since 1999 and working at the Namgyal Institute of Tibetol-
ogy as Research Coordinator since 2002. My work at the Institute has
allowed me to carry out further field studies in a number of new settings
and circumstances, particularly among the Lepcha of Dzongu in North
Sikkim. When I started rewriting my thesis as a book in 2005, I eventu-
ally decided to exclude most of these new findings and experiences so as
to keep it as a representation of a particular time and place, and of a
particular experience. The first long-term fieldwork experience remains
the most intense, where the discovery of a new social world can be an
exhilarating experience for the novice anthropologist. Indeed, looking
back, my enthusiasm for understanding Tingchim’s ritual culture knew
no limits and I never tired of attending rituals, carrying out interviews
and looking for gaps in my understanding of the village’s social world.
I view this as an experience which, along with its moral obligations and
academic standards of enquiry, cannot be lived outside of the anthro-
pological framework. The freshness and innocence of my viewpoint
also allowed for a certain distance, which made the data gathering
and the processes of analysis and writing easier. I believe such work
can only be done once in a person’s lifetime. This said, my subsequent
fieldwork experiences and understanding of Sikkimese culture are not
any less valid than this initial study—they are simply different, and will
require a different style of writing. After over twelve years of residence
in Sikkim, I have gained an insider’s viewpoint, which allows not only
for a more nuanced grasp of socio-cultural issues, but also makes it in
certain ways more difficult to distance myself, a distance which can be
necessary for academic writing.
xii preface

My time and efforts in recent years have been spent on visual anthro-
pology projects where local participation and appreciation is achieved
in a more direct way. It has indeed been one of my greatest pleasures
to work with my father, Asen Balikci, along with young Sikkimese, in
the discovery and recording of their own culture and history. Using
the medium of ethnographic film and historic photographs, together
with Dawa Tshering Lepcha, Tenzin Chukie Tashi and Phurpo Tsher-
ing Bhutia, we are gradually documenting Sikkimese ritual culture and
reconstructing Sikkim’s visual history in a way which appeals not only
to foreign and local audiences, but also to different generations of Sik-
kimese from urban and rural as well as from modern and traditional
educational backgrounds.
The rewriting of the original manuscript was generously funded by
the Richard Carley Hunt Fellowship awarded by the Wenner-Gren
Foundation for Anthropological Research, New York, for which I am
extremely grateful. Financial support for the initial research is acknowl-
edged in the original preface below.
While working on this book, many people helped, both in Europe and
in Sikkim. My gratitude first of all goes to my thesis supervisor Lionel
Caplan and research assistant Lopen Dugyal Acharya Bhutia for their
continuous support over the years. I would also like to thank my thesis
examiners Charles Ramble and Sophie Day for their comments and
encouragement, as well as Tashi Densapa, Director of the Namgyal
Institute of Tibetology, for giving me the necessary leave to work on
the final manuscript. I am indebted to many who helped, each in their
own way: Sabine Pusch, Mark Turin, Françoise Pommaret, Samten
Karmay, Saul Mullard, Dawa Tshering Lepcha and Isabelle Onians.
At Brill, I would like to thank Albert Hoffstädt and Patricia Radder. I
am particularly grateful to the Series Editors Charles Ramble and Alex
Mckay for their most appreciated help while finalising the manuscript,
as well as to Carl Yamamoto for his expert editing.
My father Asen Balikci, mother Véréna Ossent and husband Jigme
Dorje Denjongpa were there every step of the way, giving me all the
necessary time and space to complete this work, despite the numerous
obligations and complications that come with a family life stretched
over three cultures and continents.

Tathangchen, Sikkim
January 2007
 ORIGINAL PREFACE AND ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Sikkim was first suggested to me as a place of study by Tashi Tsering

of the Amnye Machen Institute. With his encouragement, I visited
Sikkim in January 1991 and again during three months in the summer
of 1992. From the start, the religion of the common people interested
me more than the Buddhism practised in the important monasteries,
but I could find little literature on the subjects of village Buddhism,
domestic rituals and the practices of Tibetan shamans. Sikkim, where
the Lhopos’ religious culture had remained fairly undisturbed, seemed
like an ideal location for the study of village religion.
It is thanks to the efforts of Captain Yongda of Pemayangtse and
the family of the late Executive Councillor Netuk Lama that I received
my first one-year permit for Sikkim, a very difficult thing to obtain in
those early days. I will forever be indebted to Captain Yongda and his
wife Chumla, as well as to Pema Namgyal, his late mother Mrs Netuk
Lama and his wife Aie Chumden for all the help, trust, patience and
hospitality they extended to me over the years.
Armed with my first long-term permit and assisted by my good friend
Tashi Wangdi, I started fieldwork at the end of 1993 in Nako-Chong-
pung village near Pemayangtse monastery. Working in Chongpung
proved difficult for unrelated reasons and, with the help of Sonam Tinley
of the Namgyal Institute of Tibetology, I eventually moved to Tingchim
village in North Sikkim, where I met Lopen Dugyal, a lama who was to
have a great influence on the unfolding of my project. Lopen Dugyal
became my teacher, informant, research assistant, translator and friend.
We worked together, in his village of Tingchim as well as in Gangtok,
from March 1994 until December 1995, with two additional field trips
to Tingchim in May and December 1996. My debt and gratitude to
him is enormous as he patiently guided me nearly every step of the way
and introduced me to the village’s conceptual world. Tingchim proved
to be a fascinating village as, unlike most villages in Sikkim, it still had
a number of shamans working together with village lamas. It was an
ideal site for a study of the religion of the common people.
It would be impossible for me to mention by name all the people in
Sikkim who helped over the years. My gratitude goes first to the villagers
of Tingchim, who welcomed me, answered my questions, tolerated my
xiv original preface and acknowledgments

presence in difficult circumstances and were generally patient enough

with the demands of an anthropologist. I would like to thank the
descendants of Dugda Mandal, the family of Ani (Tashi Lhamo) and
Ajang (Kiaktsing), in whose house I stayed during the period of field-
work. Their son Maila (Rabden) became my second research assistant,
while his wife Atic and brother Saila (Sungrap) cooked and, along with
Palzor and all the other children and cousins, generally made me feel
at home while a guest in their house. The family of Lopen Dugyal,
the descendants of Inchung Tsomi, have been of considerable help,
especially his brother Norbu, who contributed many valuable insights.
I would also like to thank Mr. Karma from Mangan, Tingchim’s Pan-
chayat vice-president, and to remember the late Mintok Tang Ajo as
well as the late Lakchung, who first welcomed me in Tingchim.
The participation of Tingchim’s ritual specialists was crucial in mak-
ing this project a success. Ritual specialists in Sikkim are not generally
inclined to share their knowledge with outsiders, particularly women
coming from a foreign land. I am especially indebted to the Tingchim
Bongthing, who always made me feel welcome at his rituals. His kindness
will always be remembered. The same goes to the late Tsam Khang
Ajo, the late Tingchim Pawo Nadu, the late Tingchim Ana Nejum,
the late Sesung Gomchen and the Seyam Nejum. I remember them all
as unique ritual specialists. Among the lamas, many were helpful, but
I would particularly like to thank Pema Choden, Rigi, Nima Norbu,
Rabjung and Chyuri.
While the names of most people and places have not been concealed,
some villagers’ names have not been revealed. The project made it
impossible always to mention people in the best of circumstances, and
when a matter was particularly sensitive, names were changed outright.
Tingchim villagers, however, will know whom I am referring to and I
sincerely apologise if I have offended anyone. It is my hope that I will
be forgiven and that they will understand that all aspects of village life,
the good and the bad, have to be included for this work to be complete.
I would also like to apologise for any misrepresentation; any mistakes
should be considered entirely as my own.
In Gangtok and elsewhere in the state, numerous people helped me.
My deep appreciation goes to Pema Namgyal, Sonam Paljor, Chum
Chukie Topden and Sonam Wangdi, who initiated me into the Sik-
kimese way of thinking and its politics in a most unusual way. Together
they successfully fought against the construction of a hydro-electric
power station which would have destroyed the abode of Sikkim’s pro-
 original preface and acknowledgments xv

tective deities. During the four intensive months of the campaign, all
openly shared their views, hopes and frustrations and worked together as
a team. Truth often comes out in moments of crisis, and I now realise
that what I learned during these four months is just as important as, or
at least complements my understanding of, life in the village.
Others in Gangtok I would like to thank are the late Rechung
Rinpoche, the late T.S. Gyaltsen, Tashi Densapa, Chumden Nangpa
and her staff at the State Archives, Khenpo Lha Tsering, the late Dr
Rigzing Ngodup Dokhampa and his nephew Sonam Tinley, Norden
Tshering, the late Khyaliram Singhi and the late Ganju Lama VC. MM.
And most importantly, the Sikkim Government officials who helped
me obtain the necessary permits: ex-Chief Secretaries P.K. Pradhan,
Varadhan and Sonam Wangdi, as well as Tsegyal Tashi, Namrata
Thapa and T.T. Bhutia. Tsegyal Tashi is particularly remembered for
his patience and understanding in dealing with what seemed like my
never-ending demands for permit extensions.
Prince Jigdal Namgyal, the late Chogyal’s brother, his wife Lacham
Kusho Sonam Yangchen of Namseling and his son Ponpo Jigmela
initially welcomed me to Sikkim in January 1991 and were extremely
kind and supportive during fieldwork. I am grateful to Chimi Thonden,
Lacham Kusho’s niece from New York, who introduced me to her aunt.
A special thank you goes to Semla, Princess Hope Leezum Namgyal,
the youngest daughter of the late Chogyal Palden Thondup Namgyal.
Semla was not only encouraging during fieldwork, she also gave me
the keys to Rhenock House in Gangtok and thus provided me with a
home where I could peacefully work on the final draft at a moment in
my life when I needed it most.
Among my first teachers, I would like to mention the late Gorlok
Tulku, who taught me some basics of Tibetan Buddhism, as well as
Genjong Rinpoche and Khenpo Chowang, who were equally helpful,
each in his own way. Lachen Rinpoche has been a constant source of
inspiration during all these years of researching, writing and living in
Sikkim. By their mere presence, Dodrupchen Rinpoche and the late
Khandrola of Chorten monastery, as well as Khandro Khyentse Tsering
Choden at the Palace chapel, were constant sources of inspiration.
Funding for the pre-fieldwork year spent at the School of Oriental
and African Studies (SOAS) in London was initially provided by the
FCAR of Québec (Fonds pour la formation de chercheurs et l’aide à la
recherche). Fieldwork and writing were generously funded by the Social
Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada, the Frederick
xvi original preface and acknowledgments

Williamson Memorial Fund, Cambridge University, and an Additional

Fieldwork Award, School of Oriental and African Studies.
At the Université de Montréal, where this project was born, many
extended their help. Deirdre Meintel gave me the necessary confidence
to embark upon graduate studies; Jean-Claude Muller’s lectures inspired
me enough to want to become an anthropologist, and Madame Duples-
sis helped with administrative matters so that it could actually happen.
Catherine Lussier’s rock solid friendship came to my rescue more than
once over the years. In London, Sabine Pusch’s constant friendship and
hospitality has meant so much to me. Alex Gabbay found Tingchim
in the first place; Maria Phylactou read some of the chapters and was
always of great support before and after fieldwork; and Charles Ramble
at Oxford encouraged me to write about Sikkim’s mountain deity.
At SOAS, Mark Hobart’s fascinating lectures had a considerable
influence on my approach to fieldwork. My deepest gratitude goes to
my thesis supervisor, Lionel Caplan, who undoubtedly provided the
greatest support over the years. Without his unfailing patience and help,
even after he retired, the research process would never have unfolded
as it did nor this thesis seen the light of day.
My father, Asen Balikci, has always been the greatest inspiration.
As a child, I remember him coming back from the Arctic, where, in
my mind, he spent most of his time hunting, kayaking and eating raw
seal meat with a band of Eskimos. Later, when leaving for Afghanistan,
where he worked among the Pashtoon nomads of the Hindu Kush, it
was my greatest wish to accompany him to what seemed like the most
interesting place on earth. Instead, we visited Pomak villages in the Bul-
garian mountains, where I first became fascinated with other cultures.
Later, my mother Véréna Ossent introduced me to the Himalayas at
the perfect time in my life. Both my parents have been of immense
support in so many ways over the years. My husband Jigme Dorje
Denjongpa has been immensely patient. His support has been total in
helping me complete this work, which also means so much to him. At
home, Amla, Tshering Choden and Loday have patiently put up with
a daughter-in-law who spends much of her time behind a computer
instead of being a normal Sikkimese nam.

Tathangchen, Sikkim
January 2002
 A NOTE ON THE TEXT

The language of the Lhopo is a southern Tibetan dialect variously

called Lhoke, Denjongke, Bhutia or simply Sikkimese which is written
using the Tibetan alphabet. When reproducing Sikkimese words, I have
simply spelled them the way I heard them. Their romanised Tibetan
spelling is given in parentheses at their first appearance in the text fol-
lowing the Wylie system of transliteration (Wylie 1959). No distinction
has been made between Lhoke and Tibetan terms. It is sometimes
difficult for Lhoke-speakers themselves to make a distinction, and both
languages are often used together in a single sentence, especially when
referring to ritual. Until recently, Lhoke was a spoken dialect, and
both Tibetan language and script were used when writing was neces-
sary. In the 1980s, a simplified script was developed for Lhoke using
the Tibetan alphabet. No adequate Lhoke dictionary is yet available
and thus, the orthography of many terms reproduced here remains
arbitrary. A glossary of recurrent words and their spellings is provided
at the end. Foreign words have been italicised while proper names of
places, people and deities appear in Roman characters.
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Maps

1. Map 1: Sikkim ..................................................................... xxi

2. Map 2: Tingchim village and the Phodong Estate (1929) ... 52

Photographs

1. Tingchim village .................................................................. 6

2. The Nyingma monastery of Labrang ................................. 7
3. Lopen Dugyal Acharya Bhutia ........................................... 34
4. Tsam Khang Ajo ................................................................. 45
5. Tingchim’s prayer hall or mani lhakhang .............................. 58
6. Village lamas performing an annual ritual ......................... 59
7. Healing ritual by the Tingchim pawo .................................. 129
8. Offering ritual by the bongthing ............................................. 138
9. Metok Tang Ajo .................................................................. 139
10. The Seyam nejum in trance .................................................. 148
11. The Tingchim nejum ............................................................ 151
12. The pawo and the bongthing officiating together ................... 154
13. Elder Limbu tenant farmer ................................................. 180
14. Cleaning the cardamom plants ........................................... 182
15. Drying the cardamom harvest over a wood fire ................ 184
16. Women’s working group transplanting rice seedlings ......... 186
17. Men’s working group threshing the rice harvest ................ 187
18. Harvesting wheat ................................................................. 190
19. Threshing the winter harvest of wheat ............................... 191
20. Harvest altar prepared by the pawo for the pho lha
mo lha .................................................................................... 193
21. Harvest altar prepared by the bongthing for the ajo anyo ...... 196
22. The Sesung Gomchen performing the Kongso harvest
ritual ..................................................................................... 200
23. All three altars: the lama’s, the bongthing’s and
the pawo’s .............................................................................. 203
24. The Nesol altar ..................................................................... 210
xx list of illustrations

25. Dan Bahadur Tamang and visiting Tamang lama ............. 232
26. Lamas’ demonstration in Gangtok ...................................... 240
27. A large traditional wooden house in Tingchim .................. 246
28. A new house with a wooden frame and cemented walls ... 249
29. Tashi Lhamo ........................................................................ 251
30. A simple wedding in Tingchim ........................................... 263
31. Preparation of meat distribution for the wedding guests ... 264
32. The altar of an elaborate domestic Buddhist ritual ........... 267
33. Phodong monastery’s annual ritual cham dances ................ 315
34. The Palace chapel or Tsuglakhang at Gangtok ................. 317
35. The Palace at Gangtok ........................................................ 319
36. Village lamas reading scriptures .......................................... 321
37. The pawo wearing the ri-nga ................................................ 348
38. The pawo wearing the bätö woollen crown .......................... 352
39. The pawo and the details of the tsamche retreat altar ......... 356
Map 1: Sikkim
PART I: THE SETTING
 CHAPTER ONE

INTRODUCTION

This is a study of ritual within a community variously referred to as

Bhutia, Lhopo or Denjongpa in the agricultural village of Tingchim
in North Sikkim.1 It is intended as a contribution to the anthropology
of Himalayan Buddhist communities and to the discussion concerning
the relation between Buddhism and shamanism. This study explores the
rituals and working relations of Buddhist lamas and shamans2 within
the wider context of village life, taking into consideration the sacred
history of the land as well as its more recent political and economic
transformation.
Shamanic rituals held by various specialists among Tibetan Buddhist
communities such as the Sherpas and the Ladakhis usually have either
disappeared under the influence of forms of Buddhism that did not
support such worldly practices or have been absorbed into the hierar-
chy of the Buddhist monasteries. The pawo (dpa’ bo) and the nejum (rnal
’byor ma), the male and female shamans of the Sikkimese Lhopo, have
remained independent of the Buddhist establishment and, for the most
part, were neither suppressed nor greatly influenced by the lamas. In
Tingchim, they perform their rituals side by side with non-celibate vil-
lage lamas, usually independently but on some rare occasions, jointly.
Considering that shamans, also called spirit-mediums or oracles, among
Tibetan Buddhist communities have been portrayed as rivals of the
lamas (Mumford 1989), in need of being tamed or domesticated (Day
1990), campaigned against by the celibate lamas (Ortner 1995) or at
least tested and blessed (Berglie 1979, 1982), the independence of the
Sikkimese pawo and nejum, and the tolerance the village lamas have
shown them, may seem unusual.

1
Variations in ritual procedure, terminology and all aspects of culture between
Lhopo villages in Sikkim can be significant from a Sikkimese viewpoint. Unless otherwise
specified, all material presented here applies to Tingchim village and is not intended
to be representative of the Lhopo community as a whole.
2
My choice of the word shaman is explained later in this chapter.
4 chapter one

Buddhism, which firmly established itself in Sikkim in the seventeenth

century, initially absorbed the cult of ancestral gods and local deities
which eventually became central to the performance of rituals cur-
rently held by both village lamas and shamans. I argue that this shared
conceptual view of reality, well rooted in the sacred topography and
history of the land, is at the base of their amiable coexistence. So strong
is this shared worldview, which links the body, the territory, society and
the supernatural, that village lamas and shamans in Tingchim have
at times together ignored reformist Buddhist ideas that have perme-
ated into the village in recent decades, the most significant being the
question of propitiatory animal sacrifice. Thus, contrary to how the
lama-shaman relation has generally been presented in the literature,
the situation in Tingchim suggests that viewing it as a dichotomy may
be misleading. In her discussion about the relationalism of shamanism
versus the individualism of Buddhism among the Sherpas, Ortner (1995)
has indeed demonstrated that a simple dual analysis may hide at least
as much as it reveals. Although the Buddhist project and its production
of a non-relational self does exist and has been analysed by Adams in
the context of Tibetan society (1992), instead of focusing on this binary
opposition and the details of this process, or how Buddhist thought is
pushing the shamans out of business, I chose to explore how and why
the relational worldview refuses to die despite an obvious decline in
Lhopo shamanistic practice per se.
Tingchim villagers’ worldview revealed itself best during the perfor-
mance of curing rituals where the working relations of village lamas
and shamans could be witnessed along with the influence knowledgeable
outside lamas and Rinpoches have had on their practice. Not only do
these moments of crisis reveal villagers’ ritual preferences, the necessity
to save people’s lives provides the ritual specialists with the license to
join hands and perform rituals that would, under normal circumstances,
be considered unacceptable by orthodox Buddhist lamas. These rituals
in turn best illustrate to what extent the ancestral gods and the local
deities are thought to link people’s actions to the land, the body, the
household, the lineage, the village and the state. I argue that this rela-
tional or shamanic worldview is so fundamental to the Sikkimese way
of thinking that it underpins the lama-shaman duality. A number of
historical, political and economic developments have contributed to the
endurance of the shamanic worldview in Tingchim, which now seems
to be maintained by the central importance attributed to household
rituals as opposed to those held at the Buddhist monastery. Community
 introduction 5

membership entails mandatory participation in a number of domestic

rituals, the performance of which indirectly sustains the amiable co-
existence of shamanism and Buddhism at the village level.
This study thus asks why village lamas seem uninterested in eradi-
cating, or at least controlling, the shamans’ practices in the way that
Tibetan Buddhist lamas generally advocate. And why villagers’ rela-
tional or shamanic view of the universe seems to endure despite a
decline in shamanic practices? In the process of seeking answers to
these questions, I have tried to gain some understanding of people’s
ordering of their own world, its basic premises and the articulation of
its various realms.

1. Basic concepts and terms

Sikkim was an independent Himalayan Buddhist kingdom, founded in

16423 by Tibetan Nyingma (rNying ma) lamas and ruled by the Nam-
gyal dynasty, a monarchy of Tibetan origin. It became a protectorate
of the British Government in 1890 and was integrated into the Union
of India in May 1975, simultaneously putting an end to the rule of
the Chogyals.4 Sikkim is a small mountainous state squeezed between
Nepal, Bhutan, West Bengal and Tibet. There is not a single stretch of
flat land and altitudes vary from a few hundred metres above sea level
to the world’s third highest peak, Mount Kangchendzönga at 8,585
metres. Agriculture is the basis of Sikkim’s economy and is the world’s
main producer of large cardamom.5 The ethnic composition of Sikkim’s
half million inhabitants is extremely varied considering that Sikkim is
a tiny state of about 70 by 110 kilometres and that twenty percent of
its territory lies under perpetual snow. The Anthropological Survey of
India has documented twenty-five different communities that can be
grouped in three main categories: (1) Bhutias (Lhopos) and Lepchas,
the original inhabitants of Sikkim who now represent less than 20% of
Sikkim’s total population; (2) people of Nepalese origin, mainly Lim-
bus and Rais, who started migrating to Sikkim in large numbers from
the 1870s and who now represent more than 75% of the population;

3
This date is still disputed. See Mullard (2003 and 2005a).
4
Chogyal is the title of the Sikkimese kings. From Tibetan chos, Dharma and rgyal
po, king, or the one who rules according to religion.
5
Sikkim produces close to 70% of the world’s production of the large cardamom.
6 chapter one

and (3) people from the plains of India, mainly Marwaris, Biharis and
Bengalis who are a small although rapidly growing minority of mer-
chants and service castes.
Tibetan settlers came to Sikkim from the neighbouring valleys of
Chumbi and Ha and regions beyond these southern valleys such as
Kham Minyak from the thirteenth century onwards and established
the kingdom in 1642. Their descendants call themselves Lhopo (lho
pa—‘people from the south’) but are generally known as Bhutia,6 Sik-
kimese or even Denjongpas, the people of Denjong or Demojong (’Bras
mo ljongs—‘the fruitful valley’, often translated as the ‘valley of rice’).
Since the term ‘Bhutia’ can also refer to any Buddhist highlander liv-
ing in the Himalayas, and ‘Sikkimese’ may be confusing considering
that the Lhopos are now a minority in the state, I will refer to them
as Lhopo, which is the term they themselves prefer.

Plate 1: Tingchim village

6
According to the Indian Constitution, Sikkimese Lhopos are referred to as ‘Bhu-
tias’, a generic term spelt in various ways such as Bhutiya, Bhotia, Bhote (from bod,
Tibet). The term is confusing as it may refer to any Buddhist highlander residing in
the Himalayas, from Ladakh to Arunachal Pradesh, who speaks some dialect of the
Tibetan language.
 introduction 7

Tingchim is an agricultural village of 54 corporate Lhopo households.

Its 265 Lhopo villagers are organised in ten exogamous patrilineages
that have little purpose beyond regulating marriages. The majority are
descendants of migrants from the adjacent valleys of Chumbi (Tibet)
and Ha (Bhutan) who came to Sikkim between 200 and 400 years ago.
The village is located in Sikkim’s North District, some 53 kilometres
north-west of the state capital of Gangtok along the highway that leads
to the high valleys of Lachen and Lachung (see map 1). It lies on the
eastern bank of the river Teesta at an altitude of 1,300 metres and is
part of a group of a dozen Lhopo and Lepcha villages centred around
the Kagyud (bKa’ brgyud) monastery of Phodong and the Nyingma
monasteries of Labrang and Phensang (see map 2). Tingchim faces the
Lepcha reservation of Dzongu,7 located on the opposite bank of the
river Teesta where Geoffrey Gorer carried out fieldwork in Lingthem
in 1937 (Gorer 1938).

Plate 2: The Nyingma monastery of Labrang located 15 km. south

of Tingchim

7
Dzongu was a Private Estate of the Palace (Gyalmo’s or Queen’s Estate), which
was made into a Lepcha reserve by Sir Tashi Namgyal where, to the present day, non-
Lepchas may not settle permanently or become landowners.
8 chapter one

Since the focus is on Lhopo ritual, I have limited myself to the group
of Lhopo households defined through ritual obligation and centred
around the village’s prayer hall even though this may not correspond to
the actual population of Tingchim village as an administrative division.
Thus, this study includes all of Tingchim’s Lhopo households but not
the large number of Nepali-speaking tenant farmers settled within the
administrative division known as Tingchim Revenue Block. These tenant
farmers, who started settling on Lhopo land within Tingchim Block in
the early 1960s, are discussed in chapters 2 and 6 in the context of their
relations with Lhopo landowners. The group of Lhopo households is
also linked through the exchange of emergency help and corresponds
to the members who are entitled to attend village meetings, since only
landowners may be represented and participate in the village’s deci-
sion process. Although a number of the tenant farmers of Nepalese
origin settled within Tingchim Revenue Block are Indian citizens with
a right to vote, they are not considered fully-fledged village members
by the Lhopos as they do not have any rights to ownership of protected
Bhutia (Lhopo) and Lepcha land.8 Thus, when referring to Tingchim
‘village’ or ‘villagers’, I am only referring to the landowning Lhopos
who were coterminous with the whole of Tingchim village’s population
until the early 1960s. While the ethnographic focus is on Tingchim’s
Lhopo population, I am aware that the village cannot be a bounded
sociological unit, and that villagers are linked in various ways to people
in other villages, towns, religious centres, and places beyond Sikkim.
However, some of these links are addressed when discussing the village’s
changing relations with the outside world in chapter 11.
The lack of anthropological literature based on long-term field
research among the Lhopos has contributed to them being perhaps
misrepresented through the writings of aristocratic and Buddhist elites.
Such misrepresentation also came about indirectly, through the publica-
tion of a series of monographs that focused exclusively on the Lepchas
(Gorer 1938, Morris 1938, Siiger 1967, Foning 1987, Gowloog 1995),
on the relation between the Bhutias (Lhopos) and the Lepchas centred
around the monastery (Nakane 1966), or more recently, on the socio-

8
Article 371F of the Constitution of India protects old Sikkimese laws such as
Land Revenue Order No. 1 of 1917 that precludes the sale of Bhutia (Lhopo) and
Lepcha land to any other ethnic community, including to Sikkimese of recent Tibetan
or Bhutanese origin (Land Revenue Department Notification No. 28/L.R. dated 21st
April 1969).
 introduction 9

politics of the state and its history (Basnet 1974, Sinha 1975, Rose
1978, Sengupta 1985). These writings have contributed to maintaining
an image of the Lhopos as an aristocratic Tibetan Buddhist population
that arrived, built monasteries and converted the indigenous Lepchas.
But they omit to acknowledge the existence of the commoner Lhopo
villagers who had a very limited understanding of Buddhism and lived
in villages far removed from the six premier monasteries of the state9
and the Palace that were the centres of religious and, to some extent,
political power.
Tingchim was such a village where until the end of the nineteenth
century, every patrilineage had its own shaman responsible for the
lineage and its households’ ritual needs. Although villagers considered
themselves Buddhists, there were no lamas in Tingchim until 1910
and people were dependent on shamans and other ritual specialists
(see below) who officiated at all rituals performed for the benefit of
the individual, the household, the lineage or the village. Tingchim lay
on the northern edge of the Phodong ‘parish’, the closest monastery,
which acted as centre for local administration and tax collection dur-
ing the time of the kingdom, and where no men from Tingchim were
lamas until the 1930s. The Phodong monastery was only visited once
a year by Tingchim villagers on the occasion of its annual monastic
cham (’cham) dances held just before Losung (lo bsrung), the Sikkimese
farmer’s New Year that falls on the first day of the eleventh month of
the lunar calendar. Buddhism then gradually took over as the main ritual
practice of the village in three distinctive phases, which are discussed
in the following chapter.
Today rituals are performed in Tingchim by three types of ritual spe-
cialists: (1) the non-celibate village lamas, both Kagyud and Nyingma;10
(2) the pawo and the nejum, the male and female shamans of the Lhopos;

9
The most important monasteries of Sikkim are Pemayangtse, Tashiding and Phen-
sang for the Nyingmapa, and Rumtek (not to be confused with the Karmapa’s Dharma
Chakra Centre also located at Rumtek), Ralang and Phodong for the Kagyudpa. The
premier monastery is Pemayangtse as it was responsible for the performance of the
Chogyals’ coronations and other royal rituals such as the annual monastic dances
performed at the Palace chapel in Gangtok.
10
Strictly speaking, the use of the term ‘lama’ in this context is incorrect as this
term is normally reserved for particularly learned Buddhist ritual specialists. Two
terms are normally used in the village: an initiated lama will be called a grwa pa
bsgris pa or simply a drapo (grwa pa), i.e. a lama who has accepted the discipline of the
Sangha and is now a full member of the lama-community of his village. Before his
initiation, a student is referred to by the term chopo (chos pa), or a man of Dharma. I
10 chapter one

and (3) the bongthing, a specialist who performs the offering rituals for the
supernatural beings of the locality. The pawo and the nejum specialise in
maintaining good relations with the pho lha mo lha (father god, mother
god), the Lhopos’ ancestors and lineage protectors through posses-
sion and offering rituals while the bongthing, who never gets possessed,
maintains good relations with the ambiguous supernatural beings who
inhabit the local territory. On very rare occasions, he may still do so
through the offering of an animal sacrifice.11 When Tingchim did not
yet have Buddhist lamas, villagers relied on an additional religious spe-
cialist called nagshang (sngags ’chang—‘the holder of tantra knowledge’)
who was said to have mastered Buddhism’s tantric powers as well as
the ritual skills of the bongthing and the pawo that did not require pos-
session. The nagshang was feared by villagers as he was not bound by
the ethical principles of Buddhism, which meant that his ritual powers
could also be used to cause harm.
Although the village lamas, the pawo/nejum and the bongthing each have
their own particular altar and annual calendrical rituals, the meeting
ground for all remains the curing of illness, which is done by taking
control of the supernatural beings who inhabit the landscape and who,
more often than not, have been diagnosed through divination (mo) as
being the cause of someone’s suffering. Unlike the Buddhist deities and
the pho lha mo lha, these local supernatural beings are considered wild
or only partly tamed and for this reason are considered ambiguous. On
the one hand, they may have beneficial supernatural powers for which
they are propitiated, but on the other hand, they may also be easily
provoked and bring illness and misfortune to villagers or even sent to
implement curses or maledictions. In Tingchim, they are referred to
by the general term nöpa (gnod pa), those inclined to cause obstructions,
damage or trouble. Taking control of these forces is the main object
of everyone’s ritual practice and in villagers’ eyes, the measuring stick
of their ritual powers. To accomplish this, the pawo, the nejum and the
bongthing will draw their ritual powers and protection from the pho lha
mo lha, while the village lamas will draw theirs from the supra-worldly

have nevertheless kept the use of the term lama or lama-student to refer to the village’s
drapo and chopo because of its widely accepted use in English publications.
11
The bongthing’s role in Tingchim is reminiscent of that of the lha bon of the Khumbo
in east Nepal, a priest specialised in the worship of clan and land deities (Diemberger
1997), the lha bon of Baragaon in southern Mustang and that of the a ya in central
Tibet who are equally responsible for the propitiation of local gods and the making
of ‘red’ offerings (Ramble 1996, 1998, 2008).
 introduction 11

deities of Tibetan Buddhism. These ambiguous nöpa are thought to

have forgotten their oath of submission (dam tshig) to the Dharma
sworn before Guru Rinpoche (Padmasambhava) and to have returned
to their untamed or unbound state (dam nyams). This regression is said
to have occurred because, in the distant past, the villagers’ forefathers
succumbed to the practice of animal sacrifice with the hope of saving
the lives of sick relatives. Now that these wild supernatural beings have
been spoiled by the offerings of blood, lamas, pawo/nejum and bongthing
invoke their respective pantheon and methods with the hope of pacify-
ing the wrath of these beings during curing rituals.
Tingchim villagers collectively refer to the ritual knowledge of the
pawo, nejum, nagshang and bongthing as bon, or more precisely as lhabon
(lha bon) if it is concerned with the protective pho lha mo lha, and as
drebon (’dre bon)12 if it is concerned with honouring or appeasing the
ambivalent local supernatural beings thought to be responsible for
misfortunes of all kinds. In Tingchim, the term bon refers to specific
oral ritual texts that are chanted and considered to be the core of the
bon specialists’ ritual knowledge. It may also refer to knowledge that has
been imparted directly from the supernatural either during possession
rituals in case of the pawo or nejum, or through visions or dreams in
the case of the bongthing.13
Previously, the Lhopo bongthing used to be referred to in Tingchim
as bon ban14 or the ‘the one who can recite the oral texts of bon’. In the
course of time, as the bon ban included more and more supernatural
beings of Lepcha name and origin in his rituals and as he gradually
forgot his own bon texts, the bon ban’s ritual performance increasingly
held in Lepcha style, led him to being referred to as ‘bongthing’ instead of
bon ban or bon ban bongthing by the Lhopos, the term bongthing referring to

12
The rituals of lhabon are called lhachö (lha mchod) and their corresponding white
offerings karchö (dkar mchod) since they usually consist of white items such as rice. The
rituals of drebon (’dre bon) are called drechö (’dre mchod) and their red or black offerings
marchö (dmar mchod) or nachö (nag mchod) since they would consist of red blood or meat
and black torma (gtor ma—conical dough offerings) made of dark grain such as millet.
13
This local definition of bon is similar to the probable etymology suggested by
Diemberger when referring to the lha bon, a ritual specialist of Khumbo not far from
Sikkim in eastern Nepal. In this case bon is thought to mean ‘to pray, to chant’ (Diem-
berger 1989: 424).
14
Bon ban is the reversal of the more usual form ban bon, ‘Buddhist and Bon priests’
(ban is an abbreviation of ban dhe, from Sk. vandya). However, Jäschke’s entry for ban
bon includes the definition ‘a Bon-priest’, in which case, however, the word probably
would be bon ban.
12 chapter one

the male ritual specialist of the Lepcha. However, the Lhopo bongthing’s
ritual practice is not to be confused or equated with that of the Lepcha
bongthing. In Tingchim, his rituals are held in honour of a large num-
ber of supernatural beings that are not shared by the Lepchas, and
he is equally qualified as a pawo to perform the offering rituals to the
pho lha mo lha in the houses of those who do not require the medium-
ship services of the pawo at that particular moment. It should also be
noted that the ritual practice of the Lepcha bongthing is not considered
a Tibetan bon tradition by the Lhopos. And perhaps more importantly,
while the Lepcha bongthing does induce spirits, both the Lhopo bon ban
and bongthing never get possessed.
Although Atso, the present Tingchim bongthing no longer remembers
the oral texts of bon, his father Ajo Bongthing had a large repertoire.15
Bon ban are now very rare in Sikkim and I was told that a woman bon
ban still performed in the village of Phensang. She only chants the oral
texts of bon at night and will have to close the curtains if a divination
is urgently required during the day.
The term bon has come to refer to at least four different religions
corresponding to different periods of Tibetan history. Per Kverne has
suggested the following definitions and historical model: bon as (1) an
autochthonous, ‘pre-Buddhist’ Tibetan religion, (2) an organised cult,
perhaps focusing on the person of the king; this would correspond to
the ‘court religion’ both of Zhang-zhung and of Tibet, (3) a contem-
porary ‘folk religion’ or a ‘religion without name’ which has often been
styled Bon in Western literature but is never thus referred to in Tibetan,
(4) the post-eleventh century, organised and eventually monastic Bon
religion (2000: 17).
In the context of Tingchim, we are concerned with bon as (1) an
autochtonous ‘pre-Buddhist’ religion, which, as Kvaerne points out, has
to be reconstructed entirely a posteriori, and (3) the contemporary ‘folk
religion’, and the possible relations between both. Contrary to what
Kvaerne noted, Tingchim’s contemporary folk religion is referred to
by Tingchim villagers as bon in their own Sikkimese dialect of Tibetan.
Thus, despite the term’s numerous and sometimes confusing definitions,
I will use the term bon to refer to Tingchim’s ‘folk religion’ (Tucci 1980),

15
Ajo Bongthing passed away in 1985. We will see in chapter 11 that these oral
texts of bon are originally Tibetan and thus have no relation with the ritual practice
of the Lepcha bongthing.
 introduction 13

or what has also been termed ‘nameless religion’ (Stein 1972) or ‘pagan
tradition’ (Ramble 1998: 124) since this is the term used by the villagers
themselves. Supporting this choice is the fact that Tingchim villagers
recognise Tonpa Shenrab, the founder of Bon, and give him a place
on their altars erected in honour of the pho lha mo lha, the ancestral
gods and lineage protectors. One could also add that bon as practised
in Tingchim is closely related to some aspects of the first three of the
Nine Ways of Bon (Snellgrove 1967: 9–10): (1) divination and medical
diagnosis, (2) rituals for the ambiguous deities of this world, and (3)
techniques for destroying enemies.
However, despite the presence of Shenrab16 on Tingchim’s altars, bon
as practised in Tingchim should not simply be perceived as the survival
of an archaic form of pre-Buddhist ritual practice but primarily as a
living tradition concerned with this-worldly matters in terms of health
and fertility, which has evolved in interaction with Buddhism and the
ritual specialists of neighbouring ethnic communities such as the Lep-
chas, the Limbus and the Bhutanese.17 Specific elements that could link
Tingchim’s bon rituals to ancient Tibetan traditions will be discussed
when these arise in later chapters. Interestingly, Nebesky-Wojkowitz
had also noted that the Sikkimese pawo and nejum
are regarded by the Buddhists as typical representatives of the Bon
creed. Actually, they seem to be a remnant of the earlier, unorganised
Bon (1956: 425).
And as Bellezza noted:
the spirit-mediums are vibrant testimony of an alternative or Bon para-
digm of Tibetan culture, one that is conceived of as being anchored in
the pre-Imperial history of the Plateau (2005: 2).

16
The presence of Shenrab may also be witnessed in non-Buddhist rituals in Bhutan
(Lham Dorji 2004).
17
The term bon or rather bon chos is equally used in Bhutan as a generic term to refer
to non-Buddhist rituals held for local deities. As in Sikkim, bon chos rituals in Bhutan
are performed with the hope of bringing prosperity and fertility in this life while Bud-
dhism is considered to help people get a better rebirth in their next life (Pommaret,
2004). The Bhutanese equivalent of the Lhopo bongthing (previously bon ban) would be
the bon po who propitiates local deities in case of sickness and recites the verses of
bon during calendrical offering rituals for the community (see the articles in Yawo yawo:
voices from the past published by the Centre for Bhutan Studies, 2004, for examples of
these rituals). The equivalent of the Sikkimese pawo and nejum in Bhutan are called
dpa’ bo and dpa’ mo, the latter also being referred to as rnal ’byor ma in Western Bhutan
(Pommaret 1998).
14 chapter one

Ritual specialists similar to the pawo and the nejum present among other
Tibetan and Himalayan Buddhist populations have variously been
referred to as ‘spirit-mediums’ (Berglie 1983, Bellezza 2005), ‘oracles’
(Prince Peter 1978, Day 1990), ‘intercessors’ ( Jest 1976) and ‘shamans’
(Adams 1992, Ortner 1995, Holmberg 1989, Fürer-Haimendorf 1955).
I have chosen to use the term shaman when referring to Tingchim’s
pawo and the nejum, despite the confusion which seems to be surrounding
this term in anthropology, for two related reasons concerned with the
concepts of ‘soul flight’ and ‘master of spirits’, two aspects commonly
associated with classical North Asian shamanism. The term shaman
probably originated from the Tungus language and as Reinhard (1976:
14) explains, it had already been clearly defined by Shirokogoroff in
1935 (p. 269):
[i]n all Tungus languages this term refers to persons of both sexes who
have mastered spirits, who at their will can introduce these spirits into
themselves and use their power over the spirits in their own interests,
particularly helping other people, who suffer from the spirits. . . .
Later, Eliade chose to limit the definition to the notion of soul flight:
the shaman specialized in a trance during which his soul is believed
to leave his body and ascend to the sky or descend to the underworld
(1964: 5).
As Reinhard explains, the discrepancy between both definitions in the
Tungus context
is due to Eliade’s ‘historical’ interpretation which is supposed to show that
the soul journey aspect in prior times was of primary importance among
Tungus and spirit possession was a later development (1976: 14).
Interestingly, not only did the Sikkimese pawo and nejum I worked with
introduce spirits into their body in a controlled manner in order to
use the latter’s powers to help others as defined by Shirokogoroff, they
were not unfamiliar with the notion of soul flight or what they called
the ability to ‘travel on wind’ to the deities’ abode and the land of the
dead located in the high mountains between Sikkim and Tibet. They
travelled to the deities’ sacred abodes in order to consult them on mat-
ters of divination and ritual healing and returned with a description of
these abodes and the ‘house’ where villagers’ ancestors reside. Although
this ability was once shared by all pawo and nejum of Sikkim, it has
now been forgotten by most and I only heard of one living Lepcha
nejum residing in Singhik, north of Mangan, who claimed to be able
 introduction 15

to travel on wind to the deities’ abode. Malag Ajo Pawo, the father of
Pawo Nadu, the present Tingchim pawo, was famous for this ability
and could bring back descriptions of the deities’ palaces. He would
start every séance with the chanting of a bon oral text, The Bon [Story]
of the Deer with the Eight-Branched Antlers (Bon shwa ba’i rwa brgyad)18 and
‘wind’ would then take him to the abode of the supernatural beings
and the sacred locations of Sikkim, such as Tashiding, Pemayangtse
and Rabdentsi, where the deities are said to reside. Thus until recently,
the pawo and nejum of Sikkim were shamans, even in Eliade’s limited
sense of the term.
Raymond Firth distinguishes the spirit-medium from the shaman
as follows:
[s]pirit mediumship is normally a form of possession in which the person
is conceived as serving as an intermediary between spirits and men. The
accent here is on communication; the actions and words of the medium
must be translatable, which differentiates them from mere spirit posses-
sion or madness. Shamanism is a term I prefer to use in the limited North
Asiatic sense, as a master of spirits (1959: 141).
As we have seen, Shirokogoroff himself considered this to be the
shaman’s ability to introduce spirits at will into himself and use their
power. It could thus be understood as the shaman’s ability to control
spirits rather than being controlled by them. We will see that although
the Tingchim pawo does act as a spirit-medium, or as a communicator
for spirits and in a way as their servant, it would be wrong to reduce
him to this limited role. It is said that the pawo introduces these spirits
into his body in a controlled manner thanks to the help of his personal
guardian deity and that of his kabab (bka’ bab), the spirit of his predeces-
sor, the previous pawo of his own spiritual lineage. Indeed, a pawo is only
officially initiated once he has started mastering the art of regulating
his trances thanks to the assistance of these helping spirits. Although
the controlling ability is to some extent attributed to the latter, the bot-
tom line remains that it is the shaman himself who is performing in a
regulated manner. As I.M. Lewis explains “the controlled production

18
According to Samten G. Karmay (personal communication) this corresponds to
the ritual text known as Bon shwa ba ru rgyas. The text is published in a collection of
ritual texts by Khedup Gyatso in Dolanji, Himachal Pradesh, 1973 under the title gTo
phran, No. 20. Tingchim’s oral version is discussed in chapter 11.
The title of the Sikkimese version of this oral text was translated to me as brgyad
(eight) but this may be a mis-rendering of rgyas (spreading).
16 chapter one

of trance is taken as evidence of controlled possession by spirits”

(1971: 48). It is said that before a pawo reaches this stage, local spirits
throw themselves onto him in any order and at any time of the day
or night. Eventually, as he gains experience, the pawo uses the same
helping spirits’ powers along with the protection of his ancestral gods
( pho lha mo lha) for a number of purposes, particularly that of divina-
tion and healing by summoning and taking control of troubling local
supernatural beings. In this sense, the Tingchim pawo does more than
simply act as a medium or communicator for spirits: together with his
helping spirits and protected by his clan deities, he takes control and
bargains with local spirits for the welfare of his people. And as we
have seen, his predecessor could embark on ritual journeys to visit,
consult, and bargain with deities and ancestors directly at the location
of their abode.
The most important difference between the Sikkimese pawo as a sha-
man and, for example, the lhapa as the spirit-medium of Upper Tibet, is
their respective different levels of integration within the Buddhist system
and the status of their guardian deities. In Upper Tibet (Bellezza 2005),
the lhapa acts as a spirit-medium for important Buddhist protectors and
it would thus be inappropriate, if not unthinkable, for the lhapa to act
as their master, in the shamanic sense of master of spirits and in this
context, the lhapa is indeed better defined as a spirit-medium serving
these high ranking deities. In Tingchim however, where Buddhism has
only had a cosmetic influence over the pawo, and where the patrilineage
and its numerous non-Buddhist deities still play a role in the life of the
descent group, agency is still attributed to the pawo to some extent. His
mastery is defined by his ability to work together and make use of the
powers of his pho lha mo lha and of his tutelary deity who may or may not
be of an ambiguous Buddhist nature. The choice of the term shaman
highlights this lack of submission to Buddhist ideals and general affinity
with North Asian shamanism, an affinity which will be further explored
in chapter 5. Considering that the term pawo is generally translated as
‘hero’, the notion of master would indeed better define him than that
of servant or simple vessel to be embodied by higher gods.
As for the term ‘oracle’, it has so far been associated in the literature
with specialists making predictive utterances while in trance and enter-
taining a strong connection with the Buddhist establishment such as
the famous Nechung oracle of Tibet (Nebesky-Wojkowitz 1956, Prince
Peter 1976, Lama Chime Radha Rinpoche 1980) or the village and
monastic oracles of Ladakh (Day 1990). Since the pawo and nejum of
 introduction 17

Tingchim village entertain no formal relations with lamas at any stage

of their career, and their practice is to some extent related to Eliade’s
concept of soul flight and Shirokogoroff’s notion of master of spirits, I
concluded that using the term shaman when referring to the tradition
of Tingchim’s pawo and the nejum was not inappropriate. Further simi-
larities linking Sikkim with North Asia will be explored when compar-
ing shamanism as found in Tingchim with that of the Daur Mongols
(Humphrey 1996) in chapter 5, perhaps locating Sikkimese shamanism
on the very southern edge of the Siberian complex.

2. Lamas and shamans: a problematic relation?

The relation between lamas and shamans among Tibetan Buddhist

communities has been the subject of a number of studies. As early as
1937, Gorer was surprised to notice that the Lepchas of Lingthem, a
village not far from Tingchim, “practise simultaneously, and without
any feeling of theoretical discomfort, two . . . mutually contradictory
religions” (1938: 181). A few years later in 1953, Fürer-Haimendorf
visited the Sherpas of the Khumbu and Solu regions and wrote:
[t]here seems to be no jealousy between the practitioners of the two
different religious systems. Lamas may advise on the consultation of a
shaman, and shamans often prescribe the recitation of sacred scriptures
by a lama as part of the remedies for an illness caused by the wrath of
a god. Thus there are none of the conflicts which in Tibet character-
ized the relations between Buddhism and the old Bon religion . . . distinct
systems of belief and ritual are sufficiently harmonized to allow of their
frictionless coexistence (1955: 52).
Some years later, Berglie studied village pawo among Tibetan refugees in
Nepal in the early 1970s, and although he could not study the relation
between the pawo and the lamas in detail, he wrote that:
[t]he activities of the pawo, the lama, and the sngags pa partly overlapped
as they were asked to help in the same kinds of situations: someone was
ill, someone was struck by misfortune, etc. I do not think, however, that
it would be correct to regard them as competitors. As they used differ-
ent methods for healing the sick or bringing good luck, they are rather
regarded as complementary to each other (1976: 87).
This amiable co-existence of lamas and shamans was soon to vanish
from subsequent publications.
18 chapter one

Ortner (1978b, 1995) and Paul (1976) collected material on the rela-
tion between shamanism and Buddhism among the Sherpas, material
that was to greatly influence a number of future studies on the subject.
By the time Ortner arrived in the field in 1966, there were no longer
any practising shamans in Solu. The construction of fourteen celibate
monasteries in the region over a period of fifty years had effectively
managed to eradicate shamanism in the course of their campaign of
religious upgrading (1995: 358–59). She nevertheless concluded that
village life
presumes a world in which people are interconnected and have ongoing
obligations to one another. The theory of illness and curing embodied in
shamanism shares those (relational) assumptions. Buddhist monasticism, in
contrast, is both socially and psychologically individualistic. It encourages
a rupturing of social obligations and the renunciation of a subjectivity
that finds those obligations compelling (1995: 367).
As she points out, a number of subsequent studies (Mumford 1989,
Desjarlais 1992, Adams 1992) adopted a similar approach, by align-
ing shamanism with relationalism, and Buddhism with individualism
(1995: 369). To this we could add that the Sherpas’ dramatic example,
which so clearly echoed what may have happened in historical Tibet,
influenced the way future researchers, including myself, were to look at
the relation even before their first day of fieldwork by presuming that
shamanism and Buddhism had to be in conflict. What had happened
to Gorer’s, Fürer-Haimendorf ’s and Berglie’s amiable co-existence of
both ritual systems? Lama Chime Radha Rinpoche has even suggested
that seeing an outright contradiction or dichotomy between Buddhism
and surviving pre-Buddhist practices may be a consideration created by
Western observers (1980: 25–26). In reality, the conflict and its intensity,
or even its absence, most probably varied considerably from region to
region at different times of Tibet’s political history. Indeed, a different
viewpoint started emerging in later years. Ramble noted that in the
Mustang village of Te, there is no clear evidence of a clash between
Buddhism and what he calls pagan rituals (Ramble 2008).19 Ortner
didn’t publish her original material, which circulated in manuscript

19
I am referring to an early draft of The Navel of the Demoness (Ramble 2008) as I
did not consult the final work which had just been published as this book was going
to press. Recently, Ugyen Pelgen (2002) also noted that what Bhutanese call bon, or
non-Buddhist ritual for local deities, and Buddhism coexist harmoniously in Bhutan.
 introduction 19

form, but eventually warned us of the pitfalls of a simple binary opposi-

tion. By re-analysing her own Sherpa material some twenty years later,
she demonstrated how it would be misleading and “wrong to align the
shamanism/Buddhism opposition permanently and completely with
the relationalism/individualism opposition” (1995: 370) and that the
shamanism/Buddhism opposition was just too simple. Indeed, at least
in Tingchim, the assumption of opposition didn’t always hold true and
instead obscured much of what was actually going on.
Mumford’s study greatly contributed to reinforce the idea of an
opposition between lamas and shamans. He left for the field in 1981,
shortly after Ortner wrote her unpublished manuscript on the decline of
Sherpa shamanism. Mumford went out of his way to locate a healthy
form of ‘pre-Buddhist’ shamanism in Nepal that would be contrary to
Lamaism both ethically and philosophically. He found in Gyasumdo
‘a contemporary clash’ between Buddhist lamas and Gurung shamans
where the older
shamanic layer is still being challenged by Tibetan Lamaism in a manner
analogous to the confrontation that must have occurred again and again
in rural Tibet in the past (1989: 6–7).
Mumford associates shamanism with the ‘ancient matrix’ or the sha-
manic worldview where “personal identity is relational, defined in terms
of connections between person and the landmarks of local space.” The
‘individual life sequence’ then steps in, by promoting
a directional identity of ‘individual becoming’ that seeks extrication from
the world matrix, as in Christian or Buddhist religious destinies and
economic individualism (1989: 16).
He explores how these two voices, the first represented by the shamans
and the second by the lamas, are engaged in an inter-illuminating dia-
logic encounter which results in the creation of a third layer “emerging
between rival regimes as an unpredictable process, in a manner that is
dialogical rather than doctrinal” (1989: 35). However, despite the appar-
ent success of the Buddhist project in Gyasumdo and the creation of
what Mumford sees as a third layer of meaning among the shamans, he
notes that in the end, the Tibetan laity is still persuaded by the primary
layer that is advocated by the Gurung shamans (1989: 34).
A few years later, in her article on The Production of Self and Body in
Sherpa-Tibetan Society (1992), Adams very clearly exposed in which way
the discourse about the self shifted from relational to bodily/mental
20 chapter one

following the rise of Buddhist lamaism and new forms of power in

historical Tibet:
[t]he discourse of Buddhism aimed to produce subjectivity: individuality
where there had been collective identities; self-control where there had
been control by peers; a bifurcated self where there had been a unified,
social whole; and a supersedence of conscious (mental) over physical
being, which ultimately meant constituting a body as a non-social object
upon which self-strategies could be put into effect in the effort to obtain
self-perfection (1992: 161–62).
Adams argues that such subjectivity was created so that Tibet’s popula-
tion could be controlled through non-coercive means in a way similar
to the European modern example as presented by Foucault. However,
despite defining the relational self as something of the past, which
existed in pre-Buddhist Tibet, she notes that the Buddhist project failed
to eliminate the belief in real demons and ‘social self ’ where sickness
was caused by failing to sustain good social relations with others. She
adds that “Buddhism was really only successful at posing alternatives
to pre-Buddhist notions of the self and the supernatural” (1992: 165).
Ortner also points out that even though shamanism seems no longer
to exist among the Sherpas, it may yet still exist in other forms, for
example by using shamans from other ethnic groups and the popularity
of the tulku (sprul sku—reincarnate lama) who may be considered as an
‘upgraded shaman’ (1995: 381–82).
The survival of shamanism as opposed to its decline among Tibetan
Buddhist populations was the subject of an interesting subsequent study
(Day 1989, 1990). Sophie Day, who worked with a large number of
lhapa oracles in Ladakh, describes a form of shamanism where, instead
of eradicating the practice as among the Sherpas, the lamas subordi-
nated it to the monastery although without completely absorbing it as
in the case of the Dalai Lama’s famous Nechung oracle. The village
lhapa are diagnosed, cured, trained and validated by the lamas who
preside over the initiation ritual meant to separate the lhapa’s gods
and demons so that the lhapa may only be associated with the divine.
Village lhapa who normally perform household rituals also have the
possibility to rise within the Buddhist hierarchy and become monastery
lhapa as they progressively get possessed by higher gods as a result of
their Buddhist practice and close association with the monastery. In
the end, the situation in Ladakh offers a remarkable expression of the
shamanic worldview, how it managed to adapt itself and openly survive
 introduction 21

within a Buddhist framework. While the Sherpas may have turned to

the shamans of other ethnic communities once their shamans gave up
their ritual practices under pressure exerted by the celibate lamas, the
Ladakhis simply found a way to make their shamans acceptable to the
Buddhist establishment.
How the relation between shamanism and Buddhism unfolded in
historical Tibet must have varied considerably depending on the type
of Buddhism, shamanism and political authority exercised in each
region. The cases provided by anthropologists from different corners
of the Himalayas and Tibet, including this present study, can only
be isolated examples within a vast array of possibilities. Samuel, who
surveyed the nature and evolution of religion in pre-modern Tibet in
his important work Civilized Shamans: Buddhism in Tibetan Societies (1993),
gives us a good insight into the extent of this variability and the factors
that came into play in Tibet’s religious history. Samuel also notes that
what he calls the shamanic mode of operation or Mumford’s
‘ancient matrix’ in Tibetan societies was constantly under attack, either
overtly or implicitly, by Buddhism, but it continually reconstituted itself.
Throughout Tibetan history, it provided a background against which Bud-
dhism took shape and in terms of which it had to justify itself (1993: 6).
Central to Samuel’s analysis are what he calls ‘shamanic Buddhism’
and ‘clerical Buddhism’. By shamanic Buddhism he is referring to the
application of tantric powers by lamas, incidentally gained in the process
of their progress towards Buddhahood, for the benefit of their lay fol-
lowers in terms of health, wealth and protection. Contrary to my use
of the term, he uses the term ‘shamanic’ as an analytical category that
does not carry any implication of historical association with Siberian
shamans. He sees Vajrayāna rituals as employed by Tibetan lamas as a
sophisticated form of shamanic ritual practice (2005: 11–12). Clerical
Buddhism on the other hand is associated with scholarship, philosophi-
cal analysis and monastic discipline. Both forms of Buddhism share the
goal of ultimate enlightenment. Although the Gelugpa (dGe lugs pa)
are generally associated with clerical Buddhism and the study of the
Sūtras, and the Nyingmapa with shamanic Buddhism and the practice
of the Tantras, Samuel makes it clear that all Tibetan Buddhist schools
have different degrees of both shamanic and clerical tendencies. He
also points out that Tibetan religion has two shamanic complexes: the
spirit-mediums of Tibetan folk religion and the shamanic Buddhism of
22 chapter one

the lamas. The unusual aspect of Tibetan society is that the shamanic
complex had a strong and autonomous role unlike Theravādin Buddhist
societies where the shamanic form is not practised by monks but is kept
at the fringe of orthodox Buddhism where it is in no position to threaten
the state’s authority. Samuel argues that, while clerical Buddhism is
associated with centralised states, shamanic lamas were able to rise to
important positions of power in Tibet because of the limited nature
of its centralised political control. While central Tibet with its large
Gelugpa celibate monasteries is associated with clerical Buddhism and
centralised power, vast regions—Samuel mentions regions containing
more than half of Tibet’s population—remained entirely or somewhat
independent of Lhasa’s control. In these regions, lay rulers and lamas
reigned over their kingdoms, monastic estates and exerted influence
over nomadic tribes. Among these, the
most successful of these visionary lamas, creators of new religious orders
or founders of new political structures, were able to transform the shape
of Tibetan religion and society through their activities (1993: 36).
In these less or non-centralised regions of ethnic Tibet, monasticism
survived through support from the general population who sought the
shamanic powers of the lamas in helping solve their worldly problems
and “it was perhaps inevitable that shamanism would survive by becom-
ing Buddhist, and Buddhist monasticism would survive by becoming
shamanic” (1993: 472).
Samuel’s analysis linking clerical Buddhism with centralised states
and shamanic Buddhism with decentralised or less structured regions
has not been without its critics. Pommaret (1996) has pointed out that
attempting to apply this model to the whole of the Tibetan cultural
area may be somewhat reductionist. The model indeed doesn’t seem
to account for areas such as Bhutan that were centralised in the sev-
enteenth century by the Drukpa Kagyudpa (’Brug pa bKa’ brgyud pa)
who should be defined as shamanic according to Samuel.
However, as we will see below, Sikkim was never a strongly centralised
state and Samuel’s model here works relatively well. Sikkim was indeed
such a kingdom where Buddhism became shamanic and shamanism
became Buddhist, created in 1642 by three visionary Nyingma lamas
who established both a new political structure, and, to some extent, a
new religious order. When Lhatsun Chenpo Namkha Jigme (1597–1650)
arrived in Yuksum from the north, he met with Kahthog Rigzin Chenpo
and Ngadag Sempa Chenpo Phuntshog Rigzin (1591[2]–1656), two
 introduction 23

great Tibetan Nyingma lamas who had entered Sikkim respectively from
the western and southern gates. Together, the three lamas founded the
kingdom at Yuksum in West Sikkim and enthroned Phuntsog Namgyal
of Gangtok as Chogyal or king who rules according to the Dharma,
thus entrusting him with both temporal and spiritual powers.20 The three
lamas, known as Sikkim’s Patron Saints, came to Sikkim at the time of
the religious wars between the Gelugpa and the King of Tsang, which
led to the reunification of Tibet under the 5th Dalai Lama in 1642.
Lhatsun Chenpo Namkha Jigme belonged to what Samuel would
call shamanic Buddhism; not only was he a Nyingmapa, he was also a
master of Dzogchen (rDzogs chen), the teachings of the ‘Great Perfec-
tion’ shared by both Nyingmapa and Bonpo. When he proceeded to
convert the indigenous Lepchas to Buddhism, he did so by converting
their sacred landscape and including its already sacred features within
his Buddhist rendition of Sikkim’s sacred geography. He composed the
Nesol ( gNas gsol—‘offering to powerful sacred places’) ritual text, which
is a celebration of Sikkim as a beyul (sbas yul—‘sacred hidden land’)
and an offering ritual to Kangchendzönga ( gangs snow, chen great, mdzod
treasure, lnga five), Sikkim’s mountain god, and to all the deities of the
land. The Nesol is still one of the most important and most often per-
formed rituals in Sikkim, as much in the monasteries as in the villagers’
private houses. From its inception, Sikkim remained a Buddhist kingdom
where the people’s shamanic worldview remained unchallenged by the
missionary lamas, where the land was sacred, where ancestral gods and
the country’s protectors resided in its mountain peaks, and where the
cause of illness and misfortune was to be found within some imbal-
ances of this relational whole. The Tibetan immigrants, ancestors of
the Sikkimese Lhopos who came to Sikkim from the thirteenth century
onwards, lived side by side and even intermarried with the Lepchas
who, despite their conversion, never abandoned their shamanic prac-
tices. Thus, I shouldn’t have been surprised, when I started fieldwork in
Tingchim, to witness lamas and shamans celebrating the sacredness of
their landscape together. Sikkim indeed seemed to be a good choice for
studying the persistence of the shamanic worldview among a Tibetan
Buddhist community rather than the process of its demise.

20
On the respective seventeenth century roles and activities of the three founding
lamas, see Mullard (2005b).
24 chapter one

The persistence of the shamanic worldview in Sikkim is not only due

to the inherent shamanic nature of Nyingma and Kagyud Buddhism
as defined by Samuel or the Tibetan immigrants’ close association with
the Lepchas. Sikkim was never a strongly centralised state capable of
keeping threats to the Chogyal’s temporal and spiritual authority under
control. Throughout most of its history, the monarchy was weak, often
unable to defend Sikkim’s borders or keep its landed nobility under
control. Over the centuries, the Sikkimese Chogyals lost the Ha Val-
ley and the area now occupied by Kalimpong in North Bengal to the
Bhutanese, Limbuana in eastern Nepal to the Nepalese, the Darjeeling
hills to the British, the Chumbi Valley to the Chinese, and eventually,
what was left of Sikkim to the Indians.21 Although Sikkim, in theory,
was a small centralised agriculture-based state (Samuel 1993: 140) with
an aristocracy, it actually had many features of the ‘remote’ agricultural
community (1993: 128–31) before the British reorganised its administra-
tion and strengthened its estate and feudal system. The most important
features characteristic of the remote agricultural community were its
lack of large celibate monasteries and the importance of patrilineal
descent groups in terms of both kinship and status among its com-
moners. Interestingly, Pemayangtse, the premier monastery of the state
responsible for the coronation of the Sikkimese Chogyals, was originally
created as a celibate monastery by the third king Chagdor Namgyal
(1686–1716) in 1705. Had celibate monasteries survived and flourished
in Sikkim as they did among the Nyingma monasteries of the Sherpas,
we could presume that the kind of Buddhism Adams (1992) suggests,
based on the creation of a non-relational self-regulated individual, would
have at least to some extent succeeded in checking shamanic practices
as well as the powerful landlords or any other potential threat to the
Chogyal’s authority. Instead, Sikkimese lamas were married farmers and
the most respected and still remembered religious specialists were not
reincarnated lamas at the head of powerful celibate monasteries but
gomchen (sgom chen), realised tantric practitioners who lived in mountain
caves and who were known for their magical powers, non-conformity
and irreverence towards any form of worldly authority. And until the

21
According to the History of Sikkim, the original borders of Sikkim were the follow-
ing: “Dibdala in the north, Shingsa Dag-pay, Walung, Yangang Khangchen, Yarlung
and Timar Chorten in the west, down along the Arun and Dud Kosi rivers, down the
Maha Lodi Nuxalbari, Tatiala in the south. On the east Tagong La and Tang La in
the north” (Namgyal 1908: 26).
 introduction 25

end of the monarchy in 1975, the most important state ritual was Pang
Lhabsol (dPang lha gsol—‘offering to the witness god’), the national cel-
ebration of Kangchendzönga, which was not only attended by lamas
but, although discreetly, by Lepcha shamans. Pang Lhabsol was, to some
extent, a national shamanic ritual in the sense that it celebrated people’s
relations with the sacred land and its deities.
As mentioned, my usage of the term ‘shaman’ will be limited to the
previously introduced concept as it is understood within the Siberian
complex. As for the term ‘shamanic’ as in ‘shamanic worldview’, I am
in no way referring to Samuel’s definition of the shamanic as in ‘sha-
manic Buddhism’ but rather to the concept of the ‘ancient matrix’ as
introduced by Mumford where “personal identity is relational, defined
in terms of connections between person and the landmarks of local
space” (1989: 16), a concept I will be further exploring below.
Such a shamanic view or the idea that all things are interconnected
is widespread in Asia. As Humphrey relates (1996: 215), life among
the Daur Mongols
was a temporary union of parts, which could easily be disordered or
unbalanced. In all this there was no clear separation of the physical from
the mental, or of the mental from the emotional.
Her approach to the study of shamanism among the Daur first took
into consideration the Daur’s views of the nature of human life in the
world and the cosmologies that ‘call for’ the shaman rather than the
study of the shaman, his role and abilities (Humphrey 1996: 50–51).
It was precisely such a cosmology that ‘called for’ the shaman, which
I eventually tried to uncover and understand in Tingchim, but such
insight did not come immediately.
In Tingchim, the persistence or even the existence of the shamanic
worldview is something I came to realise gradually for a number of
reasons. First, as I mentioned earlier, I didn’t expect it to be there;
second, villagers are primarily Buddhists and have been made to feel
ashamed of pursuing their shamanic belief and practices; and third, I
felt that researching the last shamans in Sikkim would be looking for
the exotic and the romantic rather than researching what was actu-
ally there. Pawo and nejum have practically disappeared in Sikkim and
although Tingchim still had a practising pawo, a nejum and a bongthing
at the time of fieldwork, I assumed that they were already something
of the past and that I should concentrate on ritual and inter-ethnic
relations, my original research topic. But a few clues soon made me
26 chapter one

realise that, despite a dying shamanism, the shamanic worldview was

so pervasive that it could not be ignored: (1) when someone falls ill in
Tingchim, the first and last to be consulted are not the lamas and the
doctors but the pawo or the bongthing; (2) illness is usually thought to be
inflicted by some ambiguous local deity who would have been offended
as a result of someone’s wrongdoing; (3) Tingchim villagers don’t hesi-
tate to consult non-Lhopo shamans from neighbouring ethnic groups
if their own fail; (4) the most effective cure when death is threatening,
whether they perform it or not, is still thought by some villagers to
be animal sacrifice despite the 16th Karmapa’s effort to eliminate the
practice in Tingchim in the early 1960s;22 (5) every household, without
exception, performs biannual harvest offerings to thank their providers,
the pho lha mo lha who inhabit the sacred landscape and its bon paradises
located in the high mountains between Sikkim and Tibet. Eventually,
it became clear that the shamanic worldview was so deeply ingrained
in the way of thinking among village lamas, shamans and villagers
alike that it rarely came into conflict with Buddhism or its individualist
agenda. And when it did, the conflict was not about the existence of
the relational-self, but how best to address it.
As I mentioned earlier, Ortner thought it was “wrong to align the
shamanism/Buddhism opposition permanently and completely with
the relationalism/individualism opposition” (1995: 370) as she did
in her first manuscript and later demonstrated how shamanism and
Buddhism could be shown to be both individualistic and relational in
Sherpa society. Although I very much agree with her, I believe that
her definition of relationalism in this context is too limited and thus
prevents us from appreciating its fundamental importance and why it
doesn’t always have to be opposed to Buddhism, at least in Sikkimese
society. She sees relationalism primarily in terms of relations between
people and omits the notion of land and local space:
[w]ith respect to painting a relational picture of Sherpa society, then, one
could emphasize the virtual total corporateness of the nuclear family, the
obligatory participation in mutual exchange groups, the determination
of status by lineage membership and birth order, hereditary attachment

22
Before 1962 when the practice was completely abandoned following the influence
of the 16th Karmapa who provided a substitute Buddhist ritual for Tingchim villagers,
up to sixty oxen were sacrificed each year as part of curing and other rituals. The
practice has since been rekindled by some Tingchim villagers, and chickens and goats
are now very occasionally sacrificed with the hope of saving the life of dangerously
ill relatives (see chapter 4).
 introduction 27

to particular temples and to particular ‘headmen’ (pembu) and more (ibid.:

370–71).
And when she discusses the relational aspect of the supernatural beings
dealt with by the shamans, as opposed to the non-relational demons
dealt with by the lamas, she again portrays them strictly in terms of
relations between people. The pem (witches) and nerpa (ghosts), who
are the domain of the shamans, are respectively associated with the
relational sentiments of envy and pity or compassion (1995: 364). A
definition limited to social relations makes it more difficult to undo
the shamanism-Buddhism opposition and may be a projection of the
anthropologist’s preoccupations and categories. Despite what I see as
a limited definition, it was Ortner’s insight to see Sherpa society as
sharing a relational shamanic worldview, which didn’t always need to
be opposed to the individualism of Buddhism, and that this shamanic
worldview didn’t simply die with the death of the Sherpa shamans but
survived in other forms. And it is precisely these insights that I wish
to explore.
For Tingchim villagers, the idea of relationalism is much more
pervasive. For example, their body and patrilineage are related to the
landscape through their pho lha mo lha who reside in the high mountains
and, in some cases, simultaneously in specific locations of their own
bodies. One of the most important of these lineage protectors, the
mountain god Kangchendzönga, was also worshipped during the ‘old
days’ as protector of the kingdom by everyone who considered himself
first and foremost as Sikkimese, thus linking and uniting the person, the
lineage, the village and the state together under the Chogyal. A person
is defined by these relations to land, lineage and ancestors, which in turn
bind villagers together. Illness is often but not exclusively thought to be
caused by either disregarding these relations, for example by omitting to
perform a prescribed ritual for the pho lha mo lha, or by violating them,
for example by quarrelling among relatives or damaging a supernatural
being’s territorial abode. Village lamas and shamans share and work
together within this worldview, which is best illustrated through the
ritual curing of illness and the notion of drib (sgrib—pollution, defile-
ment). Any action that is thought of as wrong becomes a source of
drib. In turn, the presence of drib offends neighbouring supernatural
beings who then express their displeasure by inflicting suffering on
human beings. Ideally, a ritual cure demands that this original wrong-
doing be uncovered and the offended supernatural being’s identity be
precisely established either through the shaman’s possession rituals or
28 chapter one

the bongthing’s or the lama’s divinations. The popularity of the shamans

and the bongthing is of course due to the fact that they are far better
equipped than the lamas to operate within this local shamanic world
where the social and physical environments and the supernatural are
thought to be so intimately linked. Any preventive ritual performed on
a regular basis by any of Tingchim’s ritual specialists is likely to aim
at maintaining or reaffirming these relations while curing rituals will
aim to exorcise agents, often identified through their wrongdoing, as a
threat to this relational order.
Defined in those terms, rather than strictly in terms of relations
between people, a relational world is far from being the sole property
of the shamans. The idea that all things are interconnected is certainly
present in Buddhism too. Samuel mentions that the ancient Tibetan
concept of tendrel (rten ’brel—‘arising in mutual connection’) was present
in Tibet long before the introduction of its Buddhist equivalent from
India known as pratītyasamutpāda, the concept referring to the relational
nature of all phenomena (1993: 447–48). Tendrel finds its application
in divination and in the reading of omens, or the “mutual correspon-
dence of apparently disparate phenomena within a single situation”
(1993: 191). Thus when village lamas look for the cause of illness, like
the shamans, they are looking for the cause of the imbalance within
this relational whole. But what constitutes this relational whole and
what creates an imbalance, is of course defined and interpreted in
local terms, and this is the local understanding that is shared by both
village lamas and shamans, but not necessarily by foreign educated
lamas and Rinpoches.
This all-pervasive form of relationalism, present in both shamanism
and Buddhism, doesn’t preclude the individualist Buddhist project,
which is equally present in Sikkim and can be witnessed in the dis-
course of the few celibate lamas or gelong (dge slong) who live in retreat
from society. Once disconnected from their villages and families, such
lamas are not only disconnected from a demanding social world, they
are disconnected from the village’s particular worldview, and conse-
quently, the relational concept of tendrel like many other concepts, is
soon interpreted in non-social abstract terms. For example, I will always
remember a conversation with an educated celibate lama in Gangtok
who thought that my interest in village religion was a waste of time
since village lamas had not yet understood that the supernatural beings
identified as the cause of people’s problems actually didn’t inhabit the
landscape but were located in their minds. As long as villagers live in
 introduction 29

a social world, they are likely to keep applying the relational concept
of tendrel to the parameters of the world they live in, which includes
land, natural resources, family, lineage, ancestors, village and state,
rather than to the parameters of a non-social self.
The idea that all things are interconnected appears to be what Colling-
wood would call an absolute presupposition. In his Essay on Metaphysics
(1940: 34–57), he demonstrates how an individual or group’s values
and the entire structure of their particular way of thinking are ulti-
mately based on absolute presuppositions that remain unquestioned and
assumed as truth. A metaphysical analysis would uncover these absolute
presuppositions not to question their degree of truthfulness but rather
to consider how they are created and vary historically and culturally.
Thus, how tendrel is interpreted may depend on the interpreter’s social
or non-social setting, but the concept itself and its inherent relationalism
is not likely to vanish. Thus it is not surprising that despite the Buddhist
project, the shamanic worldview refuses to die and keeps coming back
as Ortner, Mumford, Samuel and Adams have all pointed out. It also
means that presuming that the shamanic worldview should not survive
the Buddhist project appears to be a projection of the anthropologist’s
need for distinct, non-overlapping and non-contradictive categories, a
form of analysis that Hobart would call ‘epistemological imperialism’
(Hobart 1989).
What is perhaps unusual in Tingchim in comparison to other Tibetan
Buddhist communities is that, in all practical terms, the shamans are
usually considered more capable than the village lamas in precisely
identifying what caused an illness and how to re-establish the imbal-
ance. Powerful Rinpoches are of course considered far superior to
village lamas and bon specialists by all Sikkimese, but their superiority
remains somewhat theoretical as villagers rarely get the chance to ask
them to intervene in such worldly matters. The location, attributes, likes
and dislikes of each local deity are best known by the pawo, the nejum
and the bongthing, a form of local knowledge that usually makes them
more powerful than the village lamas when dealing with serious cases
of illness. In other Tibetan Buddhist societies, the lamas have usually
gained their superior position over the shamans in dealing with worldly
problems thanks to their superior ritual techniques gained through their
association with the far superior tantric deities. In Tingchim, however,
the tantric deities and the lamas’ rituals are considered somewhat too
abstract or not sufficiently intimate with and understanding of the vil-
lagers’ problems and the local cosmology to be considered fully effective.
30 chapter one

In case of serious illness, to be successful, a ritual must uncover the

cause of the illness through negotiation with the responsible super-
natural being rather than through taming and subduing. The ritual
itself is often dramatic and performance-based rather than based on
the reciting of the liturgy of the lamas. Thus village lamas who have
managed to adapt their rituals tend to become popular when dealing
with misfortune while those who try to be pure are eventually sidelined.
However, the village lamas maintain their position at the top of the
ritual hierarchy in Tingchim because of their association with higher
knowledge and the supra-worldly deities of tantric Buddhism, which
establishes them as masters over the domain of death and rebirth. But
when dealing with worldly problems, instead of transmuting the whole
scenario with the help of higher deities as outside lamas would advocate,
village lamas participate on the same level and directly into the world
of shamans. Problems and tensions in Tingchim arise when this shared
shamanic worldview is questioned. Thus, tensions in Tingchim usually
do not arise between village lamas and shamans, but between village
lamas and those outside lamas advocating a purer form of Buddhism
that is not understanding of local problems and villagers’ particular
worldview. However, some Rinpoches are very much aware of the
problem and the 16th Karmapa is said to have encouraged Tingchim
villagers to maintain their biannual harvest offerings in honour of their
pho lha mo lha.
To avoid confusion, I shall refer to (1) the form of Buddhism as
practised in Tingchim by married village lamas as ‘village Buddhism’,
(2) the purer form of Buddhism advocated by educated outside lamas
and Rinpoches as ‘conventional Buddhism’,23 and (3) the local form
of ritual and understanding, shared by both village lamas (village Bud-
dhism) and shamans (bon), as ‘village religion’.
A number of authors have made a distinction between village or
popular forms of Buddhism and more orthodox forms advocated by
monastic or other elites (Spiro 1971, Southwold 1982). Among the
Sherpas, Sherry Ortner notes in High Religion (1989) the existence of

23
I chose the word ‘conventional’ rather than the more common term ‘orthodox’
as I am referring to the villagers’ perception of orthodox Buddhism which is different
as they usually have a very limited understanding of the latter.
 introduction 31

a ‘folk’ form of Tibetan Buddhism, in which local married priests (lama)

conducted rituals in village temples and in households for the benefit of
the general populace . . . [and the] more ‘orthodox’ monastic institutions,
in which celibate individuals live and practise religion on a full-time
basis (1989: 3).
Samuel’s categories are more elaborate as he distinguishes between
three spheres of religious activities present, each in various degrees,
among all forms of what he calls ‘clerical’ and ‘shamanic’ Buddhism.
The first, the ‘pragmatic orientation’ is “the realm of this worldly
concerns, conceived of in terms of interactions with local gods and
spirits.” The second, the ‘karma orientation’ is “the sphere of death
and rebirth, past and future lives, again seen in terms of karma and
‘ideology of merit’.” The third, the ‘bodhi orientation’, is concerned
with the pursuit of enlightenment carried out through tantric practice
(1993: 31). While ‘clerical Buddhism’ is primarily concerned with the
karma orientation and ‘shamanic Buddhism’ with the pragmatic and
bodhi orientations, both forms of Buddhism are nevertheless involved
in all three spheres of religious activities. The distinction I have made
between ‘village Buddhism’ and ‘conventional Buddhism’ in the context
of Tingchim corresponds, within Samuel’s ‘shamanic Buddhism’, to a
difference of emphasis upon these three spheres of activity and their
applications. Village Buddhism in Tingchim is primarily concerned
with the pragmatic orientation: thus, village lamas co-operate with the
shamans in relieving villagers from the sufferings of life in this world
by dealing directly with the troublesome supernatural beings of the
territory. Village lamas’ interest in the bodhi orientation tends to focus
on gaining tantric powers that may render their pragmatic rituals more
effective, while the karma orientation mainly finds expression during the
performance of death rituals, individual daily practices and the annual
Buddhist rituals held at the village’s prayer hall. What I have called
‘conventional Buddhism’ in the Sikkimese context corresponds to the
views, practices and aspirations of those lamas and lay practitioners
who: (1) place a stronger emphasis on the study and rituals of the
karma orientation, (2) refrain from honouring the supernatural beings
of the territory or co-operating with shamans on the pragmatic level,
and (3) engage in tantric practices primarily aimed at the accumula-
tion of merit and the pursuit of enlightenment. Those holding such
views have usually had the opportunity to study Buddhist philosophy
beyond the village with Tibetan lamas; have been living in urban areas
32 chapter one

for more than a couple of generations where they have lost touch with
the supernatural population of their village of origin; or have otherwise
been influenced by charismatic Rinpoches.
Despite its alleged inefficiency or dislike of dealing with the ambigu-
ous local deities, conventional Buddhism and its emphasis on the karma
orientation has an important role to play in the village. For Tingchim
people, conventional Buddhism is something that lies outside the vil-
lage, both literally and figuratively. It is something very precious to
aspire to either through secluded practice, pilgrimage, study in outside
schools and monasteries or during the rituals of death. Before the end
of the Buddhist monarchy, conventional Buddhist aspirations were the
most important avenue for the village’s relation with the outside world,
through the Phodong monastery, the Palace chapel, the 16th Karmapa’s
Dharma Chakra monastery at Rumtek and pilgrimage to the sacred
Buddhist sites of Tibet, India and Nepal. After the end of the monarchy
in 1975, participation in Buddhism and the village’s relations with the
outside world both gradually re-defined themselves along other lines.
Eventually, conventional Buddhism re-emerged in the 1990s as one of
the village’s privileged avenues in its relations with the outside world
that now included countries as far away as Taiwan.
In the same way, shamanism has had to considerably redefine itself in
the twentieth century. At the end of the nineteenth, every patrilineage
in Tingchim had its own pawo or nejum while today, there are hardly
half a dozen Lhopo pawo and nejum still practising in Sikkim. It does
not appear possible to pinpoint a single dramatic event as among the
Sherpas where the construction of celibate monasteries eradicated the
practice in a few decades. However, the introduction of the cardamom
cash crop in Sikkim at the end of the nineteenth century, coupled with
the construction of an extensive network of roads, may be important
factors. With the money gained from cardamom, villagers were able
to hire cheap Nepalese labour to look after their fields and, like the
wealthy nobility, they were now able to invest their surplus time and
money in Buddhism, a far more prestigious—and expensive—form
of worship. Tingchim started producing cardamoms at the same rate
that it started producing lamas who first took over from the nagshang
in the ritual domain of death at the turn of the nineteenth century,
and the community rituals from the shamans in the 1930s. Shamans
gradually lost their sponsors but maintained a certain monopoly over
the ritual curing of illness, at least in Tingchim, until 1997 when both
Pawo Nadu and his mother the nejum passed away without leaving any
 introduction 33

suitable successors.24 Potential shamans also found a better income

in cardamom, and families with children displaying the symptoms of
mediumship were able to afford expensive cures and rituals to help
them avoid the hardships of possession. In addition to this, shaman-
ism became associated with the religion of the migrant labourers of
Nepalese origin whom the Lhopos had come to dislike ever since the
Gorkha invasion of Sikkim west of the Teesta in 1789. The gradual
construction of a network of roads facilitated the marketing of the
cardamom and travel to important monasteries, and Tibetan Rinpoches
who started taking refuge in Sikkim after the Chinese takeover of their
country in 1959. And roads made it equally easy to travel to Gangtok
to visit its doctors and hospital.
It must be emphasised that the decline of shamanism, however, is
not synonymous with the decline of the shamanic worldview. Although
the lamas may have finally taken over from the shamans in the twenty-
first century, Buddhism did not completely take over from shamanism.
The most popular village lamas operate very creatively within the
village’s shamanic worldview and when necessary, villagers regularly
consult the shamans and other ritual specialists of their Nepalese ten-
ant farmers. However, the survival of the shamanic worldview seems
to find its roots in the central position of the Lhopos’ household rituals
where participation is mandatory and defines community membership.
Whether bon or Buddhist, household rituals have maintained and even
gained importance in recent decades for a number of economic and
political reasons. As a result, the household and its rituals, and not the
monastery, seem now to provide the main avenue for the maintenance
of the ties of the Lhopo community and its identity.
Gaining some understanding of the relation between shamans, village
lamas and the influence of conventional Buddhism was made possible
by my teacher Lopen Dugyal Acharya Bhutia who also acted as my
research assistant and translator during the whole period of fieldwork
research. Lopen Dugyal was the first village lama to leave Tingchim and
return after nine years of study with the Acharya or Master’s degree
in Buddhist philosophy from the Institute of Higher Nyingma Studies
in Gangtok also known as the Deorali Shedra (bshad grwa). Like most
advocates of conventional Buddhism, he disputed the practice of bon

24
Although Pawo Nadu and his mother are no longer present in Tingchim, I refer to
them as if they were still alive when describing their rituals in the following chapters.
34 chapter one

and the village lamas’ leniency towards and participation in unorthodox

practices. Lopen Dugyal became a key player in this interplay between
village religion and conventional Buddhism following his return to
the village, which coincided with the period of my fieldwork. He was
openly challenged by the bon ritual specialists while the village lamas
remained silent but became increasingly irritated by what they saw as
his intellectual arrogance and the threat his knowledge represented to
their status. This confrontation was complex and painful since beneath
the veneer of his conventional Buddhist education, Lopen Dugyal had
himself been a village lama for years and could sympathise with relatives
and neighbours and understand their need for village religion. The bon
ritual specialists themselves were his cousin, his paternal uncle and his
maternal aunt, and the village gomchen had been his first teacher. Our
study and endless questioning pushed him into a deeper dialogue with
his relatives, giving voice to the village’s ritual specialists. He would not
normally have entertained these dialogues with such interest, which in
turn helped him understand village religion in a less dogmatic way.
We will see that Lopen Dugyal’s confrontation with village lamas is
not a denial of this inter-illuminating dialogue but an indication that
the village is not about to part with its conceptual view of itself and
its shamanic worldview.

Plate 3: Lopen Dugyal Acharya Bhutia in his house in Tingchim

 introduction 35

Working on the subject of rituals with a teacher and research assis-

tant considered a Buddhist authority was not without its problems. As
Burghart has pointed out while referring to anthropologists working in
India, “[h]ow does one write the culture of a people which has already
been written by its native spokesmen?” (1990: 277). I largely escaped
the problem by working on a subject that was relatively unknown to
Lopen Dugyal; although he was familiar with bon, Lopen Dugyal was
not a bon specialist. The same applied to other cultural authorities
within the state who rarely had more than a superficial interest in or
understanding of the pawo, the nejum or the bongthing’s ritual practices
or the joint rituals of village lamas and shamans. The main subjects
locally considered acceptable objects of study are Buddhism, language,
history, and ‘culture’, which is understood as traditions such as the
proper way to hold weddings and funerals, or to perform Sikkimese
songs and dances. I was thus working in a grey zone, which had not
yet been fully interpreted by local experts, something that made it easy
for me to proceed. Local shamans were not considered authorities
since they merely performed rituals without the help of written texts
that could express an incontestable truth. The shamans’ understanding
of Buddhism, the only form of real knowledge by which their rituals
could be properly interpreted, was not considered sufficient for local
authorities to hold their views in some esteem. The fact that I was
not interpreting village religion according to a conventional Buddhist
paradigm was perhaps more problematic and the only factor that led
Lopen Dugyal and myself to hold conflicting views. Sometimes Lopen
Dugyal went to great lengths to educate me in what he considered the
orthodox or proper interpretation of a bon ritual or describe its Buddhist
equivalent. Although such views offered illuminating insights into the
relation between conventional Buddhism and village religion, Lopen
Dugyal quickly understood and respected the fact that, for the purpose
of the research subject—which he came to consider as our project—it
was important to allow a voice to the village’s ritual specialists and
respect their views and interpretations. It also helped to point out that
conventional Buddhism was a very well-documented subject that didn’t
need our attention while no-one knew about Tingchim’s bon rituals and
that these should perhaps be recorded, as they are locally understood
before they disappeared. Lopen Dugyal was prepared to do this for the
sake of his ancestors and so that their traditions may be remembered
by the village’s future generations.
36 chapter one

While exploring the rituals of village lamas and shamans, I was not
concerned with the nature or action of ritual in itself (Humphrey and
Laidlaw 1994) but rather with the performance of ritual as a platform
where the relation between bon and Buddhism and Tingchim villagers’
particular worldview could be observed. In the end, these performances
provided a platform where not only the interests of bon and Buddhism
were engaged but, to borrow Hobart’s term, many facets of Tingchim
villagers’ world became ‘articulated’. It is interesting to note that in Bali,
“rites provide a means of articulating the different, potentially incompat-
ible, interests of different people and groups” (1992: 12) and that the
king’s success, as organiser of rites, exemplifies “the ruler’s capacity to
articulate the manifest and non-manifest worlds” (1992: 15). While the
“kings, or courts, were agents of articulation through ritual” among
the Balinese (1992: 3), in Sikkim, the village ritual specialists, thrive
but never individually succeed in fulfilling this role. In Tingchim, one
could say that any bon or Buddhist ritual specialists’ capacity to relieve
people’s suffering in terms of obstacles, health and fertility exemplifies
his capacity to articulate the social, physical and supernatural worlds
that are thought to be intimately related. For this reason, I thought it
imperative to include the wider context of village life and not limit my
observations to ritual performances.
Viewing all ritual specialists in interaction and not limiting my obser-
vations to isolated practices seemed equally important. As Holmberg
has pointed out in his studies of Tamang ritual, the use of multiple
ritual specialists or ‘multi-faceted ritual systems’ is a common feature in
South and Southeast Asia (1989: 4). One of the popular models for the
study of such religious complexities has been the articulating concepts
of ‘great tradition’ and ‘little tradition’. However,
calling attention to structural, historical, and communicative continuities
between these opposite poles Dumont and Pocock (1959), Obeyeskere
(1963), and Tambiah (1970) interpret the social and cultural systems of
India, Sri Lanka, and Thailand as unified systems and have criticised
approaches that consider great and little as isolates (Holmberg 1989: 5).
Holmberg follows the example of Tambiah who
conceives Thai religion as a ‘single religious field’ encompassing four ‘cults
and complexes’ that exists in relations of ‘opposition, complementarity,
linkage, and hierarchy’ (Tambiah 1970: 2).
 introduction 37

He points out that the tendency in Nepal—with notable exceptions—has

been to study these ritual specialists in isolation by neglecting their
association with other forms of ritual practices. He concludes that
comparative studies should not be contrasting different strands of
shamanism or Buddhism but rather total religious systems whether
within the Himalayas or greater Asia (1989: 5–6). As much as possible,
my approach has also been to consider the ‘total religious field’ in my
observations of bon-Buddhist relations through the rituals of daily life
rather than considering the practices of the pawo, the bongthing and the
lamas in isolation. In turn, their ritual co-operation and division of
labour revealed that together their seemingly contradictory practices
form a single ritual complex based on a shared shamanic view of the
universe.
While ‘ritual’ is a contested term in anthropology and there are
many views on how it should be understood or defined, this is not the
main concern of my study. I have decided simply to regard ritual as
any performance held by any of the village’s ritual specialists whether
they are concerned with what Samuel has called the pragmatic, karma
or Bodhi orientations. These rituals are generally held either: (1) on
a regular basis for the purpose of augmenting fertility and prosperity,
the merit of the sponsor or the powers of the practitioner, or (2) in
moments of crisis with the hope of propitiating the supernatural beings
of the territory, the ancestral gods or the Buddhist deities. Tingchim
villagers do not have a general term similar to ‘ritual’, which may cover
all such performances, as each is referred to by a particular term that
I will introduce as need arises.

3. The chapters

The central theme of the research being the relation between lamas
and shamans and the survival of the shamanic worldview through
the performance of household rituals, it was necessary to identify the
different platforms on which lamas and shamans operate and ritually
meet. In addition to attending rituals, considerable time was thus spent
on understanding village life, its history, agricultural economy, inter-
ethnic relations, kinship system, relation with the state, and so forth. The
context seemed as important as the subject since lamas and shamans
have themselves always been engaged with the wider context, which
38 chapter one

created them and gave them a voice to start with. With such a broad
approach however, the presentation of the material became problem-
atic. In the end, I chose to present it according to the various platforms
on which lamas and shamans meet, which correspond to aspects of
village life to which villagers have an on-going relation through ritual.
These are: (1) the sacred land and its resources, (2) the individual and
the household, (3) the lineage, the village and the state. Within each of
these three sections, which correspond to Parts II, III, and IV, I made
a distinction between those calendrical rituals performed on a regular
basis with the aim of augmentation and those held in moments of crisis
with the aim of propitiation. None of these categories are meant to
be rigid but only a way to facilitate the analysis as ritual categories in
fact often overlap one another.
Part I introduces the setting in four chapters. Following this first intro-
ductory chapter 1, chapter 2 outlines Tingchim’s recent political, eco-
nomic, inter-ethnic and religious history as well as Sikkimese—including
Tingchim villagers’—migration history. Chapter 3 introduces Sikkim
as a beyul or sacred hidden land along with its supernatural popula-
tion that shapes Tingchim villagers’ vision of the world they live in:
the ancestral gods, the supernatural beings of the local territory and
Kangchendzönga as Sikkim’s mountain deity. Chapter 4 introduces
‘village religion’ and the different levels of co-operation between bon
and Buddhist ritual specialists. It exposes the working relation of village
lamas and shamans in relation to illness, its causes, diagnosis and the
sequence of ritual cures. This is followed by chapter 5, a description of
the shamans’ rituals and initiations, their interaction with dead ances-
tors, the influence of Buddhism over their practice and the relation of
their practice to North Asian shamanism. In more general terms, Part
1 aims to outline Tingchim villagers’ particular worldview and some
of the causes for its persistence.
Part II is concerned with the land, its harvests, workers and ritu-
als. Chapter 6 presents the agricultural economy and in which way
Tingchim villagers’ relations with their Nepalese tenant farmers and
local merchants revolve around the cardamom trade. It stresses the
central importance of the household rituals that ensure the continuous
fertility of the land and the way in which the khelen (khas len),25 an oral
ritual text and offering ritual for the deities of the land, has emerged

25
Khas len or its honourific form zhal len means ‘expressing’ or ‘addressing’.
 introduction 39

as the common ritual practice of the village lamas, the pawo and the
bongthing. Chapter 7 addresses cases of illness and misfortune rooted
in problems related to the economic and sacred aspects of the land
and its resources. The first section looks into the relation between land
disputes and accusations of poisoning, witchcraft and the sending of
curses or maledictions. The second section looks into the consequences
of destroying particular objects of nature and the rituals needed to be
performed as a cure. The last section discusses the successful protest
movement against the construction of a hydro-electric power station
on the sacred Rathong Chu river at Yuksum in West Sikkim, which
was considered an ultimate wrong action performed against the sacred
land.
Part III addresses the rituals of the household and its members.
Chapter 8 presents the domestic rituals held on the occasion of the
rites of passage—birth, marriage, moving into a new house, joining the
monastery, severe illness and death—and in which ways attendance at
these household rituals forms the basis of a network of mutual help
in which participation is mandatory and defines community member-
ship. Chapter 9 discusses land boundary disputes, the most common
sources of dispute among relatives and Tingchim villagers, and how
the ancestral gods may help in ritually resolving these quarrels. The
lingering consciousness of dead kin members may also plague the
life of household members, a situation that will be addressed by
the combined ritual participation of the village lamas, the pawo and
the bongthing. The unfolding of this collective ritual action provides a
rare example illustrating the way in which the bon and Buddhist ritual
specialists may join forces for the welfare of a patient and collaborate
in the performance of a single curing ritual.
Despite the important changes the village has been through in the
second part of the twentieth century, the above household rituals ensur-
ing the health, fertility and prosperity of the individual, the land and
the household have been well maintained. These domestic rituals not
only encourage the participation of bon and Buddhist ritual specialists
but the survival of the shamanic worldview on which these are based.
Thus chapters 6 to 9 aim to demonstrate the amiable working relations
of lamas and shamans, and the complementary aspect of their respec-
tive practices rather than the opposition, which the recent literature
suggests characterises the lama-shaman relationship.
These domestic rituals seem to have gained a new dimension as they
became the only avenue left for Tingchim villagers to define themselves
40 chapter one

as a community in face of an ever growing and more powerful popula-

tion of outsiders. Their maintenance was further encouraged by impor-
tant changes that took place in the village’s relation with conventional
Buddhism, the state and the outside world following the abolition of
the Buddhist monarchy in 1975, changes that are addressed in Part IV.
Chapter 10 is concerned with the role of conventional Buddhism in
the village’s relation with the state and the outside world, before and
after the monarchy, and its consequences for the household rituals.
Chapter 11 addresses the latest conventional Buddhist influence on the
single complex of village religion and the way in which bon special-
ists and village lamas reacted to Lopen Dugyal’s return to the village
after graduating with a Masters degree in Buddhist philosophy. This
is partly addressed through the unfolding of events during the pawo’s
annual retreat where the spirits of ancestors attempted to mediate
between Lopen Dugyal and the bon specialists. The chapter eventually
concludes that contrary to how the lama-shaman relation has been
presented in the literature in recent years, their amiable co-existence
in Tingchim indicates that the real confrontation may actually lie
not between bon and Buddhism, or lamas and shamans, but between
conventional Buddhism and its more pragmatic village adaptation.
Chapter 12 concludes and summarises the main arguments leading
to the endurance of the shamanic worldview which finds itself at the
root of the amiable co-existence of village lamas and shamans and the
celebration of domestic rituals. I argue that the recent economic, politi-
cal and population changes that took place in Sikkim in the twentieth
century have contributed to strengthen the celebration of domestic
rituals among the Lhopos and that the household may indeed have
replaced the village’s prayer hall and the monastery as the centre of
Lhopo social and religious life following the decline of state level Bud-
dhism in post-1975 Sikkim.
The approach I have chosen, whereby the working relation of lamas
and shamans is presented within the wider context of Tingchim’s
social life, has been essential for a number of reasons. Firstly, because
Sikkim has been very difficult of access to foreign researchers until the
1990s, this work is the first ethnography of a Sikkimese Lhopo village
based on long-term field research.26 A certain amount of background

26
The foreign anthropologists given permission to carry out field research in Sik-
kimese villages during the time of the kingdom were Gorer (1938), Morris (1938) and
 introduction 41

knowledge, given in chapters 2 and 3, was thus necessary in order to

introduce the antecedents of the ethnic community, the ancestral gods
and the sacred aspect of the land they live in. Secondly, because there
is no ethnographic work yet available on the Lhopos, many Sikkimese
friends, government officials, scholars and Tingchim villagers who
supported me throughout the research process expect me to present
them with a complete ethnography, which they will be able to show
to their children as an example of the way of life of their forefathers.
I have thus included material, which is not indispensable in terms of
this study’s arguments, but which will be considered important for the
next generation of Sikkimese readers. Thirdly, according to Samuel,
there has been little detailed ethnography on household and family
rituals as yet (1993: 196), as well as on the pawo and nejum who are
becoming rarer every year, while there is a wealth of material available
on conventional Buddhist and Tibetan monastic rituals.
Lastly, my approach to ritual, through the platforms of village life
where lamas and shamans meet—land, household, lineage, village and
state—demands that the relation between household rituals and the
pragmatic aspects of village life be included in the analysis. This was
decided at the time of fieldwork when my doctoral research supervisor
Professor Lionel Caplan encouraged me to explore the village’s political
economy and its relation to ritual, taking into consideration its historical

Siiger (1967) who all worked among the Lepchas of Dzongu, and Chie Nakane (1966)
who did two months of field research in 1955 on the relation between the Bhutias, the
Lepchas and the Nepalese. This work, based on field research carried between 1993
and 1996, is the first Bhutia (Lhopo) village ethnography carried out in Sikkim after its
merger with India. The French anthropologist Mélanie Vandenhelsken carried out field
research on the relation between the village and the monastery in Nako-Chongpung in
West Sikkim later in the 1990s. Her thesis entitled: Le monastère bouddhique de Pemayangtse
au Sikkim (Himalaya oriental, Inde): un monastère dans le monde (2002) is concerned with the
relation between Pemayangtse, the premier monastery of Sikkim, and its surrounding
villages, and the Western Sikkimese Lhopos’ social organisation. No reference is made
to her thesis in this work for two reasons: (1) only some of her thesis chapters, which
she still intended to work on, were made available to me when this book was going
to press, and (2) her work is an important contribution to Sikkimese ethnography and
many interesting comparisons between Western and Northern Sikkimese Lhopo ritual
culture and social organisation could be made using our respective studies, something
I hope to do in a separate publication. The French anthropologist Brigitte Steinmann
has also carried out a number of short-term field studies in Sikkim (1996, 1998).
Among Indian anthropologists, notable contributions to the ethnography of indigenous
villages have been Bhasin’s general study of Bhutia-Lepchas of North Sikkim (1989)
and Gowloog’s re-study of the Lepcha village of Lingthem (1995). From 2001, the
following researchers carried out fieldwork in Sikkim whose theses were not yet avail-
able: S. Sabatier-Bourdet, V. Arora, J. Bentley and J. Garcia.
42 chapter one

and inter-ethnic dimensions. I soon realised that the core of the ritual
performances did not teach me much about Sikkimese society or the
relation between lamas and shamans, but that understanding usually
emerged from the context in which the rituals were being held. This in
turn enabled me to appreciate the relational aspect of village life and
to what degree it is deeply rooted in a shamanic view of the universe.
This understanding eventually allowed me to reach my final conclusion
about the central importance of household rituals as opposed to those
held at the monastery, how these are based on a shamanic worldview
shared by both village lamas and shamans, which in turn contributes
to the amiable co-existence of village Buddhism and shamanism at
the village level.
 CHAPTER TWO

PERSPECTIVES ON THE PAST

This chapter looks into some aspects of Tingchim’s and Sikkim’s histori-
cal past in order to understand where Tingchim villagers came from,
how they lived in the early twentieth century, and in which way their
lives were transformed through a series of events that took place in
the course of the same century. Changes in the village’s administrative
relations with the Phodong monastery and the Palace, the settlement of
the first Nepalese in the North District in the late 1930s, the arrival of
Tibetan lamas and Rinpoches in Sikkim in the late 1950s, the expansion
of the cardamom cash crop and the shift to a market economy in the
1960s, followed by the end of the Buddhist monarchy in the mid 1970s,
are all major events which transformed the lives of Tingchim villagers.
These economic, political and religious developments influenced the
relation between village lamas, bon ritual specialists and knowledgeable
outside lamas, which in turn reshaped the face of ritual in the village.
These changes also help us understand in which way the gradual and
rather late Buddhacisation of the village contributed to the inhabitants’
dependence on the rituals of village religion and the persistence of the
shamanic worldview on which these are based.

1. Historical development of Tingchim’s political,

economic and inter-ethnic relations

Life in Tingchim in the first part of the twentieth century was described
to me by my oldest informant, Tsam Khang Ajo, who was born around
1913. Sikkim was then divided into a number of estates and Tingchim
village came under Phodong, one of the five monastic estates directly
administered by the Palace.1 The Phodong Estate or Elaka was comprised

1
The five monasteries with landed estates were Pemayangtse, Ralang, Rumtek,
Phodong and Phensang (Administration Report of the Sikkim State for the Year
1925–26).
44 chapter two

of six village blocks2 of which Tingchim was the farthest, fifteen kilome-
tres north of the Phodong monastery. It was also the only village to be
entirely Lhopo, the five others being either Lepcha or of mixed Lhopo
and Lepcha populations. The Lepcha reservation of Dzongu faced
Tingchim on the opposite bank of the river Teesta. Being surrounded
by Lepchas and living at the same altitude, the Lhopos of Tingchim
had a similar way of life based on hunting, trapping, gathering of
jungle products and slash and burn cultivation of dry rice, buckwheat
and various types of millet. Wheat and maize were cultivated in small
permanent dry fields around the houses, and rice in a few small paddy
fields below the village, which were all ploughed by hand. Mud in the
paddy fields was mixed by pulling a stone with a rope. The husband
would make a hole in the mud with a stick where the wife would place
the seed. Oxen and cows were kept in the forest above the village where
tigers, panthers, and leopards were common, and where deer, wild
boars, bears, porcupines and monkeys were trapped or hunted. From
the forest they gathered fruit, wild tea, different varieties of roots and
bamboo shoots, ferns, stinging nettles and other green leaves, half a
dozen types of mushrooms and edible flowers. The staple food was flat
bread made of millet or buckwheat as well as tsampa (rtsam pa) made of
wheat.3 Cloth was woven by women from stinging nettle fibres4 into a
long piece of material wrapped around the body and fastened with a
wooden pin on the shoulder. Medicines and lamp oil were all obtained
from the forest.
Metal was rare and food was cooked in Tibetan pots of red clay
that were bartered against grain with the Lhopos of Lachen, agro-
pastoralists living higher up the valley between Tingchim and Tibet
who acted as middlemen. Cups and bowls were made of wood and
bamboo and the village’s only piece of iron was used together with a
flint to make fire and was shared by all the households.5 However, the

2
The six village blocks of the Phodong Estate were Phodong, Ronggong, Ram-
thang, Seyam, Namok and Tingchim (Government of Sikkim Secretariat file, General
38/3/1929, Number of Houses of Phodong monastery).
3
Although tsampa is usually made from wheat or rice in Sikkim instead of barley.
4
The stalk of the stinging nettle plant was peeled and the inside white fibre was first
washed for one week, dried, beaten and then woven into different lengths of materials
used as men and women’s dress as well as sleeping sheets. There were no other types
of weaving in Tingchim.
5
An old proverb says whoever possesses a flint is a rich man and whoever owns a
sewing needle is even richer!
 perspectives on the past 45

Plate 4: Tsam Khang Ajo, my oldest informant

main barter trade with Lachen was Tibetan salt against grain—rice,
maize and buckwheat—between regular trading friends, which was
later expanded to include pins, needles and metal tools that came from
China and Tibet as well as blankets, potatoes, dried cheese and sheep
fat that were produced in the valleys of Lachen and Lachung. With the
Lepchas of Dzongu, grain was exchanged for piglets. Dye products and
wild cardamom were gathered from the jungle around Tingchim and
bartered against oil and tea with Marwaris, a merchant caste originally
from Rajasthan who first came to the area in 1895.
The first piece of manufactured cloth was brought to the village
in 1918 when my teacher Lopen Dugyal’s father went to Darjeeling
to sell eggs with his uncle and returned with a pair of white shorts,
a shirt, a cap and a pair of shoes. The trade in eggs was the first to
bring money to the village, which was used to buy rice—an expensive
delicacy—from the Marwari shops at Rangpo located on the border
with West Bengal. The eggs were bought from the Lepchas in Dzongu
46 chapter two

and carried up to Darjeeling in baskets where they were sold to the

British who had been settled there since 1835.
Although surrounded by Lepchas, the Tingchim Lhopos say they did
not inter-marry with them until recently. Both communities generally
seemed not to have trusted each other and the Lhopos rarely ventured
to the neighbouring Lepcha reservation of Dzongu except for trade
carried out with established partners. The Lepchas settled within the
Phodong Estate had more interaction with the Lhopos centred around
the monastery and its activities,6 but Dzongu was considered a danger-
ous place where Lhopos risked the possibility of being poisoned. Even
today, only a handful of Tingchim villagers have ever set foot in the
reservation and this usually on government duty. This ancient mistrust
between both communities finds its roots in the Lepchas’ feeling of
betrayal on the part of the Lhopos who failed to uphold the thirteenth
century oath of eternal friendship sworn between their respective
Tibetan and Lepcha ancestors when the former were invited to settle
in Sikkim by the Lepchas. Eventually, the Lhopos’ feelings of cultural
superiority were used to justify their efforts to rule, exploit and convert
what they perceived as happy-go-lucky forest dwellers.
Although the cultivation of cardamom as a cash crop was introduced
in Sikkim at the end of nineteenth century,7 it was only cultivated in
Tingchim in small quantities from around the 1910s in the lowest part
of the village block by the river Teesta. On average, they probably
harvested around one maund (40 kg) each,8 which was sold to the
Marwaris in the nearby bazaar of Mangan. Tsam Khang Ajo sold
his first harvest of cardamom in Mangan in the 1930s for Rs 15,9 all
collected in silver coins engraved with Emperor George V with which

6
See Chie Nakane for Bhutia (Lhopo) and Lepcha relations centred around the
monastery (Nakane 1966).
7
Edgar mentions that in 1873, cardamom was mainly cultivated in the low valleys
in the extreme west of Sikkim (1969 [1874]: 55).
8
There were twenty-one cardamom growers in Tingchim in 1924 whose combined
production was estimated at around 13 maunds (520 kg), although this had probably
been underestimated for tax evasion purposes (Government of Sikkim Secretariat file,
Land Revenue 9/9/1924, List of Cardamom Growers in Sikkim).
9
Exploitation of the Lhopos and Lepchas in these isolated regions must have been
tremendous. The Administration Report for the State of Sikkim for the Year 1907–8
mentions that the rate for cardamom at Gangtok was Rs 50 to Rs 52 per maund and
that it sold for Rs 60 to Rs 68 in Calcutta. By comparison, the Marwaris were buying
the cardamom from villagers in Mangan for Rs 5 per maund at around the same time
and Gorer even mentions that they were still paying as little as Rs 8 to the Lepchas
of Lingthem in the year 1934 (Gorer 1987 [1938]: 116).
 perspectives on the past 47

he then bought a maund of rice for Rs 8. In those years, the need for
cash was so minimal that the income from a maund of cardamom was
sufficient to cover a household’s expenses for a whole year.
Until the mid-1930s, the village’s headman, called pipon (spyi dpon),10
was nominated by the elders and was mainly responsible for taking
care of the village’s relations with the Phodong mukter,11 the agent of
the Phodong monastery who acted as administrator and revenue col-
lector for the Estate’s six village blocks. The mukter was appointed by
and was directly answerable to the Palace. Following the introduction
of cardamom, villagers paid the house tax and the land rent in cash
to the lamas of the monastery who in turn paid the house tax to the
state and retained the land rent realised from the villagers, which was
utilised for the maintenance of the monastery. In addition to these taxes,
which were gradually introduced by John Claude White, the first British
Political Officer, after his appointment in June 1889, villagers continued
to make contributions in kind to the monastery at the time of annual
rituals, just as they did prior to the introduction of White’s new taxa-
tion system. According to Tsam Khang Ajo, the monastery was then
very powerful and cases of murder, theft, and quarrels that couldn’t
be resolved by the pipon or his assistant were referred to the Phodong
lamas. Some time in the 1930s, the Tingchim pipon was replaced by a
ma al 12 by the name of Tsing Tsing appointed by the Chogyal. Tsing
Tsing Ma¸Óal became responsible for the collection of tax, which he
eventually handed over directly to the Palace following the abolishment
of landlordism in 1951 and the commencement of the first scientific
land survey the same year.
Established on a monastic estate under Palace Administration,
Tingchim villagers, along with the others of the Phodong Estate, did
not suffer under the hands of difficult landlords or the burden of heavy
taxes, as had been the case for many throughout the state. There were
very few areas in Sikkim similar to the Phodong Estate where the local

10
The pipon had an assistant headman in charge of resolving disputes called a tsomi
(’tsho mi), a tax collector or letsen (las tshan), and two assistants or messengers capable
of managing respectively one hundred and ten villagers. The latter were called gyapon
(brgya dpon) and chupon (bcu dpon).
11
The term mukter seems to originate from the Ottoman Empire. Mukhtar means
village chief or mayor in Iraq.
12
As head of the village, a pipon was nominated by the elders or in some cases,
elected by the villagers, while a ma al was appointed either by a landlord or the
Chogyal as his representative.
48 chapter two

population was protected from the intensive economic development,

which was prevalent on the estates that had been established and
developed with Nepalese labour at the end of the nineteenth century
and which were run for maximum productivity for the benefit of the
landlords and the state. In an effort to develop the state’s economy, White
had introduced a land settlement program shortly after his appointment,
known as the lessee system.13 According to the new system, the tradi-
tional land grants administered by the kajis14—the land-owning nobility
of Lepcha, Tibetan and Lhopo descent—and by a large number of
monasteries were replaced by fifteen-year leases given out to kaji and
Sikkimese landlords and ten-year leases to Nepalese landlords called
hekādār for which they paid a fixed rent to the government.15
The appointment of the first British Political Officer immediately
followed the 1888 eviction by British forces of a Tibetan garrison
occupying Lingtu within Sikkimese territory, followed by the signing of
the Anglo-Chinese Convention of 1890, which fixed the Sikkim-Tibet
boundary and acknowledged the British Government’s protectorate over
the kingdom. Sikkim had always considered itself a dependency or vas-
sal state of Tibet and had looked upon Tibet and ultimately China for
protection. After the signing of the Convention, the British were eager
to rid Sikkim of any influence Tibet might still hold in that country.
They employed what they considered hard-working Hindu Nepalese

13
For details of the lessee system, see Rose (1978: 214–16).
14
Waddell mentions that the word kaji seems “to be borrowed through the Nepa-
lese from the Mahomedan rulers of India, and to be the Persian word Kazi or Kadi, a
magistrate” (1899: 433). Indeed, Qazi were found throughout the Mughal Empire as
head of towns appointed by the imperial court. The Sikkimese equivalent for kaji is
lönpo (blon po—minister). A ruling kaji—usually the eldest son—was referred to by the
Lepcha term of address ‘athing’.
15
Lall mentions that White initially created 24 lessee estates (1981: 229). Accord-
ing to the Annual Report for the year 1926–27, there were by then 69 lessee estates
in Sikkim. These were held on 15-year lease by 46 different landlords of whom 21
were kajis, six Bhutias, eight Lepchas, ten Nepalese and one a plainsman. In addition
to these 69 lessee estates, there were 24 estates under direct control of the state, 16
under the managers of the Private Estates of the Chogyal and five estates whose land
revenue was allocated for the upkeep of the five big monasteries.
These figures do not include the private estates of the kajis from which they obtained
their revenue and which were held in exchange for services rendered at the Palace
prior to British intervention. These holdings were non-taxable up to one hundred acres.
Tenancy agreements were in use on the private estates of the kajis long before the
arrival of the first Nepalese tenant farmers. There were various arrangements, a recent
one being that the tenant farmer turned in fifty percent of the paddy, the cardamom
and the straw and retained all of the winter crops.
 perspectives on the past 49

migrants, who served the double purpose of developing the country’s

economy and creating a state revenue, as well as weakening the influ-
ence of the Buddhist Sikkimese and their ties with Tibet. Indeed, the
Nepalese were already in the majority by the end of the nineteenth
century.16 However, a large and sparsely populated section of North
Sikkim, north of the market of Dikchu, including the Phodong Estate,
the Lepcha reservation of Dzongu, and the high valleys of Lachen and
Lachung were closed to Nepalese migration and did not come under
the lessee system.17
The traditional land grants taken from the monasteries18 and the kajis
by J.C. White were redistributed and leased out to lessee landlords19
who were greatly encouraged by the British to bring in large numbers
of labourers from Nepal in order to increase the state’s as well as their

16
Risley’s often quoted prediction for Sikkim reads as follows: “[t]he influx of these
hereditary enemies of Tibet is our surest guarantee against a revival of Tibetan influ-
ence. Here also religion will play a leading part. In Sikhim, as in India, Hinduism will
assuredly cast out Buddhism, and the praying-wheel of the Lama will give place to the
sacrificial implements of the Brahman. The land will follow the creed; the Tibetan
proprietors will gradually be dispossessed, and will betake themselves to the petty trade
for which they have an undeniable aptitude” (1894: xxi).
17
“His Highness deems fit that the interests of the indigenous and backward people,
in the North Sikkim area require, as hitherto, to be duly safeguarded,
His Highness is pleased to order that the rules relating to the settlement and/or the
carrying on of any occupation in such areas (i.e. North of the line formed by the Dick
Chhu from the Chola, down the Tista to Ranghap Chhu, up the Ranghap Chhu till it
meets 27.25 minutes latitude and thence along it to the Western border to Sikkim) by
outsiders (non-indigenous) only on a permit issued by the Sikkim Darbar shall continue
to hold force.” (Proclamation of His Highness Sir Tashi Namgyal, 30 August 1956).
18
The system of administration and collection of revenue prevalent in Sikkim prior
to White’s reorganisation of the administration and introduction of a system of revenue
collection in cash, is not clear. However, it is clear from the History of Sikkim that the
lamas’ role in tax collection (in kind) as well as in local and state administration prior
to British intervention in 1890 must have been substantial. Indeed, half the members
of the lhade mide (lha sde mi sde), Sikkim’s traditional state council, consisted of lamas
until it was changed by J.C. White who retained only one seat for the head lama of
Pemayangtse monastery. As part of White’s land reform, Sikkim’s 35 monasteries
lost part or all their land holdings with the exception of five important monasteries
which included Phodong. The general working of the administration and system of
land revenue in force between 1890 and 1973 are given in Leo Rose’s article on the
modernisation of the traditional administrative system of Sikkim (1978: 205–26).
19
Leo Rose mentions that “[i]n the course of the land settlement program, the
political officer summoned all the kajis to Gangtok to have the land grants they had
received from the Namgyals changed to leases. Several of the kajis who had supported
Chogyal Thutob Namgyal against the British refused to come, and were then stripped
of their landholdings” (1978: 215 fn10). My informants indicated, however, that the
new landlords created by the British have generally not been accepted amongst the
ranks of the original landed nobility.
50 chapter two

own revenue by getting the immigrant labourers to clear the jungles

and bring large tracks of land under irrigated terraced cultivation.20
These lessee landlords were further encouraged by the fact that their
land rent remained fixed and did not increase with productivity. The
landlords were responsible for the collection of taxes, for extracting
jharla gī (forced labour) from the villagers and for the maintenance of
law and order within the estates under their jurisdiction. In 1911, the
rent the tenant had to pay to the landlord for rice fields on the lessee
estates was twenty-five percent of the crop.21 According to this assess-
ment in kind known as ku (contract), twenty-five percent of the gross
produce—before seeds were set aside for sowing—had to be turned
over to the landlord or manager of the estate, which represents at least
fifty percent of the net produce.22 Although landlordism was abolished
in 1951, we will see that a similar form of ku is still practised today all
over Sikkim between the tenant farmers of Nepalese origin and their
Lhopo/Lepcha and Nepalese landowners.
Protected from these heavy taxes and intensive economic develop-
ments prevailing on the lessee estates, Tingchim villagers were nev-
ertheless subject to a limited amount of compulsory paid labour and
porterage duty that were enforced everywhere in Sikkim. Until 1924,
all villagers had to furnish eighteen days a year of free labour to the
state, the landlord and the ma al,23 but in practice, this system was

20
Before the British took over the administration of the country, Sikkimese opinion
about Nepalese migration was highly divided. The Chogyal and his trusted council-
lors along with the Pemayangtse lamas opposed it vehemently while some kajis such
as the Khangsapa brothers—encouraged by the British in Darjeeling—started settling
Nepalese on their estates from as early as the 1870s.
J.W. Edgar, Deputy Commissioner of Darjeeling, during his tour of Sikkim in 1873
reported that Nepalese were numerous in the south-west of Sikkim, around Namchi
and Dhurmden [Daramdin], while “there are very few Nepalese in other parts of the
country; and the Guntuck [Gangtok] Kazi told me he would not allow a Nepalese to
settle within his jurisdiction. When I asked the reason, he said that they wasted the
forests; that they allow their cattle to trespass; that they made themselves unpleasant
neighbours in other ways; lastly—and I believe this to be the true reason—that the
people of Sikkim had suffered so much in the past from Nepal, that they distrusted
and dreaded all Paharias” (1969 [1874]: 74–75).
21
Rent for dry fields and cardamom was paid in cash.
22
According to Barmiok Kaji “[t]he koot system was in vogue in Sikkim from the
very beginning when terraced rice fields were started” which should coincide with
the settlement of the first Nepalese tenants in the south-western region of Sikkim in
the 1870s (Sikkim State Archives, file 37, Land Revenue, Complaints of raiyots of
Sikkim, 21/1/1911).
23
Sikkimese peasants were expected to provide seven days of free labour in a year
to the state, one day in the year for road repairing, six days in the year to the landlord
 perspectives on the past 51

open to abuse to the extent that under certain landlords, the villagers
had little time left to look after their own fields.24 In 1924, the Palace
tried to check the situation by abolishing free labour and replacing it by
a system of compulsory paid labour.25 But the landlords did not imple-
ment the new order, abuses persisted and in 1929 the Palace attempted
to abolish the entire system but the British Political Officer objected.26
The system led to revolt in the 1930s and porterage duty and forced
labour were eventually abolished in 1945 and 1947 respectively.
Tingchim was not only spared the harassment of servitude experi-
enced by many under the lessee landlords but was also protected against
Nepalese settlement and the importation of a foreign language and
culture within the boundary of their village and the Phodong Estate
until 1938 when the first Nepalese settlement was created in neighbour-
ing Mangshila on the southern border of Tingchim Block.
For this reason, Tingchim’s social organisation, political economy
and religious culture remained fairly undisturbed compared to other
Lhopo villages that came under the influence of Nepalese culture
decades earlier. In the year 1938, a group of a dozen Limbus from
eastern Nepal, were granted permission by Sir Tashi Namgyal to settle

and four to the ma al. Note from Barmiok Kaji dated 30 Oct 1911 (Sikkim State
Archives, file 37, Land Revenue, Complaints of raiyots of Sikkim, 21/1/1911).
24
In Tingchim, the villagers didn’t entirely escape the abuses of forced labour and
experienced difficulties under Kunga Gyaltsen, a monk of the Phodong monastery and
Phodong mukter from 1922 until 1934, who abused his rights to free labour and falsified
the number of houses under his jurisdiction in order to pocket some of the house tax
which should normally have been handed over to the state. Tingchim villagers were
regularly called for legitimate porterage duty for the state but the mukter also forced
them to work on his personal fields. The villagers of Tingchim, Namok and Seyam
took their revenge by submitting a written complaint to the Palace in 1929, openly
denouncing the mukter’s house tax embezzling activities (Petition dated 25th July 1929.
Sikkim State Archives, General, file 546, Number of Houses of Phodong Monastery
38/3/1929). The court case lasted three years but the villagers eventually won and their
revolt is cited as a good example of the northern Sikkimese confrontational attitude for
which they have a reputation and which is often contrasted with the Lepchas’ timidity
and the western Sikkimese Lhopos’ polite and less direct manners.
25
General Department Circular No. 5814/G to all Landlords of the Sikkim State.
15 July 1924.
26
In a letter located in the State Archives at Gangtok, the British Political Officer
replied to the Palace’s suggestion to abolish forced labour on the 3rd of December
1929: “[t]o upset the custom, whereby an Ilakadar [landlord] can claim Jharlangi for
his private purposes as much times as his bustiwallas [primary land holder] are free
from work on their fields would cause unnecessary unrest and neither Ilakadar nor
bustiwallas would know where they were. A time for changing their custom will come
when a new revenue system is instituted. This note to be treated ‘confidential’ ”—the
Political Officer at that particular time was Major J.L.R. Weir.
52 chapter two

Map 2: Tingchim village block and the Phodong Estate

 perspectives on the past 53

and open fields within the Phodong Estate at Mangshila.27 They ini-
tially worked as labourers for the Tingchim Lhopos in return for food
until they had cleared sufficient fields for themselves. They cleared
the jungle of dangerous beasts and helped Tingchim villagers carve
paddy terraces below the lake, and like Nepalese did everywhere in
Sikkim, taught them how to plough and practise permanent irrigated
agriculture. The most significant changes brought about in Tingchim
by the arrival of Limbu settlers were first in the expansion of methods
of cultivation and later in the transformation of the whole economic
structure of the region.
As the area under permanent cultivation gradually expanded, the
need for shifting cultivation diminished and by the early 1960s, the
vast area above and behind the village normally used for slash and
burn agriculture, cattle grazing and gathering of jungle products was
converted to the cultivation of the cardamom cash crop. The village’s
total production of cardamom down by the river in 1924 was around
eight hundred kilos, while the 1995 yield cultivated up in the forest
behind the village was just under one hundred tons providing an aver-
age annual income per household corresponding to the salary of a
school teacher. With the expansion of the cardamom fields, Tingchim
villagers not only joined a global market economy, they became mini-
landlords themselves and started employing cheap Nepalese labourers
who eventually settled as tenant farmers on their land from the early
1960s to work their grain and cardamom fields. Unlike the land-owning
Mangshila Limbus, these Nepalese labourers were landless immigrants
who recently came from Nepal in search of work during the cardamom
harvest and who remained in Sikkim as tenant farmers under various
tenancy agreements.
These tenants first came to Tingchim in small numbers, building
huts in the lower parts of the village in the early 1960s. However, their
numbers have steadily increased and today they already outnumber the
Lhopos in Tingchim Block. Similarly, the Limbu population of neigh-
bouring Mangshila has also increased at a much faster rate than that
of the Lhopos. Mangshila has close to two thousand Limbu inhabitants
while Tingchim’s Lhopo population of around two hundred and sixty
has barely doubled since the 1920s. This Nepalese population explosion

27
Government of Sikkim Secretariat file, General 38/3/1929, Number of Houses
of Phodong monastery.
54 chapter two

is not only due to their high birth rate but also to the constant flow of
new immigrants arriving from Nepal in search of economic opportuni-
ties in Sikkim. Contrary to the Limbus of Mangshila who are the only
Nepalese who were eventually granted the right of land ownership in
North Sikkim, these more recent Nepalese migrant workers may not
own or purchase land from their Lhopo or Lepcha employers—Land
Revenue Order No. 1 of 1917, which is still in force, prevents anyone
but Bhutias (Lhopos) and Lepchas from acquiring such land. Eventually,
the use of tenant farmers and the expansion of the cardamom cash-
crop from the 1960s gradually brought money and independence from
co-villagers by changing the traditional work exchange system whereby
each Lhopo family was dependant on neighbours and relatives for the
mutual exchange of labour during sowing and harvesting times.
Today, at the top of the village block is forest land used for keeping
cattle, hunting and food gathering. Still within the forest but above the
village houses, are large cardamom fields. The houses themselves are
located around and just below the mani lhakhang (ma ni lha khang),28 the
village’s prayer hall, at 1,300 metres. They are surrounded by vegetable
gardens and dry fields of maize, millet, wheat, barley and ginger, below
which are paddy and more cardamom fields that extend all the way
down to the river Teesta at an altitude of 800 metres. The majority
of the Nepalese tenants have built their houses a long distance away
from the Lhopo houses among the lower fields in the warmer altitudes
of the block.
The next major change for Tingchim came about with the end of
the Buddhist monarchy, when Sikkim joined the Union of India in 1975
followed by the introduction of the Panchayat Raj system of local gov-
ernment in 1976 along with party politics at the village level. In 1978,
the Bhutias29 and Lepchas of Sikkim were declared a Scheduled Tribe
by the Constitution Order of 1978, a status that ensures seat reservation
in education, scholarship, and employment in the State and Central
Governments to India’s indigenous people and makes them the benefi-

28
Mani lhakhang literally means house of gods and is basically the village’s prayer hall.
A mani lhakhang, as opposed to a monastery, does not have living quarters for lamas.
29
According to the Constitution (Sikkim) Scheduled Tribes Order, 1978, the Bhut-
ias as a scheduled tribe also include Chumbipa, Dopthapa, Dukpa, Kagatay, Sherpa,
Tibetan, Tromopa, Yolmo. This definition of the Bhutia tribal category was copied
directly from the Scheduled Tribes Order of West Bengal, and thus, did not specifically
mention the Lhopos, presumably under the understanding that they are commonly
referred to as Bhutia in Sikkim.
 perspectives on the past 55

ciaries of a number of allocations and welfare schemes. From then on,

the village headman, an appointed and respected elder, was replaced
by an elected villager—usually young—whose main duty was to seek
and administer the various rural development projects and funds that
were allocated to tribals by the State and Central Governments. The
new abundance of Nepalese labour and expansion of cardamom fields
into the forest where shifting cultivation had previously been practised
resulted in endless boundary disputes, which were for the most part
settled when the second land survey was carried out in the late 1970s.
Private landed property was fixed and individual maps were issued,
which also meant that villagers could no longer encroach on the forest
and government land. Since fields are inherited and divided more or
less equally among sons, a need was felt for making the existing fields
more profitable or to look towards new economic ventures. After a few
disastrous experiences, Tingchim villagers concluded that they had little
talent for business, but schooling had become accessible in the 1960s
and with it, the prospect of a government job. Many were successful
in finding jobs when the bureaucracy was expanded after 1975 and
a total of ten percent of Tingchim’s population is currently on the
government’s payroll, as post-master, agricultural field man, teacher,
police officer in Gangtok, etc. Electricity, immediately followed by tele-
vision, was brought to the village in 1987, and with it, the discovery
of new horizons and a world of consumerism. In November 1995,
the first satellite dish was installed in Tingchim beaming in American
soaps from Hong Kong.
The 1990s brought a shift in the course of these developments. The
government stopped hiring and since there is virtually no industry in
Sikkim, unemployment among graduates throughout the state became
rampant. Young villagers turned back to the land as a safe means of
income. Since fields can’t be expanded and are still being divided,
they have been experimenting since 1992 with ginger as a new cash
crop and permanent grain fields, for the first time, are gradually being
converted into cash crops. Realising the value of their land has also
sparked a new trend in attempting to expel Nepalese tenants in order
to personally cultivate the fields following the old work exchange system
or by hiring poor Lhopo villagers on a daily wage basis.
The Lhopos’ relation with the Mangshila Limbus as well as with
Tingchim’s Nepalese tenants has generally been very positive over the
years. But this original atmosphere of mutual help and gratefulness is
gradually deteriorating due to these new economic and demographic
56 chapter two

pressures and through the external manipulations of political parties.

Village unity and equality among households is highly praised and
although Tingchim villagers resent the changes that brought tensions
and divisions among themselves in recent decades, they do not look upon
the past as a golden era. Rather, they are grateful for the educational
and medical facilities and economic opportunities now available to
them despite a certain nostalgia for the loss of their Buddhist kingdom.
Looking at the past, their main regret and longing eyes focus on the
Limbu settlement of Mangshila. Had the Nepalese Limbus never been
invited to settle here in the 1930s, all these lush paddy and cardamom
fields would now be theirs to harvest.

2. Relation between BON and Buddhism or the creation

of village religion

In Tingchim village, the time when a pawo in trance first asked for a
Buddhist ritual to be performed and the villagers did not know what
he meant, is still remembered. It is difficult to say when this could
have been, but the Kagyud monastery of Phodong, the first to be
built in the North District, was established as late as 1740, a whole
century after the foundation of Sikkim as a Buddhist kingdom. Until
the 1930s, no men from Tingchim were lamas in Phodong, and the
monastery, located some fifteen kilometres south of the village, was
visited only once a year by Tingchim villagers on the occasion of
the exorcistic rituals and annual cham dances held before Losung, the
Sikkimese farmer’s New Year. In those days, Buddhism was primarily
confined to the monasteries, their surrounding villages, the capital and
the Palace. Although villagers considered themselves Buddhist, there
were no lamas in Tingchim at the end of the nineteenth century. For
all rituals performed for the benefit of the individual, the household,
the lineage and the village, people were dependent on different types
of shamans who were numerous and powerful.
Buddhism then gradually took over as the main ritual practice of
the village in three distinctive phases. At the beginning of the twentieth
century, Tingchim villagers received the first major Buddhist influence
that present villagers can remember from the Lachen Gomchen, later
to be known throughout Sikkim for his powers and peculiar character,
and famous beyond Sikkim’s borders as a teacher of Alexandra David-
Neel. The Lachen Gomchen was born in neighbouring Namok and
 perspectives on the past 57

meditated for some twenty years in the forests above Tingchim, Namok
and Phodong.30 From his retreat above Tingchim, he is said to have
prevented pawo and nejum from being born in all the surrounding vil-
lages. He told villagers that with their drums and bells, the pawo and
nejum kept waking up the nöpa, the ambiguous supernatural beings of
the locality who could otherwise sleep for many decades if left undis-
turbed. Not a single pawo or nejum was born in Tingchim while the
Lachen Gomchen was present and the necessary rituals for the pho
lha mo lha and supernatural beings of the land were performed by Ajo
Nakshong without the medium of trance or the beating of drums. Once
the Lachen Gomchen left for Tibet and eventually resettled a few days
walk higher up the valley in Lachen, Tingchim got a new pawo and the
practice was rekindled, but to a lesser degree.
Until the 1930s, the practice of Buddhism in Tingchim was limited
to the undertaking of meditation retreats in the forest by a few aspir-
ing lamas in admiration of the Lachen Gomchen. The knowledge they
acquired seems to have been for their own benefit and accumulation
of merit although the tantric powers they gained in the course of their
practice were also used for the benefit of villagers when asked to perform
household rituals for the sick during the winter. Their knowledge of
Buddhism was limited to the practice of meditation, the use of mantras,
the recitation of ritual texts of which they usually did not understand
the meaning, and the procedure to be followed during funerals, which
in those days were still a simple affair. In the 1910s, there were only
two or three such lamas in Tingchim, and by 1930 there were seven of
them who were, for the most part, affiliated to the Phodong monastery,
with the exception of one family of hereditary lamas affiliated to the
Nyingma monastery of Labrang, also located in Phodong. Although
belonging to different sects and monasteries, all the lamas of Tingchim
performed their duties together within the village. Until the late 1920s,
lamas never performed community rituals at the village’s prayer hall,
which had until then been the meeting place for the older women of
the village to pray ever since the construction of Tingchim’s first prayer

30
After his retreat, the Lachen Gomchen travelled extensively in Tibet where he
received teachings and eventually settled in Lachen upon his return to Sikkim. The
present tulku of the Lachen Gomchen was born at Yangang in South Sikkim and
now resides at Gangtok. Until recently, he was the only Sikkimese tulku belonging to
a Sikkimese lineage, all others being reincarnations belonging to Tibetan spiritual
lineages.
58 chapter two

hall at the end of the nineteenth century.31 There were no Buddhist

community rituals nor did the lamas celebrate the important days of
the Buddhist calendar. Despite the Lachen Gomchen’s influence, until
1930, community, lineage, household and, to a large extent, individual
religious matters, were still in the hands of the shamans.
The second phase was marked by the passage of Sakya Lama Tshoda
Gyatso from the great Sakya (Sa skya) monastery in Tibet, who stopped
in Tingchim at the end of the 1920s on his way to a pilgrimage in
India when he was asked by the Lachen Gomchen to help take control
of an epidemic in the village. As part of the remedy, the Sakya Lama
instructed the village lamas to perform the annual Buddhist rituals on
a regular basis within the village’s prayer hall. Lamas received training
from the Phodong lamas on how to perform these rituals and, from then
on, Buddhism stopped being individualistic and became an occupation
of the community where the villagers’ participation both in presence
and in contributions was required.

Plate 5: Tingchim’s prayer hall or mani lhakhang located just above

the village

31
Village prayer halls or mani lhakhang are used throughout Sikkim as a place for
the women of the village over child-bearing age to meet and pray on the 8th, 15th
and 30th of each lunar month. Their main practice is that of Chenresig, the Buddha
of Compassion.
 perspectives on the past 59

During Tingchim’s third Buddhist phase, which was initiated by the

arrival of Tibetan Rinpoches in Sikkim following the Chinese takeover
of their country in 1959, the transformation of the village’s ritual
practice continued following the influence of the 16th Karmapa who
eliminated the practice of animal sacrifice in the village. Buddhism
effectively took over as the community’s main ritual practice when in
the early 1960s, the annual mangchö (mang mchod) community ritual, that
required the sacrificial offering of an ox for all the supernatural beings
of the land, was abandoned and replaced by the Buddhist Bumkor (’bum
bskor), whereby the Buddhist scriptures were taken out to bless the village
houses, as the village’s most important ritual of the year.
Gradually, Buddhism timidly imposed itself and emerged as the most
prestigious form of ritual while still accommodating bon and without
even openly trying or succeeding to eliminate that practice in its totality.
The Lachen Gomchen’s, the Sakya Lama’s and the 16th Karmapa’s
efforts were all directed at specific aspects of bon such as animal sacri-
fice or spirit possession without trying to eliminate the ritual practice
as a whole. The 16th Karmapa is even said to have encouraged the
Tingchim Lhopos to maintain their ritual offerings in honour of their pho
lha mo lha. Today, the village lamas, the pawo, the nejum and the bongthing
are thought to generally get on and work together for the welfare of

Plate 6: Village lamas performing an annual ritual in the mani lhakhang

60 chapter two

the people. We will see that this tolerated co-existence finds its best
expression in the annual chirim (spyi rim—‘common ritual’), where lamas
and the bongthing momentarily officiate together within the precinct of
the village’s prayer hall (see chapter 10). In the wider context, their
tolerated co-existence also found expression in the past during state
rituals performed at the Palace chapel at Gangtok.
The late spread of Buddhism in remote areas of Sikkim such as
Tingchim, with the consequence of the preservation of shamanism, had
other historical reasons. Buddhism firmly took root in Sikkim follow-
ing the establishment of the Buddhist monarchy in 1642 and the
efforts of Sikkim’s Patron Saints and subsequent lamas and Chogyals—
particularly that of the third king Chagdor Namgyal—to convert the
indigenous Lepchas and build the first monasteries. Powerful Bud-
dhist institutions such as the large celibate monasteries of central Tibet,
which would have contributed to a rapid spread of Buddhism and
suppression of bon, never developed in Sikkim for a number of demo-
graphic, political and economic reasons. According to the earliest census,
Sikkim’s Lhopo and Lepcha population in 1891 was just over 10,000
and the lamas numbered less than one thousand. The Phodong mon-
astery registered one hundred lamas in 1891 (Gazetteer of Sikkim 1894:
257) from the surrounding villages who gathered there only on special
occasions. There were no towns and this small Sikkimese population
was dispersed throughout jungles and forests. There were no centres
for higher Buddhist studies within Sikkim and only a few could afford
to travel to the Tibetan Nyingma and Kagyud head monasteries of
Mindroling (sMin ’gro gling), Dorje Drak (rDo rje brag) and Tsurpu
(Tshor phu) in central Tibet for the study of Tibetan grammar and
Buddhist philosophy. Most Sikkimese practised shifting cultivation and
rare were those who had any surplus food or free time allowing them
to travel for the purpose of study or pilgrimage.
Celibate monasteries never found fertile grounds in Sikkim. We have
seen that although Chagdor Namgyal had initially created Pemayangtse,
the premier monastery of Sikkim, as a celibate monastery in 1705,
it did not survive in this form. An important factor, which may have
discouraged the maintenance of celibate monasteries, was the chronic
shortage of agricultural labour among the Lhopos prior to the settle-
ment of Nepalese tenant farmers. This shortage of labour encouraged
brothers to stay together to work their parents’ fields for as long as
their respective families got on and must have made it very difficult to
spare the labour of one brother and support him as a full time celibate
 perspectives on the past 61

lama in the monastery. The only attempt to create a celibate monastery

after Pemayangtse was by Taring Rinpoche32 with the support of the
late Queen Mother33 and ended in complete disaster with every single
monk breaking his vows and eventually taking up married life. Some
Sikkimese think that one of the reasons why celibate monks eventually
break their vows in Sikkim is because Sikkimese society expects them to
look after their parents in old age if no other brothers are capable of
doing so, an obligation for which they require a wife and the income
of a household. And once married, lamas are again back in the com-
munity, dependant on its solidarity and celebrating its communality.
The fact that Sikkimese lamas were not celibate and had to look after
their fields and families also contributed to their failure to maintain a
strong position in the politics of Sikkim comparable to that of the Gelug
monasteries of central Tibet.34 And perhaps for the same reason, the
system of tulku, or spiritual reincarnation, never took root in Sikkim.
Most knowledgeable lamas, monastery abbots and realised gomchen
had sons, and knowledge, spiritual power and property was passed
on to them rather than onto a tulku chosen by the monastery.35 With
the exception of the Lachen Gomchen, the few Sikkimese tulku were
reincarnations of Tibetan lamas or Rinpoches belonging to Tibetan
spiritual lineages. Thus, by comparison with Tibet, Sikkim’s indigenous
masters were not reincarnated lamas at the head of powerful monastic
estates but non-celibate monastery abbots or dorje lopen (rdo rje slob dpon)

32
Taring Rinpoche (1886–1947), also known as Changzod Kusho or Lhatsun Tenzing
Pawo was considered a reincarnation of Lhatsun Namkha Jigme. He was the
son of Maharani Yeshe Dolma and thus the half-brother of Sir Tashi Namgyal, the
11th Chogyal of Sikkim.
33
Sir Tashi Namgyal’s wife, Maharani Kunzang Dechen Tshomo Namgyal
(1904–1987), was the daughter of Rakashar Depon Tenzing Namgyal, a General in
the Tibetan Army.
34
Whether celibate or not, the chance to maintain a strong monk-body became an
impossibility once the majority of the monasteries were stripped of their landhold-
ings by White at the end of the nineteenth century and the holdings redistributed to
newly appointed landlords. The creation of the lessee estates greatly strengthened the
lessee-landlords who then kept a large portion of the agricultural surplus which could
have been used to support celibate monasteries by the state which in turn would have
strengthened the monarchy. White’s re-organisation of the lhade mide, the traditional
state council where the lamas and the laity were represented in equal numbers, further
stripped the monasteries of the political authority they had enjoyed all over Sikkim
prior to British intervention.
35
Regarding this subject, Hooker mentions: “I never heard of any Sikkim Lama
arriving at such sanctity as to be considered immortal, and to reappear after death in
another individual, nor is there any election of infants” (1855 [1987]: vol. 1, 342).
62 chapter two

who had climbed the ranks of their local monastery’s hierarchy through
study and seniority as well as elusive gomchen who spent their lives in
the forests from where they were said to perform miracles and reach
high levels of self-realisation.36 Sikkim was renowned throughout the
Tibetan Buddhist world as a beyul blessed by Guru Rinpoche where
results in meditation were easily obtained.
Had celibate monasteries taken root in Sikkim, we could have
expected that shamanism would have disappeared more rapidly as it
did among the Sherpas where the establishment of Nyingma celibate
monasteries in the twentieth century wiped out shamanism in a few
decades (Ortner 1995). Nevertheless, Sikkimese monasteries did have
an impact on shamans and village religion, although much slower, and
limited to the immediate villages surrounding them. For example, animal
sacrifice has effectively been eradicated from the villages surrounding
Phodong monastery and there are hardly any active Lhopo pawo or
nejum left in West Sikkim where the influence of Buddhism has been
greatest since the seventeenth century. The last great pawo of the area,
Chongpung Ajo Pawo, who passed away in 1994, had incorporated the
invocation of high Buddhist deities37 in his chanting under the influ-
ence of the Pemayangtse lamas, something I never heard chanted by
the pawo in Tingchim.
The survival of bon rituals in Sikkimese villages such as Tingchim
reveals that, however Buddhist the Lhopos might have been prior to
the establishment of the kingdom, the Buddhacisation of Sikkim, which
was initiated by Sikkim’s Patron Saints in the seventeenth century, was
never completed. The transformation is still an ongoing process of
which the most recent phase may appear as a ‘revival’. An important
development, which had significant consequences for the development
of Buddhism all over Sikkim, was the arrival of Tibetan Nyingma and
Kagyud Rinpoches and highly knowledgeable lamas from Tibet who
settled in Sikkim as refugees from the late 1950s. The most prominent
Rinpoches who have made contributions to Sikkim’s Buddhist develop-
ment are, among the Nyingmapa, Dudjom Rinpoche and Dodrupchen

36
Sikkim’s last famous gomchen, including the Lachen Gomchen, were Lingdok
Gomchen and Labrang Gomchen who meditated in two neighbouring cottages on a
hilltop above Gangtok called Taktse (See Silverstone 1973).
37
Towards the beginning of his invocation, which I had the chance to record in
1993, Chongpung Ajo Pawo made offerings to: bla ma, yi dam, dpa’ bo, mkha’ ’gro, chos
skyong, srug ma, phyogs bcu na bzhugs pa’i sangs rgyas, sangs rgyas and byang chub sems dpa’.
 perspectives on the past 63

Rinpoche,38 the latter having established the large Chorten monastery

at Deorali near Gangtok mainly for Bhutanese monks from eastern
Bhutan; and among the Kagyudpa, the 16th Karmapa who established
the international headquarters of the Karma Kagyud at the Dharma
Chakra Centre at Rumtek. Although his monastery was mainly for
Tibetan monks, the 16th Karmapa had a profound influence over the
minority Kagyud villages of Sikkim such as Tingchim just as Dudjom
Rinpoche did over the Sikkimese Nyingma villages around the same
period. Other knowledgeable Tibetan lamas and Rinpoches found
employment in the newly established Namgyal Research Institute of
Tibetology (1958) and the Government of Sikkim’s first Institute of
Higher Nyingma Studies (founded in 1960) which was reserved for the
education of Sikkimese lamas. These institutes and monasteries became
the first centres for higher Buddhist teachings within Sikkim.39
As in the case of the high lama of Sakya who visited Tingchim in
the late 1920s, the people of Tingchim usually only consulted high
lamas collectively in the case of deadly epidemics, which their local
ritual specialists could not control. From the village’s point of view,
conventional Buddhism and its Rinpoches was something that lay
outside and beyond the reach of the village until the 1960s. Buddhism
was both incredibly precious and somewhat intangible. It had little to
do with village daily life. Village lamas’ greatest achievement was to
go on pilgrimage or to study in Tibet. They came back with tales and
accomplishments which raised their position locally. This changed in
the 1960s when villagers expanded their cardamom cash-crop fields
and hired Limbu workers. A surplus of time and money was created,
which could, as among the wealthy Sikkimese of Gangtok, be invested
in the practice and study of Buddhism as well as for the biomedical and
ritual treatment of individual cases of illness and the secular education
of children. The consultation of newly available Tibetan Rinpoches
increased and became even more essential since the practice of animal
sacrifice as the ultimate cure in cases of illness was simultaneously
abandoned under the influence of the 16th Karmapa.40 The practice
of sending village lama-students to the newly established Institute of

38
Dodrupchen Rinpoche is currently the most important Buddhist figure residing
in Sikkim and serves as a uniting force for its Buddhist population.
39
On the contributions of Tibetan lamas to the establishment of Buddhism in
Sikkim after 1959, see Gyatso (2005, 2006).
40
Dudjum Rinpoche had a similar influence on the Nyingma villages in Sikkim.
64 chapter two

Higher Nyingma Studies did not happen in Tingchim until much later
as the Institute, although opened in 1960, was still unofficially reserved
for candidates from Sikkimese Nyingma villages. Nevertheless, more
lamas were trained locally and, by 1985, there were nineteen active
lamas in Tingchim.
Further changes occurred following the end of the Buddhist monar-
chy and Sikkim’s integration within the Union of India in 1975. Bud-
dhism was no longer the base of the village’s relations with the outside
world through the Phodong monastery and the Palace’s Administra-
tion. These changes resulted in a marked reduction in attendance and
contribution to the annual Buddhist community rituals in post-1975
Sikkim. While the community aspect of Buddhism was slowly dying
out, the Tibetan lamas offered new educational alternatives that gained
popularity for the personal achievement and career prospects they could
lead to. Since 1985, fifteen young lama-students from Tingchim have
been sent for Buddhist studies outside the village to the monastic school
in Rumtek, the monastic school in Phodong, and the government’s
Institute for Higher Nyingma Studies in Gangtok. This brings the
number of active and studying lamas in Tingchim to thirty, the high-
est ever recorded number of lamas for the village. But with the new
educational opportunities offered by the Tibetan lamas, the traditional
patterns of learning and practice were changed. They study in large
institutes from an early age and meditate in special centres instead of
following in the footsteps of their gomchen ancestors who retreated to
the mountain above their village. As a result, the new lamas do not
study Sikkim’s particular Buddhist traditions brought by its founding
lamas or have any knowledge of the supernatural beings of the land,
their own pho lha mo lha, or how to serve the simple needs of their fel-
low villagers. Nor have they established ties of mutual help and future
ritual obligations towards villagers who would have brought them food
during their retreats above the village. They have been segregated and
elevated above their community and are now said to look down upon
the senior lamas of their own village monasteries.
In recent years, lama-students from the Institute for Higher Nyingma
Studies have been criticised for joining the institution with the sole
purpose of obtaining a college degree that will qualify them for gov-
ernment employment, with the result that these lama-graduates usually
no longer return to the village to serve their community. Others from
Kagyud villages have joined the monastic school at the Dharma Chakra
Centre at Rumtek and other Tibetan institutions in North Bengal
 perspectives on the past 65

although these students, upon completion of their studies, are often

sent abroad to teach in the Kagyud centres scattered throughout the
world and seldom return to their villages of origin. Chogyal Wangchuk
Namgyal41 seems well aware of these problems and, in the late 1990s,
established an imposing monastic school and retreat centre at Taktse
near Gangtok where lamas throughout the state are sponsored and
given the opportunity to study Buddhist philosophy as well as Lhatsun
Namkha Jigme’s teachings and undertake meditation retreats within the
Nyingma tradition. These lamas are not given college degrees and are
expected to return to their village monasteries in order to help raise
the level of scholarship, discipline and understanding of Buddhism at
the village level.42

3. Origins and migrations of the Lhopos

The various origins and times of migration of the Sikkimese Lhopos

have not yet been completely established and are still the subject of
speculation and debate. Hopefully, historical and archaeological research
will one day shed light on these questions although few original manu-
scripts and historical records are believed to have survived the Gorkha
invasion of the late eighteenth century. The various origins, which
had been pieced together from surviving documents and oral histories
presented in the History of Sikkim (Namgyal 1908), mainly relate the
possible antecedents of the Namgyal dynasty and related clans and
lineages, and make little mention of the origins of the commoner Sik-
kimese Lhopos such as the people of Tingchim.
The origins of the Chogyals of Sikkim is a complex question, which
has not yet been elucidated by historians. The various histories that
have been put forward usually claim that the Chogyals descend from
a Minyak prince by the name of Guru Tashi who left Kham Minyak

41
Prince Wangchuk was spontaneously ‘appointed’ Chogyal by the people immedi-
ately after his father, Chogyal Palden Thondup Namgyal’s cremation in 1982 (Bobb,
India Today, March 15, 1982). The title is of course ceremonial and unrecognized; it
is however maintained by many Sikkimese for emotional reasons.
42
Interestingly, Chogyal Wangchuk Namgyal has made a new attempt at establish-
ing a celibate monastery at the Palace chapel in the 1990s where, by the year 2000,
out of 55 lamas, seven had taken full celibate vows. However, a few years later, I was
told that most had renounced their vows.
66 chapter two

in eastern Tibet and came to Chumbi via Lhasa and Sakya in central
Tibet in the thirteenth century. His influence eventually extended to
the rest of Sikkim where his descendant Phuntsog Namgyal was made
Sikkim’s first Chogyal in 1642.

3.1. Notes on the origins of the Namgyal dynasty

The precise origins of Guru Tashi’s princely lineage in eastern Tibet
have remained obscure. The various origin accounts, which have been
put forward in the History of Sikkim, have been published by Rock (1953)
and thus are not reproduced here. However, there are indications sug-
gesting that one of these origin accounts, which is mentioned in the
History of Sikkim but eventually rejected for its lack of prestige, perhaps
should not be dismissed so easily.
Guru Tashi is thought to be a descendant of the kings of Minyak, a
name which, in the course of history, has come to refer to a number of
different areas and tribes of eastern and north-eastern Tibet. According
to Risley (Gazetteer of Sikkim 1894: 7) Guru Tashi, the Minyak prince,
was from the principality of Kham Minyak Andong, on the eastern
border of Tibet “situated to the West of Ta-tsien-loo, between Litang
and Dirghe [Derge].” This Minyak can no longer be located in that
region although another Minyak, also referred to as Chagla, can now
be found further east across the Yalong River, just west of Tatshienlu.
Although Guru Tashi most probably did come from Kham Minyak,
there are indications that his ancestors may have come from an area
known as Tibetan Minyak or Si-Hia. These different Minyak are dis-
cussed by Stein in his article Mi-Nag and Si-Hia (1951). The ancient
Si-Hia kingdom (1032–1226) was a Tangut state located to the north-
east of Lake Kokonor in what later became the Tibetan province of
Amdo. According to Stein (1951: 225), the throne of China was lost
to the profit of Minyak after the Five Dynasties (tenth century) but the
kingdom was eventually destroyed by Genghis Khan where he died in
1227. The kingdom was populated by a number of Tibeto-Burman,
Turco-Mongol and even Indo-European tribes. Stein points out that the
existence of a Minyak (Si-Hia) in the north and many others further
south in Kham is probably due to population movements and migra-
tions following the destruction of Si-Hia in 1227.
The reproduction of names and population movements caused by
the Mongols could have contributed to obscure the Si-Hia origin of the
future Chogyals of Sikkim. Although this is entirely hypothetical, it is
 perspectives on the past 67

possible that a branch of the Minyak family migrated to Kham Minyak

after the destruction of Tibetan Minyak in 1226 before setting off again
for Sakya and eventually Sikkim in the 1260s. Their origin may have
become further confused with some of the Khampa clans who would
have followed them from Kham Minyak in their search for the hidden
land of Demojong. Stein has indeed demonstrated that the genealogies
given in Tibetan texts under the name of Mi-Nag correspond to the
Si-Hia kings (1951: 236) and that these genealogies not only pre-date
the Si-Hia Kingdom, they also continue after its destruction for an
additional eight generations. These descendants of Se-Hu, the first Si-
Hia King, are said to have migrated to Tsang in central Tibet and to
have settled in a place called Namring where they became the nobles
of Byan. Interestingly, as Stein points out, Namring is not far from
Sikkim where the kings also claim descent from a Minyak king (1951:
237). The History of Sikkim mentions that Se-Hu’s descendants are the
Darsang family who live in northern Tsang and married with the Sakya
family (Namgyal 1908: 14). Clarifying the relation between these three
families, Byan, Darsang, and the Namgyals of Sikkim, all descendants
of a Minyak king who subsequently migrated to Tsang and in the case
of the Darsangs and the Namgyals’ ancestors, both marrying with the
Sakyas, would help clarify the origins of the Sikkimese Chogyals.43
Why the Minyak king suddenly left his kingdom in Kham for Lhasa,
Sakya and eventually Sikkim is another question that has remained
unanswered. Looking at Mongol historical involvements in the area, one
hypothesis, which would of course need to be looked into by historians,
can be put forward. The great Sakya Panchen (1182–1251) accompa-
nied by his nephew Phagpa (1235–80) travelled to north-eastern Tibet
to meet Godan, the grand-son of Genghis Khan at Kokonor in 1247.
The Sakya Panchen gave Godan religious initiations and in 1249, the
latter gave him an order conferring the rulership of the Tibetan prov-
inces of Ü and Tsang to the Sakyapas (Stein 1972: 78). Soon after the
Sakya Panchen’s visit, it is mentioned in the History of Sikkim that the
last king of Kham Minyak’s three sons left the kingdom on a pilgrimage
in search of the hidden land of Demojong. Their migration is recorded
as a divine prediction (Namgyal 1908: 17):

43
For a discussion about the term Se and its relation to Minyak and the numerous
Himalayan groups claiming an origin in Minyak, see Ramble 1997.
68 chapter two

During the time of his successor, that same deity (Gur-drag) uttered a
prophetic injunction directing the descendant of the Mi-nyak dynasty
to go to the hidden lands lying in the south of Tibet called Dema-jong
(Sikkim). Accordingly the next in the descent to the 25th King of Kham
Mi-nyak started forth with his sons. It is said that the existing race of
Sikkim who call themselves Tondu-ru-zi . . . and Beb-tsan-gyed are said to have
been derived from these. It is further related that the Mi-nyak chief came
to Lhasa where the image of Lord Sakya Muni uttered some words. Next
he came to Sakya, the residence of his own Guru. From an authentic
old record it is said that there were three brothers as chiefs of Kham
Minyak, of whom the middle one [Guru Tashi] was prophetised to go
towards Sikkim where his descendants would rule. This divine direction
was contained in a letter dropped from the heavens. Impelled by this
divine command, he started forth from the kingdom with his sons and
passed through Sakya to pay his respects to the Hierarch there.
Kubalai, who was made Emperor in 1260, sent Phagpa to central
Tibet in 1264 in order to reorganise its administration. Interestingly,
it seems that the descendants of the king of Kham Minyak arrived in
Sakya, the home of their guru who had by now become the ruler of
Tibet, around the same time. Guru Tashi, the Minyak Prince, could
have been further encouraged to follow Phagpa by the fact that Kubalai
had taken the administration of Kham and Amdo back from Phagpa
when he sent expeditions to pacified the tribes of the southern Sino-
Tibetan marches in Kham from 1264 to 1268 (Smith 1996: 91–92).
This could indeed be the reason why Guru Tashi left his kingdom in
search of Demojong.
When Guru Tashi, the middle of the three brothers with his five sons
arrived in Sakya, the monastery was being built. Guru Tashi’s eldest
son helped in its construction and erected the four central columns of
what must have been the Lhakhang Chenmo of Sakya South, founded
in 1268 by Phagpa. The eldest son, for having erected the pillars was
given the name Gye Bumsa (Gyad ’bum gsags), or equalling 100,000
men in strength. He married a lady of the Sakya Hierarch’s family and
soon after left in the direction of Sikkim. Some believe that Gye Bumsa
and his four brothers had been deputed by Phagpa to guard the valleys
of Chumbi, Demojong and Ha on Tibet’s unprotected southern border;
a likely possibility considering that Pagpa was the new ruler of Tibet.
On the way, they built a monastery for four hundred monks at Pashi,
north of Khampajong, and left one of the brothers in charge. Once in
Phari, they built the Samdub Lhakhang monastery where their father
Guru Tashi died. Gye Bumsa eventually settled lower down in Chumbi
 perspectives on the past 69

and his three remaining brothers are said to have gone towards the
valleys of Ha and Paro in present-day Bhutan (Namgyal 1908: 15–16).
Guru Tashi’s family gained political authority in the Chumbi Valley,
authority which eventually came to include Sikkim where his descendant
Phuntsog Namgyal was crowned Sikkim’s first Chogyal in 1642.

3.2. Gye Bumsa and the chief clans of Sikkim

It is said that Gye Bumsa first came to Sikkim with his wife in search
of the Lepcha patriarch and bongthing Thekongtek. The couple was
childless and requested the Lepcha bongthing to perform a ritual where
Kangchendzönga and all the territorial deities of Sikkim were invoked
so that they might be blessed with a male descendant. Upon their return
to Chumbi, the couple had three sons who later became the ancestors
of a number of Lhopo patrilineal descent groups, including that of the
Sikkimese royal family. For this reason, it is said that Kangchendzönga
came to be regarded by the Lhopos as a pho lha, or male ancestral god
who may bless the lineages with male descendants. Later, when Gye
Bumsa and his wife returned to Sikkim to express their gratitude and
perform a thanksgiving ritual for their sons, a blood brotherhood was
sworn between the Tibetan Gye Bumsa and the Lepcha Thekongtek
where the territorial deities of Sikkim were invoked to witness their
alliance. And this is how Kangchendzönga later came to be worshipped
and invoked as a witness god during the national ritual of Pang Lhabsol
held at the Palace chapel at Gangtok, when dignitaries and representa-
tives swore a solemn oath in the presence of the protective deities of
Sikkim, to serve the country.44

44
The History of Sikkim (Namgyal 1908: 18) relates the initial thirteenth century ritual
of blood brotherhood between Lhopos and Lepchas which is considered to have been
the first Pang Lhabsol: “An eternal friendship was made between Gyad-hBumg-Sags and
The-kong-Tek. They agreed by this that all the males should be considered to be related
to the sons and all the females to the daughters. The friendship was cemented by a
ceremony at which several animals, both domestic and wild, were sacrificed and all the
local deities invoked to bear witness to this solemn contract of friendship, binding the
Lepchas and Bhoteas in an inseparable bond. They sat together on the raw hides of
the animals, entwined the entrails around their persons, and put their feet together in
a vessel filled with blood, thus swearing the blood troth to each other. Thekong invok-
ing all the Sikkim local spirits, asked them to stand witness to this solemn contract,
invoking blessing on those who observed these faithfully, and curses on those who broke
this eternal hereditary and national contract between the two races. . . . Thereforth the
Lepchas gradually came under the influence of the strangers.”
70 chapter two

Tradition relates that Gye Bumsa’s three sons were named Kyabo-
rab (sKya bo rab), Langmorab (gLang rmo rab) and Mitponrab (Mi
dpon rab). The youngest son Mitponrab, who displayed the aptitude
of a leader and succeeded his father, in turn had four sons by the
name of Shangpodar (Zhang po dar), Tsechudar (Tshas chu dar),
Nyima Gyepo (Nyi ma rgyal po) and Guru Tashi (Gu ru bkra shis).45
These four grandsons of Gye Bumsa are the apical ancestors of the
four chief clans of West Sikkim who together form a superior descent
group referred to as the Tongduruji (sTong ’du rus bzhi) or ‘the four
clans of a thousand each’ (Namgyal 1908: 19). The Chogyals of Sik-
kim are descendants of the fourth son and belong to Guru Tashi’s
descent group. A slightly inferior group of eight clans is referred to as
the Bebtsengye (’Bebs mtshan brgyad)46 or ‘the eight tribes [names] of
settlers’ (Namgyal 1908 Sect 2: 10). Additionally, two satellite clans, the
Yulthenpa (Yul thon pa) and the Lingzepa (Gling mdzes pa) are said to
be the descendants of Gye Bumsa’s first and second sons, Kyaborab
and Langmorab respectively.47
Of all the clans, the origins and apical ancestors of the group of
eight are the least clear. Some ascribe their origin to Gye Bumsa’s three
brothers—Seshing, Teantong and Kartsog—who first went east towards
Ha and Paro before settling in Sikkim (Namgyal 1908: 16), others to
Gye Bumsa’s two older sons (Namgyal 1908 Sect 2: 10) while still others
believed them to be the descendants of Gye Bumsa’s followers:48

This ritual of blood brotherhood between the Lhopos and the Lepchas is considered
to have been the first Pang Lhabsol. Lamas, who dislike animal sacrifice, usually prefer
mentioning that the first Pang Lhabsol had been performed by Lhatsun Namkha Jigme
when he performed a thanksgiving ritual for his safe journey across the Himalayas as
related by Nebesky-Wojkowitz (1993: 402). The annual worship of Kangchendzönga
was of course celebrated by the Lepchas long before the arrival of the Lhopos.
45
The first son, for having been born at his maternal uncle’s place in Sakya, was
called Shangpodar: he who would enhance the fortune of his maternal uncle. The
second son was born on the 10th of the 7th month, a day of ritual in honour of Guru
Rinpoche. This son was called Tsechudar, meaning glorious or lucky 10th day. The
third son was born on a Sunday so he was called Nyima Gyepo meaning the sun or
solar king. The fourth son was born on the day when a consecration ceremony was
being performed on the occasion of the completion of an image of Guru Rinpoche.
So he was called Guru Tashi (Namgyal 1908: 19).
46
Some of these eight clans have a number of exogamous sub-clans.
47
Although they are technically fourteen if one includes the Lingzepa and
Yultempa—the descendants of Gye Bumsa’s first and second sons—this group of
original clans are usually referred to as the twelve clans.
48
I was unable to personally attend the Bebtsengye’s rituals in honour of their pho
lha mo lha or ancestral gods which would have helped clarify the identities of their
apical ancestors, and instead, had to rely on second-hand information.
 perspectives on the past 71

[t]he Bhutias [Lhopos], according to one authority, are said to have

descended from the followers which are said to have consisted of eight
tribes (hence called Beb-tsan-gyed) of the great ancestor of the Maharaja
of Sikkim—Gye-Bum-Sar (Namgyal 1908 Sect 2: 10).
Lacking any better evidence, I am inclined to favour the latter view
since it is unlikely that Gye Bumsa’s father Guru Tashi would have
engendered thousands of descendants, enough to populate a whole
kingdom, especially when taking in consideration the low birth rate of
the Lhopos.49 One should also remember that the Mongols had sent
expeditions to Kham in order to pacify the tribes of the Sino-Tibetan
marches from 1264 to 1268 (Smith 1996: 91–92). The Mongol expedi-
tions must have created population movements and it is thus unlikely
that the ruling family of Kham Minyak would have left in isolation.50
As their names indicate—‘the eight tribes of settlers’—even in these
early days, these clans must have represented a significant number
of people. The fact that Minyakpa clans can also be found further
west among both the Sherpas (Oppitz 1974: 125) and the Nawa on
the Nepal side of Kangchendzönga (Diemberger 1997: 264) suggests
that migration out of Minyak must have taken place at different times
involved different groups of people.
Individually, the twelve clans and their sub-clans51 are strictly exoga-
mous but still form a preferential endogamous unit as a group, with
the four superior Tongduruji forming a preferential sub-group within
the twelve. If possible, they will all avoid alliances with other Sikkimese
Lhopos whom they consider to be later migrants. These so-called later
settlers gradually arrived from Chumbi, Ha and Paro and settled in
Sikkim at different times around or shortly after the founding of the
kingdom and were considered to be inferior in status by the original
twelve, a distinction which the former deny and that the latter still try
to maintain today. Indeed, Lhopos who do not belong to the twelve

49
Fraternal polyandry was common prior to the twentieth century.
50
The Sherpas seem to have a similar origin: “[a]ccording to written accounts and
oral information their original homeland was a region in the eastern Tibetan province
of Kham named Salmo Gang. . . . One of the reasons for this migration can be guessed
from a statement in one of the documents, according to which the emigration took
place at a time of politico-religious tension between the Kham people and their power-
ful neighbours to the north, the Mongols.” Interestingly, among the first four Sherpa
clans to have immigrated to Solu-Khumbu between 1530 and 1600 is one clan called
Minyakpa (Oppitz 1974: 122–25).
51
The names of these twelve clans and their satellite and sub-clans are given in
the Gazetteer of Sikkim (1894: 28–30) along with the names of the Lhopo families who,
according to Risley, are thought to have migrated to Sikkim at a later date.
72 chapter two

families believe all Lhopos to be equal with the exception of the Nam-
gyals and the kajis. The History of Sikkim mentions that
[h]aving brought all the Lepchas and the Bhuteas under his direct power,
he [Phuntsog Namgyal, the first Chogyal] selected 12 kajis from amongst
the 12 chief Bhutea clans then existing [these first kajis acted as ministers]
and likewise he selected 12 Lepcha jogpens [district administrators] from
amongst the superior families of Lepchas in Sikkim (1908: 26).
This original aristocracy created in the seventeenth century went through
a series of changes, intermarriages and additions, the latest during the
time of the British protectorate, evolving into the present-day kajis of
whom many are of mixed Lhopo, Lepcha and even Tibetan descent.
Today, the great majority of the descendants of the twelve Lhopo clans
amongst whom the first kaji ministers had probably been appointed, are
farmers. They are still settled in numerous villages of West and South
Sikkim. I have not come across any of them in North Sikkim—with the
exception perhaps of some Bonpo sub-clans of the Bebtsengye—where
the Lhopos, including Tingchim villagers, are thought to have migrated
to the central valleys of Sikkim at a later date by the twelve families.
These settlers came from the valleys of Chumbi and Ha, then located
on the periphery of the new kingdom in West Sikkim.
These two forms of aristocracy, an older one based on the status of
the clans who first settled in the area and who were first assigned high
ranking administrative positions by the Chogyal, and the second corre-
sponding to the households of the landed nobility that emerged in later
years, reflects the changes Sikkim has been through in recent centuries.
The importance of the lineage in terms of defining status is a common
feature of the remote agricultural communities of the Himalayas such
as Solu-Khumbu, Tarap and north-western Nepal where the highest
status is equally reserved to members of the lineages who first arrived
in the area and the lowest to recent arrivals (Samuel 1996: 128–29).
While the descent group was of greater importance in defining status in
the early days, the kajis eventually emerged as Sikkim’s landed nobility
when Sikkim gradually developed into a centralised state divided into
a number of estates administered by kaji landlords. The landlord class
was further strengthened when the British appointed new landlords and
re-enforced the feudal conditions in the state.
The most significant factor, wherever in Tibet they might have origi-
nally come from before settling in these southern valleys and whether
they came to the central valleys of Sikkim proper before or shortly
 perspectives on the past 73

after the founding of the kingdom, all Lhopos, whether from the
twelve clans of West Sikkim or belonging to other families originally
from Ha and Chumbi, all share a similar form of ancestral worship
that distinguishes them from the migrants of Tibetan origin who came
to Sikkim from Tibet and Nepal only a few generations ago. Every
single Lhopo descent group either from Ha, Chumbi or Sikkim wor-
ships—or did so until recently—the same mountain deity known as
Masang Khungdü (Ma sangs khyung ’dus/bdud) whose abode stands
close to the point where the borders of Bhutan, Chumbi and Sikkim
meet. Surprisingly, the worship of Masang in the private homes of the
Lhopos is often more important than the worship of Kangchendzönga,
Sikkim’s national mountain deity located along Sikkim’s western border
with Nepal. The only people of Tibetan origin settled in Sikkim who
do not share this form of ritual for ancestors and lineage protectors
( pho lha mo lha) are those who recently migrated to Sikkim, directly
from other regions of Tibet or Nepal. These recent immigrants are
not considered to be Lhopos and are usually referred to as Tibetans
or Sherpas, or by the name of their place of origin such as Wallung
on the Nepal-Tibet border.
This shared form of worship along with the fact that all Lhopos
from Ha, Chumbi and Sikkim speak a similar Lhoke (lho skad) southern
Tibetan dialect are indications that these three neighbouring valleys,
now belonging to three different countries—Chumbi to China, Ha
to Bhutan, and Sikkim to India—were perhaps once populated by a
somewhat homogenised Lhopo population, linked by trade routes, shar-
ing the same dialect and united around the worship of Masang and
other lineage protectors until they were divided by more recent political
developments. Supporting this hypothesis is the fact that the Chumbi
Valley was once an integral part of Sikkim52 and that Ha belonged to
Sikkim until it was retained by Bhutan following the early eighteenth
century Bhutanese occupation of Sikkim.
Some Lhopos, who do not belong to the twelve clans of West Sik-
kim, in an effort to assert their true Sikkimeseness and simultaneously
reject their later migrant status imposed by the twelve families, go as
far as suggesting that they might have already been settled in these

52
Following the Chinese take-over of Tibet in 1959, refugees from Chumbi who
sought asylum in Sikkim were not received as Tibetan but were welcomed back by
the Chogyal as Sikkimese.
74 chapter two

southern valleys long before the arrival of Gye Bumsa and his follow-
ers from Kham Minyak in the thirteenth century and the subsequent
creation of the kingdom of Sikkim by Gye Bumsa’s descendants. This
argument reverses the situation by transforming the twelve clans into
the foreigners from Kham Minyak and some of the apparently later
migrants into the original inhabitants of these southern valleys. Con-
sidering the cultural affinities between these three valleys and that Ha
and Chumbi appear to have been populated by people of Tibetan
origin long before Sikkim,53 their claims may not be entirely baseless.
Short of any surviving historical records, whether the twelve clans and
the so-called later migrants from Ha and Chumbi were all originally
from Kham Minyak or whether some were always settled in or came
to these southern valleys from other regions of Tibet, before or after
the Minyak immigrants, are questions that will probably never receive
adequate answers. I have nevertheless sought to highlight the existence
of ancestral worship as a common cultural trait that has survived the
fragmentation of a perhaps greater Lhopo population in southern Tibet,
which was never strongly politically united.

3.3. Origins and migration history of Tingchim’s descent groups

Chie Nakane, who conducted research in Sikkim in 1955, has men-
tioned that Lhopo clans or lineages have little sociological importance
beyond their exogamous function and that Lhopo villages are simply
clusters of small fragments of various clans with no localised clans or
lineages, which is a reflection of their historical settlement as immi-
grants (1966: 236). Patrilineal descent groups in Tingchim indeed
have no economic or political role beyond their exogamous function
but they have nevertheless retained some ritual importance. Further,
Nakane later mentions that Lhopos do not regard clan members as
descendants from a common ancestor and that many Lhopo clan
names are derived from the name of a place where a recent ancestor
used to live (1966: 237). I found this last statement to be accurate as

53
M. Aris mentions (1979: 40) that the black and white temples built in the Ha
Valley date perhaps to the time of Songtsen Gampo (seventh century) and the famous
Kichu temple of Paro, from the eighth century. By comparison, the first known Bud-
dhist temple built in Sikkim was founded by the Tibetan Rigzin Godem (1337–1409)
towards the end of his life. It was built at Pawo Humri, a hill top between Yuksum
and Silnon in West Sikkim but only the ruins and the foundation of the lhakhang can
still be seen today.
 perspectives on the past 75

far as recent Tibetan migrants are concerned but not for the Sikkimese
Lhopos. Recent migrants have usually come from regions beyond the
neighbouring valleys of Ha and Chumbi, do not have a tradition of
ancestor worship and are not considered to be Lhopos or real Sikkimese
by the latter. All Lhopo descent groups recognise the existence of some
historical or legendary common ancestor, and aspects of each descent
group’s historical past, including its apical ancestor, is inscribed in the
torma ( gtor ma—conical dough offerings) dedicated and regularly offered
to their pho lha mo lha.
All Lhopo descent groups, whether belonging to the original twelve
families or to the so-called later settlers, may technically be qualified as
clans or rü (rus) since all are unilineal descent groups claiming a com-
mon ancestry without being able to precisely trace their ancestors step
by step. Such clans may comprise dozens or in some cases hundreds
of households scattered throughout villages, usually within a certain
area of the state. However, I have chosen to qualify Tingchim’s descent
groups as lineages or gyü (brgyud) because, unlike the twelve clans and
many others like them in Sikkim, Tingchim villagers have little interest,
awareness or contact with clan members beyond their immediate lineal
descent group within the village’s borders. Many clans elsewhere in Sik-
kim, whether belonging to the twelve families or not, hold clan rituals
on a rotational basis where members from a number of villages gather.
More important to Tingchim villagers is the concept of patrilineal
descent within the village and to be able to trace relations either with
ancestors or among current lineage members. Although the majority
can no longer name their ancestors beyond three or four generations,
a Tingchim ritual specialist who died a few years ago could precisely
name fifteen generations of males descending from his apical ancestor.
The possibility of establishing sub-lineages as new exogamous units with
its own sub-lineage founder is also indicative of the importance of the
lineage in Tingchim over that of the clan and its associated ideology
as found among the twelve clans of West Sikkim.
The great majority, or forty-one of Tingchim’s forty-nine houses,54
migrated to Sikkim from the neighbouring valleys of Ha and Chumbi
at different times since the seventeenth century. These forty-nine houses
are organised in ten exogamous patrilineages that can be divided in

54
We will see in chapter 6 that although Tingchim has 54 corporate households,
there are only 49 houses.
76 chapter two

three general groups according to their place of origin, time of migra-

tion to Sikkim and identity of their pho lha mo lha (see table below).
(1) The first and largest group of three exogamous patrilineages and
two sub-lineages—thirty-four houses—collectively referred to as the
Dojö Tsaosum (rDo bzhod rtsa’o gsum), share an apical ancestor by the
name of Jowo Gyamnag and came from Ha some fifteen generations
ago. (2) The second group of three exogamous patrilineages—seven
houses—share an ancestral god by the name of Pashi Pho lha or Pashi
Rinpoche and came directly from the Chumbi Valley, settling in Sikkim
some time prior to the 1770 Bhutanese invasion of Sikkim. (3) The
third group of two ‘lineages’—eight houses—have no lineage organisa-
tion or ancestral gods of their own. They came relatively recently from
Wallung (Eastern Nepal) and Derge (Kham) settling in Sikkim some
three to four generations ago, and those from Wallung, as we will later
see, have adopted the lineage organisation and ancestral gods of their
host. Despite the existence of two apical ancestors each shared by a
number of lineages, each patrilineage forms an exogamous unit of its
own as they each recognise a later ancestor as lineage and sometimes
sub-lineage founder.
Like all other common ancestors, Jowo Gyamnag, the apical ances-
tor from Ha, is revered as a pho lha but is the only one in Tingchim
whose miraculous survival and founding of lineages by his sons is still
recounted in legends.55 He was originally from the Tsenkar monastery
of Ha Kechung, and migrated to Sikkim with his family where each
of his alleged sixteen sons are said to have founded a new lineage of
which only five are known and represented in Tingchim today. Ajo
Bongthing, the previous bongthing who died in 1985, was the last to be
able to recite the names of Jowo Gyamnag’s descendants. He could
name fifteen generations which, if accurate, would date Jowo Gyamnag’s
migration to Sikkim around 1640, which coincides with his descendants’

55
When Jowo Gyamnag was born both his mother and father expired. Villagers
concluded that the baby had some negative influence and so abandoned him in a cave
in the forest. But the baby survived and villagers kept on hearing him crying every day.
When they went to see what was happening, they saw the baby was fat and suckling
from a breast that had appeared from the stone. They brought him back to the village
and his lineage was given the name Dojöpo (rDo bzhod pa), or ‘the people of the stone
breast’. He was called Jowo Gyamnag which means ‘green cheek’ because his only
wealth was a turquoise stone that he kept in his mouth that eventually made his cheek
turn green. It is interesting to note that ‘a turquoise-coloured boy’ has been associated
with Masang Khyungdü in the Valley of Ha (Pema Tshewang 2001: 53).
 perspectives on the past 77

claim that he migrated to Sikkim prior to the founding of the kingdom.

This suggests that some of the so-called ‘later migrants’ (Risley 1894:
29) were possibly already settled in North and East Sikkim at the time
of the founding of the Kingdom in West Sikkim. Jowo Gyamnag had
been the Tsenkar Lama’s principal supporter when the latter lost a
dispute with another local lama in Ha after which Tsenkar Lama and
Jowo Gyamnag both left for Sikkim.56 They first settled in Lingdok
and Pengyong in East Sikkim before some of the descendants of Jowo
Gyamnag eventually settled in Tingchim. The five lineages descend-
ing from Jowo Gyamnag represented in Tingchim today are: (1) Dojö
Takichumo (rDo bzhod stag gi shus mo), (2) Dojöpo (rDo’u bzhod pa),
(3) Gyamtso Chumo (rGyam mtsho’i shus mo), (4) Angon Lhachungpa
(Ang dgon lha chung pa), and possibly the (5) Kalong (bKa’ blon).57

56
A Sikkimese Tsenkar (bTsan mkhar) monastery was built in Gangtok in 1716 but
eventually demolished when space had to be made for a mosque in the state capital.
One of its statues was then placed in the lhakhang of Lingdok village. I was so far
unable to trace the original Tsenkar monastery in Ha as its name was most probably
changed following the Tsenkar lama’s departure for Sikkim.
57
While recounting their origins, Tingchim people say that Jowo Gyamnag had
decided that each of his sixteen sons was to establish his own patrilineage. In order to
find names for these new lineages, he instructed all his sons to leave on a journey and
recount what they had seen upon their return. Others say that he simply asked them
to recount him their dreams. In this way, the descendants of Jowo Gyamnag’s eldest
son are called Dojö Takichumo (rDo bzhod stag gi shus mo) or ‘the people of the stone
breast and of the tiger’s foot print’ as this son had come across a tiger’s footprint on
his journey. The Dojöpo lineage (rDo’u bzhod pa) or ‘people of the stone breast’ are
a sub-lineage descending from Jowo Gyamnag’s wife’s last son fathered by the Shenga
Kaji of Ilam—in today’s Nepal—some time after Jowo Gyamnag’s death. This last
son was first rejected by his half-brothers who wanted to sell him as a slave to Bhutan
but was eventually adopted by the first son, Dojö Takichumo. His descendants took
the name Dojöpo of Jowo Gyamnag’s lineage and cannot inter-marry with Dojö Taki-
chumo’s descendants whom they still address as ‘elder brother’. The Gyamtso Chumo
lineage (rGyam mtsho’i shus mo) or ‘people of the ocean’ are the descendants of Jowo
Gyamnag’s second son. This lineage later divided in three sub-lineages named after the
founding ancestor of each sub-lineage although only one is represented in Tingchim
today. The descendants of Jowo Gyamnag’s third son are called Angon Lhachungpa
(Ang dgon lha chung pa) or the people performing a small offering ritual for the pho
lha mo lha, and the Kalong lineage (bKa’ blon) ‘minister or high official’ are possibly
the descendants of a fourth one. The Kalong came from Phari in the Chumbi Valley
where their ancestor, Jowo Kalong, who migrated to Sikkim only seven generations ago,
was a high ranking administrator. Although Jowo Kalong is considered the founder of
their lineage, they also recognise Jowo Gyamnag as their apical ancestor. Curiously,
the Kalong also worship Pashi Pho lha, the ancestral god shared by the second group
who migrated directly from Chumbi and who is often regarded as an ‘apical ancestor’.
It is not clear which of the two they are actually descended from—if indeed they are
descended from any of them—and which one they adopted when coming under his
political influence.
78 chapter two

Among the second group, the ancestor of the Töpa (sTod pa) line-
age—two houses—Kalö Naksong, migrated to Sikkim from upper
Ha near Chumbi. He probably came to the area some time prior to
the Bhutanese invasion of 1770 as he is remembered as one of the
heros who defeated the Bhutanese at Mophi La in North Sikkim. The
Jamyongpa (’Jam dbyangs pa) lineage—two houses—came to Sikkim
from Chumbi some four generations ago. The Gazetteer of Sikkim (1894:
29) states that the Jamyongpa are actually a sub-lineage of the Töpa,
and an 84 year old bongthing from the neighbouring village of Namok
confirmed that the Töpa and the Jamyongpa lineages both came from
the same village near Chumbi. Further, it is most likely that the Töpa
and the Jamyongpa are somehow related as they share, in addition to
Pashi Pho lha, the same ancestral gods from Chumbi. Pashi Pho lha
is actually the ancestral god of the descendants of Gye Bumsa,58 the
Chogyal’s ancestor from Kham Minyak, and it is interesting to note
that the Jamyongpa of Tingchim claim to have first come from Sakya
prior to having settled in Chumbi just as Gye Bumsa had done. Until
their extinction earlier this century, the Bonpo (Bon pa) lineage was
also represented in Tingchim.59
All the above lineages from Ha and Chumbi were referred to col-
lectively as the Bon tö tsao sum (Bon stod rtsa’o gsum). ‘Bon’ standing
for the Bonpo lineage, ‘Tö’ for the Töpa and Jamyongpa, and ‘Tsao’,
for the Dojö Tsaosum (Dojö Takichumo, Gyamtso Chumo and Angon
Lhachungpa) and their sub-lineages. Included among the above second
group (Töpa and Jamyongpa), are the Ripünpa (Ri spun pa—‘mountain
brother’) lineages—three houses—who also migrated from Chumbi
although it is not known when and where they came from. Once in
Tingchim, they changed their own pho lha mo lha for the Dojöpo’s who
gave them land.
Among the third group, the following two ‘lineages’ are not regarded
as total outsiders nor as pure Lhopos. Even though they are now fully
integrated in Tingchim and have widely inter-married with all the
other lineages, they are still considered fundamentally Tibetan as they

58
The Gazetteer of Sikkim (p. 8) mentions that Gye Bumsa’s descendants worship Pashi
which corresponds to the location where their first temple was built in Tibet north of
Khampajong. Although Pashi Pho lha is often regarded as an ‘apical’ ancestor, he was
most probably the local deity of Pashi.
59
The other extinct lineages of Tingchim are the Assampo, the Mangtsangpo and
the Pia-uko.
 perspectives on the past 79

only recently migrated to Sikkim from regions beyond the southern

valleys of Ha and Chumbi. The Pöpa (Bod pa)—four houses—came
from the nearby trading post of Wallung in eastern Nepal some three
generations ago. The Pöpa had no lineage name or ancestral gods
of their own before settling in Tingchim and theirs is an interesting
case of assimilation. Having no ancestral gods, they adopted those
of the Gyamtso Chumo who welcomed them by giving them land in
Tingchim. Ancestral gods are essential in legitimising alliances and
until recently, no marriage could take place without announcing the
bride’s and the groom’s respective ancestors and lineage protectors.
Adoption of a proper Lhopo ancestry was the equivalent of adopting
the Lhopo identity and gaining membership within the community. The
Pöpa now follow the same exogamous rules and worship of ancestral
gods as the others.
In the same category, the Ripa (Ri pa)—four houses—migrated from
a place called Runga Chamchen in Derge (Kham) four generations ago
but only recently settled in Tingchim.60 The name Ripa, which means
‘people from the mountain’, was simply given to them by the people
of Tingchim as they had no lineage name or ancestral gods. Contrary
to the Pöpa, they have not adopted any and are the only households
in Tingchim who do not worship the pho lha mo lha. The Ripa are
considered to be a higher lineage of hereditary lamas and thus are
thought not to require the protection of ancestral gods since all four
recent ancestors were knowledgeable and accomplished lamas. Tsam
Khang Ajo, the present lineage head, although belonging to Tingchim’s
only Nyingma family, is the most senior lama in the village, although
his position is honourary as the rest of the households are Kagyud. His
father, Ajo Lam, was a powerful gomchen living in retreat in the forest
above Tingchim. The villagers persuaded him to settle amongst them
as it is considered very beneficial to have such a realised man within
the community.

60
Their grandfather had come from Derge with Lama Changzod in order to look
after the Nyingma Labrang monastery located just above the Kagyud Phodong monas-
tery, and which had been established in 1844 by Lobsang Rinzin Chophel also known
as the Kuju Kyabgon, the eldest son of Chogyal Chophoe Namgyal (1785–1863). Kuju
Kyabgon and the two lamas had travelled back from Tibet together.
 80 chapter two

List of Tingchim’s patrilineages:

Group 1: Dojö Tsaosum (rDo bzhod rtsa’o gsum)—thirty-four houses.
Origin: Tsenkar (bTsan dkar) monastery of Ha Kechung, Bhutan.
Apical ancestor: Jowo Gyamnag.
Time of migration: over 15 generations ago or around 1640.
Lineage (a) Dojö Takichumo (rDo bzhod stag gi shus mo) or ‘the people of the stone
breast and of the tiger’s foot print’.
Lineage founder: Jowo Gyamnag’s first son.
Sub-lineage of lineage (a): Dojöpo (rDo’u bzhod po) or ‘people of the stone breast’.
Lineage (b) Gyamtso Chumo (rGyam mtsho’i shus mo) or ‘people of the ocean’.
Lineage founder: Jowo Gyamnag’s second son. Now extinct in Tingchim.
Sub-lineage of lineage (b): Gyamtso Chumo Tshering Lhundrum—name of the sub-
lineage founder.
Lineage (c) Angon Lhachungpa (Ang dgon lha chung pa) or ‘the people performing a
small offering ritual for the pho lha mo lha’.
Lineage founder: Jowo Gyamnag’s third son.
Associate lineage (d) Kalong (bKa’ blon) ‘minister or high official’.
Origin: Phari, Chumbi Valley.
Lineage founder: Jowo Kalong.
Time of migration: seven generations ago.
Apical ancestor: Jowo Gyamnag and ancestral god Pashi Pho lha.
Group 2: Origin: Chumbi Valley—seven houses.
Lineage (a) Töpa (sTod pa)
Approximate time of migration from Chumbi: eighteenth century.
Ancestral god: Pashi Pho lha.
Lineage (b) Jamyongpa (’Jam dbyangs pa)
Time of migration from Chumbi: four generations ago.
Ancestral god: Pashi Pho lha.
Lineage (c) Ripünpa (Ri spun pa).
Time of migration from Chumbi: unknown.
Apical ancestor: unknown.
They have adopted the ancestral gods of the Dojöpo who gave them land in Tingchim.
Group 3: Origin: Tibet—eight houses.
Lineage (a) Pöpa (Bod pa).
Origin: Wallung in eastern Nepal.
Time of migration: three generations ago.
They have adopted the ancestral gods of the Gyamtso Chumo who gave them land in
Tingchim.
Lineage (b) Ripa (Ri pa).
Origin: Runga Chamchen in Derge (Kham).
Time of migration: four generations ago.
Lineage of hereditary lamas with no ancestral gods.
 perspectives on the past 81

4. Definition of the person in terms of household,

lineage, village, region and social class

A Lhopo villager first belongs to a corporate household that gives him

an inherent right to live in the village and to cultivate the land of his
forefathers. He also belongs to a patrilineage from which he inherits a
network of kinship ties that distinguish relatives from potential affines.
While patrilineage is more important than the household in terms of
both kinship and defining status among villagers, the household’s name
has become more important than the patrilineage in terms of status
among the kajis and the affluent urban Lhopos. Such households were
usually named after the locality the kajis ruled. Within the village,
patrilineage and personal names are rarely used and kin and non-kin
villagers alike are always addressed or referred to by some real or
fictitious kinship term preceded by the name of the area where their
house is located within the village. Like everywhere else in Sikkim, it is
considered rude to address or even refer to anyone other than children
by their personal names.
Second, a person’s existence is defined in terms of his ties to the
village. Whenever someone travels within Sikkim, he or she will always
introduce himself or be referred to as being from Tingchim. But no
one will unnecessarily venture beyond the village, its fields and adjacent
forest, and if they do so, will always prefer to return to the village in
the evening so as to sleep and eat in their own house as water and food
from outside may not agree with them and is considered potentially
dangerous.61 Women and children may walk alone within the village but
must always be accompanied beyond its boundary. Villagers very rarely
travel beyond the markets of Mangan and Dikchu to sell their crops
and Gangtok for shopping as well as for visiting doctors and Rinpoches.
In the winter, the more wealthy may travel on pilgrimages to important
monasteries for exceptional Buddhist teachings and initiations, sacred
sites and medicinal hot springs in other parts of Sikkim for up to two
or three weeks. The great majority of Tingchim villagers have never
seen the plains of India and the large Indian town of Siliguri only four
hours away by bus. It is difficult for a villager to conceive of an existence

61
Lhopos are constantly afraid of being poisoned by restaurant owners and it is
thus very important for anyone travelling to know which are the ‘safe’ restaurants at
his destination. Many will not take any risks and will refrain from eating until returning
home in the evening (for questions of poisoning accusations see chapter 7).
82 chapter two

beyond the safety of the village. A man may sever relations with his
brothers as a result of inheritance disagreements or with another lineage
member because of disputes over a woman but will never voluntarily
sever relations with his village, and his right to live there. The very
few who have moved to town to follow employment opportunities are
considered unlucky because they have to live in crowded, dirty and
unsafe environments away from their relatives and neighbours who can
provide help, safety, advice, justice and emotional support, and away
from their fields, springs and animals that can provide proper nurture
and good health. Food products obtained from the town’s market are
always considered inferior in quality and very expensive compared to
what can be obtained at home.
Thirdly, a person is defined in terms of his area of origin within
Sikkim, which in some cases may also indicate religious affiliation and
area of prior origin in Tibet or Bhutan. Each Lhopo region within Sik-
kim is like a cluster of villages centred around one or more important
monasteries that will also indicate whether the villages of the area are
predominantly Nyingma or Kagyud. There are variations of dialect,
dress and custom among most of the six general areas which are: (1)
western Sikkim: Pemayantse, Tashiding, Yuksum, (2) southern Sikkim:
Ralang, Kyoshing, Barfung, Lingdam, (3) northern Sikkim: Phodong-
Phensang, (4) extreme northern Sikkim: Lachen-Lachung, (5) eastern
Sikkim: Gangtok and surrounding villages such as Pabyuk and Rumtek,
and (6) south-eastern Sikkim: Pakyong, Rhenock, Pathing.
In addition to the above regional differences, there are distinctive
social classes within the Lhopo community as a whole—a small aristoc-
racy, a commoner majority and very few landless servants—but these
have very little significance in Tingchim where everyone is a commoner.
On the other hand, in Gangtok proper, distinctions based on social
class, occupation or even political affiliation among the Lhopos seem
to have always been more important than regional origin, at least for
those who have been settled in town for some time and have lost touch
with their villages of origin. The single most important social distinction
in Gangtok is between, on the one hand, the commoners and on the
other, members of the royal family and the influential kaji families who
have maintained their residences below the Palace along Kaji Road in
addition to their houses on their country estates. As the monarchy gave
way to democracy, the influence of the kajis was gradually replaced
by that of politicians who, like the kajis, took up residence in Gangtok
following their election in their rural constituencies. There were very
 perspectives on the past 83

few landless servants and labourers of Lhopo origin and these were
generally found either in the houses of the aristocracy or were attached
to the estates of the large monasteries, particularly Pemayangtse, where
they were expected to cook and bring water and wood for the lamas as
well as cultivate the monastery’s fields in exchange for a percentage of
the harvest. These social classes have no relevance in Tingchim as there
are neither kajis nor landless servants in the village where all Lhopos
are commoners who value equality among themselves, although some
households are clearly better off or have more distinguished ancestries
than others. More important to Tingchim villagers, who are rarely
confronted with members of the other social classes within their own
ethnic group, is their belonging to the Lhopo community in rela-
tion to other neighbouring ethnic groups of Nepalese origin. Among
these are landless labourers and servants who carry out activities such
as blacksmithing, butchering and tailoring generally thought of as
polluting.

In this chapter, we have seen how Tingchim village belonged to a

monastic estate and thus remained relatively protected from the changes
introduced on the lessee estates by the first British Political Officer at the
end of the nineteenth century. Somewhat protected from heavy taxes,
forced labour and Nepalese migration, Tingchim did not entertain
close relations with the Phodong monastery, the centre of administra-
tion which they only visited once a year. Having migrated from Ha
and Chumbi around or shortly after the establishment of the kingdom,
Tingchim villagers were not amongst the twelve clans of West Sikkim
from which the first ministers had been appointed and thus never
entertained close relations with the centres of political and religious
power. The shamans and the nagshang were the only ritual specialists
until the lamas gradually took over in three distinctive phases under
the influence of the Lachen Gomchen from 1910, the Sakya Lama in
the late 1920s and the 16th Karmapa in the early 1960s. While the
Gomchen tried to eliminate possession rituals, the Sakya Lama intro-
duced the performance of community Buddhist rituals and the 16th
Karmapa addressed the question of animal sacrifice. Along with the
16th Karmapa, refugee Tibetan Rinpoches and knowledgeable lamas
helped create Buddhist educational institutions and opportunities,
which were to have a deep impact on the practice and understanding
of Buddhism in Sikkim. Around the same time, Tingchim villagers
abandoned slash and burn cultivation and with the help of newly
84 chapter two

arrived Nepalese tenant farmers, expanded their cardamom fields into

the forest. With this new income, villagers were now able to invest in
more prestigious forms of religion, sponsor elaborate private and com-
munity Buddhist rituals and travel to Gangtok to visit the Tibetan high
lamas and Rinpoches.
Despite this gradual Buddhacisation of the village, a number of
factors have contributed to the persistence of the shamanic worldview
and villagers’ dependence on the bon ritual specialists. To start with,
the village form of Buddhism practised in Tingchim is in many ways
similar to what the shamans aim to achieve for their clients in terms of
health, wealth and protection. Over the centuries, due to the absence
of large celibate monasteries or centre for Buddhist studies within Sik-
kim, the level of scholarship among village lamas remained generally
low as few had the time or money to travel to Tibet for the purpose
of education. Then, with the end of the Buddhist monarchy in 1975,
large community Buddhist rituals lost their popularity which indirectly
strengthened the domestic rituals of village religion. Although Buddhist
educational opportunities were created by the arrival of knowledgeable
Tibetan lamas and Rinpoches in Sikkim in the 1960s, these did not
have an immediate impact on the practice of village religion as the
lama-graduates seldom returned to their village of origin and instead,
sought employment as government servants or in Tibetan Buddhist
centres abroad. Thus, this gradual and rather late Buddhacisation of
the village inevitably contributed to the persistence of the shamanic
worldview and the villagers’ dependence on bon ritual specialists in
matter of healing. We will see in the following chapters that the vil-
lagers’ view of the supernatural is one of the most important factors
that contributed not only to the survival of shamanic rituals but to the
amiable co-existence of bon and Buddhism at the village level.
 CHAPTER THREE

THE HIDDEN LAND AND ITS

SUPERNATURAL POPULATION

One day, Lopen Dugyal mentioned that there are many more spirits
and deities inhabiting the environment in Sikkim than there are human
beings. Indeed, nearly every mountain, hilltop, prominent rock, moun-
tain pass, crevasse, valley, old tree, lake, river and stream seems to be
the abode of some supernatural being.1 The mountain god inhabiting
the peak of Mount Kangchendzönga is considered to be their chief
and his worship is an important aspect of ritual everywhere among
Sikkimese Buddhists. The world of Tingchim villagers is configured by
these supernatural beings who inhabit the house, the local territory, the
high mountains and the ne ( gnas) or powerful sacred sites of Sikkim.
Villagers entertain intimate relations with these beings who play a role
in all aspects of daily life, from agriculture to hunting and gathering,
from illness to good health and prosperity, and from marriage to house
building, childbirth and death. Samuel has mentioned that
[t]he importance given to local deities seems to vary between com-
munities and between individuals, though some of this may reflect the
differing degrees of interest in these matters among Western observers
(1993: 190).
Dedicating an entire chapter to them, hopefully, isn’t simply a reflec-
tion of my interest in village religion but a reflection of the central
importance attributed to these entities as they greatly contribute to
shaping Tingchim villagers’ worldview as well as the physical and social
environments in which they live. In order to consider the villagers’
relationship with these supernatural entities in later chapters and the
ways in which ritual specialists will thrive to take control of them, one
must first look into the concept of Sikkim as a beyul or sacred hidden
land and identify the different classes of supernatural beings who reside
within its territory.

1
Ramble has pointed out that sacred countries are usually densely populated with
supernatural beings (1996: 142).
86 chapter three

Although the tantric deities of Tibetan Buddhism are by far the most
respected deities in Tingchim, they are confined to villagers’ individual
Buddhist practice, the Phodong monastery and the village’s prayer hall
where the lamas and the nyungne am (smyung gnas a ma—the village’s group
of praying women), hold their calendrical Buddhist rituals. These tan-
tric deities and their rituals are shared by the Tibetan Buddhist world
at large and their relevance in everyday village life remains somewhat
theoretical. In the same way, the sacred pilgrimage places of Tibet, India
and Nepal are all highly desirable places to visit but are nevertheless
located on the outer limits of their conceptual world.

1. Taming of the country and its inhabitants:

Sikkim as a BEYUL

Sikkim was, and in many ways is still regarded by its Buddhist inhabit-
ants as a sacred hidden land or beyul. The following words of Terton2
Dorje Lingpa (1346–1405) and Terton Ratna Lingpa (1403–1478),
quoted from the History of Sikkim, summarise how most Lhopos still
think of their country’s potential. Terton Dorje Lingpa described Sik-
kim as
a veritable paradise on earth, created by a miraculous supernatural power
into a vast and magnificent palace where everything calculated to produce
beauty and grandeur have [sic] been provided on the grandest imaginable
scale (Namgyal 1908: 9).
The History of Sikkim also tells us that the land was initially blessed by
Chenresig and Indra, followed in the eighth century by Guru Rinpoche
who “exorcised the land of all evil spirits, and rid it of all obstacles that
would tend to obstruct or disturb the course of devotional practices”
(Namgyal 1908: 10). Prophetical books were compiled and hidden by
him in rocks so as to be rediscovered in later times. Treasures were
hidden in one hundred and eight secret mines and stores to render this
land productive, healthy and harmonious as well as to facilitate the
spread of the Dharma. Terton Ratna Lingpa qualifies Sikkim as:

2
For the Nyingmapa, ter ( gter or gter ma) are spiritual treasures, sometimes objects
such as images but usually texts attributed to Guru Rinpoche who hid them so as
to be later physically discovered or revealed in other ways by Buddhist practitioners
called terton ( gter ston).
 the hidden land and its supernatural population 87

the best of all the sacred places of pilgrimage as it will come to be resorted
to in the end of the evil times . . . everyone assembled to bless this sacred
land: they took possession of it, blessed it and sowed all kinds of seeds
in it. Then they hid treasures, appointed keepers and uttered hundred
prayers. . . . Every cliff, peak, cave and hilltop has been consecrated for
devotional purposes. Persons who practise devotion in any of these blessed
places are sure to attain siddhi powers and the highest knowledge and
perfection temporally and spiritually (Namgyal 1908: 10–11).
The History of Sikkim adds that of all beyul, Sikkim is said to be the most
sacred and sanctified, the king of all sacred places equaling paradise
itself. Sikkim is described as the land of medicinal herbs and curative
waters3 as well as a golden trough where anything one wishes to sow
will grow. It is mentioned that people who come here will not suffer
incurable diseases and will not feel hunger as there are 105 different
kinds of fruit and 360 types of edible plants. It is added that in Sik-
kim, wisdom, love, kindness and compassion grow spontaneously within
oneself.
One cannot help but think that such descriptions of Sikkim as a trea-
sure house could have been written as an encouragement for Tibetan
people to come and settle, perhaps in order to populate these empty
hills on the unprotected borders of Tibet. There are many accounts
regarding the existence of similar beyul across the Himalayas and Tibet,
and Samuel (1993: 517) has pointed out that in the Nyingma tradition,
beyul had been
set aside by Guru Rinpoche as a refuge to be discovered at an appropriate
time in a rather similar way to the discovery of the terma texts. . . . Some
of these beyül were quiet refuges set aside for meditation but others, like
Sikkim and Pemaköd, were places where lay people could settle to escape
political turmoil.
Indeed, many Tibetans are thought to have taken refuge and migrated
to Sikkim as a result of Tibet’s seventeenth century religious wars.
As in Tibet, Guru Rinpoche is said to have tamed all the supernatural
beings of the land, including the mountain god Kangchendzönga, dur-
ing his eighth century visit to Sikkim and to have bound them through
solemn oaths into being protectors of the faith and to refrain from
causing harm to sentient beings. By this act, and by having hidden ter

3
There is a number of curative hot springs (tsha chu) in Sikkim all recommended
for bone and skin disorders although each is said to have additional specific healing
properties.
88 chapter three

or spiritual treasures to be discovered in later times, Guru Rinpoche

is seen as having brought Buddhism and a civilised way of life. But
depending on the context and the person’s point of view, the taming
of these ambiguous supernatural beings can be read as a metaphor
for the taming of the mind, of society, of the environment or even of
the country (Ortner 1978: 99, Samuel 1993: 220). Indeed, Karmay
has mentioned that
[t]he subjugation of the spiritual inhabitants of the country is an extremely
important part of the process in the Buddhist conversion of the people
who believed in their existence. It was mainly for the need to create a
sacred environment in accordance with Buddhist ideals of the universe
(1998 [1996]: 446).4
Although converted to Buddhism by Guru Rinpoche in the eighth
century, it is only from the fourteenth that Kangchendzönga’s identity
as a defender of the faith and keeper of treasures was promoted by
Terton Rigzin Godem (1337–1409). Rigzin Godem is thought to have
been the first Tibetan high lama to visit Sikkim where he is said to have
meditated and discovered powerful sacred sites and spiritual treasures,
including a prophetical text about the hidden land of Sikkim.5 He is
said to have made his discoveries known in Tibet by attaching letters to
the necks of vultures (Namgyal 1908: 11). He built Sikkim’s first known
fourteenth century lhakhang at Pawo Humri, a hilltop between Yuksum
and Silnon in West Sikkim of which only the ruins can still be seen
today. Although he was the first Tibetan lama known to have come to
Sikkim, his visit did not result in the establishment of a political entity
and his teachings (Byang gter thugs sgrub) are only followed by a minority
of monasteries, particularly Tashiding and Silnon in West Sikkim. Thus,
it is generally accepted that Lhatsun Chenpo Namkha Jigme is instead
regarded as the chief propagator of Buddhism to Sikkim. He opened
the hidden land, created a sacred environment according to Buddhist
ideals of the universe, partly by redefining Lepcha sacred sites as Bud-
dhist (Namgyal 1908: 27–28), established a Buddhist political entity6

4
On the subject, and how it may have been applied in Sikkim, see Steinmann
1998.
5
The treasure text ’Bras ljongs lung bstan gsal ba’i me long (The Prophetic Mirror of
Sikkim) discovered by Terton Rigzin Godem is concerned with Guru Rinpoche’s
predictions about the establishment of Sikkim.
6
On the disputed role of Lhatsun Chenpo and of the two other Patron Saints of
Sikkim at the time of the coronation of the first Chogyal, see Mullard (2005b).
 the hidden land and its supernatural population 89

and converted the indigenous population. Although Kangchendzönga

was made a Buddhist mountain god by Guru Rinpoche in the eighth
century and was revealed as such by Rigzin Godem in the fourteenth,
it is only in the seventeenth, following the establishment of the Buddhist
kingdom and the consecration of the first Chogyal, that Kangchen-
dzönga became the object of veneration and pilgrimage in a Buddhist
sense within Sikkim. His previous identity as a secular mountain god
will be discussed later in this chapter.
It is thought that when Kangchendzönga was originally subdued by
Guru Rinpoche and appointed keeper of the land and its treasures,
he was not to let anyone enter and discover Sikkim’s sacred sites and
spiritual treasures unless this person was the right one to further the
intentions of Guru Rinpoche. When Lhatsun Chenpo arrived from
Tibet, it is said that Kangchendzönga first tested him before appear-
ing to him in the form of a white goose and giving him permission to
open the gate to the beyul. In his welcoming discourse, the mountain
god, usually simply referred to as Dzönga, revealed the various places
of sacred nature, and old people believe this to have been where the
Nesol ritual text was composed (Namgyal 1908: 21). The Nesol is a cel-
ebration of Sikkim as a hidden land or beyul and an offering ritual to
Kangchendzönga and all the deities of the land.
Lhatsun Chenpo discovered many sacred texts but is especially
remembered for his teaching and empowerment of a particular trea-
sure text (Rig ’dzin srog sgrub) associated with Sikkim. According to this
text (f. 51b),7 Dzönga may be invoked as either of the following three
aspects that are said to have been ascribed to him by Guru Rinpoche:
(1) as the one who faithfully carries out the orders of Guru Rinpoche
and who has promised to protect the words of the Buddha (bka’ srung);
(2) as the owner of the sacred locations, the local territory and the
spiritual treasures as well as the five treasures (mdzod lnga, see below)
hidden within his peaks ( gnas yul gter gyi bdag); and (3) as an emanation
of the king of the north or God of Wealth (rGyal chen rnam thos
sras), red in colour, wearing a suit of armour, riding a snow lion and

7
The main offering rituals to Dzönga are given in the Rig ’dzin srog sgrub as well
as in the gNas gsol. However, descriptions of Dzönga are available from much earlier
sources and were reproduced in later texts. According to Khenpo Lha Tshering of
Tashiding, Principal of the Sikkim Institute of Higher Nyingma Studies at Gangtok,
the best descriptions of Dzönga are given in the Bla ma dgongs ’dus lung bstan bka’ brgya
ma, a text ascribed to Guru Rinpoche and revealed in the fourteenth century by Terton
Sangay Lingpa (1340–1396).
90 chapter three

carrying precious stones, a spear, a turban-shaped hat and a banner of

victory over his head symbolising eternal victory over the evil forces.8
The God of Wealth is his highest manifestation and in this capacity,
Dzönga is considered a supra-worldly deity of the Buddhist pantheon
( ye shes lha) as opposed to a deity of the impermanent world (’jig rten
gyi lha). According to the same Rig ’dzin text (f. 52), Dzönga has three
manifestations: outer, inner and secret. As his outer manifestation, he
is half-lha half-tsen (lha, btsan)9 and has the capacity of conquer them
all ( phyi ltar lha btsan). As his inner manifestation, he is a great monk
who has taken layman’s vows and resembles a disciple of Sakyamuni
Buddha with a bowl and a walking stick (nang ltar sprul pa’i dge bsnyen).
As his secret manifestation, Dzönga is the king of the Yakshas ( gsang
ba gnod sbyin rgyal po rnam thos sras) by the name of God of Wealth
(rNam thos sras).
Another important text, the Guide Book to Sacred Places of the
Hidden Land of Rice (sBas yul ’bras mo ljongs kyi gnas yig) is a more
recent compilation based on some three earlier texts10 prepared by
Jigme Pawo (1682–?), the third incarnation of Lhatsun Chenpo and a
contemporary lama of Chagdor Namgyal, the third Chogyal of Sik-
kim. These texts give descriptions of Demojong the area directly to
the south and surrounding Mount Kangchendzönga in West Sikkim,
which has the highest concentration of powerful sacred sites and hid-
den treasures within Sikkim. Demojong is described as a paradise on
earth with an abundance of fruit, vegetables and self-growing crops,
and clues are given in the text on how to reach Beyul Demoshong (sBas

8
According to Dr Rigzing Ngodup Dokhampa, to mention the significance of only
a few of Dzönga’s attributes and costume, the banner of victory fluttering over his head
diadem and the spear signify eternal victory over the evil forces, the gems symbolise
that which brings all one wishes for, and his red colour symbolises loving attachment
of sentient beings with sublime feeling of compassion (Pang Lhabsol, souvenir 1989,
Sikkim Tribal Youth Association pp. 8–9).
9
A lha belongs to a class of white deities well-disposed towards human beings. A
tsen belongs to a category of male red spirit living in the rocks.
10
According to Khenpo Lha Tshering, the sBas yul ’bras mo ljongs kyi gnas yig has been
compiled from the following main sources: (1) Terton Rigzin Godem’s fourteenth century
prophetical text: ’Bras ljongs lung bstan gsal ba’i me long; (2) a text discovered by Terton
Sangay Lingpa in the fourteenth century: Bla ma dgongs ’dus lung bstan bka’ brgya ma;
and (3) a later guide book discovered by a lama by the name of Terton Dorje Dechen
Lingpa of mDo mang dgon monastery in Kham, who had been the first incarnation of
present Yangthang Rinpoche of West Sikkim.
 the hidden land and its supernatural population 91

yul ’bras mo gshongs),11 the elusive hidden land, the entry of which is
located somewhere within the area of West Sikkim called Demojong.
It is said that in the upper part of Demojong lives the mountain god
Kangchendzönga, who like a king sitting on a throne, is the owner and
protector of the land, its people, its powerful sacred sites and spiritual
treasures. Kangchendzönga’s five peaks are the repository of five trea-
sures: the first contains salt, the second gold and turquoise, the third
Dharma scriptures and other precious objects capable of increasing
one’s wealth, the fourth contains arms and the fifth medicine and dif-
ferent types of seeds. It is believed that all these treasures will be made
available to the Sikkimese people in times of need. The spiritual centre
of Demojong is Tashiding (Brag dkar bkra shis sdings) where Guru
Rinpoche is said to have given many teachings. In the four cardinal
directions of Tashiding are four miraculous caves where one can attain
extraordinary powers. In the east is ‘the hidden cave of the east’ (Shar
phyogs sbas phug); in the south is ‘the womb of the celestial female
deity’ (mKha’ ’gro gsang phug); in the west is ‘the cave of great hap-
piness’ (O rgyan bde chen phug); and in the north is ‘the cave of god’s
precious heart’ (Lha ri rin chen snying phug). Nearby, the plateau of
Yuksum where the first Chogyal was crowned just below Kangchen-
dzönga, is considered to be a natural altar in front of the sacred moun-
tains, caves, lakes and rivers where ritual offerings can be made. All
of these locations are today pilgrimage destinations for all Sikkimese
Buddhists.

2. Living in a sacred hidden land

Living in a sacred land greatly influences the way villagers relate

to their surroundings. At the village level, people are dependent on
natural resources that are owned, guarded or inhabited by a horde of
supernatural beings who must be taken into consideration in all their
hunting, gathering, fishing, agricultural and building activities. Only the

11
‘gShongs’ as in ’Bras mo gshongs means valley of rolling hills, while ‘ljongs’ as in
’Bras mo ljongs means land or country. While Demojong is the heart of historical
Sikkim, located around and below Mount Kangchendzönga in West Sikkim, Demo-
shong remains a true hidden land. Some people are said to have caught glimpses of
it through an opening in the rock while travelling through the mountains although the
entry could never be found again.
92 chapter three

higher deities of the land such as Dzönga are considered protectors,

while many lower supernatural beings are potentially dangerous and
cannot be ignored. The best examples illustrating this relation with the
sacred environment relate to the lake, which is the village’s main source
of irrigation for the paddy fields and drinking water for the houses
located in the lower part of the village. It is regarded as a sacred site
( gnas) and for this reason, the lake and its surrounding area have to
be safeguarded from pollution and destruction. The lake is thought
to have lost some of its sanctity when the road between Gangtok and
Mangan was built in 1958, and rocks were blasted with dynamite in
order to make way for it. At that moment, all villagers are said to have
witnessed, in broad daylight, a double male-female conch (dung dkar pho
mo) fly out of the lake in the direction of Mount Kangchendzönga. The
lake nevertheless retained its life force, believed to have the shape of
a small red ox with long hair similar to a yak. This life force is called
tso long (mtsho glang—‘lake-ox’)12 and is believed still to live in the waters
of the lake. It was believed that the ox might have flown away as well
but to everyone’s relief, Chumbi Ajo, a much respected elderly villager
from neighbouring Namok, is said to have seen it again. If the red ox is
made to leave because of disturbances, pollution or further destruction,
the lake will soon dry up and Tingchim will lose its rice crop.
The lake’s sanctity and the village’s feeling towards it were well illus-
trated in an incident that took place a few years ago when, in the middle
of the night and without any warning, a team of moth collectors from
Darjeeling arrived at the lake with tents and generators. Not knowing
what was happening, the youths of the village descended upon the lake
with sticks. When they heard the purpose of the expedition, villagers
were so furious that they escorted the lepidopterists to the nearest army
check-post to have their permits verified and told them never to come
back again. They felt that the moths that would be found flying around
the lake at night would most certainly be emanations of supernatural
beings and if any were captured, the consequences for the villagers as
well as for the collectors could be disastrous.

12
It is interesting to note the existence of ‘the lake of the ox’ in the Ha Valley (Pema
Tshewang 2001) from where many Tingchim villagers’ ancestors are thought to have
emigrated in the seventeenth century.
 the hidden land and its supernatural population 93

A section of the Nesol ritual text (f. 60–61), the offering ritual to the
deities of the land, includes an apology for any wrongdoing done to
the environment which reads as follows:
All our actions that are contradictory to the body, speech and mind
of gods, such as burning meat in the hearth, cutting down trees that
are the abode of deities, polluting lakes and destroying hills, rocks and
cliffs—please forgive us for doing such things out of ignorance.
Thus, “cutting down trees that are the abode of deities, polluting
lakes and destroying hills, rocks and cliffs” are considered particularly
sinful among Sikkimese Buddhists and the need to refrain from these
actions is still relevant, not only to the villagers but to many urban
Lhopos as well. If people respect the numerous sacred sites of Sikkim
and refrain from these polluting and destructive actions, it is believed
that the higher deities and protectors of the land will not withdraw the
blessings and protection that ensure the peace and prosperity of the
land. On the other hand, if people do not refrain from these actions,
it is believed that the wrath of the deities could in turn result in epi-
demics, famines, internal fighting and natural calamities. This respect
for a sacred environment is the primary reason why many Lhopos
and Lepchas throughout the state do not support the construction of
large hydro-electric power stations in remote and sacred locations, or
the opening of missile ranges by the Indian Army in the high valleys
of North Sikkim.

3. The PHO LHA MO LHA: ancestors and lineage protectors

Before starting fieldwork research in Tingchim, I had the chance of

recording a khelen, an oral invocation recited at a wedding. During this
ceremony, the pho lha mo lha of both the bride and the groom were
individually invoked and made offerings in order to introduce the new
couple and obtain the pho lha mo lha’s blessings. Numerous variations of
these khelen invocations are known by heart by the ritual specialists and
recited not only at weddings but also at various ritual occasions. The
khelen and its structure are the base of all bon rituals and are performed
in honour of the country’s protecting deities as well as for the ancestral
gods and supernatural beings of the local territory. They are recited
by the bongthing, the pawo, the nejum, the lamas and even by respected
elders not only in village houses but also at the village’s prayer hall, the
94 chapter three

monastery and, until recently, at the Palace chapel. At the village level,
the wedding khelen for the pho lha mo lha is said to be the most complete
and poetic. This particular khelen was chanted by the most famous pawo
of West Sikkim, the late Chongpung Ajo Pawo, on the occasion of his
youngest daughter’s wedding in 1993. A few days later, I started listen-
ing to the recording for the first time with a Sikkimese friend, who, to
my surprise, asked me to stop the tape immediately. Listening to the
recording would be the equivalent of performing the ritual all over
again, of invoking the pho lha mo lha and of risking offence as no ritual
offerings would be presented. Their displeasure could have negative
consequences for household members. This was my first introduction
to the dangers associated with the lineage protectors.
During the whole period of fieldwork, the names of particularly
feared pho lha and dangerous territorial supernatural beings could only
be revealed in writing, as the casual utterance of their names would be
sufficiently disrespectful to provoke some retribution. Some names should
only be pronounced by those who can perform the appropriate ritual
offerings. The people who share this knowledge are the pawo, the nejum,
the bongthing, some village lamas and, to a limited extent, some of the
elder and knowledgeable men of the village. Relating appropriately to
the pho lha mo lha secures the benefit of their powers, while neglecting to
perform their rituals punctually is one of the rare instances when the pho
lha mo lha will express their displeasure by withdrawing their protection.
This withdrawal may result in sickness or crop failure. The mainte-
nance of the social order they have engendered as lineage founders or
otherwise powerful ancestors or lineage protectors is thereby ensured.
Simultaneously, the bon religious specialists and the most distinguished
elderly villagers indirectly inherit this honour and respect since they
are likely to be the next in line to gain a place on the altar.
The powers for which the pho lha mo lha are propitiated are the ability
to provide sons and good harvests, to avert death in case of illness, to
predict obstacles and misfortunes, to create a platform for discussion and
arbitration in case of quarrels, to protect members from curses and, in
some cases, to send curses to defend or further the interests of lineage
members. These favours are indirectly sought through various rituals
during which the pho lha mo lha are first invited and introduced to the
audience, then spoiled with their favorite offerings. Later, they may be
thanked once these blessings have been conferred. The details of these
rituals and the attributes of the pho lha mo lha are rapidly disappearing
with the memory of the last bon ritual specialists. What I was able to
 the hidden land and its supernatural population 95

witness is only a fraction of what these rituals and their significance

might have been only a few decades ago.
The most common calendrical bon rituals are the biannual harvest
offerings, while others are held in extraordinary circumstances, either
at weddings or in order to propitiate the divinities in times of illness
or other crisis. But the pho lha mo lha are given their greatest honour
during the pawo’s initiation ritual and annual retreat, called tsamche
(mtshams bcad—‘meditation retreat’), when these gods interact with
their descendants through the medium of possession over a period of
four days (see chapter 11). During these séances, villagers receive advice
and predictions regarding the cause of illness, upcoming obstacles or
proper behaviour.
Each lineage, with the exception of the Ripa lamas who recently
came from Kham, has a series of ancestors and lineage protectors to
whom individual households present the biannual ritual offerings of
biatsi (’bya rtsi) after the summer harvest of rice, and of natsi (nag rtsi)
after the winter harvest of wheat. These regular ritual offerings for
the pho lha mo lha are called lhachö (lha mchod—‘offering to gods’) and
are normally, but not exclusively, performed by the pawo or the nejum.
During biatsi and natsi, the pho lha mo lha are offered the first fruit of
the harvest as a biannual recognition, honouring and thanking them
for their help and protection that ensures the prosperity and continuity
of the lineage. Similar rituals are held on other occasions pertaining
to different aspects of the lineage’s welfare, purity and longevity. For
example, the pho lha mo lha are offered the head and the hind leg of an
ox following the birth of a first son.
Some aspects of the lineage’s history are inscribed in the pho lha
mo lha, in their representation as torma on the altar and in the invoca-
tions and bon ritual texts chanted during rituals. The identification
of certain torma and history of some of the pho lha mo lha as well as
some passages of the bon texts are considered secret knowledge. Both,
Pawo Nadu and Atso, the Tingchim bongthing, complained that their
life would be shortened as a result of revealing this secret knowledge
to me. It should only be transmitted to someone who wishes to take
over from them when they are ready to die. Their reluctance restrained
my questioning and the material collected has unfortunately remained
incomplete. However, many aspects of the pho lha mo lha were pieced
together over time, through observation and spontaneous explanations
without Pawo Nadu or Bongthing Atso having had to reveal secret
knowledge to me directly.
96 chapter three

The pho lha mo lha can be divided into two general categories. The
first are indigenous non-Buddhist supernatural beings as well as bon and
Buddhist religious figures from the valleys of Yarlung, Chumbi, Ha and
Sikkim who act as lineage protectors. The second category comprises
male and female ancestors of the same patrilineage or, in some cases,
legendary characters who, for reasons usually difficult to trace, came
to be worshipped as ‘ancestors’.13 Both groups of pho lha mo lha, the
protectors and the ancestors, are listed below. All mo lha from either
category are considered to have been nejum. The protectors appear to
be an accumulation of supernatural beings and religious figures who
have been collected over the centuries and who may be a reflection
of the various religious influences to which their ancestors have been
exposed. Some protectors are clearly Buddhist while others have ele-
ments originating from the pre-Buddhist time of the Tibetan kings of
the Yarlung Dynasty (seventh to ninth centuries), possibly linking some
current religious beliefs and practices with the indigenous religion of
pre-Buddhist Tibet. Indeed, late Chongpung Ajo Pawo used to chant
‘our pho lha came from Yarlung’, which is an indication that their ances-
tors might have been pushed towards or established on the fringes of
Tibet since ancient times, where they escaped the full impact of Tibetan
Buddhist thought in later centuries. This possible relation with Yarlung
will be further explored in chapter 11 when discussing the pawo’s annual
retreat which is entirely dedicated to Shenrab’s daughter.
I list below the fifteen protectors shared by all the lineages originally
from Ha and Chumbi now settled in Tingchim that are represented by
rice torma on the altar of the pho lha mo lha. Although the first seven are
considered the main protectors and are more or less listed in order of
importance, the remaining eight have no specific order.

(1) Yeshe Gonpo (Ye shes mgon po or ‘Jig rten mgon po), also referred
to as Mahākāla, in this context is worshiped as a helpful territorial
god and a member of the pho lha mo lha. The pawo, nejum and bongthing

13
The worship of clan or lineage deities is common throughout the Himalayas. In the
case of the Tamangs, according to Steinmann (1987), the clan deities and the ancestors
are the object of two separate rituals, the lamas performing those for the Tibetanised
clan deities and the labon for the real ancestors. In contrast with Tingchim, the Tamangs’
ancestors are recorded in written form and their names chanted during the ritual while
in Tingchim, only distinguished ancestors are represented by torma and sometimes made
to interact with their descendants through the medium of possession.
 the hidden land and its supernatural population 97

regard him as the supreme deity of their particular pantheon and

as the chief of the pho lha mo lha. He is also Pawo Nadu’s tutelary
deity, which he shares with the previous pawo of his lineage. Yeshe
Gonpo is a provider of sons, long life and accumulated wealth, and
makes obstacles disappear. He is accompanied by his assistant,
(2) Dorje Legpa (rDo rje legs pa). The presence of Mahākāla and
Dorje Legpa among the pho lha mo lha may seem out of place as
they are better known as important chökyong (chos skyong), Dharma
projectors or defenders of the faith. However, this presence is mis-
leading as until recently, ‘Mahākāla’, in the context of the pho lha
mo lha, was known as a local protector from the valley of Ha. The
fact that this territorial god from Ha was given a Buddhist name
could be interpreted as evidence of his conversion to Buddhism, a
practice pointed out by Karmay (1998 [1996]: 446). Indeed, local
supernatural beings who are included on the altar of the pho lha mo
lha as lineage protectors are those who have been properly tamed
and will no longer unexpectedly turn against villagers, and thus
generally no longer require propitiatory animal sacrifices. However,
renaming the local god ‘Mahākāla’ is also a way for the pawo to
associate his practice with Buddhism and thus add prestige to his
pantheon and retain the confidence of villagers. The case of Dorje
Legpa is not so evident since, according to Nebesky-Wojkowitz,
he is “undoubtedly a deity of Central Asia origin” (1956: 155) by
whom “a number of Tibetan seers claim to become possessed in
their trances” (ibid.: 159).
(3) Guru Rinpoche (Padmasambhava), the great eighth century magi-
cian and tantric master from the country of Orgyen (Swat), is
represented on the altar with his consort. From the Buddhist view-
point, he is the supreme deity of the Nyingmapa and is particularly
revered for having subdued the territorial deities and enemies of
the faith during his eighth century visit to Tibet, thus paving the
way for the spread of Buddhism. He is included on the altar of
the pho lha mo lha for having eliminated animal sacrifice by taming
the supernatural beings of Sikkim and transforming marchö (dmar
mchod), the ‘red offering’ of blood, into karchö (dkar mchod), the ‘white
offering’ of rice.
(4) Yum Machen Düsum Sangay (Yum ma chen Dus gsum sangs rgyas),
the omniscient mother who knows all three times: past, present and
future. The name actually means ‘Great mother, buddhas of the
98 chapter three

three times’. She is also referred to as Naljorma Tsenden Loden

(rNal ’byor ma mtshan ldan glog sgron—‘Superior yogini, light-
ning-lamp’). She is the daughter of Shenrab, the founder of Bon.
While Guru Rinpoche is regarded as the father, she is worshiped
as the mother and head of all mo lha. She is originally from a lake
in upper Yarlung where she was the protector of the king. She is
the main deity of the pawo’s annual retreat where all the main torma
of the retreat’s altar are dedicated to her.
(5) Kangchendzönga (Gangs chen mdzod lnga, or simply mDzod lnga),
is the mountain deity of Sikkim. As pho lha, he is considered the
chief of all local supernatural beings of Sikkim, as well as the jibda
( gzhi bdag—‘owner of the land’) and dablha (dgra lha—‘warrior god’)
of the Sikkimese people.
(6) Masang Khyungdü (Ma sangs khyung ’dus/bdud, also known as
sGang ring btsan), is a mountain deity residing on the mountain
range separating the Bhutanese valley of Ha and the Tibetan valley
of Chumbi close to the Sikkimese border. He is the most important
lineage protector, the great pho lha and victorious leader and head
of all the tsen. For the men of the lineage he is the king of dablha
warrior gods and protects them when going to war. For the women
of the lineage, he is their shang lha (zhang lha), who follows them as a
protective pho lha from the house of their ashang (a zhang—mother’s
brother)14 to the house of their husband. It is said that he rules the
sun and the moon, which all worldly deities regard as the highest
supernatural beings. He is the mountain deity of the residents of Ha
and Chumbi and was brought with Tingchim villagers’ forefathers
and other Lhopos when they migrated to Sikkim.15
(7) Bon Tenpa Yab Yum (Bon bstan pa yab yum) is regarded as Shenrab,
the founder of Bon, and is represented here along with his wife.
He is said to reside in the paradise of the bon gods (Bon lha yul lha
shod). He has a secondary place to his daughter (4 above) on the
altar as she is recognised as the head of all mo lha; Tingchim’s bon
texts that represent the core of the bon ritual specialist’s knowledge
are entirely attributed and dedicated to her.

14
The maternal uncle or ashang has long term responsibilities towards his sisters’
children, particularly towards his nieces after marriage.
15
Regarding the worship of Masang Khyungdü in the valley of Ha in Bhutan, see
Pommaret 1996.
 the hidden land and its supernatural population 99

(8) Gyakar Ama (rGya gar a ma’i grub thob, also referred to as rGya’i
rig ’dzin rgyal mo), is a powerful nejum, originally from India, who
later came to Tibet. She provides cures for diseases typical of the
plains of India such as dysentery and speaks Hindi when address-
ing villagers through the medium of the pawo.
(9) Sangay Mo (Sangs rgyas mo mo’i dpon chung) is a divination
master from Tibet invoked by all divination specialists of Tingchim
in order to give them the power to make accurate readings.
(10) Bolha Gomchen Chenpo (sBo’o lha’i sgom chen chen po) is a
territorial deity living in a very large cave at Ne Dorje Phu (gNas
rdo rje’i phug), a sacred location between Ha and Chumbi not
far from the Sikkimese border. Bolha was once a dangerous can-
nibalistic supernatural being who was tamed and subdued by Guru
Rinpoche.
(11) Nadak Amo Chalam (gNas bdag a mo lcags lham) is Bolha’s wife
and the guardian deity of the cave of Ne Dorje Phu.
(12) Ajo Dongbong (A jo ’brang ’bong), also knows as Mempo Athing
or Puna Ajo (Phu nang a jo—‘the grandfather of the high land’)
is a Lepcha ancestor worshipped by Lhopos all over Sikkim. He
is a typical case of a troublesome spirit who was bribed into sub-
mission by being elevated into the ranks of the pho lha. He was a
very powerful Lepcha bongthing living in southern Sikkim with his
brother (A jo gyang agong po) and greatly troubled everyone by
sending large numbers of curses until both brothers were eventually
killed. Ajo Dongbong, who now resides on a mountain peak next
to Kangchendzönga, still causes trouble to villagers and needs to
be regularly appeased.
(13) Chusang Sangmo (Chu bzang gsang mo) is the spirit of a power-
ful nejum who resides on the Sikkimese border with Tibet. She is
responsible for the cure of epilepsy.
(14) Ha Lung Yang Lung Gyupa Tsen Sum (Ha lung yang lung rgyud
pa’i btsan gsum) are three tsen from Ha who moved from Ha Lung
to Yang Lung, where their ancestors used to live.
(15) Tsen Bara Pün Dün (bTsan ’bar ba spun bdun) and Rongjong
Dütsen Lusum (Rong ljongs bdud btsan klu gsum) are gatekeepers
of the village who live near a waterfall below Tingchim. When-
ever villagers travel beyond the borders of Sikkim, offerings will
be made to them for protection while travelling in foreign lands,
before leaving and after a safe return.
100 chapter three

Among the second category of pho lha mo lha listed below and corre-
sponding to the lineage’s male and female ancestors, only Jowo Gyam-
nag and Pashi Pho lha, the apical ancestors of Tingchim’s two descent
groups (see chapter 2), are represented on the altar by specific torma.
The majority of the other ancestors, including the lineage founders, are
only represented by three groups of unspecified torma, each representing
the previous pawo of the lineage and all the male and female ancestors
who have distinguished themselves. A fourth group of unspecified torma
represents the supernatural beings who developed a close relation with
a particular lineage through some kind of bargain contract through
which they were elevated into the ranks of pseudo-pho lha. As a security
measure, they also represent any ambiguous supernatural being who
may have been omitted: inadvertently ignoring a being who craves
the honour reserved for the pho lha mo lha may cause offence and incur
divine wrath.
Since these various groups of unspecified torma remain unnamed and
the direct revelation of certain identities is considered dangerous, I was
unable to fully document each lineage’s respective ancestors, or second
group of pho lha mo lha. Nevertheless, thanks to the pawo’s invitations
to attend his ritual performances, like all other villagers, I gradually
became familiar with the pho lha mo lha ancestors of the Gyamtso
Chumo, the lineage of the present pawo, through repeated attendance
at his possession rituals in honour of his own ancestral gods. They are
introduced here as a group for the purpose of reference.
The Gyamtso Chumo’s ancestors as well as the supernatural beings
who manifest during possession rituals in honour of the pho lha mo
lha—in addition to the first group of general lineage protectors already
mentioned—are:
Those ancestors represented by specific torma:

(1) Phaming Rigzin Gongmo represents Jowo Gyamnag, the apical

ancestor from Ha and his sixteen sons.
(2) Shari Gomchen is a great practitioner from the eastern Bithong
Lake in upper Ha.
(3) Shargi Jomi Khandro is a divine woman from the same lake in
upper Ha and is especially invoked for the production of sons.
(4) Paro Ajo is a dangerous one-legged monk and practitioner from
the Taktsang hermitage in the valley of Paro in Bhutan. Being
dangerous and still honoured probably means that he was not a
real ancestor but was engaged in a feud with this lineage, and was
 the hidden land and its supernatural population 101

honoured as a pho lha after his death in order to neutralise a curse

that was sent by him. His missing leg must be linked to the feud,
as Paro Ajo once mentioned through the medium of the pawo that
in the past, only the offering of a human leg would have appeased
his anger.
(5) Ajo Chodrimpo is a Sikkimese ancestor who had migrated to
Paro.

Ancestors and pawo not represented by specific torma but who make
regular appearances during the Gyamtso Chumo’s rituals:

(1) Tsering Lhundrum and his Tibetan wife Pomo Changla Chenmo
are the founders of this particular sub-lineage of the Gyamtso
Chumo.
(2) Manbar Pawo or Droko Pawo also known as Pawo Akyong is the
grandfather of Nadu, the present Tingchim pawo.
(3) Malag Ajo Pawo is the father of the present pawo.
(4) Malag Ajo Pawo’s teacher is a nejum from the neighbouring village
of Seyam.
(5) Ajo Bongthing is the father of Atso, the present Tingchim bongthing
and teacher of Nadu, the present pawo. He appears followed by
Nangdag Gyepo, the supernatural being who was sent to kill him
by his rival in Phodong.
(6) Tingjen Tsampo was a nagshang or powerful tantrist living above
present Tingchim.
(7) Mongshe Pawo, from the Dojöpo lineage, entered into a feud with
Tingjen Tsampo where both eventually ritually killed each other.
(8) Sumleg Pawo.

Although all the recent pawo and nejum in Tingchim have been from
the same Gyamtso Chumo lineage, this is not the only lineage to have
produced shamans for the village. In the nineteenth century, each
lineage had its own pawo or nejum who are still remembered and make
regular appearances during possession rituals.16

16
For example, those of the Angon lineage are Pawo Adra—the most important
Angon ancestor—Pawo Ko Phigu, Pawo Samdup Goka and Nabe Pawo.
102 chapter three

The ambiguous territorial beings not represented by specific torma

but who have developed a close relation with the Gyamtso Chumo and
make appearances during rituals for the pho lha mo lha are:

(1) Latsen Anden (La btsan a ldan), the tsen of the Anden mountain
pass is a female latsen (see below) who was Ajo Pawo’s protector.
(2) Latsen Bagchia (La btsan babs chags) is a male latsen and the pres-
ent nejum’s protector.
(3) Kabur Kangtsen (Ga bur gangs btsan), the tsen of the snows, locally
known as Chong Gyepo (Byang rgyal po) or the Northern King
is a feared and untamed mountain god considered responsible,
along with Latsen Bagchia for a large number of cases of illness
in Tingchim.

The Töpa and Jamyongpa lineages share more or less the same group
of fifteen protectors as the descendants of Jowo Gyamnag, but unfortu-
nately I have little information about their specific ancestors and protec-
tors. Pashi Pho lha is considered their apical ancestor while Jamyong
Lamo Dungu, the Jamyongpa’s lineage founder. Others appear to be
tsen and lu (klu—aquatic deities) who were made into lineage protectors.
No one except lineage members can attend their pho lha mo lha rituals as
it is said that the mere sight of certain torma may otherwise be fatal.
Some pho lha mo lha simultaneously reside in the body of the individual
although these are not specifically named. One pho lha is thought to
sit under the armpits and a pho lha warrior god or dablha, on the right
shoulder. These ancestors are said to reside in the bon paradises called
Rigdzin Ne (Rig ’dzin gnas) for men and Metok Padma Ling (Me tog
padma gling) for women, both located at Ne Dorje Phu, a sacred loca-
tion between Ha and Chumbi. These paradises are not located in the
vicinity of Kangchendzönga and are not to be confused with Beyul
Demoshong. The ruler of these paradises is Yeshe Gonpo, the head of
all ancestral gods. All pawo and nejum, along with other villagers who
have distinguished themselves through their kindness, wisdom, wealth
or power, are said to gain access to these paradises after death. It is
from these places that they later communicate with their descendants,
giving them general advice and predictions, through the medium of
the pawo and nejum during possession rituals.
 the hidden land and its supernatural population 103

4. The supernatural beings of the territory

The supernatural beings who inhabit or travel through the landscape

are of numerous types, and vary from benevolent and protective to
outright malevolent and destructive, although none is of entirely fixed
disposition. In certain cases, even the classes of beings they belong to
may not be indicative of their inclinations. For example, two tsen may
be of entirely different dispositions depending on their respective level
of submission to Buddhist principles.
The supernatural beings of the territory, unlike the pho lha mo lha,
are still considered partly wild or untamed and for this reason are con-
sidered ambiguous. While they may be propitiated for their beneficial
supernatural powers, they may also be easily provoked and bring illness
and misfortune to villagers; they may even be invoked to help poison
rivals or implement curses to take revenge. They are referred to by the
general term nöpa in Tingchim, ‘those inclined to cause obstructions,
damage or trouble’ and I will hereafter use this term to refer to these
ambiguous entities. We have seen in chapter 1 that although these local
nöpa are thought to have been tamed by Guru Rinpoche and thus should
no longer be causing harm to sentient beings, it is said that Tingchim
villagers’ forefathers have since corrupted them by offering them animal
sacrifices with the hope of saving the lives of dangerously ill relatives
or for taking advantage of their worldly powers. These offerings have
apparently rekindled their thirst for blood along with their malevolent
tendencies and, consequently, their powers may not always be used in
the interests of the villagers but also against them.
The different classes of beings to which Tingchim’s ambiguous nöpa
belong are numerous. Chief among them are the degye (sde brgyad—‘eight
classes of spirits’) and the ajo anyo, Lepcha and Limbu supernatural
beings who have been adopted by the Lhopos. The most common anyo
in Tingchim is the protector of the house, of its food stores, animals
and possessions. Like the other nöpa, the ajo anyo are still considered
somewhat untamed and their ambivalent nature makes them as much
protectors and providers as capricious beings who may be offended,
provoke illnesses and even require the animal sacrifice. The bongthing
may invoke his pho lha mo lha for protection while dealing with their
darker side.
The name and numbers of ajo and anyo varies from one household
to another but the most common ones in Tingchim and their attributes
are as follow:
104 chapter three

(1) Ajo Goka (A jo mgo dkar) also known as Tsong Goka (gTsong mgo
dkar) or Kame Ajo (Kha smad a jo) is the grandfather from the
lowlands. This ambivalent spirit from Nepal is actually a Limbu
ancestor recognised by Lhopos all over Sikkim and has no specific
relation with Tingchim villagers. His wife is Lenji Anyo also known
as Ilam Pende. Ajo Goka and Ajo Dongbong—who is recognised as
a pseudo-pho lha, see pho lha 12 above—will be honoured at harvest
rituals by the Lhopos throughout Sikkim and will both have pigs
dedicated and sacrificed in their honour before the animals reach
three years of age.
(2) Lenji Anyo is a Lepcha ancestor and the grandmother or guard-
ian of the cardamom plant (len brje’i ), the cash crop of the Lhopos
and Lepchas. She is given an offering ritual in the fields before the
harvest is taken away from her.
(3) Ship Anyo Pende and Gabar Pende are Lepcha grandmother spirits
who live in the attics of the houses in Tingchim from where they
protect the household. Each house has one or two of them and
both were originally sent to Tingchim by a Lepcha bongthing from
Dzongu in order to implement a curse. In one case, the maledic-
tion was cast over a century ago when a Lhopo from Tingchim had
failed to pay his debt for some cows he had bought from a Lepcha
bongthing in Dzongu. Originally sent to cause harm in the debtor’s
house, these anyo slowly spread from house to house and are now
settled in nearly everybody’s attic where they are made offerings of
grain and ornaments. These anyo are the protectors of the house,
of its food stores, animals and possessions.
(4) Tingbung Anyo Pende is the guardian of poison. The spirit who
took her life is called Gangs Lha Rum and is represented next
to her. She was also sent from Tingbung in Dzongu in order to
implement a curse in Tingchim and is worshipped as a precaution
against poisoning.

Although all ritual specialists in Tingchim will endeavour to take con-

trol of the supernatural beings of the land by invoking their respective
pantheon and ritual powers, the bongthing remains the one who best
knows their attributes, location, likes and dislikes. It is also he who will
prescribe the ultimate curing ritual of animal sacrifice and perform
the offering of precise parts of the animal. Usually recommended by the
bongthing and executed by a male assistant of the household where the
 the hidden land and its supernatural population 105

ritual is being held, the pawo may also, although on very rare occasions,
prescribe that an animal be killed as part of a ritual cure.
The ajo anyo’s state of semi-wildness is shared by a number of super-
natural beings who inhabit the territory. Among these are the degye or
eight classes of spirits, the definition of which is given in Samuel (1993:
162–63). The members on the list may vary although those thought
to be represented in Tingchim are: (1) lu (klu), aquatic deities, (2) tsen
(btsan), red male spirits living in the rocks, (3) dü (bdud ), malevolent
black spirits, (4) mamo (ma mo), ferocious female deities, (5) tsomen (mtsho
sman), female aquatic deities, (6) za (gza’), malevolent planetary deities,
(7) nöjin (gnod sbyin), guardian deities of the natural riches of the soil,
(8) lha, benevolent white deities. In addition to these eight classes of
beings are the sabda (sa bdag) or lords of the soil, the gyepo (rgyal po) or
king-spirits and the latsen, the tsen spirit of the mountain pass. The latsen
is one of the most important and versatile class of supernatural being
in Tingchim. There are male and female latsen who are thought to
roam the mountain passes above the village from which they get their
name. Known in western writings as the abominable snowman or yeti
and in Tibetan as migö (mi rgod), the latsen are usually heard or smelled
rather than seen. They are well-known for helping practitioners with
logistics during the isolation of their meditation retreats by presenting
firewood and meat at their doorstep,17 and may be the protectors of
women in the village. Although helpful, the latsen are also thought to
be at the root of many cases of illness in the village.18
With the exception of the lha who do not usually create problems for
human beings and the dü who are predominantly, but not exclusively,
malevolent, the ajo anyo, degye, sabda, gyepo and latsen are all thought to
have various degrees of both beneficial and malevolent tendencies.
Similarly, the rituals held in their honour may either serve to ensure
their blessings and protection, or may be held with the hope of tam-
ing or invoking their destructive tendencies. In this section, I did not
identify and locate the abode of specific nöpa who inhabit the village
block. The village and its surrounding area are inhabited by about

17
One latsen is said to reside on Mount Anden above 3,600 metres, three days walk
above the village. Another was spotted close by Namok some three years ago.
18
I agree with Siiger (1978), who discusses the existence of the yeti among the
Lepchas, that they should first be understood as supernatural beings who may at times
take on a physical appearance for locals.
106 chapter three

sixteen supernatural beings whom villagers know very well and have
to respect in all their activities. These will be identified as need be in
later chapters.

5. Kangchendzönga’s pre-Buddhist identities

The political dimension of mountain gods in terms of national identity

in Tibet has been discussed by Samten Karmay, and Dzönga is no
exception in this respect. Karmay distinguishes between two types of
mountain cults. The first is the secular and unwritten tradition of the
laymen whereby the mountain deity is the object of propitiation for
mundane pursuit by the local people. It is
a survival of the ancient traditions which the spread of Buddhism never
totally effaced. Indeed, it is deeply rooted and more marked among
Tibetan communities in the border areas, where the Bon religion is
often dominant and where encounters with people of different cultures
who display their own national aggressivity are a daily experience (1998
[1994]: 429).
Karmay adds:
[b]y the mountain cult I mean particularly the secular worship of the
mountain deity ( yul lha, gzhi bdag), who is usually depicted in the style of
a traditional warrior and is worshipped as an ancestor or an ancestral
deity for protection (1998 [1994]: 426).
The second type are the mountains that are the object of veneration and
pilgrimage in a Buddhist sense, not just by local people but from people
coming from other parts of the country because they are considered
to have been the dwelling places of early saints where treasures ( gter)
have been found or may still be hidden. Usually, mountain deities will
not be the object of both cults, but those that are seem to have been
recently included in the Buddhist pantheon (1998 [1996]: 432–33).
Both cults, or at least some of their aspects, exist among the Lhopos.
Aspects of Dzönga and other Sikkimese mountain gods that do not
originate from the monastic establishment are still prevalent in some
Lhopo village rituals although they are usually ignored in favour of his
Buddhist identities which, as we have seen, were promoted by Lhatsun
Chenpo following the establishment of the Buddhist kingdom in the
seventeenth century. While the bon ritual specialists in Tingchim will still
invoke Dzönga as a pho lha following the secular tradition of mountain
 the hidden land and its supernatural population 107

gods, the village lamas will invoke him as a high Buddhist deity. At least
until recently, this divergence of opinion was not a source of conflict
between bon and Buddhist ritual specialists within the village, but a
source of unity that found its highest expression in the performance
of the chirim annual ritual (see chapter 10), where bon and Buddhist
ritual specialists jointly officiated and invoked Dzönga for the welfare
of the community.
Although Dzönga, as a well subdued protector, is no longer thought
to inflict suffering on human beings, keeping good relations with him,
as much for the bon as for the Buddhist ritual specialists, is considered
important. As the head of all supernatural beings of the land, if properly
propitiated, Dzönga can help keep malevolent forces under control. For
example, he will be invoked by the sesungpa (ser bsrung pa—‘hail protec-
tor’), the weather-controlling lama of the village, to take control of the
lu responsible for the hail, which every spring, threatens the ripening
winter crop. Thus, all will perform regular rituals aimed at maintaining
good relations with the mountain god so that he may later be invoked
in time of need. But depending on the particular altar, Dzönga will
either be included among and invoked along with the Buddhist deities
of the lamas on the Nesol altar or will be included among the pho lha19
of the pawo, the nejum and the bongthing.
For the bon ritual specialists of Tingchim, Dzönga as pho lha is also
considered to be the owner of the land, their warrior god and chief
of all the supernatural beings inhabiting his territory. He is among
the most important pho lha on the altar and manifests himself during
possession rituals as a powerful and protective landlord. The specialists
will invoke him along with the other pho lha mo lha at the time of the
harvest rituals that are performed in every single household. These
harvest offerings are the only calendrical occasions where rituals are
held successively by all three ritual specialists: the pawo, the bongthing
and the lama. The pawo will make harvest offerings to the pho lha mo lha;
the bongthing to the supernatural beings of the territory; and the lama
will perform a ritual offering called Kongso (bsKang gso)20 in honour of

19
The first Chogyal of Sikkim was the descendant of Gye Bumsa’s third son who
had been born thanks to the blessings of Dzönga and other Sikkimese deities when
Gye Bumsa had sought the help of Thekongtek, the Lepcha patriarch, in order to
have children. For this reason, Dzönga became one of the pho lha of the new Sikkimese
dynasty and a number of Lhopo clans and lineages.
20
The literal meaning of bskang gso is ‘to feed to the point of satiety’.
108 chapter three

Chong Gyepo, a feared and untamed mountain god who is considered

to be the owner of all the harvest rituals in Tingchim. The bon ritual
specialists will also invoke Dzönga along with the other pho lha mo lha as
witness in the taking of marriage vows and will perform thanksgiving
rituals in their honour after the birth of a first son. But Dzönga and
the pho lha mo lha will be given their greatest honour during the pawo’s
initiation ritual and annual retreat.
During the national ritual of Pang Lhabsol, which used to be held at
the Palace chapel at Gangtok, Dzönga’s lay warrior-dancers praised the
witness god and invoked him as their warrior god, celebrating the sub-
jugation of enemies21 during the Pangtö cham (dPang bstod ’cham—‘dance
in praise of the witness god’). In this case, the ‘enemy’ was understood
as the enemy of the Dharma and the monasteries, and consequently,
the enemies of the Buddhist kingdom and its monarchy. Indeed, it is
mentioned in the Nesol (f. 55–58), that Jigme Pawo reminded Dzönga
of the oath he swore before Guru Rinpoche to prevent enemies from
entering Sikkim, particularly anyone intending to change the structure
of the administration established by the three lamas who consecrated
the first Chogyal at Yuksum in 1642 and set the borders of the new
kingdom.22
In addition to these celebrations of Dzönga as a secular mountain
god, the lamas in Tingchim will honour him as a Buddhist mountain
deity by performing the Nesol, the ritual composed by Lhatsun Namkha
Jigme when he opened the gate to the beyul. The Nesol is the Buddhist
ritual of the land par excellence, a celebration of Sikkim as a beyul, and
an offering to Dzönga as the greatest god of Beyul Demojong. Its khelen
(oral invocation), chanted by the lama, will invoke all the deities of the
land, starting with the more important protectors and working down
towards those of the immediate locality. Although perceived differently,
Dzönga remains the meeting ground of Tingchim’s bon and Buddhist
ritual specialists, while the recitation of the khelen remains their com-
mon ritual practice. Today, Dzönga’s secular identities as pho lha, related
to fertility of the lineages and the fields, owner of the land, personal
warrior and witness god as well as other secular representations among

21
This cham was designed by the third Chogyal, Chagdor Namgyal when he estab-
lished the Pemayangtse monastery (in 1705) upon his return from Tibet.
22
In the first part of the nineteenth century, the warrior dance would also be per-
formed by lay dancers in Tingchim on other occasions than Pang Lhabsol, most probably
invoking Dzönga as a warrior god for their own reasons.
 the hidden land and its supernatural population 109

the Lhopos, are easily overshadowed by his Buddhist identities. How-

ever, these secular representations must have been significant during
Sikkim’s early days prior to Lhatsun Chenpo’s arrival and the promo-
tion of Dzönga as a Buddhist mountain god, just as they had been in
pre-Buddhist Tibet.
Following his seventeenth century conversion, Dzönga’s ferocious war-
rior aspect as a pho lha seems to have simply been gradually reoriented,
from defending the person, the lineage and the territory against worldly
enemies, towards defending the Dharma, the monasteries and Sikkim
as a newly established Buddhist kingdom against potentially untamed
subjects of the king. Furthermore, his benevolent qualities as a worldly
provider of grain and male descendants were replaced by his role as a
provider of Buddhist scriptures and other spiritual treasures. But the
taming has been a slow process, and although Dzönga’s Buddhist iden-
tity was revealed and promoted in the seventeenth century, the mountain
god did not shed his secular identities immediately. Tingchim villagers
still annually sacrificed an ox for Dzönga and all the local supernatural
beings of Sikkim until the early 1960s. Nebesky-Wojkowitz also quotes
a Sikkimese source as saying
[i]f . . . danger from tigers arises, then this is magic due to the dissatisfaction
of mDzod lnga stag rtse.23 Sacrifice a white yak. If no white yak is available,
then make and offer as a substitute the image of a white yak made of
butter and long like an arrow (1976: 20).
These examples suggest that, in the eyes of the Lhopos, Dzönga retained
the ambivalent character of an untamed mountain god for much longer
than is suggested in the scriptures. But today, the taming process seems
just about complete. Although Dzönga’s secular identities are still hon-
oured by the village lamas in Tingchim, he is never found to be at the
root of someone’s illness or misfortune and blood will no longer be
offered to him directly. Nevertheless, the debate over his identities is
still ongoing. When I was discussing these with a Rinpoche in Gangtok,
he thought it impossible for Dzönga to take possession of the pawo in
Tingchim and address the audience. In his eyes, as God of Wealth,
Dzönga was too high a Buddhist deity and could not possibly descend

23
Dzönga is often referred to as Dzönga Taktsi (mDzod lnga stag rtse) or tiger
peak. Each of its five peaks is said to be crowned by an animal, the highest peak by a
tiger, and the others by a lion, an elephant, a horse, and a garu a (Gazetteer of Sikkim
1894: 355).
110 chapter three

from his heavenly abode upon the body of a simple village pawo. The
Rinpoche concluded that the possessing entity had to be an imposter.
And so it would seem that Karmay’s observation that mountain dei-
ties were not usually the object of both secular and Buddhist cults has
taken place in Sikkim. From ambivalent pho lha, Dzönga has progres-
sively become a Buddhist deity only to be invoked as protector of the
Dharma, the monasteries and the Buddhist kingdom.

6. Perceptions of the supernatural and

questions of identity

We have seen in the previous chapter that the villager’s world is made
up of kin relations as well as village, regional and class/ethnic group
affiliations that are all significant in defining his or her person. Each
of these ties is marked by its own spatial dimension, which is, in turn,
linked to the supernatural through some sacred location. A propos the
latter, the immediate kin group, which shares house, fields and kitchen,
has its own altar (tshogs bshams) where the torma for the pho lha mo lha
are erected and harvest and other offering rituals in their honour are
performed at least twice a year. The altar is the link to the pho lha mo
lha who reside in the high mountains and in the heavenly bon paradises.
The family altar room is also the location for the performance of all
Buddhist rituals sponsored by and held for the benefit of household
members. Another key location within the house is the attic where
offerings of grain and ornaments are made for the anyo in charge of
protecting the house, its food stores, animals and other material pos-
sessions. A particular lineage’s sacred location will correspond to the
altar of the lineage’s personal pawo or nejum when lineage rituals are
being held. Such gatherings for lineage rituals where offerings are made
to the pho lha mo lha on behalf of the whole lineage are very rare. We
have seen that the body of the individual is thought to be the abode
of certain gods, the pho lha sitting under the armpits and the pho lha
warrior god or dablha on the right shoulder.24 In Tingchim, the right
shoulder warrior god is said to be particularly affected by pollution or

24
These are listed by Waddell in the Gazetteer of Sikkim (1894: 353–54) as well as by
Nebesky-Wojkowitz (1956: 264) and Tucci (1980: 187).
 the hidden land and its supernatural population 111

drib, which is found, for example, where people are quarrelling, dying,
or carrying out criminal activities, or at the work place of certain
artisans. Disturbed by the presence of drib, the right shoulder pho lha
would then make the person feel ill. These pho lha have their abode
in the high mountains as well as in the body of the individual, and in
the course of rituals, are invited to take a seat on the torma erected in
their honour on the household’s altar.
The village itself, in terms of space, is limited to the administra-
tive area known as Tingchim Revenue Block, a slice of hillside that
stretches from the top of the hill behind the village all the way down
to the river Teesta. The village space is marked by four major loca-
tions linked to the supernatural, which are the village’s prayer hall or
mani lhakhang, the village’s mendong (man sdong),25 the lake and the funeral
ground where everyone from the village will eventually be cremated.
All bon and Buddhist rituals performed by or for the well-being of the
village as a whole will be performed in one of these locations. Like
everywhere else in Sikkim, there are many smaller and lesser known
sacred landmarks around the village such as rocks bearing impressions
of sacred symbols that are thought of as miraculously self-created,
supporting the notion of Sikkim as a beyul. The village is also popu-
lated by nöpa whose abodes are well-known and scattered throughout
the whole block. Most of these local nöpa, although always potentially
dangerous, are harmless or even beneficial when left undisturbed, with
the exception of two dü and a tsen, all located on the outer borders of
the cluster of Tingchim’s Lhopo houses.
The wider region of six village revenue blocks centred on the
Kagyud monastery of Phodong and the smaller Nyingma monastery
of Labrang,26 corresponds to the old administrative area known as
Phodong Estate during the monarchy. Although the Phodong Estate
no longer exists as an administrative unit, it still plays an important
role as a religious entity. The neighbouring cluster of villages to the

25
The mendong was built following the advice of the Sakya Lama who visited
Tingchim in the late 1920s and instructed the villagers to perform the Buddhist annual
rituals on a regular basis. The mendong, which has the shape of a small stūpa, is meant
to bring good crops and peace among villagers.
26
According to the Electorate Roll 1993 and its 1994 supplement, the Phodong
monastery had 391 registered lamas above the age of eighteen and the Labrang
monastery had only 39.
112 chapter three

south-east, centred on the Nyingma monastery of Phensang, is also

included in this general area of origin. The three monasteries are the
most important religious landmarks of the region and their annual
rituals and cham dances are sponsored, attended by and performed for
the benefit of all the villagers of their respective ‘parishes’. All village
lamas are members of one of these monasteries and some may actively
partake in their rituals on a regular basis, while the membership of
others remain entirely theoretical. As everywhere else in Sikkim, there
are a number of obscure sacred locations within the region but there
are no significant ne comparable to the important pilgrimage sites of
Demojong in West Sikkim that are known, shared and visited by all.
However, for Tingchim villagers, there are three additional important
locations that play a significant role in the religious life of the village.
These are the abodes of the three most feared nöpa that are held
responsible for the great majority of cases of illness in the village.
Interestingly, their abodes are all located beyond the actual Phodong
Estate, somewhere just beyond the borders of the wider general area
of Phodong and Phensang. The first, by the name of Latsen Bagchia,
lives on the mountain pass up the valley of the Bakcha Chu river some
15 kilometres south-east of Tingchim. The second, known as Mön
dre (Mon ’dre), lives where the three valleys meet near Chungthang, a
small town some 25 kilometres north-east of the village. And the third,
Chong Gyepo, resides on the Kabur mountain, one of the lesser peaks
of the Kangchendzönga range north-west of the village, considered to
be the chief cause of illness in Tingchim.
Although the spatial dimension of the Lhopo community, in all
practical terms, no longer corresponds to the state as a whole, many
Sikkimese would still like to think of Sikkim as it used to be, as their
own kingdom ruled by their own Sikkimese king. However, close to 80
per cent of Sikkim’s population today consists of people of Nepalese
origin who started taking over the areas of cultivation in the lower
altitudes of the state over a century ago. Lacking a kingdom and
faced with the present conditions, the Lhopos are not only focusing on
protecting their economic and political rights but also making efforts
to protect the most significant sacred sites within Demojong that are
shared by the whole Lhopo community. Generally, Nepalese prefer
to live in lower and warmer altitudes while Lhopos have built their
houses higher up, where it is cooler and free of malaria, just below
their monasteries that are typically built on hilltops at around 2,000
 the hidden land and its supernatural population 113

metres. These geographical preferences, along with the fact that from
1917, non-indigenous could no longer acquire Lhopo and Lepcha
land, have helped maintain the integrity of Lhopo villages and their
sacred sites, which have survived like islands surrounded by a sea of
Nepalese settlers. Thus, the spatial dimension of the whole Lhopo
community, in all practical terms, has today been reduced to their
villages, monasteries and remote sacred locations. Many local deities
are known and shared by the whole community, with the three most
important being Kangchendzönga, his subordinate Yabdü (Yab bdud)
as well as Masang Khyungdü, the mountain god of the valley of Ha
and Chumbi. All three are located on or slightly beyond the borders
of Sikkim, Kangchendzönga and Masang serving as warrior gods or
protectors against enemies, and Yabdü as a gatekeeper on Sikkim’s
southern border lower down the river Teesta.
The concept of Sikkim as a beyul was introduced earlier in this chap-
ter. The area of Demojong in West Sikkim has an additional important
meaning for the Lhopo community that may be interpreted in various
ways but certainly highlights the role of the ne, or sacred location, as
a door onto the supernatural. Tashiding, where Guru Rinpoche gave
many teachings, is considered to be the central key and umbilical cord
of Demojong. There is a rock in Tashiding that is thought to be a door
that opens onto the elusive hidden land of Beyul Demoshong. It is said
that one cannot force one’s entry into Demoshong but the door to this
valley will open by itself in times of need for human beings to take ref-
uge in the event of war, famine or if Sikkim enters a dangerous period.
Demoshong is described as a heaven where wisdom is spontaneously
acquired, where all one’s needs are fulfilled and where an unlimited
number of people can settle. People are also encouraged to look for
Demoshong but it is said that only those with good fortune and high
virtue may easily succeed.27
While ‘demons’ may represent obstacles to enlightenment for practi-
tioners, or obstacles to the subjugation of populations by the kings, or,
in the case of villagers, obstacles to good health, long life and abundant
harvests, anthropologists have given them yet additional meanings.

27
Before attempting to enter Demoshong, they must first purify themselves by going
on pilgrimage throughout Sikkim without quarrelling, smoking tobacco or causing
explosions. And on their way to Demoshong, they must pray day and night to Guru
Rinpoche.
114 chapter three

It has been suggested by Ortner (1978: 99–101) that ‘demons’, the

equivalent of a category within the degye called dü, can be interpreted
as psychological and social symbols, representing the greedy and preda-
tory elements of society. And Samuel has suggested that “[t]hese spirits
may be conceived of as symbolic representations of disorder and of
lack of balance within individual or community” (1993: 189). If these
are to be seen as symbols of psychological and social forces, then there
is no reason to limit the interpretation to the most malevolent dü and
feared or disordered aspect of the self and society. Indeed, the sacred
locations, their supernatural beings, the ancestral gods and the nöpa
could also symbolise many more aspects of the person and his world,
either in terms of self, kin, village and region or in terms of Sikkimese
identity. In addition to this, all the supernatural beings in Tingchim,
like the human beings and aspects of society that they may have come
to symbolise, have both beneficial and malevolent tendencies and are
rarely, if ever, entirely positive or negative, like supra-worldly gods and
under-worldly demons are usually meant to be. In Tingchim, even the
most dangerous dü may at times be beneficial. For this reason, I have
avoided using the term ‘local deity’ for those with benevolent disposi-
tions and ‘evil’ or ‘malevolent spirit’ for those with negative tenden-
cies so as to avoid creating a rigid and somewhat artificial distinction
between these.
Supernatural beings play a central role when the need arises to assert
a distinct identity. In this context, the most relevant ones are the pho
lha mo lha and the supernatural beings who inhabit the local territory
and come under the leadership of Kangchendzönga and not the high
Buddhist deities that are shared by the Tibetan Buddhist world at large
with the exception of Guru Rinpoche, who is said to have tamed all
the spirits of the land in historical times. Despite this, villagers think
that these spirits—perhaps like the human beings who acknowledge
their existence—tend to forget their vows to be protectors of the faith
and refrain from causing harm. And like the villagers, they may be
capricious, and one day prefer bon rituals and the next Buddhist ones.
This ambivalence and the resulting relationship, which has developed
between the powerful Tibetan Rinpoches who have recently settled
in Sikkim and these unruly Sikkimese entities, is an interesting one in
this context of identity. A respected Tibetan Nyingma lama currently
residing in Sikkim apparently flatly refuses to have anything to do with
Sikkim’s local supernatural beings. The 16th Karmapa tamed them
 the hidden land and its supernatural population 115

and composed a ritual for the people of Tingchim to perform in lieu

of the sacrificial rituals of bon, but some villagers eventually reinstated
the practice of animal sacrifice in the very rare case of life-threaten-
ing illness while the village lamas look the other way. The high lamas’
‘failure’ is conveniently excused by saying that these Sikkimese super-
natural beings have a great dislike for foreigners and that, however
powerful and accomplished the Tibetan Rinpoches may be, attempting
to subdue them and gain control over them would inevitably be a losing
battle. And just like the supernatural beings of the land, one side of
the Lhopos seems to want to boldly retain their ambivalent Sikkimese
tendencies by resisting complete submission to foreign conventional
Buddhist ideals of discipline, celibacy and scholarship.
This expression of nationalism is not the only example illustrating
the role of the supernatural in matters of Sikkimese identity. During
the old days of the kingdom, the mountain god Kangchendzönga
played a central role as a national symbol, and it is said that all ethnic
communities, whatever their origins and whether Hindu or Buddhist,
used to recognise and worship Kangchendzönga if they considered
themselves first and foremost as Sikkimese. More recently, preserving
the sacred sites of the area of Yuksum at the heart of Demojong was
the object of a campaign against the construction of the Rathong Chu
hydro-electric project, which will be discussed at length in chapter 8.
In this case, the preservation of the ne became a rallying issue for the
Lhopo community to unite and wake up to the fact that they were
losing their identity and strength as a community because of personal
financial and other political interests.

This chapter has attempted to outline Tingchim villagers’ perception

of the supernatural. Its complex and ever present nature, along with
its accepted interaction with the natural and social worlds, ensures
that the supernatural remains a powerful element in village life. The
pho lha mo lha and the supernatural beings of the territory that are so
fundamental to the Sikkimese perception of themselves and the world
they live in, are the domain of the bon and Buddhist household rituals
of village religion. Consequently, the performance of these rituals by
the village’s bon or Buddhist ritual specialists, however unorthodox they
may seem to more conventional Buddhist lamas, should perhaps be read
as a healthy sign, that despite the death of the kingdom, the Sikkimese
ethos still refuses to die. With the exception of the Buddhist deities, this
116 chapter three

concludes our mapping of Tingchim’s supernatural world. How the

supernatural affects the physical and social environments, and the way
in which the ritual specialists thrive to take control of this relationship
in matters of illness, are outlined in the following chapter.
 CHAPTER FOUR

VILLAGE RELIGION: RITUAL OF ILLNESS

The rituals of village religion performed by the lamas, the pawo and
the bongthing, are usually concerned with the fertility and prosperity of the
fields, the patrilineage and the village, or with providing a remedy
when these are threatened by illness, hail, curses or other misfortunes.
The prevention and countering of disease in Tingchim are probably
the most important platform where the two forms of ritual, bon and
Buddhist, and their specialists are made to interact, collaborate and
sometimes compete. Perhaps because of its pervasiveness and potentially
fatal consequences, illness and its proper diagnosis and treatment has
provided the richest ground for the development and expression of the
relation between bon and Buddhism. It is indeed around the subjects
of greatest concern to villagers such as illness, crop failure and land
disputes, where the relation has been the most intense. And it is over
such problems that their interaction has contributed the most to the
creation of rituals that are neither entirely bon nor purely Buddhist
and which in some cases call for the unusual direct and indirect ritual
collaboration of lama, pawo and bongthing.
This chapter introduces the various possible causes attributed to illness
and how the cycle of illness caused by the nöpa, the harmful spirits, is
locally perceived. The diagnostic phase reveals the extent to which the
body, the physical and social environments and the supernatural are
thought to be interrelated and affect one another. If it is established
that the illness has a supernatural cause, the bongthing, the pawo and the
lamas will be consulted according to an established although flexible
order and they will work together so as to relieve the patient of his
suffering, ideally, by tracing the affliction down to a curse or a wrong-
doing that might have offended a local nöpa. The need for propitiatory
animal sacrifice as the ultimate curing ritual whereby an animal life
is offered in exchange for that of the patient has become a dilemma
for most villagers since the early 1960s, when the 16th Karmapa put
a halt to the practice in Tingchim by providing a substitute Buddhist
ritual. Nevertheless, some villagers are still caught in the debate over
the pros and cons of the ‘red offering’ and its benefits according to bon
118 chapter four

rituals versus its negative consequences according to Buddhist principles.

The lamas are usually consulted only if the bongthing and the pawo fail
in their initial attempts at healing the patient. Dissatisfaction with the
lamas’ diagnoses seems to be rooted in the fact that these fail to exploit
the accepted relation between the body, the social and physical environ-
ments and the supernatural while the bon curing rituals emphasise the
link in a way that seems therapeutic not only for the patient but for
his anxious group of relatives. For the same reason, the village lamas
who share the same shamanic worldview will themselves consult the
bon specialists when necessary.
Until the arrival of the 16th Karmapa in Sikkim and the gradual
introduction of conventional Buddhist ideas in Tingchim, bon and
Buddhism were more or less well integrated in the village. Later in this
chapter, the different levels of ritual collaboration that have evolved out
of this encounter are presented.

1. On the cause of illness

Establishing the cause of illness and performing the recommended

rituals or medical treatments was always a major source of preoc-
cupation and social interaction among Lhopos wherever I stayed in
Sikkim, whether in the village or in the town of Gangtok. Illness, and
particularly the establishment of its causes, was not only related to the
nöpa but seemed to have some relevance to just about every aspect of
people’s relations with the social and physical environment.
Illness can be attributed to six general causes. First, an illness can
be inflicted by a nöpa who has been offended or provoked either by the
patient’s or someone else’s wrongdoing. Socially condemned actions
such as quarrelling with relatives or destroying certain natural features
are thought to produce a certain kind of pollution called drib that is
offensive to Buddhist deities, to the protectors of the land and the nöpa
under their control. The presence of drib in a locality is provocative
and incites the nöpa to take revenge by inflicting illness and misfortune
on villagers. The notion of drib is central to the understanding of the
complete cycle of illness caused by wrongdoing, as pollution is the
‘substance’ or articulating factor that links the mental and physical
condition of the body and the locality to the supernatural and the social
worlds surrounding it. Once a nöpa has come into contact with drib,
rituals must be performed in order to reveal the pollution-generating
 village religion: ritual of illness 119

action so that it may be checked, and in order to ritually purify the

lingering drib. In this sense, illness caused by a nöpa cannot be perceived
as an isolated phenomenon affecting the individual, but as a cycle with
pollution as the key element from the moment of disruption to the
moment of resolution.
Secondly, an illness can result from contact with places, situations,
people and foods that are thought of as polluting, such as onion and
garlic, the workplace of the butcher, the blacksmith, and the tailor,
where humans are being born, dying, quarrelling or carrying out
criminal activities, as well as crowded places, dirty hotels and army
camps. Not everyone is said to be sensitive to this kind of pollution.
People of ‘high birth’, such as tulku, monks, lamas, shamans as well
as rich and knowledgeable people are thought to be especially sensi-
tive to drib, which may result in headache, stomach-ache, blindness or
even paralysis. Purification rituals by lamas but sometimes also by the
bongthing may be performed to alleviate the symptoms, although the
purification of drib is generally not the domain of the bon specialists
until its presence provokes negative reactions in local nöpa.
Thirdly, illness may be caused by a form of witchcraft known as barmo
(’bar mo)1 based on envy and evil eye, by deliberate poisoning known
as duk (dug) or by curses known as cherka (byad kha) or purkha ( phur kha).
In the latter case, a nöpa would have been instructed by someone else,
with or without the help of a religious specialist, to cause the illness.
Fourthly, illness can be the direct consequence of the patient’s karma
(las) in which case little can be done as a remedy besides Buddhist rituals
performed for the merit of the patient. Fifthly, it can be a ‘natural’ or
contagious disease (rims nad) that simply came by contact with others
and the wind or by working long hours in the fields in the rain—hay
fever and malaria are thought to be in this category. And lastly, it can
be the mechanical result of an action performed on an inappropriate
date. For example, weddings should not be held on the 5th, the 15th or
the 25th of any given month, funerals on the 8th, the 18th and 28th,
nor should one travel on the 2nd, 8th, 14th, 20th and 26th, etc.
Whenever the pawo or the bongthing are consulted for identifying the
cause and treating someone’s illness, the first and most important thing

1
Barmo is a type of witchcraft based on envy. It is said to be consciously and mali-
ciously performed exclusively by women who have been trained in this black art by their
mothers (see chapter 6). It is the equivalent of the boksi witches of the Nepalese.
120 chapter four

to be established is whether or not a nöpa is responsible for inflicting

the suffering.2 In many cases, a particular nöpa will be identified through
divination (mo) which will in turn dictate the appropriate ritual treatment.
No allopathic medical treatment can be sought until the prescribed
ritual has been performed, as it is believed that not only would the
treatment be ineffective but the condition of the patient might even
seriously worsen. Only if it is clearly established that no nöpa is involved,
as in the case of what is considered a ‘natural’ or contagious disease,
is it then appropriate to seek medical treatment alone. On the other
hand, if a nöpa has been identified as the cause, the diagnostic process
will be carried on, sometimes over several séances that can involve a
large number of ritual specialists, until the nöpa’s identity and motiva-
tion for inflicting the suffering have been correctly established and the
corresponding ritual treatment properly performed, at which point
the patient would be expected suddenly to recover or at least improve
significantly. Whether bon or Buddhist, such rituals are called shapten
(zhabs brtan) and are also meant to turn any bad or inauspicious situ-
ation into a positive one by removing obstacles and strengthening the
life force of the patient. If the patient fails to recover or even dies from
the disease, it could be that the ritual specialists failed to establish the
cause correctly and thus perform the proper ritual shapten. Alternatively,
it may have been a question of karma, in which case very little could
have been done to prevent the outcome anyway.
When divination reveals that an illness was caused by a nöpa, the
ritual specialist must then uncover the spirit’s motivation for causing
harm. If it isn’t a case of curse or cherkha where the nöpa would have
been instructed by an enemy to cause the ailment, the nöpa would have
been prompted to inflict the disease because of the patient’s or someone
else’s wrongdoing. A successful diagnosis that would prompt recovery
implies identifying the action that offended or angered the responsible
nöpa in the first place. In my research assistant’s own words,
people are always doing wrong; this wakes up the nöpa and then there is
a good chance for them to cause trouble. If anyone does wrong in the
village, like burning meat outside or quarrelling over land and money,
the nöpa will make the village people suffer.

2
Similarly, Paul mentions that among the Sherpas, most diseases are thought to
result from having offended or neglected some supernatural being that populates the
Sherpa universe (1976: 144).
 village religion: ritual of illness 121

Any action that may be offensive to the nöpa or higher deities of

the land such as Dzönga may be a source of drib. The presence of
pollution is then likely to cause offence to the nöpa whose abode is the
closest to the scene of the action. In Tingchim, wrongdoings are not
limited to any particular facet of life and may include actions against
oneself, the kin group, other villagers, the physical environment, its
agricultural, hunting and gathering products, and of course, the nöpa
who inhabit, own or protect any of these. Examples of pollution-gen-
erating actions may include wrong speech such as lying or quarrelling,
stealing—especially monastic possessions—or any criminal activity,
omitting to perform rituals to the pho lha mo lha, breaking a vow that
had been taken with a deity as witness, damaging natural phenomena,
polluting water sources, killing animals and burning meat. Interestingly,
a wrong action performed that may have repercussions or represent
a threat for the entire community, such as polluting a common water
source, will not only have potential supernatural repercussions for the
perpetrator but could also prompt a nöpa to attack any member of the
village. This naturally further encourages villagers to condemn actions
that may have negative consequences for the group. It also enables them
to blame other people in the village, including threatening outsiders,
for their own misfortunes.
It is important not to reduce the nöpa to ‘demons’ who punish
humans for their sins, who only manifest themselves through illness
and misfortune. Nöpa are independent beings who live in a world of
their own that happens to overlap with that of humans since they have
taken their abode among features of the natural environment. These
nöpa also have a life of their own, since they are caught in sa sāra and,
like human beings, keep turning on the wheel of life. They each have
a history, a past, a future, sometimes a consort, a retinue, possessions
and responsibilities. They have their own character, needs, cravings
and dislikes. But above all, nöpa are ambivalent beings with supra-
human powers which, like that of humans, can be used in a negative
or positive way. Since their powers can be used destructively, they may
be seen as evil or demonic, but even the worst of all nöpa called dü,
may be reformed, cajoled or just bribed so that they may contain their
destructive tendencies. These nöpa are free agents who would rather
stay away from human beings but who are forced to interact with them
because of human actions. The question of agency is crucial to the
understanding of the interaction of both worlds. If left undisturbed and
to themselves, nöpa would not interfere in the world of humans. This
122 chapter four

is very different from the notion of demons who are thought to act on
their own, as seems to be the case in Sri Lanka, where “demons and
ghosts are understood to act capriciously and without warning” and
where “patients only have a limited responsibility for illness” (Kapferer
1983: 52). In Tingchim, ultimate agency rests with human beings, who
through their actions invoke or provoke the nöpa to intervene in the
world of humans. According to Kapferer,
illness demonically conceived is not reducible to terms independent of
its demonic conception . . . [and] is above all a sociocultural construct to
be understood first and foremost at this level and in its own cultural and
social terms (ibid.: 87).
Further, the demonic is seen as having ‘intra-metaphoric’ dimensions
whereby
it is manifested simultaneously in physical, mental and social disorder,
each signing and symbolizing the other (ibid.: 90) [and] a reduction,
therefore, of the demonic to analytical terms which deny the integrity
of the demonic as a phenomenon in and of itself, distorts and limits
understanding (ibid.: 88).
I agree with Kapferer that demonic illness must be understood in its own
cultural and social terms and in the case of Tingchim, this especially
means understanding the ‘demonic’ as a dual and powerful entity, as
much capable of inflicting illness and misfortune, as helping humans in
their misery. Despite their explicit coercive role in society, nöpa may also
be perceived as potentially powerful and helpful. For example, one of
the cruelest nöpa by the name of Latsen Bagchia, held responsible for a
large proportion of cases of illness, is also the protector of women and
the provider of milk and curd; and Chong Gyepo, the most feared of
all, is also considered the owner of the harvests. Similarly, any of the
most vicious nöpa, sent by curse to extinguish someone’s lineage, can,
through counter-witchcraft, be turned into a protector of the same
descent group and as a result, become a pseudo-pho lha or eventually,
even a full-fledged pho lha. In the same way, the nöpa responsible for
someone’s illness, once his motivation is exposed and a ritual apology
performed, may then retract the illness and restore the health of the
patient. In a more direct manner, the beneficial qualities of the nöpa
may be invoked by the bon ritual specialists for different ritual purposes,
the most common being divination, in order to protect ripening crops
from hail or when seeking protection from enemies. It is said that excep-
tional bon ritual specialists, in the past, were able to physically ‘see’ the
 village religion: ritual of illness 123

nöpa and provide a description of their appearance to villagers. Today,

any villager who maintains a personal relation with an important nöpa
of the area may have dreams where the latter appears in order to give
predictions and warnings.
If the supernatural beings of bon, whether pho lha mo lha or nöpa, have
come to be seen as ‘demons’ in the literature, I believe it to be a result
of the influence of conventional Buddhism which tends to portray high
Buddhist deities as the only true providers and protectors capable of
offering more than temporary relief from human suffering.3 From a more
conventional Buddhist viewpoint, the nöpa are evil beings who must be
tamed by high deities and Rinpoches or through one’s own practice
of Dharma, while the pho lha mo lha are seen as limited providers and
protectors who may easily slip back from their semi-converted state.
This, of course, can be seen as an effort to spread the light of Buddhism
among ‘devil-worshipping’ societies that equally needed to be tamed
and brought under the political umbrella of the Buddhist state. But in
the world of village religion, as we have seen, nöpa and pho lha mo lha
are not unlike humans, with positive and negative tendencies, with the
difference that their powers may be extraordinary.
As a result of this dual tendency, one aspect of the nöpa is perceived
as fulfilling an indirect moral and coercive role in many village affairs.
If the wrongdoing is performed against the environment, the retribution
will come directly from the nöpa who either owns, inhabits or protects
this particular object of nature. The chief of all these territorial spir-
its is the mountain deity and ancestral god Kangchendzönga, who is
said to be able to take control of these unruly nöpa when adequately
propitiated in order to prevent hail and other natural calamities. If
the wrongdoing is performed by someone against himself—such as
breaking a vow—or against the interest of his kin group, the retribu-
tion will indirectly come from the ancestral gods who will withdraw
their protection and thus make the person vulnerable to nöpa attacks.
In such a case, the moral agent is not the nöpa but the ancestral gods

3
For example, see Lamaism in Sikkim (Waddell 1894) section VI, Demonolatry.
“Like most mountaineers, the Sikkimites and Tibetans are thorough going demon-
worshippers. In every nook, path, big tree, rock, spring, waterfall, and lake there lurks
a devil; hence there are few persons who will venture out alone after dark. The sky, the
ground, the house, the field, the country, have each their special demons, and sickness
is always due to malign demonical influence” (1894: 136). This view of ‘demonolatry’
probably stems from both the author’s Christian background and his informant’s
Buddhist orientation.
124 chapter four

who look after the prosperity of the lineage and its members. If one
villager wrongs another who is unrelated, their common ancestral gods
may be asked to sit as supernatural judges in attempting to resolve the
conflict. If matters get out of hand, the ancestral gods and lower nöpa
under their influence may be invoked either to protect lineage mem-
bers against curses sent by enemies or to carry out curses to defend
lineage interests. In attempting to resolve a conflict with an outsider, a
Lhopo villager may invoke any supernatural entity within the village’s
spiritual hierarchy, including the wrathful Buddhist deities, in order to
seek protection or send curses and, in some cases, may also seek help
from the local authorities (Panchayat), the police, the court, and ritual
specialists from beyond the village and other ethnic communities.

2. Diagnosing the cause of illness

If it has been established that an illness is caused by a nöpa, villagers

will seek the divining powers of several ritual specialists until the patient
shows signs of significant improvement. This implies that a specific nöpa
would have been named and ideally, the correct pollution-generating
action uncovered and ritually purified, or the right curse identified.
Reaching such a conclusion will usually occur in the initial days of
the illness unless it is a chronic disease, in which case fresh diagnoses
will be sought and rituals performed, sometimes obsessively, until the
patient’s recovery or death. If the illness is mild, one ritual specialist’s
vague diagnosis and ritual offering will usually be sufficient and the mat-
ter forgotten as the patient quickly recovers. But in the case of a severe
and sudden illness, the whole household will be in a state of emergency
and the extended family will be on alert to provide assistance as events
unfold. Help will be needed in locating the ritual specialists, in the per-
formance of the rituals, in organising transport, but also, in discussing,
comparing and commenting on the different causes provided by each
ritual specialist and, if necessary, advising on who should be consulted
next. The patient may or may not be included in these discussions as
he will be suffering in another room, especially if a child. The search
for a cause and the right ritual shapten to be performed will intensify as
the patient’s condition deteriorates in which case successive divinations
will be made, in extreme cases through the night, although usually no
more than one a day will be sought.
 village religion: ritual of illness 125

The first diagnosis will suggest a nöpa and a cause that may be either
obvious or relatively close to the patient, such as that the anyo protec-
tor of the house may have been offended. As the search intensifies,
new suggestions may be dug up from the patient’s, the household’s or
the lineage’s past by the pawo or the bongthing’s divinations such as the
reactivation of an old curse by a recent event, or from the larger social
environment beyond the household. In this case, other villagers’ or
outsiders’ recent actions that are socially condemned or thought of as
threatening to the community may be put forward by the divining ritual
specialists as long as some connection with the patient or his house-
hold may be established. Whatever the case, a cause will be accepted
by everyone as the correct one when the corresponding ritual for the
responsible nöpa significantly improves the condition of the patient. A
marked sense of relief will replace the general state of anxiety and
confusion in the assembly of relatives as they now comment on the
obviousness and relevance of the successfully divined cause on which
they may now expand and offer confirming evidence!
Establishing the cause of illness among the Limbus of East Nepal
presents many similarities with the process in Tingchim. Sagant relates
that after the shaman indicates the identity of the responsible spirit,
the shaman’s client
must search his past, find a fault, the violation of a taboo, an infringe-
ment of the rules instituted by the ancestors. Only then will he be deliv-
ered from anxiety. . . . The effectiveness of the cure is spectacular (1996
[1987]: 364).
Although a fault, ideally, must also be found during the diagnostic phase
in Tingchim, only rarely will the patient search his own past, and the
fault will usually be revealed by the pawo or the bongthing. The differ-
ence is understandable since in Tingchim, the fault may lie with an
outsider or a villager other than the patient, as long as it is considered
detrimental to the group or the community’s environment. Only the
pawo’s or the bongthing’s divine diagnosis may result in the blame being
laid at another person’s door. The pawo and the bongthing both know
the history and activities of every household and its members, and are
well aware of the current problems and violations within the village as
well as recent and old tensions between families. Both are continuously
going from house to house, performing rituals and eating in people’s
kitchens and keeping abreast of all village developments.
126 chapter four

Sagant mentions that

[t]hree factors enter into . . . recovery, then: the illness, which refers to the
human body; the spirit attack, which emanates from the world of the
gods; and the explanation of the attack, which the community discov-
ers in the rubble of its past. The body, society, the gods, the notion that
these three levels are interrelated is found throughout Asia and America
(1996 [1987]: 361).
Although these three factors are equally present and interrelated in
the cycle of illness in Tingchim, that of the territory or the locality
may be included as a fourth. Earlier in this chapter, I mentioned that
the notion of drib or pollution was the articulating factor that linked
the mental and physical condition of the body and the locality to the
supernatural and the social worlds surrounding it. Although the notion
of pollution, which accompanies a state of illness, is also present among
the Limbus, pollution does not seem to be created by wrongdoings or
to precede and precipitate the illness as drib does in Tingchim. Sagant
simply mentions that “[i]n the presence of impurity that goes with ill-
ness, the local gods withdraw” (1996 [1987]: 362). The importance of
drib in all phases of the cycle of illness in Tingchim seems to highlight
the importance of the purity and pollution of the sacred environment
as the platform where the relation between the body, society and the
gods unfolds. The importance of the locality as a key element in the
cycle of illness became evident when Lopen Dugyal openly pronounced
the names of a feared nöpa while we were in Gangtok, something he
would never have done in Tingchim. He said there was no danger
as Gangtok was too far from the village for the nöpa residing around
Tingchim to hear us.

2.1. The sequence of cure and its ultimate ritual: the ‘red’ offering
Tingchim villagers will consult a large number of ritual specialists in
the hope of curing sick relatives. They use a system that will normally
involve the bongthing, the pawo or the nejum and the lamas within the
village but that will also be expanded to include ritual specialists from
other ethnic—including Hindu—communities and the consultation of
Tibetan and Sikkimese Rinpoches and medical doctors in Gangtok.
Generally, the bongthing will be the first person consulted when
someone falls ill. A member of the household will go to the bongthing’s
house or find him wherever he is in the village and ask him to divine
 village religion: ritual of illness 127

the cause of the ailment. This he will do on the spot by throwing dice.
Depending on the type of illness and the result of the dice as well as
his knowledge of the family’s and the patient’s history, the bongthing will
first establish whether the illness is or is not caused by a nöpa. If it is,
he will then reveal the name of the nöpa responsible for the present
case and may also mention why the nöpa is acting in such a way. He
will indicate the ritual he will have to perform in order to persuade
the nöpa to leave his victim in peace.4 There are about sixteen well-
known nöpa as well as countless minor supernatural entities living in
and around Tingchim, and one or two of these may be identified by
the bongthing’s divination. Each has a particular ‘taste’ and most senior
villagers know what each one will require as a first, second and third
offering in exchange for the patient’s recovery. In most cases, the first
offering consists of karchö 5—cooked rice, boiled eggs, flowers and but-
ter lamps—laid down on a banana leaf called labyong (la ’byongs) that is
offered by the bongthing in the patient’s house while chanting the khelen
invocation. The labyong is the most common and the least expensive
offering, both as far as its contents and the bongthing’s fees, and villagers
will always hope that the responsible nöpa will be satisfied with a labyong
and that the patient will soon recover after its performance.
There are no fixed rules as to whom to consult initially, although
the bongthing is usually the first to be consulted in order to establish
whether a nöpa is at all involved. But if the illness is sudden and severe,
some may see the pawo to start with. If the patient fails to show signs
of improvement after the first ritual shapten prescribed by the bongthing,
a senior member of the household may either re-consult the bongthing
but usually will now seek a second opinion by asking the pawo’s advice.
Generally, a second divination will be sought by a different ritual spe-
cialist otherwise the bongthing may now recommend that an animal be
sacrificed as a second offering. This is something all villagers will either
refrain from or at least try to avoid for as long as possible since killing
is considered sinful in Buddhism, and sacrificial rituals are considerably
more expensive than vegetarian ones.

4
The diagnostic role of the bongthing is here reminiscent of that of the mindung
of the Sherpas. According to Fürer-Haimendorf, the mindung, who, like the bongthing,
never gets possessed, will discover through clairvoyance or other divination method the
identity of the supernatural being attacking the patient (1964: 262).
5
This type of offering is called karchö (white offering) as opposed to marchö (red
offering).
128 chapter four

The pawo will divine by counting his rosary beads or grains of rice
scattered on a plate if this is a simple case but will go into trance if
the family is anxious for a more accurate and effective reading. When
a trance takes place, the pawo will invite the troubling nöpa to take pos-
session of him and use his body to introduce himself, express why he is
troubling the sick person and state what ritual offering would appease
him. The person interacting with the nöpa will always be a senior rela-
tive of the patient who knows how to negotiate with these troubling
beings. The senior relative will sit on the floor facing the pawo and once
the responsible nöpa, through the medium of the pawo, has expressed
his grievance, the negotiator will then bargain for an offering that will
please him enough so that he may relinquish his grip on the patient.6
While crouching in front of the possessed pawo, the patient’s negotia-
tor will point and offer his two index fingers to the nöpa possessing the
pawo while imagining that each finger corresponds to a particular ritual
offering. Without ever voicing the names of the suggested rituals, the
negotiator will ask the nöpa possessing the pawo to indicate which one
of the two shapten he considers acceptable by holding and shaking the
corresponding index finger with his little finger. The first choice of ritual
shapten will usually be between a labyong and a simple Buddhist ritual.
The main risk of this method is that the nöpa may refuse both and the
skill of the negotiator now comes into play as the nöpa might insist on
the sacrifice of an animal and, if at all possible, will have to be talked
out of it. The negotiator will suggest other rituals based on the known
taste of the troubling spirit until a deal is concluded and fingers are
shaken after which the nöpa will leave. The pawo will now get possessed
by the previous pawo of his spiritual lineage who will either confirm,
clarify or in some cases change the choice of ritual offering. The trance
will now end and the pawo will immediately perform the ritual shapten
that has been agreed upon. In all cases of ritual specialists consulted
for illness, the ritual will be followed by a meal, and chang (millet beer)
will be offered to the pawo or the bongthing, along with the payment of
his fees by the patient’s family.
The cause of an illness diagnosed by the pawo may be the same as
the cause previously diagnosed by the bongthing, a new one based on a
complication of the first, or an entirely new proposition. Whatever the

6
Among the Sherpas, the lhawa shaman verbalises both sides of the exchange (Paul
1976: 146).
 village religion: ritual of illness 129

Plate 7: Curing ritual: Tingchim Pawo Nadu offering an ox’s rib to the
village’s gatekeeper, a well-known local supernatural being

case, if the second ritual offering again fails to show results, the rela-
tives of the patient will now seek a third opinion from a village lama.
Some villagers may consult a lama as a second alternative directly
after seeing either the bongthing or the pawo in a first consultation, but
the lama is rarely, if ever, consulted first as the control of nöpa is the
ritual domain of the bongthing and to some extent of the pawo.7 Some
lamas, such as the previous abbot of Phodong monastery, will refuse
to deal with such lowly entities and will discourage village lamas from
performing curing rituals where offerings are made to local nöpa. On
the other hand, a village lama may be consulted before the bongthing
or the pawo, not for divining the cause of illness, but for his ability to
blow healing mantras onto the affected area of the patient’s body and
for general purification (khrus).
When eventually asked to divine the cause of an illness, the lamas
will use a Buddhist text that will indicate the general class of responsible

7
Among the Yolmo of Helambu, Schmid has mentioned that the lamas complained
that the bompo shaman was always consulted first in case of illness (1967: 85).
130 chapter four

degye 8 along with the corresponding Buddhist ritual shapten. Contrary to

bon divination, no specific nöpa will be named; only its general class will
be revealed and no direct interaction will take place with the responsible
entity in order to establish its identity, the reason for its dissatisfaction
and the desired ritual offering, a vagueness the villagers will complain
about. Pinpointing the cause of illness down to a specific nöpa having
a specific motivation is all part of the process of healing, and if these
are not uncovered, the patient and his relatives won’t be relieved of
the anxiety that accompanies the state of illness. The Buddhist method
relies on a different principle whereby the degye’s complaints are not
entertained but, instead, they are reminded of the vows they took in
ancient times when they were tamed by Guru Rinpoche to be protectors
of the faith and to refrain from harming sentient beings. To accomplish
this, the lama invokes the tantric deity presiding over the ritual and,
through meditation, identifies himself with the supra-worldly deity and
emanates its qualities. In this state, he has the ability to remind the lower
worldly degye that they are to refrain from harm and must leave the sick
person in peace. When the lamas performs these rituals, villagers are
usually unaware of what the lamas are trying to accomplish and thus
do not participate in the performance of healing as they would if the
bongthing or the pawo were officiating.
The most common curing rituals held by the lamas are the Nesol and
the Kongso, both well-known ritual offerings for Sikkim’s local deities,
which will be discussed in chapter 6. The next most common ritual is
the offering of a structure called dö (mdos) made of one of more thread-
crosses erected over a dough effigy called lü ( glud ). Depending on the
general category of responsible degye, the lama will erect a tsen dö, a gye
dö or a dü dö, etc., depending on whether the dö is to be offered to a
tsen, a gyepo or a dü, together with a dough effigy of the patient placed
below the thread-cross. After identifying himself with the tantric deity
of the ritual and reminding the degye of his submission vow, the lama
will visualise the thread-cross as a palace into which the degye will be
invited to take a seat and persuaded to accept the dough effigy of the
patient as a substitute. Offerings of food, clothes, milk, tea, chang and
meat, depending on the degye’s taste, will be placed next to the effigy.
The lama will visualise these offerings as beautiful, pure and plentiful

8
The lamas only deal with the degye (eight classes of spirits) since the other nöpa such
as the ajo anyo and latsen are not specifically mentioned in their scriptures.
 village religion: ritual of illness 131

and the troubling degye will be gently convinced to accept these instead
of remaining, as Lopen Dugyal puts it, in “the poor and dirty house
of the patient where there is nothing to eat.” He may also be recom-
mended to go and look elsewhere, particularly in big towns where
there are many rich people who can offer him all he wants. After the
ritual, the dö is simply taken outside and abandoned on the edge of a
field. Depending on the gravity of the situation and its diagnosis, the
lama may have to perform lengthier rituals such as the reading of a
religious text or the recitation of several hundred thousand mantras for
the merit of the patient or an even more elaborate ritual if the patient
is diagnosed as suffering from ‘soul loss’ (bla gtor).
At this stage, if the lama’s rituals also fail to improve the state of the
patient, the family might ask a neighbouring Bāhun jhā‘ kri, renowned for
his accurate divination, or the Tamang or Limbu jh‘ākri to offer a new
opinion. These Nepalese ritual specialists are settled lower down the
valley within Tingchim Block and work as agricultural tenant farmers
for the Lhopo landowners. These jh‘ākri, unfamiliar with the Lhopos’
territorial deities and ancestral gods, will refer to the entity responsible
for the disease in their own terms which the Lhopos will know how to
interpret. The bongthing or the pawo will then be informed of this new
reading and will perform the corresponding ritual shapten which will
only very rarely be performed by a ritual specialist of another ethnic
community as this would be considered offensive to the Lhopos’ pho
lha mo lha. If this again fails, the family will now have to either look
for a solution beyond the village, or return to the bongthing for a new
divination, which this time is likely to lead to the sacrificial offering of
an animal as a substitute for the life of the patient. Some villagers may
decide to follow the way of their forefathers and ask the bongthing to
offer a goat or a chicken on a labyong while others, usually the wealthier
with a higher level of education, will go to Gangtok in order to seek
the blessings of a Rinpoche and bring the patient to the hospital.
The patient may already have consulted a doctor from the district
hospital of Mangan some fifteen kilometres away, especially if the
bongthing had initially diagnosed the disease as a ‘natural’ one and not
caused by a nöpa. I am aware of only two young educated men in the
village who would send their children to the doctor before consulting
the bongthing. Both work for the government and have respectively com-
pleted classes ten and twelve. Others might have consulted the doctor in
Mangan after the first or the second ritual offering had failed but many
will wait until this stage, as going to the doctor can be a very expensive
132 chapter four

affair. A consultation with a doctor from a government hospital is free

but the medicines have to be paid for and are often beyond the reach
of villagers. The problem is compounded by the fact that, at the time
of fieldwork, the particular doctor posted at Mangan did not have a
good reputation. Tingchim villagers had more confidence in his prede-
cessor and now did not consider it worthwhile to invest time or money
in seeing his successor. Instead, they preferred visiting Gangtok’s Sir
Thutop Namgyal Memorial Hospital or paying the fees of a private
doctor in Gangtok some 53 kilometres away. Going to Gangtok is an
expensive journey and for this reason a first visit to the doctor could
be even further delayed. If the money is not readily available at the
time of illness, the family will either settle for the Mangan doctor or
abandon the idea of seeing a doctor altogether and fall back on the
village’s ritual specialists to perform new divinations and rituals. Only
when the patient’s state becomes critical will the family now borrow the
required funds to travel to Gangtok to see a reputable doctor and in
most cases, it will already be too late for him to do anything, and the
family won’t have enough money to pay for the medicine anyway.
If the family can afford a visit to a doctor in Gangtok before such
a critical stage has been reached, the patient will travel with a relative
and ideally will first visit a high lama such as Dodrupchen Rinpoche in
order to receive his divination and blessing. Rinpoche will also indicate
which ritual shapten has to be done but will not, in any way, deal directly
with the local entity that the villagers regard as the cause of their ill-
ness. Some rituals recommended by Dodrupchen Rinpoche will have
to be performed in the house of the patient by a village lama while
others, such as the reading of a sacred text, may be done by Rinpoche’s
monks against some donation to the Gangtok monastery. The patient
will then go to the doctor, often following Rinpoche’s advice and return
to the village the same evening. Any rituals prescribed by Rinpoche
will be performed by a village lama the next day. If the patient again
fails to improve, a wealthy family will seek the advice of specialised
doctors and perhaps other Rinpoches reputed to cure the particular
ailment plaguing the patient. Eventually, however, it will have to face
the option of animal sacrifice.
The subject of animal sacrifice (srog dbugs btang shed ) is somewhat
taboo and villagers are ashamed of having to resort to this practice
when someone is seriously ill. For this reason, I was first told that ani-
mal sacrifice was a thing of the past until I stumbled unknowingly on
a ritual where a goat had just been killed. The act of taking life is an
 village religion: ritual of illness 133

important transgression of Buddhist principles and the need for the

offering in bon rituals against its consequence according to Buddhism
presents a difficult dilemma for some villagers. Performing animal
sacrifices was not an issue in Tingchim until the arrival of the 16th
Karmapa in Sikkim. He intervened in the matter in 1962 when many
people were dying from an epidemic in the Lhopo villages of North
Sikkim between Tingchim and Phodong. Villagers sought the help of
the 16th Karmapa who then discovered that the Lhopos from these
villages were still engaged in the practice of offering oxen, pigs, goats
and chickens to the supernatural entities inhabiting the land. The
heads of the neighbouring villages of Seyam, Namok and Tingchim
along with Tingchim’s lama head-teacher or penlob (dpon slob), went
to see the 16th Karmapa in Rumtek and asked for a short ritual that
could be performed as a substitute. The Karmapa composed a special
ritual that mentions the names, provided by the villagers, of the most
malevolent nöpa of the area and that asks for the burning of bones
as a substitute for the offering of an animal life. Before initiating the
lama head-teacher in the performance of this new ritual, the Karmapa
performed a ritual before the group of villagers to take control of the
local nöpa by renewing their vows of submission to Guru Rinpoche.
Only then would the villagers be satisfied that the burning of bones
would be sufficient as an offering. Upon their return to Tingchim, they
recounted that when the Karmapa called the names of the nöpa in
order to subdue them, his physical appearance became wrathful and
changed to black, green, yellow and red.
Tsing Tsing Ma al, the then village head, ordered all villagers to
abandon animal sacrifice forthwith and to perform the Karmapa’s
substitute ritual instead, adding that anyone who wished to continue
sacrificing animals had to move out of the village. The village’s lama
head-teacher performed the ritual and for the following decade, no
blood offering took place in Tingchim. Everyone between the villages
of Phodong and Tingchim abandoned the practice simultaneously and
four people in Tingchim took the vow never to resort to it again.9 Then,
in the mid-seventies, some villagers secretly started to sacrifice animals
again in the hope of saving the lives of sick relatives but apparently the

9
These were Tsing Tsing Ma al, Lopen Dugyal’s father, the lama head-teacher
and Tobden Ripünpa, a senior villager who passed away in 1992. The vow has been
kept up by them or some of their respective descendants until this day.
134 chapter four

villages closer to Phodong monastery have refrained until this day. Tsing
Tsing Ma al, who passed away in 1977, was too old and already semi-
retired when this happened and no longer had the power to enforce the
Karmapa’s ritual. But even in Tingchim, the practice is far from having
reached the proportions it had before the Karmapa’s intervention when,
it is said, up to 60 oxen10 were sacrificed each year. Today, oxen and
cows are no longer sacrificed and only a very small number of goats
and chickens, and in some rare cases pigs, are offered over the period
of a year.11 Villagers will also try to reduce this number by offering an
ox leg, a rib or pieces of meat obtained from the butcher in the bon
rituals held in honour of the most dangerous nöpa in the village before
succumbing to their wishes for an animal offering.12 The reason given
for ‘slipping back’ into performing red offerings was that some of the
nöpa currently causing problems had been omitted from the original
list submitted to the 16th Karmapa in 1962. Thus, the Karmapa, who
commands enormous influence and respect in the region, was in no
way blamed for this failure. Nor were the ritual powers of the lama
head-teacher or the superiority of Buddhism questioned. In the eyes
of the helpless villagers, the omission simply gave them the license to
deal with the illness in their own way and resort to animal sacrifice
when a relative was dangerously ill.
The practice of keeping a zung (gzung) is perhaps a form of delayed
or potential sacrifice. A zung is an animal, usually a pig or a chicken,13
which has been dedicated to a nöpa or an ajo. It is ritually assigned by
the bongthing and belongs to the particular being until the time comes
when it will be killed and ritually offered to its owner by the bongthing,
who will then make a younger animal into the new zung. Although com-
mon throughout Sikkim, the practice varies from region to region and

10
Yaks were sacrificed instead of oxen when they still resided in the higher altitudes
of the Ha Valley.
11
The only other example I have come across of a community resuming its sacrificial
rituals after they were momentarily abandoned under the influence of Buddhism is
the village of Te in southern Mustang (Ramble 1990: 189).
12
Some of the most feared nöpa responsible for most cases of illness in Tingchim are
Chong Gyepo, who will require the offering of a front leg of an ox and, if not satisfied,
will demand the sacrifice of a goat. Another is a particular dü who will require first an
ox rib and then the offering of a black goat. A third is a Lepcha spirit from the nearby
town of Chungthang who will first require some half-cooked meat and then the sacrifice
of a pig. And Latsen Bagchia will eventually require the sacrifice of a chicken.
13
Oxen were still recently being used as zung in Tingchim. Yaks and horses might
also have been used in the past.
 village religion: ritual of illness 135

village to village; a zung will be kept for different nöpa and ajo and killed
at different times for different reasons, usually as part of a curing ritual
when demanded by its supernatural owner or when the animal reaches
a certain age. Nevertheless, a very common zung in most Lhopo houses
in Sikkim is a pig kept for Ajo Dongbong, the legendary and trouble-
some Lepcha ancestor.14 Following the 16th Karmapa’s intervention
in the matter of animal sacrifice, a few people in Tingchim refrained
from keeping a zung for Ajo Dongbong but many still do and rely on
the butcher for the killing of the animal. They sell the live pig and ask
for small pieces from the entrails that the bongthing then ritually offers.15
A similar practice seems to exist in Western Bhutan where a cow or a
bull is ritually assigned to the guardian deity of the territory (Tandin
Dorji 2002). While animals are usually assigned and eventually killed
and ritually offered to troublesome supernatural beings in Tingchim,
the Sherpas dedicate yaks to their ancestral deities and to Khumbu
Yullha, the mountain deity of their region (Fürer-Haimendorf 1964:
208–10). The practice of dedicating yaks that are let free has also been
observed by Ekvall (1968: 29–20) in Amdo where the nomads dedicate
them to the yak god.
Returning to the sequence of cure, if the family of the patient is
now left with no other option but the offering of an animal’s life, they
will return to the bongthing who, in this instance, will officiate together

14
In the first stage of an illness caused by Ajo Dongbong, one kilo of boiled pork
will be offered to him on a plate of rice along with chang, and a pig zung will be
assigned to him if, for whatever reason, none was already kept by the family. If the
illness persists, the bongthing might recommend that the pig zung be killed and parts of
the entrails offered, with torma representing Ajo Dongbong and his entourage, and a
new zung be simultaneously assigned. If no one is sick, the pig will be killed and offered
to Ajo Dongbong whenever it has reached maturity or meat is required for a special
occasion. The animal is then replaced with a young zung.
15
There are four additional troublesome nöpa in Tingchim for which chicken or pig
zung are kept and ritually offered when necessary. A pig zung is assigned and offered
to Ajo Goka and his wife Lenji Anyo when he causes fever, headache, cough, itching,
swelling, bone pain or madness. Following the Karmapa’s intervention, some houses
have replaced the pig with a chicken as if the severity of the sin was proportionally
reduced by the size of the animal. A hen zung is assigned and offered to Tingbung
Anyo Pende, the owner of poison, when someone is suffering from heart pain, stomach
pain or is thought to have been the victim of deliberate poisoning. A cock or a hen
zung is kept and offered to Latsen Bagchia when he causes general body pain, fever
and madness with extreme thirst. Only Jowo Dzom Tshering ( Jo bo ’dzom tshe ring),
the tsen protector of the lake and one of the village’s gatekeepers is assigned a white
chicken zung which is never ritually killed even though he may be held responsible for
eye, ear, teeth and nose diseases. A chicken zung, dedicated in the course of the pawo’s
annual retreat, is set free to roam without ever being killed.
136 chapter four

with the pawo. The pawo will make a fresh diagnosis through possession
and the bongthing will take care of the sacrificial offering. The actual
killing is done outside the house by a man of the family. In the case of
a large animal, the blood is poured into a pot and offered to the nöpa
by the bongthing as he throws ladles of blood around while chanting the
khelen. The animal is butchered and pieces of meat, including the head,
a front and a hind leg along with parts of the entrails are taken inside
and offered on a plate along with torma representing the nöpa and his
entourage to whom the offering is made. The torma are generally made
of rice, but since the offering will most probably be for a dü or other
nöpa with malevolent tendencies, the torma will be made of black millet.
If a chicken is being offered to an ajo anyo or a latsen, it will be displayed
and offered on a banana leaf (labyong) and the nöpa will be represented
not by torma but by small bamboo pots filled with millet chang.
The offering of an animal life is considered to be the most effective
healing method. I often heard that a dangerously ill and helpless patient
finally recovered after a sacrifice, and even that a certain person would
still be alive if there hadn’t been a ban on blood offerings at the time of
his or her illness. On the other hand, it is also thought that during the
decade when animal sacrifice was outlawed, life was peaceful, nöpa were
less ravaging and there were far fewer serious cases of illness around,
as if the civilising effect of Buddhism had extended itself to the dark-
est aspects of village life. Such conflicting viewpoints, one defending
bon and the other Buddhism, held simultaneously by the same people,
is common and not a problem in Tingchim. Villagers acknowledge
the superiority of Buddhism and in theory, aspire to a purer form of
Buddhism to be practised in the village and to a time when bon ritual
specialists would no longer be needed to pacify threatening nöpa. As
Mumford had observed in a similar situation in Gyasumdo, “[p]rior
relationships pull the self from the past; anticipatory ideals pull towards
a future realization” (1989: 138). However, it is thought that such an
ideal time has not yet arrived, that the nöpa are still more powerful than
their village lamas and meanwhile, powerless villagers are left with no
other option but to seek the help of the pawo and the bongthing who,
instead of attempting to subdue the troubling nöpa, succumb to their
wishes and spoil them with their favourite offerings. And in some cases,
a capricious nöpa may not let go of his victim until he is presented with
an acceptable substitute in the form of the life of an animal. When
animal sacrifice is eventually performed, the village lamas will simply
look the other way. The most the lama head-teacher can do under such
 village religion: ritual of illness 137

circumstances is at least not to perform animal sacrifice within his own

household along with the few other households in Tingchim who swore
the binding oath never to perform red offerings again.
We have seen how Sagant has suggested how the body, the gods
and society are interrelated in the cycle of illness, its diagnosis and
the relief generated by the identification of a wrongdoing and how in
Tingchim, the landscape could be added as an additional key element
to this cycle. When the illness is serious, the level of anxiety, collabo-
ration and discussion among kin and neighbours keeps on rising and
only finds relief the moment the correct cause is put forward, a diag-
nosis that would coincide with the patient’s improvement or recovery.
When a lama is consulted, his vague diagnosis deprives them of this
process and eventual sense of relief. This couldn’t have been better
illustrated than when Atso, the Tingchim bongthing, himself became
partly paralysed while performing a curing ritual for someone else and
consulted a village lama after the pawo had failed to cure him. Although
the lama’s recommended rituals were performed—gye dö, tsen dö and
the reading of a Sūtra text—the bongthing remained dissatisfied as the
lama had not been able to tell him exactly which gyepo and tsen were
causing the illness and why. The lama sent him to see a Rinpoche in
Gangtok who didn’t address what the bongthing was really looking for;
he instead sent him to the doctor and prescribed that a village lama
should recite one hundred thousand mantras for the benefit of the
patient. Still looking for a cause that would bring him some relief, the
bongthing returned to the pawo the next day, and eventually pinpointed
the exact misdemeanour—in this case the burning of a goat’s hair
on an outside fire—that had displeased a local nöpa and contributed
to reactivating an old curse sent years ago by a rival of his father, a
nagshang or powerful tantrist of Ronggong village. A torgyap ( gtor rgyab)16
ritual was performed by the Sesungpa, improvement was immediate,
and the bongthing was again able to walk. By no means are all cures
this successful and straightforward, but this case illustrates why villagers

16
Although the nagshang no longer exist today, they are remembered for their parting
curses which villagers are still countering today. The nagshang’s main craft was that of
the torgyap, a kind of exorcistic ritual which under normal Buddhist circumstances is
used by the lamas in order to invoke the powers of a high Buddhist deity and unleash
them against the enemies of the Dharma. But in this case, the same torgyap ritual was
used by a nagshang in order to send a worldly supernatural being to harm or even kill
the present Tingchim bongthing’s father. A new torgyap was performed in order to counter
the effects of the original one.
138 chapter four

Plate 8: Bongthing Atso offering the head and hind leg of an ox (mgo sha lnga)
to his pho lha mo lha to thank them for their help following his recovery

would perhaps hesitate to return to the lama for additional divinations,

and even to the performance of the 16th Karmapa’s substitute ritual
when the patient is nearing his death. By this time, the patient and his
relatives would be so anxious for the right cause to be uncovered and
the right ritual to be performed that the dilemma presented by the red
offering may no longer appear so critical.
Meanwhile, if the patient still fails to recover after the red offering has
been performed, the family will again look for ritual specialists beyond
the village who might specialise in the patient’s particular affliction. The
help of medical doctors would usually have been ruled out by now
as they would either have managed to cure the patient, if there was
no question of unaffordable medicine or operation, or it might have
been established that the disease was medically incurable. When it is
established that the patient will probably die, he will be brought to a
Rinpoche in order to receive the sem powa (sems ’pho ba) so as to prepare
him for death and instruct him how to find his way on the other side.
If a patient oscillates between life and death for too long, villagers will
bring him to a Rinpoche so as to receive the Amitābha initiation which
should, one way or the other, take care of the situation.
 village religion: ritual of illness 139

When terminally ill or simply advanced in age, villagers will sit all
day on the house’s balcony until the end. They can remain there for
months or even years, first sitting and later lying on a bed. They like
the fresh air but above all, they want to see and want to be seen, and
not be forgotten. Every passer-by exchanges some words or stops to
chat for a while. Their deterioration and suffering is a public affair
and everyone participates in the process of death and decay. This was
particularly evident one day as Lopen Dugyal and I passed by a house
where an 85 year old woman was sitting in despair making holes in her
swollen feet with a pointed twig to let the water run out. She passed
away soon after. Not all cases are as sudden or dramatic. One of my
favourite informants, Metok Tang Ajo, although strong, healthy and
the richest man in the village, was over 80 years old and always there
on his balcony, in good humour and ready for an interview during
the whole period of my fieldwork. But I found his seat empty one day
as I returned from a break in town. He had kept up with everything
happening in the extended family and the village during the last years
of his life simply by remaining at his seat on the balcony.

Plate 9: Metok Tang Ajo, one of my favourite informants

140 chapter four

2.2. Levels of ritual co-operation

Until now, I have made a somewhat artificial distinction between bon
and Buddhism as a reminder that, in theory, we are dealing with two
distinct traditions even though they have come close to form a single
ritual complex within the village. This distinction was also made in
order to emphasise that, by comparison with other Tibetan-speaking
areas, aspects of bon have been relatively well maintained in Tingchim.
In reality, much of village religion consists of rituals that are the result
of a creative interaction between bon and Buddhism in response to vil-
lagers’ needs. Although we can identify degrees of purity, no rituals are
entirely Buddhist or entirely bon if only because all bon ritual specialists
consider themselves fundamentally Buddhist and perhaps all Buddhist
rituals have some roots in various historical layers of shamanism.
Nevertheless, it might be useful to identify the categories of rituals in
Tingchim that are regarded as Buddhist; considered to belong to bon;
or have evolved out of the interaction between these.
1. Community rituals in honour of the supra-worldly deities of Bud-
dhism are held at the village’s prayer hall either during the important
days of the Buddhist calendar (see chapter 11) or when the nyungne
am group of praying women gather there on three different days in
the course of a month for their common practice of Chenresig, the
Bodhisattva of Compassion. Elaborate household Buddhist rituals will
be held during the winter when some may wish to sponsor a general
offering ritual where other villagers will be invited to attend. On all
these occasions, the main purpose of honouring the tantric deities
and performing their corresponding rituals and practices is for the
accumulation of merit in order to increase one’s chances for a bet-
ter rebirth. However, they may be invoked for more specific purposes
during household rituals such weddings, funerals or when a new house
has been completed. On the whole, the tantric deities and their rituals
reflect the villagers’ supra-worldly concerns and aspirations, although
they may be invoked by the village lamas when asked to divine and
perform Buddhist curing rituals. The gomchen who may spend years in
retreat above the village in his quest for enlightenment and the acquisi-
tion of tantric powers will invoke them in the course of his practice.
When the village lama joins him in meditation, the retreat will usually
be limited to a few weeks or months with the purpose of gaining powers
through certain practices centred on specific tantric deities. The most
 village religion: ritual of illness 141

common power sought is that of the healing mantra that will then be
used when attending to patients.
2. The Buddhist rituals held either at the village’s prayer hall or in
private houses. Aspects of bon have been integrated in an acceptable
way by village Buddhist standards, but they may still be offensive to
non-Sikkimese lamas. The most important ritual in this category is the
village lamas’ performance of the Nesol in private houses, where meat is
offered on the altar and all the local deities of Sikkim, from the highest
to the lowest, are invoked. While the ritual itself is read from a written
text, the offering to all the deities of the land is made by chanting the
local version of the oral khelen, which will also include reference to the
most dangerous and feared nöpa surrounding the village.
3. Rituals where direct collaboration between the village lamas and
the bongthing and/or the pawo takes place. In this case, bon and Bud-
dhist ritual specialists either perform their own ritual simultaneously
in order to combine their efforts towards a common ritual goal, or all
may combine their efforts in a single ritual where they officiate together.
The latter is very rare and only one ritual of this kind, which will be
discussed in chapter 9, took place while I was in Tingchim. In this
unusual performance, the pawo, the bongthing and two lamas collaborated
in the performance of a single ritual so as to free the consciousness of
an ancestor that had been captured by a local dü.
4. The lhachö rituals of bon performed in order to propitiate and
obtain the blessings and protection of the pho lha mo lha and that are
not offensive to the village lamas. These include the biatsi natsi harvest
offerings, the pawo’s annual retreat or tsamche, and all the other rituals
for the ancestral gods. We have seen that the powers of the pho lha mo
lha are invoked by villagers in order to obtain abundant harvests and
male descendants, good health and protection against enemies and
other evils of this world. All bon rituals where white torma are offered
on a wooden plateau come under this category.
5. The drechö (’dre mchod) rituals of bon are theoretically unacceptable
to all lamas although most village lamas will simply look the other way
when they are performed by the bon specialists, while a few lamas may
even take part in this form of ritual. These are the rituals where the
nöpa are directly indulged without any attempt at reminding them of
their submission vows or returning them on the right path of Buddhism,
where death is averted by animal sacrifice, where powers are sought
and used for destructive aims and quarrels are resolved by the sending
142 chapter four

of deadly curses. All regular and curing rituals where black millet torma
are offered to the nöpa, or labyong offerings are presented on a banana
leaf to the ajo anyo or the latsen, come under this category. Some ritual
specialists are said to cultivate close relationships with powerful nöpa so
as to increase their magical powers in order to help them send curses,
or for controlling hail storms that can be used to protect crops but also
to destroy the harvest of enemies. From these nöpa, they also seek the
power to divine and deal with the less powerful nöpa causing illness in
the village.
The Buddhist deities, the pho lha mo lha and the nöpa, in theory,
are respectively the domain of the lamas, the pawo and the bongthing,
although in reality these distinctions are far from being clear. Although
the pawo, the bongthing and the lama will each have their own altar and
responsibilities when performing regular rituals, the meeting ground for
all remains the curing of illness. Any aspect of bon or Buddhism may be
invoked in the process of village ritual life, usually independently, but
sometimes through rituals that require various levels of collaboration.
The boundary between each tradition has in some cases become so
undefined that one ritual specialist may perform or at least prescribe
the rituals of another or invoke the gods of a third in order to achieve
his ritual goal.
Because of his conventional Buddhist education, Lopen Dugyal
considered many of the above rituals and collaborations between vil-
lage lamas and bon ritual specialists to be a compromise of sorts on
the part of his fellow village lamas, something which he attributed
to their lack of understanding of the Buddhist scriptures. However,
Lopen Dugyal could also sympathise with the lamas’ and the villagers’
need and dilemma when confronted with an actual crisis that called
for ‘unorthodox’ ritual practices. Lopen Dugyal was only dogmatic in
theory and would often approach village religion in a reflexive way,
offering reasons why certain joint or bon rituals were needed and justi-
fied from the villagers’ point of view. Later on, when I came across
more examples, it appeared to me that this reflexive capacity was in
a way very Sikkimese and contrasted sharply with the more dogmatic
viewpoint of the learned Tibetan lamas residing in the state who would
judge Sikkimese village religion as heretical. Lopen Dugyal could
somehow see both viewpoints and would often oscillate from one to
the other since they each corresponded to a well defined period of his
life. One day, he would go out of his way to condemn village religion
and give me Dharma lessons, and the next, he would be fascinated by
 village religion: ritual of illness 143

bon’s own inner logic and offer illuminating insights and explanations
based on his earlier experiences as a village lama, gained prior to his
conventional Buddhist education.

This chapter has introduced the subject of illness and its central impor-
tance to ritual in Tingchim. Illness and the search for its causes illustrate
the extent to which the body, the physical and social environments, and
the supernatural are interrelated. Socially condemned actions create
pollution that offends the local nöpa and ancestral gods who inhabit
the local territory and, in some cases, the body of the person. The
presence of drib incites the nöpa to seek revenge and for the pho lha mo
lha to withdraw their protection. The pawo and the bongthing are the
specialists most capable of interpreting these shamanic relations, and
most importantly, uncovering the action or the curse thought to be
at the root of the illness, while the lama’s diagnosis usually remains
inconclusive. The lamas are nevertheless consulted in case of illness
since their rituals are thought to be very beneficial in an indirect way,
by creating merit for the patient and by providing offering rituals to the
troubling nöpa that are thought to flatter them, since these rituals are
more prestigious and more expensive than those held by the pawo or
the bongthing. In an effort to raise their popularity in dealing with illness
and to compete better with the shamans, it is said that some village
lamas who are thought not to be sufficiently competent to subdue the
local degye have come to a compromise: they perform their rituals with
the sole purpose of spoiling the responsible degye with ceremonies that
are disproportionately elaborate for their lowly rank so that they might
leave the patient in peace.
The superiority of the shamans in the domain of illness, and the
lamas’ effort to compete with them on the same shamanic level, along
with the persistence of animal sacrifice in extreme cases of illness, are all
important examples illustrating the survival of the shamanic worldview
in Tingchim. There will be more examples as we go along, all pointing
out that from the villagers’ point of view, there are not always sharp
distinctions between the rituals of bon and those of village Buddhism,
just as there are no sharp distinctions between their physical, social
and supernatural worlds.
Tingchim’s worldview, which is better addressed by the shamans in
matter of illness, places the village lamas in a secondary position on
a subject of great importance to villagers. The fact that village lamas
share the same shamanic worldview as the shamans contributes to the
144 chapter four

fact that they won’t try to change the balance of power in an aggressive
way or eliminate the shamans’ practice. Their Buddhist rituals are not
specifically meant for the purpose of pacifying troublesome entities
in a way that would be satisfying to villagers. Even village lamas will
rely on the shamans’ skills when need arises. They see their practices
as complementing each other rather than being in competition, and
thus will not attempt to eliminate the practice of bon as conventional
Buddhist-minded lamas would encourage them to do.
When any bon or Buddhist ritual is performed in the village, the ritual
is likely to be, one way or the other, performed either for the preven-
tion or the curing of illness. Preventive rituals held in advance may be
performed on a regular basis in order to reduce the consequences of,
for example, eating wild animals or harvesting cardamoms—both activi-
ties that entail appropriating the property of the rightful spirit-owner.
Some preventive rituals are held on a regular basis, not only in order
to reduce the consequences of such inevitable wrongdoing, but simply
because not performing them would constitute an offence in itself to
tradition or lugsö (lugs srol). During such rituals, the beneficial qualities
and blessings of either the nöpa or the pho lha mo lha are invoked while
offerings are being made, so that these beneficial powers may be used
in future moments of need. The corresponding preventive Buddhist
rituals would be those held on a regular basis for the purpose of merit
accumulation. On the other hand, curing rituals are, of course, per-
formed when the need arises.
For these reasons—following a general chapter on the shamans—each
of the following three Parts, exploring Tingchim villagers’ relations with
(1) the sacred land and its resources, (2) the individual and household
members, and (3) the lineage, the village and the state, are divided in
two chapters, the first looking at the regular preventive rituals of bon
and Buddhism, and the second at their extraordinary curing rituals.
 CHAPTER FIVE

THE SHAMANS

The Sikkimese shamans are the ritual specialists in charge of keep-

ing good relations with the households’ and the lineages’ ancestral
gods. Until the end of the nineteenth century, each patrilineage had
its personal pawo or nejum responsible for his or her lineage’s and its
households’ ritual needs. In addition to each household’s biannual
harvest offerings, which are still performed today, all members of the
lineage used to gather once a year in their respective shamans’ houses
for a four-day retreat which was a celebration of their common ances-
tors and lineage protectors. In case of illness, the troubling spirits were
invited to express their grievances while possessing the pawo, after which
apologies and offerings were made in order to appease them. In those
early days, we have seen that the bon ritual specialists in Sikkim were
numerous and powerful and Buddhism was still confined to the mon-
asteries, their surrounding villages, the capital and the Palace. Follow-
ing the growth of Buddhism and the general decline of the lineage’s
importance, it is now very rare to find more than one pawo or nejum,
if any, per cluster of villages. After much questioning, in addition to
those found in Tingchim, I have only come across a handful of pawo
and nejum in Sikkim.1
Although Buddhism has now taken over much of everyone’s ritual
needs, it is evident that where their own shamans are no longer avail-
able, Lhopo villagers have instead been consulting those of other ethnic
communities, particularly Tibetan, Lepcha, Limbu, Tamang and Rai,
who perhaps still find it rewarding to exercise their ritual skills.

1
In West Sikkim, the son of late Chongpung Ajo Pawo—despite his job in the
police—still officiates three times a year on the occasion of his annual retreat held dur-
ing the first lunar month, on the occasion of natsi for his pho lha mo lha during the 3rd
lunar month and biatsi for his mo lha during the 7th lunar month. In North Sikkim, there
is a young pawo at Lachung—two or three pawo passed away in the Lachen-Lachung
area in the late 1990s and early 2000s—a Lepcha nejum at Singhik and another one a
Tingvong, a nejum at Seyam and a pawo at Namok. There is one pawo at Bara Pathing
in East Sikkim, although there may be more pawo and nejum in the villages of South
and East Sikkim, areas I am less familiar with.
146 chapter five

Today, the Tingchim pawo and nejum still perform the biannual
harvest rituals for every household with the help of the bongthing, but
will do so irrespective of lineage affiliation. These bon ritual special-
ists are now mainly consulted for ritual healing, the only service over
which they have maintained their monopoly although they do share
it, up to a certain point as we have seen, with the village lamas. While
healing is the service for which they are now most often consulted, for
the pawo and the nejum the most significant rituals remain their own
initiation and annual retreat in honour of their ancestral gods, even
though these are now very rarely performed. During fieldwork, I had
the chance to attend Tingchim Pawo Nadu’s one-day ritual held in
honour of his mo lha on the occasion of the biatsi rice harvest offering,
and the last annual retreat performed by Pawo Nadu in honour of all
his pho lha mo lha before he passed away in 1997. The details of this
four-day ritual are summarised in chapter 11 along with a discussion
about an interesting debate that unfolded during the retreat between,
on the one hand, the spirits of previous Tingchim shamans expressing
themselves through the medium of the present pawo and, on the other
hand, my teacher Lopen Dugyal who had just returned to the village
after nine years of higher Buddhist studies. The debate, which was the
only one to capture the interest of the whole audience, focused on the
merit of bon over the failings of Buddhism in dealing with the nöpa and,
surprisingly, ended with a temporary victory of the bon ritual specialists.
The debate exposed the extent to which village level Buddhism and
bon are well integrated locally and the threat a renewal of conventional
Buddhist thought represents for the lineage, the community and the
practice of bon in the village.
This chapter will first describe the selection and qualifications of a
new pawo, his training and initiation and the minimal influence Bud-
dhism has had over his practice. I will then discuss the question of
communication with ancestors and compare shamanism as found in
Tingchim with that of Mongolia and Siberia in an attempt to relate
Sikkimese shamanism to North Asia.

1. Who gets initiated as a PAWO or a NEJUM

In most cases, a pawo is born within a descent line of pawo so that his
father or grandfather or if not, an earlier male ancestor of the same
patrilineage, will also have been a pawo. Nejum by contrast tend to
 the shamans 147

reappear in the matriline among female descendants related through

women, regardless of patrilineal affiliation. Two additional conditions
need to be fulfilled in order to install a new pawo2 once the latter has
been chosen by the deities and has displayed the ability of medium-
ship. First, he must become the spiritual descendant and recipient of
the powers and qualities of a deceased pawo who will be referred to
as his kabab (bka’ babs)3 or spiritual ascendant and to whom he may or
may not be related. And second, he must be trained by a pawo-teacher
who will officiate at his initiation ritual where the new pawo will be
tested. A pawo’s power and knowledge are regarded as being passed
down a spiritual descent line by magical transfer after his death. The
transfer is carried out by the deceased pawo’s tutelary deity under the
order of the ancestral gods. By becoming the spiritual descendant of
a deceased pawo, the new shaman also inherits his spiritual ascendant’s
tutelary deity who will assist him in his future functions. The spiritual
ascendant or kabab is identified when a new pawo is possessed, before
his initiation ritual, by the spirit of a deceased pawo, who reveals his
identity by speaking through the new medium and asks for his personal
ritual instruments. When this happens, the family or teacher of the new
pawo has to locate and obtain the kabab’s personal headdress, drum and
bell that will become the ritual instruments of the new shaman. These
instruments are always carefully kept by a pawo’s family after he passes
away, awaiting the day that his spirit will manifest itself by possessing a
new pawo. As we will see below, the pawo’s headdress, a woollen crown
called bätö (bal thod), embodies the power, knowledge and qualities of
the previous pawo and of his tutelary deity. And once a new shaman has
been officially installed as the village’s new pawo, his kabab along with
his tutelary deity will regularly take possession of the new pawo while
he wears the bätö; the kabab usually ends any séances by confirming or
expanding on the subject for which the shaman had been consulted.

2
Any reference to the pawo also applies to the nejum unless otherwise specified.
3
In this context, bka’ means ‘speech’ or ‘order’ and babs means ‘to come down on’.
The term bka’ babs has been defined in different ways in the literature. Das (1881: 11)
refers to it as the tutelary deity possessing the Bon priest. This notion is very similar to
the one found in Tingchim where the bka’ babs is thought to work in close association
with the pawo’s tutelary deity and can easily be confused with the latter. Lopen Tenzin
Namdak, as quoted in Bellezza (2005: 353), refers to the term bka’ babs as the revelations
and prophecies made by the deities in the course of spirit-mediumship. This again
has some relation to Tingchim’s definition where the bka’ babs’ utterances—in this case
made by the pawo’s predecessor—are considered the most authoritative.
148 chapter five

A pawo can either become the spiritual descendant of the previous

pawo of his own biological descent line, or of an unrelated pawo with
whom he might otherwise have been connected. For example, the
Seyam nejum, a few kilometres south of Tingchim, belongs to a biologi-
cal descent line of nejum but has become the spiritual descendant of an
unrelated nejum who used to practise in the same village and with whom
she shares the same tutelary deity. Likewise, the Tingchim nejum is the
spiritual descendant of a nejum she never met, originally from Tingchim
but who married and practised in a village in East Sikkim.

Plate 10: The Seyam nejum in trance, performing a curing ritual in her house.
She is wearing a brilliant red and white dress with a yellow jacket. Her head-
dress is made of white, red and yellow wool
 the shamans 149

It is also common for a new pawo to become the spiritual descendant

of the previous pawo of his own patrilineage, which is the case of
the present Tingchim pawo. His father, Malag Ajo Pawo, is the kabab
of the present shaman, who in turn had his own grandfather as his
kabab or spiritual ascendant. In such cases, where the biological and
spiritual lineages coincide, the son only inherits his father’s power and
knowledge some time after the latter’s death.4 The new shaman may
suffer uncontrolled possession before that, but will not be fully receptive
to training nor will he be able to perform adequately as a pawo until
his father becomes his kabab. In addition to having a kabab, he will
require further training in order to complement the knowledge that he
has magically inherited or that may be transmitted directly from the
supernatural during séances of possession. This will usually be imparted
to him by a pawo-teacher from a neighbouring village.
As far as I am aware, the existence of spiritual lineages of pawo,
independent of the biological descent line has not been recorded among
other Tibetan-speaking populations. Berglie only mentions that pawo
belonging to the same lineage will share the same guardian deity (1983:
164). By lineage, Berglie means the biological descent line of pawo or the
line of mediums found within a single family. The existence of spiritual
lineages of pawo in Sikkim is reminiscent of the Tibetan system of tulku
or series of reincarnate lamas. The similarity between possession and
the system of tulku has been pointed out by Aziz (1976):
incarnate lamas are frequently ‘emanations’ of bodhisattva . . . and Barbara
Aziz suggests they can be regarded as having been in a sense permanently
possessed by those bodhisattva (Samuel 1993: 195).
However, the major distinction between the two types of lineages is that
a new incarnate lama may be considered to be both the emanation of
a tantric deity and also the same person as his previous incarnation,
who has simply taken rebirth in a new body and is usually identi-
fied as such at a very young age. In the case of the Sikkimese pawo,
although the power and knowledge of the kabab or previous pawo are
only transmitted to the new pawo after the former’s death, and one
could say that the new pawo now ‘emanates’ his predecessor’s qualities,
he is not considered the same person and may have been born long

4
Similarly, one of the gter bdag from sKur stod interviewed by Pommaret only
displayed the symptoms of mediumship after his gter bdag-uncle had passed away
(1998).
150 chapter five

before his kabab passed away. And secondly, he will only emanate the
qualities of his kabab as well as of his tutelary deity while in a state of
possession, while the lama permanently emanates the qualities of his
previous form/emanation.
The system of recognising rebirths among lamas was developed in
the twelfth or thirteenth century by the Karma Kagyud lineage. It was
adopted by other schools in the fourteenth and fifteenth century but
only became widespread in the nineteenth (Samuel 1993: 494–95).
Considering that there is every reason to believe that pawo were active
in Tibet before the twelfth century, it is possible that the system of tulku
may have been inspired by a spiritual descent system already existing
among pawo or similar shamans.5 Further, it is interesting to note the
similarity between the fact that a kabab, or previous pawo, would demand
his ritual instruments, and the custom of using the ritual objects of a
deceased lama when testing the authenticity of his new incarnation.
Indeed, a potential tulku is usually asked to select objects out of an
assortment of similar rosaries, bells and small drums of which only
some would have belonged to his predecessor.
Returning to the selection of pawo in Tingchim, a potential shaman
first gets his call by going through repeated fits of uncontrolled posses-
sion. He will have visions and the local supernatural beings will appear
to him. He will follow them into the jungle, ‘see’ their abode and ‘walk’
through their environment. When this happens, he will disappear into
the jungle and return after a few hours, sometimes after a few days or
even a week without any recollection of what really happened. When
he finally regains consciousness, he will not feel hungry nor will he have
suffered any injuries or have been the victim of wild animals who are
thought to be under the control of the same supernatural beings. The
pawo studied by Berglie all had similar experiences of divine election
(1983: 160). This condition can go on for years, either because he keeps
it hidden while hoping that it will vanish or because it is discouraged
by the family. Being a shaman is no longer an enviable position. The
trances are painful, some nöpa can be cruel, and today the practice is
increasingly being discouraged because it is seen as a lower form of
ritual in comparison to Buddhism, which has considerably strengthened

5
The shaman of the Daur Mongol discussed later in this chapter offers a similar
example whereby the onggor, which must enter the new shaman, is considered the
soul-spoor of previous and now dead shamans. Further enquiry along these lines may
eventually help shed light on the question of origin of the tulku.
 the shamans 151

its influence in Sikkim in recent decades. The pawo’s social position

was gradually lowered as Buddhist thought gained popularity and his
clientèle, along with his income, has since considerably dwindled. Only
the meaning of the word pawo, which can be translated as ‘hero’, and
the bon paradise which awaits him after his death, are left as testimo-
nies of the pawo’s former glory. Most families today will prevent their
children from becoming shamans by consulting large numbers of ritual
specialists and sponsoring rituals so that their children may be left in
peace by the supernatural beings who are demanding them to act as
their mouthpiece. But the ancestral gods and the local supernatural
beings are dependent on these shamans and going against their wishes
may also have negative consequences, which some are not prepared to
risk, with the result that a few will still eventually resign themselves to
the role for which they have been chosen.

Plate 11: The Tingchim nejum

152 chapter five

This was the case of the present Tingchim nejum who was initiated as
a nejum in her forties, a few years after her husband, Malag Ajo Pawo,
had passed away. She complains about her nejum duties to which she
has resigned herself, praying to be spared such an incarnation in her
next life. Her husband had been the village’s pawo until his death in
1961 and their son, the present pawo, had not yet taken over from his
father when the future nejum’s sister died in 1965. By then Tingchim
had been without a shaman for a few years and there was no medium
through which the sister’s spirit could communicate with her family.
The sister had died young, leaving a number of small children behind,
and for three years it is said her consciousness roamed, refusing to leave
the house and accept her condition. She caused many problems and
anyone other than members of the family who would enter the house
would fall ill. She wanted to communicate with her relatives and this
is how her sister, the present nejum received her call, followed by visions
of supernatural beings whom she followed into the jungle. The sister’s
consciousness was eventually freed by the 16th Karmapa but the nejum
continued to serve the village for over thirty years.
Pawo Nadu got his first attack of uncontrolled possession soon after
the death of his father, Malag Ajo Pawo, but hid his condition until
his mother had also become a shaman. Whenever he became troubled
by supernatural beings, he would take to the jungle, sometimes for up
to a whole week at a time without food. Five years after the mother
had begun her training with Detong Pawo from a neighbouring vil-
lage, the son started shaking heavily during her annual retreat held in
Tingchim, picking up his father’s drum and bell for the first time. The
manifestation of Yeshe Gonpo6 possessing him declared that he had
to become a pawo and that Ajo Bongthing, who had been officiating at
the nejum’s retreat, was to perform the initiation ritual. This was done
immediately. Following this, Ajo Bongthing became the teacher of the
new pawo and nejum, taking over from Detong Pawo with whom he
had recently fallen out. Although Ajo Bongthing was not a pawo and
thus had never acted as a shaman, he had been Malag Ajo Pawo’s best
friend and for this reason was well versed in all aspects of the pho lha
mo lha rituals that did not involve possession. In theory, the pawo/nejum’s

6
We have seen in chapter 3 that in the context of the ancestral gods, Yeshe Gonpo
or ‘Mahākāla’ is actually a territorial god from the valley of Ha and the supreme deity
of the bon ritual specialists as well as the head of the pho lha mo lha. He is the Tingchim
pawo’s tutelary deity inherited from his lineage of pawo.
 the shamans 153

and the bongthing’s ritual fields are clearly distinct, but in reality there
is a great deal of overlapping. We have seen that the pawo/nejum are
considered the specialists responsible for the lhachö offering ritual for
the ancestral gods; by contrast the bongthing, who never gets possessed,
is the specialist of drechö rituals aimed at controlling the nöpa, spirits
that are thought to bring illness and misfortune to villagers. In addition
to this, the pawo and the nejum must be trained to act as mediums for
all supernatural beings, whether benevolent or malign. Although Ajo
Bongthing knew the details of the pawo’s offering ritual, he was igno-
rant in the possession aspect of these, and it is said that Yeshe Gonpo
revealed all the necessary secret knowledge to him during the night,
which he then relayed to his students the next day. This unusual ritual
co-operation between a pawo-student and a bongthing-teacher was born
out of the initial friendship between Ajo Bongthing and Malag Ajo Pawo
and extended to the present ritual co-operation between their respective
sons. These were both trained by Ajo Bongthing and will still officiate
together at important ritual offerings, with Bongthing Atso assisting
in the procedure as his father would have done as the pawo’s teacher.
Although I have not come across this degree of ritual co-operation
and overlapping of duties in other villages, a certain ritual flexibility is
common everywhere in Sikkim. I have come across a Lhopo acting as
a Limbu yebā, a Limbu acting as a Lepcha bongthing, a Lepcha acting
as a Lhopo nejum, a Lhopo performing as a Nepalese jhā‘ kri and even a
Lepcha lama renouncing his robe for that of the bongthing. It all depends
on the identity of their friends, neighbours and teachers and is a clear
reflection of the ritual fluidity found among Sikkimese tribals.

2. The initiation ritual

The pawo’s initiation ritual is called Masang shode (Ma sangs sha’u ’das). It
literally means ‘display of meat for Masang’, which is an invitation to
all villagers to come and receive their share of meat from the ox which
will be sacrificed during the ritual and offered to the pho lha mo lha and
local nöpa. The purposes of the ritual are to verify the pawo’s authen-
ticity, to introduce him to the pho lha mo lha and the local supernatural
beings, and to install him as the village’s new shaman.
The Sikkimese pawo are not the mouthpieces of specific deities such
as the prestigious Tibetan oracles who have been integrated within the
monastic establishment and act as the exclusive medium to powerful
154 chapter five

Plate 12: Pawo Nadu and Bongthing Atso officiating together, just as their
respective fathers would have done, on the occasion of a household ritual for
the pho lha mo lha represented on the altar by torma

deities such as Pehar (Prince Peter 1978). Although a pawo has a tute-
lary deity who will assist him in his duties, he is there for all the pho
lha mo lha and supernatural beings of the territory so all may have the
chance to interact with the villagers in order to ask for and obtain the
recognition or the offerings they crave. A genuine pawo is thus chosen
by a consensus of all pho lha mo lha and local supernatural beings of
which Yeshe Gonpo, as the head of the ancestral gods, is the chief.
During the initiation ritual, Yeshe Gonpo must be the first deity to take
possession and introduce himself, which will be interpreted as proof that
all the ancestral gods are in agreement, that the pawo is a genuine one,
and that he has been elected by them to act as their medium. If any
other deity but Yeshe Gonpo first takes possession, the candidate will
not be allowed to proceed as a pawo and the initiation ritual will end
at this point although a second or third initiation may be attempted at
a later stage. In this sense, the testing of a new pawo is not performed
by another pawo as is the case for those studied by Berglie (1976: 90),
nor is the candidate tested by lamas as in the case of Ladakh (Day
1990) and Upper Tibet (Bellezza 2005). The pawo in Sikkim are always
tested by the deities themselves while the pawo-teacher presiding over
 the shamans 155

the initiation is only there to witness the verdict of the ancestral gods.
Once the pawo has been accepted, prayers will be offered to implore the
pho lha mo lha and the tutelary deity to help take control of the pawo’s
wild possessions by regulating the supernatural beings who are throwing
themselves onto him. This will be accomplished through the use of the
pawo’s headwear or bätö, which is itself said to have powers. The new
pawo’s uncontrolled possessions will be tamed through the wearing of
the bätö and no supernatural being will be able to take possession of
him unless he is wearing it. This controlling power embodied in the
headdress7 is attributed to the pawo’s predecessor or kabab and their
common tutelary deity who in the case of the Tingchim pawo, is Yeshe
Gonpo, and in the case of the nejum, is Latsen Bagchia. In this way, the
shaman’s suffering is attenuated and his uncontrolled possessions are
tamed and socially integrated into séances where villagers can receive
advice in moments of crisis. In subsequent sessions, the new pawo will
simply need to recite the bon texts he would soon learn by heart dur-
ing his training in order to invite his kabab and tutelary deity, then put
on the bätö as soon as he feels some possessing deity approaching and
remove it to end the trance session. As he gains experience, the shaman
will eventually be able to take control of trance and spirits in union
with his deities and allow him to perform at will whenever his services
are required by the community.
No pawo or nejum were successfully initiated during my stay in
Tingchim but the ritual, its text and its altar are essentially the same
as those for the pawo’s annual retreat, which is discussed in chapter 11.
The main difference between both rituals, in addition to the testing of
the new shaman, is the sacrifice of an ox during the initiation which is
offered as a feast to all the pho lha mo lha and local supernatural beings,
with the blood specifically for the nöpa and a hind leg for Masang
Khyungdü, before its distribution among villagers.
During fieldwork, the nejum was no longer strong enough to endure
the hardship of possession because of illness and old age and since
1994, an unmarried twenty-five year old niece of hers—her sister’s
daughter—had been going through the initial stages of dissociation. The
parents had been actively trying to ‘cure’ her by consulting a variety
of specialists and the fits did eventually calm down, but they feared

7
Fürer-Haimendorf has also observed that the headdress of the lhawa shaman of
the Sherpas belongs to his tutelary god (1964: 258).
156 chapter five

that she might have been selected to become the village’s future nejum
in order to replace her maternal aunt after the latter’s death. When
both Tingchim Pawo Nadu and his mother the nejum eventually did
pass away in 1997, the nejum’s niece was unsuccessfully initiated by the
Lachung Pawo in February 1998. He said that because her call to be
nejum had been ignored for so long, her initiation would have to be done
twice as it would now be much more difficult to ‘open her mouth’ so
that the deities may be capable of expressing themselves through her.
However, she was still not performing as a nejum in 1999 when I had
the chance to attend her third unsuccessful initiation attempted by the
pawo of Namok. Again Yeshe Gonpo failed to take possession of her
as head of all the pho lha mo lha, and instead, she kept repeating in
trance that she wasn’t a nejum but a khandro (mkha’ ’gro), a manifestation
of the celestial female deity of Buddhism. In a subsequent discussion
with the pawo of Lachung, he concluded from the deities manifesting
themselves through her that she was of a different tradition and for
this reason, the pawo could not help her any further in becoming a
successful nejum.
It is common for parents of young people who display the symptoms
of mediumship to have difficulties in coming to terms with the future
role of their children. Despite its former glory, the life of a shaman has
always been considered difficult and following the renewed influence of
conventional Buddhism in Sikkim, the position has become even less
enviable, as pawo and nejum have lost not only their former respectable
social position, but many of their sponsors and much of their income
as a result. On the other hand, it is said that if a person has been
chosen by the pho lha mo lha to be their mouthpiece, it is better not to
oppose their wishes as this may cause problems for the potential shaman
for the rest of his or her life. In this context, after an initial period of
opposition where it is hoped that the condition will simply vanish, if
the parents are from a rural area, they may eventually resign themselves
to the future of their son or daughter and go ahead with the initiation
of the new shaman. Once ritually initiated, all symptoms of mental
imbalance are thought to disappear gradually as the shaman gains
experience, and the uncontrolled possessions become regulated thanks
to the help of the tutelary deity through the use of the headdress. On
the other hand, if the family has moved to town, where the influence
of modern education and conventional Buddhism is stronger, or if they
live in a rural area that has been more prone to these influences, the
potential shaman is less likely to be initiated.
 the shamans 157

3. The influence of Buddhism on the shamans’

ritual practice

According to the available literature on spirit-mediums present among

other Tibetan-speaking people, Buddhism has had a considerable
influence on the practice of these ritual specialists. Among these, the
case of Upper Tibet (Bellezza 2005) is particularly striking. Indeed
Bellezza qualifies spirit-mediumship in Upper Tibet largely as a Bud-
dhist affair:
there is no question among Tibetan observers, whatever their religious
persuasion, that the spirit-mediums have been heavily influenced by Bud-
dhist thought and the Buddhist pantheon. Buddhist culture has spread so
deeply that most spirit-mediums perceive themselves as pursuing a tradi-
tion whose roots lie in Buddhism, scarcely recognising the alternative Bon
view of pre-Imperial cultural antecedents. The conceptions held by the
spirit-mediums about the nature of possession, motivation for practicing,
and the perceptions associated with its execution, have transformed the
spirit-mediumship of Upper Tibet into a thoroughly Buddhist affair. It is
envisioned and expressed in Buddhist language and fully exercised under
Buddhist auspices (2005: 13).
Interestingly, the situation in Sikkim is still quite the opposite. As we
have seen, the practice of the pawo is locally perceived as being rooted
in bon. Although there have been attempts to Buddhicise it, this is still
largely understood as a cosmetic veneer. The occasional wearing of the
ri-nga (rigs lnga—the fivefold crown representing the Cosmic Buddhas),
the embodiment of Buddhist deities—referred to as impostors by high
lamas—and the pawo’s conscious distancing of himself from animal
sacrifice, are all attempts to associate himself with a higher Buddhist
form of worship without, however, bringing any fundamental changes
to his practice. These indeed do not prevent him from invoking bon
deities, of embodying and negotiating with ‘demons’, of honouring
ancestors residing in bon paradises, of prescribing animal sacrifices in
extreme cases of illness, and as we will see in chapter 11, even indirectly
challenging the powers of a well educated Buddhist lama.
The Tibetan lhapa’s Buddhacisation is best expressed by the Buddhist
identity of his possessing entities, a tendency which has not entirely
escaped the Sikkimese pawo. As Bellezza points out, instead of invok-
ing the pantheon of spirits bound in the physical environment—as the
Tingchim pawo does—the Tibetan lhapa relies on the yidam or power
givers such as Guru Rinpoche, the chökyong or protectors such as Palden
158 chapter five

Lhamo and Mahākāla, the Buddhicised mountain and lake gods and
goddesses, followed by the numerous spirits found in their respective
retinues. Even though Mahākāla (Yeshe Gonpo) is now the tutelary deity
of the Tingchim pawo, we have seen in chapter 3 that not too long
ago, ‘Mahākāla’ was actually a powerful territorial god from the valley
of Ha. Supporting this is the fact that the main colour of his dress is
brilliant red, which Nebesky-Wojkowitz points out as being the colour
characteristic of the tsen and of the dress of oracle-priests who act as
the mouthpieces of deities belonging to this class (1956: 413).
In her study of village and monastery oracles in Ladakh, Sophie Day
(1990) has shown how the practice and pantheon of the lhapa, have
been largely integrated within the Buddhist system and in the process
have been subordinated to the monastery. For example, the diagnosis of
the new oracle is not only made jointly by a senior oracle and a lama
but must also be ratified by an abbot. Lamas are present and play an
important role in the lhapa’s initiation when the lhapa’s gods are properly
installed and the demons who might be possessing him are expelled.
The lhapa with his gods then finds himself at the lowest echelons of
the religious hierarchy, which he will slowly climb over the years as he
accumulates higher gods, religious knowledge and a better reputation
thanks to the development of a close relation with the monastery. The
highest oracles are those who are directly attached to the monastery;
they are possessed by high-ranking gods and make public appearances
during monastery festivals. The situation among the Sherpas as related
by Sherry Ortner (1995) has been taken one step further, where instead
of assimilating the spirit-mediums as in Ladakh, conventional Buddhism
has effectively eradicated the practice following the establishment of a
number of celibate monasteries in Sherpa country during the twentieth
century. However, the claims that are made for the influence of the
lamas were not always as extreme as in the case of the Ladakhies and
the Sherpas. In his study of Tibetan pawo, originally from different
regions of Tibet performing in Tibetan refugee communities in Nepal
in the early 1970s, Berglie simply mentions that
[t]heoretically the dpa’ bo is independent of the lama’s authority. Never-
theless all the dpa’ bo thought it necessary to have a lama’s blessing for
their work as a dpa’ bo (1976: 93).
In Tingchim, as in Sikkim generally, the lamas are not consulted nor
do they play a role in the identification, initiation, training and perfor-
 the shamans 159

mances of the pawo and the nejum.8 Indeed, Sikkim appears to be a rare
case where the lamas’ and monasteries’ influence on the pawo’s ritual
practice has been minimal. Nebesky-Wojkowitz wrote in 1951 about
the Sikkimese pawo and nejum that
[t]hey preserved many traditions of the ancient, pre-Buddhist Boen faith
of Tibet and their performances have therefore nothing to do with the
ceremonies of the Sikkimese lamas, of whom they are entirely indepen-
dent (1951: 38fn).
The lack of Buddhist influence on the Tingchim pawo’s ritual practice
is reflected in his altar, which does not have a superior shelf for high
Buddhist deities above the torma for the pho lha mo lha and local super-
natural beings. Such altars are usually found among pawo and nejum in
Sikkim who have come under the influence of the lamas. The Tibetan
pawo’s altar described by Berglie (1976: 93–94) did not have a single bon
deity, ancestral god or local supernatural being but instead had repre-
sentations of Buddhist deities and religious figures such as Mahākāla,
Guru Dragpo, Sakya Gongma, Urgyan Rinpoche, the Karmapa and
Palden Lhamo.
Another significant distinction lies in the identity of the supernatu-
ral beings and deities who may take possession of the medium. The
pawo studied by Berglie are possessed by lha, lu and mostly by tsen who
do not have torma dedicated to them but are present during the séance
through their reflection in a mirror9 placed on the altar. Berglie adds
that these pawo are
not completely safe from evil-minded demons who never tire of trying
to sneak into [their] altar-mirrors or even into [their] body in order to
disturb the séance (1976: 91–92)
and the pawo is supposed to ensure that no demon succeeds in sneak-
ing into his mirror or into his body. Fürer-Haimendorf only mentions

8
The late Lachung Pawo is the only exception I came across. He was working for
India’s Intelligence Bureau in Calcutta when he went through his initial fits of mad-
ness. In 1961 he was taken by his Indian superiors to the Dalai Lama, who tested and
initiated him as a pawo. The Dalai Lama told him to abstain from alcohol—he is the
only non-drinking pawo in Sikkim—and return home to practise in his community. He
was later initiated by his pawo-teacher in Lachung and took early retirement from the
civil service. He passed away around 2002.
9
The use of the mirror is absent in Sikkim where instead, the torma on the altar
serve as a support for the possessing entities.
160 chapter five

that dü sometimes take possession of the Sherpa lhawa (1964: 260).

In Ladakh, any demons who might be possessing a new oracle are
exorcised during his initiation so that he may “now be identified with
pure ‘religion’” (1990: 212). In Tingchim, there are no restrictions as
to which nöpa, ancestor or deity may or may not possess the pawo’s
body. Just like the powerful protectors, the most potentially malevolent
entities called dü also get to interact with villagers and express their
grievances and requirements. And instead of using a mirror, all those
beings who are likely to take possession of the pawo or be specifically
invoked during the séance, whatever their tendencies, are represented on
the altar by a torma. Torma are not simply offerings or representations
of the concerned pho lha mo lha or local supernatural beings, but are
‘seats’ which the latter are so invited to take at the ritual in the same
way that the mirror is used to create a support for the lha, tsen and lu
in the case of the pawo studied by Berglie. Openly dealing with nöpa in
Tingchim also means that the pawo and his client must be prepared to
provide them with the offerings they demand and the more offended or
malevolent the supernatural being, the more blood he will crave.
When beginning a ritual, the Sikkimese shamans who have been
somewhat influenced by the lamas, at most will invoke the high Bud-
dhist deities presiding over their ritual referred as lama yidam khandro
(bla ma, yi dam, mkha’ ’gro) before starting a séance. This was the case of
the Seyam nejum who, although Sikkimese, is said to have been trained
according to a Tibetan tradition as well as Chongpung Ajo Pawo who
came under the influence of the Pemayangtse lamas. In Tingchim, at
the most, the pawo will recite Guru Rinpoche’s mantra (Vajra Guru)
before performing any divination as a sign of respect for Guru Rinpoche
who is thought to have tamed the supernatural beings he is now dealing
with. However, he will not recite the Vajra Guru mantra before the
performance of his regular offering rituals.
It is interesting to note that the Tingchim pawo wears two distinctive
headdresses. The first is the bätö, a crown of coloured wool wrapped
around a circle of bamboo which he will wear during most séances. Stein
mentions that the woollen turban is actually a distinctive sign of the
Bonpo (1972: 233). The Yolmo bompo shaman of Helambu in Nepal
seems to wear a similar coloured headdress made of wound, coloured
cotton (Schmid 1967: 84). The second headwear occasionally worn
by the Tingchim pawo is called ri-nga and is the same faceted crown
depicting the five Buddha families which was worn at all times by the
spirit-mediums in Ladakh, in Tibet and among the Sherpas as described
 the shamans 161

by Day (1990), Berglie (1976) and Fürer-Haimendorf (1964). When

wearing the ri-nga, the Tingchim pawo is prohibited from performing
blood sacrifices. It will only be worn by him occasionally—for example,
when holding his annual ritual for his mo lha during the harvest offering
of biatsi—since women cannot be associated with the sacrificial killing
or hunting of animals. The wearing of the ri-nga could be interpreted
as a sign of submission to Buddhism and the lamas but instead it
seems that it was simply added as an additional prestigious artefact to
be worn when it suits him without bringing any fundamental changes
to his beliefs and practice.

4. Interaction with ancestors

The appearance of ancestors, usually lineage founders and past pawo

and bongthing during possession rituals also conflicts somewhat with the
tenets of Tibetan Buddhism, which maintains that the consciousness
of a dead person, under normal circumstances, will reincarnate within
a period of forty-nine days. By contrast, the ancestors who do make
appearances during possession rituals in Tingchim reside in bon paradises
located somewhere in the mountains between the valleys of Ha and
Chumbi from where they regularly visit the village and interact with
their descendants during possession rituals held in their honour.10 This
practice is not to be confused with the case of the Sherpa lhawa who
gets possessed by nöpa or shindi, the malignant ghosts of certain dead
men (Fürer-Haimendorf 1964: 265). These types of beings are common
throughout ethnic Tibet and are equally present in Tingchim where
they are called shindre ( gshin ’dre). In Tingchim, these are usually thought
to be the spirits of people whose consciousness was kidnapped after
death by a local nöpa due to an improper funeral or who suffer exces-
sive attachment to, and thus linger around, the surroundings of their
past existence, creating trouble for the living and interacting with their
relatives through the medium of the pawo until they can be liberated
through the performance of specific rituals. They are often prisoners
of nöpa, unlike the previously mentioned ancestors who belong to the

10
Past lamas usually do not appear during possession rituals since they do not reside
in the bon paradises. Lamas are expected to find their way through the bardo, or the
period between death and rebirth, and reincarnate within a period of forty-nine days.
Those who have broken their vows while they were alive are said to become tsen.
162 chapter five

pho lha mo lha and who gained access to the bon paradises through the
power and respect they enjoyed in life.
Nebesky-Wojkowitz also mentions that the Sikkimese pawo and nejum
“become possessed by the spirit of the dead” (1956: 425) without speci-
fying the nature of this interaction. However, later in the text (ibid.:
151), it becomes clear that he is referring to the practice of communi-
cating with shindre, the lost or kidnapped consciousness of dead men.
As previously mentioned, this differs from the interaction I witnessed
in Tingchim where possessing ancestors are considered members of
the pho lha mo lha who have, to some extent, been deified even though
communication with shindre may also take place.11 This distinguishes
the Sikkimese pawo from what Nebesky-Wojkowitz calls the
lowest-ranking mediums, who normally act as the mouthpieces of the yul
lha, [and who] might occasionally be visited by the roaming spirit of the
deceased . . . such a spirit will, however, be unable to give any prophetic
answer (ibid.: 417).
This, is of course, according to a Buddhist paradigm and classification
that does not take into consideration the deified ancestors and bon deities
of the pho lha mo lha, who may all provide prophetic answers.
Verbal interaction between ancestors and their descendants through
the medium of possession does not seem to have been observed among
many populations of the Tibetan cultural area with the possible excep-
tion of the lhakama, the female shaman of the Khumbu in eastern Nepal
who serves as the mouthpiece of the local gods and spirits of the dead12
(Diemberger 1991), and especially the Naxi of the Chinese province of
Yunnan, although it is probably present among other ethnic minori-
ties of the Tibetan-Chinese borderland. Rock (1959: 799–800) gives a
description of a Naxi ritual whereby the llhü bu shaman invokes his male
and female ancestors for power and protection, after which the spirits
of deceased ancestors are invited to interact with their descendants in
order to give predictions in matters of illness in much the same way
as in Tingchim. Schmid only mentions that the Yolmo bompo shaman

11
An example of a ritual held to liberate a shindre is given in chapter 9.
12
Contrary to the pawo and nejum in Tingchim, the lhakama’s main task lies in acting
as a medium for the dead spirits at funerals in addition to divine cases of illness (1991:
142). Although the pawo and nejum in Tingchim do act as mouthpiece of the dead, they
never do so at funerals, which are the domain of the lamas alone.
 the shamans 163

of Helambu “invokes his father’s and grandfather’s spirits” (1967: 86),

but unfortunately gives no details of such interactions.
However, interaction between ritual specialists and ancestors settled
in heavenly paradises does occur among the Lepchas, the Gurungs, the
Limbus and the Tamangs and probably among many other Himalayan
ethnic groups, but this interaction is usually of a different kind. Accord-
ing to Holmberg, when the Tamang shaman or bombo dies, he becomes a
lente or ancestral spirit and inhabits secret heavens in the snowy reaches
of the Himalayas while other Tamangs reincarnate within forty-nine
days. These lente will afflict their direct descendants and their assaults
can only be assuaged by adopting the shamanic vocation (1989: 146).
As we have seen, this is similar to the situation in Tingchim whereby
a past pawo who has settled in Rigdzin Ne, the heavenly bon paradise,
will have his power and knowledge transferred to a new pawo who
will become his spiritual descendant. But contrary to Tingchim, no
direct discourse between divinities—including lente —harmful agents
and humans unfolds during séances of possession (1989: 168) and they
never make themselves known through speech, activity, or sight (1989:
162). According to Mumford (1989), the Gurungs also share a land
of the dead on top of a rock dome called Oble where the souls of
deceased Gurungs are led by the Ghyabre shaman during the Gurung
death rite. Interaction with the living does occur during the death
rite when “the soul encounters living kin members after entering the
body of an animal” (1989: 182). Although Mumford mentions that
the Ghyabre shaman is “able to call the spirits of the ancient ones
into his body at will” (1989: 180) he only gives one example of such
an occurrence where the main ancestral deity of the Ghale nobility
addressed the villagers verbally (1989: 69), and there is no mention of
other ‘ancient ones’ or ancestors communicating directly with their
descendants. The situation is similar among the Lepchas, whose souls
are guided to a heavenly paradise called Rum Lyang located in the
vicinity of Mount Kangchendzönga. It is the responsibility of the mun,
the Lepcha female shaman, to guide the soul to Rum Lyang where it
will remain with the spirits of the ancestors and not reincarnate in this
world again (Nebesky-Wojkowitz 1951: 27). Communication between
living relatives and the deceased person only occurs during the funeral
night when, speaking through the mun, the deceased Lepcha is able to
express his last wishes, complete unsettled business and distribute his
personal belongings (ibid.: 34–35) as well as explaining the cause of his
death (Gorer 1987: 358).
164 chapter five

Among the Limbus, the soul of the dead is equally guided to the
village of the dead located to the west of the world of the living and
may take possession of the ritual specialist during such ceremonies
(Sagant 1976: 58), but those who die alone prematurely are thought
not to make it there and later return to attack the living. The latter are
thought to come back and seek revenge. In such cases a spectacular
three-day ritual is held where, at a certain point, the deceased speaks
through the mouth of the yebā and is encouraged to express all his
grievances and receive compensation to prevent him from returning
and troubling the living (Michailovsky and Sagant 1992).
In Tingchim, funeral rites are the domain of the lamas alone, and
communication with ancestors does not take place on that occasion.
Verbal interaction between lineage founders, past bon ritual special-
ists and villagers only takes place during bon rituals, either during the
biannual harvest offerings held in every household, whenever the pawo
or nejum are called in to divine the cause of illness or, as we will see
in chapter 11, during the pawo’s annual retreat. Ancestors are never
invoked or questioned but spontaneously appear and inadvertently offer
predictions and advice to their descendants.
Höfer (1973) distinguishes between three types of possession in South
Asia and the Himalayas. Among the non-Hindu ethnic groups of the
hills such as the Tamangs, the Gurungs and the Limbus, possession
never befalls the laity but only a ritual specialist. In contrast to this,
among Hindu populations of both India and Nepal, possession by gods
or ancestors often occurs in various forms among the laity. In the third
type of possession among tribal groups of Middle and North-East India,
the dead regularly possess ritual specialists and hold dialogues with the
living, as in the case of the Sora.
Dialogues with ancestors in Tingchim are of a very different nature
from those among the Sora. In the latter case, speaking through the
shamans whom they possess, the dead hold lengthy and regular dialogues
with their relatives about their death, as well about the causes of illness
among the living for which the dead are held responsible (Vitebsky
1993). While all the dead hold dialogues with the living among the
Sora, only a few distinguished ancestors such as previous bon religious
specialists and important lineage figures will communicate with their
descendants through the shamans in Tingchim. These ancestors are
part of the pho lha mo lha and are there to protect the patrilineage,
bless it with male descendants and abundant harvests, and occasionally
dispense advice and predictions.
 the shamans 165

As mentioned above, the closest example I have come across within

the Tibetan cultural area is that of the Na-Khi shaman who invokes
his male and female ancestors for power and protection, and to give
predictions in matters of illness. Considering that some of the Lhopos’
ancestors are thought to have migrated from Kham Minyak on the
Tibetan-Chinese borderland in the thirteenth century, similarity with
Na-Khi possession should not be surprising and further research on the
origin of Lhopo shamanism should indeed look in a northern rather
than a southern direction.

5. Looking north: comparative notes with

Mongolian shamanism

When justifying my use of the term shaman in the first chapter, I

suggested that Sikkimese shamanism could perhaps be located on the
southern edge of the Siberian complex. While comparing aspects of
Sikkimese and Daur Mongolian shamanism (Humphrey 1996), I indeed
found a surprising number of similarities.
Earlier in this chapter, I introduced the notion of kabab, whereby a
new pawo must first become the spiritual descendant and recipient of the
powers and qualities of a deceased pawo who is referred as his kabab or
spiritual ascendant before he can himself start his training and become a
shaman. Along with the kabab, the new pawo also inherits his predecessor’s
tutelary deity. The kabab will demand his earlier ritual instruments and
together with his guardian deity will now empower the new shaman,
help him take control of troubling spirits and regulate his trances.
The onggor or the ‘spirits of shaman predecessors’ (1996: 391) of
the Daur yagdan shaman is remarkably similar to that of the Sikkimese
kabab which the Daur initiate must first accept before taking on a new
existence as a yagdan shaman and start his training with an older sha-
man teacher (ibid.: 31). An onggor consists of the soul-spoor of
previous and now dead shamans. It was when this entered a young per-
son, becoming identified with their soul, that he or she had to become
a shaman (ibid.: 185).
Only in union with the onggor could a shaman discover, deal with, and
subdue other spirits. The onggor was “a cumulation of distinct individu-
als who were nevertheless a unity, spoken of in the singular” (ibid.:
190–92). Although the notion of plurality is not explicit in Tingchim,
166 chapter five

it is understood that the kabab himself in turn had his own kabab dur-
ing his lifetime and so on, and that the entire spiritual descent line
of shamans shared the same guardian spirit. And as it used to be the
case in Tingchim until the end of the nineteenth century, each Daur
clan had its own yagdan shaman for protection against spirits. Neither
the yagdan nor the pawo participated in death ceremonies and both
performed calendrical communal rituals to honour their guardian spir-
its and numerous incidental rituals to divine the cause of illness and
misfortune, bargain with spirits, retrieve human souls stolen by spirits,
and so forth (ibid.: 184–5).
The yagdan shaman and the pawo both recovered from their initial
illnesses once they embarked upon their shamanic careers and wore
crowns once initiated. While the crown of the Sikkimese pawo is thought
to have power, the whole costume of the yagdan shaman had its own
magical power. The yagdan skull-cap had six towering metal deer-antlers
fixed to it with a metal bird between them (ibid.: 206). While attending
the pawo’s annual retreat discussed in chapter 11, I was surprised to hear
these same motifs evoked in his chanting. One of the oral texts recited
during the retreat is The Bon [Story] of the Deer with the Eight-Branched
Antlers (Bon shwa ba’i rwa brgyad). On the retreat’s altar are two torma
in the shape of birds representing the two carpenters who had built
the palace of the ritual’s presiding deity Yum Machen Düsum Sangay,
head of all mo lha, daughter of Shenrab whose abode is a lake in upper
Yarlung. As Humphrey points out (ibid.: 207), the combination of the
antlered stag and the bird is a very ancient motif appearing in South
Siberia, Mongolia, and the Ordos in the fifth century B.C.
The hojoor, the most powerful spirits among the Daur, were ancestral
clan spirits belonging to the patrilineal descent group (ibid.: 188). These
are very similar to the pho lha of the Sikkimese, both considered power-
ful complex entities with whom certain shamans could communicate.
The Sikkimese pho lha are equally more than ‘straightforward patrilineal
predecessors’ (ibid.: 189), often portrayed as legendary characters or
local supernatural beings who came to be associated in historical times
with the patrilineal descent group. And like the pho lha, the hojoor could
be aggressive and might follow brides into their new homes and create
havoc and need to be propitiated (ibid.: 189). The Daur Mongols equally
made images of both onggor and hojoor for propitiation. On the Sikkimese
pawo’s altar, the ‘onggor’ would correspondent to the anonymous groups
of torma meant to represent previous shamans while the ‘hojoor’ would
correspond to the specifically named pho lha.
 the shamans 167

In addition to the tamed onggor and hojoor spirits, the yagdan shaman’s
main concerns were a number of wild barkan spirits that had names,
placings and histories. Minor unidentified spirits known as shurkul could
be dealt with by any other specialists (ibid.: 190). Again, the similarity
with Tingchim is striking: there are about sixteen well-known local
supernatural beings in and around the village, each with its own abode,
history, likes and dislikes, which the pawo and the bongthing regularly
have to pacify.
While the Daur yagdan shaman can be compared to the Sikkimese
pawo, the Daur bagchi is remarkably similar to the Sikkimese bongthing
along with the division of labour that defines these ritual specialists.
Both bagchi and bongthing are considered ritualists whose jobs are ‘to
know the rituals and say the prayers’ and neither are spirit-inducing
shamans (ibid.: 30). Neither undergoes any special initiation or wears
special clothes, and neither can ever be a woman. Both make sacri-
fices, consecrate animals to spirits, make divinations, send spells and
can act as ritual adviser and helper to shamans (ibid.: 30). Both can list
the names of sacred places and their qualities (ibid.: 147), seem more
concerned with land deities rather than ancestral spirits and usually
take care of the minor rites.
This similarity between bagchi and bongthing again points in the direc-
tion that the bongthing of the Lhopos—previously known as bon ban as
we have seen in chapter 1, meaning ‘the one who can recite the oral
texts of bon’—had his own set of rituals and prayers before he encoun-
tered the bongthing of the Lepcha, adopted the Lepcha land deities and
integrated many Lepcha rituals into his own repertoire. However, one
crucial difference remains: as we have seen, the Lepcha bongthing does
induce spirits while the bongthing of the Lhopos, like the bagchi, never
gets possessed.
For a comparison with northern region, Mongolia seems appropri-
ate for its relative cultural affinity with Sikkim and because neither
the Sikkimese nor the Daur shamans have come under a strong Bud-
dhist influence similar to that experienced by the Tibetan lhapa. Both
Nebesky-Wojkowitz (1956: 538–53) and Bellezza (2005: 20–25) have also
seen affinities and have attempted to draw cultural parallels between
Tibetan ‘shamanism’ and that of Inner Asia.
Turning to Siberia proper and adding to these observations, the most
striking parallels I could see between the Sikkimese pawo and the Tungus
shaman are the three following points. As we have seen in chapter 1,
the first was that the pawo may be referred to as a shaman or ‘master
168 chapter five

of spirit’ since agency is still attributed to him to some extent with the
result that he “can at will introduce spirits into his own body” and go
“into controlled states of trance in appropriate circumstances” to bor-
row I.M. Lewis definition (1971: 45). To this we could add that agency
is also attributed to his kabab or predecessor since the kabab’s utterances
during trance are considered the most authoritative, especially in terms
of diagnosis and recommended rituals. Although ultimate agency
remains with their common tutelary deity who acts like a supervisor,
in all practical terms, Yeshe Gonpo’s power and authority remains
theoretical as he usually does not intervene during possession rituals.
He only manifests himself as a guest of honour and dispenses general
blessings during initiations or important annual rituals.
The second point would be that like the Tungus shaman
it is in fact by his power over the spirits which he incarnates that the
shaman is able to treat and control afflictions caused by pathogenic spirits
in others (ibid.: 45).
The Tungus shaman calls the spirits into himself, establishes the cause
of the misfortune and takes appropriate action (ibid.: 46). We have
seen when discussing the cause of illness in chapter 4, that like the
Tungus shaman, in the case of spirit-induced afflictions, the role of
the pawo together with the help of his deities and sometimes with that
of a negotiator will identify the responsible local spirit, uncover the
reason for his anger and negotiate the ritual that will pacify him and
thus relieve the patient.
A third comparative point would be the shaman being
essential to the well being of the clan, for he controls the clan’s own
ancestral spirits and other foreign spirits which have been adopted into
its spirit hierarchy . . . with the inducement of regular offerings, these tame
spirits are considered to protect the clan from attack by other alien spirits,
and also to ensure the fertility and prosperity of its members (ibid.: 45).
Contrary to the practices of central Tibet, the patrilineage has main-
tained a certain importance among the Sikkimese Lhopos and the pawo’s
primary responsibility is to maintain good relations with the lineage’s
ancestral gods. As seen in chapter 3, as in the case of the Tungus, some
of the powers the pho lha mo lha can bless their descendants with, if
regularly and properly propitiated, include the ability to provide sons
and good harvests, to avert death in case of illness, and to protect
members from curses. And they can similarly withdraw their protection
and blessings if their rituals are not regularly held.
 the shamans 169

This concludes our overview of the pawo’s initiation and training, the
lack of Buddhist influence over his practice compared to Tibet and
its general affinity with North Asian shamanism. Considering that
Sikkimese pawo and nejum have practically disappeared, any further
enquiries into this particular form of shamanism and its affinities with
North Asia should perhaps be carried out in Western Bhutan, particu-
larly in the Ha Valley, from where Tingchim villagers are said to have
emigrated in the seventeenth century.
The first five chapters, among other things, have attempted to outline
the importance and nature of Tingchim’s shamanic worldview, some
reasons for its persistence and to what extent it is accepted and shared
by all. The following four chapters, concerned with the land and the
household, will consider how the village’s ritual specialists operate within
this accepted view of the universe and provide examples illustrating
the relation between the natural and supernatural worlds. These case
studies show how the shamans and the village lamas operate within
complementary spheres of ritual action and how they will not hesitate to
pool their ritual skills when the survival of the patient is in question.
PART II: THE LAND
 CHAPTER SIX

THE LAND, ITS WORKERS, HARVESTS AND RITUALS

The agricultural base of Tingchim village has been through a series of

important and rapid changes since the 1930s. From being a subsistence
economy based on slash and burn cultivation of cereals, hunting-gather-
ing and the keeping of cattle, Tingchim’s agricultural economy is now
based on the cultivation of irrigated rice terraces and the cardamom
cash-crop. This change would not have been possible without the help
of Limbu settlers who came to the area in 1938, and without the
arrival of Indian merchants at the end of the nineteenth century. In
this chapter, I introduce these changes and discuss how villagers and
their rituals of the land were affected by the new settlers. It will be seen
that land rituals and their inherent shamanic worldview seem to have
maintained their importance and even gained a new dimension when
faced with an increasing number of threatening outsiders.
Harvest rituals are performed biannually by every single Tingchim
household. The pawo, the bongthing and the lama successively hold their
own part of the ritual, addressing their respective set of supernatural
beings in order to secure the blessings of abundant harvests. Their
successive performance towards a unique ritual goal couldn’t better
express how they are perceived as being complementary rather than
in competition with one another. This complementarity expressed dur-
ing the harvest rituals becomes evident when the ritual specialists are
successively consulted in moments of crisis or as we will see in later
chapters, even pool their ritual skills together if the condition of the
patient becomes particularly serious.

1. The land and its workers

When the ancestors of the present Tingchim villagers first settled in the
area in the seventeenth and eighteenth century, the village houses were
located in a place called Tingjen located higher up the mountain, and
later on, a few households started settling lower down in the close-by
area of Be. The economy was then based on the keeping of cattle in
the forest and higher pastures, on hunting, trapping and the gathering
174 chapter six

of jungle products as well as on slash and burn cultivation of dry rice,

millet and buckwheat in the forest. When cardamom was introduced in
the North District at the beginning of the twentieth century, Tingchim
villagers started cultivating a few plants all the way down the valley
alongside the river Teesta as well as paddy in small fields where water
was available below the lake. At that time, many came down the moun-
tain and built secondary houses below Tingjen, in Tingchim proper.
These eventually became their only residence and the main settlement
as the cultivation of paddy and cardamom slowly expanded from the
late 1930s. By the 1940s, there were only four permanent households
left in Tingjen and four in Be, while those who maintained second-
ary houses on the mountain until the early 1960s did so because they
were still looking after a number of cattle which required grazing in
the higher pastures. Before the introduction of cardamom, a rich man
was the owner of many cows but when the cardamom fields took over,
the keeping of cattle became secondary and Lhopos handed them over
to Nepalese shepherds who stayed up the mountain on their own, year
round, to look after the herds. Today, only two rich families still keep
cattle up the mountain for their personal consumption of milk, butter,
fresh cheese and meat.
While the slash and burn fields were too steep to be ploughed, the
new settlement of Tingchim offered an exceptionally flat area for Sikkim
which gave them the possibility of maintaining permanent dry fields
of maize, wheat, barley and vegetables in between village houses, while
the entire area below the village and the lake was gradually turned into
irrigated terraced paddy with the help of their Mangshila neighbours,
the first Limbu settlers who came to the area in 1938. Shifting culti-
vation required vast areas of land as fields had to lie fallow for seven
or eight years in between years of cultivation. As they were gradually
abandoned between 1960 and 1975, these large tracks of forest behind
the village were converted to the cultivation of the cardamom cash
crop. With the cultivation of large cardamom fields, Tingchim villag-
ers joined the global market economy and became dependant on the
labour of Nepalese seasonal workers who started settling as tenant
farmers on Lhopo land within Tingchim Revenue Block proper from
the early 1960s. Today, agricultural fields in Tingchim are of three
types: cardamom, dry fields and irrigated paddy.1

1
The total area of Tingchim Revenue Block is 595 hectares of which 267.5 are
under cultivation and the 327.5 remaining hectares are government land consisting of
 the land, its workers, harvests and rituals 175

Before the 1960s, when slash and burn cultivation was still the
norm2 and Nepalese tenants had not yet arrived, villagers were entirely
dependent upon one another as shifting cultivation demanded the par-
ticipation of a large group of people working together on each other’s
fields. Shifting cultivation is considered much more labour intensive
than settled agriculture as, year after year, new fields require to be cut,
uprooted, burnt, sowed and then weeded at least two or three times a
year. Each farmer’s work group was stable but different, made up of a
mixture of relatives, friends and neighbours from two or three differ-
ent households with whom he, or his father, had agreed to work with
on a personal exchange basis. If two farmers had a permanent work
exchange agreement, their respective households would have to pro-
vide one, two or three labourers depending on the number of people
required for each job at hand. Larger households where brothers and
their respective families still lived together could easily provide labour
to a number of households and thus expect all the necessary help to
cultivate larger fields while small households with only one or no son
were greatly limited in the help they could provide and hence receive,
and often remained poor even though the family may have had a lot
of land. A son usually inherited work exchange partners from his father
but since there were no set rules about these work groups, new relations
could be formed with friends and neighbours. There were and still are
Lhopo women’s work groups for the transplanting of rice and millet
seedlings as an entire field should be done in a single day, and women
are considered faster transplanters than men.3
This work exchange system, called ngala (snga lag), is still in use in
Tingchim and about fifty percent of the fields are worked in this way

forests, rocks, streams, roads and barren land. Of the 267.5 cultivated hectares, 142
are cardamom fields mostly located in the forest above the village, 91 are dry fields
distributed in between houses and around the village, and 34.5 are irrigated terraces
all located in the lower altitudes below the houses. These statistics are only an indica-
tion of field distribution as they were compiled during the 1977–78 land survey and
have only partially been updated since. Some dry fields have since been converted to
cardamom, which has not always been reported to the Land Revenue Department.
2
Although labour intensive, slash and burn is considered a very productive method
of cultivation which would still be in use in certain areas which cannot be cultivated
by any other method if it had not been made illegal in an effort to protect the forest
and avoid landslides. However, the burning of fields for the cultivation of millet and
buckwheat can still be seen in the Lepcha reservation of Dzongu around the months
of April and December where it is still permitted.
3
The only other women’s work exchange group is for the making of chadung (bcags
rdungs), a snack made of maize and beaten in the shape of a hard cup; at least three
women are needed to produce them.
176 chapter six

while all the rest of the land is cultivated by Nepalese tenants. In addi-
tion to the fields they work, according to two different types of tenancy
agreement known as adhiyā̃ and ku ,4 if more people are required Nep-
alese tenants may also be asked to join the Lhopos’ regular ngala groups
on a daily wage basis. This way, thanks to the income from cardamom,
small households with only one or no son who, in the past, would not
have been able to muster the necessary manpower can now cultivate
the entire extent of their land holdings with Nepalese help. There
is another system of work exchange called lapo (lag po) or simply lap,
which is still in use in Tingchim, whereby the work provided in case
of extraordinary situations doesn’t need to be reciprocated, or at least
not immediately, and the Lhopo labourers are thanked at the end of
the day by being offered a special meal with meat and chang. Lap will be
resorted to in the case of house building or emergencies. For example,
when a senior member of a household is seriously ill or passes away,
one person per household from the whole village will come and help
for a day, either with harvesting, sowing, cutting fodder or preparing
the yearly wood supply, etc.

1.1. Agricultural tenant farmers and labourers of Nepalese origin

We have seen in chapter 2 that the first Nepalese to settle in North
Sikkim were a group of a dozen Limbus from eastern Nepal who
were granted permission by Sir Tashi Namgyal in 1938 to open fields
on monastery land within the Phodong Estate at Mangshila on the
southern border of Tingchim.5 These new neighbours initially worked

4
Under the adhiyā̃ system of equal partnership, the labourer enters into a contract
with the landowner by which he will turn over fifty percent of the harvest after the
seeds required for next year’s crop have been set aside. Under the ku system as prac-
tised in Tingchim, the tenant agrees to turn over a specific amount of the harvest
regardless of production fluctuation but which gives the tenant farmer the right to
build a hut on the landowner’s land. The ku (contract) system practised in Tingchim
today is different from the original ku which used to be practised on the lessee and kaji
estates and still varies from region to region. Ku is much more frequent since tenant
farmers require a place to live and is considered a better deal for the landowner since
his share is ensured but presents more risks for the tenant. Adhiyā̃ is more frequent for
cardamom fields, when a rich landowner’s fields are so large that it is easier for him to
hand over all responsibilities, on a fifty-fifty contract basis to a trusted tenant farmer
who will take care of everything, from hiring and looking after the harvest pickers to
drying and packing the final product.
5
Before being given permission, it is said that they were made to promise Sir Tashi
Namgyal that they would befriend his Lhopo and Lepcha subjects, respect their way
 the land, its workers, harvests and rituals 177

as agricultural labourers for the Tingchim Lhopos, helped them carve

paddy terraces below the lake and taught them how to practise per-
manent irrigated agriculture. Until their arrival, oxen were not used
for ploughing, not only because the slash and burn fields were too
steep and there were no blacksmiths in the area, but because it had,
at one point, been made illegal by the Palace since it was considered
cruel to animals.
With the end of landlordism, many Lhopos and Lepchas throughout
Sikkim started hiring landless Nepalese labourers themselves either on
a seasonal basis or as permanent tenant farmers. In Tingchim, this
trend did not start until the early 1960s, when the area reserved for
slash and burn cultivation above the village was converted to cardamom
and landless Nepalese of various ethnic origins came through the area
in search of work at harvest time. Eventually, thanks to the revenue
from the cardamom, which made the Lhopos less dependent on their
grain fields, some Nepalese seasonal workers remained in Tingchim
as tenant farmers.
The Nepalese tenant farmers, who prefer warmer climates, settled
in the lower and more fertile areas of Tingchim Block where Lhopos
would not live, not only because of their preference for cooler altitudes
but also because of their fear of malaria. At first, there were only two
Limbu families in the early 60s, relatives from Nepal of the Mangshila
Limbus, but year after year, more seasonal workers came and stayed
after being offered the opportunity to cultivate one or more of a Lhopo’s
grain fields. They received a revenue in kind which was supplemented
by cardamom during the harvest and by food when they were asked
to join a ngala group for the day.6 While some family members worked
for the Lhopos, others found work in building or road construction for
the army or the state. Their numbers steadily increased and according
to the 1993–94 census made for the issuing of family benefit cards,

of life and follow their customs. The Limbus had worked on the rebuilding of the
Gangtok Palace and its chapel after which Sir Tashi Namgyal gave them permission
to settle at a place of their choice on monastery land within the Phodong Estate where
the Lhopos had asked for help in clearing the jungle of dangerous animals.
6
Workers were always paid in kind until cash wages were introduced in 1990. In
1994, the daily wage for agricultural work was Rs 20 for men—sometimes Rs 25 for
work in cardamom fields—and Rs 12 for women including three meals and chang. A
day’s work of ploughing, for a man and his two oxen, was paid Rs 60. These wages
apply as much to Nepalese workers as to poor Lhopos who are hired on a daily basis.
At the time of fieldwork, one American dollar was worth Rs 35.
178 chapter six

within just over thirty years, they had come to outnumber the Lhopos
within Tingchim Revenue Block with a total of over 300 Nepalese7
compared to 265 Lhopos. This settlement of new tenant farmers and
the hiring of new seasonal workers were, however, stopped some five
years ago when the land usage was considered to have reached its
limits. All work, including the cardamom harvest, is now handled by
the existing tenants.8
Among all the different ethnic communities represented in Sikkim,
the Limbus are those who the Tingchim Lhopos feel closest to and get
on with best. Limbus are perceived as being sincere, adaptable and even
respectful and grateful for working for their Lhopo landowners. After a
day’s work, a Limbu worker will drink chang and even eat meat in his
Lhopo landowner’s kitchen. Many are talkative and will entertain the
Lhopos with all kinds of news and jokes. The Lhopos say that one of
the reasons they feel close to the Limbus and even to the Tamangs is
because, like the Lepchas and themselves, they are easily taken advan-
tage of by the clever high caste Bāhun-Chetris. These groups also feel
easily cheated by Tibetans and Sherpas, who are considered far better
traders. Although quarrels between individual Lhopos and Limbus do
exist, particularly over land and water use, the latter are not perceived
as mean and calculating as a group in contrast to the Bāhun-Chetris.
Only a few Lhopo households have sufficient manpower at home to
cultivate their land on their own—following the ngala system. Other
households which lack manpower or are busy with government employ-
ment may have up to four Nepalese families working for them on
various contractual agreements. One way or the other, most Lhopos
are now dependent on Nepalese labour, at least for the cardamom
harvest, and would not be able to cultivate the extent of their land

7
There were 165 Nepalese with Indian citizenship and the right to vote while the
Nepalese tenant farmers without Indian citizenship were estimated at 140.
8
The great majority of Tingchim’s tenant farmers are Limbus from Dhankuta and
other villages of eastern Nepal but there are also some Bāhuns, Chetris and Tamangs
among the earlier settlers who were joined a few years ago by a small number of Rais,
Magars and Gurungs. Some were born in Sikkim and came to Tingchim from other
Sikkimese villages while the majority came directly from Nepal. Among the Limbus
settled in North Sikkim, none is from the Buddhist Tsong community, the Sikkimese
Limbus who were already settled in West Sikkim at the time of the founding of the
kingdom in the seventeenth century. A few Limbu families in Tingchim belonging to
the Lhasa Gotra consider themselves partly Buddhist and claim their origin in Tibet
while the great majority of Tingchim Limbus are Hindus, belonging to the Khasi
Gotra and claiming their origin in Varanasi.
 the land, its workers, harvests and rituals 179

without their help.9 Although the Nepalese tenant farmers have greatly
helped them develop their agricultural economy, the Lhopos have come
to resent them as they consider that the newcomers are now settled
in their village, are profiting from their land, and have even started
marrying their sons and daughters. Recently, the tenant farmers have
started to be blamed for the current shortage of land and a new trend
of—usually unsuccessful—expulsion attempts has started in Tingchim
as educated Lhopo sons come to believe that without prompt action,
they might never be able to retake possession of some of their fathers’
fields.10 This trend is being fuelled firstly by the need to liberate grain
fields so that they may be converted into cash crops because holdings
are becoming smaller and smaller from one generation to the next,
and secondly by a rumour that tenant farmers may gain ownership
of a percentage of land they have tilled for over twelve years if some
pending act aimed at protecting the cultivator ever receives the assent
of the President of India.
Although they generally get on very well, the Mangshila Limbus
are the settlers the Lhopos have come to resent the most, apparently
because these Limbus do not work for them any longer and indeed
now own land on which the Lhopos would have expanded their car-
damom fields if the newcomers had not been invited to settle there by
Sir Tashi Namgyal. There is also another potential source of conflict
in that the Mangshila Limbus and the Tingchim tenant farmers are
becoming increasingly strong politically11—or potentially stronger since
the workers who recently came from Nepal do not yet have the right
to vote. This follows the coming to power of the Sikkim Democratic
Front (SDF) party, which derived their victory from the votes of the
OBCs12 and is championing their cause.

9
I have heard of only one village in east Sikkim where the Lhopos, till this day,
have forbidden the settlement of Nepalese tenant farmers on their land. This village
has retained its traditional economy based on the keeping of a large number of cattle
in the forest above the village and thus do not require the help of Nepalese labourers
and tenant farmers. The villagers supply Gangtok with fresh cheese and butter.
10
Older villagers tend to resist these developments and, for example, Kiaksing, the
grandfather of the house in which I lived, promised his Limbu tenants that they would
be allowed to stay on his land for as long as he remained alive.
11
There were 973 voters in Mangshila in 1995.
12
The OBCs are the ‘Other Backward Classes’ or the Mongoloid Nepalese such
as Rai, Gurung, etc. The Limbus and the Tamangs were among the OBCs until they
were granted the ‘Scheduled Tribe’ status in 2002. Until then, the main political
groupings formed along ethnic lines were the BLs, the OBCs and the NBCs, or the
180 chapter six

Plate 13: An elder Limbu tenant farmer of Tingchim village

Whether ‘Hindu’ or ‘Buddhist’, all Limbus, Lepchas and Lhopos of the

region seem to recognise, each in their own way, a few common local
supernatural beings, the most important being some of the ajo and the
anyo as well as a few local nöpa. Chief among them in Tingchim is Ajo
Goka, also known as Tsong Goka (the ajo of the original Sikkimese Bud-
dhist Limbus or Tsongs) for whom most Lhopos and Lepchas keep a
chicken zung13—previously a pig—while all Limbus, including the newly
arrived Khasi Limbus, keep a pig zung. The next in significance is Ajo

Bhutia-Lepchas, the ‘Other Backward Classes’, and the Newar-Bāhun-Chetris. With

the victory of Chamling’s Sikkim Democratic Front (SDF) party in 1994, it was the
first time in Sikkim’s history that an OBC government came to power. The SDF was
meant to represent ‘those who go barefoot’, or the ‘flat-nosed’ Nepalese speakers—Rai,
Limbu, Gurung, Tamang, etc.—who are the majority in Sikkim, as opposed to the
‘pointy-nosed’ Nepalese speakers or the Bāhun-Chetris.
13
A zung is an animal that has been ritually assigned by the bongthing and now belongs
to a local supernatural being. See chapter 4.
 the land, its workers, harvests and rituals 181

Dongbong for whom the Lhopos and the Lepchas keep a pig zung while
many Limbus offer him a goat. Lenji Anyo, the grandmother or owner
of the cardamom plant is also acknowledged by all when land-owning
Lhopos and Lepchas—along with their Nepalese workers—perform
an offering ritual before taking the cardamom harvest away from her.
The Limbus will also keep a chicken zung for Latsen Bagchia in order
to prevent any occurrence of illness, as well as a goat zung for Chong
Gyepo. This will be offered every three years during their annual ritual
called du du e. Dzönga is equally recognised by all although the Limbus
do not hold any particular ritual in his honour.14

2. The Indian merchants

The Lhopo landowner, the Nepalese labourer and the Indian merchant
are the three pillars of the cardamom trade around which Lhopo eco-
nomic life revolves. All three are entirely dependent on the cardamom
and on each other for their livelihood. The first important merchants
of Gangtok were Dulichand Sri Lall15 of the Denjong Trading Com-
pany, and Jetmull and Bojraj who arrived in the late nineteenth century.
These first merchants were soon followed by many more, and by the
year 1917, there were fifty-three Marwari—the well-known merchant
caste from Rajasthan—and Bihari merchants operating all over Sik-
kim who came in order to profit from the expansion of the cardamom
trade. Of these, only two were established in North Sikkim in the area
of Mangan not far from Tingchim from apparently as early as 1895.16
These merchants played an important role in the development of the
country by buying the cardamom, organising the transport of the
harvest to India, providing loans and selling needed food rations to

14
Some Tamangs in Tingchim are the only Nepalese to sacrifice a chicken for
Dzönga at Dasain.
15
“Messrs Dulichand Sri Lall of Gangtok Bazaar came to Sikkim in 1887 at the
request of the then Political Officer J.C. White Esqr. C.I.E.” (Sikkim State Archives,
Land Revenue, file 48, Enquiry about debts in Sikkim, 27/v/1912).
16
According to Khyaliram Singhi (Raj Enterprise, Gangtok), his father, a Jain by
the name of Khaluram Singhi was the first merchant to open North Sikkim to trade
in 1895. Among the original merchants of North Sikkim were Bajrang Dass and
Gurumookh Dass (sons of Balchand) and Gopal Oswal. These first merchants came
here for the cardamom and were not involved with the Tibet trade, the bulk of which
went through the Jelepla and Nathula routes from Kalimpong and Gangtok to Yatung
in the Chumbi Valley, although some caravans of mules did come through the area.
182 chapter six

Plate 14: Cleaning the cardamom plants

villagers. Many spoke the Sikkimese and Lepcha languages and even
wore the Sikkimese dress.
At the beginning of the twentieth century, as the cultivation of car-
damom was being introduced in the North District, the first merchants
bartered wild cardamom, red dye17 and a wild root used in meat masala
with the Lepchas and Tingchim Lhopos, who provided them with Indian
salt, rice and oil in return. Once the first harvests of the cultivated
cardamom started coming in, the use of money was introduced and
cardamom was first bought from the Lhopos and the Lepchas at Rs 5
per maund (40 kg).18 With the money obtained from the cardamom,

17
Called wild madder or manjeet by Waddell (1899: 85).
18
According to the Gazetteer of Sikkim, the same cardamom was already priced at
Rs 30 to Rs 45 per maund in Gangtok in 1894, and according to the Administration
Report for the Year 1907–8, at Rs 50 to Rs 52 for the 1907 harvest. But the Lhopos
and the Lepchas had little idea of the value of their cardamom or how to get a better
price, and this exploitation continued for decades. By the 1930s, cardamom was still
being bought from the Lepchas at Rs 8 and from Tingchim at Rs 15, and by 1960 at
Rs 30 per maund, after which the prices rapidly caught up with reality. Skipping the
middleman seems to have been a concern in Sikkim for some time as it was suggested,
already in 1935, that the Government should perhaps buy the entire harvest and send
it to the Indian market by rail freight, a suggestion which was never entertained. Today,
although politicians still promise the Lhopos and Lepchas that they will do something
 the land, its workers, harvests and rituals 183

villagers were encouraged to buy rice, flour, tea, dhal, oil, salt, sugar,
soap and cloth from the same merchants who, in this way, also gained
from the profit made on selling them these goods. The Lhopos and
Lepchas of North Sikkim were from then on drawn into the world of
Indian capitalism in this way.
But from the very beginning, problems really started when villagers
had an urgent need for food supplies and money before the rice and
cardamom harvests were ready—usually for funerals or in case of seri-
ous illness. A system called dadani was then established whereby goods
and money were given on credit during the monsoon and repaid with
a pre-fixed amount of cardamom three to four months later at harvest
time. The loan rates were, however, highly disadvantageous to the bor-
rower.19 Although dadani was made illegal by J.C. White in 190920 who
tried to eliminate the practice and replace it by a system of govern-
ment loans, dadani, or in extreme cases another system known as byāj,21
are still a last resort today when the borrower cannot find any other
source of money. Villagers from these areas, who were mostly illiterate
until the 1960s, often had to trust the Indian merchants’ calculations
of their debt when goods were bought on credit. Eventually, because
of some quarrels over their accounts, most Lhopos of Tingchim would
no longer deal with the merchants of Mangan who now essentially

about this, nothing ever happens since it is said that the Indian merchants in Sikkim
further their interests by financing political parties. However, with the arrival of the
internet in Gangtok in the late 1990s, I heard that at least one Sikkimese from North
Sikkim was trying to skip the middleman by selling his crop directly to the Middle
East. More are likely to follow in the future.
19
The going rate of dadani in 1994 between landowner and money-lender was Rs
500 given in advance in the summer against one maund of cardamom worth Rs 2500
to be repaid at harvest time in October.
20
Dadani on cardamom produce: Council meeting held on the 29 November 1909
(Sikkim State Archives, Land Revenue, file 29, Dadani system on cardamom produce,
14/xxiii/1910).
21
In desperate situations, some would take loans in dadani or if a larger amount
was required, they would put one of their cardamom fields under byāj. According to
this illegal system, a secret written agreement is drawn up between a Lhopo and a
money-lender, usually a Nepalese, whereby a certain amount of money is lent, equal
to the value of a particular cardamom field, and the harvest of this same field is given
to the lender as interest only, for a minimum period of six months up to a number of
years, until the borrower repays the initial capital. If this cannot be done by a certain
pre-agreed number of years, the field then belongs to the money-lender. Byāj is now
rare, but when it was still a common practice, Tingchim villagers remember that the
Gyalmo Hope Namgyal tried to eliminate the practice and replace it with another
system called māchīkā ā whereby the harvest doesn’t only serve as payment for the inter-
est but as repayment of the capital. Māchīkā ā is no longer in use.
184 chapter six

Plate 15: Drying the cardamom harvest

over wood fires in the fields (author in the foreground)

do business with the Lepchas of Dzongu. Instead, the majority of

Tingchim households now sell their cardamom to and borrow goods
on credit from the Bihari and Marwari merchants of a new market
called Dikchu, which was established in 1945, while some even go as
far as Gangtok to sell cardamom and obtain additional credit.
Today all households that do not benefit from at least one regular
income from one of its members or other government contract work,
will have to buy goods on credit at one point or the other during the
year as most people’s cash income is not sufficient to carry them through
from one cardamom harvest to the next. The debt or greatest part
of it is cleared every year at the moment of harvest and the cycle of
borrowing restarts as soon as whatever amount was left after reimburs-
ing the debt has run out. In the case of serious illness or death, this
moment will come much sooner than expected as a series of elaborate
rituals, transport to doctors, medicine and especially funerals require
large quantities of money by village standards. Funeral expenses alone
can sink a family into debt for many years. In the case of at least two
Tingchim households, it has come to the point that the entire harvest is
swallowed by the debt, leaving nothing to cover expenses for the coming
year. And since cash is increasingly required either for labourers’ wages,
 the land, its workers, harvests and rituals 185

schooling expenses, medicine, transport and rituals, some households’

debts get larger and larger every year. In order to help the situation,
some will engage in petty business such as producing and selling chang,
arak, milk and cheese or by raising additional pigs and goats, but the
only real way out is to borrow more money in order to convert grain
fields into cardamom or ginger, or hope for a child to get a govern-
ment job, or pray for an exceptionally large cardamom harvest to come
along. Unfortunately, most cardamom plants are too old and need to
be replaced, the soil is depleted and the cardamom harvest is slowly
diminishing all over Sikkim.22 But it does happen that exceptional har-
vests do come along, as was the case in 1995, which allowed everyone
to clear their debts, put some money aside, and start afresh.
But it seems that a villager’s prospects of pulling himself out of this
vicious circle would be fairer if the interest rates charged by the mer-
chants were more reasonable. In theory, interest rates for goods bought
on credit will vary between 25 and 40% per annum, and interest rates
for cash loans will vary between 36 and 60%. Out of fifty-five registered
householders in Tingchim, it is estimated that twenty-one of them have
an average debt of Rs 15,000 while the average net income from the
cardamom for 1994 was Rs 25,000. Despite the high interest rates and
related problems, Lhopos prefer to deal with these merchants as they
consider them helpful, understanding and accommodating. Generally,
villagers are afraid of government or bank loans because they have
to be repaid by a certain date otherwise they may lose their landed
property while Indian merchants can’t take land as collateral since they
are not permitted to own it by law.

3. Harvests

3.1. The agricultural cycle and animal husbandry

In order to locate the rituals and their offerings in their wider socio-
economic and seasonal context it is necessary to consider the village’s
agricultural base. The agricultural year starts with the ploughing and

22
People always complain that when they were young, their cardamom plants
could produce as much as one hundred pods per fruit while today a dozen pods is
the norm.
186 chapter six

sowing of the maize (ken tsong) fields after Losar (lo gsar), the Tibetan
New Year around the end of February or the beginning of March.
Ploughing is done by hired Nepalese men with a pair of oxen and the
sowing is done by hand either by Lhopo men or women. The maize is
harvested at the end of July or in early August and is used in the making
of snacks, chang, and is given to cows, chicken, pigs and goats. Before
the introduction of paddy, maize was cooked and eaten like rice and
is still eaten in this way by old people or very poor households. Soya
(rdo srem) is simultaneously planted on the side of the maize fields and is
harvested in September. Ginger (sga), which was introduced in this area
by the Agricultural Department in the early 1990s as an alternative cash
crop to cardamom, is planted in April and harvested in January by the
few houses that are going ahead with the experiment. In May, millet
(mon cag) seedlings are transplanted in the dry fields and are harvested
in September. Millet was used to make flat bread but today it is mainly
used in the making of chang. When the extent of a household’s dry
fields is limited, two or three overlapping crops will share a common
field, usually maize and millet but sometimes maize and ginger. Rice
(’bya) seedlings are transplanted by groups of Lhopo women in May
and harvested from July, starting with the fields in the lower altitudes of
the village, and finishing in the higher fields at the end of September.
Women do the harvesting while men do the threshing by hand.

Plate 16: Women’s working group transplanting rice seedlings

 the land, its workers, harvests and rituals 187

Plate 17: Men’s working group threshing the rice harvest

Until recently, rice was considered a delicacy but has now become the
staple diet of most villagers, replacing millet and buckwheat flat bread,
wheat tsampa and cooked maize. Indigenous rice cultivated in the vil-
lage in considered a luxury kept for guests and special occasions if a
household’s production is not large enough to feed a family year round.
Instead, inexpensive Indian rice for everyday consumption is bought
from the local merchants with money obtained from cardamom but this
rice is of much lower quality and less nourishing than the indigenous
variety. Black dhal is planted with the rice on the paths in between
terraces and is harvested a week after the paddy.
The cardamom fields were created, for the most part, in the 1960s
and do not require much attention. These perennial plants and their
surrounding area only need to be cleared of grass and old leaves three
times a year, once before the harvest, which starts in late August in the
lower altitudes and finishes in October in the higher fields, a second
time in December when the small buds appear in order to protect them
from rodents, and a third time in mid-summer around the month of
June. Then comes the winter crops of wheat (nags) and barley ( gyo) that
are sowed from the end of November through December, the wheat in
the dry fields and the barley in the terraces which are both harvested
in April. Wheat and barley are used in the making of tsampa and chang
188 chapter six

although barley is also used in the making of a fried flat bread. Sum-
mer and winter vegetables are grown in gardens tended by the women
next to the houses.
Before the expansion of the cardamom fields, milking cows, goats
and pigs were kept on the ground floor of the house during the night.
In the morning, the pigs were let loose to roam through the village and
the little boys would take the goats and cows to the forest to graze.
Oxen raised for meat were permanently kept in the forest and looked
after by shepherds a few hours’ walk up the mountain. Now that the
cardamom fields have taken up all the forest land immediately behind
the village and little boys are required to go to school, there is nowhere
to take the goats and cows for grazing and sheds have been built a few
yards from the houses where they are now permanently kept. Women,
sometimes accompanied by a grown-up son or children during school
holidays set out in groups most mornings to the forest to cut leaves
from trees which they carry back for the animals at home. The cows’
and pigs’ diet is supplemented by kitchen refuse, particularly millet left
over from the production of chang, which is given to them first thing in
the morning. Each house usually keeps one or two milking cows, one
or two pigs, a couple of goats and half a dozen chickens which are all
looked after by the women. If goats are more numerous, they are given
to the Nepalese tenants to be looked after on a permanent basis.

3.2. Hunting and gathering

A large variety of edible plants are regularly collected from the forest,
mainly by men on their way to collect wood or to visit the cardamom
fields, but also by women and children when they go out in groups
to the forest in the morning to collect grass and leaves for the cattle.
Among these forest products are a variety of bamboo shoots, mush-
rooms, young ferns and stinging nettle, herb teas, yams, edible flowers,
sugar cane shoots and various types of green leaves. Together, these
form a significant part of the diet and some, particularly stinging nettle
soup (zo cag), can be consumed on a daily basis.
Wild animals were varied and numerous before they were hunted
down for reasons of safety by Nepalese invited for that purpose in the
late 1930s, and again when the cardamom fields were expanded into
the forest in the 1960s. Panthers have become extinct, tigers are very
rarely seen but leopards still appear from time to time in the village,
once during my stay. Two species of black and brown Himalayan bears
 the land, its workers, harvests and rituals 189

with white collars are still present and the smaller black one comes
out of the forest during the maize and cardamom harvests. The red
panda, once common in Sikkim, was last seen in Tingchim in the late
1980s. A high altitude goat with long brown hair is known to reside
in the mountain high above the village. Hunting is a winter activity,
when men are not busy in the fields and the forest is free of leeches
and undergrowth. Although hunting goes against Buddhist values and
is frowned upon as an activity, there are three active young hunters
in Tingchim who take to the forest two or three times a month with
rifle and dog in the hope of catching a barking deer, a porcupine or
a wild boar for their meat. Foxes, black jungle cats and monkeys23 are
also hunted in order to protect the chickens and the cardamom fields.
Before the use of rifles, animals were trapped and killed with bows
and arrows.

4. The land and its rituals

Now that interdependence between Lhopo villagers through the ngala

work exchange system has been considerably reduced, economic
exchanges are no longer the most important threads of Tingchim’s
social fabric, at least as far as relations between Lhopos are concerned.
In their social exchanges, the emphasis seems to have shifted from the
economic to the ritual in the process of forming village relations. This
shift seems to have occurred not only after their ties of economic inter-
dependence were displaced by Nepalese tenants and Indian merchants
but also once their political ties were taken over, as much on a local
level as on a state level, following the integration of Sikkim within the
Indian Union. This trend is actually not only limited to Tingchim, a
point which will be further discussed in chapter 10 when looking into
the village’s changing relations with the outside world in pre- and post-
1975 Sikkim. In Tingchim, rituals of the land which are discussed in
this chapter and the rituals of household members discussed in chapter
8, remain key elements of this transitional phase.

23
The meat of the monkey is considered medicinal in Tingchim, particularly for
the treatment of tuberculosis, malaria, dysentery, coughs, colds and fever. When a
monkey is killed, the meat, which is said to have a bad smell, is shared with whoever
requires it in the village at that time.
190 chapter six

Plate 18: Harvesting wheat

In this context, land rituals were still numerous and had not lost any
of their importance at the time of fieldwork. Harvesting, clearing old
forests to make new fields, killing farm animals, hunting and gathering
are all considered potentially dangerous activities as they may prove
to be disturbing to the village’s supernatural population. Abundant
harvests of grain are the blessings of the ancestral gods and powerful
protectors of the land such as Kangchendzönga, while forest produce
and animals may either belong to some nöpa and ajo anyo or may be
living or growing in their vicinity. Thus, villagers must be well aware
of these supernatural owners and providers as well as the location of
their abodes so as to treat them with respect and in order to perform
precise ritual offerings.
Rituals are held by the pawo, the nejum and the bongthing as well as by
the lamas in order to secure the blessings of abundant harvests or in
 the land, its workers, harvests and rituals 191

exchange for taking produce and animals from their rightful supernatu-
ral owner. These rituals are preventive in nature and are usually held
on a regular basis either before the harvest is taken so as to assuage
the wrath of its owner, or after in order to acknowledge its provider.
Rituals of the land, which are performed as a cure when an owner or
provider is thought to have been offended rather than as a preventive
measure, will be addressed in the following chapter.
Today, the most important rituals of the land in Tingchim are biatsi,
the offering of the summer harvest of rice and natsi, the offering of the
winter harvest of wheat; these are individually performed by every single
household without exception. Even those who have migrated to town
but still own land in Tingchim are required to return to the village in
order to perform all the rituals twice a year. These harvest offerings are
also the only recurring occasions where rituals are held successively by
all three types of ritual specialists: the pawo, the bongthing and the lama.
The pawo will make harvest offerings to the pho lha mo lha, the bongthing to
the ajo anyo and other nöpa, while the lama will perform a ritual offering
called Kongso in honour of Chong Gyepo, the tsen considered to be the
custodian of all the harvest rituals in the village. This particular Kongso
is a very localised version and, as we will see, is probably the Buddhist
ritual that has absorbed the most aspects of bon in Tingchim. It is also
the most problematic for the few Tingchim lamas who are trying to
distance themselves from village religion.

Plate 19: Threshing the winter harvest of wheat

192 chapter six

4.1. Harvest offerings by the pawo in honour of the pho lha mo lha
In theory, the performance of the harvest offerings is the responsibil-
ity of the pawo and the nejum, since the pho lha mo lha are their ritual
domain. If the head of the household feels that he has been out of
touch with his pho lha mo lha or if his ancestors or other lineage protec-
tors need to be consulted about a specific issue, the pawo or the nejum
will be asked to perform. However, if interaction with the pho lha mo
lha had recently taken place, for example during a curing ritual, and
if no immediate question needs to be put to them, then the bongthing,
who never gets possessed, will instead be requested to officiate. When
held by the bongthing, the harvest ritual is shorter and less expensive but
when trances are involved, this otherwise simple ritual can turn into
a whole day affair.
Before the harvest offering can start, the ritual specialist will prepare
the rice torma depicting the pho lha mo lha of this particular lineage and
household, and align them according to a prescribed order on a wooden
plateau.24 This know-how will have been passed on to him by the previ-
ous pawo or bongthing and not by the head of this particular household
or lineage. I was told that in the past, the pho lha and the mo lha were
represented on two separate plateaux but were joined some ten years
ago for the sake of expediency and simplicity. A male helper from the
house assists with preparations and the pawo or the bongthing displays
the appropriate offerings of grain, biasu (’bya su’u),25 tsampa, cooked rice,
chang, flowers and butter lamps.
All the rituals performed by the pawo, the nejum or the bongthing are
based on the khelen oral ritual text that will be chanted during the per-
formance. Whether they include trances or not, or whether they are
dedicated to the pho lha mo lha, the nöpa or the ajo anyo, the basic structure
of the rituals remains more or less the same. In brief, the khelen has four
parts: first, there is a short purification of the ritual specialist himself,
followed by the song bon (bsang bon), which is a longer purification of the
location and the offerings through fumigation or the burning of sang
(bsang).26 The core section is the actual invitation called denju ( gdan bzhugs).
Here the pho lha mo lha or the nöpa are individually praised and invited

24
For the names and attributes of the pho lha mo lha see chapter 3. For an example
of pho lha mo lha altar see chapter 11.
25
Biasu are typical Sikkimese snacks made of puffed or flattened rice or maize.
26
Purification and auspicious ritual involving the burning of incense, usually juniper
wood.
 the land, its workers, harvests and rituals 193

to leave their abode in order to come and bless every single offering
displayed for the occasion. This is when the attributes and powers of
each are revealed to or reiterated for present villagers and when the
pawo would become possessed if he was officiating. When addressing
the audience through the medium of the pawo, the pho lha mo lha will
usually express their pleasure over witnessing the performance of the
ritual held in their honour, and may offer some prediction or advice
for the general welfare of the household or the health of one of its
members. Each share of the display of grain, flowers, butter lamps
and chang is then individually offered to them during the tsibul (rtsi ’bul ).
In the final part of the ritual, the lineage protectors and other beings
are then dismissed and given a farewell called shegsö ( gshegs gsol ). They
are asked not to bring any disease to the people living upstairs or to
the cows staying downstairs, nor to provoke fires in the summer and
floods during the rains. No Buddhist elements have been included in
the bongthing’s khelen.27

Plate 20: Harvest altar prepared by the pawo in honour of the pho lha mo lha

27
A similar invocation has been recorded in southern Mustang by Ramble (1998)
where the recitation of the Purang lha bon is strikingly similar to that of the Tingchim
bongthing. The recitation of Purang also has four sections: fumigation, invitation, offer-
ing and dismissal.
194 chapter six

These harvest offerings are mainly a formality, a thank you ritual

for the new harvest where the pho lha mo lha are offered some freshly
harvested grain. The main purpose of the ritual is to maintain good
relations with the pho lha mo lha to ensure that they do not withdraw
their protection but rather keep dispensing their blessings. An invocation
goes: “we are not neglecting to perform the ritual offerings to the pho
lha mo lha, and in turn, you cannot avoid protecting us.” To be on good
terms with them also ensures that they can be relied on and invoked in
time of illness or other moments of crisis throughout the year.

4.2. Harvest offerings by the bongthing in honour of ajo anyo and latsen
The pawo’s ritual offering is followed by that of the bongthing for the ajo
anyo28 and other local nöpa such as the woman of the house’s particular
shang lha or protector, or those with whom household members may
have established a personal relation.29 This second part of the biatsi
natsi rituals has a different altar and set of offerings. Although adopted
as protectors and providers, these nöpa are not members of the pho lha
mo lha. But they are made offerings in the hope of appeasing them
through flattery, pretending to elevate them into the ranks of the pho
lha mo lha.
Ajo Dongbong is the only Lepcha ajo who was assigned a place and
a torma on the altar of the pho lha mo lha as he is particularly famous
and dangerous. The others find their place on the secondary, lower
altar, where they are simply acknowledged as pseudo-pho lha mo lha so
as to keep them contented. Most of the ajo anyo came to these Lhopo
houses a long time ago in order to carry out some curse and in most
cases the circumstances of the curse have been forgotten or were simply
not revealed to me. In the process of being elevated, they are made
into protectors against the same curse that they were sent to imple-
ment. It is thought that they may still occasionally cause the illness they
were originally sent to provoke in which case a series of rituals will be
performed to appease them.

28
For the names and attributes of the ajo and anyo, see chapter 3.
29
For example, there might have been a previous lama in the family who had
adopted a latsen as a personal helper and protector during his meditation retreat held
in the mountains above the village. Such entities may still require to be honoured by
the family long after the death of the practitioner.
 the land, its workers, harvests and rituals 195

The latsen is one of the most important and versatile local super-
natural beings who will be honoured along with the ajo anyo at harvest
time if a protective relation has been established between a particular
latsen and the household in question. The latsen are believed to roam
the high altitude mountain passes from which they get their names.
When invoked during the khelen, the latsen’s many identities are revealed.
Depending on the context in which the ritual is being performed, he
will be regarded as one of the following:
The owner of hunting, the hunt and the gun30
The owner of farming and the crops
The protector of the girls we sent away
The protector of all our sons who were born
The protector of all the knowledgeable monks
The owner of 108 kinds of flowers
The owner of 108 kinds of trees
The owner of 108 springs
The owner of curd and milk
The protector of both pawo and nejum
The latsen is also the main being from whom the current lamas, who
are said to mix bon and Buddhism in their ritual practice, are thought
to obtain their worldly powers. During the harvest rituals, the latsen is
recognised as ‘the owner of farming and the crops’ and along with the
ajo anyo, will be offered some freshly harvested grain by the bongthing.
The ajo anyo and latsen are each represented on the altar, not by rice
torma aligned on a wooden plateau as in the case of the ancestral gods
but by miniature bamboo pots with a straw similar to the ones used
to drink chang. These pots are filled with fermented grain, wrapped in
a piece of banana leaf and decorated with butter in the same way as
the Lepchas do.31 In front of each pot are displayed specific offerings of
rice, boiled eggs,32 biasu, flowers, ginger and butter lamps according to
each ajo anyo’s and latsen’s taste. These labyong offerings are displayed on
a square piece of banana leaf and offered by the chanting of a second
khelen where each being is individually invoked and invited to receive

30
The latsen is also considered the “god of hunt and owner of all mountain-game”
by the Lepchas (Nebesky-Wojkowitz 156: 344, Siiger 1978). Tingchim’s hunters hold
thank you rituals in his honour each time an animal is killed.
31
The Lepchas and the Limbus erect similar altars (Gorer 1987 [1938], Sagant
1996: 378) as well as some Bhutanese (Lham Dorji 2004).
32
On certain occasions, particularly when a ritual is performed to appease an ajo
anyo, a chicken, pork meat or fish may be offered instead of eggs.
196 chapter six

Plate 21: Harvest altar prepared by the bongthing in honour of the ajo anyo

his share of the offerings. The altar and the offering for the ajo anyo and
latsen will be laid slightly lower than that of the pho lha mo lha.
The ajo anyo’s state of semi-wildness is shared by a long list of nöpa
who inhabit the territory, the most feared being Chong Gyepo. Although
the owner of the harvest rituals, he is considered the chief cause of
illness in Tingchim, and as we shall see below, the third in the series of
harvest rituals called Kongso is offered to him by a village lama.

4.3. Harvest offering by the lama in honour of Kabur Kangtsen

In Tingchim, the Kongso33 ritual is an offering to Kabur Kangtsen (Ga
bur gangs btsan), the Great Gyaltsen of Ngaring, usually simply referred
to as Chong Gyepo, or the Northern King. The Kongso had integrated
significant aspects of bon within this otherwise Buddhist performance.
When the Kongso and the Nesol are performed in village houses, the local

33
This local Kongso is not to be confused with the standard Kongso ritual performed
on a daily basis in every Sikkimese monastery in honour of its protectors. This local
version of the Kongso, as far as I am aware, is only performed within the villages of
Tingchim and Namok in North Sikkim. The ritual text itself is hand-written, is only
a few pages long and, as is usually the case, is ascribed to Guru Rinpoche.
 the land, its workers, harvests and rituals 197

nöpa and previous bon ritual specialists of the village are included in
the khelen’s invocation chanted by the lama. Meat is offered to them on
the altar in front of torma that have been dedicated to them, an action
which would not be tolerated within the village’s prayer hall.
The Kongso ritual is only held in the Northern King’s honour at biatsi
and natsi by the many households where he was sent to create prob-
lems by a controversial ritual specialist who died in the 1980s.34 He is
given a harvest ritual in the same way that the ajo anyo are honoured
as pseudo-pho lha mo lha in the hope taming them through flattery by
pretending to elevate them into the ranks of the ancestral gods. But
in the case of the Northern King, not only is he given the honours of
a pho lha as the owner of the harvests, he is also treated as a pseudo-
Buddhist deity and an entire Buddhist ritual is held for him by a village
lama. It is said that most village lamas will perform the Kongso with such
a bargaining idea in mind. Others may take advantage of the ritual
and the help of the tantric deities in order to make a brave attempt
at reforming the Northern King by reminding him of his submission
vow to Guru Rinpoche. But alongside their effort, little pieces of meat
will be offered on the altar and the khelen, which is fundamentally a

34
The Northern King became particularly fierce and feared after he was adopted
by a Tingchim ritual specialist named Be Ajo, and later by his grandson, as his main
protector and helper some time at the end of the nineteenth century. Be Ajo was the
main ritual specialist in Tingchim in the 1910s and the Kongso was the only ‘Buddhist’
ritual within his repertoire, the others being some of the offering rituals of the bongthing
and the pawo that did not require possession. The grandson, like his grandfather, was
very much feared by nearly everyone in Tingchim until he passed away in 1984. He is
particularly remembered for his difficult character and for all the curses that he has left
behind which villagers are still regularly countering until this day. It is believed that the
Northern King was sent by the grandson to cause countless problems to other villagers,
particularly those with whom he was engaged in disputes over land and women, and
is still considered the chief cause of illness in Tingchim. Interestingly, when the Sakya
Lama came to Tingchim in the late 1920s in order to take control of an epidemic (see
chapter 2), he conveniently divined that the spirit of the grandfather Be Ajo, who was
fundamentally a bon ritual specialist, was responsible for all the deaths. Villagers are
afraid even to pronounce the name of the Northern King in case this might attract
his attention and, for this reason, he was never referred to by his real name during
fieldwork but only as the ‘Northern King’. Even the word ‘natsi’ had to be whispered
in case the Northern King heard it and believed that the time for his offering had
come. If no offerings were presented, someone would inevitably fall sick and household
members would then be forced to harvest prematurely in order to perform his harvest
offering ritual. The word biatsi does not carry such a connotation, perhaps because
the harvesting of the winter crop at the beginning of spring occurs in an uncertain
period, when the ripening crops are threatened by hail and will soon put an end to
the winter’s period of food scarcity.
198 chapter six

bon tradition, will be chanted in addition to the written ritual text by

the lama as a precaution.
The presence of this wild mountain god who has forgotten his sub-
mission vows presents an interesting problem. He is a mountain god
who may still, in exceptional circumstances, require the sacrifice of a
goat if thought to be responsible for a patient’s life threatening illness.35
The persistence of his untamed state could only be a reflection of the
untamed state of the villagers themselves. The Northern King had
not been sent to cause harm amongst them by potential enemies who
required to be pacified and converted to Buddhism, but had been sent
against them by one of their own. Lamas such as Lopen Dugyal, who
would normally prefer to stay away from rituals of village religion, only
accepts the performance of the Kongso because the Northern King was
formerly made a Dharma protector. He was only reduced to the level
of nöpa by the sacrificial rituals of Tingchim villagers’ forefathers. It
was thus for Lopen Dugyal an opportunity to contribute to the dis-
semination of Buddhism in the community. But, in the end, Lopen
Dugyal became painfully aware that it is not because a deity becomes
a better Buddhist that the people will necessarily follow his example.
Such transformation has to start with the villagers themselves who
will then ask for a lama to subdue a troublesome being. And it is only
when they permanently refrain from performing blood sacrifices, by
first going through their own ‘subjugation’, that the conversion of local
supernatural beings will follow.
According to Lopen Dugyal and the other lamas with a higher
Buddhist education who rarely partake in these rituals, when village
lamas perform the Kongso without sincerely attempting to reform the
Northern King, these educated lamas will criticise them for partaking
in bon. Village lamas whose ritual practice is mixed are said to be fol-
lowing the nagshang or powerful tantrist’s way. Although no recognised
nagshang exists in Tingchim today, the concept is still very much alive
and the Sesungpa (the village’s weather controller) was often half-jok-
ingly referred to as a nagshang since it is thought that he relied on the
powers of the latsen in order to fulfil his weather-controlling duties.
Despite his ambivalent character, the nagshang is still held in esteem

35
The neighbouring Khumbo of east Nepal also still sacrifice black goats to their
wild mountain god, the heart and entrails of which are then offered to the torma of
the clan and land deities (Diemberger 1997: 264–65).
 the land, its workers, harvests and rituals 199

by the villagers and is still considered, potentially, the most powerful

religious specialist of the village. His powers may be compared to
those of certain high lamas or Rinpoches, with the difference that the
nagshang lacks the moral values that are normally gained through the
study of Buddhist philosophy. Tingchim’s lama head-teacher defined
the nagshang as someone who was excellent in meditation and tantra
but who could also use his powers to kill enemies, send curses and
exorcise evils of all kinds.
In the performance of the Kongso, the lama first prepares three rows
of torma made of rice. On the top shelf are the three main torma rep-
resenting the tantric deities who are to preside over the ritual: Guru
Rinpoche, Guru Dragpo (Gu ru drag po) and Seng Dongma (Seng
gdong ma), generally known as lama yidam khandro.36 These are the deities
the lamas will rely on for their powers and for their own protection while
performing rituals in much the same way that the pawo and the bongth-
ing will rely on the powers of the pho lha mo lha during theirs. On the
middle shelf, torma representing the Northern King and his entourage
of six ministers and assistants are placed. The Northern King himself
is surrounded by five smaller torma representing some degye directly
under his control37 and on the left are the Tsering Che-nga (Tshe ring
mched lnga) the five celestial female deities. On the lower shelf is a row
of twelve little torma representing various degye in front of which small
pieces of dried meat are placed. An offering of milk is placed in front
the Tsering Che-nga and a bowl of pressed chang, a bamboo pot full of
fermented grain, and a bowl of black tea as a substitute for blood are
placed immediately below the altar. A plate of grain and biasu made
from the new harvest is placed even lower down.
The lama proceeds with the Kongso as soon as the altar is ready by
first invoking the three tantric deities presiding over the ritual. In a
prayer, the lama requests the deities’ blessings in order to help him

36
In the centre is Guru Rinpoche as its outer manifestation; on the right is Guru
Dragpo, the inner manifestation and wrathful form of Guru Rinpoche; and on the
left is Seng Dongma (lion face), the secret manifestation of Dorje Pamo (rDo rje dpa’
mo), Guru Rinpoche’s consort. Together, they are known as lama yidam khandro (bla ma,
yi dam, mkha’ ’gro). As lama, Guru Rinpoche dispenses blessings; as yidam, Guru Dragpo
dispenses powers; and as khandro, Seng Dongma gives protection. These manifestations
of Guru Rinpoche are represented on both Nyingma and Kagyud altars in the rituals
of village lamas in Sikkim.
37
These are the za owner of epilepsy, the lu who bring skin diseases as well as a
smaller gyepo, a dü and a mamo.
200 chapter six

take control of the Northern King and other troubling nöpa. Through
meditation and visualisation, the lama is supposed to identify himself
and transform his body into Guru Dragpo, the wrathful form of Guru
Rinpoche. While emanating the powerful qualities of the yidam, the lama
is to summon the Northern King and return him on the right path
of the Dharma from which he is thought to have temporarily strayed.
During the chanting of the ritual text, the Northern King is invoked,
praised and reminded of the solemn oath he swore in ancient times
before Guru Rinpoche to be protector of the faith and refrain from
causing harm to sentient beings.
The power of a lama is measured by his ability to meditate, visualise
and invoke the powers of the yidam for the benefit of others. For villag-
ers, this will immediately be reflected in the alleviation of suffering and
obstacles in their lives, for which the lama will be remunerated with
money and offerings. To obtain such powers, lamas have to meditate,
practise and study for many years. Village lamas are married farmers
with few surplus resources allowing them to practise for such long
periods. Thus, Lopen Dugyal and other lamas like him concluded that
some village lamas, instead of invoking the powers of the yidam, alleg-
edly invoke the powers of worldly nöpa as an easy short cut to obtain

Plate 22: The Sesung Gomchen performing the Kongso harvest ritual
 the land, its workers, harvests and rituals 201

the powers that would make them into successful healers. Such a view
fails to recognise that the village lamas’ practice, however unorthodox
it may seem, is only the latest phase of an ongoing encounter between
bon and Buddhism which must have evolved in Tingchim over many
decades if not centuries. Today’s village lamas who are thought to be
following the nagshang’s way are, before anything else, the descendants of
the nagshang of the past who must have had their own encounters with
lamas and Rinpoches as well as powerful pawo, nejum and Lepcha bongth-
ings from which their practice has gradually developed. Their current
encounter with conventional Buddhism is only the latest episode of an
old relation, an example of which will be given below when discussing
the art of the Sesung Gomchen, the village’s weather controller, who is
one of the lamas who is said to be following the nagshang’s way.
Returning to the performance of the Kongso, the reading of the text
is followed by fumigation and by the chanting of the khelen where the
Northern King and all the nöpa specific to the area as well as the previous
bon ritual specialists of the village are addressed. The khelen chanted by
the lama as part of the Kongso is an oral text which has not been written
down and is locally perceived as a bon tradition. Although its chanting
has been integrated into both the local versions of the Nesol and Kongso,
reciting it is still problematic for the orthodox lamas since it honours
local nöpa and bon ritual specialists. The previous abbot of Phodong
monastery has tried to discourage his student-lamas from performing the
Nesol and the Kongso when they return to the village. Honouring worldly
supernatural beings and previous bon ritual specialists by chanting the
khelen means ‘coming under their feet’ and, once under their authority,
the lama is said to lose his chance of being enlightened. Village lamas
who engage in these ritual practices are thought to be joining the path
of the nagshang, a path that does not lead to enlightenment but only to
the worldly paradises of bon. In Tingchim, such moral dilemmas only
concern a few lamas such as the head-teacher, Tsam Khang Ajo and
Lopen Dugyal, who justify their reluctance by saying that it establishes
a dangerous link between the person making the offering and the local
nöpa which might later cause difficulties for the lama after his death, at
which point the nöpa might even attempt to kidnap his soul. Neverthe-
less, these three lamas will still chant the khelen, but only after they have
satisfied themselves of having sincerely performed its first part where
the nöpa are reminded of their submission vows.
202 chapter six

The oral khelen chanted by a lama during the Kongso is a simplified

version of the khelen recited by the bongthing.38 The lama’s khelen starts
with an invocation to Amitābha, Avalokiteśvara and Guru Rinpoche,
which is followed by that of Kangchendzönga as the owner of the high
mountains, Yabdü as the owner of the valleys and Pawo Humri as the
owner of the midlands, the latter three being included in all the khelen I
came across in Sikkim. The invocation continues with the supernatural
beings specific to the ritual at hand, in this case the Northern King, the
mountain god of Kabur, along with his retinue of ministers and degye
under his control. Then, a series of sixteen local nöpa ranking below the
Northern King, from those residing in the general North Sikkim region
down to the ones living closer to the village and the house are invoked
by name and chang is individually offered to each. The last sections where
offerings are made to the previous nagshang and pawo of the village is
usually omitted by the more conventional Buddhist-minded lamas if
the sponsor or other villagers are not present in the altar room when
performing the ritual. This invocation pattern or gradual zooming in
on the location where the ritual is being held has also been observed
by Ramble (1996: 143–45) among the Nyingma priests of the village of
Te in southern Mustang and by Diemberger (1997: 264) as a detailed
way to draw an imaginary map of the local territory.
After the khelen, the lama then resumes the chanting of the Kongso
written text for the offering of the degye serkyem (sde brgyad gser skyems).
The serkyem (libation) prepared for degye is a mixture of chang, tea, milk,
sugar, flour, biasu and meat—the serkyem for higher deities only contains
tea or milk. The lama’s helper stands at the window and throws ladles
of serkyem outside, each time shouting ‘lha so lo! ’ (offer to god) as the
lama reads from the text the name of general degye, who are less specific
to the immediate region than those offered during the oral khelen. This
is followed by a general tsog (tshogs)39 offering read from the text where
the newly harvested grain made into biasu are offered to and blessed
by the three deities presiding over the ritual and by the Northern King.
The tsog is followed by a general apology made by the lama on behalf
of the sponsors for any wrongdoing performed against the three deities

38
The translations of the bongthing’s and of the lama’s khelen chanted in honour
of the Northern King are not included here and will be the subject of a subsequent
article on the khelen and its various forms in Sikkim.
39
After being offered and blessed by the deities, the offered grain or tsog will be
distributed and eaten by members of the household in much the same way as the
prasād of the Hindus.
 the land, its workers, harvests and rituals 203

Plate 23: All three altars: the lama’s on the left, the bongthing’s in the middle
and the pawo’s on the right

and the Northern King, since the ritual is also performed in order to
purify the polluting drib caused by wrong actions that greatly disturb the
local nöpa under their control. The ritual is concluded with a farewell
to all deities.
The harvest rituals as they are successively performed by the pawo,
the bongthing and the lama in Tingchim, are now a rare occurrence in
Sikkim. I was told that in West Sikkim, the harvest rituals for the pho
lha mo lha and the ajo anyo have been incorporated into a Buddhist ritual
called Gyesö (rGyal gsol ) performed by a single lama in honour of the
five manifestations of Pehar (rGyal po sku lnga). The ancestral gods
and the ajo anyo have their own altar next to that of the Buddhist dei-
ties where they are presented with their separate offerings—including
small river fish—by the officiating lama in the course of a single ritual.
Some decades ago, when Lhopo pawo were still regularly performing in
West Sikkim, the Gyesö was followed by the pawo’s possession ritual that
would continue through the night. Variations of this ritual are today
performed all over Sikkim.40

40
For example, the Gyesö that I witnessed in Gangtok, had its bon aspects assimilated
by Buddhism to the point that the separate altars for the ancestral gods and the ajo anyo
204 chapter six

4.4. Protecting the harvest: the Sesung Gomchen and the controlling of hail
The Sesung Gomchen (Ser bsrung sgom chen—‘hail protector great
practitioner’), the most enigmatic lama in Tingchim, has no other
responsibility but that of controlling the weather and protecting the
ripening crops of thirteen surrounding villages against hail, something
he has been doing for twenty-five years. He dresses as a lama, lives
somewhat in retreat above the village with his wife and two sons and is
both respected and feared by the villagers. He does not work in the fields
and, for his livelihood, depends on the biannual donations of farmers
made after the winter and summer harvests, and the occasional dona-
tions received for divination and the performance of rituals in village
houses. The Sesung Gomchen did not inherit his ritual knowledge and
skills through his own patrilineage but from an accomplished Gomchen
of Khampa origin who used to meditate and control the weather from
his abode above Tingchim. The Sesung Gomchen is from the pawo’s
family. His father was Ajo Pawo, his mother is the present nejum and
his younger brother is the present pawo.41
For his services, every single Lhopo household in Tingchim must give
him between three and six kilos of grain and one kilo of cardamom
over the year. The landless tenants of Nepalese origin in Tingchim and
Mangshila must give him Rs 5, and the land-owning Limbus of Mang-
shila Rs 15. The first donations from the more distant Lhopo villages
are collected and brought to him by their respective representatives
on the third day of the third lunar month, around April-May. These
donations from distant villages are not fixed: they consist of wheat,
barley, arak, chang and tsampa and are intended for the protection of
the crops against the spring hail which can cause heavy damage until
May. Then again, after the harvest in the fall, he is given rice and

had vanished. Only two ajo had been included among the subjects surrounding the main
Buddhist deities presiding over the ritual (rGyal po sku lnga), while the ancestral gods
were entirely absent. Since this particular family had been settled in town for many
decades, the identity of their pho lha mo lha had been forgotten as is usually the case
with urban Lhopos who have lost touch with their rural past. Instead, dö or thread-
cross offerings were prepared and offered to the supernatural beings of importance in
Gangtok. Despite these changes, the chanting of the khelen along with the invocation
of the supernatural beings of the land including Dzönga by the lama remained.
41
There are other weather controllers in Sikkim: I was told that there is one in
Gangyap in West Sikkim, another in Tsaong some twenty kilometres south of Tingchim,
and others in the Lepcha village of Lingthem (Dzongu), as well as in Barmiok in
South Sikkim.
 the land, its workers, harvests and rituals 205

cardamom for having stopped the rains and protected the crops. He
holds his main annual Nesol ritual for all the deities of the land on the
fifteenth of the first lunar month, at which point Tingchim villagers
are again expected to contribute rice and chang. His services are also
in demand among contractors and politicians in order to ensure clear
skies for important building works or political events. He is consulted
for general divination and people will come and see him for any of
his abilities from as far away as Tolung in the North to Gangtok and
Rumtek in East Sikkim.42
He is said to have been a very good Buddhist practitioner in his youth
and is generally well intentioned towards villagers who both respect
and admire him as a unique kind of ritual specialist. Although he only
comes fourth in the hierarchy of Tingchim’s lamas, when he visits the
Phodong monastery, he is always given the honours of a high lama.
Sikkimese have great respect and admiration for their gomchen who are
usually non-conformists and somewhat extraordinary, each in their own
way. Whatever unsociable or unorthodox behaviour they might get up
to is usually excused by the simple fact of being a gomchen. For example,
the previous Lachen Gomchen is said to have behaved outrageously,
from sending thunder storms to people who failed to respect him, to
making love to any girl he wished to along the village paths. People
might have hid away from him but never dared to contradict him. In
Tingchim, when the Limbus of Mangshila refused to pay their annual
contribution towards hail-stopping a few years ago, saying that they
didn’t believe in the Sesung Gomchen’s practice, people said he made
sure to send the hail directly and only into their fields when the rice
was just about to ripen. They promptly apologised and never failed to
pay their contribution again.
Lopen Dugyal believes that the Sesung Gomchen obtains some
of his weather controlling powers from Latsen Bagchia and Tsher-
ing Dolma (Tshe ring sgrol ma—a female latsen), and no longer from

42
The Sesung Gomchen passed away a few months after I left the village at the age
of fifty-three although I refer to him in the text as if he were still alive. During field-
work, I did not have many opportunities to interview or observe the Sesung Gomchen’s
rituals. His health and general attitude towards his work and practice had apparently
declined in recent years. He was among the poorest families of the village and, unlike
most children, both of his did not go to school. He had been Lopen Dugyal’s first
teacher and it was under his supervision that Dugyal did his first retreat of tantric
preliminary practice (sngon ’gro). The little I know about him was for the most part
related to me by Lopen Dugyal.
206 chapter six

high Buddhist deities, which is the reason Lopen Dugyal gives for the
Gomchen’s decline. In his youth, the Sesung Gomchen had done the
tantric preliminary practice (sngon ’gro) twice, the first time according to
the Kagyud school and the second according to the Nyingma school.
Tsam Khang Ajo was his Nyingma teacher under whom he did the
Vajrapā i43 practice, which involved reciting the deity’s mantra over
two million one hundred thousand times (twenty-one lakhs), before
he even got involved in weather controlling. He later did the practice
of the Garu a since the latter is believed to rule the lu responsible for
producing rain and hail. Nowadays, he only spends three months a
year, from March until May, in part-time meditation retreat. Having
spent extended periods of time in his company in the past, Lopen
Dugyal had the chance of observing his performance of the weather
controlling rituals, which are always performed outside, somewhere in
the forest above the village, at any time of the day or night.
His usual ritual instruments are the rosary ( phreng), which he holds
in his left hand, the kamshing (khram shing), a plain wooden palette with
a handle without any carvings or inscriptions, which he holds in his
right hand and alternates with the holding of a long sword called
patong (dpa’ stong). If the work at hand is particularly difficult and dan-
gerous, he will make use of the mikang (mi rkang), the human tibia used
as a trumpet. In extreme situations, he will use a carved ox horn (thun
dung) filled with white mustard seed ( yungs dkar), blessed by the power
of the mantra, that he will throw around. During the ritual itself, he
invokes the help and powers of the Garu a and Tamdin (rTa mgrin)
as he asks the rain and hail-making lu to change the weather. He will
also invoke Dzönga as the head of all nöpa in Sikkim and make direct
offerings to local tsen and lu as well as regular offerings of fumigation
to Latsen Bagchia.
Some people say that he will sometimes perform ‘Buddhist’ rituals
without even invoking the high Buddhist deities and perform them
solely for his worldly protectors and the nöpa under their control. But
such unorthodox rituals are not perceived by villagers in the same way
as they would be by lamas such as Lopen Dugyal. In most villagers’
minds, when the khelen is chanted as part of the Kongso or Nesol, the high
Buddhist deities are somewhat irrelevant and the offerings are intended

43
Vajrapā i (Phyag na rdo rje) ‘is a fierce emanation of the Buddha and represents
powerful and, if necessary, destructive action’ (Samuel 1993: 282).
 the land, its workers, harvests and rituals 207

as a bribe for the worldly nöpa. Villagers are aware that the Sesung
Gomchen depends on the powers of some nöpa whom he entertains as
his protectors. Nevertheless, no villager is entitled to judge a gomchen’s
practice and he remains one of the most powerful and respected ritual
specialists in Tingchim; most will consult him for his divination and
ritual powers when the matter becomes particularly serious. Like the
half-subdued deities of the land, he could be perceived, from the Bud-
dhist perspective, as a half-subdued ritual specialist who, in the end,
is only the reflection of the state of belief of the villagers’ themselves.
And as Lopen Dugyal fatalistically concluded, it is only when someone
dies that the question of merit and sin arises, and in the meantime, the
village’s ritual specialists can only do their best to help relieve people
of their sufferings.

4.5. The Nesol: ritual of the land par excellence

In chapter 3, the idea of Sikkim as a sacred hidden land or beyul was
introduced as well as the Nesol ritual which is a celebration of Sikkim as
a beyul and an offering ritual to Kangchendzönga and all the deities of
the land. There are different versions of this ritual in existence and the
lengthiest will be performed by the lamas of Pemayangtse monastery,
the premier monastery of Sikkim located in Demojong, where the chief
protective deities of the land are said to reside. An important differ-
ence between this lengthier version and the shorter one as performed
in Tingchim, is the fact that its khelen, which is fundamentally an oral
bon tradition, has been standardised and recorded in written form thus
giving it an aura of sanctity and orthodoxy, and perhaps of political
authority. The habitats of the supernatural beings invoked are all located
within the original boundaries of Sikkim and the text thus defines Sik-
kimese political territory, that which is protected by Kangchendzönga as
dablha warrior god and Yabdü as the southern gatekeeper.44 There used
to be a written version of the khelen which was part of the Nesol text as
performed in Tingchim, but this was rejected by Tingchim lamas as
unsatisfactory, probably because it wasn’t sufficiently specific in that it
did not include the nöpa inhabiting Tingchim’s surrounding area.

44
See Ramble 1995 and 1996 for the performance of serkyem libation rituals and
the invocation of the supernatural beings of the territory in the political definition of
the Kingdom of Lo.
208 chapter six

Whenever the lamas of Tingchim gather at the village’s prayer

hall in order to celebrate the important days of the Tibetan Buddhist
calendar, the Nesol will be performed at some point during the morn-
ing session, whatever main ritual text is also being read on that day.
In such cases, two altars will be prepared, each with their respective
set of torma; the higher one for the Buddhist deities of the main ritual
and a lower, smaller one for Dzönga and the other deities of the Nesol.
It will only be performed on its own as a preventive ritual within the
village’s prayer hall, when someone from the village returns from an
important pilgrimage and wishes to apologise to the deities of the land
in case any polluting or disturbing actions may have been performed
by the pilgrim while visiting powerful sacred places.
The Nesol will be performed in private houses whenever lamas are
called to hold a major ritual, for example at weddings, as part of the
rituals performed during funerals, when a new house has been com-
pleted, or whenever a household wishes to offer a tsog ritual during
the winter for its general welfare and prosperity. Usually, however, the
Nesol is performed on its own in private houses as a curing ritual, when
someone is ill and a ritual specialist has recommended it as a cure. In
such cases, the khelen will specifically invoke, in addition to Dzönga and
the usual supernatural beings of the land, the specific nöpa who has
been identified as the cause of the ailment, and little pieces of meat
previously obtained from the butcher will be presented on the altar.
In the household performance of the Nesol, the top shelf of the altar
is identical to that of the Kongso (see above) with lama yidam khandro, the
three tantric deities presiding over the ritual. On the next lower shelf
is a row of ten smaller torma representing the Dharma protectors and
the higher territorial deities of Sikkim such as Kangchendzönga who
do not reside near Tingchim but, for the most part, have their abode
in the sacred area of Demojong in West Sikkim.45 On the left of these
ten torma are the Tsering Che-nga, the five celestial female deities. In a
third lower row in front of them are twenty smaller torma representing
named and un-named nöpa46 including one for Ajo Dongbong, the leg-

45
From left to right, the ten torma of this middle shelf stand for: Rab ldan rtsi’i rdzong
btsan, dgra lha, ma bdud, mDzod lnga, Yab bdud, Klung bskyed, brTan ma bcu gnyis, dGra bgegs
log ’dren flanked by a gza’, rDzong ri rdzing btsan, and rGyal po sku lnga flanked by a gnod
sbyin.
46
From left to right, the name of the twenty torma are: Gar stabs, btsan, klu, lha, bdud,
gnod sbyin, ma mo, Ajo Dongbong, gshin rje, sNgags ’chang gnyen, Dri za mgo leb, Ma mo shog
gnyis, ’Byung po the’u brang, yul lha, Sa bdag rgya yol, klu, bdud, ma mo, and gnod sbyin.
 the land, its workers, harvests and rituals 209

endary Lepcha bongthing and interestingly, another torma for all previous
nagshang of the village who best symbolise the encounter between bon
and Buddhism at the village level. Their presence on this lowest shelf
is unique to this ritual in Tingchim and on no other Buddhist altar
have I come across such an open assimilation of bon with the exception
of the Gyesö (see footnote 40) ritual I attended in Gangtok where Ajo
Dongbong had equally been assimilated on a Buddhist altar (rGyal po
sku lnga). Further, the representation of religious specialists in the shape
of torma on the altar is very much a bon tradition which can best be
observed on the altar of the pho lha mo lha. Looking at the Nesol altar
and its inherent hierarchy, the top row represents the tantric deities
who stand for Buddhism’s highest and purest form, which from the
villager’s point of view, is best understood and dealt with by learned
lamas and Rinpoches. The second row of torma for the local deities and
protectors of Sikkim as a whole are associated with the village lamas,
since they are the most important and tangible high deities of the land
from a Sikkimese villager’s perspective. The lowest row, representing
the worldly and ambivalent nöpa, although mentioned in Buddhist texts
as degye, are still, from the villagers’ point of view, the domain of the
bon ritual specialists who are themselves present on the altar as Ajo
Dongbong and the symbolic nagshang.
When Sikkim was still a kingdom, the Nesol and its khelen were asso-
ciated with Pang Lhabsol, the national ritual of the land which used to
be held at the Palace chapel in Gangtok, and simultaneously in every
monastery and village prayer hall throughout the kingdom (see chap-
ter 10). In Tingchim, as in all other villages in Sikkim, Pang Lhabsol
was observed by first sending a representative with offerings of chang
or the first fruit of the harvest (thog gsar) to the Chogyal. This offering
became part of the tsog for the rituals that involved a large number of
monks over several days. In exchange, the representative was fed and
sent back with a maund (40 kg) of salt for the village. Offerings were
also sent to the Phodong monastery where rituals were being held.
Back home in the village, Pang Lhabsol was celebrated at the village’s
prayer hall with one person from each family attending the ritual and
the festivities. On that day, the lamas performed the Nesol as part of
chirim, the only ritual performed for the welfare of the community as
a whole where both lamas and bongthing officiated simultaneously for a
common ritual goal.
210 chapter six

Plate 24: The Nesol altar

4.6. Other harvest and hunting rituals

Before the cardamom harvest can start, villagers with neighbouring fields
will ask the bongthing to perform the yulchö ritual for Lenji Anyo and the
particular nöpa owner of the land where the cardamom is growing in
exchange for the harvest. Lenji Anyo is a Lepcha anyo considered the
grandmother and owner of the cardamom plant. There may be two
or even up to ten villagers sponsoring an offering ritual as a group,
depending on the number of neighbouring field owners. A goat or a
chicken will be offered by the bongthing depending on the identity and
inclinations of the nöpa owner of that particular piece of land. The
ritual is attended by a member of each field-owning family and is not
only meant as an exchange for the harvest, but also as an apology in
anticipation of the noise, unpleasant smells, cutting of wood and general
disturbances which the harvesting team will inevitably generate.
 the land, its workers, harvests and rituals 211

We have seen that Tingchim’s three regular hunters perform a ritual

in the forest each time an animal has been killed whereby particular
pieces of meat are offered to the hunter’s latsen who acts as his personal
supernatural helper and protector during the hunt. In this case, the latsen
is not the owner of the wild animals but is worshipped as the ‘owner of
the hunting, the hunt and the gun’. Thanks to the help of his particular
latsen, of which there may be more than one, the hunter and consumers
of the meat will not suffer the consequences of having taken it from its
nöpa owner as long as the hunter first offers the correct share to all the
latsen who helped and protected him against the dangers of the forest. I
was told that the youngest hunter was unsuccessful until he was taught
by Ajo Bongthing how to perform this ritual. Ajo Bongthing had learnt
it from a Lepcha bongthing from Dzongu, and today Tingchim’s hunters
are said to perform it in order to increase their chances of catching
the most prized animal, the barking deer.
Immediately after killing the animal, the hunter will perform the
ritual in a hut or other secluded place where no one will be able to
hear or see him perform it. No hunting rituals are ever performed at
home. First, I was told that the head and the four limbs of the animal
are cut and displayed around a leaf that represents the body of the
animal. Small pieces from the entrails are mixed and arranged in little
piles directly on the leaf, one pile for each of the latsen the hunter may
have to thank. The offering ritual is whispered so that no one may
hear the name of his latsen. It is said that if the ritual was not properly
performed, consuming the meat would make people sick in which case
the hunter would have to return to the forest in order to perform a
second ritual.
It should be mentioned here that the killing of wild animals as a
wrong action is perceived differently in Buddhism and in bon. According
to Buddhism, the taking of any life is considered sinful while in bon, it
is the taking of wild animals from their nöpa owners or removing them
from the jungle rather than the taking of their lives which is perceived
as being wrong. The same principle applies to the cardamom harvest
which, as we have seen, first needs to be ritually exchanged with Lenji
Anyo and other nöpa land owners before the harvesting can begin. For
this reason, either something is directly given in exchange to the super-
natural owner, or as in the case of the latsen, a more powerful being is
invoked as an intermediary in order to deal with all the various nöpa
owners on behalf of the hunter.
212 chapter six

4.7. Losung: the farmer’s New Year

Losung, the Sikkimese farmer’s New Year, is celebrated after the harvests
in December when the fields are resting and villagers have plenty to
eat and time to celebrate. During the time of the kingdom, Losung was
as much a ritual of the household, the village, the Phodong Estate and
the kingdom. It was the ultimate celebration of the land’s fertility, with
special foods and drinks abundantly consumed and offerings of grain
made to the Phodong monastery and the Palace chapel where impor-
tant end-of-year rituals were held. In the mid-1960s, the 16th Karmapa
encouraged Tingchim villagers to change their New Year celebrations
from Losung to Losar, the Tibetan New Year or the New Year of the
kings (rgyal po lo gsar) held later in February. Following the Karmapa’s
intervention, elaborate Buddhist offering rituals were then held around
Losung and New Year festivities were held later on in February at Losar.
Before this change took place, Losung was celebrated in the following
way within the village’s households.
On the 27–28th of the tenth lunar month, house and clothes were
thoroughly cleaned. On the 29th, all households performed a ritual
whereby the negativities of the past year were called into a black torma
and driven out of the house. A meal followed. On the 30th, the house
and the hearth were purified by sang fumigation; on the first day of
the New Year, family members remained at home, wore new clothes
and ate a special bread made of buckwheat, millet and rice. From the
2nd, relatives and villagers visited each other with gifts of khabze (kha
zas—deep-fried biscuits), eating, drinking and dancing in each other’s
houses until the 15th. From the 2nd until the 10th, villagers put on
plays where religious stories, historical dramas and farces were acted
out. Besides the household ritual held on the 29th when the negativities
of the past year were driven out of the house, no other rituals were
held in the village’s prayer hall or village houses at that time.
Losung was and still is a time for gift exchange with the Nepalese
tenant farmers. These will come to their Tingchim landowner’s house
with a bottle of milk or arak, and will be treated to a special meal with
large quantities of meat and chang, and will return the hospitality by
bringing a gift of mutton and arak at Dasain. I was told by Yap T.S.
Gyaltsen (Tateng Kaji) that on his estate, his Lhopo and Lepcha tenants
used to bring him chang, rice, fruit and meat and the norm was for the
kaji to then return double the amount in kind, money or clothes. The
tenants’ entire families were then entertained for a day with food and
 the land, its workers, harvests and rituals 213

drinks and could even spend the night in the kaji’s house.47 Nepalese
tenants brought their gifts of mutton and arak at Dasain which the kaji
then returned in the form of meat, chang and zhero (bzhes ro—large
crispy biscuits made of rice flour) at Losung. The kaji’s gift had to be
slightly more expensive than what he had received. These traditions
varied from one region to another. In Gangtok today, this system of
gift exchange has been expanded and adapted to the urban setting.
For example, a wealthy urban Lhopo family will produce a very large
quantity of khabze snacks, which will be distributed at Losung to their rela-
tives, friends, tenants and labourers whether Lhopo, Lepcha, Tibetan,
Nepalese or Indian. The latter will then return a gift either at Losung,
Losar, Dasain or Diwali.
Before these village celebrations of Losung, end of year rituals called
loshi gurim (lo gcig sku rim—‘the ninth ritual of the end of the year’) were
and are still being held at the Phodong monastery during the last ten
days of the year (see chapter 10). The lamas hold a ten-day ritual in
honour of Mahākāla and perform cham dances on the last two. On this
occasion, each household within the Phodong area sends a handful of
mixed grain from its fields to the monastery, which are placed on the
plateau supporting the main Mahākāla torgyap. The torgyap is physically
thrown by the lamas along with all the collected grain, in order to send
Mahākāla to ‘war’ against the enemies of, respectively, the Dharma,
the monastery, the Phodong area and its farming population. The loshi
gurim is meant as a preventive ritual for the six villages of what used
to be the Phodong Estate, and Mahākāla is expected to protect all
the households that have contributed grain during the coming year.
Losung celebrations in the village houses then begin on the first day of
the year, or the first day of the eleventh month of the lunar calendar,
which corresponds to the winter solstice.

47
Stein has noted the existence of a similar custom in Tibet: “[t]he ‘Farmer’s New
Year’ is nowadays only celebrated by villagers and, in certain towns like Shigatse, by
people who own fields. It is distinguished by a remarkable custom. For some days serv-
ants do no work, but are richly dressed and treated with respect by their masters, who
present them with offerings and treat them to parties and carousals. As in the carnivals
of ancient China, the world is turned upside down to mark the uncertain interval or
crossing from the old year to the new. We are reminded in the fact that in the cycle
of cosmic periods (kalpa), the end of our present age is also to be marked by a turning
upside down of society’s established structures, and in particular that servants will rule
over their masters” (1972: 213).
214 chapter six

Ensuring the continuous fertility of the land and the protection of the
harvest are central aspects of village religion. These concerns for fertil-
ity and prosperity have provided a platform for both bon and Buddhist
ritual specialists to independently perform complementary rituals in a
non-competitive way. Although all may perceive and treat the deities
of the land in their own way, the khelen is chanted when bon and Bud-
dhist ritual specialists are celebrating or propitiating the blessing of
the supernatural beings of the land whether in village houses, at the
village’s prayer hall, at the monastery and, during the old days, at the
Palace chapel. The lamas will invoke the higher deities of the land as
part of the Nesol, Gyesö and Kongso rituals where tantric deities preside
over the altar; the pawo will invoke them as part of his invocations for
the ancestral gods; the bongthing as part of his own offering ritual for
the ajo anyo and other nöpa, and the Sesung Gomchen and the hunters
when invoking their personal helpers and protectors. Whatever ritual
is being performed, all will chant the khelen in honour of the deities
of the land.
The khelen has emerged, at least in Tingchim and possibly everywhere
in Sikkim, as the common ritual practice, not only of bon and Bud-
dhism but also of the Lhopo and Lepcha communities. Chie Nakane
correctly argued—at least for those communities centred around a
monastery—that the unity of the local Lepchas and Bhutias (Lhopos)
is preserved by the monastery where lamas from both ethnic groups
form a common world (1966: 250). To this we could add that the khelen
along with the rituals of the land for the ajo anyo form a common ritual
ground for all of Sikkim’s original communities: the Lepchas, the Lhopos
and most probably the Tsongs.
As we shall see in later chapters, village religion is also specifically
concerned with ensuring the prosperity, fertility and longevity of house-
hold members, the patrilineage, the village, the Phodong Estate and
the kingdom. But rituals of the land nevertheless hold a prominent
position in village religion as they seem to cut across all aspects of vil-
lage life. Through the various land rituals, villagers relate to their past
and ancestral gods who then ensure the prosperity of the household
and the lineage by providing abundant harvests; they relate to the
supernatural beings of the region who ensure the general prosperity
of the village and the Phodong area as a whole; they relate to their
Lepcha neighbours by honouring the ajo anyo who own cardamom, the
most important produce of nature; they relate to the sacred locations,
the history of the land and the major protectors who ensure the peace
 the land, its workers, harvests and rituals 215

and prosperity of the state; and during the time of the kingdom, they
related to the centres of administration and power.
Today, rituals of the land are also an expression of their well-rooted
and long-term relation with the soil. Now that intra-village social ties
of economic exchange have been largely replaced by those to Nepalese
tenants and Indian merchants, rituals of the land provide them with
an important avenue for social exchanges within the village, which
bind them together in the face of an increasing number of powerful
outsiders. In turn, rituals of the land inevitably contribute to maintain
the villagers’ shamanic worldview to which Buddhism keeps adapt-
ing itself as it did in the past when the first missionary lamas entered
the valley. This relation with the land, its harvests, deities and sacred
locations, is probably the most important aspect of culture left to the
Lhopo community, along with their language and rites of passage, to
define themselves as a community.
 CHAPTER SEVEN

THE LAND, ITS PROBLEMS AND RITUAL SOLUTIONS

This chapter addresses cases of illness and misfortune that find their
root in problems related to the economic and sacred aspects of the land
and its resources. The first section is concerned with the ritual treat-
ment of disputes arising between non-relatives, and between members
of different ethnic communities, over questions of land ownership, the
most common source of dispute among people all over Sikkim—land
boundary disputes between relatives are addressed in chapter 9. It
suggests the way in which land disputes are related to accusations of
poisoning, witchcraft and the sending of curses. The second section
looks at the consequences of polluting or destroying objects of nature
within the village and how these are perceived locally and cured ritually.
In the last section, we leave the village in order to discuss the case of
what was perceived to be a wrongdoing perpetrated against the sacred
land that acquired state-level proportions. The successful protest move-
ment against the construction of a hydro-electric power station on the
sacred Rathong Chu river at Yuksum in West Sikkim was instigated by
a group of urban Lhopo activists. The basic arguments and methods
used against the project were continuous with village beliefs, and ritual,
along with ‘modern’ methods of political and legal struggle, played a
central role in the unfolding of the campaign.
We have seen in chapter 4 that illness may be brought about by a
variety of causes. Although the cases of illness and misfortune discussed
in this chapter are thought to be provoked by offended nöpa or through
witchcraft, poisoning and cursing, one shouldn’t forget that these are
only some of the causes that may be cited. Nor should we conclude
from these examples that villagers’ relations with the nöpa are limited
to illness and misfortune. It was stressed in chapter 4 that villagers may
relate to the supernatural beings of the land in a number of ways and
that the latter may be perceived not only as agents of misfortune but
also as protectors and providers. In the same chapter, the concept of drib
(pollution) generated by wrongdoing was introduced as an articulating
agent between the social, physical and supernatural worlds. When mo
divination reveals that an illness was caused by a nöpa, the ritual specialist
 the land, its problems and ritual solutions 217

must uncover the motivation for the act. If it isn’t a case of witchcraft,
poisoning or cursing where the nöpa would have been instructed by an
enemy to cause the ailment, the nöpa would have been incited to inflict
the disease because of the presence of drib generated by the patient’s
or someone else’s wrongdoing.
The cycle of illness prompted by wrongdoing can also be read as
an expression of Tingchim villagers’ apprehension about threatening
agents, although this reading is my interpretation of what the villag-
ers accept as the relation between illness and wrong action. A threat
would appear to be any destabilising or menacing factor at the root
of a conflict, tension or disorder that undermines the survival of the
person, the kin group, the village or the ethnic community. The threat-
ening agent, whether another kin member, a villager, an outsider or the
patient himself, will be uncovered by a ritual specialist in the course
of divining the cause of illness. In this way, the agent can be blamed,
not only directly for his unacceptable behaviour, but also indirectly for
the disorder, competition or insecurity it engenders. In this chapter,
we look at such cases, and the threatening agents to which they point,
where the wrong action has been performed against the sacred land
and its products.
The concept of beyul or sacred hidden land was introduced in
chapter 3 along with the Nesol, the most important ritual of the land,
which condemns the cutting down of trees, the polluting of lakes, and
the destruction of hills, rocks and cliffs. Because of its sacred quality,
the natural environment becomes a platform upon which threatening
agents may reveal themselves through their performance of wrong
actions against it, or what appear to be wrong actions according to
Lhopo values. This may occur, for example, in the context of compe-
tition for natural resources with Nepalese settlers or in the context of
environmental degradation caused by construction work undertaken
by the Government.

1. Land and other disputes with non-relatives and outsiders

Issues of land ownership and field boundaries are the most common
source of disputes among Lhopo relatives and non-relatives alike.
When relatives have a dispute over a question of land, as we will see
in chapter 9, their common pho lha mo lha are the supernatural beings
invoked to help resolve the conflict. These either stand as witnesses to
218 chapter seven

a mutually acceptable agreement, are invoked as supernatural judges in

order to punish the wrongdoer, or are sent to cause trouble in the other
person’s household if things really get out of hand—although disputes
between close relatives rarely reach such proportions. On the other
hand, disputes over land, debt, theft or power between non-relatives or
between Lhopos from different villages, as well as between Lhopos and
Nepalese, can escalate and in some cases turn into explosive situations,
with some villagers not talking to each other for decades or worse, the
dispute only ending with the death of one or both opponents. In some
of the following examples, we will see how several villagers, who appear
to be involved in more disputes or potential disputes than others, seem
to have become scapegoats for the tensions building up in the village
over these questions, being accused respectively of being a poisoner, a
witch and a sender of curses, depending on their status and gender.

1.1. Disputes with Nepalese and other outsiders

A case between a Nepalese and a Lhopo that happened in the 1970s
offers an example of the gravity of some of these land disputes, and
the extremes to which they can be taken on the rare occasions when a
determined outsider tries to gain ownership of land in a roundabout
way. Initially, the concerned Nepalese and Lhopo were friends who
regularly exchanged meat for grain between themselves. As part of
one of these deals, the Lhopo agreed to lend a cardamom field to the
Nepalese for a period of six or seven years in return for some cattle.
After the agreed-upon period had elapsed, the Nepalese refused to
return the field or even share the harvest, saying that he had improved
it and had added many more cardamom plants. The desperate Lhopo
tried to negotiate a solution, but eventually the Nepalese, who felt he
would have no other choice but to return the land if the matter were
taken to court, called two hundred Nepalese to help, and together they
uprooted the whole field and returned the barren land to the Lhopo.
The Lhopo’s son eventually replanted the cardamom field but was
attacked one day by the Nepalese cultivator’s two sons, who tried to
kill him with their khukurī knives. A lama, a member of the Lhopo’s
immediate family, decided to take revenge by secreting a piece of paper
with the name of the Nepalese father under an important torgyap which
was being held for some other purpose. The Nepalese father died six
months later, swept away by a flash flood as he attempted to cross a
 the land, its problems and ritual solutions 219

nearby river. Among the concerned Lhopos, it was assumed that the
death had been caused by the torgyap.
The torgyap has always been considered the ritual weapon of the tan-
tric ritual specialists of the village. Earlier this century, the torgyap was
the domain of the nagshang, who would harness the worldly powers of
the nöpa and send them to counter obstructive forces, or in some cases
even harm or kill enemies. Until the 1960s, village lamas undertook
meditation retreat with the hope of cultivating ritual powers that would
help villagers defend themselves against curses sent from other villages,
and in order to send them back with a countering torgyap in case of
feuds. Then, as Buddhist values gradually asserted themselves, the use
of the torgyap was adapted to Buddhist ethics. The supernatural beings
sent to war against enemies were no longer ambivalent worldly nöpa
who could be bribed into performing any unethical action, but Buddhist
yidam who would only unleash their wrathful and destructive tendencies
against the enemies of the Buddha, the Dharma and the Sangha. In
the eyes of the villagers, and as in the above example, this meant that
if their enemies were truly in the wrong and knowingly acting in a
dishonest way, the yidam would act as moral agents and their enemies
would be punished by the torgyap. Like the nagshang of the past, the
Sesung Gomchen is considered the specialist of the torgyap and the last
village lama in Tingchim to still cast the torgyap, either with the help of
a nöpa or with the help of the yidam, depending on the situation.1
While land disputes between Lhopos and Nepalese are not uncom-
mon, most other cases of disputes with outsiders tend to be isolated
cases of unpaid debt, whether with Lepchas, Nepalese, Marwaris or

1
This village form of torgyap—as opposed to its proper Buddhist form performed at
the Phodong monastery (see chapter 10)—may even have earlier roots. The bongthing
once performed a fascinating ritual which bears many similarities to the torgyap. While
performing a thank you ritual for his pho lha mo lha after recovering from a serious
illness, the bongthing cut up and offered parts of a torma to the ancestral gods, saying:
“with the power of the pho lha I am cutting up the enemy’s heart.” While cutting up
the ox’s leg that was being offered, he chanted: “I am not cutting up the offering, I
am cutting up the enemy’s muscle.” Following this, the right horn and the right hoof
of the animal were place in a ladle and cast over his shoulder in a similar way to the
lama’s casting of the torgyap, in order to send the “sword of the pho lha, of Yeshe Gonpo
and Masang against the obstructive and destructive forces.” If the horn falls on the
ground pointing away from the bongthing, this will be read as an auspicious sign, but if it
falls pointing towards him, the ritual offering will have to be repeated until the horn
falls pointing in the right direction.
220 chapter seven

wandering traders, or disputes with Mangshila Limbus over water use.

The fact that Nepalese cannot legally buy land from a Lhopo or a
Lepcha has created a situation wherein many try to ‘buy’ it in illegal
ways. Ever since they came to North Sikkim, Nepalese have offered cash
loans to Lhopo and Lepcha landowners under the illegal byāj system2 in
the hope that the borrower would be unable to repay the capital and
the Nepalese money-lender would then become the unofficial owner
of the field given as security. When this happens, Lhopos feel they
cannot complain to the authorities since they have already engaged
in an illegal activity by having accepted the loan and its conditions.
Such problems have mainly occurred with Nepalese Bāhuns, who were
among the first in Tingchim to try to obtain land in byāj in the 1960s.
One such Bāhun family, who had been in Tingchim since the 1970s,
worked peacefully as tenant farmers and cattle herders until the rumour
spread in the early 1990s that legislation was pending that would give
to tenant farmers certain ownership rights over land they had tilled
for over twelve years. Tingchim Lhopos became alarmed at the pos-
sibility of losing their land, and the Bāhuns were the first targets of a
new wave of attempts, instigated by some young Lhopo landowners,
to expel Nepalese tenants. After much protest and threats of going to
court, the Bāhun finally agreed to return his ku fields and vacate his
house built on Lhopo land, although he remained in Tingchim to look
after his cattle, as he had managed to buy a field from a Mangshila
Limbu. The high-caste Bāhun-Chetris generally do not inspire trust,
as they are known for having taken advantage of the Lhopos and the
Lepchas all over Sikkim, usually in dubious and roundabout ways, as
they had in East Nepal (Caplan 1995).
Of the few original Limbu tenant farmers who came to Tingchim
in the 1960s, only one family remains. Although this family of Limbus
was the first ever to try obtaining land from the Lhopos in byāj, they
never succeeded and were not considered as threatening as the Bāhuns
despite their repeated efforts. This first family of Limbu tenants are
poor, and in addition to cultivating fields of two Lhopo landowners
following the ku contractual system, family members have always
worked for a number of Lhopo households on a daily wage basis. The
widowed grandmother of the Limbu household is considered by all

2
See chapter 6 footnote 21.
 the land, its problems and ritual solutions 221

the Lhopos in Tingchim to be a barmo witch. Such women, known as

boksi in the Nepalese language, are thought to have a naturally cruel
mind and to be envious of others’ possessions. It is commonly thought
that barmo transform themselves at dusk into a black cat or an owl that
goes wandering around the village at night looking for victims. Once
it has identified someone, the animal becomes invisible to all except
high lamas and Rinpoches, and sucks the blood of its victim, which
will be good for the barmo but will cause weakness and leave a bruise
or teeth marks on the skin of the victim. She gains power through the
recitation of mantras, so barmo-related problems may only be cured by
ritual specialists with expertise in their use. In Tingchim, the Nepalese
jhā̃ kri and yebā will be consulted for their Hindu mantras or the lamas
for their Buddhist ones, but the pawo, the nejum and the bongthing are
considered to be powerless against barmo afflictions since mantras are
not their ritual domain. It is thought that babies and milking cows are
particularly vulnerable to barmo, but that generally anything beautiful,
pleasant or abundant on which her gaze stops with admiration and
envy will be spoiled or fall ill as a result. For example, a tree full of
ripening fruit may rot in a few days, a girl’s beautiful hair may fall out,
or a milking cow may become dry after she expresses her admiration
for any of these.
The Limbu barmo woman, like other members of her household,
used to go around the village and work for different landowners on a
daily basis, and as a result, people say that she became familiar with
and jealous of other people’s houses and possessions, and then returned
at night to attack her selected victims. Her family is the first who per-
sistently tried secretly to obtain land from the Lhopos by giving them
small loans in byāj with land as security. Considering the similarity
between the covert ways of byāj and barmo, it is possible that because
of her daily wanderings and her family’s poverty and ambitions, she
then became a scapegoat for tensions building up over these questions
between Lhopos and Nepalese. In a similar way, when still alive, she
and her jhā̃kri husband once were accused of supernatural responsibility
for a series of babies’ deaths which took place in the village many years
before. The only other woman in the village who is accused of being
a barmo, though in a much milder way, is also a very poor outsider, a
Tibetan who worked for others on a daily wage basis and eventually
married into a poor Lhopo household. As we will see below, women
who are accused of being poisoners rather than barmo also tend to be
outsiders, but poisoners are usually rich, successful and independent
222 chapter seven

women who inspire jealousy in others rather than being poor and
thought to be envious of others’ possessions.
A different type of witchcraft, this one non-intentional, wide-spread
and known in South Asia as ‘evil-eye’ (Maloney 1976), is called söndre
( gson ’dre) in Tingchim. A person with this power has the capacity to
spoil something simply by looking at it with a feeling of envy, whether
it be beauty in others, new clothes or special food. Söndre in Tingchim
is considered to be an unconscious phenomenon present in men, but
more frequently in women, and which is not inherent in everyone. The
few who have the condition are not aware of it and may have inherited
the capacity through descent or produced it through their own karma.
Pocock (1973) has demonstrated that accusing someone of evil eye
in Gujarat may in fact be more revealing of the accuser’s greed and
refusal to share good things than of the so-called malicious envy of the
accused. Sikkimese women seem to be aware of this possibility and go
out of their way to appear and be known as unselfish and generous,
although this cultivated generosity is usually not directed at those who
might actually be envious of their possessions.
Barmo witchcraft and söndre evil eye accusations are widespread phe-
nomena in the Himalayas and their existence among the Nyinba of
northwestern Nepal, Tibetan-speaking people also living in proximity of
Nepalese Hindus, has been discussed in detail by Nancy Levine (1982).
Levine distinguishes between two types of intentional and unintentional
witchcraft based on envy and jealousy which usually afflict poor and
disadvantaged women. In an attempt to explain women’s association
with witchcraft, Levine quotes Harris as saying that
whatever are the statuses in which aggression is not legitimate, occupants
of those statuses will be singled out for imputation of covert mystical
aggression, or transmission to others close to them of evil mystical pro-
clivities or both (1973: 158).
Aggressive behaviour is indeed a most unwelcome trait in Sikkimese
women, who must always appear to be kind, generous and impartially
caring, and the fear of being accused of barmo seems to act as a strong
deterrent to the display of aggressive, selfish or ambitious behaviour.
This is especially the case with successful women accused of poison-
ing, who are often widows or have become more powerful than their
living husbands.
 the land, its problems and ritual solutions 223

1.2. Curses and poisoning accusations: land and other disputes

between non-related Lhopos
Although land disputes between Lhopos are common, there are two
Tingchim villagers who seem to be involved in most of the old and
ongoing disputes that I came to know about. The first is a woman I
shall call Ongmo. She is the only person in Tingchim who has been
accused over the last ten years of regularly attempting to poison oth-
ers. The fear of being poisoned is a widespread phenomenon among
Sikkimese Lhopos from all social classes and educational backgrounds.
Poisoners are always women and, from my observations, accusations
are usually made against successful outsiders. Originally, the fear used
to be directed at Lepchas,3 but accusations are now also made against
Lhopos, Tibetans, Sherpas, Newari Pradhans, Limbus, Gurungs,
Tamangs, Rais and Magars. Women running restaurants are the most
frequent targets of poisoning accusations and I was warned by many
Lhopo friends about which restaurants had to be avoided—as much in
Gangtok as in North and West Sikkim.4 Poisoning or duk is considered
a kind of cult wherein a woman enters into a ritual contract with a
particular supernatural being.5 The object of the cult is to accumulate
wealth, power and knowledge, either for oneself or for one’s family. The
woman poisoner is required to administer the poison by putting it in
the food or drink of, preferably, a wealthy or knowledgeable person in
order to magically inherit the victim’s qualities after the victim’s death,
which can follow only a few hours later in the case of strong poison,
or after months, or even years, in the case of slow poison, which is
absorbed by contact through the skin.6 The poison itself is said to be
obtained from plains’ people and not from the poisonous acunite that
grows in Sikkim. It is said that once a woman enters into a contract
with the supernatural ‘owner of poison’, she is obliged to find victims

3
Even today, many Lhopos from Tingchim would not feel safe venturing into the
Lepcha reservation of Dzongu for fear of being poisoned.
4
Restaurants run by outside women, mostly Tibetan, Bhutanese, Sherpa or Newari
Pradhan, are the prime targets of poisoning accusations, and wealthy Lhopos, out of
fear, will usually only eat in reputable establishments or at Indian food stalls.
5
In Tingchim, the ‘owner of poison’ is called Tingbung Anyo Pende, although
other names such as Palden Lhamo or Lunag (klu nag) are in use throughout Sikkim.
Tingbung is the name of a Lepcha village on the other side of the valley.
6
Hooker mentions that Lepchas used cups made of a peculiar wood, which were
considered antidotes against poison (1855: 124).
224 chapter seven

on a regular basis—otherwise the supernatural being may make her

suffer, or worse, force her to administer the poison to her own child.
Before dying of old age, the woman will be tortured and prevented
from dying until she passes the obligation on to another person. The
symptoms of poisoning are heartburn, vomiting, headache and paraly-
sis, and the cure, if the victim is treated in time, is by Lepcha herbal
medicine and mantras.
Ongmo, although a Lhopo living in Tingchim, is nevertheless con-
sidered an outsider, as she comes from a village close to the Chumbi
Valley. Her husband’s family is one of the richest in Tingchim, and
despite her husband’s death, being strong and capable, she is successfully
managing the household and its fields with the help of her children.
She and her husband had been engaged in a number of land disputes
over the years, and people say that in some cases she attempted to
poison her opponents in order to get a portion of their land. In the
early 1990s, she is said to have confiscated the pawo’s best cardamom
field as payment for a cash loan and all the chang and arak he drank in
her house but could never pay for. Taking possession of a field in such
a way is considered a very bad thing to do among Lhopos. She is also
the only person today to be engaged in a land dispute with one of her
husband’s close relatives, and both parties have not spoken in years.
Her husband is said to have died of an old curse sent against him by a
bon specialist following a land dispute as well as from the consequences
of a vow taken with Tsam Khang Ajo in which common pho lha mo lha
were invoked to act as supernatural judges over their land dispute and
to punish the person who was in the wrong. Two Lhopo villagers, one
a young lama and the other an older man, are said to have died from
her poisoning in the early 1990s, although there were no on-going dis-
putes between her and their families. For many, these accusations were
confirmed and made public when, during a curing ritual, the pawo was
possessed by the spirit of one of her alleged dead victims, who directly
addressed her in the assembly, openly saying that she had poisoned him.
The event repeated itself a year later when the Lachung Pawo, on a
visit to Tingchim, performed a séance of possession as part of a curing
ritual for one of her sick neighbours. In the eyes of many villagers,
her status as poisoner nevertheless remains questionable, and most will
treat her with respect and accept her hospitality for fear of offending
her. On the other hand, a few are so convinced of her intentions that
they will never even accept a cup of tea from her. I found her to be a
kind and capable person and personally do not believe the allegations
 the land, its problems and ritual solutions 225

regarding her poisoning activities; I accepted her hospitality without

fear and did not suffer any negative consequences.
It is interesting to note that the family whose male members most
strongly accuse Ongmo of engaging in poisoning activities are direct
cousins and nephews of both her alleged victims, and are also closely
related to Tingchim Pawo Nadu, from whom she has apparently taken
a cardamom field. They complain that she has attempted to poison
some of them on more than one occasion, and are also the ones who
dispense the herbal antidote to those who suspect they are her latest
victims. Apparently, suspicion of poisoning attacks is a regular occur-
rence, and at least once a month a villager will come and ask for the
medicine as a precaution when not feeling well after having been a guest
in her house. Although this medicine-dispensing family is not person-
ally involved in any land or other dispute with her, I believe that, as
in the case of the successful restaurant owners, there may be a certain
degree of jealousy over her success. Poisoning accusations may indeed
be attempts at preventing her from enriching herself at the expense
of other Lhopo villagers. Equality among Tingchim Lhopos is highly
prized, while exploitation of other Lhopos is strongly condemned—to
the point where doing business, and making a profit by selling goods
to one’s own people, is considered a sin. Ongmo comes from a Lhopo
community of herders and traders who entertained close trading ties
with Tibet, while Tingchim Lhopos are agriculturalists who had pre-
viously lived off of hunting, gathering and the keeping of cows, who
had engaged in simple barter with regular trading friends, and who,
in many ways, became closer to the Lepchas and the Limbus than to
the Tibetans. The fact that the accusations were made publicly during
two possession rituals—one even performed by an outsider—suggests
that these feelings reflect a general concern, and that, like the Limbu
woman accused of being a barmo witch, Ongmo may be serving as a
scapegoat for tensions building up over the question of land disputes
between Lhopos, created as much by others as by herself. I believe
her to be the target of villagers’ jealousy and of being singled out
as an example of the type of behaviour villagers strongly condemn,
whether it be in men or in women. Gorer gives a similar description
of a widowed women accused of being a poisoner among the Lepchas
of Lingthem across the valley (1938: 133–35). Villagers in Lingthem
seemed equally divided about her innocence and Gorer concluded
that the poisoner was probably being used as a scapegoat. According
to Gorer, quarrelling is so strongly disapproved of socially that these
226 chapter seven

accusations could be seen as an expression of the Lepcha accusers’

repressed and transferred aggression. I see it more as a way of check-
ing aggressively selfish behaviour in others. Accusations of poisoning
and barmo witchcraft are reserved for aggressive or covertly ambitious
women; those of curse-sender are applied to aggressive men. Whatever
the cause of these accusations, North Sikkim has unfortunately gained
the reputation of being a dangerous place where outsiders run the risk
of being poisoned, and when I discussed this with a politician from
the area, we both concluded that a number of successful women have
suffered unnecessarily from such accusations.
The second person said to have been involved in frequent disputes
was a Tingchim Lhopo known as ‘the Yebā’ because he had acquired
his ritual skills from a wondering Limbu yebā. He is particularly
remembered for his difficult character and for all the curses that he
left behind—curses which villagers are still regularly countering to this
day. The Yebā was involved in several disputes over land and women
and had a number of declared enemies. He was accused of incest with
a maternal cousin from Namok, which created such a scandal at the
time that he was initially ordered by the Chogyal to leave for Chumbi
in Tibet, while the girl had to leave for Rangpo, Sikkim’s border town
with the Darjeeling District. Then, in the early 1950s, he was the first
in the area to marry a Nepalese woman—of a Sherpa father and
Chetri mother—which created an additional scandal. Regarding land,
he was involved in at least four protracted land disputes with other
Tingchim Lhopos. Being poor, the Yebā had been given permission
by one Angon family to stay on their land for a couple of years, after
which he refused to leave. When he finally vacated after ten years, he
announced to the village that the Angon lineage was now going to
perish for their actions. He was also a rival of local ritual specialists,
particularly the Limbu jhā̃kri who used to live by the lake. They would
compete by sending each other curses until they concluded that they
were of equal power and became friends. Of all the ritual specialists,
he was only afraid of Ajo Bongthing, the father of the present bongthing,
who died after him in 1985. He was involved in a serious land dispute
over a cardamom field with a lama who complained that the Yebā had
attempted to ritually kill him on several occasions. Eventually, it is said
that a lama placed a piece of paper with the name of the Yebā under
a torgyap that was being cast as part of someone else’s ritual, and it is
generally thought that, as a result of this, the Yebā died in an accident
two months later.
 the land, its problems and ritual solutions 227

Sending curses or cherkha is considered a very easy thing to do. It is

said that no elaborate or expensive ritual is needed, nor is it necessary
to be an accomplished ritual specialist to do so. Anyone who entertains
a personal relation with a nöpa may send him to cause trouble in some-
one else’s life by giving him a little offering of sur ( gsur), a mixture of
butter and flour. Another technique is to collect hair and soil from the
enemy’s footprint and seal them in a little bamboo container, which
is then buried in an inauspicious location. It is said that, in the past,
bon ritual specialists frequently engaged in sending curses specifically
to cause someone’s death, something the present pawo and bongthing no
longer engage in. For this, the bon specialists would perform a ritual
where they would call the soul of the victim and ‘cut’ it with a knife
on a wooden board normally used to cut meat; if blood splashed, it
meant that the curse would be successful. All these techniques are said
to have been learnt from the Lepchas, while the Lhopos’ way of send-
ing and countering curses was through the torgyap. Today, most people
agree that curses sent by a bon ritual specialist can be countered by the
lama’s torgyap, while the torgyap of the lama cannot be countered by the
bon specialists, although this view is still not shared by all. Nowadays,
people are discouraged from sending curses by being told that if they
do so, after a few years, the same nöpa will come back for his reward
after a job well done, and by then, the sender would have already for-
gotten and the angry nöpa would turn against him; which is basically
another way of explaining the law of karma. But it is also said that
Lhopos usually do not engage so liberally in this type of activity and
that the Yebā was an exception. He is considered the only true curse
sender in Tingchim’s recent history.
The Yebā’s curses are ritually countered in the following way. After
the pawo or the bongthing’s diagnosis, a simple labyong offering ritual
for the Northern King (the Yebā’s helper and protector) is held together
with the family of the Yebā in order to prove to the nöpa that they are
no longer in dispute. If the patient doesn’t recover, a Kongso ritual for
the Northern King is held by a lama, again together with the Yebā’s
family, and eventually, the sacrifice of a goat is held as a last resort. If
the curse is from a new unidentified source, a simple torgyap ritual ( gu ru
drag dmar gtor rgyab) will be held in order to cover all eventualities, and
if the problem persists, a more elaborate and expensive torgyap ritual
(seng gdong ma’i gtor rgyab) will be held in order to divert the curse and
send it back to its originator.
228 chapter seven

2. Polluting and destroying objects of nature within

the village

The lake in Tingchim is regarded as a ne, a powerful sacred site that

must be safeguarded from pollution, destruction and other disturbances.
The lake is also the main source of irrigation for the paddy fields and
drinking water for the lower houses of the village. A large rock next to
the lake is the abode of Jowo Dzom Tshering ( Jo bo ’dzom tshe ring),
the benevolent tsen protector of the lake and one of the four gatekeepers
of the village. Under him come a horde of aquatic lu and other nöpa
who are the actual beings responsible for taking revenge and inflicting
diseases on those who disturb the lake and its surroundings—distur-
bances which, it is feared, could result in the drying up of the lake.
Swimming in the lake is considered a polluting activity, but probably
the most difficult to avoid, especially by the young boys of the village.
Four people died in the lake in the last decade, and their deaths were
attributed to the nöpa’s displeasure. Three were Nepalese who, though
good swimmers, drowned in the middle of the lake for no apparent
reason, while the fourth was the bongthing’s eldest son, who died in a
diving accident. The three Nepalese were respectively Chetri, Rai and
Limbu, and since the last drowning, to the Lhopos’ relief, no Nepalese
has attempted to swim there again. During the summer of 1994, a few
young unmarried Lhopo men7 and boys disregarded the rule and went
swimming discreetly at the end of the day until the nejum issued loud
warnings, in trance, that the nöpa were angry and that someone was
going to drown if swimming was not stopped immediately. Mothers
were alarmed, boys were scolded and again swimming was banned.
By the end of the following summer, nobody had swum in the lake as
yet, and the nejum continued to issue the same warning at every séance,
adding that the spirits of the three Nepalese were still roaming about
the lake—which was enough to keep potential Nepalese swimmers out
of the water as well.
A similar case occurred when Lopen Dugyal’s elder brother’s wife
was suffering from an eye ache. The bongthing was asked to diagnose
the ailment, and it was divined that it had been caused by a Nepalese

7
Unmarried men are considered less polluting, as they have no contact with female
genitals.
 the land, its problems and ritual solutions 229

who had cut down a tree next to the lake and an offering apology had
now to be made to Jowo Dzom Tshering.8 Both these examples bring
up the question of whether Nepalese are being blamed for Lhopos’
misfortunes—perhaps because of the threat Nepalese tenants represent
for the Lhopo landowners. We have seen how Lhopo landowners have
become dependent on Nepalese tenants and how the same Nepalese
are becoming increasingly powerful politically and economically. The
overwhelming Nepalese presence in Sikkim is regarded as a threat to
Lhopo culture and language, which is no longer spoken by the children
of most urban Lhopo families. Openly voicing communal feelings is
frowned upon, and the tensions between both communities often find
expression in such roundabout ways that are conveniently sanctioned
by the supernatural. In these examples, the fact that a Nepalese tenant
had been accused of cutting down a tree next to a Lhopo sacred site,
and that three others drowned because they did not respect the same
site, indirectly reconfirmed that, despite their close relation of eco-
nomic interdependency, friendship and decades of living in proximity,
Nepalese do not share the same sacred landscape or conception of the
supernatural. They are thus fundamentally different people, or outsid-
ers, ready to take advantage of the Lhopos, which in turn justifies the
maintenance of the landlord-tenant exploitative relation.
In this respect, an interesting example of a curing ritual presented
itself one day as Lopen Dugyal’s baby niece, Sangay Palmo, was sick
with fever. She was first given some medicine by the nurse,9 which failed
to produce any result. The pawo was then asked to make a diagnosis
through trance and it was revealed that a well-known dü residing in her

8
Before consulting the bongthing, anyone may burn butter in the fire and offer a short
khelen for Jowo Dzom Tshering. As first offering prescribed by the bongthing, Jowo Dzom
Tshering will be assigned a white chicken zung. If the family already keeps such a zung,
they will get an ox rib from the butcher along with a little rice, flour and milk, which will
be offered by the bongthing on a copper plate with white torma representing Jowo Dzom
Tshering and his entourage. If this again fails, the chicken zung will not be sacrificed
but instead a tsen dö (thread cross) offering ritual will be performed by a lama.
9
Non-prescriptive light medicines such as paracetamol are often taken before con-
sulting any ritual specialists. Even if the illness is caused by a nöpa, it is thought that
such a non-prescriptive medicine will not have negative consequences for the patient.
There is a full-time nurse in Tingchim, employed by the Government, who is mainly
in charge of vaccinations and family planning. She has very little medicine to offer
patients and will usually refer them to the doctor in Mangan.
230 chapter seven

paternal uncle’s field was angry because everyone in the area had been
trapping and hunting the monkeys that were damaging the cardamom
fields. The dü declared himself the owner of these monkeys; he was
angry that they had been taken away, and in order to warn villagers,
added that he also owned many leopards and tigers, which were wait-
ing to be fed the dead bodies of sick people from the village. When
the negotiator, who sits facing the possessed pawo, tried to calm down
the dü by promising to perform a dü dö (thread cross) ritual by a lama
in his honour, the dü refused, saying that he wanted to take a human
life but that he might consider a bon ritual instead. The negotiator and
the dü settled for the offering of an ox rib for himself and an offering
on a labyong banana leaf for Ajo Goka, who had been brought over
by the dü to cause trouble. Little Palmo’s condition improved as soon
as the ritual offerings were completed, although this was not the end of
the case as we will see below.
During the diagnosis phase of the ritual, the negotiator tried but
failed to impose a dü dö, a Buddhist ritual, on the dü. In an attempt
to reduce villagers’ dependence on bon rituals, negotiators will often
pressure a nöpa to settle for a Buddhist ritual, which will apparently be
accepted in many cases. The fact that the nöpa are given the choice
and always have the final say on whether a satisfactory ritual shapten
should be bon or Buddhist, regardless of how much a Buddhist ritual
may be insisted upon by the negotiator, is probably the most important
factor that betrays the importance bon and the shamanic worldview still
hold in Tingchim. When the villagers initially select the bongthing or the
pawo as their first choice of specialist in the event of illness, they are
effectively giving precedence to bon. By delegating the power to the bon
specialists and the nöpa to decide whether the lamas and their Buddhist
rituals should be involved, they are momentarily placing the lamas in
a subordinate position.
A few days after the rituals were held for Palmo, she suffered a
relapse and fell ill with high fever once again. She was first given light
medicine by the nurse, which again failed to produce results. This time,
the bongthing was consulted, and following his diagnosis, a labyong for
a particular latsen was offered, which also failed to improve her condi-
tion. Eventually, the pawo was consulted once again and divined that
a particular dü (sBas gzhi bdag pa sgong po—owner of an area within
Tingchim Block called Be) was causing the illness because a large
number of monkeys had been trapped on his land. He demanded the
sacrifice of a goat and said that if it was not given to him he would then
 the land, its problems and ritual solutions 231

take the life of the baby instead. The bongthing10 performed the offering
the next day, somewhere in the jungle, with the help of two or three
people. Black millet torma were prepared and a young goat was offered
by chanting the khelen. Following the offering, Palmo smiled and was
cured immediately. It is said that some nöpa will never accept a Buddhist
ritual and will only be satisfied by a blood sacrifice when villagers have
done something which would particularly displease them.
It was concluded by the assembly of relatives and the pawo that the
reason why Palmo had become the victim of a relatively distant dü was
because, a week before she fell ill for the first time, Lopen Dugyal and
I had gone to Be to interview the Tamang family that resides in that
area. This is the family of Dan Bahadur Tamang, the only landowner
of Nepalese origin in Tingchim and the first Tamang to settle in the
North District, in 1960 when he was given unwanted11 land by the Lho-
pos in the Be area of Tingchim Block. The Tamangs had mentioned
that their Limbu workers had trapped six monkeys on their land, as
they were damaging the cardamom, and Lopen Dugyal, as a favour,
asked for a skin in order to make a drum and two kilos of meat to dry
and keep as medicine against malaria. Palmo, who resides in the same
household as Lopen Dugyal, fell ill soon after the gifts were delivered,
and when the right cause or wrongdoing was finally established by the
pawo, Lopen Dugyal returned the skin and the meat by throwing them
in the jungle, as the dü had said that the monkeys belonged to him.
Lopen Dugyal does not consider himself sufficiently accomplished as
a lama to reform the local nöpa the Buddhist way by returning them
onto the right path of the Dharma and, failing this, will follow the
pawo’s recommendations.
The hunting of wild animals, however, does not always result in
illness. Regular hunters perform a preventive ritual in the jungle
wherein specific pieces of the animal are offered to the hunter’s per-
sonal supernatural helper and protector, usually a latsen, each time an
animal is killed. Thanks to the help of this particular nöpa, the hunter
and consumers of the meat will not suffer the consequences of having
taken it from its supernatural owner as long as the hunter first offers

10
The pawo usually avoids performing animal sacrifices and will rely on the bongthing
to perform the offering on the rare occasions when the sacrificial killing is prescribed
by him.
11
The forest land of the Be area was rejected by the Tingchim Lhopos, as it was
‘owned’ by a particularly dangerous dü.
232 chapter seven

Plate 25: Dan Bahadur Tamang and a visiting Tamang lama in Tingchim

the correct share to the protective latsen. But in the above example, the
hunters and their master were again outsiders, Limbus and Tamangs
who did not share the same relation with the sacred landscape and did
not perform preventive hunting rituals. Here, Tingchim Nepalese were
again blamed indirectly for the Lhopo’s misfortune because of having
transgressed a Lhopo ritual principle within the boundaries of the vil-
lage block, thus reaffirming their cultural distinction and foreign status
by not sharing in local knowledge and values. This particular Tamang
family happens to be wealthy by village standards precisely because,
when they first settled there, they disregarded the Lhopos’ belief that
a dangerous dü was residing in the Be area of Tingchim Block. The
Tamangs took over this rejected tract of forest a few years after they
settled in Tingchim in 1960 and turned it into a very lucrative carda-
mom field. This has of course generated a feeling of jealousy among the
Lhopos, as instead of perishing from the attacks of the dü, Dan Bahadur
Tamang had five sons and four daughters and greatly prospered from
the cardamom in Be. The Lhopos’ explanation as to why the Tamangs
have remained unaffected by the dü is that they have no relation with
it, a relation which can only be gained through inheritance from one’s
forefathers. Their immunity is thus a reconfirmation of being outsiders,
despite residing in Tingchim for thirty-five years and being Buddhists.
 the land, its problems and ritual solutions 233

It is thus no coincidence that the same dü unleashed his anger on

Palmo when Lopen Dugyal obtained a piece of meat and the skin of
a monkey that had been captured in the Tamang’s cardamom fields.
The Tamangs’ immunity places them outside the network of ritual rela-
tions which creates the community, and by manifesting its existence and
displeasure through Palmo, the dü reaffirmed the Tamangs’ immunity
and thus irrevocable status as outsiders who have no inherent right to
the products of the land in Be.
In an earlier example regarding the lake as a ne or powerful sacred
site, we have seen that three Nepalese had drowned because they disre-
garded its sanctity. Although this example may seem to contradict the
above case wherein the Tamangs, as outsiders, remained immune to
the dü’s anger, the situations are not exactly the same. In the case of the
drownings, the outsiders who do not share in local beliefs nevertheless
became victims of local nöpa because they directly violated a ne, while
in the other examples, they only violated the possessions of a local nöpa,
such as trees, cardamom or monkeys. From a local viewpoint, the differ-
ence is significant. The ne are often the abodes of important protectors,
who, as with Kangchendzönga, may act as dablha warrior god for the
land and its people. In the case of Tingchim, the lake is the abode of
Jowo Dzom Tshering, the keeper of Tingchim’s southern gate, whose
responsibility it is to protect the entry of the village from enemies. We
will see in later examples, when discussing the destruction of the ne of
Yuksum during the construction of the Rathong Chu hydro-electric
project in West Sikkim, that members from all communities were being
affected by the violations of the sacred sites of Demojong.
During fieldwork, I did not come across any straightforward case
wherein a Lhopo villager had done something wrong against the land,
such as cutting down a tree, and fallen sick because of his own action.
Such cases were recounted to me but, missing the context, it is impos-
sible to say whether these were not in fact cases of indirectly blaming
misfortune on threatening agents as well. However, the cases I did wit-
ness, wherein a diagnosis was offered and a wrong action uncovered,
were all eventually attributed to an agent that appeared to me to be
threatening in one way or the other. Along with the Nepalese settlers,
the other most prevalent agents, as far as wrong actions performed
against the sacred land are concerned, were the Sikkim Administration,
the Government of India and the Indian Army for their construction
and other works that involved dynamiting the landscape.
234 chapter seven

3. Wrong action performed against the sacred land beyond

the village: the case of Rathong Chu hydro-electric project

The Government of Sikkim’s attempt to built a hydro-electric power

station at the heart of Demojong, on the sacred Rathong Chu river at
Yuksum in West Sikkim, is probably the most important and explicit
example of ‘wrongdoing’ performed against the sacred land to have
occurred in Sikkim’s recent history. Countless cases of personal mis-
fortune were attributed to the deities’ anger when construction work
was initiated at Yuksum in 1995. Specific administrators and politicians
within the Government of Sikkim were held responsible for attempting
to destroy the sacred land and, as a result, were identified as threats to
the Lhopo community. It is not my purpose here to relate the details
of the political circumstances and economic forces which surrounded
the construction of the hydro-electric project and the movement which
opposed it, but to look into the religious aspect of the controversy
which, in many ways, had to be played down at the time. The issue
had always been a religious one—albeit closely linked to identity and
the political and economic rights of the Lhopo and the Lepcha com-
munities—which at the time had to be portrayed and fought in envi-
ronmental and cultural terms in order to avoid stirring up anti-Hindu
and communal feelings in an India already plagued by a renewal of
Hindu-Muslim clashes.
Although the project had been in the planning for a number of
years and had previously been opposed by other tribal organisations,
the matter came to a head in the summer of 1995 when a group of
Lhopo activists called Concerned Citizens of Sikkim (CCS) decided to
take the matter into their own hands. The central argument against the
project was the historical and religious significance of the project’s site,
which would be desanctified through environmental destruction and
pollution. Yuksum, located at the heart of Demojong beneath Mount
Kangchendzönga, is where the first Chogyal was crowned in the seven-
teenth century, leading to Sikkim’s birth as a kingdom. As we have seen
in chapter 3, Demojong is also the area with the highest concentration
of powerful sacred sites and hidden treasures within Sikkim. And most
importantly, Demojong is the abode of Sikkim’s protective deities. The
plateau of Yuksum is itself considered to be a lhakhang, or a house of
gods, in the shape of a ma ala where the protective deities are made
offerings. When construction started at Yuksum, the blasting of dynamite
could be heard across the valley as rocks were being shattered in order
 the land, its problems and ritual solutions 235

to make way for the water channel that would divert waters from the
Rathong Chu towards a water reservoir and onto the power-house. As
we have seen, the Nesol specifically mentions not destroying hills, rocks
and cliffs within Demojong, and the sound of blasting had a powerful
psychological impact on the Lhopos. It was as if the deities’ abode were
crumbling to pieces. It was believed that as a result, the wrath of the
deities would bring epidemics, famines, internal fighting and natural
calamities to people all over Sikkim. The CCS was equally concerned
by the fact that over the years the project would employ thousands of
migrant workers, whose presence would have an undesirable influence
on the local Lhopos and Lepchas as well as on the religious and physi-
cal environment of Yuksum.
On a hilltop across the valley just opposite Yuksum is situated Pema-
yangtse, the premier monastery of Sikkim. In May 1995, Dodrupchen
Rinpoche of the Chorten monastery in Gangtok held an important
initiation ritual in Pemayangtse, which was attended by lamas from all
over Sikkim. At that time, the Dorje Lopen (abbot) of Pemayangtse
expressed his concern about the hydro-electric project and its con-
sequences for Sikkim to Sonam Paljor Denjongpa, a Sikkimese who
had been sent to study anthropology in America by Hope Namgyal,
an American and the then Gyalmo or Queen of Sikkim. The Dorje
Lopen told him that the project had to be stopped, but that he was
now too old, his hands were tied, and it was time for the next genera-
tion to take over. When the Dorje Lopen passed away two days later,
Sonam Paljor was left with the responsibility to carry out his wishes; he
joined forces with Pema Namgyal and Chukie Tobden,12 who together
formed the CCS.
The monasteries, the powerful sacred sites and their rituals are the
only thing left to the Lhopos which confer on them a sense of identity
and a focus for their past history. The violation of the sacred sites was
not only perceived as a direct attack on their fundamental rights to
preserve their religion and culture, but also as an attempt to divide
and weaken the Lhopo community from within. Compensation for
land acquired for the project was distributed, influential local Lhopos
were bought, promises were made and those who opposed the project
were labelled as ‘anti-government and anti-people’. When the CCS

12
Chum Chukie Tobden is the daughter of Rai Bahadur Libing Athing. Pema
Namgyal is the son of Netuk Tshering (Executive Councillor 1967–70).
236 chapter seven

realised what was at stake, they started a peaceful protest and educa-
tional movement on the 8th of June 1995 by staging a hunger strike in
Gangtok, demanding that work at the project site be suspended while
an independent team of experts reviewed the entire project. Sonam
Paljor also undertook a fast.
During his hunger strike, which was to last 28 days, negotiations
between the CCS and the Government took place and, at each cru-
cial stage, Rinpoches were consulted by the CCS for their divinatory
powers as to what course of action should be adopted. On the tenth
day of the strike, an eminent Tibetan Rinpoche on a visit to Sikkim
was consulted. He endorsed the campaign, prescribed a specific torgyap
ritual (drag po sde bzhi’i gtor rgyab) to be performed and predicted that
the campaign would be successful and that the construction of the
hydro-project would eventually be stopped, but that for this to hap-
pen, the ritual first had to be performed. He added that people had to
be united over this issue and recommended that a ‘wrathful’ attitude
be adopted as this was the only way to get anything done these days.
The performance of the ritual was to last for over a week, and twelve
lamas were called from a neighbouring monastery to hold the torgyap
ritual in Gangtok. The same ritual was to be held simultaneously by
the Pemayangtse lamas at the other end of the state. The torgyap has
the shape of a very large torma which is carried out of the lhakhang
on the shoulders of the lamas and cast or thrown down a hill with lots of
shouts of encouragement with the intention of sending the deity of the
ritual to ‘war’ against the enemies of the Dharma, the monastery or, in
this case, Beyul Demojong and its deities. On the last day of the ritual,
the torgyap was launched amidst lots of shouting from a hill overlooking
the buildings of the Sikkim Administration. As government servants
gathered on the balconies to see what was happening, the significance of
the ritual became apparent to everyone as the torgyap, by coincidence,13
was cast in the direction of the Department of Power.
By this time, practically everyone in Sikkim had heard of the hunger
strike and the demands of the CCS. A constant stream of villagers,
including those from Tingchim, visited the hunger strike tent and were
given information by volunteers. The cause was publicised throughout
the state on Radio Gangtok in both the Sikkimese and Lepcha lan-
guages. Lepchas, who had been resisting the construction of a mega

13
The direction in which a torgyap is cast is established through astrological calculations.
 the land, its problems and ritual solutions 237

hydro-electric project in North Sikkim simply by rolling boulders down

on the first road workers, started liaising with the CCS. Separate peti-
tions were submitted to the Chief Minister by the youth and the lamas
of Sikkim; files outlining the illegalities of the project were compiled
and sent to the Governor, the Chief Minister and the Minister of Envi-
ronment and Forest in New Delhi; Danny Denzongpa—a Sikkimese
film star of national status—started lobbying in Delhi and publicising
the cause in the national press; and a writ was prepared by Supreme
Court lawyer Rajiv Dhavan on behalf of the CCS for submission to
the Sikkim High Court.
We have seen how the illness of a villager may be attributed to a
wrongdoing perpetrated against the sacred land or its supernatural
population. In the same way, it is thought that destruction of the abode
of the protective deities of Beyul Demojong would bring misfortunes
and calamities of all kinds to Sikkim as a whole. In the case of the
Rathong Chu project, misfortunes began to occur on a larger scale:
daily road accidents, suicides, landslides and other misfortunes, mostly
during the time of the hunger strike. These are mentioned here in
order to illustrate the simple matter of factness with which Lhopos
attribute their cause whether at the village or at the state level. One
of the most striking examples was that of a Forest Officer who had
written a false report on the status of the flora and fauna in the area
of Yuksum. This false report had apparently been requested by the
Department of Power in order to obtain the necessary environmental
clearance for the project by the Central Government.14 One day, as he
was standing on the edge of the road just below Gangtok town, there
was a landslide and the officer collapsed under the mud and stones.
He was brought to the hospital and, on his death bed, confessed to
his wife that the supernatural beings of Yuksum were angry. Following
this, a bus accident occurred in Yuksum, killing five, and another bus
fell down the mountain, just in front of the house of the Secretary of
the Department of Power, killing fifteen. Then a junior engineer from
the Power Department committed suicide, followed by the death of a
Power Department accountant whose jeep went off the road. Around
the same time, an army jeep went down with ten people, as well as

14
Had the true richness of the fauna and flora of Yuksum been reported by the
Power Department, preliminary environmental clearance would probably not have
been granted by the Ministry of Environment and Forest, New Delhi.
238 chapter seven

a petrol truck, which fell directly into the Teesta. And, to everyone’s
amazement, a temporary dam built to divert the river at the site of
another unpopular hydro-electric project below Tashiding was washed
away by monsoon rains, along with a bulldozer. At this point, a certain
mass hysteria set in and women were begging the Secretary of the
Power Department to transfer their husbands from the Rathong Chu
onto another project. Lhopos with a guilty conscience who had col-
laborated with the Government for political reasons or financial gain
were actively performing rituals in their houses in order to calm the
wrath of the deities and hopefully counter the consequences of their
wrong actions.
Religious specialists of other ethnic groups started getting involved.
Among these, a Nepalese Pradhan woman fell into a trance, regularly
giving out warnings in the Sikkimese language about the consequences
of the project. The day following a high-level government meeting,
where it had been decided not to interrupt the work at the site, the
Pradhani matha went up to the residence of the Chief Minister and
immediately fell into a trance in front of him. Speaking through her
mouth, the deities of the land are said to have expressed themselves
directly to the Head of Government, saying that if the project was
not stopped, Sikkim would face many natural calamities and that his
government would fall. Belonging to the Rai community, known for its
belief in animism, the Chief Minister was said not to have remained
insensitive to this performance. Three days later, a meeting was set up
between the Chief Minister, his Deputy and Secretary, the Minister of
Power and the CCS. Sonam Paljor was carried from his fasting tent
to the Office of the Chief Minister and following their discussion and
several rounds of negotiations, an agreement was reached a few days
later. The hunger strike was called off on the 5th of July, as the Govern-
ment agreed to suspend work at the site for one week while an impartial
high-level committee thoroughly examined all aspects of the project,
taking into consideration its effect on the physical environment as well
as on the religion, culture and history of the ethnic minorities.
Unfortunately, the Government did not keep its promise, work was
not suspended at the site and the CCS decided that it was now time for
the lamas to come forward and defend their sacred land. A letter was
prepared and sent to the 60-odd monasteries of Sikkim, inviting the
lamas to descend onto Gangtok in large numbers for an anti-Rathong
Chu project demonstration. On the 29th of July 1995, some 500 lamas
walked through Gangtok carrying banners with the demand, “Please
 the land, its problems and ritual solutions 239

protect our sacred land.” They were followed by hundreds of Sikkimese

women chanting prayers. Thirty elderly lama-representatives from all
the monasteries of Sikkim along with Sonam Paljor met the Chief
Minister and presented him with a statue of Guru Rinpoche and a
copy of the Nesol text. The elderly lamas expressed their views against
the Rathong Chu project, explained why the sanctity of Yuksum must
be preserved and requested the Chief Minister to abandon the project
immediately. Some of the more radical lamas were ready to burn their
scriptures, as the Nesol would become redundant if the project were
to be built.
But again the demonstration failed to stop the project, and from then
on the matter was dealt with through the Sikkim High Court, and on
the 20th of September, an interim stay order was granted, asking that
all work be stopped at the project site. The Review Committee, which
had been promised as part of the deal that ended the hunger strike,
was eventually set up and submitted its report, which was strongly in
favour of scrapping the project. Despite all this, the case was lost in
the Sikkim High Court and eventually taken to the Supreme Court of
India in New Delhi, where hearings kept being delayed over several
months. Time passed and, from the CCS’s point of view, matters were
now in the hands of excellent lawyers in Delhi and, so to speak, left in
the lap of the gods. Work continued at the project site, and two years
later, a natural calamity hit Gangtok town. The capital was ravaged by
landslides which swept away a large number of houses and left some
60 people dead. Lamas and Rinpoches attributed the cause of the
landslides to the deities’ displeasure over Rathong Chu. The relation
between the project and the landslides was made particularly evident
to all by the fact that the hunger strike had started on the 8th of June
1995 and the landslide hit Gangtok on the 8th of June 1997.
Finally, on the 20th of August 1997, in a moment of political insta-
bility and for reasons seemingly unrelated to the project and its conse-
quences for the Lhopo and Lepcha communities, the Chief Minister,
before an audience of 5000 lamas and lay Lhopos and Lepchas gathered
at the stadium in Gangtok for the occasion, cancelled the Rathong Chu
hydro-electric project in the hope of regaining the confidence of the
Lhopo and Lepcha communities.
Like many Lhopos around the state, Tingchim villagers and par-
ticularly its lamas followed the events, endorsed the basic aims of
the campaign and participated in the lamas’ demonstration, which
demanded the preservation of the sacred land. Despite the fact that
240 chapter seven

Plate 26: The lamas’ demonstration in Gangtok on the 29th of June 1995

the project was located far from Tingchim, in an isolated corner of

the West District where many had never been, Tingchim villagers felt
deeply concerned by the need to preserve the sanctity of the area and
the supernatural consequences the violation of Yuksum could have for
all Sikkimese. Generally, villagers were much more aware and in fear
of these possible supernatural consequences than of the socio-cultural
repercussions the project and its thousands of migrant labourers might
have on the ethnic minorities of the area. Their previous experience
with this type of environmental destruction, like that of many other
villagers around the state, had been with road building. Stories abound
of the dramatic consequences of dynamiting large boulders to make
way for new roads. For example, it is said that on the road between
Rongrong and Mangan near Tingchim, five people had died under an
avalanche of rocks when a tsen’s abode had been blasted with dynamite.
And, as it has been earlier mentioned, it is thought that the Tingchim
lake nearly lost its life force when rocks were dynamited just below the
lake in order to make way for the new road in 1958.

This chapter has tried to illustrate the way in which land problems have
found expression and were dealt with ritually. Whether concerned with
the destruction of the landscape or with competition for the land and
 the land, its problems and ritual solutions 241

its resources, these examples have again suggested the extent to which
the body, the physical and social environments and the supernatural
are thought to be interrelated and affect each other. The unfolding of
these relations, which ultimately result in illness and misfortunes, seems
to express the villagers’ current concerns in a round-about way. The
sheer numbers of Nepalese settlers have been an ongoing threat to
the Sikkimese since the end of the twentieth century. For Lhopo and
Lepcha villagers alike, road construction and other development works
are threatening in many ways. These projects bring outside labourers,
among them many of Nepalese origin who build temporary shelters
on road sides and eventually find seasonal work in the surrounding
villages, marry local Nepalese girls and remain in the area once the
road or the construction project has been completed. The road, of
course, brings an increase in goods and services, merchants, seasonal
workers, religious specialists, the army and people of all kinds along
with their respective languages, cultures and temples. By now, outsid-
ers have even found legal and illegal ways to acquire protected tribal
land and, slowly but surely, will eventually outnumber, dispossess and
displace many Lhopo and Lepcha villagers from the region. Once they
lose their land, experience has proven that Lhopo and Lepcha farmers,
unless a member of the family is already educated and employed, have
great difficulties in adapting to new conditions and urban life, let alone
maintaining their language and culture.
Moreover, when wrong actions are performed against the environ-
ment, the agents ritually identified as performing these are often out-
siders in competition for natural resources, whether it be land, timber
or hydro-power. Through the intervention of the supernatural, these
agents are identified as the causes of illness and other misfortunes, and
may ultimately be perceived as a threat to the survival of the villagers
or even of the Lhopo community as a whole. Having lived under feudal
conditions for the better part of twentieth century, Lhopo and Lepcha
villagers have little tradition of political expression, and the little they
might have gained after the birth of the first political parties in 1947 was
further crushed during the autocratic rule of Nar Bahadur Bhandari,
which lasted for over a decade, until 1994. Under these conditions,
conflicts and tensions as well as the need to respond to threatening situ-
ations seem to find expression through the supernatural in a way that
is still common among Lhopos all over Sikkim. During the Rathong
Chu protest, urban and village Lhopos eventually did come together
and openly voiced their opposition, but this did not happen without
242 chapter seven

some resistance. In the initial stage of the protest, senior lamas were
very shy and had to be enlightened on the fact that times had changed
and that it would no longer be sufficient simply to perform rituals or
for their representatives to humbly and respectfully submit a petition
to the Government. The rituals of the land discussed in chapters 6
and 7 illustrate the way in which the pawo, the bongthing and the village
lama each have their own complementary spheres of ritual influence.
In theory, each relies on a different class of supernatural beings who
are regularly invoked during the biannual harvest offerings. The cur-
ing rituals illustrate particularly well how a given ailment, or rather its
cause, is better addressed by one ritual specialist than by another. This
complementarity is only possible because all accept and operate within
the same shamanic view of the universe.
PART III: THE HOUSEHOLD
 CHAPTER EIGHT

LIFE AND RITUAL CYCLES OF HOUSEHOLD MEMBERS

This chapter first looks at various factors which have brought consider-
able changes to Lhopo household composition in recent decades and
the forces which are having a direct impact on the relative household
wealth and occupation of its members today. The central position of
the household in Lhopo society is reflected in the importance given
to the performance of and attendance at rituals held either for the
household itself or as the rites of passage of its members. Attendance
at these domestic rituals, which are discussed in the second part of this
chapter, forms the basis of a network of mutual help in which partici-
pation is mandatory and defines community membership. These large
social gatherings, which take place essentially at weddings and funerals,
have always been an important aspect of Lhopo social life throughout
Sikkim. However, along with the other household rituals of village
religion, these have come to play an increasingly important role in
maintaining the ties of the extended families and the local community.
And, as we will see in chapter 10, these events seem to have gained a
new dimension for the whole Lhopo community following the political
upheavals of recent years. Household rituals gained in importance, and
the household appears to have replaced the monastery as the centre
of Lhopo social life following the decline of state level Buddhism in
post-1975 Sikkim, thus indirectly re-enforcing the shamanic worldview
on which some of these household rituals are based. These may also
be playing an increasingly important role in maintaining the ties of the
Lhopo community as a result of the general lack of political unity and
leadership among the Lhopos since the end of the monarchy.

1. The household

As everywhere in the agricultural regions of ethnic Tibet, the primary

social unit in the village is the corporate household along with its land,
buildings and domestic animals. However, the household in Sikkim does
246 chapter eight

not hold the same central importance as the household used to hold in
Dingri, for example (Aziz 1976), since clans and lineages have retained
some importance in terms of kinship, ritual and status definition. As
Aziz points out, Sikkim and other regions south of the Himalayan range
are distinctively patrilineal, with an ancestral cult and lineage gather-
ings for ritual purposes, something which is entirely absent in Dingri
(1976: 24–25).1 However, the performance of lineage rituals in Tingchim
declined considerably in favour of household rituals during the twentieth
century, something which can be attributed to the growing importance
of agricultural activities when villagers abandoned pastoralism, came
down from the mountains and became settled agriculturalists. Further,
the household generally gained importance everywhere in Sikkim when
J.C. White re-enforced the estate system and imposed a household tax
throughout the kingdom.

Plate 27: A large traditional wooden house in Tingchim with a red dö on the
roof erected for Masang Khyungdü, the warrior and ancestral god from Ha

1
I do not agree with Aziz’s hypothesis that the patrilineal descent system was perhaps
developed after the Bhutias migrated south of the Himalayas (1976: 35) since many
of these migrants, such as the Sherpas and the Sikkimese Lhopos, are known to have
come from eastern Tibet, where patrilineal descent is common.
 life and ritual cycles of household members 247

Various methods have been used in Tibet to keep the household

undivided (see Samuel 1993: 150), among which fraternal polyandry
helped maintain the unity of the household by keeping the land from
being divided among brothers from one generation to the next (Gold-
stein 1971, Levine 1988). Fraternal polyandry was common practice
in Sikkim until it was abolished by Crown Prince Sidkeong Tulku in
19122 in an effort to raise the Lhopos’ and the Lepchas’ birth rate in
relation to that of the Nepalese immigrants. It is very rare today, with
only one known case in the villages surrounding Tingchim, and land
is now divided among all married and unmarried brothers, including
the lamas. However, for the parents, the ideal of an undivided house-
hold remains, and sons will be encouraged to stay at home and work
together, along with their respective families, for as long as everyone
gets on. Each son will eventually inherit his share of land and set up
his own independent household—usually at different stages and for
different reasons—before the father’s death, but sometimes only after
he passes away.
The need for brothers to remain together has diminished consider-
ably since the 1960s, when Nepalese tenant farmers first settled in
Tingchim. Before that, land was still plentiful, while shortage of labour
was the greatest problem for all households, and brothers were encour-
aged to remain at home and work the family fields together. Following
the arrival of the Nepalese tenants, slash and burn cultivation, which
is more labour intensive, was gradually replaced by irrigated terrace
agriculture. Once labour was no longer a problem, it became necessary
for the Government to check the expansion of fields into the forest.
Private property was fixed by the Government when it undertook the
first survey in Tingchim in 1977–78 and 1979–80 and issued individual
land maps, at which point shortage of land became the new economic
obstacle. Now that it has become illegal to make new cardamom fields
out of Reserved Forest and Kashmal Land,3 brothers are tempted to
separate early in order to maximise their individual holdings by con-
verting grain fields to cardamom or experimenting with ginger and
other cash crops in order to invest in small businesses, such as running
a taxi-jeep to the market, or in the education of their children. They

2
Notice regarding abolition of polyandry in Sikkim and reduction in marriage
expenses. Council Resolution No 2 of 1 August 1912.
3
Both Reserved Forest and Kashmal Land (waste land for grazing) belong to the
Government.
248 chapter eight

hope that, with education, which was brought to the village in the early
1960s, their children may qualify for the government employment that
was created following the expansion of the bureaucracy after Sikkim’s
integration into the Indian Union,4—a possibility not only for men but
also for women. On the other hand, grandparents still prefer to keep
things unchanged and under their control for as long as possible and
are much more conservative in their approach to land use, experimen-
tal crops and education. During the time of the kingdom, the choice
of occupation was much more limited, as everyone was first of all a
farmer, and then perhaps a part-time village administrator, religious
specialist, trader, iconographer or wood carver.
Thus a typical household today is composed of the parents, their
unmarried children, and one or two married sons with their respective
families. Usually, the eldest or the second son will have moved out with
his family by the time of the marriage of the third son, so there are
rarely more than two married sons and their families living under the
same roof. Eventually, only one married son will remain and look after
the aging parents, inherit the house and receive a slightly bigger parcel
of land than his brothers. In theory, land should be divided equally
among brothers, although the eldest and the youngest are often given a
little more, as is the son who remains at home to look after his parents
in their old age. The latter is compensated with the small piece of land
the parents had kept for themselves after having divided the land among
their sons. There are no set rules as to whether the son who remains at
home should be the youngest or the eldest and when the others should
move out. The father will first decide which son will remain—usually
the most responsible and hard working, and married to the daughter-
in-law the parents get on with the best. Once this has been established,
the other married sons and their families will gradually move out after
having had one or two children at home and when the finances of the
corporate household are strong enough to sustain the expenses of the

4
There are twenty-six people originally from Tingchim on the government’s payroll,
of whom four are women; a total of eleven are still residing in the village. Another
form of temporary employment is what is called ‘contract work’. Such contracts are
for infrastructural improvements to be carried out in Tingchim, which mainly consist
of village road and public building construction and maintenance as well as various
electricity, water and plantation works issued in the form of contracts to villagers by the
Government of Sikkim through the local MLA and village Panchayat. About eleven
Tingchim youths have so far benefited from these contracts, which are considered the
best way, apart from regular government employment, of earning money locally.
 life and ritual cycles of household members 249

Plate 28: A new house with a wooden frame and cemented walls.
This is where I stayed during fieldwork

construction of a new house. The father looks after the finances and
manages all earnings and expenses of the household, and all children
with government employment, including married sons, are expected
to turn in the entire amount of their salaries as long as they still live
at home. Thus, it is the father’s responsibly to build a new house for
his sons when the time comes for them to move out, set up their own
household and inherit their share of land.
If the father is old or suffers from a serious illness, he may decide
or be encouraged to make a verbal will if his land has not yet been
divided. Such a precaution will prevent future land disputes and other
misunderstandings from arising among his sons. In making such a will,
the father will tell his sons which field goes to whom in the presence of
witnesses, which include a lama, one paternal and one maternal uncle
and, these days, a member of the Panchayat. Household items such as
carpets and blankets may also be divided among the sons. If the family
is rich enough, a daughter may be given jewellery,5 clothes, silk, bronze

5
A woman’s most valuable piece of jewellery, a large golden pendant studded with
corals, pearls and turquoises, may be given either to her daughter or to her daughter-
in-law.
250 chapter eight

plates, cattle or a little money for herself when she leaves home after
marriage. If land is plentiful, she may be given a small cardamom or
paddy field, or a parcel of land on which to build a house.
It is said that brothers always get on but that they eventually have
to separate when their respective wives start creating problems and
tensions, although there are cases of rebellious sons who are encour-
aged by the parents to move out sooner rather than later. When such
a time arises and funds are not available to build a new house, a tem-
porary arrangement is made. The separating brother and his family
will keep living under the same roof but will be given his share of land
and a section of the house, in which he will build a separate kitchen
and a separate entry with balcony. What defines a corporate unit is
the division of land, and once this has been accomplished, separate
kitchens where the produce of these independent parcels is consumed
becomes an obligation. At the time of fieldwork, there was one house
in Tingchim with two kitchens, and there were two cases of three
separate kitchens under the same roof, with all of the tenants waiting
to accumulate sufficient funds to build independent houses, usually in
the vicinity of the parental homes. Thus, although the total number
of houses in Tingchim was forty-nine, there were fifty-four registered
corporate households and landowners.
The majority of Tingchim households more or less share the same
standard of living, although one is considerably richer and some are
considerably more stable because they enjoy the monthly income of
a government servant. There are about four or five very poor Lhopo
households who sold or lost their land in various ways and, in some
cases, are now obliged to work for others on a daily wage basis. Gen-
erally, the poorest households will have fewer than two hectares of
cardamom, the average households between three and four, and the
richest households five, six or, in one case, as many as twelve. Despite
the possibilities of government employment, cardamom remains the
main source of wealth for everyone, but the majority of households
that are entirely dependent on the cardamom for cash revenue remain
exposed to unanticipated expenses and vulnerable to crop fluctuations.
If the cardamom harvest is exceptionally low, its income will not be
sufficient to cover a household’s regular expenses, or if there is an
unexpected expense such as a funeral to be paid for that year, villagers
without a government income within the household will have to bor-
row money or buy goods on credit from the local merchants. Because
of the exorbitant interest rate these merchants demand—up to 60%
per year—if villagers borrow from them once, it may take years to get
 life and ritual cycles of household members 251

out of their clutches. The majority of households, however, are neither

rich nor seriously indebted and just become more and more stable as
children gain employment or are successful with new cash crops or
business ventures.

Plate 29: Tashi Lhamo (sitting), the mother of the house where I stayed
252 chapter eight

2. Inter-ethnic marriages

While marriage with a pure Lhopo remains the most desirable choice,
alliances with Tibetans and especially Buddhist Lepchas have become
totally acceptable. There are a number of Lepcha wives in Tingchim
who, along with Tibetan women, are not discriminated against or
isolated by other women within the village. Marriage between Lhopos
and Lepchas has always been acceptable in Sikkim and many kaji
families are descendants of such alliances, while the Namgyal family
has often married ladies of the Tibetan aristocracy. However, I was told
that marriage between Lhopos and Lepchas is a recent phenomenon
in Tingchim and that the few Lepcha wives over sixty years old were
the first Lepchas to marry Lhopo men in Tingchim. This corroborates
Nakane’s data collected in 1955, which suggests that marriages between
Lhopos and Lepchas at the village level were rare, while inter-mar-
riages among the aristocracy had taken place to a surprising degree
(1966: 249).
A Lhopo mother’s greatest fear for her daughter is that she will
become pregnant by or elope with a non-Buddhist Nepalese—Limbu,
Rai, Chetri or Bāhun—since marrying a non-Buddhist Nepalese is
considered shameful among Lhopos. On the other hand, marriage with
Sherpas or other Buddhist highlanders of Nepalese origin, although
frowned upon, has nevertheless slowly become acceptable in Tingchim
because of their Buddhist background. Tibetan Buddhists, from any
ethnic community, are thought to form a group of ‘insiders’ (nang pa),
and marrying outside one’s own ethnic community may be tolerated
in Tingchim as long as one at least marries another ‘insider’. However,
marriage with members of any Nepalese community, whether Bud-
dhist or not, is a very recent phenomenon; the first case occurred in
Tingchim in the 1950s, when a Lhopo married a Sherpa, an alliance
which initially created a scandal all the way to Gangtok. In those days,
‘mixed’ Nepalese-Lhopo children in Sikkim became servants in Lhopo
households and had little chance of marriage into pure Lhopo fami-
lies. Another reason why Lhopo parents will do everything they can
to prevent an alliance with a member of any Nepalese community is
that, once marriage with a Nepalese has taken place in the family, it is
expected that more will follow as it may now become difficult for the
siblings, and certainly for the mixed couple’s children, to find Lhopo
spouses in the future.
 life and ritual cycles of household members 253

Nowadays, the main fear is that a Lhopo girl will marry someone from
a non-Buddhist community, whether Hindu or Christian. If a Lhopo
girl marries a Nepalese Hindu, she will have to convert to Hinduism,
something which is very difficult for her parents to accept. Not only will
she have difficulties adapting to her new environment, but she will be
partly rejected by her own community. Villagers won’t be at ease in her
presence when she comes back to visit her parents dressed in Nepalese
clothes and will talk behind her back. Similarly, a Nepalese Hindu girl
marrying a Lhopo boy will have to become Buddhist but will never be
accepted as an equal by the Lhopo women in the village.
At the time of fieldwork, there had been twenty-six alliances con-
tracted between Tingchim villagers and non-Lhopo spouses, of which
nineteen were residing in the village. Of these twenty-six alliances,
twenty-three were between Tingchim men and non-Lhopo women, and
only three were between Tingchim women and non-Lhopo men. Of the
twenty-three non-Lhopo women to marry Tingchim men, eight were
Lepcha (six residing in Tingchim), seven Sherpa (six in Tingchim), two
Tibetan, two Tamang, three Limbu, and one Rai, the last not residing
in Tingchim. The three Rai and Limbu husbands all reside in Gangtok
with their Tingchim wives.
The first non-Lhopo women to marry in Tingchim were all Lep-
cha, and most of these alliances were arranged marriages within well
established Tingchim households, which was not the case for the later
marriages contracted with members of the other communities. The
Lepchas were followed by Sherpas, Tibetans and Tamangs, and most
recently by Rais and Limbus, all of which were non-arranged or ‘love
marriages’. The Tamang and especially the Limbu brides now residing
in the village are considered hard-working and have all married either
within the poorest Tingchim households where no Lhopo girl would
willingly choose to live, or have married the sons of the Lhopo and
Sherpa wife who, because of their mixed parentage, would also have
difficulties finding a suitable Lhopo match.
One of Tingchim’s poorest households is headed by an orphan who
had been looked after by other villagers until he completed Class Four.
At the age of 15, his parents’ house was renovated and he started
looking after the little land he had inherited. A few years later, know-
ing that no Lhopo girl would want to settle in his poor household, he
married a Limbu girl after obtaining permission from village elders.
The Limbu wife converted to Buddhism and had two children. Some
254 chapter eight

time after I left the village, I heard that she got very ill, and following
the performance of a number of curing rituals that failed to produce
any results, her husband was promised by Nepalese Christians that if he
converted, his wife would soon be cured. These Christians proselytise in
hospitals, where they offer cash incentives to future converts in moments
of despair when the family’s resources have already been spent on the
patient. Both converted and, following her recovery and return to the
village, proceeded to convert their Lhopo neighbour and his wife, who,
although not among the poorest of the village, had hopes of curing
their two deaf-dumb children by converting to Christianity. As a result,
both Christian households were expelled from the village community
and no longer participate in the system of mutual help and exchange,
discussed below, which defines the community and includes all Lhopo
households in Tingchim.
Two men from Tingchim had converted to Christianity earlier, but
both no longer live in the village, nor do they entertain social relations
with Tingchim villagers. The first was also poor and from the pawo’s
family; he converted because he married a Lepcha from Kalimpong
and went to live with her. The second, although from an average family
with a government job, lived in town and married a Rai from Namchi;
they both converted when their son was cured through Christian rituals.
At the time of my last visit, another daughter from the pawo’s extended
family was about to convert in order to marry a Christian Rai who
had a job in town. These examples suggest that the recent trend for
poor Lhopos in Tingchim is either to marry a hard working Nepalese
or to become Christian through marriage or conversion when there is
simply no other way out of illness or destitution, or when they have
already been rejected because of their own mixed origins. Although
Lepchas from neighbouring West Bengal have been converting to
Christianity since the nineteenth century, conversion among Lhopos
is a very recent phenomenon, which is rapidly becoming a subject of
grave concern in Sikkim.

3. Rituals of the household and its members

Household or domestic rituals that are preventive in nature may either

concern the individual, the husband and wife, the household members
as a group, or the patrilineage. The major rituals or social events held in
honour of individuals are those that correspond to the rites of passage,
 life and ritual cycles of household members 255

while those performed for the benefit of all household members as a

group are either Buddhist rituals held in the family altar room or the
biannual harvest offerings in honour of the ancestral gods. The pawo’s
annual retreat, discussed in chapter 11, is the only lineage ritual still
held in Tingchim for the benefit of a group of households belonging
to the same patrilineage as the pawo.
Rituals or social gatherings that mark an individual’s passage from
one social state into another are those held after birth, at the differ-
ent stages of marriage, when a family moves into a new house and
establishes an independent corporate household, when a boy joins the
monastery, when someone enters a state of severe or chronic illness, and
at death. All these occasions are attended by at least one and sometimes
two members from each corporate household, and various amounts of
money—usually not less than Rs 50, along with chang and sometimes
one or two kilos of uncooked rice—are given in the name of each
household in order to help those holding the rituals. The amount of
money and the name of the donor are inscribed in one of two separate
registers, the first for weddings and funerals, and the second for all
other occasions. All Lhopo households throughout Sikkim, including
those residing in Gangtok, keep such registers and, when they are in
a position to have to reciprocate the donation they previously received
on a similar occasion held in their house, they will first consult their
register and give a slightly higher donation than they had originally
received from that household on a similar occasion. During such events,
people will line up and the main householder or his son will receive,
count and inscribe the name and amount given in the register in front
of everyone else. Guests are then entertained with food and chang, or
at least with tea and snacks, and may be given a piece of raw meat to
take home if an ox or pig was killed for the occasion.
While attendance at community Buddhist rituals held at the village’s
prayer hall, the Phodong monastery or the Palace chapel have gradually
diminished since the end of the Buddhist monarchy (see chapter 10),
attendance at household rituals held for rites of passage, particularly
weddings and funerals, has been well maintained. There is a strong
sense of obligation and solidarity that finds expression in these gather-
ings and the financial contributions that are offered on these occasions.
Through the use of the registers, these rituals bind all the village’s
corporate households into a strong network of mutual help. Participa-
tion in the system is mandatory and defines a corporate household’s
membership in the village community. Such membership also ensures
256 chapter eight

the exchange of labour between households for the cultivation of the

fields that have not been handed over to tenant farmers. Failure to
attend someone’s household ritual is unthinkable, as the non-represented
householder would become a social ‘outcast’ by effectively breaking
away and cutting himself off from one of the most basic ties that bind
villagers together. Quarrelling households on non-speaking terms are
not exempted and must attend each other’s household rituals as well as
make the prescribed contributions. In such cases, the quarrelling par-
ties will not attend in person but may instead send a son to deliver the
offerings. The importance attributed to this practice may be reflected
in the fact that contributions made on the occasion of different rites of
passage bear different names, although some of these have now been
forgotten. For example, the money offered at a wedding or an auspi-
cious occasion in Tingchim is called bada (sba ’da’ ), while the money
offered at a funeral is called tuso (thugs gso), and exchanging these terms
inadvertently is considered inauspicious.
Although these frequent obligations are often viewed as a burden
on a family’s financial resources, the solidarity and equality among
households they generate is highly valued and all are very much aware
that one day or another, it will be their household’s turn to be the
beneficiaries. Weddings and funerals are expensive and demand con-
siderable time and labour. Many would be incapable of holding them
if it were not for the contributions which they are certain to receive.
This sense of social obligation is so strong that the tradition has been
well maintained in Gangtok, where it has gained a new dimension
following its adaptation to the larger social networks of the urban set-
ting. Although participation is no longer always necessary to ensure
the exchange of agricultural labour through the ngala system, it does
ensure the proper performance of funerals for all rural and urban
Lhopos. A funeral, from a religious point of view, is a person’s most
important rite of passage. Today, urban Lhopos find themselves having
to attend numerous weddings and funerals, not only in town, but in all
corners of Sikkim where they entertain social relations with extended
family, colleagues and friends. It is common for urban Lhopos to meet
regularly at Dechenling, Gangtok’s funeral ground, at least once, if not
two or three times, a month, or whenever a common relative, friend or
colleague, or someone within their households, passes away. In town,
contributions offered at funerals, weddings and other rituals may at
times amount to half the monthly salary of a civil servant.
 life and ritual cycles of household members 257

3.1. Birth
One or two weeks after birth, the piake (bya’ skes—‘to bring chicken’)
is held at home in honour of the newborn. One woman per house-
hold—or man, in the absence of a woman in the house—as well as
close relatives from neighbouring villages will come to the house of
the newly born in order to offer a live chicken. These days, people
also offer clothes or blankets in addition to a chicken, or money if
they can’t attend the pyake in person. Women dress up in their fine
brocades for the occasion and all the chickens, which are considered
a delicacy, are killed, cooked and offered to the guests for lunch. No
ritual specialists are involved at the pyake, which is essentially a women’s
party where the baby is introduced. In other villages in Sikkim, a lama
may be invited three days after birth in order to recite a purification
prayer called drib sang (sgrib bsang), whereby the mother and the child
are offered scented water. The child is named by the parents, but may
also be named by a Rinpoche should one be passing through the area
some time after the birth.
If the newborn baby of a couple is their first son, an important ritual
will be held by the pawo or the bongthing the day preceding the pyake.
The Masang shode (Ma sangs sha’u ’das)6 ritual is an offering to Masang
Khyungdü and the other pho lha of the patrilineage, to give thanks
for this first son who will now perpetuate the lineage.7 We have seen
in chapter 3 that Masang Khyungdü is the most important pho lha or
lineage protector. He is a mountain deity residing on the mountain
range separating the Bhutanese valley of Ha and the Tibetan valley
of Chumbi close to Sikkim. The ritual is attended by one person per
corporate household, who offers the appropriate financial contribution
that is inscribed in the family register. In the ‘distant past’, the offering
to Masang was called bon yak (bon g.yag), and a whole yak or mountain
sheep was sacrificed, the blood being offered to the nöpa and the head

6
Masang shode is an offering ritual held on three occasions by the bon ritual specialists:
(1) for the birth of a first son, (2) during the initiation ritual which will install a new
pawo, and (3) in case of serious illness. In the past, the meat of a sacrificed animal was
presented and offered on its hide.
7
This thank you ritual for the birth of a first son cannot be performed by the nejum
(a woman) since only male ritual specialists may officiate.
258 chapter eight

and hind leg to Masang and other pho lha.8 On this occasion, a large
red dö was offered to Masang and erected on the roof of the house.9
Later, and until the 16th Karmapa’s intervention in Tingchim on the
subject of animal sacrifice in the early 1960s, an ox was sacrificed
instead. This bon yak offering has now been replaced by a go sha nga
(mgo sha lnga),10 which today in Tingchim consists of an ox’s head and
a back leg11 obtained from the butcher that are boiled and placed on
a flat basket in front of the torma representing the various pho lha.

3.2. Marriage
Like most inhabitants of the Tibetan cultural areas, the people of
Tingchim believe that a person inherits his bones from his patrilineage
and his flesh from his matrilineage. People of the same patrilineage
sharing the same ‘bone’ can never intermarry—and in this sense the
patrilineages are strictly exogamous—while it is possible to marry
someone with whom one shares a certain level of ‘flesh’, meaning
that marriage within the mother’s lineage is permitted under certain
conditions. A man may only marry his cousin on his mother’s side

8
In the Bhutanese valley of Ha, Khyung du is still being offered a yak on an annual
basis. See Pommaret 1996 for his identities and the details of the rituals. In the same
article, Pommaret also mentions that once a year, the pawo and nejum of Ha meet and
perform a special ritual for this deity. The people of Tingchim, who migrated from
Ha to Sikkim in the seventeenth century, still talk about this ritual that their pawo and
nejum ancestors used to perform collectively.
9
The bon practice of erecting a large red dö for Masang on the roof of the house
is still maintained by three households in Tingchim. It is erected every first month
of the lunar calendar and offered to Masang as warrior and ancestral god. The
large traditional house shown earlier in this chapter in photograph 27 has a red dö
for Masang on its roof. In the past, the same ritual was held before going to war. A
similar white dö along with a red one used to be erected on the roofs of the houses
in the villages of West Sikkim in honour of Pashi Pho lha and his tsen attendant on
the occasion of a clan gathering ritual held every few years in the houses of different
clan members on a rotating basis. This ritual is still occasionally held by Jowo Bonpo
of Chongpung village.
10
The go sha nga is an important type of offering in all Lhopo villages, and the
offering in Tingchim, because of its origin as a bon yak, differs from the go sha nga per-
formed in West Sikkim, where, in a lively discussion with senior villagers at a wedding,
I was once given several versions. As the words indicate—mgo ‘head’ and sha nga ‘five
meats’—the offering in West Sikkim may consist of either the head of the ox cut in
four, with the brain as the fifth offering; or the head cut in two halves, with the brain
and two ribs; or even the head along with five different pieces of internal meat such
as parts of lung, stomach, liver, bowels, etc.
11
Contrary to the practice in other areas, a hind leg in Tingchim is offered to the
real pho lha while a front leg is given to a pseudo-pho lha.
 life and ritual cycles of household members 259

if a gap of at least three generations separates the new spouses. The

actual rule is seven generations, but these days a three-generation gap
is tolerated. Under exceptional circumstances, a man may marry his
maternal cross-cousin or his mother’s brother’s daughter—known as
ashang pum machi (a zhang pum ma cig)12—although this is only a tolerated
form of alliance, of which there are no cases in Tingchim.13
A traditional wedding is expensive, requires long preparations and
used to be carried out in four steps spread over a period of three con-
secutive winters.14 While the richer families have the funds, time and
manpower to insist on maintaining tradition, poorer families and the
families of grooms who work as civil servants will follow shorter and
simpler ways, the latter not being free to work for their fathers-in-law
for the period of two to three years required by the traditional form
of marriage. Further, the traditional form asks for the expensive killing
of a large number of animals, both to feed the guests and as part of
a complex system of gift exchange between the families.15 Since the
killing of animals has recently lost popularity for Buddhist reasons, this
has also become a common excuse when a family opts for a shorter
and simpler form.
The wedding steps as they used to be performed in Tingchim16 are
as follow:

12
A zhang means mother’s brother, pum daughter and ma cig, which means ‘same as
mother’, is the term of address for the elder brother’s wife. This could indicate that,
in the past, the elder brother’s wife frequently came from his own mother’s lineage,
since she is considered the ‘same as mother’.
13
According to Dollfus (1989: 217), marriage with the mother’s brother’s daughter
has been observed in Dolpo, Helambu and Bharagon in the Nepal Himalayas but is
unknown in Tibet. It is common in eastern Bhutan (Lham Dorji 2003).
14
Wedding parties and rituals are always held in the winter, when there is no work
to be done in the fields.
15
The exchange of gifts of food and money is an important aspect of Lhopo social
networks. As we have seen with the system of registers, gifts are brought to friends and
relatives on a number of occasions and for a variety of purposes. This system bears
resemblance to that of China as described in The Flow of Gifts (Yunxiang Yan 1996).
16
The wedding steps, their names and the details of gifts and requirements will vary
between different areas in Sikkim and are especially different in West Sikkim, where
families are generally richer and will offer more substantial gifts, demand higher bride
prices—fifty to one hundred grams of gold—and eventually give larger gifts to the
couple (bag log). These gifts, sometimes called ‘dowries’, should not be understood as
dowries in the conventional sense but as a way of reciprocating gifts that were previ-
ously received. They usually consist of household items for the new couple, jewellery
or a small piece of land intended for the bride’s personal use.
260 chapter eight

1. The formal proposal: kha chang (kha chang). At this first stage, the
aku pami (a ku bar mi—the boy’s middleman or representative, usually
his paternal uncle) visits the parents of the prospective bride in order
to formally propose his nephew with a gift of chang. If the boy and
the girl already know each other and it is understood that the girl has
already informally agreed,17 and if their respective astrological charts
have already been consulted for compatibility, the girl’s parents may
accept the gift of chang and give their approval on the spot. Before
giving their formal reply, both families must also agree on the amount
of the bride price that the boy’s father will have to pay,18 something
which may previously have been suggested indirectly, as well as the
type of wedding that will be held. It is up to the boy’s father, via the
aku pami, to say whether he will insist on a traditional wedding or not,
since it is his son who may or may not be able to work for his future
father-in-law, and the cost of the celebrations will be much higher for
the boy’s family than for the girl’s if traditional steps are followed. If
any of these points need to be clarified or negotiated, the girl’s par-
ents will delay giving their reply in order either to consult the girl, the
astrologer or other relatives, or to wait for the boy’s parents’ reply on
a disputed point. Once the girl’s parents agree, the new couple can
sleep together from then on, usually in the girl’s house when the future
husband comes to work for his future father-in-law, but also in the boy’s
house when she visits her future in-laws for a few days at a time. The
couple will not permanently live together until all the wedding steps
have been completed, the bride price has been paid, and the bride is
formally sent away to her new home. If the girl gets pregnant during
this period, the actual wedding (step 3 below) will have to be held
before the birth of the child. On the other hand, if the couple or the

17
The boy might have already secretly sent a common friend to ask her if she would
marry him before the aku pami goes to propose him to the parents.
18
The amount of the bride price to be paid will vary considerably depending on
the region, the relative wealth of the concerned families, the type of wedding which
has been agreed upon and the general situation of the couple. In the case of a fully
traditional wedding in Tingchim, where the groom works for his father-in-law for a
period of two to three years, the bride price will be as low as Rs 500 ($14). In the
case of a non-traditional wedding, where the groom does not work for his father-in-
law, the bride price in Tingchim may be as high as Rs 10,000 ($285). Among rich
farming families of West Sikkim, the bride price, in addition to fifty to hundred grams
of gold, may be well over Rs 50,000 ($1428). These were the going prices in 1995.
Among professional Gangtok families, it is common for the girl’s parents to renounce
their right to a bride price for the hand of their daughter.
 life and ritual cycles of household members 261

families decide to call off the wedding, this may still be done before
the performance of the khelen which would pronounce them husband
and wife during step 3 of the wedding. In the unlikely event that the
girl gets pregnant and the wedding is called off, the child will remain
with her parents and will not hinder her chances of a new marriage;
on the contrary, the child would be a proof of her fertility.
In some cases, a girl will accumulate a number of official proposals
and, with the help of her parents and the astrologer, will select the
most suitable husband. On the other hand, some girls may not receive
a single proposal, under which circumstances they will remain and
work in their parents’ house and eventually in their brothers’ houses.
Unless suffering from infirmity, all women in the village will eventually
marry—for example, at a later stage to a widowed man19 in order to
look after his children.

2. The engagement: nang chang tung she ( gnang chang thung shed ) or sim-
ply nang chang.20 This is an engagement party held in the girl’s house,
usually a few weeks after the formal proposal. It may also be held the
following year depending on the astrologer’s success in finding an auspi-
cious date21 and both families’ financial position. Three lists of guests
would have been prepared previously by the girl’s family and handed
over to the boy’s family, indicating the girl’s immediate and second-
ary relatives and general guests from the village—two per household.
According to these three lists, the boy’s family must prepare for all of
the guests gifts of meat, chang, chum (uncooked rice) and biasu (rice or
maize snacks)—called jitsen (bzhi mtshan) or sumtsen ( gsum mtshan)22—which
will be individually packed in an aesthetically pleasing manner in cloth
bags and banana leaves tied with bamboo strips and brought over by

19
Widowed women may also re-marry.
20
From gnang ‘to ask’, and chang thung shed ‘will drink beer’.
21
The astrologer will be consulted on many points throughout the stages of the
wedding. His calculations will dictate practically everything, from the colour of the
bride’s and the groom’s dresses to the astrological signs of specific members of their
respective parties or the time the bride will eventually leave her natal home for that
of her husband. Such calculations can be pushed to various extremes depending on
the families’ inclinations.
22
Immediate relatives of the girl will receive what is called jitsen, which consists of
a chicken, chang, chum (uncooked rice) and biasu; secondary relatives will receive jitsen
with pork instead of chicken, with chang, chum and biasu; and general guests will receive
sumtsen, which consists of pork, chang and chum without biasu. In West Sikkim, the gifts
presented to the main relatives of the girl are usually more substantial.
262 chapter eight

porters, along with the aku pami, the only person from the boy’s fam-
ily who will accompany the groom and attend the nang chang as the
parents’ representative. At one point during the celebrations, the boy
and the girl will each be offered a silk scarf (kha btags), along with an
offering of money and best wishes, by all the girl’s relatives and guests
in proportion to the meat they were each given ( jitsen and sumtsen),
which is later handed over to the bride’s father. The silk scarf and the
money are first given to an elder man who, as he presents them to the
couple on behalf of the guests, will pronounce the labdön (lab ’don), a
poetic way of praising the guest, his offering and his best wishes to the
couple. The girl’s father will now present an additional special gift of
meat called gyari (rgya ri’i), which consists of roasted pork, beef, money
and a silk scarf, to his daughter’s most important relatives, who will
later accompany her during the last stage of the wedding, when she
leaves her natal house for that of her husband. No ritual specialists are
yet involved at this stage. From this point, the boy is expected to start
working part-time for his father-in-law, sometimes only one day a week
or for longer periods depending on the agricultural load.
During the nang chang and all subsequent marriage parties, the bride,
the groom and their main relatives will be dressed in wrap-around
dresses called go ( gos) made of bright coloured Chinese silk. Men wear
an additional sleeveless silk vest over their go, much in the Chinese style.
These costumes are heirlooms, shared by the whole family and only
taken out at weddings, New Year and other such celebrations. Since
the colour to be worn will be determined by the astrologer, these go
are easily exchanged and passed around among relatives until everyone
finds a suitable size and colour for the occasion, as long as no one
outshines the couple.

3. The wedding: nyen sha sa she ( gnyen sha za shed ).23 This is the actual
wedding, again held in the girl’s house one year after the engagement
or on whatever auspicious date has been set by the astrologer. The
wedding or nyen, for which the boy’s father will have provided and sent
over a whole pig, an ox and other gifts of food, is attended by the guests
and relatives of the girl’s family. The groom is again accompanied by
the aku pami, the parents’ representatives and perhaps a brother and a
friend. In many other regions of Sikkim, when the groom arrives at the

23
From gnyen ‘wedding’, and sha za shed ‘will eat meat’.
 life and ritual cycles of household members 263

Plate 30: A simple wedding in Tingchim

house of the bride, he and his party are beaten with stinging nettles
by the women of the house and covered with flour. They are beaten
until the women are given a suitable amount of money to let them in.
The animals are eaten by the gathering and equal pieces of raw meat
are distributed to the guests and relatives, after which the bongthing or
the pawo recites the khelen (see below) and everyone offers silk scarves,
best wishes and money to the couple.
The most important moment of the wedding, which occurs before
the scarf offering ritual, is the recitation of the khelen, when the pawo
or the bongthing invites the pho lha mo lha to witness and legitimise the
alliance. The union of husband and wife may only gain recognition
once the khelen has been pronounced. Nowadays, as we will see below,
this step is generally performed in the boy’s house. During the khelen,
the pho lha mo lha of both the bride and the groom (dmag ko—son or
brother-in-law) are individually invoked, followed by the local deities
of Sikkim and the nöpa of the area, and offered chang and serkyem liba-
tion, with the dual purpose of introducing the new couple so that
these beings may witness the new alliance as well as announcing the
spouses’ respective lineages and ancestors to the guests. The ancestral
gods are asked to bless the couple with long life, happiness and a joy-
ful marriage as well as good crops, six sons who will each be rulers of
their own domain, happy daughters, wealth and cattle. The bongthing
264 chapter eight

Plate 31: Preparation of meat distribution of pork for the wedding guests

then pronounces the couple husband and wife, which in local terms
is done by ‘giving them a name’. The groom is simply named the
‘husband of the wife’ and the bride the ‘wife of the husband’ and on
this basis can legitimately ‘exist’. Being named as such in front of the
ancestral gods is the only way by which a couple may gain its social
existence, and any relationship other than an ‘existing’ one is said to
bring pollution or drib to the village, followed by the displeasure of the
pho lha mo lha and the wrath of local nöpa in the form of illness, hail
storms, thunder and land slides. Although ‘non-existent’ relationships
are initially tolerated, they must remain extremely discreet if the formal
proposal (kha chang) has not yet been made, but are dealt with severely
only in cases of pregnancy, in which event the lover is encouraged to
 life and ritual cycles of household members 265

marry the girl before the birth of the child. In the unlikely event that
marriage doesn’t follow, the baby will be raised by the girl’s parents.
The importance of the ‘naming’ of the couple is conveyed by the use
of metaphors. When it was explained to me, mushrooms were used
as an example to illustrate how dangerous the consequences could be
to consume unidentified mushrooms found in the jungle to which no
name had been assigned. And during the khelen, the husband is told
that by being given his name of ‘husband of the wife’, he is given a
handle so that he may now use his sword. The khelen then continues,
promising that this new couple will generously sponsor lamas, will be
great subjects of the king and will be kind to the poor.

4. The sending away and receiving of the bride: tong len kyab she ( gtong
len skyab shed ).24 This is the last of the traditional marriage steps, held in
both the girl’s and the boy’s houses one year after the actual wedding or
nyen, when the girl is formally sent away from her house and received in
her new home. Three days before the second part of the tong len is held
in the boy’s house, a ritual is held in the girl’s house which is attended
by the girl’s relatives and guests along with the boy and his representa-
tive. At this stage, all the relatives and guests of the girl’s family who
received the gifts ( jitsen and sumtsen) during the nang chang engagement
will now return them, except for the meat, which they had in reality
reciprocated when they offered money to the couple. The returned gifts
of chang, chum and biasu, called kyelo (skyes log), are stocked in the girl’s
house until the second part of the tong len, to be held three days later
in the boy’s house. The boy’s family would have already prepared and
handed over the three lists of immediate and secondary relatives and
guests who will be attending the tong len in the boy’s house, for all of
whom the girl’s family will now have to prepare the gifts of jitsen and
sumtsen by adding the required meat to the kyelo or returned gifts. A
yangku ( g.yang ’gug) ritual is held by a group of lamas in the girl’s house
so that the element of yang ( g.yang), which is necessary to the production
of wealth and prosperity, will not leave the household when the girl is
sent away. As usual, a piece of raw meat provided by the girl’s father is
distributed to the guests, against which the couple receives silk scarves,
best wishes and money in excess of the value of the meat in order to
cover the expenses of the party. The boy’s representative may or may

24
From gtong ‘to send’, len ‘to receive’, and skyab shed ‘will do’.
266 chapter eight

not be offered the gyari (extra gifts of meat and money) depending on
the financial position of the girl’s father.
A couple of days later, eight or nine lamas will start a similar but
more elaborate Buddhist ritual in the boy’s house, which will last for
two days, where a Kagyud text is read and its ritual performed from
five thirty in the morning until nine in the evening. These Buddhist
rituals are purely preventive in nature and are performed so that both
families may preserve themselves during this period of transition. The
bongthing is the ritual specialist who actually pronounced them husband
and wife since lamas do not get involved in rites of passage that are
the creation of men.
The next day, guests start arriving at the boy’s house for the second
part of the tong len at around eight in the morning, while the girl leaves
her house at an auspicious time, preferably early morning, determined
by the astrologer, along with her party, which is composed of her ashang
(mother’s brother), her ani (a ni—mother’s brother’s wife), her aku (a
ku—father’s brother), her brother, her sister, a girlfriend and the bagpön
(bag dpon), the chief guest or head of the wedding group. The bagpön
may or may not be a relative, as his astrological sign and general char-
acteristics are determined by astrology, but under no circumstances can
it be her father, and preferably not one of her maternal or paternal
uncles. Along the way, somewhere on the village path between both
houses, a welcoming reception and resting point is set up by the boy’s
family, with carpeted seats for the chief guests where refreshments are
served to all. This resting point is particularly important when the girl’s
party has come on foot from a distant village. When arriving at the
house, the girl goes directly into the kitchen in order to perform her first
domestic task, such as churning milk or lighting the fire, which would
have been determined beforehand by the astrologer. At the entrance
of the house, a stack of wood and a vessel of water are placed, these
representing the essential commodities the bride will require to make
this a comfortable home. The girl’s party then proceeds to the altar
room, where they prostrate to the groom’s family altar.
The kyelo, or the gifts of chang, chum and biasu, which had previously
been returned by the girl’s relatives and guests and stocked in the girl’s
house, are sent with the girl and her party down to the boy’s house,
along with the meat—which this time is provided by the girl’s father—for
distribution of jitsen and sumtsen to the relatives and guests of the groom’s
family. As usual, the latter then offer money and silk scarves to the
couple, which are then handed over to the groom’s father. Once the
 life and ritual cycles of household members 267

Plate 32: The altar of an elaborate domestic Buddhist ritual

money is counted, the girl and her delegation are presented with the
gyari, the special gift of roasted pork, beef, money and a silk scarf, after
which the same relatives now present scarves and money to the couple,
again in a larger amount than what they themselves had been given
by the boy’s family during the nang chang engagement.25 It is during the
tong len that the father of the boy will now pay the bride price that had
been agreed upon when the marriage was initially negotiated. When the
girl finally leaves home during the tong len, or usually at an unspecified
later moment, she may be given jewellery, clothes, silk, bronze plates,
cattle or a small piece of land by her parents if they can afford to do
so, although this step is not mandatory.26 All the guests stay for lunch,
enjoying food and drinks while the lamas continue with their ritual in

25
Among the richer families of West Sikkim, those close relatives of the girl who
initially received the jitsen at the engagement will not simply return it with extra money
during the tong len as is done in Tingchim. They will return it by presenting household
gifts at an even later stage, at a party held in the girl’s house one or two years after
the tong len.
26
In West Sikkim, this last step is usually held one year after the girl has moved into
her husband’s house. The couple may be given household items or the bride may be
given a small piece of land on which to build a house or to provide her with a small
income for her personal needs.
268 chapter eight

the altar room of the house. At one point, when the lamas perform
the tashi chö (bkra shis chos) ritual, a torma richly decorated with fruit and
snacks, called a tashi tom (bkra shis gtor ma—‘auspicious torma’ ), is car-
ried by the bride, her friend and her new mother-in-law from the altar
into a secluded room where the three women enjoy eating it together
privately. This is an expression of the household’s happiness over the
bride’s arrival and that, this time, she will not be going away.
These lengthy wedding steps are now rarely, if ever, followed in
Tingchim or anywhere else in Sikkim.27 Today, the most common form
in Sikkim is to have a proposal (step 1. kha chang), generally but not
always followed by a small engagement ritual (step 2. nang chang) for
immediate family members in the girl’s house, and then combine the
wedding (step 3. nyen) and the first step of the sending away (step 4.
tong len) into a single celebration held in the girl’s house a few weeks,
a few months or a year after the initial proposal (step 1. kha chang). If
such a procedure is followed, the khelen pronouncing them husband
and wife is then held during the last stage, when the girl is received
into the groom’s house (step 4. tong len), instead of during the wedding
at the girl’s. In this case, the tong len in the boy’s house is usually held
one or two days after the celebrations in the girl’s house instead of
one year later. This shorter formula has emerged in recent years since
more and more grooms are civil servants or otherwise employed and
cannot work for their fathers-in-law during the years separating the
wedding steps. As far as Tingchim is concerned, this shorter formula
is basically an adaptation of an older form of marriage by elopement,
where the kidnapping groom had to pay a heavy fine for having taken
the girl away without the consent of the parents and for not having
worked for the father-in-law. According to this latest form, the boy in
Tingchim has to at least pretend that this was a marriage by elopement
and pay a heavy fine as a compensation for his incapacity to work for
his father-in-law.28

27
Weddings in the region of Kheng in Bhutan (Lham Dorji 2003) are similar to
the Sikkimese wedding steps. They also include an ‘asking’ ceremony, a wedding, a
sending-off ceremony and a concluding event where the bride is given presents by
her parents. Slaughtered pigs are also sent to the bride’s house by the groom’s father.
Interestingly, the groom is also made to work for his in-laws for a number of years
until the bride is sent away to her new home.
28
In the case of an elopement or marriage the ‘short-cut way’, the bride price is
considered to be a fine for having taken the girl without asking and for not follow-
ing the traditional steps, and as a compensation for not working for the father-in-law
 life and ritual cycles of household members 269

A mother-in-law will always prefer to obtain a bride for her son from
another village in order to keep a healthy distance between the bride
and her family so as to avoid disputes or misunderstandings. But this
ideal is not always realised since, in tension with this, mothers always
prefer to find a groom for their daughters as close to home as pos-
sible, so that they may not lose them completely. Thus, general prefer-
ence for village exogamy remains theoretical, as many girls do marry
within the village.29 Another preference, of which there are four cases
in Tingchim, is for two brothers to marry two sisters, which is again
done in an attempt to limit potential disputes between in-married wives
and affines. If one marriage has been successful, both families tend to
favour a second between them, not only because it has already been
proven that they can get on as in-laws, but because two sisters are more
likely to live harmoniously in their new home than two unrelated wives.
And as we have seen, marriage with the mother’s brother’s daughter is
permitted, although it is not a preferred type of alliance.30

for two or three years. The going rate in Tingchim at the time of fieldwork was Rs
10,000 ($285).
29
The most important quality of a wife, according to Lopen Dugyal and my sec-
ond research assistant, Rabden, who both married while I was living in Tingchim,
was good character—which they summarised as showing respect to elders and being
gentle, polite, faithful, honest, sincere, compassionate and good natured. Whether or
not the potential wife was hard-working, educated or beautiful was a secondary crite-
rion. Good character was by far more important, and they assured me that this was
a quality all Sikkimese mothers-in-law would be looking for when looking for a nam
(mna’ ma—daughter-in-law). A woman with good character emanates a quasi-religious
aura since, through her virtuous behaviour, she emulates that of the celestial female
being or khandro, a term also applied to the consort of a Rinpoche. Being compared to
a khandro is probably the greatest compliment a woman can receive, while the opposite
would be to be accused of being either a barmo witch or a poisoner, two supernatural
states which are imbued with all the negative qualities a woman can display, such as
envy, jealousy, and a predisposition to use covert means, even killing, to attain her
selfish aims; basically, secretly taking life and wealth from others, rather than creating
these and looking after the welfare of others (see chapter 7).
30
There are two kinds of tacitly permitted relationships which are still tolerated and
which will not call for divorce or provoke the displeasure of the pho lha mo lha because
they remain within the family, do not threaten community purity, as in the case of
relations with Nepalese, nor do they violate lineage exogamy, and can even contribute
to the lineage’s longevity. It should be stressed that, although tacitly allowed, these
relationships do not occur frequently. A man may have a joking relationship with his
wife’s unmarried younger sister, whom he refers to as his nyimo (snyig mo). Should the
nyimo give birth to a child, it would normally remain with the elder sister and belong
to her husband’s lineage. In the past, such relationships were frequent and could result
in a second marriage, especially in the event of the first wife’s death or if she was
barren, in which latter case both sisters lived together with the husband. But once the
wife’s younger sister has been married off to another family, then it is her husband’s
270 chapter eight

3.3. Building a new house and establishing a corporate household

When intending to build a new house, the first thing to establish is its
location. New houses do not have to be built next to the parental house
or that of other close relatives, but it often happens this way, as the
site of the parental home is usually the only good piece of flat land
owned by the family within the village. The main criteria for house
site selection are access to water, animal fodder and wood, and how
one gets along with the neighbours. Once this has been established
and a few possible sites have been selected, soil from each site is col-
lected and put in an envelope along with the location’s name. These
envelopes are then taken to a Rinpoche who, through divination or
meditation, will select the most auspicious site where no nöpa has taken
up residence. The pawo and bongthing may also be consulted for this
purpose but are said not to be as reliable as the Rinpoches. When the
16th Karmapa was still alive, some villagers went as far as Rumtek, a
four-hour journey by bus from Tingchim, in order to consult him for
house site selection.
Once construction of a new house has started, social events and ritu-
als are held at three different stages. The first two are meant to help the
family doing the house building financially, while the third, called khim
sa tashi (khyim gsar bkra shis—‘good luck for the new house’), is a formal
invitation to villagers with rituals performed by the lamas a few months
after the house has been completed. In the first stage, when the frame
is finished and the first pillar or door goes up (skes chang), one woman
per household will bring a bag of chang along with Rs 150 to Rs 300
as a contribution towards the cost of house building. Then when the
family moves in ( gzhis len), again one person per house, either man or

younger brother who may now have a joking relationship with her if the elder brother
agrees. She has become his machi or a man’s elder brother’s wife. The status of machi
is also extended to a man’s paternal cousin’s wife provided that the cousin is elder to
him. The husband is then considered the father of any children she may have, but
in the event of his death, it is now the younger brother or cousin’s responsibility to
marry his machi and look after all of her children. On the subject of incest, today, as
in the past, the main relations of avoidance besides siblings and close cousins—except
the mother’s brother’s daughter—are with the wife’s elder sister, addressed as gyumo
(rgyugs mo) or ‘mother-in-law’, between a father and his son’s wife or nam, as well as
between an elder brother and his younger brother’s wife, who is equally addressed by
him as nam. In all three cases, the parties involved are expected to remain ‘shy’, and
not become too familiar with each other. Doing otherwise would create pollution or
drib and offend the pho lha mo lha and the surrounding nöpa, who in turn could cause
problems for the family and the village.
 life and ritual cycles of household members 271

woman, will visit the new house and bring a smaller donation of Rs
50 along with a bag of chang. In the old days, people were given pots,
plates, seeds and carpets, but now money is preferred. The guests are
offered food and chang but no rituals are performed. Seven or eight
months later, when khim sa tashi is held, two people per household are
formally invited. The man will bring a smaller amount of money and
the woman chang and rice. An ox is usually killed for lunch and pieces
of meat are given to the guests to take home. Lamas will perform a
purification (rab gnas) ritual for the house, as well as a general offering
ritual along with the Nesol. Khim sa tashi is effectively a rite of passage,
which formally marks the family’s entry into the social world of inde-
pendent corporate householders, since this usually coincides with the
moment of house-building.

3.4. Joining the monastery

Although they may no longer send their brightest son to the monastery,
parents still like to have one lama within the family for purely religious
reasons.31 Not only will they gain merit for their next life by dedicating
one son to the Dharma, but this son may also pray for them in their
old age and ensure they are given a proper funeral. Although he will
wear the robes of a lama and join the monastic school at a young age,
a boy may only be initiated as a lama once he has memorised some
four basic ritual texts—although this requirement is no longer strictly
observed. The initiation (sgrig zhugs) may be done at any age, but it is

31
Upon his return from Oxford (Pembroke College) in 1908, Crown Prince Sidkeong
Tulku took over a large proportion of the administration—Departments of Education,
Monasteries and Forest—and introduced a number of reforms in an attempt to reduce
the feudal conditions in the kingdom and improve the level of education. In 1912, he
concentrated his efforts on the abolition of salutation by prostration before kajis and
ordinary lamas, the abolition of fraternal polyandry, the education of women and the
compulsory education of kajis’ sons. It is said that around the same time, Sidkeong
Tulku ordered that all Lhopo and Lepcha houses had to have an altar room (lhakhang)
and that all second sons had to become lamas. Whether implemented or not, con-
sidering the enormous respect and indirect authority lamas still enjoyed within their
communities until the end of the Buddhist monarchy in 1975, the brightest sons
were usually sent to the monasteries, which were considered the repositories of true
knowledge and, for many, the only accessible centres of learning. Today, most families
in Sikkim still have a lama within the extended family, although many complain that
the brightest sons are pushed through modern education and university while the
duller students are sent to the local monastery school from the age of ten, where they
learn scriptures by rote without understanding their meaning and are trained in the
mechanical performance of rituals.
272 chapter eight

generally thought that the ideal age is between fifteen and twenty. Every
year, on the same day, a group of new lamas from the neighbouring
villages are initiated at the Phodong monastery. This initiation takes
place either on the 25th or on the 27th day of the 10th lunar month
during the ten-day ritual held in honour of Mahakala just before Losung,
the Sikkimese farmers’ New Year. Before the initiation, the group of
new lamas will have their heads shaved but for a little patch left at the
top of the skull. Within the monastery assembly hall, where dozens
of lamas are chanting the text of the ritual, at the time offerings are
made to the chökyong Dharma protectors, the future lamas have their
left-over hair cut by the head lama of the monastery. Each new lama’s
hair is mixed with rice by the head lama who throws it as an offering
onto the altar while saying that the lama is now joining the three jewels
of the Buddha, Dharma and Sangha, or the assembly of lamas. No
vows are taken, but the head lama’s assistant then gives the initiate
a piece of paper with his new name written on it, a name which is
never used but remains symbolic of his transition. From now on, the
new lama will be called a drapo ( grwa pa bsgris pa), or a lama who has
accepted the discipline of the Sangha and is now a full member of the
lama-community of his village. Before the initiation, a lama-student
is only referred to by the term chopo (chos pa), or ‘man of Dharma’, a
term which applies to any lama, whether initiated or not. The initiated
lama may now participate in any Buddhist ritual held in the village,
either as a single lama in someone’s household, or as part of a group
of lamas at the village’s prayer hall or at the Phodong monastery. On
the same day, or at any time following the initiation, the parents of
the new lama will sponsor a meal for the whole assembly of Phodong
monks.32 In order to help the family, all the households of the village
will each contribute between Rs 20 and Rs 100 towards the cost, an
amount which will be inscribed in one of the two registers kept by all
households in order to record donations that will have to be recipro-
cated at a later date.

32
In the North Sikkim villages of Lachen and Lachung, young lamas are still initi-
ated individually on separate days. They must first recite the texts they have learnt
by rote in front of the assembly of lamas, after which the parents offer lunch to the
lamas and to the assembly of villagers who would have gathered at the monastery
for the occasion.
 life and ritual cycles of household members 273

3.5. Severe illness and death

We have seen in chapter 4 that when someone falls ill, a series of
diagnoses will be sought from various ritual specialists and medical doc-
tors, and that a number of curing rituals or shapten will be performed
until the patient’s eventual recovery or death. If the illness is serious or
chronic, the medicines and the rituals will become a significant strain
on a family’s financial resources. For this reason, when a major ritual
shapten is being held for the patient, all corporate households will offer
a contribution (ko’u chang) towards the cost of the medicine and the
shapten, a contribution that may be repeated on the occasion of a later
major shapten if the illness drags on over several years. Like the previous
contributions, it is inscribed in the patient’s family register so that it may
be reciprocated if the occasion arises. During the ritual, the household
holding the ritual is not obliged to entertain the contributing villagers
with anything more than tea and snacks.
When someone finally dies, a lama will go to the village’s prayer hall
and announce the death by blowing a conch shell, at which point all
villagers will pray for the soul of the deceased and no one will work
in the fields on that day. Whenever they hear the sound of the conch,
at whatever time of the day or night, it becomes the duty of all the
village lamas to gather immediately in the house of the dead and start
the preparations for the funeral. Tsam Khang Ajo, the most senior
lama of the village, the lama head-teacher or Lopen Dugyal will first
perform the powa (’pho ba—transference of consciousness at death),33
a powerful tantric ritual intended to guide the consciousness out of
the body through an opening at the top of the head and towards its
immediate enlightenment.34 If successful, there will be no need for a
lama to read a particular text (Thos grol—‘liberation by hearing’) that
is meant to help guide the consciousness towards enlightenment or
towards a good reincarnation during the 49 days of the intermedi-
ate state between death and rebirth called the bardo (bar do) of death.

33
“Transferring the consciousness is a special Tantric method to prevent the deceased
from being reborn in sa sāra and specifically to save him from being born in any of
the three lower realms, by very powerfully lifting his consciousness to a pure realm”
(Sangay 1984b: 31 as quoted in Samuel 1993: 210).
34
The powa is started just as the heart stops but when the chest is still hot, when
the external breathing has stopped but some internal breathing continues for half a
minute. These learned lamas are not always present at this exact moment and the powa
itself is rarely successful, but if it is, a small hole will be noticed at the top of the head
from which the consciousness would have left the body.
274 chapter eight

Through a successful powa, the consciousness is considered to have been

liberated from sa sāra and will no longer reincarnate.
The funeral is considered to be a person’s most important ritual. This
is when he or she will either be liberated and reach enlightenment with
the help of the powa or the bardo rituals, or will have to be helped and
properly guided towards a desirable human rebirth. It is thought that
by performing various rituals at the time of death, lamas and relatives
can only do their best to help the person since, ultimately, the next
rebirth depends on the person’s own karma. Once someone has died,
the pawo and the bongthing will not be involved and all death rituals will
remain strictly the domain of the lamas, as only the supra-worldly dei-
ties of Buddhism are now thought to be of help to the deceased, for
the worldly gods of bon are only useful in dealing with this life’s worldly
problems. Only the pawo, the nejum and the bongthing still believe that,
after death, they will find their way to the bon paradises located in the
high mountains, from which they will interact with villagers in the course
of possession rituals. The lamas’ supremacy over death is such that,
despite this belief, the bon specialists will be given complete Buddhist
funerals by their families. The fact that bon specialists will later com-
municate with villagers from their heavenly abode through possession
rituals in order to give advice and predictions to their descendants does
not bring into question the success or failure of the Buddhist rituals or
the fact that they might not have taken rebirth. Such concepts are not
entertained and are not perceived as contradictory. While the ancestors’
presence in the bon paradises is the only surviving aspect of bon related
to death, these ancestors in fact are more concerned with the living
community, or rather the welfare of the dead ancestors’ descendants. In
contrast to this, the majority of the funerary rituals performed by the
lamas are held for the benefit of the deceased. However, during death
obsequies, two additional lamas perform a few rituals in an adjoining
room for the benefit of surviving household members. It is said that in
this adjoining room, the rituals are performed for the living, while in
the house’s main altar room, the rituals are held for the dead. Later,
additional rituals will be held in certain households in order to prevent
more death within the extended family.
Before anyone is allowed to touch the body, the powa is followed
by astrological calculations that will indicate the day of the crema-
tion, the time to take the body out of the house and generally how
to proceed with the funeral. For example, people born under certain
astrological signs may not be allowed to see or touch the body. Through
 life and ritual cycles of household members 275

his calculations, the astrologer will also be able to reveal in which of

the six realms of sa sāra—hell-being, hungry-ghost, animal, human,
semi-god or god—the person is likely to reincarnate, and prescribe
some rituals in order to help achieve or improve upon this outcome.
Whatever may be the cause of death, it is thought that a supernatural
being called shey ( gshed ) would have come to take the person’s life. This
shey could have been a dü, a gyepo, a tsen, a lu or any other being with
potentially malevolent inclinations. One of the most important duties
of the astrologer is to reveal the shey’s identity and the direction in
which it will now proceed. The main problem with shey is that they are
thought to develop an appetite for death; once a shey has killed a first
person, it is now much easier for it to take a second and a third life.
It thus becomes imperative for the astrologer to calculate the direction
and approximate distance, the time and the type of household where
the shey is most likely to strike so that relatives, friends and neighbours
with houses lying in that general direction can perform the necessary
preventive rituals.35 As Waddell had mentioned in the Gazetteer of Sik-
kim (1894), death in Sikkim is considered to be contagious. Once the
astrologer has completed his task, the body is then washed and tied
naked, sitting crossed-legged, with its hands tied with a silk scarf in a
folded position, and placed in a wooden box. Amitabha mantras written
on a strip of paper are placed around the body. The inside bottom of
the box is painted with a lotus seat and the inside top with a wheel of
life (srid pa’i ’khor lo). The box is placed in the family chapel or lhakhang

35
The astrologer initially calculates the time and the direction in which the shey, or
the supernatural being who took the life of the deceased, would go and the type of
household in which it is most likely to look for its next victim. If someone living in that
general direction falls ill, or if the astrologer predicts, for example, that the shey would
move as soon as three days after the initial death, then relatives, friends and villagers
living in that direction would immediately perform a particular ritual ( gshed zlog). But
if the shey was predicted to strike at a much later date, the same people would then
take their time to perform a longer version of the same ritual (za ’dre kha bsgyur). In
both versions, a string palace or dö is prepared by the lama, with an effigy of the shey
in the shape of a dü mounted on a tiger, regardless of the shey’s identity, in order to
invite and lure the shey into it. Four stones taken from each corner of the property are
placed in a plate on which the lama blows mantras in order to empower them; the four
stones are then mixed in a vessel with a number of broken ones. At the end of the
ritual, the dö in which the shey has hopefully taken a seat is taken out and destroyed by
throwing stones at it while speaking threatening words. Lamas then go from room to
room throwing empowered stones into all of them, accompanied by threatening words,
just in case the shey has hidden himself somewhere in a corner of the house.
276 chapter eight

next to the altar, in front of the main officiating lama, where it will be
kept until the day of the cremation.
The lamas, who gather in the house of the dead the moment they
hear the sound of the conch shell, start preparing the altar for the
Amitabha ritual text (bDe chen zhing sgrub), which will be chanted over
and over, four times a day, starting at four thirty in the morning, until
the cremation day. Although the astrologer would have set the date for
the cremation, he would have done so while taking into consideration the
household’s wealth and the number of days they could afford to hold
the rituals. If they are very poor, the cremation could be held as soon
as the next day if that date is astrologically suitable. If the household is
wealthy, the body may be kept in the house for up to seven days while
the lamas perform the Amitabha ritual over and over until the crema-
tion day. During this ritual, the lama in charge faces the dead person
and summons him or her for purification of his/her body, speech and
mind. Whenever food is served to the lamas, a plate, along with chang if
the person used to drink, are served outside to the deceased, along with
four other items that represent the senses the person used to be able to
experience while alive and might still be missing at this point. Besides
food, the other elements are a mirror so that the deceased may experi-
ence his or her body, the sound of a bell for the experience of sound,
a little piece of cloth for the experience of clothes, and the burning of
a mixture of flour and butter for the experience of smell. In another
room, two lamas perform the yangku ritual in order to preserve the ele-
ment of yang, which brings wealth and prosperity to the household and
which could otherwise be lost during this transition phase, especially
if the deceased was the head of the family, or otherwise wealthy and
knowledgeable. They will also perform the Nesol and any other rituals
that may have been recommended by the astrologer in order to protect
household members during this period.
At the exact location where the person passed away, if the family
can afford the expense, a lama will read the bardo text for every night
of the 49 days of the intermediate state between death and rebirth.
The text will give guidance and advice to the consciousness as to
where to go and what it will encounter during this period when it is
free to roam and travel anywhere at the speed of thought. Everyone is
considered to be inhabited by a number of peaceful deities (42 in the
heart) and wrathful deities (58 in the mind), who will gradually leave
the person after death. Different deities will appear at different stages,
the peaceful ones leaving during the first seven days and the wrathful
 life and ritual cycles of household members 277

deities between the eleventh and twenty-first days. The soul or con-
sciousness will be frightened, but if it can be made to recognise the
deities as its own and reminded through the teaching of the bardo that
these are mere illusions of the mind, it may reach enlightenment and
not reincarnate again. On the first day after death, the consciousness
will be facing much confusion, and after the twenty-first day, it will be
looking for a peaceful place to hide and rest. At this point, it must at
least be guided in order to avoid rebirth in the three lower realms of
hell-beings, hungry-ghosts and animals. Three nights after the moment
of death, the soul will regain consciousness and try to communicate
with its relatives, asking for food, but will not receive any response. It
becomes especially important to read the bardo text at that particular
moment. The nyungne am, the village’s group of praying ladies, will also
come to the house at that time and join the lamas in the altar room for
a few hours in order to recite mantras for the benefit of the dead.
On the evening prior to or the morning of the cremation, friends,
neighbours and relatives may address the dead person directly in order
to inform him or her about the program of rituals that will be held
until the 49th day, not only in the house but also in the neighbouring
monasteries. The deceased will be reassured about the welfare of his
or her children, that he or she should not worry, that everyone will
be looked after, and that he or she must now take advantage of the
bardo in order to visit holy places and find the way to the three jewels
of Buddha, Dharma and Sangha. On the morning of the cremation,
the Amitabha ritual is performed one more time. Then, the lama
performing the yangku ritual in the adjoining room circles the body so
that the yang does not leave the house with it. Fifteen minutes before
taking the body out of the house at the time previously prescribed by
the astrologer, a serkyem libation ritual is offered for the lu and other
supernatural beings living along the path leading to the cremation
ground so that they are warned and may not be offended by the smell
of the passing decaying body. The body in its coffin is then taken out
of the house and carried on two poles into the garden, where family
and villagers offer it silk scarves.
Male and female relatives, followed by one male villager per cor-
porate household and the group of praying ladies, start their climb to
the cremation ground, which is located in the forest above the village.
Upon reaching the place, permission to use the area must first be
requested from the supernatural ‘owner’ of the cremation ground by
offering him a torma. The most important relative, using his own axe,
278 chapter eight

cuts a strong fresh tree three times while saying that there should be no
more death from now on. Everyone helps in preparing the pyre, which
is built with nine layers for women and eight for men. An Amitābha
ma ala made of coloured sand is drawn under the pyre and the body
is carried around it three times before the coffin is placed on top. The
lamas start chanting the ritual read during cremations (sByin bsregs), and
the pyre is lit from four directions, usually by lamas but definitely not
by relatives or a student, had the deceased been a teacher. Through
the lamas’ meditation and visualisation, the burning body is presented
as an offering to the tantric deities with the hope that its conscious-
ness may not reincarnate in the three lower realms. Family members
prostrate themselves a last time to the departing relative, after which
people gradually return to the house, leaving the lamas to complete
the ritual alone. Food is served to all while the yangku ritual continues
in the adjoining room, where rites are performed for the living and
will only end one day after the initial uninterrupted obsequies for the
dead have been completed.
Upon returning from the cremation ground, the lamas resume their
place in the altar room and start the post-cremation ritual (Zhi khro)
for as many days of the remaining 49 as the family can afford. A rich
family may continue to perform this ritual for all of the remaining 49
days, while a poor family may end the initial series of rituals after the
cremation. It will cost around Rs 15,000 ($430) a week for a household
to feed and pay the group of lamas, who will eat and sleep in the house
during this period. In the old days, when land was still plentiful, the
head lama was often paid with land if the family was short of money,
but today people prefer to take loans instead. Until the 1960s, a number
of animals were slaughtered in order to feed the assembly and pay the
lamas during funerals,36 but the butchering of animals has since been
reduced considerably for both religious and financial reasons. Because of
the general rising costs of funerals, a new contribution (skyid sdug tshogs
pa—‘association for happy and unhappy circumstances’) was introduced
some ten years ago in Tingchim whereby each corporate household

36
An ox or pig ( gtsang ko’u) was first killed the moment someone died in order to
feed the assembly of lamas and villagers. On cremation day, more animals were killed
to feed the guests and pay those who cut the wood while the head (se mgo) was reserved
for the head lama. Although animals were always butchered on the occasion of major
rituals, the term gtsang ko’u only applies to those killed at funerals.
 life and ritual cycles of household members 279

gives a fixed amount of Rs 100 to the family the moment someone

dies in the village. The night before the cremation, villagers will come
to the house to offer a scarf, chang and the usual contribution of money
offered at funerals called tuso, which is entered in the family register so
as to be reciprocated at a later stage. Some time after the cremation,
a third contribution called semso (sems gso), or ‘sympathy money’, may
again be offered but is not mandatory. If the family is small and poor,
or if the deceased was one of its key supporters, then one person per
household will provide a day of work to the family (lag rogs—‘farmers’
help’), either to help in the fields or in preparing the yearly supply of
wood. No one in the village will work in the fields on a cremation day,
nor will they work three days later when the bones are collected from
the ashes and put in a nearby cave with all the bones of previous vil-
lagers. Alternatively, rich people may have the bones crushed and the
powder mixed with clay and made into little miniature stūpas (tsha tsha).
Children below the age of eight are not cremated, but their body is put
in a box and brought by two or three unrelated old men to the same
cave where the villagers’ bones are kept. The only ritual performed
for children is the throwing of torma or boiled rice with milk in the
Teesta (chu gtor). Babies and small children are thought to be taken by
chung dre (chung ’dre —‘small evils’), hungry-ghosts that roam near water
and must be driven away by the lamas’ ritual so that they do not come
back to take more children.
When the initial series of rituals comes to an end, the lamas complete
the performance with the ne par ( gnas spar). Through visualisation, the
consciousness is called from all directions and invited to take a seat in a
small image of the person printed on a piece of paper with the deceased’s
name written on it called a ten (rten), which is kept where the body
used to be in front of the head lama. At a precise moment, the paper
is burnt in the hope of liberating the consciousness by sending it to
its instant enlightenment. Before the arrival of the 16th Karmapa in
Sikkim, instead of the ten picture, a life-sized effigy of the person called
a chang bu (byang bu) was prepared after the cremation using his or her
old clothes and kept in the altar room where the dead body used to sit.
In a similar way, the consciousness was invited into the effigy and given
the instructions on the bardo before being reminded that it no longer
had a body and then the effigy was burnt at the end of the initial series
of rituals. It is said that in the ‘old days’, the chang bu would sometimes
cry or talk to the assembly. This practice is considered to belong to bon
and was then banned by the Karmapa. It was discredited by stating
280 chapter eight

that the voice of the chang bu was not that of the person but of the shey
or malevolent being that had taken his or her life.
If the initial series of rituals ends soon after or on the day of crema-
tion, they are usually resumed for a day on the 7th, 11th, 14th, 21st
and 49th days. While the 7th and 49th days are observed at home with
additional performances of the post-cremation ritual (Zhi khro), if the
household and the extended family can afford it, the 11th, 14th and 21st
are observed in the neighbouring monasteries, where rituals are held at
Phodong, Phensang and Labrang in no specific order. A richer family
may also have rituals performed at Rumtek and other monasteries in
Sikkim, India or Nepal on the 28th, 35th and 42nd days. Relatives will
organise and sponsor these rituals (zhabs tog) collectively and bring the
necessary tsampa, rice, meat, chang, vegetables and tea for the assembly
of lamas’ lunch at the monastery. However, the main relative of the
deceased must offer Rs 20 to each participating lama. The ne par ritual
and the burning of the ten picture are again performed at the end of
the rituals in each monastery. If possible, one thousand butter lamps
are also offered on these occasions and, if rich, the family may even
offer one thousand offerings of each of the following (stong mchod ): but-
ter lamps, rice torma, incense sticks, dried white flowers (dpag bsam me
tog), water bowls and little piles of uncooked rice. On the 21st and/or
the 49th day, 108 prayer flags (brgya dar) with one million ‘om mani
padme hum’ mantras printed on them may be erected and offered
along with a lama’s purifying prayer in order to help purify the body,
speech and mind of the deceased. While 108 is the ideal number, 5,
7, 14, 21 or 50 may also be offered and erected on a nearby hill. This
ritual may be repeated on a yearly basis in different places for many
years. On the 49th day, lamas will again perform the post-cremation
ritual (Zhi khro) in the house’s altar room, where relatives and the head
of each household in the village will again gather for lunch. On this
occasion, people will try to offer money to the family, which will usually
be refused. All rituals in the household are concluded with an address
of thanks and the praising of the lamas and the guests by the sponsor
of the rituals.
This funeral procedure was adopted by Tingchim villagers relatively
recently. Before the 1930s, funerals were a small affair in the village.
The body was placed in a coffin and a short ritual text ( gNam chos) was
read by two or three lamas before taking the body to the cremation
ground. When the Sakya Lama stopped in Tingchim in the late 1920s
and instructed villagers to perform Buddhist annual rituals, death ritu-
 life and ritual cycles of household members 281

als gradually gained in importance. When Tibetan high lamas and

Rinpoches arrived in Sikkim in the 1960s and Tingchim villagers’
income through cardamom increased, like the wealthy Sikkimese of
Gangtok, they too started sponsoring longer rituals at home and in the
various monasteries of the state for the benefit of the deceased.

The household rituals held as rites of passage are far more numerous
and today better attended than the few annual rituals held at the village’s
prayer hall or the Phodong monastery, which are mostly attended by
lamas (see chapter 11 for a list of these rituals). During household ritu-
als, villagers are obliged to participate and make contributions in kind
to help the householder holding the event, as well as contributions in
cash that are entered in a register so that they may be reciprocated at a
later date. Attendance at and contribution to these domestic rituals are
mandatory for each corporate household. Participation and contribu-
tion define village membership and non-participation or non-invitation
suggests exclusion from the village’s community. It is these household
rituals and not those orthodox Buddhist rituals held at the monastery
or the village’s prayer hall that are the main avenue for social interac-
tion and that in turn maintain and define the community.
Along with the household rituals held for the rites of passage, we
have seen in the three previous chapters that the household is also the
location for the performance of all rituals related to illness and the
Lhopos’ relation with the land. Whether performed by the pawo,
the bongthing or the village lamas, the household remains the location
where bon and Buddhist ritual specialists amiably endeavour to relieve
the living from the sufferings of life in this world; and where the intimate
link between the land, the individual, the social group, the ancestors and
the supernatural find its best expressions. The system of mutual help
and mandatory attendance, which in turn defines village membership,
is one of the prime factors for the survival of these rituals and their
underlying shamanic worldview in Tingchim. Before looking into the
village’s changing relations with conventional Buddhism and the state
in chapter 10 and 11, the following chapter will present an exceptional
expression of such household ritual where the pawo, the bongthing and
the village lamas combined their ritual efforts with the hope of curing
a chronically ill patient.
 CHAPTER NINE

CURING AND PROTECTIVE RITUALS OF

THE HOUSEHOLD

The most common sources of tension or quarrels among relatives or

among Tingchim Lhopo villagers in general are either disputes over
land boundaries or problems related to the marriage of women.1 I was
told that before the 1960s, when land was still abundant and expan-
sion of fields had not yet been forbidden, the marriage of women, or
rather the ‘snatching’ of other men’s wives, was the primary source of
quarrels. But since the expansion of cardamom cultivation into the for-
est and the import of Nepalese labour, land disputes have become the
greatest source of problems and have plagued villagers and the courts,
not only in Tingchim, but all over Sikkim. The land surveys carried out
in Tingchim in 1977–78 and 1979–80 and the subsequent issuance of
personal maps clearly delineating everyone’s fields has greatly helped to
contain the problem, albeit without eradicating it completely. Despite
the land survey, old cases persist, new claims continue to be made, and
problems arise between brothers when the father fails to establish clearly
the border of each son’s inherited parcel before his death.
When problems and tensions arise among close or distant relatives,
the pho lha mo lha are the supernatural beings who are ritually invoked
in order to help resolve differences. As we have seen in chapter 3, the
pho lha mo lha are the main providers and protectors of the household
and the patrilineage. It is the responsibility of the head of each house-
hold, with the help of the bon ritual specialists, to maintain good rela-
tions with them by performing the biannual harvest offerings at biatsi
and natsi. When doing so, the pho lha mo lha can then be relied upon
and invoked, not only when dealing with cases of illness, but also for
the peaceful resolution of quarrels and for protection in case of feud.
Cultivating good relations with them will be more important for some

1
There are, of course, other types of disputes between Tingchim villagers and
between members of different villages or ethnic communities, but among the group
of closely and distantly related Lhopos of the same village, land and women remain
the main sources of problems.
 curing and protective rituals of the household 283

than for others, who may, for example, perform simple daily offerings
by sprinkling a few drops of chang in the air in their honour before
drinking. Another way of keeping good relations is by avoiding places,
situations and actions that are thought of as polluting or sources of drib.
A person will also remain on good terms with his pho lha mo lha if he
follows lugsö, the ‘traditional’ way to live and behave as established by
his forefathers, refrains from wrongdoings, and doesn’t break the vows
that he may have taken in front of his ancestral gods.
Another problematic issue among relatives concerns the lingering
consciousness of dead kin members. The last section of this chapter
follows the case of a woman who suffered a prolonged illness until
the cause was correctly identified and a ritual invoking the ancestral
gods was held, with the collaboration of all bon and Buddhist ritual
specialists of the village, in order to liberate the consciousness of her
husband’s uncle, who had died some ten years earlier and become the
prisoner of a dü. The unfolding of this ritual offers a rare example of
the way in which the bon and Buddhist ritual specialists may join forces
for the welfare of a patient and collaborate on a very equal footing in
the performance of a single curing ritual. It also illustrates how both
traditions may interact by creating a new, essentially bon ritual that is
not offensive to Buddhist lamas simply by replacing animal sacrifice
with a substitute dö (thread-cross) and a lü effigy. In this way, the use
of bon is not discarded but is allowed to adapt itself to the changing
views and needs of villagers. The unfolding of events illustrates how
these changes can be made very diplomatically, without offending any
ritual specialists, so that all involved may still resort to any form of
ritual in time of need.

1. Ritual solutions to land disputes among relatives

The peaceful resolution of land disputes between brothers or other

villagers is usually achieved with the help of the Panchayat. In order
to avoid problems, ideally, a lama, a paternal and a maternal uncle
and a member of the Panchayat should be present as witnesses when
a father divides his land among his sons. But as this often takes place
at the last minute on his deathbed, the Panchayat or other witnesses
may not always be present. If quarrels develop, a solution is negotiated
with the help of the Panchayat, after which the quarrelling relatives
must hold an apologetic offering ritual together for their pho lha mo lha.
284 chapter nine

The disputing relatives are made to take a vow in front of the pawo,
the bongthing or a lama and their ancestral gods that from that time on
they will refrain from certain actions so as to prevent a recurrence of
the quarrels. Such a ritual should be held not only after a dispute over
land but after any type of quarrel among relatives. In the very rare case
that the dispute resumes after the ritual, the matter is again debated
with the help of the Panchayat, and the concerned relatives must then
ask a lama to hold an apologetic ritual ( gnas bshags) followed by Nesol,
as quarrelling and so breaking a vow taken before the ancestral gods
as witnesses is considered a source of pollution and potentially very
dangerous to all.
It is said that, in the past, if disputes could not be resolved despite
the Panchayat’s or the ma al’s intervention, both parties partook of a
ritual (dam tshig brdar shed—‘to renew a vow’) instead of taking the mat-
ter to court, which is now the usual way of solving land quarrels. If no
agreement could be reached after discussions, they ritually invoked some
common pho lha, such as Dzönga or Ajo Dongbong, to sit as supernatural
judge. Together, they solemnly vowed that whoever was wrong should
be punished by these divine agencies. It is said that Tsam Khang Ajo
had survived two such disputes where both his opponents eventually
died as a consequence of the ritual. And if the dispute was such that
both parties were no longer on speaking terms, they usually resorted
to sending each other cherkha curses instead of holding this ritual. A
similar way of making a decision has been observed by Ramble in the
village of Kag in Nepal’s Mustang District, where recourse is made
to the Triple Gem (Buddha, Dharma, Shangha) in order to resolve
disputes—which is done by throwing dice. In this case, however, as
the author points out, no particular god is responsible for making the
decision (Ramble 1996: 141).
The disputes that one still hears about are those where the sending
of curses is said to have been resorted to, and where resulting illnesses
still manifest themselves today among the descendants of the original
feuding parties. Although some disputes between brothers are alleged
to have been taken this far, claims about the occurrence of curses seem
to have been more frequent where quarrelling parties were not closely
related. Some of these disputes, if the parties were from different vil-
lages, even escalated into feuds involving whole lineage segments that
were carried over to the next generation. But if both parties were from
Tingchim, whether kin or non-kin, feuds never took on such propor-
tions. They were usually contained for the sake of preserving family
 curing and protective rituals of the household 285

harmony, or they were simply forgotten by their descendants, who were

no longer in dispute. Generally, villagers are encouraged by elders and
the Panchayat to make peace, since village unity and harmony is highly
valued and is in the interest of all. Although known and talked about,
cases of cursing are not frequent and only a handful of households
still have to deal, in one way or another, with the consequences of
these old disputes.
Among these is the case of Nima, an older member of the Gyamtso
Chumo lineage who is chronically ill with tuberculosis and gout. The
bongthing, and everyone else, attributes the cause of his illness to a curse
which had been sent against Nima’s father and his family when his
father was still a young man. When he was involved in a land dispute
over a paddy field with an older man of the Dojö Takichumo lineage,
Nima’s father had momentarily grasped the older man by the throat.
The latter then summoned their common pho lha mo lha to take note
of the offence and take revenge accordingly. It was diagnosed that the
ancestral god Bolha Gomchen’s consort, Nadag Amo Chalam, till this
day, is taking revenge against the Gyamtso Chumo and creating prob-
lems for Nima. This dispute was not carried over to the next genera-
tion, but it is interesting to note that descendants of both families are
still required to participate in the curing rituals for Nima. Apologies
to their common pho lha mo lha must be offered jointly in the hope that
they will understand that the dispute is now over, and that the curse
must be undone. As part of the ritual, an ox leg is offered by Nima to
Nadak Amo Chalam.
With the exception of the Sesung Gomchen, lamas tend to keep away
from the ritual handling of disputes. The only time the village lama will
get involved is in the performance of the apologetic ritual, followed by
a Nesol, when disputing relatives are prepared to mend their differences.
The pho lha mo lha being the prerogative of the bon specialists, the pawo
and the bongthing will deal with all other rituals aimed at ending or
escalating the conflict. It is said that when people quarrel, this attracts
the nöpa and awakens their malevolent tendencies. They rush to the
scene, take sides, add fuel to the dispute and create illnesses among the
opposition. It is believed that, once these malevolent tendencies have
been provoked, the nöpa will no longer accept the ritual of a lama and
will only negotiate with the bon specialists, who may calm them down
with blood or meat offerings.
The Sesung Gomchen, who has integrated both bon and Buddhist
traditions into his ritual practice, is considered the specialist of choice
286 chapter nine

to deal with conflicts that have been allowed to escalate beyond the
realm of the pho lha mo lha. When the disputing parties are from dif-
ferent villages or different ethnic communities, quarrels over land,
debts, and ritual or political power can go unchecked for generations,
in which case the ritual ‘weapons’ used are considered far more lethal
than the simple invocation of the help of the ancestral gods. For the
Sesung Gomchen, his practice of tsam (mtshams—retreat) is aimed in
part at cultivating powers that will help defend villagers against curses
sent from other villages, and send them back through the use of the
torgyap in case of feuds. The Sesung Gomchen is the only lama who still
engages in this kind of ritual activity, usually by countering, on behalf
of a few households, old curses that still require to be neutralised on
an annual basis.

2. Old household feuds

There are three households in Tingchim that, every three years, hold a
major ritual in their altar room in order to counter a curse sent against
their ancestors some decades if not centuries ago. The ancestors of
this particular lineage are said to have come from a village in Tibet,
from which they were chased for having stolen the golden treasure kept
inside the village’s stūpa. Angry villagers in Tibet are said to have sent
Korda Gyepo (dKor ’dre rgyal po), a spirit-king commonly appointed
as protector of monastery possessions and treasures, to take revenge
upon them. Ever since they arrived in Sikkim and settled in Tingchim,
members of this lineage have held rituals regularly in order to coun-
ter the consequences of this old curse. Every three years, they hold a
torgyap (seng gdong ma’i gtor rgyab), an expensive full-day ritual attended
by a large number of lamas. It is difficult to say when this curse was
sent against them, as it would have been improper to question them
about their migration history. But among Tingchim villagers they are
not considered outsiders like the lineages who migrated to Tingchim
some three generations ago, so we can assume that they would have
migrated to Sikkim one or two centuries ago. The need to hold the
ritual has been keep alive all these years, despite its shameful origin,
by the fact that the old curse is still diagnosed regularly by the pawo
or the bongthing as the cause of a lineage member’s current illness—as
if descendants were not permitted to forget their forefathers’ wrong-
doing. These old curses are considered lethal, and the fear of losing
 curing and protective rituals of the household 287

a sick family member always remains present. This was the case one
night when a little girl from the same lineage had her first epileptic
crisis, and the nejum followed by the pawo were immediately called
over and both diagnosed, among other things, that Chong Gyepo, the
Northern King, had been deputed by Korda Gyepo to cause trouble.
As is usually the case in such serious illnesses, many ritual specialists
pooled their resources so as to save the little girl. The pawo performed
some rituals on the spot, the Bāhun jhā̃kri stayed up all night to recite
mantras, and a lama performed the Buddhist rituals (Nesol, gye dö and
Kongso) prescribed by the nejum and the pawo. The next morning, the
girl was taken to Lachung Rinpoche in Gangtok, who performed some
purification and other rituals.
The two other lineages that hold the same torgyap rituals once every
three years in order to counter an old curse are the Kalong and the
Angon. The Kalong’s ancestors were engaged in a feud with a Lhopo
family in Namok, and although I did not get to know the subject of
the dispute, it is said that the Kalong’s torgyap exterminated the entire
lineage in Namok, who were too poor to retaliate. The Angon’s case
concerns a dispute between their ancestor and Phodong’s Kunga
Mukter, the administrator of the Phodong Estate from 1922 until
1934. In 1929, the three ma al of Tingchim, Namok and Seyam
revolted against Phodong’s Kunga Mukter, who had abused his rights
to forced labour, by denouncing his house tax embezzlement activities
in a petition submitted to the Palace.2 When Kunga Mukter lost the
court case, the estate was subsequently divided and administered by
two mukter. One of Kunga Mukter’s sons became the mukter for the vil-
lages of Phodong, Ronggong and possibly Ramthang, the southern half
of the Phodong Estate, and Kungy Chödar, a lama from the Angon
lineage in Tingchim, became mukter for Tingchim, Namok and Seyam.
Shortly after his appointment, Kungy Chödar allegedly died from a
curse sent in revenge by Kunga Mukter’s family, and in 1937–38, the
administration of the entire estate and its six villages was taken over
by Agya Sherap, a monk of the Phodong monastery and a friend of
the Chogyal, as ‘Agent to His Highness the Maharaja of Sikkim In
Charge of Phodong Monastery Affairs’. To this day, Kungy Chödar’s
descendants in Tingchim perform a torgyap every three years in order

2
Petition dated 25th July 1929. Sikkim State Archives, General, file 546, Number
of Houses of Phodong Monastery, 38/3/1929.
288 chapter nine

to prevent a second death in the family, and if family members are ill,
they might even perform this expensive ritual on a yearly basis.

3. Ritual and other solutions to problems

related to women and marriage

It is said that in the old days when girls got married, they were very
young and ignorant of the responsibilities and consequences of married
life. Whether their future husband was young, old, rich or poor had
very little meaning to them. When they finally matured and realised
their predicament, they usually took lovers if they were unhappy at
home. If a girl ran away with a lover, the latter had to pay a fine to
the first husband3 and marry the girl the ‘short-cut way’—simply by
offering a party to the village. Older men in Tingchim often smiled as
they recounted how things used to be in the past. Raiding the village
for girls and creeping in and out of windows at night without getting
caught seemed to be a common sport, and consecutive marriages,
whether arranged or not, were not uncommon. For example, the
present bongthing had three consecutive arranged marriages and one
mistress, partly because his own wives were taken by other men. The
first gave him two children, after which she ran away with another
man, and the second only stayed two years, had no children, but had
an affair with a local merchant, got sick and went home to die. The
third was a mistress, who gave him a son who didn’t survive and then
returned to her own husband, and the last and present wife—previously
a widow—gave him two sons after the age of 45 and stayed. When
asked why consecutive marriages were no longer common today, I was
told that these days, girls get married at a much later age, often out of
love, or at least knowing the difference between a good husband and a
bad one. Also, a certain Hindu influence on gender relations has crept
into the way of thinking and behaving, mainly through Hindi movies
and the example of the successful high caste Nepalese population in
Sikkim. It is also thought that today relationships have to be tightly
controlled, starting with control of parents over their children, because

3
The fine was a compensation for the first husband’s wedding expenses and the
two to three years of work he did for his father-in-law as part of the traditional wed-
ding procedure.
 curing and protective rituals of the household 289

of the severe risk of a Lhopo eloping with a Nepalese Hindu. And,

most importantly, adultery became a crime under the new administra-
tion after Sikkim joined the Indian Union, so a husband can now go
to the police if another man elopes with his wife, and a wife can and
does call the police if her husband goes with another woman. With
this change of attitude towards adultery came a new way of getting
divorced. Previously, disputes between husband and wife were resolved
between families and with the help of elders or the ma al, and if a
woman wasn’t happy, she could get out of the marriage by returning
home or by eloping with another man, who would pay the fine and
marry her, although she had to leave her children behind; and if a
man was discreet and could get away with it, he could have a mistress
without fear of being arrested and going to jail if his wife complained.
Now that adultery has become a crime, disputes are no longer resolved
locally between families, and in order to leave each other, couples have
to get the police involved, go to court, get an official divorce and fight
for child support. Since this change took place, there have been three
cases of divorce in Tingchim, all three instigated by women who were
unhappy because of their husband’s misbehaviour. The following two
cases are examples illustrating how severely disputes over questions of
women were, and are still being, dealt with despite their diminishing
occurrence.
In the latest divorce case, involving a woman from Tingchim who
had married outside the village, the husband—a police officer—was
found to have had an affair with a Lepcha woman when his wife
was temporarily away on job training. When the wife was informed,
the matter was already known in the husband’s village, where they
normally lived. Consequently, she immediately sent a message to her
father in Tingchim, who, along with a group of male relatives, drove
without delay to the husband’s house in order to sort matters out, as
it is considered imperative for a father to defend the honour of his
daughter and try to contain the situation in such circumstances. The
husband proved to be unco-operative and ran away after a fight, but
was eventually arrested by the police and put in jail, while the Lepcha
girl was returned to her father. In this instance, a court case was to
follow wherein the wife was going to ask for a divorce, custody of their
two daughters, and half of her husband’s salary for child support. And
there was no question of attempting to negotiate or repair the marriage.
Other examples suggest that, as much now as in the past, as long as an
affair remains more or less unnoticed, it may continue for some time
290 chapter nine

while family members attempt to resolve the matter among themselves.

But the moment it becomes public knowledge or a confrontation takes
place, questions of family honour come into play and any possibility
of negotiations between spouses is over. In many cases, husband and
wife will never talk to each other again, and negotiations, if any are
attempted, will be done through relatives. Nowadays, the police and
the courts get involved at this point, but a few decades ago, the sending
of curses would sometimes have taken over.
The second example, which happened in the 1920s, is not of a
divorce but of a marriage which was called off some time after the
initial proposal, and the serious feud that developed from it between
two Tingchim lineages, which is still not entirely resolved. A marriage
had been arranged by the fathers of the bride and the groom. After
the proposal ceremony, the groom, who was a successful trader and
rich by village standards, made many gifts to the bride and her family.
Then, for some reason, the father of the bride changed his mind and
decided to call off the marriage. In anger, the groom demanded that all
gifts be returned, something the family could not comply with, giving
him, instead, all the valuables they still had in the house. As this was
considered insufficient by the groom, the father of the bride became
angry and is said to have summoned a Lepcha bongthing to send a deadly
curse against the groom. Knowing that he was now going to die, the
groom, out of revenge, sent a deadly curse back to exterminate the
whole family. Eventually, everyone died except a little boy, who ran
away and was adopted by a third lineage. Although these curses have
now been neutralised, the descendants of the surviving boy and those
of the bride’s lineage, till this day, forbid all marriages between any
of their members.
The other main concerns related to women are the dangers of
pre-marital relations, of Lhopos eloping with members of a Nepalese
community, of daughters failing to find a husband and of daughters
who are not treated properly by their in-laws after marriage. We have
seen in the previous chapter that pre-marital relations among Lhopos
are tolerated as long as the couple remains very discreet and are only
dealt with severely in the case of pregnancy, in which event the couple
is made to marry before the birth of the child so that they may be
introduced on time to their respective ancestral gods and local nöpa by
the chanting of the khelen. If marriage does not follow, this wrongdo-
ing could bring pollution (drib) to the village, disturb local nöpa and
result in illness, hail, landslides and other natural calamities. To help
 curing and protective rituals of the household 291

prevent such outcomes, the Panchayat issues a fine of Rs 150 when-

ever a Tingchim girl is found pregnant before her proposal. Only one
case of birth out of wedlock among Lhopos occurred during my stay
in Tingchim. Although the marriage did eventually take place, it was
delayed and held months after the birth of the child. The father of the
boy developed a stomach-ache on the day of the wedding and died a
few months later of stomach cancer, which the villagers attributed to
the nöpa’s displeasure.
The Lhopos’ fear that birth out of wedlock may cause natural
calamities to the village applies equally to the daughters of the Limbu
tenant farmers, since their pregnancies would also create pollution
(drib), which may cause offence to the nöpa residing in the vicinity of the
fields they work for their Lhopo landowners. During the monsoon of
1995, it was noticed that seven unmarried girls were pregnant within
Tingchim’s Limbu families of tenant farmers. Lhopo landowners were
nervous about these developments, as they feared supernatural reper-
cussions in the form of landslides that would wash away their fields.
As a remedy, the Panchayat summoned all seven Limbu girls, along
with their Limbu lovers, fined them Rs 150 each and made them
promise that they all intended to marry. The fact that all seven men
were Limbus and unmarried made the matter easy to handle. Once
all had promised to marry, the Sesung Gomchen, in order to provide
an immediate remedy, performed a collective improvised wedding on
the spot by reciting a khelen, whereby the new couples were introduced,
not to anyone’s ancestral gods, but to the local nöpa in order to prevent
any occurrence of landslides. The Sesung Gomchen then performed
a Nesol ritual so as to purify the pollution generated by these events.
Although the Limbus were to perform their own weddings later on that
year, this instant collective wedding served the purpose of putting the
Lhopo landowners’ minds at peace.
We have seen in the previous chapter, when discussing instances of
inter-ethnic marriages, that a Lhopo mother’s greatest fear is that her
daughter might elope with a member of a non-Buddhist Nepalese
community. Brides of Nepalese origin will be tolerated as long as they
become Buddhist and are eventually integrated into village life, and
in many cases, their Lhopo husbands will not be blamed, as villagers
will have compassion and understand that no Lhopo girls would have
wanted to marry into their poor or already ethnically mixed households.
However, a Lhopo girl marrying a Hindu or Christian Nepalese will be
expected to convert to her husband’s religion, and since ethnic affiliation
292 chapter nine

is passed through the males, her children will be considered Nepalese

and she will soon become a stranger within her own community. There
are no ritual remedies for such situations, only preventive rules and
sayings. Children are told that if they marry someone from another
community, as a result of their ancestral god’s unhappiness, they run
the risk of giving birth to children with infirmities. And once married,
the only way for the couple to live a normal life is to exile themselves
in town, where there are many other cases like theirs.
Returning to the question of ritual solutions to problems related to
women, the next point concerns the protection of daughters after mar-
riage. Among the Lhopos, daughters-in-law are usually treated well, but
nevertheless do find themselves in a subordinate and vulnerable posi-
tion after marriage, especially if they move to another village. In this
context, the daughter-in-law’s main supportive relative is her ashang or
maternal uncle. From the moment she is born, and for the rest of her
life, a girl’s ashang will be considered a kind of ‘god-father’, sometimes
even more important than her own father, who will took after her if her
parents die, perhaps teach her discipline, give her advice and generally
look after her well-being. The ashang’s responsibilities will extend to all
of his sister’s children, including sons, but will be more significant in
the case of daughters, as he may act as intermediary for the parents
with potential in-laws before marriage and after she leaves her parental
home. In this context, the deity in charge of protecting the interests of
a daughter-in-law is called shang lha, or the pho lha deity of her ashang,
who follows her from her maternal uncle’s house into her new home.
Once a bride has moved into her husband’s house, it is common for
her shang lha to introduce and manifest himself by causing a member
of her new husband’s household to fall ill, as was the case with the
shang lha of Lopen Dugyal’s wife Karma shortly after she moved in to
live with him. Soon after their wedding, Lopen Dugyal’s niece fell ill
and was taken to hospital with a severe case of flu. A relative went
to the hospital and dipped the girl’s hand in rice, which was brought
back to the pawo, who then used it to establish the cause of the ill-
ness. He divined that Karma’s shang lha, named Malling Taktsen, who
had followed her to Tingchim from her natal village of Malling, was
responsible. The Taktsen asked for a Buddhist ritual, a tsen dö, which
was performed the same day by a lama, as well as the offering of an
ox leg, which was done by the bongthing, after which the girl recovered
immediately. Thus, by divining the cause of the illness, the pawo or the
bongthing learn about the new shang lha’s identity and ritual requirements,
and from then on, include him among the pho lha mo lha, or pseudo-pho
 curing and protective rituals of the household 293

lha mo lha depending on his identity, of the particular household’s altar

and rituals. Once introduced, it is said that if the daughter-in-law is
not treated well by her new family or if she is beaten by her husband,
her shang lha will be the first to come to her defence and protect her in
lieu of her maternal uncle or ashang. It will also generally protect her
and her possessions wherever she travels, either against theft, poisoning
or other attacks.
The last problem for daughters is if they fail to get married altogether.
There are only three cases in Tingchim of girls over twenty-one who
are no longer studying, who do not suffer any physical infirmity, and
who are not yet married. Of these, one had a relationship with her
elder sister’s husband, had a baby who did not survive, and eventually
left the village when she found work in the Lepcha reserve of Dzongu.
She did not marry after this but has, apparently, become the mistress
of a Lepcha politician. The two other girls suffer from some kind of
mental imbalance, and it is not clear if these problems effectively started
before or after failing to secure a husband. The first is 26 years old,
left school after failing class eight as well as a course of professional
training outside Sikkim, and returned home to help her family while
waiting for a marriage proposal that never came. I was told that symp-
toms appeared one year after her return, as she started feeling fearful
of others, not wanting to go out or have to interact with anyone. She
became unable to help in the house, unwilling to eat, sleep or wash,
and would run away to the jungle, where she wanted only to sing.
Her condition was not completely resolved when I left the village, but
had improved considerably after the family had engaged in a series of
consultations and rituals performed by a number of religious specialists
from all over Sikkim. The pawo, the bongthing, the village lama and the
local jhā̃kri all performed curing rituals, after which she was taken to
Rinpoches and Tibetan doctors in Gangtok, who all prescribed elabo-
rate rituals and herbal medicines. At the recommendation of a learned
lama, she was taken to a famous Chetri woman shaman in Gangtok
who diagnosed, through rice divination, that a Bihari shoemaker had
cast a love spell on her. It is said that these love spells are cast by boys
so that a certain girl may be attracted to them, but if the girl resists
the attraction, can provoke madness in her. Repeated curing rituals
were performed by the shaman over a period of time, after which the
girl started to improve.
The third unmarried girl also suffered from mental disturbances, but
eventually was in the process of becoming the new Tingchim nejum,
four years after the initial crisis, which started when she was twenty-one.
294 chapter nine

During these crises, which happened two or three times a month and
used to last from one to three days, she would sing, dance, run, scream,
quarrel and behave in an uncontrollable way. The gift of medium-
ship, for nejum, is often inherited through the matriline, and since the
Tingchim nejum was this girl’s maternal aunt, it was thought that she
might have been selected by her pho lha mo lha in order to replace the
present nejum, as the latter was getting old and could not perform any-
more. This state of being a potential nejum was considered undesirable,
as much by the girl as by her parents, who ignored it for as long as
possible and, instead, instigated a number of rituals, by a variety of
ritual specialists, in the hope of resolving her condition. The pawo and
bongthing were first consulted but, after failing to obtain stable results,
the help of a neighbouring Limbu bongthing was sought. According to
his diagnosis, she had also come under the influence of a love spell
cast by an admirer through the use of mantras. Over the summer of
1994, the Limbu bongthing held a series of rituals in order to neutralise
the spell, but after an initial improvement, this cure again failed, at
which time her parents turned to a village lama, who made her swallow
healing mantras. After another failure, her parents consulted a reputed
bongthing from Gangtok, who performed a series of rituals over a period
of months. By February 1995, she was declared cured and was again
leading a normal life. She later had relapses and more curing rituals
followed, but she was eventually recognised as and declared to be the
future nejum of Tingchim by the pawo of Lachung, who attempted to
perform her initiation ritual (see chapter 5).

4. Ritual solutions to the lingering consciousness of

dead kin members

Funeral rituals are preventive in nature as they ensure, among other

things, that the consciousness of the deceased does not linger around
the village creating problems for the living. When funerals are not
performed correctly or simply not performed at all, or when there is
excessive attachment, either on the part of the deceased or on the part
of a living kin member, the consciousness of the dead relative may be
prevented from continuing on its normal path towards its next incar-
nation. It may try to remain in its former house, near its children, or
in the general surroundings of its past existence. When this happens,
curing rituals are held so as to free the lost consciousness, in this case
 curing and protective rituals of the household 295

called shindre, and simultaneously help the affected living relatives to let
go of the painful loss of a dead one. Until a shindre can be freed, it is
offered a plate of rice with curry and chang in order to persuade it not
to trouble living relatives and other villagers.
When a lost consciousness or shindre roams around the village, it will
first manifest itself by causing illness to the living. When the affected
person consults the pawo for diagnosis, the shindre will speak through
the medium of the pawo and express his problem. Various rituals,
depending on the situation, may then be performed in order to resolve
this condition and send the shindre on to his proper path, and if they
are successful, they will simultaneously cure the sick relative. First, the
pawo will invoke the pho lha mo lha and ask them to take care of the
shindre, and if this fails, a high lama will perform a ritual so as to help
it on towards a good rebirth. Such a case took place some years ago,
when a young mother of four passed away in her thirties and then,
it is said, refused to leave the house. She stayed there for three years,
inflicting illnesses on anyone who entered the house except members
of her immediate family. She would regularly speak to them and to
other villagers through the medium of her sister, the nejum, during the
biatsi and natsi harvest rituals or whenever someone was ill. After many
failed ritual attempts asking the pho lha mo lha to help her, her husband
eventually consulted the 16th Karmapa, who is said to have liberated
her with a single ritual. From that day on, anyone could again enter
the house without fear, and she never manifested herself through the
nejum again.
During fieldwork, a new case of shindre presented itself, which opened
the door to an original ritual co-operation between, on the one hand,
the pawo and bongthing, and, on the other, the Sesung Gomchen and
Lopen Dugyal as a village lama. In fact, this ritual was a rare example
where specialists from both the bon and the Buddhist traditions officiated
together for a common purpose. There are cases, for example during
the harvest rituals of biatsi and natsi, where bon and Buddhist special-
ists hold their respective rituals, one after the other, addressing and
invoking different categories of supernatural beings as part of a single
larger ritual event. By contrast, in this ritual, both bon and Buddhist
specialists performed together, simultaneously combining their skills and
efforts to free the shindre of someone who had passed away some ten
years earlier. Although performing together, as we will see below, the
two groups were still taking care of two separate aspects of the same
ritual and addressing different supernatural beings. I have only come
296 chapter nine

across one ritual where the bon and Buddhist specialists momentarily
invoked the same deities. This was during the annual chirim, where the
bongthing and the lamas, although holding distinct rituals inside and
in front of the village’s prayer hall, momentarily performed together
within the precinct of the prayer hall.
Returning to this case of ritual co-operation, the shindre first manifested
itself by causing stomach pain and general weakness in his nephew’s
wife, a mother of five whom I shall call Lhamo. Many diagnoses and
rituals were performed before the shindre finally revealed its identity and
stated its predicament with the help of the pawo. In the initial stage of
the illness, the pawo, who is a regular social visitor in Lhamo’s house,
was the first to be consulted and prescribed a labyong ritual (offering
displayed on a banana leaf ) for a particular nöpa. After this simple ritual,
Lhamo was taken to the hospitals of Mangan and Gangtok, where she
was given medicine.4 When the medicine failed to cure her, a case of
malicious poisoning was then suspected and Lhamo was given a herbal
antidote by a villager who had been trained in this art by his Lepcha
father-in-law.5 When this also failed to produce results, Lhamo’s father,
the village’s lama head-teacher, performed a divination6 for his daughter
in order to prescribe some Buddhist rituals. Accordingly, a torgyap ritual
( gu ru drag dmar gtor rgyab) was performed, followed by a prayer by four
monks in honour of Tārā two days later and a dö ritual (thread-cross)
for Korda Gyepo several days after that, all of which failed to improve
her condition.
Under normal circumstances, at this stage the bongthing or the pawo
would have been consulted again in order to make a fresh attempt,
probably through trance, at divining the cause of Lhamo’s ailment.
But fearing that this would lead to an offering of an animal life,
her father—the lama head-teacher—opted for a consultation with a

4
I do not know what the doctors diagnosed since doctors rarely explain the nature
of the ailment to their patients from rural areas. Questions are only asked by the doc-
tor, and the consultation is concluded with the issuing of a prescription.
5
Lepchas are considered far more knowledgeable in herbal medicine than the
Lhopos.
6
Divination or mo by a lama is not done in the same way as by the pawo or the
bongthing, who divine by casting dice or rice, or, in the case of the pawo, through pos-
session. Village lamas use a Buddhist manual, from which the divination’s answer and
recommended ritual can be read. On the other hand, like the bon ritual specialists,
Rinpoches do not require the use of a manual and will interpret the result of the dice,
or the answer obtained by counting the beads of a rosary, through their own clairvoy-
ance or by invoking the powers of a particular deity.
 curing and protective rituals of the household 297

Rinpoche in Gangtok. In the early 1960s, when the 16th Karmapa

had designed a ritual for Tingchim villagers to be performed in lieu
of blood offerings, the lama head-teacher had been the person initiated
into its performance, and he had taken a vow never to perform animal
sacrifices again. Thus, under these circumstances, instead of consulting a
bon ritual specialist, he took his daughter to Gangtok, where Dodrupchen
Rinpoche recommended the recitation of 50,000 Vajrapā i mantras
and taking Lhamo to the doctor. Her condition finally improved after
Rinpoche’s recommendations were followed.
Soon after this incident, the pawo’s annual retreat or tsamche began
(see chapter 11). This four-day event also corresponds with the annual
ritual of the Gyamtso Chumo lineage to which the pawo, the head
lama-teacher and Lhamo belong. The successive possessions of the
pawo allow members of the lineage to converse with their ancestors
and receive advice from their pho lha mo lha, especially about illness,
upcoming obstacles and right behaviour. Accordingly, as soon as Lhamo
joined the ritual the following morning, the pawo, possessed by the spirit
of Ajo Bongthing—the present bongthing’s father—addressed Lhamo
and volunteered a new explanation for her illness. Her problems were
caused by the shindre of ‘Tashi’, her husband’s paternal uncle, a village
lama who had died some ten years ago at the age of thirty-two. Noth-
ing more was said or done about this, as Lhamo was feeling better at
the time. But a few days later, when Lhamo was suffering a relapse, the
biatsi ritual that was being held in her father’s house by the pawo offered
a new opportunity for the diagnosis to be elaborated upon.
This time, the shindre of ‘Tashi’ himself took possession of the pawo
and addressed the audience for the first time since he had passed
away in 1985. He mentioned that Lhamo’s excessive attachment to his
memory was contributing to his difficulty in pursuing his normal path.
Although he was returning his affection to Lhamo, as is always the case
with a shindre, his affection was involuntarily turned into poison and
was the cause of her illness. And in addition to this, he had become
the prisoner and the slave of the same shey who had taken his life, a
malevolent dü who kept him working endlessly without ever giving him
any food. The shindre of ‘Tashi’ begged his family to help him escape
from the clutches of this tyrannical dü by asking the pho lha mo lha to
liberate him and take him into their midst.
Lhamo’s case illustrates how the on-going relation between bon and
Buddhism unfolds in Tingchim, or how villagers find ways to skirt
the conflicts and contradictions of both traditions while still making
298 chapter nine

full use of them. For example, the head lama-teacher had initially
refrained from consulting the pawo or the bongthing directly for fear of
being pressured to perform a blood sacrifice, since he had taken the
vow not to resort to such practices again. Thus, instead of seeking their
help directly, a diagnosis was pronounced by the pawo, en passant, dur-
ing the annual retreat and then again during the head lama-teacher’s
regular biatsi harvest offering. And once the diagnosis was made, it
then became difficult or improper for him to ignore it and not perform
the recommended rituals. On the other hand, the pawo was perfectly
aware of the situation and the lama-teacher’s vulnerability, since the
latter’s need for bon in this particular situation was heightened by the
fact that his own daughter may have been suffering from a life-threat-
ening disease and that he had already performed a large number of
Buddhist rituals that had not been entirely successful. It is interesting
to note that according to the pawo’s diagnosis, which was pronounced
when he was temporarily in a position of power, the particular shindre
responsible for Lhamo’s illness happened to be a deceased lama. If
the latter had become the prisoner of a dü, it is a clear message from
the pawo to the lama-teacher and other villagers that even lamas may
still be dependent on bon when it comes to taking control of troubling
supernatural beings of the land.
Once a shindre has become the prisoner of such a supernatural
being, it becomes the domain and responsibility of the bon specialists to
liberate him. A ritual is performed by the pawo and the bongthing, who
together attempt to separate or liberate the shindre from his captor by
distracting the latter through the offering of an animal life. The bong-
thing performs the sacrifice outside in the hope that once the dü sees the
blood, he will be distracted enough to relax his grip on his prisoner,
who will then be able to escape and be directed towards the pho lha mo
lha by the pawo, who officiates in the altar room of the house. Since it
was impossible for the lama-teacher’s family to hold such a ritual, the
Sesung Gomchen performed a substitute ritual that would not involve
any sacrificial killing. This was designed by the Sesung Gomchen at
the time when animal sacrifice was banned in Tingchim.
A few days later, when the biatsi harvest ritual was being held in the
house of Lhamo’s father-in-law—‘Tashi’’s elder brother—and while
the altar of ‘Tashi’’s pho lha mo lha was being erected for the occasion,
the Sesung Gomchen was asked to perform his new ritual. While the
pawo and the bongthing were holding the harvest offering in the altar room
of the house, the Sesung Gomchen, with the help of my teacher Lopen
 curing and protective rituals of the household 299

Dugyal, built a dö of black thread in the courtyard of the house, and

under that they placed a lü or effigy of the dü. By performing the dü
dö ritual, they invited the dü to take a seat at the centre of this palatial
string structure in order to cut the link between him and ‘Tashi’. The
dö was to replace the sacrifice of an animal, and, as planned, once the
dü took his seat in the effigy, the shindre of ‘Tashi’, who was continuously
being called by the bongthing and the pawo in the altar room, managed
to take advantage of the dü’s distraction, escape and take possession of
the pawo. At this point, the freed shindre was instructed by the bongth-
ing to take a seat on a little torma placed on the altar next to Masang
Khyungdü, who would protect him, and where he would, from then
on, be safe from the dü’s sight and tyrannies. The dü, who soon realised
what had happened, took possession of the pawo and complained bit-
terly that they had taken his man away. From that time on, ‘Tashi’’s
new torma became a permanent torma on the altar of this particular
household and was included whenever an offering to the household’s
ancestral gods was performed in subsequent rituals.
Bon ritual specialists never officiate at a funeral, which is the exclusive
prerogative of the lamas and a person’s most important rite of passage.
The lamas will generally argue that the deceased, if not sent directly
to heaven through the powa ritual, will at least find his way to his next
incarnation if he receives a proper funeral. But in reality, dead people
who receive adequate funerals sometimes do end up not only as shindre,
but in the bon paradises of Rigdzin Ne and Metok Padma Ling, located
in the high mountains, from which they manifest themselves to their
descendants through the medium of the pawo during possession rituals.
In this sense, they may even stay around the village for generations
instead of moving on to their next incarnation as the lamas would
advocate. Such contradictions are not entertained, nor are they the
object of discussions. It seems that these apparent contradictions are
tolerated so as to offer a certain freedom of choice, interpretation and
adaptation to everyone.
As we have seen, even the Buddhist teacher of the village is free
to sanction the performance of a bon ritual aimed at liberating the
consciousness of a lama. In the end, he is engaging in a bon ritual,
something he will accept mainly because the ritual was changed and
adapted to Buddhist principles. But despite this adaptation, the bot-
tom line remains that during the ritual, the lamas were performing
in the courtyard outside the house, while the bon specialists had the
place of honour as they performed within the altar room. The shindre
300 chapter nine

of ‘Tashi’, the former lama, was not entrusted to a Buddhist deity but
to Masang, a mountain deity and pho lha of the lineage; and bon ritual
specialists were invited to resolve a situation where lamas had initially
failed. This tolerance and general attitude of ‘give and take’ between
bon and Buddhism at the village level has contributed to the creation
of many rituals in Sikkim, but in most cases it would now be impos-
sible to trace the way in which the exchange actually took place. It is
in this sense that the unfolding of this ritual was particularly revealing.
Unable to resist continuing the debate after the ritual, Lopen Dugyal
added that although the shindre of ‘Tashi’ the lama was now free of
the dü and in a much better position under the protection of a pho lha,
a Rinpoche such as the 16th Karmapa would have liberated ‘Tashi’’s
shindre by sending him directly to heaven.
In an attempt to cover all possible causes of Lhamo’s illness, or
perhaps in order to avoid a situation where Lhamo’s recovery would
have to be attributed exclusively to the success of a bon ritual, elaborate
Buddhist rituals called lalu (bla bslu ’gug) and gyaji (brgya bzhi ) were held
soon after the dü dö rite. A lama had divined that Lhamo was suffering
from ‘soul loss’ (bla gtor), meaning that her consciousness had been taken
by a degye, and that the lalu ritual7 now had to be performed in order
to recover it. These Buddhist shapten are only held when someone is
considered seriously ill, as the symptoms of ‘soul loss’ are characterised
by a severe loss of energy or even coma with a diminishing resistance
to other nöpa attacks. The gyaji ritual, which followed the lalu, consists
of four dö and four hundred offerings made to four general categories
of degye, who are all invoked and invited into the palm of the Buddha’s
hand, printed on a large piece of paper. In villagers’ eyes, this was the
Buddhist way of covering any possible causes without having to specify
the identity of the degye responsible for her illness. It was also performed
because, when someone has been ill for a long time and a number of
rituals have already been held, more degye may have been made jealous,
which in its own way, was now contributing to the patient’s condition.
In true Tingchim style, after all this, a Chetri jhā̃kri was consulted. He
recommended a ritual for the anyo protector of Lhamo’s elder brother’s
house. Two days later, as she could feel a lump moving in her stom-
ach, it was feared that she might have an ulcer, so she was taken to

7
For a description of the bla bslu ritual see Mumford (1989: 168–79) and Lessing
(1951: 263–75).
 curing and protective rituals of the household 301

a private doctor in Gangtok. This doctor dismissed the possibility of

an ulcer and prescribed some medicine, after which Lhamo gradually
recovered, to everyone’s relief.
When the family of ‘Tashi’ performed their natsi harvest ritual in the
spring of the following year, ‘Tashi’ was still there under the protection
of Masang and, manifesting himself through the medium of the pawo,
confirmed that he was still free and well taken care of. Although the
shindre of ‘Tashi’ was now free and Lhamo was cured, I never heard it
said that her illness had finally been resolved thanks exclusively to the
pawo, the bongthing, the lamas, the Rinpoche, the doctor or any par-
ticular ritual. Her recovery had been gradual and thus had not been
attributed to a single cause and ritual shapten. Although it was discussed
and acknowledged that the shindre of ‘Tashi’ had been central and the
main cause of her problem, all of the rituals were considered to have
contributed, each in its own way, to her recovery and well-being. It is
this acceptance or general recognition—this diplomatic lack of dis-
crimination in favour of one ritual specialist over the other—which in
the end allows everyone to continue to have recourse to any of them
without creating tensions and jealousies, and which gives license to
the ritual specialists to continue working together and even create new
rituals that integrate new ideas and tendencies. Such indiscriminate co-
operation usually develops over long, drawn-out cases of illness where
the survival of the patient becomes the only concern of everyone
involved. The question of making the right diagnosis and prescribing
the correct ritual cure is more likely to become a subject of pride and
discussion when the illness is not drawn out or chronic but a sudden
case that soon resolves itself dramatically. In the end, Tingchim villag-
ers prefer not to antagonise anyone but to keep all options open, and
so be able to consult whomever they wish when it eventually comes to
be their turn to face chronic illness and death.

Despite the important changes the village has been through this cen-
tury—from a subsistence to a market economy, from slash and burn
to irrigated cultivation and the use of tenant farmers, from Buddhist
monarchy to secular democracy, and from farming to education and the
possibility of government employment—household rituals have main-
tained their importance in Tingchim. These rituals have even gained
a new dimension, as they are the principal avenue left to villagers to
define themselves as a community in the face of an ever growing and
more powerful population of outsiders. While these rituals strengthen
302 chapter nine

the ties of the village’s community, they also reaffirm their long-stand-
ing relation with the sacred land, its supernatural population and the
ancestral gods who reside in the high mountains. In turn, the sacred
land, along with its supernatural population, offers a platform on which
growing tensions with threatening outsiders may find expression in the
form of illness and misfortune. The bon and Buddhist ritual specialists
of the village co-operate in maintaining this shamanic view of their
universe, where the ancestral gods and the country’s deities remain the
most important supernatural beings, and where the khelen has emerged as
the most significant ritual performance shared by all the ritual specialists
of the land. But the maintenance and even strengthening of household
rituals would not have been possible without important changes that
took place in the village’s relation with conventional Buddhism, the
state and the outside world, changes which will be addressed in the
following two chapters.
This chapter concludes our survey of the domestic rituals performed
within the household by the Tingchim pawo, the bongthing and the village
lamas. All are concerned with the villagers’ relation with the land, its
owners, its workers and its produce, or with the health and prosperity
of the household and its members. The performance of these domes-
tic rituals has shown how the village’s ritual specialists, whether bon or
Buddhist, will each be consulted for their own particular ritual expertise
without any explicit rivalries between them. The harvest rituals perhaps
best illustrate their complementarity, with each specialist addressing his
own set of supernatural entities, which are responsible, each in their own
way, for the prosperity of the fields. Similarly, when asked to divine or
cure the cause of illness, each specialist will use his own methods, which
may be pooled together if the patient’s situation is serious. In chapter
11, we will see how this accepted division of ritual expertise based on
a common understanding of the supernatural is being challenged by
a revival of conventional Buddhist thought in the village. The views
of conventional Buddhist-minded lamas in the face of village religion
will further highlight, by contrast, the way in which Tingchim’s village
lamas seem not to feel the need to eradicate the practices, or at least
take control of their village shamans.
PART IV: THE VILLAGE AND THE STATE
 CHAPTER TEN

RITUAL, THE VILLAGE AND THE STATE

The political, economic and administrative changes that have swept

through Sikkim in recent decades have not been without consequences
in its ritual field. The first section of this chapter addresses the changes
that have taken place within the village’s local administration and its
relation with Gangtok. Despite a complete upheaval of the political and
administrative system following Sikkim’s integration in democratic India,
I argue that household ritual obligations and the traditional way of local
administration are still fundamental factors involved in the management
of Tingchim’s Lhopo community. The following sections illustrate how
Buddhism was the dominant way in which the village related to the
outside world in pre-1975 Sikkim, and how it has partly regained this
role in the 1990s after temporarily losing its importance following the
end of the Buddhist monarchy. We will see that household and other
distinctively Sikkimese rituals, which have been so important in helping
to define the Lhopo community throughout recent decades, are likely
to continue to do so for a number of reasons despite the decline of bon
and the renewed influence of conventional Buddhism in the 1990s.

1. Local administration and the village’s unity

We have seen in chapter 2 that until the 1930s, Tingchim village’s

head was called pipon and was nominated by the elders. The headship
of the village eventually passed into the hands of Tsing Tsing1 who
had been appointed ma al by the Chogyal. Following the abolition of
landlordism in 1951, Tsing Tsing started handing over the taxes directly
to the Palace instead of to the Phodong monastery. With the help of

1
Tsing Tsing’s father, Pipon Chongtong Lepgay, had been village head before him.
They were of the Kalong lineage.
306 chapter ten

Ingchung Tsomi2—until 1960—and Dugda3 as tax collector, Tsing

Tsing remained at the head of the village as ma al until 1975. When
India’s Panchayat Raj system of local administration was introduced,4
Tsing Tsing was elected and remained Panchayat President until his
death in 1977.
From 1975 until 1985, various senior villagers were elected as
Panchayat President, Secretary and Member but from 1985, people
were no longer interested in these positions to the point that no one
submitted their candidature to the Panchayat elections of 1985 and a
young villager had to be nominated by the elders. Villagers say that
until the 1980s, being ma al or Panchayat President was an honour-
able and enviable position which commanded respect and obedience
from the community. After 1975, development and welfare programs or
what villagers call ‘facilities’—for example, the expansion of the local
school, the installation of metal water pipes, the construction of water
fountains and the village road, the renovation of the village’s prayer
hall, plantation programs—were gradually introduced as part of the
Sikkim development plan. In these early days after 1975, under the
Chief Ministership of L.D. Kazi, these ‘facilities’ were on a modest
scale and for the benefit of the community as a whole. Later, under
the Chief Ministership of N.B. Bhandari during the 1980s and early
90s, funds significantly increased and the distribution of benefits for
Scheduled Tribes such as free corrugated iron roof sheets, improved
seeds and fertilisers, books and uniforms for students, etc. were made
available on an individual or family basis, at which point villagers started

2
Ingchung, who passed away in 1986, was Lopen Dugyal’s father. Damto Tsomi,
Ingchung’s own father had also been tsomi (’t’sho mi—a person who resolves quarrels)
before him. They were of the Dojöpo lineage.
3
Dugda, who passed away in 1983, was my second assistant Rabden’s paternal
grandfather. Although he was the deputy ma al and tax collector, he unofficially
took over from Tsing Tsing as ma al later in his life. Dugda was himself the son of
Kungy Chödar, the temporary Tingchim mukter in the 1930s. Dugda’s son, Kiaktsing
(Rabden’s father), helped Dugda in his duties from the mid-1960s and eventually as
elected Panchayat Secretary and Member from 1978 until 1985. They are all from
the Angon lineage.
These three examples of ma al, tsomi and letsen suggest that these offices were
hereditary, which was often the case. But in reality, a pipon was nominated by the elders
and a ma al by the landlord or the Chogyal but a son was obviously in a privileged
position to be nominated since he learnt the duties by helping his father, something
he would feel encouraged to do considering the respect and tax exception that came
with these offices.
4
Panchayat Raj Institutions were introduced as early as 1965 in other regions of
Sikkim but were not implemented in Tingchim until 1975.
 ritual, the village and the state 307

either to compete for these or obtain more than their fair share. In this
context, the Panchayat President found himself as the intermediary
between villagers and Bhandari’s government, and eventually became
either the means to people’s ambitions or the target of people’s disap-
pointments. In addition to this, the Panchayats of Tingchim and the
neighbouring Limbu village of Mangshila were merged and from 1985,
since it was a larger settlement, the Panchayat Presidency was elected
from Mangshila with Tingchim providing the Vice-President, the Sec-
retary and a Member to the six-member committee. Eventually, senior
Tingchim villagers no longer aspired to these positions, and in 1985
nominated a young literate villager whom I shall call Tseten as Pan-
chayat Vice-President. This individual better understood the workings
of the new administration and its politics, and could better negotiate
in the Nepalese language5 with the Mangshila Limbus and the State
Government. They needed someone who would be capable of liaising
with their elected MLA (Member of the Legislative Assembly) and other
government officials in order to better secure Tingchim’s share of the
yearly development fund allocated to the North District, and obtain all
the new welfare ‘facilities’ which were introduced every year through
the various government departments. Although seeking these facilities
is today an important occupation of the Panchayat Vice-President, the
latter is also there to give written recommendations to villagers when
they make applications to the Government, usually for employment,
contract work, loans or education, and in order to resolve quarrels.
Tingchim’s village assembly, called dzomkha (’dzoms kha), is headed
by the Panchayat Vice-President and is attended by the head of each
landowning household. Although Panchayats in Sikkim, including
Tingchim’s, are elected by all adult citizens of India since the introduc-
tion of the Panchayat Act of 1982 (Dhamala 1994: 62), Tingchim’s
village meeting still corresponds to the head of the village’s landowning
households and does not include the tenant farmers of Nepalese origin
with a right to vote. Today, this meeting is basically a forum where
access to, and distribution of, ‘facilities’ for landowners are discussed,
and cases of disputes over these are resolved. It is held whenever nec-
essary, sometimes once a month but usually once every two or three
months. Other issues discussed are the organisation of community

5
Most senior villagers can only speak Lhoke and a few words of broken Nepali
since there were no Nepalese tenants in Tingchim when they were growing up.
308 chapter ten

rituals, Tingchim’s annual football tournament or any problems the

village may be facing at that time. Although every village in Sikkim
conducts similar village meetings under the leadership of its Panchayat,
the dzomkha has been in existence in the North District long before
the introduction of the Panchayat system of local government in the
region or the arrival of the Nepalese tenant farmers. The dzomkha is a
traditional political institution of the Lhopos of Sikkim’s North District,
especially Lachen and Lachung,6 which used to be attended by the
head of each landowning household and headed by the pipon who, in
Tingchim, was nominated by the elders.
It is not generally known that Lachen and Lachung were not the only
villages in the North District to have had a pipon as village head and
to have held regular dzomkha meetings prior to the introduction of the
Panchayat system. One of the reasons for this is that the system had
already started to change from the 1930s when Tingchim’s pipon was
replaced by a ma al appointed by the Chogyal. But it would appear
that only the name of the village head and the way to appoint him
changed from pipon to ma al and eventually to elected Panchayat.
Who these village heads were to report to also changed from the
Phodong Mukter in the case of the pipon, to the Palace in the case of
the ma al and eventually to the Sikkim Government in the case of the
Panchayat President. In Tingchim, the dzomkha or village meeting itself,
or at least aspects of it as we will see in the examples below, did not
radically change after the introduction of the appointed ma al or of

6
About the dzomkha of the agro-pastoral people living in the high valleys of Lachen
and Lachung—pronounced dzomsa in these valleys—who were permitted to retain their
traditional form of political organisation when the Panchayat system was introduced,
J.S. Lall mentions the following (1981: 227–28): “[i]t is in the organization of their
community life that the people of northern Sikkim are especially distinctive. Each
community has an assembly called Dzumkha, composed of the heads of separate
households. This assembly meets in a public hall known as mong-khyim. Once a year,
the Dzumkha elects two pipons or headmen, and two gyapons, who act as constables,
messengers and odd-job men. It is the function of the pipons to call the assembly to
conduct public business. Most important decisions are taken in the village assembly,
such as on grazing and cultivation programmes, seasonal movements of the community
and disbursal of government assistance. The Dzumkha is perhaps the most perfect form
of democratic government anywhere in the country. They elect the gen-me, a body of
respected elders who assist the pipons, or executive heads, in settling disputes. Assisted
by the gyapons, the pipons also collect government levies such as land revenue and forest
tax, and generally represent the community in dealing with the government.”
For a recent study of the political systems of Lachen, see Sophie Sabatier-Bourdet
(2004).
 ritual, the village and the state 309

the elected Panchayat, and is today of great help in the maintenance

of village unity.
Communalism has dominated the political scene ever since the
birth of political parties in Sikkim in the 1940s and people’s interest in
state politics is now largely based on securing better access to various
hand-outs, development funds, ‘facilities’, government employment,
education and business opportunities, either for one’s family, village or
local political grouping based along ethnic lines. No political party has
ever managed to overcome these communal tensions, which find their
roots in the Nepalese migration and divide-and-rule policies adopted
by Britain towards Sikkim at the end of the nineteenth century. It
is commonly thought that these tensions were intensified during the
Chief Ministership of N.B. Bhandari in the 1980s. The situation was
exacerbated by the vast quantities of development funds that poured
into Sikkim from New Delhi after the merger, and corruption became
rampant (Sengupta 1985: 98). Embezzlement of public funds was
practised from the highest level of the government down to the village
Panchayats and a widespread culture of corruption took root within
the state. A class of poorly educated urban nouveau-riche emerged,
the gap between rich and poor widened and the population became
increasingly divided along class and ethnic lines. This contributed to
creating a political atmosphere where money and the purchasing power
of political parties became the deciding factor in elections rather than
issues or political ideology.
Because of its strategic location and the need to maintain peace in
this sensitive border area, coupled with the level of ‘underdevelopment’
of its large tribal population, Sikkim has been a pampered state ever
since it joined the Indian Union. Many Sikkimese believe that large
amounts of development funds are purposely sent to Gangtok to keep
the Sikkimese leadership contented and the others busy scrambling for
their share to distract them from ideas of insurgency. At the village level,
this is reflected not only in the reduction of the Panchayat’s role to a
liaison officer for securing ‘facilities’, but also in the general political
apathy of the people. The last time Tingchim villagers were politically
involved in a bold and active way was in the late 1940s, when Tsing
Tsing Ma al, Inchung Tsomi and a few others joined the Sikkim State
Congress in its campaign against forced labour and landlordism, and
its demand for Sikkim’s accession to India; the remaining Tingchim vil-
lagers sided with the Chogyal’s Sikkim National Party, which advocated
the maintenance of Sikkim’s independence and a slower approach to
310 chapter ten

reforms. Ever since Sikkim’s accession to India, Tingchim villagers have

simply voted for the politicians who were most likely to help them take
advantage of the development schemes offered by the Government.
This competition for access to development and welfare funds eventu-
ally created a new village division in Tingchim following the 1992 Pan-
chayat elections. On this occasion, 18 Lhopo houses voted for Tseten,
who supported N.B. Bhandari’s SSP (Sikkim Sangram Parishad) political
party and the remaining 31 houses voted for an independent Lhopo
candidate who later joined P.K. Chamling’s SDF (Sikkim Democratic
Front), the party that won the 1994 State elections. It is said that Tseten
won the Panchayat elections thanks to the votes of some naturalised
Nepalese Bāhun tenant farmers, and that he later distributed some
plantation development funds intended for the whole village among
the 18 Lhopo houses that had supported him. When the group of 31
Lhopo houses eventually discovered the matter and complained, a few
dzomkha meetings were called. After much discussion, it was decided
that the next allocation to be given to the village would be distributed
among the 31 houses and in addition to this, the 18 houses had to pay
them a fine. Surprisingly, the village division was eventually resolved
by the end of 1995 when all realised that they had little to gain from
political candidates and everything to lose by destroying village unity,
even though the 18 houses supporting SSP did not change their political
allegiance from SSP to SDF until a few years later. The whole village
was particularly disappointed by their newly elected SDF constituency
MLA who didn’t fulfil any of his promises. Tingchim villagers were
particularly shocked to hear that in their MLA’s village of Lachung,
even the lamas had been divided along party lines with some refusing
to perform death rituals in the houses of the opposition and vice versa.
Realising that things had gone too far and that they would forever be
used by politicians, Tingchim’s householders participating in the dzomkha
suddenly decided to make peace among themselves and patch up all
quarrels and village divisions that had come about because of political
manipulations. When I left, villagers were establishing a community
cardamom field in order to replace people’s dependency on political
money. The revenue from this would go to the village’s interest-free
emergency fund which had been set-up by some village elders in 1992
in order to reduce villagers’ dependency on the high-interest loans given
out by the Marwari money-lenders.
This example of a village recovering its unity despite an existing
division along party lines is a very rare example for Sikkim. In this
 ritual, the village and the state 311

case, the householders participating in the dzomkha were able to bridge

their political differences for the sake of local justice and village unity.
Membership in the dzomkha and village unity is highly praised by all for
reasons long predating the introduction of the Panchayat system or the
political parties. Villagers have always known that in times of distress,
it is not the Panchayat, their local MLA or the Government who are
likely to come to their rescue but the members of the dzomkha. We have
seen that, following the settlement of Nepalese tenant farmers, villagers
ceased to be entirely dependent on the ngala system of agricultural
labour exchange. However, they are still to some extent dependent on
it, and thus on their community membership and participation in the
dzomkha, for the cultivation of the fields they have retained. All villagers
know that it would become difficult for them to survive, if for whatever
reason, they were expelled from the dzomkha, or more precisely, if they
were prevented from participating in the domestic rituals of mutual
help and obligation, performed by both lamas and shamans, that create
and bind the community together (see chapter 8). This is where the
main difference lies between the dzomkha and the new form of Pan-
chayat village meetings. In those villages where non-Buddhist people
of Nepalese origin are landowners and participate in the Panchayat’s
village meetings, the assembly no longer corresponds to the group of
landowning Lhopos who are bound through ritual obligation. In such
a new form of village meeting, householders can’t be expelled in the
way it is still possible in Tingchim where the dzomkha still represents
the members of the ritual community. As we have seen in chapter 8,
even quarrelling households are obliged to attend and make prescribed
contributions to each others’ rites of passage. Otherwise, they would
be severing themselves from the village’s community as well as from
the dzomkha. And I believe that it is this already existing capacity for
bridging their differences by placing ritual obligation and membership
in the village’s community above on-going quarrels that enabled the
village to regain its unity. It is surely this same capacity that enabled
the elders in 1992 to bypass the Panchayat and create an emergency
fund for all the member households to borrow from in case of sudden
need. The fund was created in order to reduce villagers’ dependency
on high-interest loans, which are at the root of many households’
economic problems.
A significant example illustrating the unusual functioning of the
dzomkha as opposed to a normal Panchayat village meeting was the
Tingchim dzomkha’s recent decision to expel two Tingchim Lhopo
312 chapter ten

households from the village’s community because they had converted to

Christianity. These households lost their place in the community since
they would no longer be able to participate in the rituals of mutual
help where lamas and bon ritual specialists officiate. Further, in order
to preserve the community and prevent any more conversions, a rule
was passed during the dzomkha whereby any Buddhist villager caught
visiting any of the two Christian households would be fined Rs 500.
Likewise, if any member of the new Christian households visited a
Buddhist house, they would be fined Rs 500. This kind of rule-making
by the dzomkha would be unthinkable in a Lhopo village where people
of Nepalese origin participate in the village’s Panchayat meeting, as the
latter would not be bound to the Lhopo Buddhist households through
mutual ritual obligation.
The unity of the village has been challenged on many fronts in recent
decades. We have seen in chapter 6 that villagers’ ties of economic inter-
dependence were displaced by Nepalese tenant farmers and Marwari
money-lenders when cardamom plantations were gradually expanded
from the 1960s, and the ngala work exchange system between households
was to some extent replaced by the labour of tenant farmers. Following
the expansion of cardamom fields, land became scarce, resulting in
endless land disputes between Lhopo landowners. Then, their politi-
cal ties with the Palace and the Phodong monastery were lost when
Sikkim was integrated into the Indian Union. Villagers subsequently
became increasingly divided either along party lines or over access to
‘facilities’ following the introduction of the Panchayat system and rural
development programs. Despite these economic and political forces,
which tend to divide villagers by putting them in competition with one
another rather than binding them into an economically inter-dependent
community, the village has always valued and maintained, or eventually
regained its unity. Although this tendency appears to be more prevalent
in the North District where no outsiders settled until the late 1930s,
the importance of household rituals in helping to maintain the social
ties of the community during the economic and political upheavals
of recent decades does not seem to have been limited to villages like
Tingchim. Indeed, household rituals may have helped to maintain the
ties of the general Lhopo population all over Sikkim.
The creation of an identity where household ritual played a central
role went through different phases as Tingchim villagers’ and other
Lhopos’ relations with the outside world changed and redefined them-
selves over the years. In the rest of this chapter, we will look at some of
 ritual, the village and the state 313

the forces with which Tingchim villagers and other Lhopos have been
confronted in their relations with the monastery, the state and central
administrations and other ethnic communities before and after Sikkim’s
integration within the Indian Union. We will see how these have gradu-
ally contributed to redefining an identity which was to help the Lhopos
all over Sikkim to defend their economic, religious and political rights
in an increasingly threatening social environment.

2. Buddhism and the village’s relations with the outside

world in pre-1975 sikkim

We saw in chapter 2 that, at the beginning of the twentieth century, the

bon ritual specialists were numerous in Tingchim where they officiated
at all rituals performed for the benefit of the individual, the house-
hold, the lineage and the community. We then noted that Buddhism
gradually asserted itself in several phases, so that, by the early 1960s,
it had effectively taken over from bon as the community’s official ritual
practice.
Until the end of the monarchy in 1975, Buddhism was moreover,
the state religion and the body of monks had a voice and a role to play
in the administration of the country. Tingchim was part of a monastic
estate under direct Palace administration and much of the village’s
relations with the outside world beyond the local markets of Mangan
and Dikchu were based on Buddhism. Villagers very rarely travelled
beyond their valley to other regions of Sikkim, Nepal, India, Bhutan
or Tibet for any other reason than pilgrimage to sacred locations and
curative hot springs, religious festivals or for seeking the blessings or
instructions of revered Buddhist teachers. For example, Tashi Lhamo,
the mother of the house where I lived during fieldwork, made her first
journey to Gangtok at the age of seventeen in order to see the Dalai
Lama in 1956. Even today, the great majority of Tingchim villagers
have never seen the plains of India, only a few hours away by bus, and
the few who have made the journey did so in order to go on pilgrimage
to Bodhgaya or to the Buddhist sites of Kathmandu.
An important venue for the development of Tingchim villagers’
relations with people beyond the village during the time of the king-
dom were the annual religious masked dances held once a year at the
Phodong and Labrang monasteries. In addition to the religious nature of
these events, which people attended dressed in their fine brocades, cham
314 chapter ten

also served as occasions for people to meet, for marriages to be planned

and for news to be exchanged among friends from different villages who
rarely had any other opportunities to meet. These religious events have
a festive atmosphere where canteens, bars, shops and gambling parlours
are set up under tents a few yards away from the monastery. Today,
the end of year ritual, the loshi gurim (lo gcig sku rim—‘ninth ritual of the
end of the year’) is still held at the Phodong monastery during the last
ten days of the year but the event has lost some of its importance. The
lamas read the ritual text Offering to Mahākāla (mGon po’i bskang gso) ten
times over the ten-day period within the assembly hall of the monastery
and perform its cham on the last two days in the courtyard. The event
involves up to forty-eight lama dancers. The second day of cham is the
only ritual which Tingchim villagers regularly attend at the Phodong
monastery. On this occasion, each household within what used to be
the Phodong Estate, sends in advance a handful of mixed grain ( phye
phud ) from its fields to the monastery which is placed on the plateau
supporting the main Mahākāla torgyap to which coins and silk scarves
are offered on the main day of the ritual when villagers seek Mahākāla’s
blessing. The casting of the torgyap, which is here meant as an exorcistic
weapon, is the culmination of all the rituals. It is physically thrown by
the lamas with encouraging shouts along with all the collected grain
in order to send, according to the villagers’ understanding, Mahākāla
to ‘war’ against the enemies of the Dharma, the monastery and its
farming population.
When the Phodong Estate was still administered by the Palace, the
cham was well attended with the whole village leaving Tingchim at two
o’clock in the morning so as to arrive on time for the beginning of
the rituals. Today, attendance has been considerably reduced but rich
villagers are still sponsoring meals for the assembly of praying lamas
with the idea of ‘buying’ the merit which has been generated by their
prayers.7 Sponsors are given seats of honour, which inevitably raises
their status in the community. In the old days, the Chogyal was the first
sponsor and today the main seats of honour set out under a canopy
are reserved for the local MLA8 and officials from the Ecclesiastical
Department. During the time of the kingdom, the important Kagyed
cham (bKa’ brgyad ’cham) used to be held at the Palace chapel during the

7
Once a year, Tingchim villagers will sponsor a meal for the Phodong lamas as a group.
8
It is not uncommon for local politicians to take advantage of such rituals in order
to make important donations to the monastery, occupy a seat of honour during the
 ritual, the village and the state 315

last days of the year by the lamas of Pemayangtse monastery. Although

Tingchim villagers did not attend the cham in Gangtok, they would
send an offering of newly harvested grain to the Palace which helped
to feed the participating lamas.
Pang Lhabsol was the most important ritual of Sikkim held at the
Palace chapel in Gangtok, better known as the Tsuglakhang (gTsug lag
khang), and simultaneously in every monastery and village prayer hall
throughout the kingdom. This national ritual of the land was essentially

Plate 33: Phodong monastery’s annual ritual cham dances. The deer prepares
to cut the rudra that embodies all forces opposing Buddhism

rituals, make a political speech and in this way increase their popularity among the
Lhopos and the Lepchas of their constituency.
316 chapter ten

a celebration of Sikkim’s guardian deities. Pang Lhabsol was held at

the end of the monsoon in September, the main day falling on the 15th
of the 7th month of the lunar calendar. This was the occasion when
the royal family and the lhade mide (lha sde mi sde), the traditional state
council which consisted of the abbots of the monasteries, the kajis, the
ministers, the main appointment holders and the representatives of the
people, would renew their vows to serve the country. On the first floor
of the Palace chapel, on the morning of the 15th, a senior monk of
Pemayangtse monastery would first invoke Kangchendzönga and all
the deities of the land to stand as witnesses. During this khelen, which
also invoked the previous Chogyals and named the ne or sacred sites
of Sikkim, an apology was issued for misdeeds committed against the
plants, the streams, the rivers and the rocks, and a request made for
freedom from obstacles, diseases, famine and war, for the protection
of the royal family, and for the people and the land to be graced with
wealth, good harvests and timely rainfall. The assembly then took the
vow, in the presence of the protective deities of Sikkim, to carry out
the intentions of the four lamas who founded the kingdom at Yuksum
and not to do anything against the interest of the country or its right-
eous administration. Pang Lhabsol was also a celebration of the blood
brotherhood which was sworn between Gye Bumsa, the ancestor of
the Chogyals and the Lepcha chief Thekongtek at Khabi Longtsok in
the thirteenth century, where Dzönga was for the first time invoked to
witness their alliance. A finely dressed woman then held the chang of
which a few drops were sprinkled on the altar, the members of the royal
family and the pangtö (dpang bstod—‘praise to the witness god’) dancers
after which the royal family offered silk scarves to the life-size effigies
of Dzönga and Yabdü, the guardian of Sikkim’s southern gate. The
pangtö dancers then sprinkled some rice in the air and left followed by
the assembly. This ceremony was followed by the Pangtö cham and other
dances which have been described by Nebesky-Wojkowitz (1976: 19–24,
1993: 402–405). The Pangtö cham is essentially a victory dance, where
laymen carrying swords and shields, and wearing helmets decorated with
banners of victory, praise the witness god and invoke Kangchendzönga
as their dablha (warrior god) in celebration of the subjugation of enemies.
It was followed by a series of cham danced by the Pemayangtse lamas
wearing elaborate brocade dresses and masks with Dzönga and Yabdü
as the central deities to make appearances. A red and a black horse
dedicated respectively to Dzönga and Yabdü participated in the cham;
never ridden by anyone throughout the year, these horses were said
to suddenly grow restless at a precise moment during the rituals as if
 ritual, the village and the state 317

mounted by the deities. While the rituals were being held at the Palace
chapel, some Pemayangtse lamas were dispatched to perform rituals in
the four sacred caves located in the cardinal directions of Tashiding as
well as in Dzongri, a mountain top facing Kangchendzönga two days
trek above Yuksum in West Sikkim. A Lepcha bongthing would perform
a ritual for Yabdü at his abode above the Teesta, south of present-day
Sikkim. Waddell mentions that previously, a black ox used to be sacri-
ficed for Yabdü on this occasion (Gazetteer of Sikkim 1894: 355). Another
bongthing used to perform a ritual for Kongchen Chyu, the Lepcha
name for Dzönga in the Lepcha reserve of Dzongu, where a yak was
sacrificed on the occasion. These earlier sacrifices of livestock, includ-
ing yaks, sheep and pigs, were eventually replaced with the offerings
of coloured wool meant to represent the animals.9 In the evening, the
dignitaries and representatives who participated in the morning oath-
swearing session at the Palace chapel, assembled again for the annual
chanting of Sikkim’s national anthem.10

Plate 34: The Palace chapel or Tsuglakhang at Gangtok

9
These offering rituals of wool and prayer flags are still performed today on the
occasion of Pang Lhabsol in many corners of Sikkim under the instructions of the Palace.
10
This partial description of Pang Lhabsol is based on a few people’s rendition of
the events as they remembered them. The main contributions are from Yap Sherap
(Tateng Kaji) and Captain Sonam Yongda, one of the late Chogyal’s ADCs.
318 chapter ten

In Tingchim, as in all other villages in Sikkim during the time of

the kingdom, Pang Lhabsol was observed by first sending offerings of
chang or grain to the Chogyal through their representative. These
were to be part of the tsog offerings for the rituals at the Palace cha-
pel which would involve a large number of monks over several days.
In exchange, the representative was fed and sent back with a maund
(40 kg) of salt for the village. Offerings were also sent to the Phodong
monastery where rituals were being held. Back home in the village,
Pang Lhabsol was celebrated at the village’s prayer hall with one person
from each household attending the ritual and the festivities. On that
day, the lamas performed the Nesol as part of the chirim (see below). A
long time ago, I was told, the villagers would also partake in a victory
dance with sword and shield where Kangchendzönga was celebrated
as warrior god. Every family used to keep a sword and a shield and
the same dance was performed before going to war. Although villagers
usually did not attend the rituals in Gangtok, sending a representative
with an offering of freshly harvested grain, receiving the salt for the
village from the Palace and their own simultaneous performance of
Nesol in honour of Dzönga, Yabdü and all the deities of Sikkim, effec-
tively linked Tingchim to the Palace, the land and all other villages in
Sikkim. Together they performed a national ritual where Dzönga was
honoured as a national symbol. Since the end of the monarchy, Pang
Lhabsol has gradually lost its importance and although the day is still
observed, the rituals have been simplified. As at the Palace chapel, it
is now only celebrated in Tingchim with the performance of the Nesol
by a few monks at the village’s prayer hall. In 1993, when Tingchim
villagers sent their representative to the Palace with a basket of chang
as an offering for Pang Lhabsol, Chogyal Wangchuk Namgyal is said to
have told him that it would no longer be necessary to come again in
the future. This had a profoundly demoralizing effect on Tingchim as
if eighteen years after the political demise of Sikkim as a kingdom, its
symbol eventually ritually died as well for the villagers.
During the years preceding 1975, the arrival of Rinpoches from Tibet
and their settlement in Sikkim in the late 1950s also contributed to the
development of the village’s relations with the outside world through
Buddhism. Once the 16th Karmapa established his Dharma Chakra
Centre at Rumtek, his monastery became a regular place of pilgrim-
age for Tingchim villagers. Although visits have now diminished since
the death of the 16th Karmapa in 1981, the monastery is still visited
once a year by Tingchim women. Until the Tibetan Rinpoches’ arrival,
 ritual, the village and the state 319

Plate 35: The Palace at Gangtok

New Year, which was celebrated at Losung, was a time for rejoicing
and festivities rather than a Buddhist event. It was celebrated after the
harvest when the fields were resting and villagers had plenty to eat
and time to celebrate. The Tibetan Rinpoches celebrated New Year
two months later at Losar, the first day of the first month of the lunar
calendar, which usually falls some time towards the end of February
or early March and corresponds to a lean period in the village when
people are waiting for the winter harvest to ripen. In Sikkim, only
wealthy people were in a position to celebrate at that time of the year
but when the 16th Karmapa encouraged Tingchim villagers to change
their New Year from Losung to Losar, the cardamom fields were being
expanded, which provided them with the needed income to do so. From
the mid-sixties, at the 16th Karmapa’s recommendation, the celebra-
tions of Losung were replaced by a Buddhist household tsog offering by
lamas and all the New Year celebrations, which went on for fifteen
days, were carried over to Losar. The household tsog was an expensive
affair where a large number of village lamas officiated for the welfare
and prosperity of the family and where one person per household was
invited. Tsog succeeded each other from house to house during the
320 chapter ten

eleventh month, which is considered an auspicious time for weddings

and other household rituals.
While Buddhist community rituals were held and attended in large
numbers before 1975, the community aspects of their celebration have
since been met with an increasing level of resistance. Tingchim villagers
say that in those days, people had much stronger faith and all religious
specialists were more powerful. Now, they complain that these rituals
have become too expensive, that the price of meat, essential in such
celebrations, has gone up, that their cardamom fields don’t produce as
much as they used to, that the buying power of the rupee has gone down
and that they don’t trust those who manage the funds collected for the
celebrations of any community celebration that requires a contribution.
But it also seems that all these community Buddhist celebrations that
marked Tingchim’s participation in the Buddhist kingdom and enhanced
its sense of belonging lost some of their attractiveness after Sikkim’s
accession to India and the end of its Buddhist monarchy. From then
on, as we will see in the following section, the village’s relation with
the state and the outside world developed on very different grounds,
and the role of religion in helping to create a sense of identity among
Tingchim villagers took a different turn.
People insist that before the end of the Buddhist monarchy in 1975,
the following Buddhist rituals held at the village’s prayer hall for the
benefit of the village as a whole were better attended than they are
today:
1. Nyungne (smyung gnas). Held on the 15th of the 1st lunar month.
Participation: a group of elder women or nyungne am pray together at
the village’s prayer hall from the 14th evening till the 16th morning
while observing certain rules of abstinence.
2. Bumkor (’bum bskor). Held on the 15th of the 3rd lunar month.
Scriptures are taken out of the village’s prayer hall and carried on
people’s shoulders to the lake and the mendong in order to bless the
village. Participation: lamas and two people per household with com-
munal feast at the prayer hall. Bumkor is the largest and most important
religious event in Tingchim.
3. Saka Dawa (Sa ga zla ba). Held on the 15th of the 4th lunar month.
The day Buddha Shakyamuni attained enlightenment at Bodhgaya at
the age of thirty-five. Participation: village lamas and nyungne am.
4. Druko Tseshi (Drug pa’i tshes bzhi ). Held on the 4th of the 6th lunar
month. Celebration of Buddha’s first teaching at Sarnath on the ‘Four
Noble Truths’ seven weeks after his enlightenment. Participation: lamas.
 ritual, the village and the state 321

Villagers come to the village’s prayer hall, not for praying but for the
annual maintenance of the prayer hall and its paths.
5. Pang Lhabsol (dPang lha gsol ). Held on the 15th of the 7th lunar
month. Sikkim’s national day and ritual during the time of the king-
dom. Participation: lamas.
6. Labab Duchen (Lha babs dus chen). Held on the 22nd of the 9th lunar
month. Buddha Shakyamuni’s descent from heaven. Participation: lamas
and nyungne am.
7. Losung (lo bsrung). Farmer’s New Year held on the first day of the
11th lunar month. No rituals held at the village’s prayer hall but some
Tingchim lamas and villagers attend the rituals and cham dances held
at the Phodong monastery on the last days of the year.
8. Chirim (spyi rim). Common or popular ritual held at the village’s
prayer hall by the lamas and the bongthing in order to prevent and cure
illness for the whole village when need arises during the monsoon. As
mentioned below, the chirim was initially performed on a regular basis
at Pang Lhabsol as a preventive ritual but is now only performed when
need arises as a curing ritual for the whole village. Participation: lamas
and bongthing.

Plate 36: Village lamas reading scriptures at the mani lhakhang on the occasion
of the annual Bumkor
322 chapter ten

2.1. The joint celebration of bon and Buddhism in village and state rituals
In pre-1975 Sikkim, not only were community Buddhist rituals bet-
ter attended, the latter had surprisingly well integrated aspects of bon
and Lepcha rituals. This amiable integration finds its best expression
in Tingchim in the celebration of the chirim ritual. Formerly, similar
ritual co-operation between village lamas and various non-Buddhist
ritual specialists must have been common throughout Sikkim since
such co-operative rituals were even discreetly performed at the Palace
chapel. I believe these joint rituals to be the best expression of Sikkim’s
peculiar ritual culture, which flourished on the border of the greater
Tibetan cultural area.
The chirim ritual, previously called mangchö, has known three dif-
ferent forms, each reflecting a period of the village’s recent religious
history. These successive adaptations illustrate how bon and Buddhist
ritual specialists have continued to officiate diplomatically side by side
as Buddhism gradually took over the rituals of the community as a
group. In its first form, as far as the present bongthing can remember,
the mangchö was held once a year, on the outskirts of the village around
the month of April when the winter harvest was ripening. In the same
way as the Lepchas do, Ajo Bongthing, and later Ajo Pawo, would first
erect a horizontal bamboo pole in the direction of Kangchendzönga,
and on it each household would hang its own little basket of offerings,
consisting of a small piece of cloth to identify itself, along with some
grains of millet, maize and rice. A series of labyong offerings set on
banana leaves were laid out and offered to all the ajo anyo and latsen,
and an ox was sacrificed and offered to all the supernatural beings of
the territory. The sacrifice was followed by a large village feast. Some
say that at the same time, the lamas performed a Nesol offering at the
village’s prayer hall for the higher deities of the land.
The mangchö was the most important annual ritual of the community.
Its performance was abandoned following the death of Ajo Pawo in
1961, which coincided with the 16th Karmapa’s intervention in the
matter of animal sacrifice in 1962. In its second form, as the sacrifice
of the ox was now rejected, the mangchö was given the name chirim
(common ritual) and was brought to the village’s prayer hall, a change
which marked the end of what villagers called bon as the community’s
main ritual practice. The village’s most important community ritual,
which was then attended by the entire village, became the Bumkor. It
was held by the lamas on the 15th of the 3rd lunar month, which
 ritual, the village and the state 323

roughly corresponds to the time of the old mangchö. In those days, the
Buddhist scriptures held in the village’s prayer hall used to be taken
from house to house as is still done in certain villages. Since the books
had to be received in all Buddhist corporate households, participation
in the Bumkor became the most important ritual in terms of defining
community membership. Ramble mentions a similar example in south-
ern Mustang where the Sakyapa monks took over the ritual articulation
of the communal unity of Kag by taking over the performance of the
Loyak ritual where participation defined each household’s inclusion in
the social life of the village (1993: 55).
This second form of chirim, which was now held at Pang Lhabsol at
the end of August or early September, was an interesting exercise at
bringing bon and Buddhist ritual specialists together and placing the
bongthing under the influence of the lamas. The chirim became the only
recurring ritual where the bongthing and the lamas participated in the
performance of a community ritual within the village’s prayer hall,
momentarily addressing the same supernatural beings for the same
ritual purpose during the performance of the Nesol. First, in front
of the prayer hall and with the help of villagers, the bongthing would
build a long frame of bamboo on which a series of at least six labyong
offerings were laid out on banana leaves, each for a particular group
or individual ajo, anyo, gyepo and latsen with the usual offerings of grain,
flowers and eggs. Inside the prayer hall, the lamas performed the
Nesol and at the appropriate moment, would call the bongthing inside
so that he would personally chant the oral khelen section of the Nesol
for Kangchendzönga and all other higher deities of the land.11 The
lamas then resumed the reading of the Nesol text while the bongthing
returned outside to perform his own labyong offering and khelen for the
less important supernatural beings not specifically covered by the khelen
of the lamas’ Nesol. At the end of the labyong, in the same way as the
Lepchas do, the bongthing would break the eggs, putting the yolks in
a bowl in which he would read predictions for the village. While the
lamas and the bongthing together invoked and made offerings to the
supernatural beings of the land, it was considered the bongthing’s duty
to send them back home, and especially send back the troublesome

11
Diemberger has also observed co-operative rituals between lamas and lhabon
in Khumbo where the lhabon is invited to recite his invocation as part of the lamas’
ritual (1996).
324 chapter ten

ones after making them promise not to come back to create trouble
in the village until they were called again the following year to receive
their new offerings. The bamboo frame covered with labyong was then
taken to the lake, and a village feast followed at the prayer hall with
one person per household participating. This form of chirim performed
at the time of Pang Lhabsol was last held in Tingchim in 1994.
There was another similar occasion held at the village’s prayer hall,
this one a curing ritual rather than a regular preventive one—as the
mangchö and the chirim have been until now—when the same Nesol would
be performed with the combined participation of the lamas and the
bongthing. If there were many sick people at a given time during the
summer, the lamas would hold a series of dö rituals ( gye dö, tsen dö and
yam dö) while the bongthing performed his series of labyong in front of the
prayer hall. At the appropriate moment, he would again be called in to
chant the khelen of the lamas’ Nesol. If there were many sick people in
the village at the time of Pang Lhabsol, the lamas would then perform
their curing rituals as part of the chirim, but otherwise it would be per-
formed earlier during the summer, when villagers were plagued with
dysentery. Eventually, as Pang Lhabsol gradually lost its importance as a
national ritual, the bongthing realised that there was no longer any reason
for him to hold it twice a year—when the villagers were sick in July and
again at Pang Lhabsol in August-September. In 1995, he decided to hold
it only once during the summer, whenever his performance was most
needed by the village. In this way, in its third form, the chirim became
an occasional curing ritual for the whole village and Pang Lhabsol was
reduced to a simple performance of the Nesol by the lamas with no
village attendance or communal feast.
The combined participation and respect for both the bon and Bud-
dhist ritual specialists must have found local expression in many similar
ways throughout Sikkim.12 The following examples, illustrating the
tolerance and respect the Chogyals showed towards the non-Buddhist
ritual specialists within their Buddhist kingdom, may be interpreted in

12
The chirim also used to be held twice a year by the Sherpas in Nepal as a preven-
tive ritual against spirit attacks although the Sherpa lamas’ exorcistic dö ritual was not
attended by any other ritual specialists (Fürer-Haimendorf 1964: 252). The Lepchas,
however, performed a very similar chirim just across the valley in Lingthem to keep
illness away from the community where the mun, the female shaman of the Lepcha,
participated alongside the lamas, although the ritual was held just outside the precincts
of the monastery. The Lepcha’s chirim went one step further as the lama’s dö ritual was
performed alongside the mun’s sacrifice of a goat (Gorer 1987 [1938]: 228–30).
 ritual, the village and the state 325

different ways. Some believe that expressions of this amiable co-existence

were encouraged by the Chogyals in pre-1975 Sikkim as a diplomatic
measure to encourage the happy co-existence of the Lhopos and the
Lepchas, and the Chogyals’ popularity. I believe that, at least in the
early days, these were more the expression of a laisser-faire attitude and
of the true nature and belief of the Sikkimese, to which the Chogyals
themselves subscribed.
During the time of the kingdom and apparently until the late 1980s,
some bon ritual specialists were invited to participate discreetly at the
following state functions and officiate at certain personal rituals of
the royal household. These events were described to me by Captain
Yongda, who had been one of Chogyal Palden Thondup Namgyal’s
last ADCs (Aides de Camp). On the occasion of the harvest rituals of
biatsi and natsi for the Chogyal’s fields, a Lepcha bongthing would be
invited to the Palace and offer a khelen for the ajo anyo and local super-
natural beings who inhabit the area of the Chogyals’ former residence
at Rabdentsi, as well as of the current Palace at Gangtok. The royal
household’s pho lha mo lha were propitiated on a separate occasion by
Jowo Bonpo from Nako-Chongpung village near Pemayangtse in West
Sikkim, whose family responsibility it has been for generations.13 Jowo
Bonpo’s ritual performance was held around the time of the Kagyed cham
held at the Palace chapel just before Losung. He would also perform
a ritual called sinen (sri mnan) in order to counter the thirteen kinds of
negative forces at the root of all problems, as well as a yangku or long
life ritual for the royal household. Around the same time, before the
Kagyed cham performed by the Pemayangtse lamas, in a little room next
to the Palace chapel, a Lepcha bongthing would discreetly hold an offering
ritual. It is said that he would do so in the hope of escaping the notice
of the Pemayangtse lamas, who would probably have objected to its
performance. In his khelen, the Lepcha bongthing made offerings to the
Lepcha ancestors Thekongtek and his wife Nyökongnga as well as to all
the local deities and supernatural beings of the land. At Pang Lhabsol,
while the cham and its rituals were being held at the Palace chapel, as
mentioned above, a Lepcha bongthing would perform a ritual for Yabdü,

13
Jowo Bonpo belongs to the Bonpo clan, one of the eight clans of the Bebtsengye
discussed in chapter 2. Jowo Bonpo is the last practising bon ritual specialist belonging
to the Bonpo clan and his family today remains the sole custodian of the bon rituals
performed for the twelve clans in West Sikkim. This may be due to his family’s long-
standing ritual responsibilities towards the royal household.
326 chapter ten

the guardian of Sikkim’s southern gate, at his abode above the Teesta to
the south of present-day Sikkim. And around the same time, a Lepcha
bongthing was sent back to the Lepcha reserve of Dzongu in North Sik-
kim to hold a ritual in honour of Kongchen Chyu, the mountain god
Kangchendzönga who was offered a yak on the occasion.

3. Religion, the village and its changing relations in

post-1975 sikkim

The pace of change in Tingchim accelerated after 1975 but especially

through the 1980s. The village school was upgraded from Class IV to
Class VIII in 1985 and as the state administration expanded,14 more and
more villagers found employment as civil servants and left the village.
By 1995, there were twenty-six people originally from Tingchim on the
Government’s payroll of whom four were women; a total of eleven are
still residing in the village.15 As we have seen, the village’s administra-
tion was changed after 1975, and from the mid-1980s it increasingly
applied itself to acquiring Tingchim’s share of the development funds
allocated to the North District or the various departmental facilities
extended to Scheduled Tribes. Over the years, about eleven Tingchim
youths managed to secure a government contract for implementing
infrastructural development works in the village. At the time, the
chance of obtaining a government contract or even a government job
was based solely on people’s political allegiance and support extended
during electoral campaigns. The youths’ participation in political rallies
became important since their economic future, which was increasingly
being jeopardised by the shortage of land, depended on the victory of
their political candidate.
People of Nepalese origin in Sikkim represent more than seventy-
five percent of the population, and political power has been in their
hands ever since the end of the monarchy. Whether power has been
concentrated in the hands of the Chetri-Bāhuns or in that of other

14
In 1978, there were a total of 7200 state government employees, with 10,909 in
1983, 18,407 in 1986 and some 30,000 by 1995.
15
Of these twenty-six, seven are employed by the Department of Education, seven
by various police and security departments, five by the Department of Agriculture
and the remaining seven are all working for different departments in various junior
capacities.
 ritual, the village and the state 327

ethnic groups of Nepalese origin such as the Rais and the Limbus, the
Lhopos and the Lepchas have had to make various political alliances
with them over the years. These have rarely been to the community’s
advantage, despite the fact that twelve seats, plus one for the Sangha
(Sikkimese lamas), are reserved for Bhutias16 and Lepchas in Sikkim’s
32-seat Legislative Assembly. Lhopo and Lepcha politicians could never
openly promote their ethnic communities’ interests since they would
not be allowed to run in the elections by their respective Nepalese-
dominated political parties. This is even true of the constituencies of
the North District that are the only ones with a Lhopo and Lepcha
majority. In light of this, the village’s Lhopo youths’ need for employ-
ment and increased participation in politics is drawing them more and
more into Nepalese dominated circles. And to their parents’ disap-
pointment, they are increasingly being influenced by Nepalese values,
language and culture.
The other major influence on Tingchim’s youth since the mid-1980s
is their simultaneous Indianisation through education and television.
In school, Tingchim children follow the same curriculum as all other
children in India. They chant India’s national anthem, celebrate India’s
Independence Day and learn about India’s ancient history long before
they hear about the history of Sikkim in the vernacular Bhutia (Lhoke
or Sikkimese) language classes, which were implemented in the late
1980s. The language of instruction and that of school books for all
other subjects is English, but since most teachers in village schools
can’t really speak the language properly, for all practical purposes,
Nepali remains the lingua franca of the classroom. Electricity came to
Tingchim in 1987 and was immediately followed by television. Since
then, the number of television sets has steadily increased following
each generous cardamom harvest and, by the end of 1995, there were
twenty-two television sets in the village. Children and young adults are
particularly fond of Hindi films, which they watch at least twice a week,
while adults over forty generally don’t watch much television since they
don’t understand Hindi, and everything they see on the screen seems
too strange and foreign to them. The favourite viewing across genera-
tions remains sport, and at the end of 1995, Tingchim’s first satellite

16
The Constitution’s definition of Bhutia applies in this case. The definition also
includes Chumbipa, Dopthapa, Dukpa, Kagatay, Sherpa, Tibetan, Tromopa, Yolmo
(Constitution (Sikkim) Scheduled Tribes Order, 1978).
328 chapter ten

dish was being installed so as to receive the sports channel beamed in

by Star TV from Hong Kong. During the 1994 World Cup, which fell
during school holidays, a large number of people stayed up all night
in order to follow the matches ‘live’ and, for the first time, feel part of
the global community.
In light of these political realities and cultural influences, the impor-
tance Buddhism once enjoyed as the village’s privileged avenue for
relations with the outside world and the centre of power, as well as
the village’s main form of education and entertainment and way of
conferring on villagers a sense of Sikkimese identity, has since greatly
diminished. Nonetheless, partly because of the Tibetan high lamas and
Rinpoches who found employment in government Buddhist institutes
and founded their own institutions, Buddhism retained some of its
economic and political importance in the state even after the abolition
of the Buddhist monarchy. The Tibetan high lamas and Rinpoches
helped to provide educational opportunities which, to a certain extent,
permitted the lamas to compete in post-1975 Sikkim, although this trend
only affected Tingchim after 1985. Upon completion of his course, a
graduate lama from the government’s Institute of Higher Nyingma
Studies receives a degree equivalent to that of BA or MA. This allows
him to apply for work as a civil servant, particularly as a vernacular
language teacher in government schools. Graduates from the Tibetan
institutes such as the college or meditation centres of the Karmapa’s
international Dharma Chakra Centre, if lucky, may even be offered
teaching positions in countries as far away as Taiwan.
From a political point of view, Sikkim is the only state in India where
a religious body has been given political recognition in order to accom-
modate the evolution of the political institutions of the state. According
to the Indian Constitution, one seat in Sikkim’s Legislative Assembly
is reserved for the Sangha or the assembly of lamas. In theory, the
Sangha MLA is elected by the lamas of the state as their representative
to Government. Inevitably, Tibetan Kagyud and Nyingma Rinpoches
who have access to international funding and enjoy large followings in
the state have a great influence on Sikkimese monasteries. They are
said to have sought involvement in these elections by financing the
electoral campaign of the Sikkimese lama-candidate of their choice
who would in return facilitate the activities and expansion of their
particular Buddhist school in Sikkim. It is generally thought that, over
the years, the educational and political aspects of Buddhism in Sikkim
have more and more become associated with personal achievement
 ritual, the village and the state 329

and the prospect of financial gain rather than promoting the interest
and welfare of the lamas and the monasteries. As evidence, the elected
Sangha MLA himself, for many years, was not even appointed as the
Sangha Minister, but instead, was given some unrelated department
to look after.
In Tingchim, the new generation of lamas has not been spared by
these developments. Before the 1980s, Tingchim lamas were trained
locally by the lama-teacher. Every day, students went to his house where
they learned how to read Tibetan and were trained in the performance
of ritual over a period of years. In exchange, they worked in their
teacher’s house and fields until they completed their education. Then,
they undertook meditation retreat during the monsoon summer months
under the supervision of Tsam Khang Ajo or the Sesung Gomchen
in retreat huts (mtshams khang) built for this purpose above the village.
With these retreats, they hoped to acquire the powers needed to make
their divinations as well as their curing and exorcistic rituals more effec-
tive. Relatives and villagers offered food to the lamas in retreat which
established a strong bond between sponsor and practitioner. Upon
completion of his retreat, which could go on for over three years, the
practitioner was indebted to his village sponsors and thus had a certain
obligation to remain in the village in order to perform their household
rituals, a bond which was lost once the lama-students started joining the
meditation centres established by the Tibetan Rinpoches in the 1980s.
Upon completion of their studies in such centres, some students then
undertook a ‘three years three months’ meditation retreat (lo gsum zla
gsum) in one of the five meditation centres of Sikkim and North Bengal
supervised by Tibetan Rinpoches. Only those who failed to obtain a
job eventually returned to the village to farm the land and practise as
village lamas. At the time of fieldwork in 1995, out of a total of thirty
lamas in Tingchim, only one was still studying in the village while thir-
teen were studying at the monastic schools of Phodong, Deorali and
new Rumtek, each in the hope that his training would lead to some
kind of employment.
As a result of the diminishing importance of community and state
Buddhism in post-1975 Sikkim, the household rituals of village reli-
gion were not only well maintained but seemed to have gained a new
dimension. The disintegration of the economic, political and Buddhist
relations that used to tie Lhopo villagers into an inter-dependent com-
munity linked to the Phodong monastery and the Palace has led to a
certain level of disorientation and isolation. Even before 1975, Tingchim
330 chapter ten

was already somewhat more isolated and not as well connected with
Gangtok compared to other Lhopo villages. This may be due to its
geographical location on the farthest and northern-most edge of the
Phodong ‘parish’; to a feud that isolated the village from the Phodong
monastery in the 1930s and 40s; to the fact that it was surrounded by
Lepchas; that it was never under the administration of a kaji holding a
Gangtok residence; that Nepalese labourers arrived here only in the late
1930s; that it was a Kagyud village with strong ties with new Rumtek
while the majority of Sikkimese villages are Nyingma; or that Bud-
dhism strongly implemented itself at a relatively later date. Whatever
the reasons, when the post-1975 changes swept across Sikkim, Tingchim
villagers seem not to have been as ready to keep up with changing times
and take advantage of the new opportunities compared to Lhopos from
villagers living further south and in western Sikkim who had already
been exposed, decades earlier, to the Nepalese language, state politics;
and ‘foreign’ ideas such the need for education beyond grade IV. This
isolation from Gangtok is also evident in the close relation Tingchim
enthusiastically developed with the 16th Karmapa and his monastery
from the 1960s, and its change of New Year celebration from the Sik-
kimese Losung to the Tibetan Losar, a change which was effected by only
a few other villages in Sikkim. Following the 16th Karmapa’s death in
1981, Tingchim found itself not only at the periphery of the Sikkimese
world but also at the periphery of the Tibetan Buddhist world as its
relations with Rumtek waned.
In this state of change and isolation, not only in its relations with
the outside world but also among the villagers themselves following the
earlier takeover of their economic ties by Nepalese tenants and Marwari
merchants, adult villagers who did not benefit from the educational
changes and opportunities brought by the 1980s, and did not establish
new relations with the outside world, seem to have been drawn together
through the practice of village religion. To my knowledge, this practice
has survived in Tingchim better than in many other Lhopo villages in
Sikkim. Indeed, I have not come across any other Lhopo villages where
the harvest rituals are still strictly performed biannually by every single
household and where the bongthing and the pawo are first consulted in
most cases of illness. As I have already argued, the village folded back
onto itself and its supernatural world as if village religion was the only
avenue left to consolidate its communal existence. Conventional Bud-
dhism had always been associated with Tibetan Rinpoches and Sik-
kimese learned lamas in a world to which villagers aspired but which
 ritual, the village and the state 331

nevertheless lay beyond the boundary of the village. On the other hand,
the household rituals for ancestral gods and the supernatural beings of
the land, which so well reflect the villagers’ worldview, always belonged
to villagers regardless of the nature of their changing relations with
the outside world.
The central importance of household rituals is not an isolated phe-
nomenon restricted to a few villages like Tingchim. Although Tingchim
may be an extreme case where the agricultural and non-Buddhist aspects
of these rituals has been well maintained, household rituals held for the
rites of passage by the lamas and the bongthing, where a large number
of guests spend the day in the host’s house, still play a very important
social role for all rural and urban Lhopos.17 Considering the lack of
political unity and leadership among the Lhopos since the end of the
monarchy and the end of its state rituals, large household rituals held at
weddings, funerals and other such occasions have become an important
venue for Lhopos all over Sikkim to meet on neutral ground beyond
their political and other differences.
While Tingchim villagers were busy consolidating their community
through the practice of village religion in the 1980s, Lhopos everywhere
in the state felt the need to redefine Lhopo identity as a consequence
of developments in Gangtok. Lhopos in Gangtok and elsewhere in
Sikkim went through a crisis following an accusation made by a politi-
cian in the late 1970s, which eventually had widespread repercussions
on the education of Lhopos throughout the state. When the question
of seat reservations for Bhutia and Lepcha tribes in Sikkim’s Legisla-
tive Assembly was being discussed in the Assembly in the late 1970s,
a Nepalese-speaking Minister, in an effort to obtain seat reservations
for people of Nepalese origin whose political rights were being threat-
ened by an influx of plains people after the merger, is said to have
suggested that the Bhutias (Lhopos) had no rights to seat reservations
since, according to him, they were not among the original inhabitants
of the land. He argued that Nepalese, on the other hand, were thought

17
In West Sikkim, where relations between a number of Lhopo villages centred
around a single monastery are more extensive than in Tingchim, the performance of
household rituals not only help maintain the social ties of a single village’s households
but of the greater Lhopo community of the area. For example, clan rituals held among
the twelve clans of West and South Sikkim in honour of their pho lha mo lha are not
limited to the gathering of clan members from a single village, as in the case of the
pawo’s annual retreat in Tingchim, but bring together households of the same clan
from a number of neighbouring villages.
332 chapter ten

to have been in the country since time immemorial. According to him,

Lhopos were foreigners who had come from Tibet and thus could not
claim the privileges of tribal status, which were reserved for India’s
original inhabitants. Curiously, he argued in such a way even though
the Bhutias’ (Lhopos) ancestors had been the founders of Sikkim as a
kingdom, a state that was not Indian but part of the Tibetan cultural
area and paid tribute to Lhasa; and that they had been granted the
Scheduled Tribes status by New Delhi in 1978 without them even having
asked for it. To back his argument, he pointed out that the language
Lhopo children study in vernacular classes was Tibetan,18 the language
of a foreign land. This accusation had great consequences and fuelled
the Lhopos’ need to distance themselves even further from everything
Tibetan and start cultivating and asserting a Sikkimese Lhopo identity
of their own. Although the Lhopos have always felt very different from
Tibetans, emulating them by looking towards the Lhasa aristocracy
and conventional Buddhism as the cultural ideal was no longer to their
advantage in post-1975 Sikkim. This attraction to Tibetan high culture
had mainly been the concern of the Sikkimese aristocracy, high lamas,
and urban Lhopos, a concern that had not affected Lhopo villagers who
always had their own Sikkimese ritual culture and traditions.
Following this attack however, the Lhopos became more aware of
themselves as a community under threat, sharing a common language,
history, traditions and religion that all needed to be properly defined
and promoted as having a distinctive and unique Sikkimese character.
This led to the introduction of Sikkimese or Lhoke language classes and
the teaching of Sikkimese history in the vernacular classes for Lhopo
children in Government schools. Until then, Lhoke had been written
using the Tibetan script, which, it was felt, did not suit its pronuncia-
tion. A new simplified script was elaborated,19 and language text books
were written. Histories were compiled for Class VI to XII relating
the important phases of Sikkim’s early history, clearly highlighting the

18
Although Sikkimese don’t speak Tibetan but their own Lhoke dialect, the Palace
had encouraged the teaching of Tibetan in schools in order to promote the teaching
of Buddhism since Buddhist scriptures used throughout the Tibetan cultural area are
all written in the same Tibetan language called chos skad, or the language of religion.
19
The new Lhoke script still used Tibetan characters but greatly simplified the
Tibetan way of spelling, discarding the use of unpronounced prefixes and suffixes.
Although criticised by Tibetans who considered this an offence to their script, those
who elaborated it thought that if the use of Lhoke language was to survive, it had to
be made easier to learn.
 ritual, the village and the state 333

blood brotherhood established between the Lepchas and Lhopos in

the thirteenth century and the Lhopos’ role in the creation of Sikkim
as a Buddhist kingdom in the seventeenth century. Finally this new pro-
gram was implemented and reached the school in Tingchim in 1988.
The need for the Lhopos to assert their original Sikkimese or ‘sons of
the soil’ identity found perfect expression in their worship of the deities
of the land, a trend that continued in the 1990s. Indeed, the worship
of local and ancestral deities and sacred locations clearly highlights the
Sikkimese Lhopos’ ancient relationship with the land. This distinguishes
them from Tibetans, Sherpas and other people of Nepalese origin who,
as recent immigrants, and unlike the lho men tsong sum,20 generally do not
recognise the territorial deities of Sikkim with the possible exception of
Kangchendzönga, Sikkim’s national mountain deity. In addition to the
monasteries and their ritual culture, the domestic rituals that in many
cases are a celebration of the territorial and ancestral deities further
contributed to promote the Lhopos’ distinct identity.
Sonam Yongda,21 a lama of Pemayangtse monastery, applied himself
particularly well at promoting this rediscovered identity, where Sikkimese
Buddhist teachings and the worship of local and ancestral deities, as well
as language, history, dress, crafts and traditions were given a new life
and level of appreciation. These subjects were and are still being taught
to the Lhopo, Lepcha and Limbu children of his school, the Denjong
Padma Choeling Academy in West Sikkim. Since its foundation in 1979
he, his family and staff have dedicated themselves to preserving and

20
Lhori (Bhutia), Menri (Lepcha), Tsong (Buddhist Limbus), sum (three), are con-
sidered the three original populations of Sikkim.
21
Yap Sonam Yongda was Captain in the Sikkim Guards and one of Chogyal
Palden Thundup Namgyal’s last ADCs. As a staunch nationalist, he was first impris-
oned in 1975 when the Indian Army took over Sikkim and again in 1977 during the
Emergency. After his liberation seven months later, he joined Sikkimese politics and
co-founded the Sikkim Janata Parishad with N.B. Bhandari in the hope of regaining
and defending the rights of the true Sikkimese, or ‘sons of the soil’, that had been
lost after the merger. After the party’s victory in the 1979 elections, followed by N.B.
Bhandari’s betrayal in 1982 when the party was merged with Indira Gandhi’s Congress
(I), Captain Yongda became a social worker and retreated to his school in West Sikkim.
He rejoined politics (Naya Sikkim Party) in 1985 and was again imprisoned in 1986
under Bhandari’s orders but eventually released in 1987 thanks to the intervention
of Amnesty International. Determined to stay out of politics this time, he returned
to his school and retreated to the Pemayangtse monastery. He was honoured with a
National Award by the President of India for his outstanding achievement in the field
of child welfare in 1989.
334 chapter ten

promoting everything Sikkimese, including the harmonious coexistence

of Sikkim’s original ethnic communities, the lho men tsong sum.

4. Identity in the 1990s and the

revival of Buddhism in the state

The 1990s have brought a renewal of Buddhism at the state level for
reasons other than the celebration of Sikkim as a Buddhist kingdom.
This revival has been sparked by a variety of circumstances coming
from three different quarters: the OBCs (Other Backward Classes), the
Tibetans and the Sikkimese Lhopos. What is perhaps unusual or unex-
pected about this revival is that it is primarily manifesting itself among
the younger, educated and politically conscious generation and that it is
trying to shed its communal connotations. In many ways, I believe this
revival finds its force in the pan-Himalayan and international success
of Tibetan Buddhism today. For an increasing number of Sikkimese,
Buddhism is regaining some of its pre-1975 role as a privileged avenue
for relations with the outside world, although the ‘outside world’ has
come to redefine itself in this new era of globalisation with satellite
TV and the Internet now available in Sikkim.
The status of Scheduled Tribe and its privileges, which had been
attributed to the Bhutias and the Lepchas in 1978, sparked some jeal-
ousies among the Limbus, Tamangs, Gurungs and other communities
residing in Sikkim. Among these, the Sikkimese Tsongs (Buddhist Lim-
bus) were probably the most unfairly treated since they are considered by
all to be one of Sikkim’s three indigenous communities. The Tsongs were
settled in West Sikkim long before the Gorkha occupation of Sikkim
West of the Teesta from 1789 until 1815. The land of the Limbus or
Limbuana, which shares its eastern border with Sikkim, was even con-
sidered a Sikkimese province until the Limbus revolted against Chogyal
Gyurmed Namgyal in the early 1700s (Namgyal 1908: 46). During the
1990s, in their efforts to be included among Sikkim’s Scheduled Tribes,
the Limbu association started building a number of Buddhist temples,
the word ‘Buddhist’ having practically become synonymous with the
word ‘tribal’ in Sikkim. Some Limbus, descendants of immigrants from
Nepal, have been gradually converting to Buddhism as well, which I
was told mainly meant that they get cremated by the Teesta instead of
being buried, and abstain from animal sacrifices during the Nepalese
festival of Dasain.
 ritual, the village and the state 335

The Tamangs and the Gurungs have also formed Buddhist associa-
tions and, like the Rais, the Magars, the Sunwars and the Bhujels,
instigated similar procedures in the hope of being granted tribal status
by New Delhi. As part of their efforts, the religiously mixed Limbus,
Tamangs and Gurungs went out of their way to promote their ‘tribal
identity’ by rejecting Hinduism and publicising their participation in
Buddhism. This became particularly evident around the time of the
main Hindu and Buddhist festivals in Gangtok when leaflets were
distributed around town, calling for the boycott of Dasain while the
celebration of Gangtok’s Bumkor was attended by an increasing number
of people from these communities. For the last few years, the Tamangs
have even started holding an independent Bumkor procession and the
Gurungs have established their own New Year festival called Lochar.
All these efforts eventually paid off and the Limbus and Tamangs were
granted the much-coveted tribal status in 2002.22 All these communi-
ties’ recent orientation to and participation in Buddhism has added
momentum to the general Buddhist movement of the nineties. These
communities are also said to be attracted by the international success
of Buddhism, which is evident to them in the wealth of Tibetan mon-
asteries and the number of foreign tourists who come to Sikkim only
to visit its monasteries.
From the Tibetan side, the main contribution to the manifestation
of Buddhism on a state level in the 1990s was the Dalai Lama’s visit
to Gangtok in the spring of 1993 for the Kalachakra initiation, which
was attended by a massive multi-ethnic audience. The Kalachakra
was the first event of its kind to unite so many Sikkimese Buddhists
since the national celebrations held during the time of the kingdom. I
sensed that some Sikkimese Lhopos, although pleased, were nevertheless
slightly annoyed by the event, not by the Dalai Lama’s presence or his
teachings, but perhaps by seeing that a non-Sikkimese was capable of
bringing together so many Buddhists in the state, something none of

22
It is believed that they will now demand the right to purchase protected land
owned by Bhutias (Lhopos) and Lepchas which, according to Land Revenue Order No
1 of 1917, cannot be bought by any other community, not even Sikkimese of recent
Tibetan or Bhutanese origins (Land Revenue Department Notification No. 28/L.R.
dated 21st April 1969). As it is often misunderstood, Land Revenue Order No 1 of
1917 has no relation to the ‘Scheduled Tribe’ status and its broad definition of Bhutia
which also includes Bhutias of Tibetan, Nepalese and Bhutanese origin. The Order
of 1917 was indeed issued long before the tribal status was defined and granted to the
Bhutias and Lepchas in 1978.
336 chapter ten

their own politicians or religious leaders had been capable of doing

since the late Chogyal. The Kalachakra had an enormous success and
greatly contributed to Sikkim’s Buddhist revival of the nineties. The
Buddhist youth in Gangtok were particularly inspired by the Dalai
Lama’s visit, which resulted in two new Buddhist youth associations
being created in 1994. Membership in the Sikkim Young Buddhist
Society was open to all young Buddhists from Sikkim, whether Lhopo,
Lepcha, Tsong, Gurung or Tamang as long as they were Sikkim Sub-
jects. Interestingly, membership was also open to overseas members.
The success of Tibetan Buddhism in developed countries is also there
to remind Sikkimese youth that the Buddhist ideals of the past have a
future in the modern world.
From the Lhopos’ quarters, a significant attempt at revival of state
level Buddhist rituals was the decision by the Sikkim Tribal Youth
Association and the Pemayangtse lamas to resume the performance
of the Pang Lhabsol ritual dances, the national ritual of the land, in
August 1993. The performance of Pang Lhabsol at the Palace cha-
pel had been suspended some time in the late 1980s when Chogyal
Wangchuk Namgyal undertook a three year three month meditation
retreat under the supervision of Chadral Rinpoche in Nepal. Upon
his return to Gangtok in the early nineties, the performance of Pang
Lhabsol was not resumed as it became the subject of misunderstandings
between Chog-yal Wangchuk, some politicians and the Sikkimese youth.
Eventually, the Pemayangtse lamas decided once again to perform the
rituals and its cham dances within the precincts of their own monastery
in West Sikkim. They had first been performed there when Chagdor
Namgyal, the third Chogyal of Sikkim, established the Pemayangtse
monastery just above the former Sikkimese capital of Rabdentsi upon
his return from Tibet. Ironically, behind this apparent manifestation
of Sikkim nationalism, around the same time, Pemayangtse monastery
was undergoing a true internationalisation. It was the first Sikkimese
monastery to join an international Buddhist organisation23 and benefit
from Taiwanese funds for the maintenance of its building and activi-
ties. Buddhism indeed started to regain some of its pre-1975 role as
a privileged avenue for relations with an outside world that has now

23
The organisation in question is the Buddha Light International Association of
Taiwan.
 ritual, the village and the state 337

come to include regions beyond neighbouring Tibet, Nepal, India and

Bhutan.
The next manifestation of Buddhism on a state level in the nineties
was the Concerned Citizens of Sikkim’s successful campaign against the
construction of the Rathong Chu hydro-electric power station at Yuk-
sum, in West Sikkim, in 1995 (see chapter 7). The project was to come
up in the sacred area of Demojong, revered as the abode of Sikkim’s
protective deities where the first Chogyal was crowned in 1642. Again,
this campaign was led by a group of educated English-speaking Lhopos
with international ties who tried to appeal to all Sikkimese Buddhists
and sought the guidance of Tibetan high lamas. Sonam Paljor, the
leading member of the campaign, was a Lhopo now living in America.
His international identity greatly contributed to his popularity.
But perhaps one of the most significant and least publicised Buddhist
developments of the nineties in terms of revival of Sikkimese Bud-
dhism rooted in the land’s sacred history and geography, was Chogyal
Wangchuk Namgyal’s opening of an impressive college and mediation
centre at Taktse near Gangtok and at the Palace chapel for the proper
education of Sikkimese lamas. The intention behind these institutions
was not only the proper education of lamas but also the preservation
and transmission of Buddhist teachings and lineages specific to Sikkim,
such as the Rig ’dzin srog sgrub, a hidden treasure revealed by Lhatsun
Namkha Jigme in the seventeenth century. Chogyal Wangchuk has gone
to great lengths to study and preserve the teachings and empowerments
of this indigenous spiritual lineage.
Other developments illustrating the Lhopos’ need to promote their
distinct identity include the Sikkim Tribal Youth Association re-organi-
sation of the Sikkimese New Year celebration. In Gangtok, Losung
celebrations grew larger every year throughout the 1990s, with drama,
cultural shows, archery competitions and concerts added to the list of
events. In addition to organising Gangtok’s festivities, the Association
put on historical dramas clearly illustrating episodes of ancient Bud-
dhist history in Sikkim.
With community Buddhist rituals and festivals losing popularity in
Tingchim in post-1975 Sikkim, the Buddhist revival of the nineties,
which started as an urban phenomenon, found its way back to the village
and became particularly evident after the exceptional cardamom harvest
at the end of 1995 when villagers again had enough money to ‘invest’
in religion. In Tingchim, the New Year’s community party at Losar had
been abandoned some years earlier after people complained that their
338 chapter ten

contributions towards the costs had been misappropriated. Eventually,

after the rich harvest of 1995, for the first time, the youths personally
sponsored the Losar party of 1996 and invited the elders. The number
of household tsog offerings held around the time of Losung, which had
been on the decline for a number of years, also started to rise and in
early 1996, a group of villagers, for the first time in years, went on a
pilgrimage to the sacred sites and hot springs of West Sikkim. After
I had left the village, I heard that older villagers who had never seen
the plains of India had started going on organised pilgrimage tours to
Bodhgaya during the winter. Other significant changes were the rise in
the number of women regularly attending the nyungne am praying ses-
sions at the village’s prayer hall from 1991 onwards and the sharp rise
in numbers of lama-students from Tingchim, a Kagyud village, joining
the Institute of Higher Nyingma Studies in Gangtok in 1995.
The declining health and eventual death in 1997 of both the
Tingchim pawo and his mother the nejum, and the subsequent difficulties
the new nejum faced in completing her training and initiation, further
contributed to strengthening the role of village Buddhism and the
lamas in Tingchim in the late 1990s. However, the end of bon rituals
doesn’t mean the end of village religion. Domestic rituals evolved out
of a longstanding co-operation between village lamas and bon ritual
specialists, and the death of the latter doesn’t imply that the village
lamas will suddenly become purists and abandon their own rituals
in honour of the ancestral gods and the deities of the land. On the
contrary, the Sikkimese ritual revival of the 1990s, from the Lhopos’
perspective, was very much concerned with Sikkim’s particular form of
Buddhism, its powerful sacred sites, local deities, religious history and
Pang Lhabsol as Sikkim’s national ritual. The 1990s saw a continuation
of the trend started in the late 1970s when the Lhopos first felt the
need to properly define their language, culture and rituals as distinct
from Tibetan or other Himalayan highlanders in order to promote
their ancient ‘sons of the soil’ identity. Considering the importance of
ethnic politics in Sikkim, the importance of their tribal status and the
urgent need to defend their economic and political rights, the capac-
ity to define and promote a distinct Sikkimese identity is not likely to
lose its importance in the coming years. Thus, the disappearance of
Sikkim’s shamans may actually strengthen the shamanic role of the
village lamas as they become the sole acceptable specialists capable of
promoting the Lhopos’ distinct cultural identity.
 ritual, the village and the state 339

This trend was indeed confirmed a few years later. The national ritual
of Pang Lhabsol that was first revived by the Pemayangtse lamas in 1993
after its performance had been abandoned at the Palace chapel was
later appropriated by a number of Sikkimese villages among both the
Lhopo and Lepcha communities. Chief among these are the monasteries
of Rabongla in South Sikkim, followed by Ringhem near Mangan in
North Sikkim and eventually by Lachung in 2005. The Lepchas even
joined the trend by celebrating Pang Lhabsol in 2005 with an elaborate
one-week long ritual involving lamas and a bonghting at their Namprik
Dang festival ground in Dzongu. But perhaps the most creative revival
of Pang Lhabsol was the one instigated by a Lhopo minister on the site
of the Statue of Unity. The statue, which the minister had put up in
the centre of Gangtok town, commemorates the thirteenth century pact
of blood brotherhood between the Lhopos and the Lepchas. Once a
year it is transformed into an altar where Lhopo lamas and Lepcha
bongthing hold common rituals on the occasion of Pang Lhabsol in order
to commemorate the blood brotherhood, and as the Lhopo politician
would wish it, hopefully consolidate Lhopo and Lepcha unity and
promote himself as a common leader.

Ever since the community Buddhist rituals took over as the official ritual
practice of the village in the 1930s and until the demise of the Buddhist
kingdom in the 1970s, Buddhism gradually developed as the village’s
main avenue for its relations with the outside world. In this chapter, we
have seen how the village’s administration and relation with the world
beyond the village then went through important changes throughout
the 1970s, 80s, and 90s. As the political and economic importance of
Buddhism diminished following the abolition of the monastic estate and
the Buddhist monarchy in post-1975 Sikkim, attendance at the annual
community Buddhist rituals held in the village, at the Phodong mon-
astery as well as in Gangtok steadily decreased. Instead, villagers were
busy establishing new political, economic and educational ties with an
outside world that now included a Sikkimese Government dominated
by Nepalese-speaking politicians. During this period of instability
and uncertainty, where village unity was being threatened by various
economic and political forces, household rituals continued to provide
a platform to maintain the ties of Tingchim’s village community. The
domestic rituals retained their importance as the village’s informal ritual
practice in the domain of health and prosperity of the household and
the fertility of the land. The most important household rituals held
340 chapter ten

for weddings and funerals provided a similar platform for Lhopos all
over Sikkim to meet on neutral ground beyond their political and other
differences. Finally, the fact that Lhopos were accused by a Nepalese-
speaking politician of being foreigners in their own land in the late
1970s triggered a need for the Lhopos to properly define themselves
as a community, sharing a common language, religion and culture well
rooted in the topography and history of the land. In turn this need to
properly define themselves indirectly strengthened the rituals that are
a celebration of their longstanding relation with the sacred land.
The 1990s saw a renewal of Buddhism for reasons other than the
celebration of Sikkim as a Buddhist kingdom. This revival was triggered
by a variety of circumstances that all contributed to re-establishing
Buddhism as a potential avenue for the development of relations with
the outside world. While some ethnic groups that were then listed as
OBCs, such as the Tamangs and the Limbus, were busy re-defining
themselves as Buddhists with the hope of being granted tribal status
by New Delhi, the Tibetans brought the Dalai Lama to Gangtok, and,
for the first time since the end of the Buddhist monarchy, succeeded in
assembling a massive multi-ethnic and multi-sectarian Buddhist audi-
ence, effectively reminding Sikkimese Buddhists of the international
status and strength of Tibetan Buddhism today. During the 1990s,
the Lhopos also contributed to bringing Sikkimese Buddhism onto the
urban scene by staging a protest movement using international Bud-
dhist resources and foreign protest methods against the construction
of a hydro-power station, which was seen as detrimental to the abode
of Sikkim’s protective deities. Among other efforts, the restoration of
Pang Lhabsol at Pemayangtse and other monasteries, Gangtok’s expanded
Losung celebrations and the performance of Sikkimese religious dramas
all contributed to a state level Buddhist revival of the 1990s that clearly
highlighted its indigenous character and the Lhopos’ ancient relation
with the land. Eventually, this Buddhist revival found its way back to
the village in the form of an increased interest and participation in the
community’s Buddhist rituals and, especially, in a sharp increase in the
number of lama-students sent to monastic schools and women joining
the nyungne group of praying women.
Despite these fluctuations, the Lhopos’ perception of the sacred land
and the accepted relation between the social, physical and supernatural
worlds remained constant elements of their religious lives. Only the
manner in which these have found expression has changed depending on
political and economic circumstances and religious influences. Similarly,
 ritual, the village and the state 341

now that the bon specialists are disappearing, the village lamas are most
likely to continue promoting and taking care of these relations. In the
end, domestic rituals are maintained neither by the shamans nor by
the village lamas but by the villagers, who invite lamas and shamans to
perform them. Thus, to answer one of the questions put forward in the
first chapter, the decline of shamanic practices and the disappearance
of Tingchim’s bon specialists cannot be equated with the decline of the
shamanic worldview: such a view remains an absolute presupposition
of culture that underpins the lama-shaman relation, as well as any
politically or religiously motivated expression it may have found.
 CHAPTER ELEVEN

CONVENTIONAL BUDDHISM AND VILLAGE RELIGION

This chapter looks more closely at the relations among the shamans,
the village lamas and their conventional Buddhist-minded counterparts.
While the pawo, the bongthing and the village lamas have established a
form of understanding and ritual collaboration which over the years
has resulted in the practice of what I have called ‘village religion’, out-
side conventional Buddhist influences seem to have come into conflict
with this local understanding repeatedly. We follow Lopen Dugyal’s
confrontation with the bon ritual specialists and the way the conflict
between village religion and conventional Buddhism expressed itself
dramatically in the course of the pawo’s annual retreat. But details of
the retreat as well as the growing conflictual relation which developed
between Lopen Dugyal and the village lamas reveal that an important
aspect of the conflict may actually have been between conventional
Buddhism and its village adaptation.

1. The case of Lopen Dugyal’s return to the village

The relation between lamas and shamans in the village seems to have
developed and evolved to its present state gently, oscillating between
a certain degree of rivalry on the one hand and assimilation and co-
operation on the other. In the end, at least in theory, the superiority of
any form of Buddhism remains unquestioned by all, mainly because
of its supremacy in the domain of death and rebirth, the power of its
Rinpoches, the superiority of its deities and the wisdom of its philosophy.
Even if villagers do not understand the Buddhist scriptures, they realise
that bon is only there to help the living, which cannot be compared
with the depth of Buddhist wisdom. Eventually, everyone will need
the help of the lamas when they finally die, but meanwhile, any form
of ritual may be sought by anyone if it may be of help when dealing
with the problems of life in this world. Thus, the rivalries are never
between bon and village Buddhism per se, but between the successful
application of different practices by the various ritual specialists in their
 conventional buddhism and village religion 343

efforts to help the living. Lamas and shamans are thought generally to
get on and work together for the welfare of the people. As mentioned
in the previous chapter, this co-existence has found its best expression
nowadays in the chirim annual ritual and, in the past, during certain
rituals performed at the Palace chapel.
In contrast to this local understanding, tensions between village reli-
gion and outside forms of conventional Buddhism have always been
present on a certain level. However, the efforts by the Lachen Gomchen,
the Sakya Lama and the 16th Karmapa were all directed at specific
aspects of bon and village religion and did not try to eliminate these
practices as a whole. In Tingchim, a new form of confrontation with
conventional Buddhism occurred when Lopen Dugyal returned to the
village as a fresh post-graduate in Buddhist philosophy. His views on bon
and village religion were naturally more dogmatic, and understandably
he was not prepared to compromise and accommodate the shamanic
views of his fellow village lamas.
Lopen Dugyal had previously been a village lama and had initially
learned to read and perform rituals from Tingchim’s lama-teacher. He
was the first lama to leave the village for a higher Buddhist education
and was also the first to return to the village—at the age of forty-one,
after nine years of study—with the Acharya or Masters Degree in
Buddhist Philosophy, which he received from the Institute of Higher
Nyingma Studies. Lopen Dugyal was my teacher, research assistant,
translator and friend. We worked together on and off, in Gangtok and
in Tingchim, over a period of two years, a period during which he
went through a personal transformation which in a way was relevant
to my research interests. As an Acharya graduate, his re-integration
into his previous role as village lama was not without its difficulties.
Like all advocates of conventional Buddhism, he initially disputed the
practice of bon and the village lamas’ lenience towards and participa-
tion in unorthodox Buddhist practices. My interest in village religion
and the assistance I needed from him in order to look into this subject
did not make matters easier for him. He was openly challenged about
his ritual powers by the shamans, while the village lamas remained
silent, but became increasingly irritated by what they saw as his intel-
lectual arrogance and the threat his knowledge represented to their
status. This confrontation was complex and painful since, despite his
high Buddhist education, Lopen Dugyal had himself been a village
lama for years and could sympathise with relatives and neighbours
and understand their need for village religion. The bon ritual specialists
344 chapter eleven

themselves were his relatives, the pawo being his maternal cousin, the
bongthing his paternal uncle, and the nejum his maternal aunt, and his
cousin the Sesung Gomchen had even been one of his teachers. Our
study and endless questioning pushed him into a deeper dialogue with
his relatives, giving a voice to the village’s ritual specialists which he
would not normally have entertained with such interest, which in turn
helped him appreciate the value of village religion and see it in a less
dogmatic way. Although he looked down upon bon and was not initially
interested in working with me on the subject, there were no personal
rivalries between him and the shamans except that he disliked the
pawo’s alcoholism and lack of care in performing and remembering his
rituals. A turning point in our working relation occurred when Lopen
Dugyal found an acceptable explanation for my interest in bon rituals.
He suddenly became convinced that I had been a nejum in my previ-
ous life and was still trying to clarify certain aspects of bon and that it
would be impossible for me to develop a greater interest in Buddhism
as long as my questions remained unanswered. It thus became his duty
to help me clarify all aspects of bon, despite the risks that this involved
for his reputation and practice, so that I could eventually become a
good Buddhist. In the end, he was even enthused about documenting
their practices and beliefs and was annoyed with the bongthing for having
forgotten the wording of certain rituals that his father Ajo Bongthing
had taught him. And, as we will see later in this chapter, surprisingly,
the real and final confrontation was not with the bon specialists but with
the village lamas, who officially expelled him from the village’s lama
community shortly after I left the village.
At the beginning of fieldwork, following the monsoon of 1994,
Lopen Dugyal’s newly found ritual powers were first challenged by the
bon ritual specialists. In the first instance, his niece was suffering from
a toothache. As he blew his mantras on her cheek to relieve the pain,
she fell over unconscious on the floor. The girl’s uncle immediately
ran to fetch the pawo, who was taken possession of by the Northern
King, who, talking through the pawo, declared himself responsible for
the toothache and, addressing Lopen Dugyal directly, insulted him for
blowing on him in such a way. In the second instance, Lopen Dugyal’s
sister-in-law was having very painful contractions. Again Lopen Dugyal
blew his mantras on her without any beneficial results, after which she
was taken to hospital for a caesarean and the baby died three days
later. Again the pawo was consulted, and the latsen, taking possession
of him, complained of having been blown on and maintained that,
 conventional buddhism and village religion 345

although Lopen Dugyal could sometimes be powerful, he—the lat-

sen—remained more powerful than him. A few weeks later, the pawo’s
annual retreat or tsamche took place and, as we will see below, Lopen
Dugyal was this time openly challenged by the spirit of Droko Pawo,
his maternal great grandfather, who took possession of the present
pawo. Droko Pawo warned him that he should be more cautious when
using Buddhist methods in dealing with illness caused by the nöpa since
Lopen Dugyal himself had confessed in front of the audience that he
was not sufficiently powerful to subjugate them under the principles of
Buddhism. On the last day of the retreat, the spirit of Droko Pawo
managed to impress Lopen Dugyal sufficiently and restore in him a
certain respect for bon and the pawo’s practice, so that from then on,
and until the end of fieldwork, relations with the bon ritual specialists
remained cordial, both the pawo and the bongthing always being most
helpful with our questions. I was even surprised to hear Lopen Dugyal
object to the comments made on Gangtok Radio one day wherein the
commentator opined that bon practices relating to the curing of illness
in Lhopo villages should be abandoned.

2. The PAWO’s annual retreat

The pawo’s annual retreat or tsamche is the only household ritual per-
formed for the benefit of a number of households belonging to the
same patrilineage within Tingchim village. In the past, each lineage
had a personal pawo or nejum in whose house all lineage members from
Tingchim would gather once a year for a four-day retreat in honour of
their ancestors and lineage protectors. Until 1997, the retreat was still
occasionally held by Pawo Nadu and his mother the nejum along with
the other members of the Gyamtso Chumo lineage. Since the other
lineages in the village no longer had a personal pawo to perform the
ritual for them, a number of villagers attended the Gyamtso Chumo’s
retreat held during my stay in Tingchim, making it more a village event
than a lineage gathering.
During the tsamche, lineage members are made to interact with their
ancestors and lineage protectors through the medium of possession.
Villagers receive advice and predictions from their ancestors and are
given a platform where they can argue matters of discord among
themselves indirectly through the voices of their own forefathers.
During the ritual, the pawo sets the stage where elements of lineage
346 chapter eleven

history and bon cosmology are brought together in order to create the
backdrop against which this interaction takes place. The structure of
the ritual and the composition of the altar and its offerings are based
on two oral texts, The Bon Confession from China (rGya nag bshags bon)
and The Bon [Story] of the Deer with the Eight-Branched Antlers (Bon shwa
ba’i rwa brgyad ).
When I arrived in Tingchim, no tsamche had been held for over six
or seven years.1 Villagers told me that they had repeatedly asked Pawo
Nadu to hold the retreat and that they would have helped him with the
expenses, but despite their insistence and generosity, for a number of
reasons, no tsamche had been held. The diminishing interest in holding
a lineage ritual is indicative of the declining importance of the lineage
vis-à-vis the household, and more recently, the nuclear family. During
the tsamche, it became evident that the decline of bon in favour of vil-
lage Buddhism was an important reason behind its non-performance
and, as we will see, the tsamche provided an interesting platform for this
issue to be debated in the open.
The morning and afternoon of the first day were spent in prepa-
rations. Discussions went on about the shape and significance of the
torma placed on the top shelf above the lower torma representing the
pho lha mo lha of the Gyamtso Chumo. These five unusual and larger
torma were the subject of discussions, and their proper shape and sig-
nificance were only revealed later on during the retreat by the deities
themselves, providing a good example of the imparting of instruction
directly from the supernatural. The largest one represented the palace
of Yum Machen Düsum Sangay,2 two others in the shape of birds
represented the two carpenters who had built her palace as recounted
in The Bon Confession from China (rGya nag bshags bon), and the last two
were containers made of rice dough filled with little pellets of cooked
rice, which were to be distributed to the audience on the last day of

1
My own declared interest in the pawo’s rituals and offer to sponsor the tsamche,
combined with the support of my teacher Lopen Dugyal and my friend Rabden in
organising its logistics, made it possible for the pawo to accept my request to hold the
retreat once again. The tsamche is normally held in the pawo’s house from the twelfth
to the fifteenth of the ninth month of the Tibetan lunar calendar, ending on the day
of the full moon. Because of anticipated disturbances due to state elections, the tsamche
was eventually held a few days earlier, from the seventh to the eleventh of the ninth
month (9–12 November, 1994).
2
Yum Machen Düsum Sangay from Yarlung is the head of all mo lha and the
daughter of Shenrab.
 conventional buddhism and village religion 347

the retreat as a blessing from Yeshe Gonpo as he took possession of the

pawo. Yum Machen Düsum Sangay’s palace was the most important
torma of the altar, and the largest offering made during the retreat—an
ox hind leg—was to be dedicated to her on the third day.
The four days of the retreat can be divided in three parts. During
the first two days, trance sessions took place quite freely without fol-
lowing a rigid ritual procedure. The pawo was possessed by various
pho lha mo lha, who, after introducing themselves, either left and were
followed by another ancestral god, or interacted with one or a number
of people in the audience. When the ancestors and lineage protectors
introduced themselves in this way, the lineage’s past suddenly came alive.
Usually, when addressing members of the audience, the pho lha mo lha,
after saying who they were and where they came from (the location
of their abode), would reveal to the person addressed whether there
were any obstacles lying ahead and might diagnose the cause of an
illness. When not engaged in this type of dialogue, the pho lha mo lha
were engaged, more often than not, in a debate on the merits of bon
versus the failings of Buddhism. The main target of this interaction
was Lopen Dugyal, who, having recently completed his high Buddhist
education in Gangtok and returned to the village, was still exploring or
in the process of finding his ritual role or status within the community.
More importantly, this debate was a public expression of an underlying
tension stemming from the old conflict between conventional Buddhism
and village religion, which had now been re-triggered and emerged
on the village’s ritual platform following Lopen Dugyal’s return to the
village after graduation. The debate was to become a significant and
recurring topic, generating much interest among the retreat’s audience,
with various arguments expressed by different pho lha while possessing the
pawo, all defending the merits and indispensability of bon in their own
way. I will elaborate on the specific arguments and their significance
as they were put forward during the retreat. Another tsamche topic was
the public denunciation of those who had been involved in prohibited
hunting or fishing activities. The first two days were more like a debat-
ing arena, where issues of concern to the community were brought
out in the open by the supernatural beings for all to consider or take
action on. Even a revelation of the cause of someone’s illness usually
has some social relevance, and its proper diagnosis by a pho lha often
includes a message for the rest of the kin group or the community as
a whole. Thus, the first two days of the retreat, which I call ‘finding
the “demon” ’, were more a case of the community talking to itself by
348 chapter eleven

Plate 37: Pawo Nadu wears the ri-nga, the Buddhist headdress, for the opening
séance of the retreat. It is later replaced by his bätö woollen crown

providing an acceptable arena for matters of discord to be identified

and made public by the pho lha mo lha so that they could be expelled
during a ritual held on the third day. Order was then re-established on
the fourth and last day, when Yeshe Gonpo, the head of all pho lha mo
lha, returned to bless the audience and a communal meal was offered
to villagers.

2.1. Day one and two: finding the ‘demon’

All bon rituals, whether they consist of a short offering ritual performed
by the bongthing or a lengthy séance of possession by the pawo, follow the
same four-part structure of the khelen ritual text (see chapter 6). Pawo
 conventional buddhism and village religion 349

Nadu and the bongthing officiated together and, standing next to each
other while facing the altar, started by chanting the song bon purification,
and went on with the denju invitation, the bongthing holding a dadar (mda’
dar—‘arrow-flag’) while the pawo was beating his small drum and bell.
No deity took possession of the pawo, but the bongthing then realised
that they had forgotten to open the bon gates of the four cardinal direc-
tions, which is why no pho lha mo lha, although invited, had yet arrived
at the retreat. They resumed the chanting, and while still facing the
altar, Pawo Nadu’s voice became jerky and his body slowly began to
shake, which was the indication that a deity was about to take posses-
sion of him. Suddenly the chanting stopped abruptly, the rhythm of
the drum and bell accelerated violently and, now fully possessed, Pawo
Nadu turned towards the audience and danced around the room. He
stopped in front of the nejum, and Yeshe Gonpo—the pawo’s tutelary
deity and head of all pho lha mo lha, and by whom he was possessed at
that point—introduced himself, addressing the nejum and the helping
lama, who then pointed to me as the correct sponsor. Once Yeshe Gonpo
completed his address, the pawo’s dancing and drumming resumed just
as abruptly as they had stopped and the possessed pawo then returned
to the altar, where the change of possessing deity occurs while he faces
the altar with his back to the audience. As the pawo turned around to
face the audience again, he was now possessed by the next pho lha,
the mountain and warrior god Masang Khyungdü, who, as the pawo’s
dancing and drumming suddenly stopped, addressed the helping lama
and Lopen Dugyal, asking whether they were effectively preparing
for the retreat. Masang was followed in the same way, when the pawo
returned to face the altar, by a mo lha who, addressing the nejum, made
a prediction regarding her prolonged illness. Then came Droko Pawo,
the great grandfather of both Lopen Dugyal and Pawo Nadu, who,
always in the same way, addressed the audience while possessing the
pawo by pointing out to the helping lama some errors in the torma.
He also asked whether the sponsor of the retreat was from Tibet or a
foreign country, to which Lopen Dugyal replied simply, without giving
any reason, that I was from a foreign land.
Through the medium of the pawo, Droko Pawo then launched into
a discourse aimed at Lopen Dugyal about the virtues of bon versus the
failings of Buddhism. This was the first episode of the debate, which
was to unfold during the retreat, between Droko Pawo and the other
pho lha, on the one hand, and Lopen Dugyal, on the other. Droko Pawo
is the most respected bon specialist still remembered in Tingchim today,
350 chapter eleven

and Lopen Dugyal is probably the most educated Buddhist lama, in

terms of scholarly achievements, Tingchim has ever had. Droko Pawo
started by addressing Lopen Dugyal as a great lama and went on to ask
the fundamental question, from the villagers’ point of view, whether he
could subdue the malevolent nöpa of Sikkim, to which Lopen Dugyal
answered that he could not. Droko Pawo warned Lopen Dugyal that he
should then be more cautious and avoid provoking these supernatural
beings when performing any type of ritual curing involving Buddhist
methods. Particularly, he should avoid meditating on Buddhist principles
when invoking the powers of mantras since the nöpa, believed to be the
cause of a number of diseases, have a great dislike for the Buddhist
doctrine. Lopen Dugyal’s pride and confidence in Buddhist knowledge
and power would inevitably irritate the nöpa, something which could
have serious consequences for him.
On the one hand, Lopen Dugyal thought this was good advice from
Droko Pawo, but on the other, felt a great conflict within himself, since
accepting Droko Pawo’s guidance would go against the basic principles
of his high Buddhist education. As a well educated lama, he realised
that he should not question the potential results of his own Buddhist
practice and should have answered that if the nöpa disliked conventional
Buddhism, it was simply because they were afraid of its powers. But
this he could only whisper in my ear. Lopen Dugyal’s inner conflict
stemmed from the fact that he had himself been a village lama until
the age of thirty-two, participating indiscriminately in all bon and Bud-
dhist household rituals, and that his high Buddhist education had not
succeeded completely in eradicating the shamanic worldview which
he shared with his kin and neighbours. This was the first time since
completing his education that he had attended such an elaborate bon
ritual and the first time that he had been publicly challenged by the bon
specialists. Lopen Dugyal’s public confession of being unable to control
the nöpa confirmed that the villagers still required the help of bon and
village Buddhism to protect themselves against the evils of this world.
Lopen Dugyal regretted having put himself in this situation by consent-
ing to work with me, especially in so far as his presence at the retreat
could be misinterpreted as a submission to bon, as well as a violation
of his personal Buddhist vows to take refuge in Buddha, Dharma and
Sangha. But when questioned further about this later on, he said that
he would have attended even if I hadn’t been present.
The first trance session, which lasted forty minutes, came to an
end, allowing the pawo to take a short break before resuming with the
 conventional buddhism and village religion 351

chanting of the invocation. As the trance ends, the pawo always takes
off his headdress, as no supernatural being can take possession of him
unless he is wearing it. On the first evening of the retreat, which was
considered an opening séance, the pawo wore the ri-nga, the Buddhist
headdress, which was replaced by his normal bätö woollen crown on
the following day. In the second session, which lasted only ten minutes,
possession came much faster and Shenrab3 was the first to make a brief
appearance, after less than a minute of chanting, merely introducing
himself to the audience. Shenrab was followed in the same way by Tser-
ing Lhundrum, the sub-lineage founder of the Gyamtso Chumo, and
his Tibetan wife Pomo Changla Chenmo. Then came Latsen Anden,4
who addressed the head lama-teacher and Lopen Dugyal, telling them
to avoid contact with pollution- or drib-generating people or circum-
stances such as women in labour, or being in close proximity to their
Nepalese neighbours because of the tobacco they smoke.5
The third session started with the chanting of the tsibul offering, when
the edible tsog items displayed for the pho lha mo lha are presented to
them. After five minutes, the mountain god Dzönga took possession of
the pawo and introduced himself by saying simply that he had come
from Beyul Demojong, the hidden valley of Sikkim. Dzönga was fol-
lowed by Ajo Dongbong, the Lepcha ancestor worshipped by all Lhopos
in Sikkim, who indirectly resumed the debate that had been initiated
by Droko Pawo about the merits of bon versus the failings of Bud-
dhism. He started by telling the nejum that the reason she was ill was
because, like all other villagers, she had stopped giving him his regular
pig sacrifice, which he was now craving for. He then turned to Lopen
Dugyal and insulted him by saying that his diagnoses and predictions
(mo) were useless. On the other hand, if Lopen Dugyal would accept
his guidance, Ajo Dongbong would teach him how to perform accurate
diagnoses and predictions and would also instruct him in how to con-
trol the nöpa of Sikkim, to all of which Lopen Dugyal simply replied
that he was not interested. Ajo Dongbong was followed by Dzönga’s
shepherd boy and Malag Ajo Pawo—the present pawo’s father—who
ended the séance by expressing his great pleasure at seeing the retreat
being performed once again.

3
Shenrab, the founder of Bon.
4
Latsen Anden, the tsen of the Anden mountain pass, is a female latsen protector
of Malag Ajo Pawo.
5
Smoking among Lhopos and Lepchas is rare, as tobacco is described as an evil
weed in their Buddhist scriptures.
352 chapter eleven

Plate 38: Pawo Nadu wearing the bätö woollen crown

By now, Lopen Dugyal had been publicly discredited on the two most
important functions of a village ritual specialist, namely the diagnosis
of disease, which is done by divination in order to establish the identity
and motivation of the responsible nöpa, and his capacity to control these
beings so that they might leave human beings in peace.
After a half-hour break, the chanting of the tsibul offering was resumed
with the fourth and last séance of the evening. A few pho lha introduced
themselves briefly, after which the spirit of Mongshe Pawo6 concluded

6
Mongshe Pawo was a pawo from the Dojöpo lineage, the same lineage as Lopen
Dugyal.
 conventional buddhism and village religion 353

the evening by making ironic remarks at the expense of the lamas. He

told Lopen Dugyal, who happened to be one of his descendants, that
he should not put on pretences, that in fact he knew and practised
‘low religion’ just as well as he knew ‘high religion’, to which everyone
laughed since Lopen Dugyal is reputed for defending the purity of
his practice. Mongshe Pawo then turned to the head lama-teacher
and, in the same tone, told him that, as the second most senior lama
of the village, he should not assume such a low position by attending
the pawo’s tsamche —which was just an indirect way of pointing out to
the audience that even the village’s Buddhist teacher was still to some
degree under the influence of bon.
The next morning, Pawo Nadu was exceptionally favourable towards
and co-operative with my research and for the first time offered to
recount what he remembered of the two bon texts on which important
episodes of the retreat are based. Knowledge of these texts, along with
the method of preparing the torma of the ritual, is the core of the bon
specialists’ religious knowledge, which the student is required to learn
by heart, repeating the chanting after his teacher.7 Unfortunately, no
ritual specialist in Tingchim can still remember them today, nor were
they ever properly written down. Ajo Bongthing, who passed away in
1985, was the last to be proficient in their chanting, which was done
over a period of two to three days. The first text, The Bon Confession
from China (rGya nag bshags bon), is the story of the daughter of Shenrab,
Yum Machen Düsum Sangay, and how she gained China’s allegiance,
followed by an explanation of the symbolism of her ritual artefacts.
The text narrates how her new Chinese disciples, as an expression
of their devotion, went about making the nejum’s palace, drum, bell,
hat and dress according to her specifications. The second text, The
Bon [Story] of the Deer with the Eight-Branched Antlers (Bon shwa ba’i rwa
brgyad ), narrates how Yum Machen Düsum Sangay received the bless-
ings and powers of all the deities of Tibet and beyond by performing
the elaborate sacrificial offering of a mythical animal which was the
personification of all evil.8 The pawo narrated what he remembered

7
Diemberger has also observed among the Khumbo of east Nepal that “the knowl-
edge of the lhaven is based on a set of orally transmitted prayers and on the skill of
forming every specific torma” (1992: 423).
8
In the first bon text, the Yarlung king offered his whole kingdom to Yum Machen
Düsum Sangay after having recognised her as a god, in the hope that she would subdue
the malevolent forces ravaging his kingdom and threatening to kill him. She indeed
identified the source of all of the king’s problems in a dü who had taken the form of
354 chapter eleven

of the texts, leaving out what he considered secret knowledge, such as

what he calls the definition of ‘wind’. The chanting of the second text
is used to induce trance, and the understanding of the definition of
‘wind’ confers the ability to ‘travel on wind’. Until recently, ‘wind’ was
the medium used by the Sikkimese shamans to embark on their ritual
journeys to the bon paradises where the ancestors are said to reside
and to the abode of the deities of Sikkim in order to consult them on
matters of divination and ritual healing. The shamans I worked with
no longer shared this ability.
The second day of the tsamche was rather calm and uneventful in
comparison with what was to follow on the third and fourth days.
A dozen pho lha and nöpa took possession and offered comments and
diagnoses. Among these were Droko Pawo, who, addressing Lopen
Dugyal, said that he would have liked to be able to bow and show him
respect since pawo, generally, have a lower status than lamas. But in his
case, he said, it would be improper for him to do so, the reason being

a young man, the son of a blacksmith and apparent loyal subject of the king. Later,
in the second bon text, which is a continuation of the first, she meets an animal with
the head of a pig, the body of a wild ass and the voice of a goat. Her deities tell her
that this is a bad omen and instruct her on how to catch, kill and sacrifice this inaus-
picious creature. It is interesting to note how bon cosmology or the configuration and
limits of the world are revealed through the following ritual killing and summoning of
the deities. While she chants, the head of the animal is cut off and presented in the
direction of Tibet. All worldly deities of Tibet (bod lha rnams dgu mo) are by this action
summoned and offered sang or fumigation. Similarly, the tail is then presented in the
direction of India, and Gyakar Ama, an Indian mo lha, arrives and is offered sang. The
four legs are offered to the four cardinal directions, and all the worldly deities of these
directions are summoned and offered sang. The sixteen ribs are shown to the sky, and
all the deities living in space are compelled to come to where sang is being offered.
The liver is shown to the crevasses of the land, and Rahula, the chief of all planetary
gods, arrives. The lungs are shown to the mountains, and those who live on them
are called. The blood is shown to the river, and those living in water also come. The
kidney is thrown as far as possible, and those deities who live far away are called.
The intestines are presented to the paths, and those living on the pathways also come.
The waste is shown to the earth, and those living under the ground are called. Yum
Machen Düsum Sangay is then blessed with the powers of all these deities. She collects
the parts of the animal and buries them under the ground. Over them, she builds a
black stūpa on the top of which she places a double vajra, which means that evil has
been conquered. This strange creature which she thus sacrificed was an incarnation
of the dü who had been plaguing the kingdom of the Yarlung king.
Diemberger mentions that among the Khumbo a sacrifice is sometimes performed
wherein the various parts of a cock are considered analogous and offered to the vari-
ous directions of the universe, which, as she points out, “recalls the ancient theme of
creative dismemberment of an animal or a demon embodying the land as cosmogoni-
cal act” (1997: 265).
 conventional buddhism and village religion 355

that he had gained access to the bon paradise of Rigdzin Ne, which is
a very difficult thing to accomplish, and for this reason his status was
now higher than Lopen Dugyal’s. In order to gain support from the
villagers, who were increasingly perplexed over the question of animal
sacrifice, he added that it was impossible to reach this paradise if one
had performed too many blood offerings. He then restated that Lopen
Dugyal had to stop healing by the use of Buddhist mantras since the
nöpa would inevitably unleash their anger if he persisted in provoking
them. Healing by mantras is the first simple step a lama in Tingchim
takes when approached by an ailing person, sometimes even before
the patient consults a bon specialist. Preventing such a consultation
from taking place by exposing its dangers would naturally help ensure
the patient’s continued dependency on and confidence in bon healing
methods.

2.2. Day three: expelling the ‘demon’

The next morning, Lopen Dugyal went early to prepare the black dö
that would be required in the evening for an exorcistic ritual involving
different levels of scapegoats. Pawo Nadu started the denju invitation
late in the morning and continued with the tsibul offering after lunch,
when a few possessing pho lha succeeded each other rapidly. Among
these, Dzönga addressed Lopen Dugyal and myself, telling us that we
shouldn’t lose faith in him and reject these trance sessions as phoney
or as, at best, a lower form of ritual. Then came Ajo Dongbong, who,
talking to the bongthing and Lopen Dugyal, boasted how powerful he
was, repeating that Lopen Dugyal’s rituals would not succeed relying
solely on his Buddhist texts and that he (Ajo Dongbong) would be
happy to help him.
When we returned after an early dinner, the hind leg of an ox having
been placed in front of the altar, the pawo started with the denju invita-
tion. The leg was being offered to Yum Machen Düsum Sangay, the
omniscient mo lha and daughter of Shenrab, who then took possession
of the pawo. The offering was a re-enactment of a section of the first
bon text, where the Yarlung king (rGyal po gdung rgyal btsan po) finally
realises that Yum Machen Düsum Sangay is not a beggar but a god
who has been blessed with the powers of all the deities of Tibet and
beyond. As atonement for his mistake and as an expression of his faith
and devotion, he now offers her his wealth and kingdom, at the same
time summoning her help by presenting a portion of his wealth at her
356 chapter eleven

Plate 39: Tingchim Pawo Nadu and the details of the tsamche retreat altar
 conventional buddhism and village religion 357

The altar of Tingchim pawo’s annual retreat9 (mtshams bcad ):

Top shelf:
1. Palace of Yum Machen Düsum Sangay
2. The two carpenters who build her palace represented in the shape of
birds
3. Two containers made of rice dough filled with pellets of cooked rice
to be distributed to the audience on the last day of the retreat during
the purification and empowering blessing by Yeshe Gonpo

Lower shelf:
1. Yeshe Gonpo (chief of all pho lha mo lha)
2. Guru Rinpoche (Padmasambhava)
3. Bon Tenpa Yab Yum (Shenrab)
4. Masang Khungdü (mountain deity)
5. Bolha Gomchen Chenpo (land deity)
6. Ha Lung Yang Lung Gyupa Tsen Sum (tsen from Ha)
7. Jowo Gyamnag (apical ancestor from Ha)
8. Jowo Gyamnag’s sons (ancestors)
9–12. Unspecified degye meant to include all of them
13. Shari Gomchen (ancestor from Ha)
14. Shargy Jomi Khandro (ancestor from Ha)
15. Rongjong Dütsen Lusum (village gatekeeper)
16. Kangchendzönga (mountain deity)
17. Unspecified mo lha (ancestors)
18. Tsen Bara Pün Dün (village gatekeeper)
19. Unspecified mo lha (ancestors)
20. Chusang Sangmo (powerful nejum)
21. Khandeji De-nga (mKha’ sde bzhi sde lnga)
22. Unspecified mo lha (ancestors)
23. Unspecified mo lha (ancestors)
24. Ajo Dongbong (Lepcha bongthing)
25. Ajo Chodrimpo (ancestor from Paro)
26. Paro Ajo (monk from the Taktsang hermitage in Paro)
27. Group of unspecified previous pawo of the lineage (ancestors)
28. Group of unspecified male ancestors (ancestors)

9
See chapter 3 for the identity of these pho lha mo lha.
358 chapter eleven

feet at each step that she takes in his direction. The ox leg offered to
her during the ritual represents the bull decorated with flowers which
was presented to her by the king and is an expression of the bon ritual
specialist’s devotion and acknowledgement of her powers.
By this time, Lopen Dugyal was highly annoyed by the unfolding
of events. He objected that only a few words of The Bon Confession from
China (rGya nag bshags bon) had been chanted before the trances began,
that Pawo Nadu and the bongthing were drinking too much, and that the
important Gyamtso Chumo lineage members were not present because
a political meeting had been held that afternoon in Mangan. But, on
the other hand, he was pleased as all of this meant—for him—that
bon was definitely dying out and that Buddhism would finally flourish.
He added that the only benefit of putting up with all this was that he
had gained a better understanding of his own heritage whether he
agreed with it or not.
Finally, the helping lama—a senior member of the Gyamtso Chumo
lineage—returned from Mangan and the main ritual of the evening,
based on an episode from the second bon text, could start. This ritual
is called dü lü (bdud glud ), which can be translated as ‘the malevolent
being’s scapegoat ritual’. A dö made of black string is offered along with
a black chick to Jowo Ram Chupo ( Jo bo ram cu’u po), a benevolent
tsen living above the village who, for the purpose of the ritual, had
agreed to play the part of the malevolent dü in this episode of the bon
text.10 Dö or thread-crosses can be used for different ritual purposes,
and in this context it was not a contraption for catching a demon,
but represented a palace which would be offered to the dü in order to
please him in exchange for counteracting negative influences which
could endanger the lineage. Effigies of the dü and his retinue made of
black millet dough were placed inside the dö string palace, which was
kept to one side until the right time came to carry it outside.
The scapegoat ritual started with a game of dice to be played
between benevolent and malign forces. One side, playing with black
dice, represented the dü, or inauspicious animal of the second bon text,
as well as the malevolent forces that the dü would later be required
to counter once he had been defeated by the gods. Interestingly, this
role was filled by the helping lama, the Gyamtso Chumo lama, who
dressed himself up with a turban, a trident and a bow and arrow. The

10
For the real identity of the dü, see footnote 8 above.
 conventional buddhism and village religion 359

good player, playing with white dice, represented a lha or Yum Machen
Düsum Sangay. The game was played until the dü was beaten by the
lha, which meant that, as in the text, the god had been victorious and
all the malign forces had been conquered. In this case, it meant that
the malevolent forces threatening the Gyamtso Chumo lineage had
been symbolically defeated in the dual.
At this point, the benevolent local tsen, who had volunteered to be
the scapegoat and act as the dü from the second bon text for the pur-
pose of the ritual, took possession of the pawo and was offered his dö
palace along with a live black chick, which were both taken outside.
The black chick was simply offered in order to thank the tsen for hav-
ing agreed to take on this role. On the other hand, by accepting and
taking a seat in the dö palace, which was taken out of the house, the
‘dü’, who had been vanquished in the dual by the lha, was now coaxed
into working for the benefit of the lineage. His role is thus reversed and
he is sent away with the duty henceforth to protect the lineage against
the same malevolent forces that he would have encouraged before his
defeat. The dö palace will be re-offered to him every year since, like
humans, he is likely to lapse in his duties, of which he will thus have
to be reminded regularly. This of course provides an opportunity for
the lineage to exorcise its own ‘evils’ in order to start the approaching
New Year in a positive way.
Shortly after the dü had been defeated and his role reversed, Lopen
Dugyal went through an unexpected metamorphosis of his own. Before
that, a few more beings had taken possession of the pawo, who had then
gone on with the shegsö farewell. Then came Ajo Dongbong, followed by
Masang and Droko Pawo, who spoke to Lopen Dugyal at length. Droko
Pawo told him that he knew both aspects, bon as well as Buddhism, and
that there were no reasons why Lopen Dugyal should not believe in or
be afraid of bon. Lopen Dugyal had been quite disenchanted with the
evening and had for the first time had doubts about the veracity of
the trances, as they had started in an unusually abrupt way and Pawo
Nadu had hardly chanted any words of the second bon text. He had kept
these thoughts to himself and now felt that Droko Pawo was reading
his mind when he was told that he should not doubt the authenticity
of the trances, that it was really him, Droko Pawo, his maternal great
grandfather, who was talking to him and that Pawo Nadu had not done
anything wrong. The day ended on that note, and by this time Lopen
Dugyal was highly excited. His doubts had been temporarily dissipated
and the bon specialists had finally scored, and like the dü, Lopen Dugyal
360 chapter eleven

had undergone a role reversal. As we walked home in the dark along

the muddy village paths, I felt something had finally been reconciled,
as Lopen Dugyal kept raving about what had happened.
We all gathered at seven the next morning for the last day of the
tsamche. All morning, a stream of villagers kept coming in and out of
the pawo’s house in order to offer him bags of fermented millet along
with ten, twenty or thirty rupees. Most stayed for some time, taking a
seat on the floor. The trances resumed, and the gatekeeper of the village
distributed blessed rice for protection, after which, while still possessing
the pawo, he led the latter outside to uproot the small boundary-tree or
tsam shing (mtshams shing) in front of the pawo’s house, which had marked
the retreat’s boundary.11 Pawo Nadu, still possessed by the gatekeeper
of the village, came back in and went around blessing everyone with
the ritual arrow. The spirit of Droko Pawo followed, going around
offering predictions and diagnoses to many, including the nejum in the
other room.
The next and last séance of the retreat was to be the purification
and empowering blessing (khrus zhu dbang zhu) by Yeshe Gonpo, who
purifies water and distributes rice pellets to the audience. As he took
possession of the pawo, Yeshe Gonpo addressed the bongthing, saying
that he refused to dispense the blessings personally because the bongthing
had rushed the morning session and for this reason, he (Yeshe Gonpo)
had not been able to address the audience earlier that morning. He
was followed by Yum Machen Düsum Sangay and Droko Pawo, who,
addressing Lopen Dugyal, mentioned that the order in which the bon
texts had been given to us was wrong but that the texts themselves
were correct. The spirit of Droko Pawo added that, throughout the
retreat, Pawo Nadu had taken pity on Lopen Dugyal because of his
ignorance of bon and, similarly, Lopen Dugyal had taken pity on the
pawo because of his ignorance of Buddhism. He concluded by say-
ing that they were both the same, meaning that their actions proved
that neither was wiser than the other. Then, very surprisingly, while
still possessing the pawo, Droko Pawo gave the purified water and rice
pellets to Lopen Dugyal for him to distribute to the audience in place
of Yeshe Gonpo, who would normally have done so while possessing
the pawo. By this gesture, Droko Pawo was publicly stating that Lopen

11
The pawo is not supposed to venture beyond the boundary-tree for the duration
of the retreat.
 conventional buddhism and village religion 361

Dugyal had finally, to some extent, come over to his side since he was
now himself giving the blessings which would normally have been
dispensed by a bon ritual specialist.
This last séance was followed by a communal lunch to which a member
of each household was invited. The bongthing completed the last tsibul
offering and shegsö farewell on his own, followed by an elaborate series
of offerings and counter-offerings of silk scarves, money and bottles of
whisky between the main participants and myself as the sponsor. The
head lama-teacher concluded by telling the history of the Gyamtso
Chumo and other lineages descended from Jowo Gyamnag, the apical
ancestor of the Dojö Tsaosum lineages (see chapter 2).
The second oral bon text on which part of the retreat’s ritual is based,
The Bon [Story] of the Deer with the Eight-Branched Antlers (Bon shwa ba’i rwa
brgyad ), according to Samten Karmay, corresponds to a written ritual
text known as Bon shwa ba ru rgyas.12 In an introduction to this text,
A.-M. Blondeau and S. Karmay (1988) have noted that it is a Bonpo
ritual belonging to a category of ‘popular’ rituals which is thought to
date from the eighth century. Although its description, based on recol-
lection, does not correspond to the Tingchim’s pawo’s performance,
both rituals nevertheless share fundamental elements. Both are dö ritu-
als involving the offering of a bird or birds that are never to be killed,
particularly a black bird for a dü. Another interesting element associated
with the deer in other bon texts is that of the deer’s flight. According
to the same article, some bon texts have titles referring to flying deer,
which of course, reminds us of the previous Tingchim pawo’s recitation
of the Bon shwa ba’i rwa brgyad to induce trance and thus ‘fly’ or travel
‘on wind’ to the deities’ abode. Despite the lack of exact similarity
between the unfolding of both rituals, the elements they do share are
sufficient to suggest that Tingchim’s bon oral ritual tradition is perhaps
very ancient and survived on the fringes of the Tibetan cultural area,
where it escaped the full impact of later Buddhist reforms in central
Tibet. They also imply that some Sikkimese Lhopos may belong to
ancient populations that have been settled on these southern border
areas since times long predating the founding of the Sikkimese Bud-
dhist kingdom in the seventeenth century.

12
The text is published in a collection of ritual texts by Khedup Gyatso in Dolanji,
Himachal Pradesh, 1973, under the title gTo phran, No. 20.
As previously mentioned, the title of the Sikkimese version of this oral text was
translated to me as brgyad (eight) but this may be a mis-rendering of rgyas (spreading).
362 chapter eleven

Returning to the unfolding of the retreat, the main recurring con-

cern for the pho lha mo lha during the tsamche was the defence of bon in
the face of a renewal of conventional Buddhist influence triggered by
Lopen Dugyal’s return to the village. But this is somewhat puzzling,
as villagers, including the pawo and the bongthing, are Buddhists and
have great devotion and respect for Rinpoches and Buddhist deities.
Further, villagers will regularly consult the village lamas, often at the
recommendation of the pawo and bongthing, without this representing any
kind of threat to the bon ritual specialists’ practices and beliefs. Thus it
seems that, throughout the tsamche, Lopen Dugyal, as a representative of
conventional Buddhism, had been used as a scapegoat for a particular
aspect of Buddhism which was perceived by the bon specialists and the
pho lha mo lha as a menacing force. It seems that what the pho lha were
trying to expel through the medium of the pawo was not Buddhism but
the threat that dogmatic aspects of conventional Buddhism represent
to the practice of village religion and its shamanic worldview, which is
shared by the community as a whole, including the village lamas, and
which is so fundamental to their understanding of the world they live
in. It is as if the pho lha mo lha were trying to say during the tsamche
that when the practice of village religion is lost—or, in other words,
when the group loses its symbolic focus—it will cease to exist in its
present form. The dialogues between the spirits of previous bon ritual
specialists and villagers during the tsamche appeared to be an attempt
at self-preservation, which Pawo Nadu conveniently expressed through
the voices of everyone’s ancestors.

3. Lopen Dugyal and the village lamas

As Lopen Dugyal’s relations with the bon specialists continued to improve

until the end of fieldwork, his relations with the village lamas slowly
deteriorated, particularly with his lama contemporaries who had not
studied outside the village. From the moment of his return to Tingchim,
Lopen Dugyal was regularly solicited to perform household rituals,
which he happily accepted, not only for the income this provided but
also for the pleasure of putting his newly acquired Buddhist knowledge
to the service of the village. Shortly after he returned, in the spring of
1994, still awaiting his exam results, I remember Lopen Dugyal being
particularly pleased and even surprised at having for the first time suc-
cessfully performed a difficult death ritual. An old man had passed away
 conventional buddhism and village religion 363

and Lopen Dugyal had performed his powa ritual, meant to guide the
consciousness out of the body towards enlightenment so that it may
avoid rebirth in sa sāra. His excitement was not unlike that of a student
who discovers that what he has learnt may have some application in
the real world and be beneficial to others. What was of greater concern
was that usually this ritual is performed either by Tsam Khang Ajo, the
village’s most senior lama, or the head lama-teacher, both of whom
had for some reason been unable to attend. Although Lopen Dugyal
had their blessing to perform the powa, young village lamas like Lopen
Dugyal, still at the bottom of the village lamas’ hierarchy, normally did
not perform such important and delicate rituals. I do not know what
the other village lamas thought of this, but I can only imagine that it
was not a good start to the renewal of their relations.
While Lopen Dugyal did not seem to object to the practice of bon
as long as it did not involve the sacrificial offerings of animals, he
could not come to terms with certain aspects of village Buddhism. He
considered bon to be a unique ritual tradition handed down from his
forefathers that, if only for this reason, deserved some kind of respect.
Village Buddhism however, in the eyes of Lopen Dugyal, was a cor-
rupted form of Buddhism which could only gain from some kind of
purification. He was particularly opposed to certain village lamas who,
it was thought, lowered their practice to worldly levels by entering into
bargain contracts with the local nöpa. According to Lopen Dugyal, a
few village lamas, in order to gain ritual powers, were entering into
secret alliances with powerful nöpa instead of obtaining such powers
from the Buddhist yidam, the power-dispensing tantric deities, through
tantric practice and meditation. Village lamas of course disputed such
accusations. On this subject, Lopen Dugyal seemed to be in accord with
the village’s two most senior lamas, the head lama-teacher and Tsam
Khang Ajo, whose Tibetan forefather had not even adopted ancestral
gods after his settlement in Tingchim. All three conventional Bud-
dhist-minded lamas were in agreement with the Phodong monastery’s
abbot, who went so far as to tell his students not to recite the khelen
during village ritual performances of the Nesol, as honouring worldly
deities meant ‘coming under their feet’ and thus lowering Buddhism
to their level. Lamas who engaged in such ritual practice were thought
to be joining the path of the nagshang, a path which does not lead to
enlightenment but to the bon paradises, which are considered by the
lamas to be only a stage of the bardo.
364 chapter eleven

Soon, Lopen Dugyal realised that when villagers asked him to per-
form a household ritual shapten, they were only seeking to pacify the
troublesome worldly beings responsible for obstacles and illness. This
invariably meant performing offerings to these worldly nöpa, in the form
of either dö, Nesol or Kongso. Lopen Dugyal felt that villagers were not
interested in the real purpose of these rituals, which was to remind the
nöpa of their submission vows to Guru Rinpoche and return them to
the right path of the Dharma. If this is all that was expected of him,
he felt that his ritual role as a village lama was no different than that
of the bongthing, and there was no need for him to perform domestic
rituals any longer. With this in mind, he suddenly declared one day
that as soon as he got married he would no longer perform household
rituals in the village. This decision had the double benefit of not having
to worship worldly nöpa at the request of villagers, and not having to
prove his ritual superiority to the other ritual specialists of the village.
For the village lamas, however, this declaration was interpreted as an
insult, implying that their practice and knowledge was comparable to
and no better than that of the bongthing.
This insult led to Lopen Dugyal’s eventual expulsion from the village’s
lama community shortly after I left the village, an indication that the
village was not about to part with its shamanic worldview. For this to
happen, a whole new generation of lamas will probably have to be
trained in conventional Buddhism and gradually take their fathers’
seats in the village’s hierarchy. And more to the point, these incidents
indicate that the real competitive relation today may exist between
conventional Buddhism and the village lamas’ more pragmatic inter-
pretation of Buddhism, and not between bon and village Buddhism, or
between the lamas and the shamans as I originally thought. Bon has
barely survived among the Lhopos in Sikkim, with the pawo, nejum and
bongthing becoming less numerous every year and animal sacrifice now
being a very rare occurrence among Lhopos anywhere in Sikkim. From
a conventional Buddhist viewpoint, the poorly educated village lamas
are a far greater obstacle to the proper understanding and performance
of Buddhist rituals and the dissemination of Buddhist principles and
philosophy among the lay population, and Lopen Dugyal is far from
being the only conventional Buddhist lama in Sikkim to express this
view.
In the end, Lopen Dugyal was not unhappy with his expulsion, as
he realised that if villagers were not ready to change, then there was
 conventional buddhism and village religion 365

no going back for him, and instead he took up a teaching position at

the Institute of Higher Nyingma Studies, where he now contributes to
what he sees as the proper education of the next generation of lamas.
Indeed, as soon as he took up this teaching position, Lopen Dugyal
helped many young parents from Tingchim to get their sons admitted
to the institute. This tactic worked, and by the year 2000, village lamas
extended their formal apologies and Lopen Dugyal was re-integrated
into Tingchim’s lama-community. Although Lopen Dugyal was pleased,
in order to avoid new confrontations, he still refrains from performing
household rituals in Tingchim.

The problems Lopen Dugyal encountered result from a divergence not

only between a more conventional form of Buddhism and its village
adaptation but also between conventional Buddhism as taught by lamas
of Tibetan origin and its Sikkimese village version. Since the 1960s,
highly educated lamas of Tibetan origin have had a direct influence
on Buddhist education in Sikkim, and since they did not inherit any
relations with the deities of the land, worship of the latter has naturally
been discouraged as lowly and unnecessary. Indeed, contemporary high
lamas of Sikkimese origin such as the Lachen Rinpoche, as well as
some exceptional Tibetan high lamas such as the 16th Karmapa, do
not seem to dwell on such conflictual ideas and appear to have found
ways of accommodating the shamanic views of village lamas while still
bringing them towards higher levels of Buddhist appreciation. Thus,
the criticism aimed at village lamas by Lopen Dugyal and others like
him seems somewhat exaggerated and perhaps is more a means of
destabilising the understanding shared by the village’s bon and Bud-
dhist ritual specialists through attacking the purity of the village lamas’
practices. Indeed, for conventional Buddhist-minded lamas, the single
ritual complex of village religion first needs to be dismantled—or, in
other words, village lamas and shamans must be divided—if conven-
tional Buddhist views are to have any serious influence on the practice
of village Buddhism.
 CHAPTER TWELVE

CONCLUSION: THE APPARENT DICHOTOMY

BETWEEN BON AND BUDDHISM

The amiable co-existence of village lamas and bon ritual specialists

in Tingchim has had a number of causes. Historically, we have seen
that Sikkim was established as a Buddhist kingdom in the seventeenth
century by three Nyingma lamas from Tibet. As they proceeded to
tame the country and its inhabitants, the Lepchas’ sacred landscape
was integrated into their Buddhist rendition of Sikkim’s sacred geog-
raphy as a beyul. From its inception, Sikkim was based on a shamanic
view of the universe, where ancestors and protectors resided in its high
mountains and deities of all kinds populated its countryside. Lhopos
lived side by side with the Lepchas who, despite their gradual conver-
sion to Buddhism, never abandoned their shamanic rituals. Although
the kingdom eventually entertained close ties with Lhasa, it remained
politically independent as one of the less centralised regions of the
greater Tibetan cultural area where its own particular form of Bud-
dhism flourished at the periphery, away from the influence of the great
monastic institutions of central Tibet. Despite its independence from
Lhasa, the Sikkimese monarchy remained weak, often unable to keep
threats to its authority under control. Celibate monasteries, which could
have helped strengthen the position of the Chogyals and simultaneously
had an influence on Sikkim’s shamanic practices, never took root for
a number of reasons. As a result, the most respected ritual specialists
have been lamas who best understood the Lhopos’ needs for both Bud-
dhism and the bon rituals of the pawo and the bongthing; the former to
take care of their aspirations after death, and the latter to deal with
the obstacles, illnesses and misfortunes of life in this world.
With such a background, Tingchim villagers’ worldview remained
deeply shamanic, where the body, the household, the lineage, the village,
the landscape and the supernatural are intimately linked and thought
to affect each other. Household rituals are a celebration of these rela-
tions, where the bon ritual specialists and the village lamas perform joint
or separate rituals within this shamanic worldview. Their calendrical
rituals constantly maintain and reaffirm these relations, while curing
368 chapter twelve – conclusion

rituals re-establish order when these relations have been threatened or

violated. As a result of this ritual co-operation, the gomchen has emerged
as the most powerful and thus the most respected ritual specialist in
the village. Well versed in Buddhist practice, from his retreat above the
village, the gomchen is equally linked to the sacred landscape and the
needs of its inhabitants, applying his tantric powers for the benefit of
villagers’ worldly concerns. The encounter between bon and Buddhism
in Tingchim has resulted in the gomchen being their celebrated ritual
specialist, the mountain god Kangchendzönga their common deity, and
the khelen their common ritual practice.
Household rituals were strengthened by a number of recent eco-
nomic and political developments. When the villagers’ ties based on the
exchange of labour gradually eroded from the 1960s on, following the
settlement of Nepalese tenant farmers, domestic rituals provided villag-
ers with an important avenue for social relations which drew them closer
in the face of an increasing influx of outsiders. These rituals played a
similar role when their political ties were transformed after 1975: the
ma¸Óal was replaced by a Panchayat village council that was shared with
the Mangshila Limbus and that increasingly applied itself to obtaining
Tingchim’s share of development facilities instead of managing the
community. Again, the household rites of passage, in which attendance
is mandatory and which define community membership and thus the
right to participate in the village’s traditional dzomkha meetings, helped
maintain the dzomkha’s position as the local avenue for community
management despite the introduction of the Panchayat system.
The removal of the Buddhist monarchy in 1975 also saw the end of
state level Buddhism, which resulted in a marked decline in attendance
at Buddhist community rituals as much at the Phodong monastery as
in Tingchim. The death of the 16th Karmapa in 1981 had a similar
impact on Tingchim villagers, whose relations with Rumtek gradually
waned. As a result, the village’s relations with the outside world, which
had up till then been based on conventional Buddhism and its relation
with the high lamas and Rinpoches of Phodong, the Palace chapel and
Rumtek, had to be redefined. As the youth busied themselves with secu-
lar education and the establishment of new ties with an administration
and political parties increasingly dominated by Nepalese speakers, the
older generation folded back onto itself and its household rituals, which
in this state of disorientation and isolation greatly helped maintain the
ties of Tingchim’s Lhopo community.
 the apparent dichotomy between BON and buddhism 369

Mandatory attendance at and contribution to these domestic rituals

for each corporate household defines village membership. It is pre-
cisely these rituals and not those orthodox Buddhist rituals held at the
monastery or at the village’s prayer hall that are the main avenue for
social interaction. In turn, this system of mandatory ritual attendance
is one of the prime factors behind the survival of village religion and
the amiable co-existence of lamas and shamans, which in the end is
sustained by the villagers’ underlying shamanic worldview, which can
be defined as an absolute presupposition of culture.
The obligations of household rituals, particularly weddings and funer-
als, played a similar role for Sikkim’s Lhopo community by providing
a neutral ground on which all could meet beyond political and other
differences. Although these ritual obligations were originally meant to
ensure community membership and thus access to labour and help in
case of emergency, they were well maintained and adapted to the urban
setting, as they ensured financial contributions so that weddings and
especially funerals could be properly performed. A funerals is a person’s
most important rite of passage, and is so expensive that it may easily
sink a household in debt for years if it were not for the contributions
it is certain to receive.
In the late 1970s, the Lhopos felt threatened by accusations made
by a Nepalese-speaking politician that they were ‘Tibetans’ and thus
outsiders who had no rights to the tribal status reserved for India’s
indigenous people. Although the Lhopos have always felt very different
from Tibetans, language and rituals of the land again played an impor-
tant role in their efforts to promote themselves as ‘sons of the soil’ and
thus as one of Sikkim’s original communities. While the Lhoke dialect
is clearly distinct from Tibetan, domestic rituals and the khelen are a
celebration of the Lhopos’ long-standing relation with the sacred land,
a relation which clearly distinguishes them from Tibetans and migrants
of Nepalese origin. While harvest and other domestic rituals may serve
this purpose in the village, the rituals in honour of the sacred sites and
protectors of Demojong became particularly relevant to urban Lhopos,
as in the case of the protest movement against the construction of the
Rathong Chu hydro-electric project at Yuksum.
Eventually, in the 1990s, Buddhism gradually regained some of its
pre-1975 status as the village’s privileged avenue for its relations with
the outside world. This revival, which finds its roots in the interna-
tional success of Tibetan Buddhism, resulted in a series of Buddhist
370 chapter twelve – conclusion

manifestations at the state level and a renewed interest in Bud-

dhist education and participation in Buddhist community rituals in
Tingchim. While this revival is still primarily confined to the educa-
tion of Tingchim’s new generation of lamas, the future will tell in
what way it will affect the ritual practice of the village as these well
educated lamas return to Tingchim and, like Lopen Dugyal, confront
their village counterparts. However, this revival has also taken a distinct
Sikkimese character, where the need to promote and celebrate their
ancient relation with the sacred land has now indirectly given a voice
to the village’s form of Buddhism and its lamas. As rituals of the land
become more fashionable and village lamas continue to ensure their
celebration, the encounter between conventional and village Buddhism
is likely to keep unfolding in the years to come.
As a result of these developments, the household rituals of village
religion, and the shamanic worldview on which a number of these
rituals are based, have been kept alive in Tingchim. The villagers’
preference for the rituals of village religion when faced with problems
of daily life has proven itself on many occasions. Chief among these
is their discreet abandonment of the ritual designed by the 16th Kar-
mapa as a substitute for animal sacrifice a decade after the ritual had
been imposed in Tingchim by Tsing Tsing Ma¸Óal. Others include
the villagers’ preference, in times of crisis, for the rituals of the bon
ritual specialists and those of the few village lamas such as the Sesung
Gomchen who understand bon and have best harnessed Buddhism’s
tantric powers for the benefit of villagers’ worldly needs. The villag-
ers’ preference is reflected in the power of choice given to the nöpa in
the process of curing rituals, where a villager will try to negotiate the
recovery of a patient in exchange for the performance of a ritual of
the responsible nöpa’s choice. Depending on his identity and the cause
of the illness, the responsible nöpa may refuse the offering of a Buddhist
ritual and insist on the performance of a bon ritual that may, in extreme
cases, even include the sacrificial offering of an animal. Last but not
least among these examples is the eventual expulsion of Lopen Dugyal
from the village’s lama community. Although Lopen Dugyal may not
have been Tingchim’s most powerful lama, he was nevertheless its best
versed in Buddhist philosophy.
While I would not claim that religious developments in Tingchim are
typical of those in Sikkimese Lhopo villages, let alone in the Himala-
yan Buddhist cultural area as a whole, I believe that they have a wider
 the apparent dichotomy between BON and buddhism 371

relevance in as much as they indicate a process which can be discovered

elsewhere in the region, or one which has been thwarted for a variety
of reasons. I have suggested that problems and tensions arise when the
worldviews on which domestic rituals are based are questioned. Tensions
or even confrontations do not specifically arise between shamanism and
Buddhism but between village Buddhism and conventional Buddhist
tendencies when these are not sufficiently intimate and understanding
of people’s problems. While bon and village Buddhism to some extent
share the same shamanic worldview and form a single ritual complex,
conventional Buddhism does not make use of these shamanic relations,
which are so fundamental to villagers’ perception of themselves, their
problems and the world they live in. In some respect, conventional Bud-
dhism is based on a similar but nevertheless far too abstract worldview,
and few knowledgeable lamas have successfully managed to reconcile
these two levels of perception and aspiration. Nevertheless, despite their
apparent preference for village religion in times of need, villagers have
deep respect and great aspirations for conventional Buddhism. While
conventional Buddhism helps define the village from without, village
religion defines the person and the community from within. In the case
of post-1975 Sikkim, household rituals seem effectively to have replaced
the village’s prayer hall and the monastery as the centre of villagers’
community and social life.
The bon and Buddhist rituals of village religion have, over the years,
evolved in interaction with conventional Buddhism and, at times, even
in reaction to what is perceived as foreign Buddhist ideals of discipline,
celibacy and scholarship. In this sense, the bon aspect of these rituals
should be seen not simply as a survival or a remnant of an ancient
form of non-Buddhist ritual but as a living tradition which, as we have
seen, has known many phases and encounters in its recent history. Nor
should this challenge to conventional Buddhism be seen as an unfor-
tunate display of ignorance. I believe it to be a healthy indication that
what is fundamental to the Sikkimese way of thinking is not about to
disappear. Such a reaction may be compared to what Sonam Chhoki
observed in Bhutan, where the pawo/nejum complex in the village she
studied could well be a local tradition that “grew in interaction with
and in response to the overwhelming pressures and constraints of the
religious-political orthodoxy” rather than a primitive pre-Buddhist bon
tradition (Chhoki 1993: 9). However, in the case of Sikkim, the local
response would not have been directed towards the state’s oppressive
372 chapter twelve – conclusion

religious-political orthodoxy but rather towards Tibet, in an effort to

define and assert autonomy from a more disciplined, scholarly, celibate
and politically powerful Tibetan monk-body.
We have seen that the relation between shamanism and Buddhism
in the various regions of the Tibetan cultural area has expressed itself
in different ways. Generally, these have been of three kinds. In the first
category are populations like the Sherpas and the Tibetans of Gya-
sumdo, studied respectively by Ortner (1995) and Mumford (1989),
whose celibate lamas have gone to great lengths to eradicate shamanic
practices in their surrounding areas. In a second category are those
Tibetan Buddhist populations whose shamans have been somewhat inte-
grated and are in various degrees controlled or significantly influenced
by the Buddhist establishment, such as the oracles studied by Day (1989,
1990) in Ladakh, the lhapa of Upper Tibet (Bellezza 2005) and the spirit-
mediums of the Tibetan refugees studied by Berglie (1979, 1982). In a
third category, the only ethnographic example I have come across of a
population of recent Tibetan origin comparable to the Sikkimese Lho-
pos, are the Khumbos of the Arun Valley on the western side of Mount
Kangchendzönga in Nepal studied by Diemberger (1991, 1992, 1996).
The khumbo village lama and lhaven (the equivalent of the bongthing)
perform rituals side by side as in Tingchim, and the Khumbo lhakama
(the equivalent of the nejum) has remained independent of the Buddhist
establishment, although her practice seems to have been influenced by
Nyingma Buddhism.1 The Tamangs (Holmberg 1989) and the Lepchas
(Gorer 1938) offer similar examples of ritual integration between three
types of ritual specialists, but these populations enter into a different
category as they are not populations sharing a recent migration from
Tibet and thus a similar religious history. Nevertheless, what the Lhopos
of Tingchim, the Khumbos, the Tamangs and the Lepchas all share,
in addition to a well integrated shamanic and Buddhist ritual complex
at the village level incorporating three types of religious specialists, is
a complete lack of celibate monastic traditions.
However, the absence of a strong celibate monk-body engaged in
a campaign against shamans is not necessarily the sole reason for the

1
Diemberger’s articles are concerned with two specific co-operative rituals and
individual ritual specialists and were not intended to convey the religious complex as
a whole or the relation between the lama’s, lhaven’s and lhakama’s ritual practices within
the wider social context.
 the apparent dichotomy between BON and buddhism 373

persistence of shamanism. Ortner, Adams and Mumford all note that in

the end, despite the celibate lamas’ efforts, a certain form of shamanism
still refuses to die. The shamanic worldview indeed seems to be very
deeply ingrained. In Tingchim, during the pawo’s annual retreat, the
most important question which was put to Lopen Dugyal by the spirit
of Doko Pawo, was, in villagers’ eyes, whether he—Lopen Dugyal, as
a representative of conventional Buddhism—was able to take control
of the supernatural beings of the local territory. In other words, did
he—like other ritual specialists, each following their own ritual meth-
ods with the help of their own supernatural entities according to a
complementary division of labour—have, to borrow Hobart’s phrase,
the “capacity to articulate the manifest and non-manifest worlds”? (1992:
15). During the retreat, Doko Pawo was encouraging Lopen Dugyal not
to oppose but to accept this shared understanding and to join in with
the village lamas and shamans in their combined efforts to articulate the
manifest and non-manifest worlds. Thus, to answer the original ques-
tion put forward in the chapter 1, village lamas and shamans have no
need to eradicate or control the practice of one another; rather, they
complement each other in articulating the various realms that make up
their world, since it is understood that neither is sufficiently powerful to
articulate all realms on his own. The presupposition that the physical,
social and supernatural all affect one another will first have to lose some
of its importance before lamas and their abstract liturgy-based rituals
alone may inspire the confidence of villagers. Meanwhile, shamans,
and in their absence village lamas, are likely to continue articulating
these realms on their own.
Thus, I have argued that the relationship between village lamas, pawo/
nejum and bongthing—or equivalent ritual specialists—is not necessarily
based on rivalries or clashing views as the encounters between lamas
and shamans have often been reported to be, but on well established,
co-operative and complementary working relations aimed at articulat-
ing the physical, social and supernatural realms in their effort to relieve
villagers from the sufferings of life in this world.
Now that foreign anthropologists have been given permission to carry
out research in Tibet, there are indications that such ritual integration
of lamas and shamans, in various forms, was actually common in
Tibet. Epstein has pointed out that many folk rituals were celebrated
continuously until the Cultural Revolution in 1966 and have since been
revived (Epstein 1998). Future studies in Tibet will hopefully balance
our views by documenting new cases of lama-shaman relations along
374 chapter twelve – conclusion

with their social role in the community beyond Ladakh, Nepal, Sikkim
and Bhutan, where such encounters have so far been documented.
In this study, I have also attempted to point out elements that may
link the practice of the pawo to non-Buddhist Tibetan practices that
seem no longer to be present among the spirit-mediums of Tibet itself.
Among others, such elements include (1) the altar and bon texts of the
pawo’s annual retreat, which invoke Shenrab and his daughter, a mo
lha from the valley of Yarlung, (2) the importance of the pho lha mo
lha as lineage protectors, along with the interaction between villagers
and the spirits of these deified ancestors during possession rituals, and
(3) the existence of bon paradises where these distinguished ancestors
are still thought to reside. This is, of course, without mentioning the
pawo’s general independence from the Buddhist establishment and the
way this is reflected in his rituals, the supernatural beings he deals with,
his treatment of illness and the question of animal sacrifice. The invo-
cation of a mo lha from Yarlung as the main deity of the pawo’s annual
retreat is also an interesting element in terms of migration. We have
seen that the Sikkimese Lhopo clans responsible for the establishment
of Sikkim as a political entity in the seventeenth century claim to have
migrated from Kham Minyak and settled in these southern valleys
probably around the thirteenth century. The ancestors of Tingchim
villagers were part of a different migrating group(s) that likewise first
settled in Chumbi and Ha before entering what is today considered
Sikkim proper in the seventeenth century. The identity of a descent
group’s pho lha mo lha can provide clues to its migration history since
local deities are adopted where people settle for any period of time, and
then included on the pho lha mo lha altars—although this is a subject to
be approached with much caution since ancestral gods can be adopted
in a number of ways, including by curse and by the transfer of land.
However, the presence of the great mo lha from Yarlung, Yum Machen
Düsum Sangay, as the central deity of the pawo’s most important ritual
is an indication that Tingchim villagers may trace their origin to the
Yarlung Valley of the kings of central Tibet, an ancient origin which
could indicate that their establishment in these southern valleys long
predates the migration of the western Sikkimese clans from Kham
Minyak in the thirteenth century. Although hypothetical, such an
ancient origin and history of migration towards the isolated southern
valleys of Ha and Chumbi on the fringes of the Tibetan cultural area
would help explain their escape from the later impact of Buddhism,
which resulted in the preservation of various bon and shamanic rituals
 the apparent dichotomy between BON and buddhism 375

as their main patrilineal ritual practices up until the beginning of the

twentieth century. However, further comparative research on the pho
lha mo lha and their rituals for all Lhopo descent groups—including
those lineages presently settled in Ha and Chumbi—would be neces-
sary in order to bring such a hypothesis close to any conclusion. This
possible ancient origin predating the full impact of Buddhist thought
on indigenous practices would also help explain the remarkable degree
of affinity between the practices of the Sikkimese shamans and those
of North Asia.
While it is impossible to predict the future form village religion will
take in Sikkim (or even Tingchim), I would imagine that the greatest
lamas—such as the 16th Karmapa—who, unlike other lamas, have over
and again dramatically proven their unquestioned capacity to success-
fully articulate the physical, social and supernatural realms, will not
only continue to inspire village lamas and shamans but will contribute
indirectly to reinforcing their shamanic view of the universe. One should
indeed remember that when villagers consult such high lamas, they are
usually consulted for their shamanic powers in moments of crisis rather
than for the merit of their rituals. But access to such lamas is extremely
rare, and in their absence, their memory continues to inspire and even
unite not only village lamas and shamans but Sikkimese conventional
Buddhist lamas as well. In the end, although the latter have been indoc-
trinated in the benefits of a purer form of Buddhism which inevitably
clashes with the pragmatic interests and methods of the village lamas,
they are all equally in awe of these great charismatic lamas. The much
awaited return of the 17th Karmapa to Sikkim is likely to open a new
chapter in the old lama-shaman relation in Sikkimese villages. Such high
lamas could indeed be compared to the Balinese king who is perceived
as “organiser of personnel and resources, and as articulator both of
divergent interests and worlds” (Hobart 1992: 16).
In the late 1990s, the Sesung Gomchen, Tingchim Pawo Nadu and
his mother the nejum all passed away without leaving suitable succes-
sors. The bongthing has kept performing despite his advanced age, but
it is only a question of years before the village lamas are left alone
to perform all of Tingchim’s household rituals. While bon is rapidly
becoming history, I believe that Tingchim’s village lamas will continue
to perform their household rituals for many years to come. Although
many of Tingchim’s lama-students are presently being trained in con-
ventional Buddhism and may eventually have an important influence
on the current village lamas’ practices, there is every chance that a
376 chapter twelve – conclusion

number of them will never return to the village upon the completion
of their studies as they find employment as government servants or in
Buddhist centres around the world. Sikkim has always been a shamanic
state, and I doubt the death of its bon ritual specialists and the Buddhist
revival of the 1990s will rapidly succeed in changing people’s shamanic
perception of themselves and the world they live in. One may even
witness what has been called ‘a shamanism without shamans’, where old
ideas are still potent but obscurely transformed (Price 2001). Although
there are good chances that a purer form of Buddhism will eventually
take over, it will probably be another few decades before villagers and
their lamas effectively shake off their deep rooted shamanic history and,
in a way, redefine what it means to be Sikkimese.
 GLOSSARY OF RECURRENT TERMS

Adhiyā̃ and ku (Nepali): Tenancy agreements. In Tingchim, under the adhiyā̃ or

‘equal partnership’ system, the labourer enters into a contract with the
landowner by which he will turn over fifty percent of the harvest after the
seeds required for next year’s crop have been set aside. Under the ku or
contract system as practiced in Tingchim, the tenant agrees to turn over
a specific amount of the harvest regardless of production fluctuation but
which gives the tenant farmer the right to build a hut on the landowner’s
land. There are many variations of the ku system.
Ajo anyo: ‘Grandfather grandmother’. Lepcha supernatural beings adopted by
the Lhopos.
Ajo Dongbong (A jo ’brang ’bong): Lepcha ancestor-spirit worshipped by
Lhopos all over Sikkim. Also knows as Mempo Athing and Puna Ajo (the
grandfather of the high land).
Ajo Goka (A jo mgo dkar): Also known as Tsong Goka (gTsong mgo dkar)
or Kame Ajo (Kha smad a jo), the grandfather from the low land. This
ambivalent spirit from Nepal is actually a Limbu ancestor recognised by
Lhopos all over Sikkim and has no specific relation with Tingchim villagers.
Ajo Goka and Ajo Dongbong will be honoured at harvest rituals among the
Lhopos throughout Sikkim and will both have pigs dedicated and sacrificed
in their honour.
Aku pami (a ku bar mi ): The father of the groom’s representative in all marriage
negotiations and celebrations.
Ashang (a zhang): Maternal uncle and a daughter’s main supportive relative.
From the moment she is born, and for the rest of her life, a girl’s ashang will
be considered a kind of ‘godfather’, who will took after her if her parents
die, who may teach her discipline, give her advice and generally look after
her well-being.
Bada (sba ’da’ ): Money offered at weddings.
Bardo (bar do): Literally ‘intermediate’ or ‘in between’. The interval from the
moment the individual begins to die until its rebirth.
Barmo (’bar mo): Type of witchcraft based on envy which is said to be con-
sciously and maliciously performed exclusively by women who have been
trained in this black art by their mothers. It is the equivalent of the boksi
witches of the Nepalese.
Bätö (bal thod ): Headdress of the pawo or nejum made of coloured wool wrapped
around a circle of bamboo which is worn during most séances. The bätö
embodies the power, knowledge and qualities of the kabab, the spiritual
ascendant of the pawo or nejum and of his or her tutelary deity.
Bebtsengye (’Bebs mtshan brgyad): See Tongduruji below.
Beyul (sbas yul ): Sacred hidden land.
378 glossary of recurrent terms

Biasu (’bya su’u): Sikkimese snacks made of puffed or flattened rice or maize.
Biatsi (’bya rtsi): Thanksgiving offering ritual performed after the summer
harvest of rice.
Bon (bon): In Tingchim, bon refers to specific oral ritual texts that are chanted
and considered to be the core of the bon specialists’ ritual knowledge. It
may also refer to knowledge that has been imparted directly from the
supernatural either during possession rituals in case of the pawo or nejum,
or through inspiration or dreams in case of the bon ban or the bonghting.
The main bon texts in Tingchim are The Bon Confession from China (rGya nag
bshags bon), and The Bon [Story] of the Deer with the Eight-Branched Antlers (Bon
shwa ba’i rwa brgyad ).
Bon ban (bon ban): For Tingchim villagers, bon ban means ‘the one who can
recite the oral texts of bon’. Bon ban is the reversal of the more usual form
ban bon, ‘Buddhist and Bon priests’ (ban is an abbreviation of ban dhe, from
Sk. vandya). However, Jäschke’s entry for ban bon includes the definition ‘a
Bon-priest’, in which case, however the word probably would be bon ban.
Bongthing: Term borrowed from the Lepcha language which is often used to
refer to the bon ban of the Lhopos who are thought to act like the bongthing,
the male ritual specialist of the Lepchas.
Bon Tenpa Yab Yum (Bon bstan pa yab yum) is regarded as Tonpa Shenrab,
the founder of Bon. He is represented on the altar of the lineage protectors
and said to reside in the paradise of the bon gods (Bon lha yul lha shod).
Bumkor (’bum bskor): A community ritual whereby the Buddhist scriptures are
taken out of the village’s prayer hall (mani lhakhang) to bless the village
houses.
Byāj (Nepali): Illegal loan system whereby a certain amount of money is lent,
equal to the value of a particular field. The harvest of this same field is
given to the lender as interest only until the borrower repays the initial
capital. If this cannot be done by a certain pre-agreed number of years,
the field then belongs to the money-lender.
Cham (’cham): Monastic ritual masqued dances. These are held annually in a
number of Sikkimese monasteries.
Chang (chang): Millet beer. In Sikkim, chang is usually made of fermented millet
and drunk from a wooden or bamboo pot with a straw.
Cherkha (byad kha): Curse or malediction.
Chirim (spyi rim): ‘Common ritual’. Annual community ritual where, in
Tingchim, the village lamas and the bongthing officiate together within the
precinct of the village’s prayer hall.
Chogyal (chos rgyal): Title of the Sikkimese kings. From Tibetan chos, Dharma
and rgyal po, king, or the one who rules according to religion.
Dablha (dgra lha): Warrior god.
Dadani (Nepali): Illegal loan system whereby goods and money are given on
credit during the monsoon and repaid with a pre-fixed amount of carda-
mom three to four months later at harvest time. The loan rates are highly
disadvantageous to the borrower.
Degye (sde brgyad ): ‘Eight classes of spirits’. In Tingchim, these consist of the:
(1) lu (klu), aquatic deities, (2) tsen (btsan), red male spirits living in the rocks,
 glossary of recurrent terms 379

(3) dü (bdud ), malevolent black spirits, (4) mamo (ma mo), ferocious female dei-
ties, (5) tsomen (mtsho sman), female aquatic deities, (6) za ( gza’ ), malevolent
planetary deities, (7) nöjin ( gnod sbyin), guardian deities of the natural riches
of the soil, (8) lha, benevolent white deities.
Demojong (’Bras mo ljongs): Or simply Denjong, the name for Sikkim in
Lhoke, meaning ‘the fruitful valley’, often translated as the ‘valley of rice’.
It corresponds to the heart of historical Sikkim located around and below
Mount Kangchendzönga in West Sikkim. Beyul Demoshong (sBas yul
’bras mo gshongs), however, remains a true hidden land. Some people are
said to have caught glimpses of it through an opening in the rock while
travelling through the mountains although the entry could never be found
again (‘gshongs’ means valley of rolling hills, while ‘ljongs’ means land or
country).
Dö (mdos): Structure prepared by the lamas made of one or many thread-
crosses and ritually offered to various degye. If offered to a tsen, the thread
used in making a dö will be red, white if offered to a gyepo and black if
offered to a dü. Various dough effigies called lü may be placed at the base
of the thread-cross.
Dorje Lopen (rdo rje slob dpon): Monastery abbot.
Drebon (’dre bon): Bon rituals concerned with honouring or appeasing the ambiva-
lent local supernatural beings. The rituals of drebon are called drechö and their
red or black offerings marchö or nachö since they would consist of red blood
or meat and black torma made of dark grain such as millet.
Drib (sgrib): Pollution, defilement.
Dü (bdud ): Spirits generally considered being openly malevolent.
Duk (dug): Poison.
Dzogchen (rDzogs chen): The teachings of the ‘Great Perfection’ shared by
both Nyingmapa and Bonpo.
Dzomkha (’dzoms kha): Village meeting attended by the heads of all land-own-
ing households.
Gelong (dge slong): A fully ordained lama having taken vows of celibacy.
Go ( gos): Men and women’s long dress.
Gomchen (sgom chen): ‘Great practitioner’. Realised tantric practitioners who, in
Sikkim, lived in mountain caves and were known for their magical powers,
non-conformity and irreverence towards any form of worldly authority.
Go sha nga (mgo sha lnga): The go sha nga is an important type of offering ritual
in Sikkim and will vary from one Lhopo village to another. In theory, it
should consists of five different types of meat but in Tingchim the offering
consists of an ox’s head and a hind leg obtained from the butcher which
are boiled and placed on a flat basket in front of the torma representing
the various pho lha.
Gyari (rgya ri’i ): Special offering of meat.
Gyepo (rgyal po): King-spirit.
Gyü (brgyud ): Lineage.
Jhā̃kri (Nepali): In Tingchim, jhā̃kri is a general term used to refer to most
ritual specialists of Nepalese origin who enter into a trance with the use of
a drum. The majority of jhā̃kri in Tingchim are Tamang.
380 glossary of recurrent terms

Jitsen and sumtsen (bzhi mtshan and gsum mtshan): Gifts of meat, chang, chum
(uncooked rice) and biasu exchanged between families at weddings.
Kabab (bka’ babs): In this context, bka’ means ‘speech’ or ‘order’ and babs means
‘to come down on’. A kabab corresponds to a pawo or nejum’s spiritual ascen-
dant to whom he may or may not be related. A new pawo or nejum must be
the spiritual descendant of a previous shaman or kabab from whom he or
she will magically inherit his or her powers and qualities.
Kabur Kangtsen (Ga bur gangs btsan): ‘The tsen of the snows of Kabur’.
Mountain god also known as Chong Gyepo or the Northern King.
Kaji (or kazi): Sikkimese landed nobility. Kaji is thought to mean ‘magistrate’ in
Persian. Qazi were found throughout the Mughal Empire as head of towns
appointed by the imperial court. The majority of kajis in Sikkim are of
Lepcha descent (Barfungpa and Kangsarpa clans) while some are Tibetans
(Wajelingpa, Thakapa) and others Lhopos (Lasso, Lingmo). The Sikkimese
equivalent for kaji is lönpo (blon po —minister). Landlords of Nepalese origin
were called hekādār (contractor). The ruling kaji of an estate—usually the
eldest son—was referred to by the Lepcha term of address ‘athing’. The
monastic estate of Phodong, where Tingchim is located, was not headed
by a landlord but by a mukter (see entry below).
Kangchendzönga (Gangs chen mdzod lnga): Gangs snow, chen great, mdzod
treasure, lnga five. The mountain deity of Sikkim often simply referred to
as Dzönga. As pho lha, he is considered the chief of all local supernatural
beings of Sikkim as well as the owner of the land ( gzhi b dag) and the warrior
god (dgra lha) of the Sikkimese people. As a Buddhist deity, he is considered
an emanation of the king of the north or god of wealth (rGyal chen rnam
thos sras), red in colour, wearing an armour, riding a snow lion and carrying
precious stones, a spear, a turban shaped hat and a banner of victory over
his head symbolising eternal victory over the evil forces.
Kha chang (kha chang): Formal proposal and first of the wedding steps.
Khandro (mkha’ ’gro): Celestial female deity of tantric Buddhism.
Khelen (khas len and its honourific form zhal len): Oral ritual text chanted as part
of the various offering rituals for the deities of the land or the ancestral gods
by the pawo, the nejum, the bon ban, the bongthing, the lamas, and occasionally,
village elders. Although these recitations are considered a bon tradition, some
khelen have been written down and included in Buddhist rituals. They always
have four sections: purification, invitation, offering and dismissal.
Khim sa tashi (khyim gsar bkra shis): Ritual held upon completing the construction
of a house and thus establishing a new corporate household.
Kongso (bskang gso): The literal meaning of bskang gso is ‘to feed to the point of
satiety’. In Tingchim, the Kongso ritual is an offering to Kabur Kangtsen. This
local Kongso is not to be confused with the standard Kongso ritual performed
on a daily basis in every Sikkimese monastery in honour of its protectors.
Ku : See adhiyā̃.
Labyong (la ’byongs): ‘White’ or ‘red’ ritual offerings presented on a banana leaf
by the bongthing to the supernatural beings of the territory.
Lama yidam khandro (bla ma yi dam mkha’ ’gro): In the centre is Guru Rinpoche as
its outer manifestation; on the right is Guru Dragpo, the inner manifestation
 glossary of recurrent terms 381

and wrathful form of Guru Rinpoche; and on the left is Seng Dongma (lion
face), the secret manifestation of Dorje Pamo, Guru Rinpoche’s consort.
Together, they are known as lama yidam khandro. As lama, Guru Rinpoche
dispenses blessings; as yidam, Guru Dragpo dispenses powers; and as khandro,
Seng Dongma gives protection. These manifestations of Guru Rinpoche
are represented on both Nyingma and Kagyud altars in the rituals of vil-
lage lamas in Sikkim.
Latsen (la btsan): The tsen spirit of the mountain pass.
Letsen (las tshan): Village tax collector.
Lha (lha): Deities well-disposed towards human beings.
Lhabon (lha bon): Bon rituals concerned with the protective pho lha mo lha. The
rituals of lhabon are called lhachö and their corresponding white offerings
karchö since they usually consist of white items such as rice.
Lhade mide (lha sde mi sde): ‘Monk body lay body’. The traditional state council
created by Chagdor Namgyal in the early 1700s. The lhade mide was com-
posed of an equal number of lamas and laymen.
Lhakhang (lha khang): The altar room found in every Lhopo house.
Lhoke (lho skad ): Southern Tibetan dialect spoken by the Lhopos. Also called
Denjongke, Sikkimese or Bhutia.
Lhopo (lho pa): ‘People from the south’. The Lhopos are also referred to as
Bhutia, Denjongpa or Sikkimese.
Lopen (slob dpon): Teacher.
Losar (lo gsar): Tibetan New Year usually held in February.
Loshi gurim ( lo gcig sku rim): ‘The ninth ritual of the end of the year’. End of
the year rituals held at the Phodong monastery.
Losung (lo bsrung): Sikkimese farmer’s New Year (Sonam Losar) held after the
harvest in December.
Lu (klu): Aquatic deities.
Lü ( glud ): Effigy.
Lugsö (lugs srol ): Tradition, or the right way to behave and perform rituals.
Machi (ma cig): Elder brother’s wife.
Mamo (ma mo): Class of ferocious female deities.
Ma al (Nepali): Village headman, tax collector in Sikkim. As head of the
village, a pipon was nominated by the elders or in some cases, elected by
the villagers, while a ma al was appointed either by a landlord or the
Chogyal as his representative. As the head of the village, the ma al was
also in charge of tax collection. In Nepal however, a ma al means ‘group
or congregation’.
Mangchö (mang mchod ): Annual community ritual performed in Tingchim until
the 1960s that required the sacrificial offering of an ox for all the supernatural
beings of the land. It was replaced by the Buddhist Bumkor.
Mani lhakhang (ma ni lha khang): The village’s ‘house of gods’ or prayer hall.
These are found throughout Sikkim as a place for the women of the village
over childbearing age to meet and pray on the 8th, 15th and 30th of each
lunar month. A mani lhakhang, as opposed to a gonpa or monastery, does not
have living quarters for lamas.
382 glossary of recurrent terms

Masang Khyungdü (Ma sangs khyung ’dus/bdud, also known as sGang ring
btsan): Mountain deity residing on the mountain range separating the
Bhutanese valley of Ha and the Tibetan valley of Chumbi close to the Sik-
kimese border. He is the most important lineage protector, the great pho lha
and victorious leader and head of all the tsen. He is the mountain deity of
the residents of Ha and Chumbi and was brought with Tingchim villagers’
forefathers and other Lhopos when they migrated to Sikkim.
Masang shode (Ma sangs sha’u ’das): Offering ritual for Masang Khyungdü and
other pho lha held on three occasions by the bon ritual specialists: (1) for the
birth of a first son, (2) during the initiation ritual which will install a new
pawo, and (3) in case of serious illness. In the past, a yak or ox was offered
and different parts of the animals were displayed and offered on its hide.
It now consists of a go sha nga (head and hind leg of an ox obtained from
the butcher).
Mendong (man sdong): The village mendong is a small stūpa meant to bring good
crops and peace to the village.
Mo (mo): Divination.
Mukter: The agent of the Phodong monastery who acted as administrator and
revenue collector for the Estate’s six village blocks. The mukter was appointed
by and was directly answerable to the Palace. The term seems to originate
from the Ottoman Empire. Mukhtar means village chief or mayor in Iraq.
Nagshang (sngags ’chang): ‘The holder of tantra knowledge’. A ritual specialist
thought to have mastered Buddhism’s tantric powers as well as the ritual
skills of the bongthing and the pawo that did not require possession.
Nam (mna’ ma): Daughter-in-law or bride.
Nang chang tung she ( gnang chang thung shed ) or simply nang chang: The engagement
party held in the girl’s house. This is the second of the wedding steps.
Natsi (nag rtsi ): Thanksgiving offering ritual performed after the winter harvest
of wheat.
Ne ( gnas): Powerful sacred site.
Nejum (rnal ’byor ma): Female shaman of the Lhopos.
Nesol ( gNas gsol ): ‘Offering to powerful sacred places’. Ritual offering to
Kangchendzönga and all the deities of the land. The Nesol ritual is a cel-
ebration of Sikkim as a sacred hidden land.
Ngala (snga lag): Work exchange group among Lhopo farmers. Each farmer’s
work group is stable but different, made up of a mixture of relatives, friends
and neighbours from two or three different households with whom he, or
his father, has agreed to work with on a personal exchange basis.
Nöjin ( gnod sbyin): Guardian deities of the natural riches of the soil.
Nöpa ( gnod pa): Supernatural beings inclined to cause obstructions, damage
or trouble.
Nyen sha sa she (gnyen sha za shed or simply gnyen): This is the third of the wed-
ding steps and the actual wedding.
Nyungne am (smyung gnas a ma): The village’s group of praying women gather
there on three different days in the course of a month (on the 8th, 15th
and 30th of the lunar calendar) for their common practice of Chenresig,
the Bodhisattva of Compassion.
 glossary of recurrent terms 383

Pang Lhabsol (dPang lha gsol ): ‘Offering to the witness god’. National ritual of the
land which used to be performed by the Pemayangtse lamas at the Palace
chapel in Gangtok in honour of Kangchendzönga and all the deities of the
land. The Pangtö cham (see next entry) was an important part of the rituals.
At some point, dignitaries and representatives took a solemn oath in the
presence of the protective deities to serve the country.
Pangtö cham (dpang bstod ’cham): The Pangtö cham is essentially a victory dance,
where lay men carrying sword and shield, and wearing helmets decorated
with banners of victory, praise the witness god and invoke Kangchendzönga
as their warrior god celebrating the subjugation of enemies. This dance used
to be performed at the Palace chapel during Pang Lhabsol.
Pawo (dpa’ bo): Male shaman of the Lhopos.
Penlop (dpon slob): The village’s lama head-teacher.
Pho lha mo lha ( pho lha mo lha): ‘Father god mother god’. The Lhopo’s ancestral
gods and lineage protectors.
Piake (bya’ skes): Birth ritual where chickens are brought to the house of a new
born and eaten by the assembly of relatives.
Pipon (spyi dpon): Village headman. The pipon had an assistant headman in
charge of resolving disputes called a tsomi, a tax collector or letsen, and two
assistants or messengers capable of managing respectively one hundred and
ten villagers. The latter were called gyapon and chupon.
Powa (’pho ba): Transference of consciousness at death. A powerful tantric ritual
intended to guide the consciousness out of the body through an opening at
the top of the head and towards its immediate enlightenment.
Rigdzin Ne (Rig ’dzin gnas): The bon paradise for men located at Ne Dorje
Phu (gNas rdo rje’i phug), a sacred location between Ha and Chumbi. The
women’s paradise, located at the same place is called Metok Padma Ling
(Me tog padma gling).
Ri-nga (rigs lnga): Fivefold crown representing the Cosmic Buddhas worn by
most spirit-mediums, oracles or shamans of the Tibetan cultural area.
Rinpoche (rin po che): Literally, ‘precious one’. A honourific title given to incar-
nate lamas and eminent spiritual teachers.
Rü (rus): Clan.
Sang (bsang): Fumigation. Purification and auspicious ritual involving the burn-
ing of incense, usually juniper wood.
Serkyem ( gser skyems): Libation.
Sesung Gomchen (Ser bsrung sgom chen): ‘Hail protector, great practitioner’.
The weather controlling lama of the village.
Shang lha (zhang lha): The protector of women who, after marriage, follows
them as a protective pho lha from their ashang, or mother’s brother’s house
to the house of their husband.
Shapten (zhabs brtan): In Tingchim, whether bon or Buddhist, any ritual meant
to cure or generally help someone is called shapten. A shapten is also meant
to turn any bad or inauspicious situation into a positive one by removing
obstacles and strengthening the life force of the patient.
Shey ( gshed ): Supernatural being thought to have taken a person’s life.
384 glossary of recurrent terms

Shindre ( gshin ’dre): In Tingchim, a shindre is usually thought to be the spirit of

someone whose consciousness was kidnapped after death by a local nöpa
due to an improper funeral or who suffers excessive attachment to and thus
lingers around the surroundings of its past existence, creating trouble for the
living and interacting with relatives through the medium of the pawo until
it can be liberated through the performance of a specific ritual.
Söndre ( gson ’dre): Evil-eye.
Tendrel (rten ’brel ): Arising in mutual connection.
Terma ( gter ma): For the Nyingmapas, terma are spiritual treasures, sometimes
objects such as images but usually teachings and texts attributed to Guru
Rinpoche who hid them so as to be later physically discovered or revealed
in other ways by Buddhist practitioners called terton.
Tongduruji (sTong ’du rus bzhi): ‘The four clans of a thousand each’. Superior
descent group of four clans thought to be among the first Tibetans to have
settled in Sikkim. Originally from Kham Minyak in eastern Tibet, the Tong-
duruji first settled in the Chumbi Valley in the thirteenth century from where
they gradually migrated to Sikkim proper and helped establish the kingdom
in 1642. Bebtsengye (’Bebs mtshan brgyad): The ‘eight tribes [names] of
settlers’ are a slightly inferior descent group of eight clans claiming their
origin to Kham Minyak and relation with the superior Tongduruji.
Tong len kyab she ( gtong len skyab shed ): The sending away and receiving of the
bride. The fourth of the wedding steps.
Torgyap ( gtor rgyab): In Tingchim, the torgyap has always been considered the
ritual tool of the tantric ritual specialists of the village. Earlier this century,
the torgyap was the domain of the nagshang who would harness the worldly
powers of the nöpa and send them to counter obstructive forces, or in some
cases, even harm or kill enemies.
Torma ( gtor ma): Conical ritual cakes usually made of rice or millet dough.
Torma are erected on both Buddhist and bon altars.
Tsam (mtshams): Retreat for the practice of meditation.
Tsamche (mtshams bcad ): The pawo and nejum’s annual retreat.
Tsam khang (mtshams khang): Retreat house.
Tsampa (rtsam pa): Roasted, grounded barley, wheat or rice flour mixed into a
paste with tea and butter.
Tsen (btsan): Male red spirits who live in the rocks.
Tsog (tshogs): Offering ritual where the offered eatable items (torma, grain, fruit,
etc.) are blessed by the deities presiding over the ritual and then distributed
and eaten by the assembly.
Tsomen (mtsho sman): Female lu living in small ponds, lakes and streams. They
will cause women to abort or have their periods.
Tsomi (’tsho mi ): Assistant village headman in charge of resolving disputes.
Tulku (sprul sku): An honourific title bestowed on recognised incarnations of
spiritual masters.
Tuso (thugs gso): Condolence money offered at funerals.
Yabdü (Yab bdud): Kangchendzönga’s subordinate and gatekeeper of Sikkim’s
southern border lower down the river Teesta.
 glossary of recurrent terms 385

Yangku ( g.yang ’gug): Ritual held by lamas so that the element of yang necessary
to the production of good fortune, wealth and prosperity doesn’t leave the
household when a girl is sent away to her husband’s house or when a body
is sent to the cremation ground.
Yebā: Limbu shaman.
Yeshe Gonpo (Ye shes mgon po or ’Jig rten mgon po): Yeshe Gonpo, also
referred to as Mahākāla is worshiped as a helpful territorial god in the
context of the pho lha mo lha. The pawo, nejum and bongthing regard him as
the supreme deity of their particular pantheon and as the head of the pho
lha mo lha. He is also the Tingchim pawo’s tutelary deity which he inherited
from his lineage of pawo.
Yidam ( yi dam): A meditation deity who is the embodiment of a particular
aspect of enlightenment.
Yum Machen Düsum Sangay (Yum ma chen Dus gsum sangs rgyas): The
omniscient mother who knows all three times: past, present and future. The
name actually means ‘Great mother, buddhas of the three times’. She is also
referred to as Naljorma Tsenden Loden (rNal ’byor ma mtshan ldan glog
sgron—‘Superior yogini, lightning-lamp’). She is the daughter of Shenrab,
the founder of Bon.
Za ( gza’ ): Planetary deities causing illnesses such as epilepsy.
Zung ( gzung): A zung is an animal that has been ritually assigned by the bongthing
and now belongs to a local supernatural being.
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 NAMES INDEX

Adams, V. 4, 14, 18–20, 24 Firth, R. 15

Aris, M. 74 n. Foning, A.R. 8
Arora, V. 41 n. Fürer-Haimendorf, C. von 14, 16,
Aziz, B.N. 149, 246 n. 17, 127 n., 135, 155 n., 159–161,
324 n.
Barmiok kaji 50–51 n.
Basnet, L.B. 9 Garcia, J. 41 n.
Bellezza, J.V. 13, 14, 16, 147 n., 154, Goldstein, M.C. 247
157, 167, 372 Gorer, G. 7, 8, 17, 40 n., 46 n., 163,
Bentley, J. 41 n. 195 n., 225, 324 n., 372
Berglie, P.A. 3, 14, 17, 149, 150, 154, Gowloog, R.R. 8, 41 n.
158–159, 161, 372 Guru Tashi 65–66, 68–71
Bhasin, V. 41 n. Gyatso, T.A. 63 n.
Bhutia, Lopen Dugyal Acharya xiii, Gye Bumsa 68–71, 74, 78, 107 n.
33–35, 40, 45, 85, 126, 142, 146,
198, 200–201, 205–207, 229–233, Hobart, M. 29, 36, 373, 375
269 n., 292, 295, 299–300, 306 n., Höfer, A. 164
342–355, 358–365, 370, 373 Holmberg, D.H. 14, 36, 37, 163, 372
Blondeau, A.-M. and S.G. Karmay Hooker, J.D. 61 n., 223 n.
361 Humphrey, C. 17, 25, 164–167
Bobb, D. 65 n. Humphrey, C. and J. Laidlaw 36
Burghart, R. 35
Jest, C. 14
Caplan, L. xvi, 220
Chhoki, S. 371 Kapferer, B. 122
Chongpung Ajo Pawo 62, 94, 96, 145 Karmapa 26, 30, 59, 63, 83, 133–135,
n., 160 212, 258, 279, 295, 318–19, 330,
Collingwood, R.G. 29 375
Karmay, Samten, G. 15 n., 88, 97,
Dalai Lama 159 n. 313, 335–336 106, 110, 361
Das, S.C. 147 n. Kverne, P. 12
Day, S. 3, 14, 16, 20, 154, 158, 160,
161, 372 Lachen Gomchen 56–59, 61–62, 83
Desjarlais, R.R. 18 Lall, J.S. 48 n., 308 n.
Dhamala, R.R. 307 Lama Chime Radha Rinpoche 16, 18
Diemberger, H. 10 n., 11 n., 71, Lhatsun Namkha Jigme 22–23, 61 n.,
162 n., 198 n., 202, 323 n., 353–354 70 n., 88–90, 337
n., 372 Lessing F.D. 300 n.
Dodrupchen Rinpoche 62–63, 132, Levine, N. 222, 247
235, 297 Lewis, I.M. 15, 168
Dollfus, P. 259 n.
Dorji, Lham 13 n., 195, 259 n., 268 n. Maloney, C. 222
Dudjum Rinpoche 63 n. Michailovsky B. and P. Sagant 164
Morris, J. 8, 40 n.
Edgar, J.W. 46 n., 50 n. Mullard, S. 5 n., 23 n., 88 n.
Ekvall, R.B. 135 Mumford, S.R. 3, 18, 19, 25, 136,
Epstein, L. 373 163, 300 n., 372
396
Nakane, C. 8, 41 n., 46 n., 74, 214, 252
Namgyal, Chagdor 24, 60, 90, 108,
336, 381
Namgyal, Palden Thondup 65 n., 325,
336
Namgyal, Phuntsog 23, 69, 72
Namgyal, Tashi 7 n., 49 n. 51,
61 n., 176
Namgyal, Thutob and Yeshe Dolma
(History of Sikkim 1908) 24 n., 49 n.,
65–67, 69 n., 70–72, 86–89, 334
Namgyal, Wangchuk 65, 318, 336–337
Nebesky-Wojkovitz, R. von 13, 16, 70
n., 97, 110 n., 158–159, 162–163,
167, 195 n., 316
Oppitz, M. 71
Ortner, S.B. 3, 4, 14, 18–20, 26–27,
30, 31, 62, 88, 114, 158, 372
Paul, R. 18, 120 n., 128 n.
Pelgen, Ugyen 18 n.
Peter, Prince 14, 16, 154
Pocock, D.F. 222
Pommaret, F. 13 n., 22, 149 n.
Price, N.S. 376
Ramble, C. 10 n., 13, 18 n., 85 n.,
134 n., 193 n., 202, 284, 323
Reinhard, J. 14
Rigzin Godem 74 n., 88–89
Risley, H.H. 49 n., 66, 77
Rock, J.F. 66, 162
Rose, L.E. 9, 48 n., 49 n.
Sabatier-Bourdet S. 41 n., 308 n.
Sagant, P. 125–126, 164, 195 n.
names index
Sakya Lama Tshoda Gyatso 58–59,
83, 111 n., 197 n.
Samuel, G. 21, 22, 24, 28, 31, 41, 72,
85, 87, 88, 105, 114, 149–150, 206
n., 247, 273 n.
Schmid, T. 129 n., 160, 163
Sengupta, N. 9, 309
Shirokogoroff, S.M. 14
Siiger, H. 8, 41 n., 105 n., 195 n.
Silverstone, M. 62 n.
Sinha A.C. 9
Smith, W.W. 68, 71
Snellgrove, D.L. 13
Southwold, M. 30
Spiro, M.E. 30
Stein, R.A. 13, 66–67, 160, 213 n.
Steinmann, B. 41 n., 96 n.
Tambiah, S.L. 36
Tashi Lhamo 251, 313
Tateng Kaji, Gyaltsen T.S. 317 n.
Thekongtek 69, 316, 325
Tsam Khang Ajo 43, 45–47, 79, 201,
206, 224, 273, 284, 329, 363
Tshewang, Pema 76 n., 92 n.
Tucci, G. 12, 110 n.
Vandenhelsken, M. 41 n.
Vitebsky, P. 164
Yan, Yunxiang 259 n.
Yongda, Captain Sonam xiii, 317 n.
325, 333
Waddell A. 48 n., 110 n., 123 n., 182
n., 275, 317
White, J.C. 47–49, 61 n., 181 n., 183, 246
 GENERAL INDEX
Abbot (dorje lopen) 61–62, 201, 363
Absolute presupposition 29, 341
Address, terms of 48 n., 81, 259 n.,
269–270 n.
Adhiyā̃ see tenancy agreement
Agriculture (see also cardamom)
173–188
introduction of irrigated
cultivation 53, 174
slash and burn/shifting
cultivation 53, 173–175, 177
types of crops 185–188
types of fields 174–175
Ajo anyo 103–105, 134–136, 180–181,
194–197, 214
Ajo Dongbong 99, 104, 135, 194,
208–209, 284, 351, 355, 357
Aku pami 260, 262
Altars 94–102, 110–111, 154,
159–160, 166, 193, 195–200, 203,
208–210, 266–268, 271 n., 298–299,
346–347, 349, 355–357
Ancestors (see also pho lha mo lha)
69–71, 74–76, 77 n., 78–80, 96,
100–102, 161–165, 286–287, 345,
357, 374
lingering consciousness of see shindre
Ancestral gods/deities see pho lha mo
lha
Animal sacrifice/blood offering 10–11,
26, 69 n., 103, 115, 117, 128,
131–137, 155, 231, 257–258, 298,
353
Ashang 98, 259, 292–293
Bardo 273–274, 276–277, 279
Barmo see witchcraft
Beyul 23, 62, 86–93, 113, 207
Bhutan 7, 13 n., 22, 24, 69, 73, 77,
78, 80, 98, 258 n., 268 n., 371
Bhutia (see also Lhopo) 5–6, 8, 40 n.,
54, 71, 327, 331–332, 333 n., 334,
335 n.
Bhutia/Lhoke language 73, 229, 327,
328, 332, 338
Biatsi natsi see ritual
Birth see ritual: birth
Birth out of wedlock 260–261,
264–265 269 n., 290–291
Bon 11–13, 15, 30, 34–35, 59, 62,
93–96, 98, 106–108, 117–118, 136,
140–144, 157, 166, 201, 211, 214,
230, 258 n., 283, 295–300, 322, 325,
342–347, 353, 361, 374
Bon ban 11–12, 167
Bon-Buddhist relation see lamas:
relation with shamans
Bon paradises 102, 161, 274, 354–355,
363
Bon ritual specialists see pawo; nejum;
bongthing
Bon Tenpa Yab Yum see Shenrab
Bon texts 353, 355, 358–361
Bongthing 10–12, 126–127, 135–138,
141–142, 152–154, 167, 192–196,
202–203, 210, 219 n., 263–264,
298–299, 317, 322–326
Buddhism (see also ritual)
amiable co-existence with
shamanism 5, 17–18, 39–40, 42,
322, 325, 367–369
clerical and shamanic 21–25, 31
conventional 30
conversion to 9, 23, 88–89, 97, 109,
123, 198, 253, 334, 367
relation with bon/shamanism see
lamas: relation with shamans
village 30–31, 42, 143, 338, 342,
346, 350, 363–365, 370–371
Bumkor 59, 320–323, 335
Byāj see loans
Cardamom 5, 32–3, 45, 46–47,
53–6, 63, 104, 173–189, 210–211,
218, 230–233, 247, 250, 282, 310,
319–320, 327
Caves 91, 317
Cham monastic dances 9, 56, 108,
313–316, 325, 336
Cherkha see curses
China 45, 48, 66, 73, 353
Chirim 60, 321–324
Chong Gyepo see Kabur Kangtsen
Christianity 254, 312
398 general index
Chumbi Valley 6–7, 24, 68–69, 71–80,
96, 113, 161, 257, 374–375
Constitution of India 6 n., 8 n., 327
n., 328
Curses (cherkha) 10, 94, 99, 103, 104,
119–120, 122, 137, 141–142, 194,
197 n., 226–227, 284–287, 290
Dablha 98, 102, 316
Dadani see loans
Darjeeling 24, 45, 46, 50 n.
Death rituals see funeral
Degye 103, 105, 130–131, 143, 199,
202, 209, 300, 357
Deity/ies
ancestral/clan see pho lha mo lha
Buddhist/tantric 16, 29–30, 62,
86, 96–97, 107–110, 114, 123,
130, 140, 149, 159–160, 197, 199,
208–209, 362–363
local/territorial see nöpa
mountain see Kangchendzönga;
Masang Khyungdü; Kabur
Kangtsen
Demojong 6, 67–68, 90–91, 112–113,
234–237
Denjong Padma Choeling Academy
333
Denjongke see Bhutia/Lhoke language
Denjongpa 6
Divination (mo) 14, 99, 120, 124–125,
127, 130–132, 160, 167, 205, 270,
296 n., 329, 354
Divorce 269 n., 289–290
Dö 130–131, 358–359
Dorje Lopen see abbot
Drebon 11
Drib 27, 111, 118–119, 126, 264,
290–291, 351
Dü 105, 114, 121, 130, 136, 160,
229–233, 297–299
Duk see poison
Dzomkha see village meeting
Dzongu Lepcha reservation 7, 41 n.,
44–46, 49, 104, 184, 211, 223 n.,
317, 339
Education 54, 56, 63–64, 83–84, 248,
271 n., 326–331, 337, 365, 370
Electricity 55
Environment, wrongdoing against 93,
121, 123, 137, 216–217, 233–242
Epidemics 58, 63, 93, 133, 235
Estate/Elaka 43–44, 47–53, 61 n., 72,
82–83, 111–112, 176, 212–214, 246,
287, 314, 339
Evil eye (söndre) 119, 222
Fertility 13, 36, 37, 108, 212, 214, 261
Feud 100–101, 219, 282–288, 290
Forced/free labour 50–51, 83
Fraternal polyandry 247
Funeral 161, 164, 183–184, 245,
255–256, 273–281, 294, 299, 331
Gelong see lamas: celibate
Gift exchanges (see also registers)
212–213, 259–262, 265–267
Go 262
Gomchen 24, 56–59, 61–62, 64, 79, 83,
99–100, 140, 200–201, 204–207, 214
Gorkha invasion 33, 65, 334
Go sha nga 258
Gyari 262, 266–267
Gyepo 105, 130, 275, 286
Gyü see lineage
Ha Valley 6–7, 24, 74 n., 92 n.,
68–69, 72–76, 80, 92 n., 96–100,
113, 158, 169, 258 n., 374
Harvest rituals see ritual
Harvests’ supernatural owners 181,
190–191, 195–197, 210–211
Headman of the village ( pipon, ma al
and panchayat) 47, 50, 54, 55, 124,
133–134, 249, 283–285, 287, 289,
291, 305–312, 368
Hindu influences/conversion 49 n.,
253, 288, 291
Hospital/medical doctor 26, 33,
131–132, 138, 184, 229 n., 254, 292,
296–297, 301, 344
Hot springs 81, 87 n., 338
Household, as the centre of social and
religious life 33, 245–246, 255–256,
281, 301–302, 329–331, 339–340,
368–371
Hunting 44, 54, 85, 91, 121, 173,
188–191, 195, 210–211, 230–232,
347
Illness, as ritual domain of the
shamans 26, 28–30, 32, 130,
136–138, 143–144, 230
Inheritance 247–250, 282
Institute of Higher Nyingma
Studies 33, 63–64, 89 n., 328, 338,
343, 365
 general index
Jhā̃kri 131, 153, 221, 226, 287, 293,
300
Jitsen and sumtsen 261–262, 265–267
Kabab see pawo
Kabur Kangtsen (Chong Gyepo or
Northern King) 102, 112, 134 n.,
181, 196–203, 227, 287, 224
Kaji 24, 48–51, 72, 81–83, 212–213,
271 n., 316
Kangchendzönga 5, 23, 73, 85, 98,
123, 181, 202, 207–208, 322–323,
326, 351, 355, 357, 368
as Buddhist deity 88–91, 108–110
five peaks and its treasures 91
as national mountain deity 25, 115,
316–318
as pho lha/pre-Buddhist 69, 106–110
as witness god 69, 316
Kham Minyak see migration
Khandro 156, 199
Khelen 38–39, 93–94, 108, 127,
136, 192–193, 195, 197, 201–202,
207–209, 214, 263, 265, 291, 316,
323–325, 348–349, 368
Khim sa tashi 270–271
Knowledge, imparted from the
supernatural 11, 149, 153
Ku see tenancy agreement
Labyong 127–128, 142, 195, 322–324
Lamas
celibate ( gelong), in Sikkim 24, 28,
60–62, 65n., 372
demonstration 238–240
education/students 9 n., 63–65,
83–84, 271–272, 328–329,
337–338, 343, 365, 375–376
relation with shamans 4, 17–37,
37–40, 140–143, 117, 157–161,
295–302, 322–326, 338, 341,
342–345, 347, 349–355, 359–360,
362, 363–365, 367–368, 372–373,
375–376
Land Revenue Order No. 1 of 1917 8
n., 54, 335 n.
Land survey 47, 55, 175 n., 282
Landless servants 82–83
Landlordism see kaji
abolishment 47, 50
lessee system 48
Latsen 102, 105
Latsen Bagchia 102, 112, 122, 155,
181, 205–206
399
Lepchas see Dzongu
Letsen 47 n., 306 n.
Lha 105
Lhabon 11
Lhade mide 49 n., 61 n., 316
Lho men tsong sum 333–334
Lhoke see Bhutia
Lhopo (Bhutia), as a community 5–6,
9, 54 n., 60, 112–113, 115, 118, 133,
165, 178–179, 189, 214–215, 229,
234–235, 241, 245, 252, 254–255,
282, 305, 327, 331–333, 336–340,
369
origins and founding lineages
65–74, 361, 374–375
origins of Tingchim lineages 74–80,
374–375
regional differences 82
social classes 82–83
Limbu 5, 24, 51–56, 103–104,
125–126, 145, 153, 164, 176–181,
220–221, 225, 232, 252–253, 291,
307, 334–335
Lineage see Lhopo
Lineage exogamy 7, 71, 74–76, 79,
269 n.
Loans, illegal systems (byāj and
dadani ) 183–185, 220–221
Loshi gurim 213, 314
Losung/Losar 9, 212–213, 319, 321,
325, 337–338, 340
Lu 105
Lü 130, 275 n., 279, 283, 299
Lugsö 144, 283
Mamo 105
Ma al see headman
Mangchö 59, 332–334
Mangshila see Limbu
Mani lhakhang 54, 58, 59
Markets (Mangan and Dikchu) 81, 46,
181–185
Masang Khyungdü 73, 76 n. 98, 113,
153, 155, 219 n., 246, 257–258,
299–301, 249, 257
Masang shode 153, 257
Maternal uncle see ashang
Medical doctor see hospital
Meditation/mountain retreat (tsam) 24,
57, 64–65, 79, 105, 140, 206, 219,
286, 329, 336
Mendong 111, 320
Merchants (see also markets; loans) 6,
45, 181–185, 215, 250
400 general index
Migration from
Chumbi, Ha and Paro 6, 7, 71–80,
83, 92 n., 374–375
India see merchants
Kham Minyak 6, 65–68, 71, 74,
165, 374
Nepal 5, 33, 48–49, 50 n., 51–54,
73, 76, 79, 80, 112–113, 174,
176–181, 309, 333
Tibet 6, 59, 62–63, 76, 78–79, 87,
96, 286, 332–333
Mo see divination
Mo lha 97–98, 161, 145 n., 192,
346–347, 353–355, 374
Monarchy 5, 24, 54, 64, 108, 245,
255, 271 n., 313, 320, 331
Monastery
Dharma Chakra Centre at
Rumtek 9 n., 63–64, 133, 318,
328
Dorje Drak 60
Labrang 7, 52, 57, 79 n., 111, 280,
313
Mindroling 60
Pemayangtse 9 n., 15, 24, 41 n., 43
n., 49 n., 50 n., 60, 62, 82, 83, 108
n., 160, 207, 235, 315–317, 325,
336, 339–340
Phensang 7, 9 n., 43 n., 52, 82, 280
Phodong 7, 9, 32, 43–44, 47, 49
n., 51 n., 52, 56–58, 60, 64, 82,
111, 133–134, 205, 209, 212–213,
255, 272, 280, 287, 313–315, 321,
329–330, 339
Ralang 9 n., 43 n., 82
Rumtek 9 n. 43 n., 82, 280, 330
Sakya 58, 67–68
Silnon 88
Tashiding 9 n., 15, 82, 88, 91, 113
Tsurpu 60
Mongol (see also shaman: Daur
Mongol) 66–67, 71
Mountain deities see Kangchendzönga;
Masang Khyungdü; Kabur Kangtsen
Mukter 47, 51 n., 287, 308
Multi-faceted ritual system 36
Mustang 10 n., 18, 134 n., 193 n.,
202, 284, 323
Nagshang 10–11, 32, 83, 101, 137 n.,
198–199, 201–202, 209, 219, 363
Nam 269 n.
Namgyal Institute of Tibetology 63
Naxi/Na-Khi 162, 165
Ne (powerful sacred sites/locations/
landscape) 15, 23, 85, 88–93, 102,
110, 112–115, 207–210, 214–215,
228–229, 232–233, 234–240, 313,
316, 333, 338, 367–369
Nechung 16, 20
Negotiating with spirits 30, 128, 150,
157, 168, 230, 285, 370
Nejum see also pawo; shaman/
shamanism
new Tingchim nejum 155–156,
293–294, 338
Seyam nejum 145 n., 148, 160
Tingchim nejum 148, 151–152,
155–156, 204, 228, 257 n., 294,
295, 338, 345, 351, 375
Nepal see migration from Nepal
Nepalese settlement in North
District see tenant farmers
Nepali language 307, 327, 330
Nesol 23, 89, 93, 107, 108, 130, 141,
196, 201, 205–206, 207–210, 235,
239, 271, 276, 284, 285, 291, 318,
322–324, 363–364
New Year see Losung/Losar
Ngala see work exchange groups
Nöjin 105
Nöpa 10–11, 103–106, 111–112, and
chapter 4
Northern King see Kabur Kangtsen
Nyungne am 86, 140, 277, 320–321,
338
Oath 11, 46, 69, 87, 108, 137, 200,
317
OBCs (Other Backward Classes) 179,
334, 340
Oracle 3, 14, 16, 20, 153, 158, 160,
372
Palace/Palace chapel (see also
Tsuglakhang) 7 n., 9, 32, 43, 51,
60, 65 n., 56, 47, 64, 69, 108, 319,
145, 177, 209, 212, 255, 285, 308,
314–319, 322, 325, 332 n., 337, 339,
343, 368
Panchayat see headman
Pang Lhabsol 25, 69, 108, 209,
315–318, 339
Pangtö cham 108, 316
Pashi Pho lha 76, 77 n., 78, 80, 100,
102, 258 n.
Pawo (see also nejum; shaman/
shamanism; ritual: harvest) 3, 9–11,
 general index
13–17, 25, 29, 32, 41, 57, 59, 62,
93–94, 96, 99–102, 110, 145–146
annual retreat (tsamche) 95, 141,
145 n., 146, 155, 255, 297–298,
345–362
bätö headdress 147, 155, 160, 348,
351–352
descent line 146–150, 166
harvest rituals of biatsi natsi see
ritual
as ‘hero’ 16
independent of Buddhist
establishment 3–4, 16–17,
157–161, 372, 374
initiation ritual 20, 95, 146–147,
152–156, 158, 160, 257 n., 294,
338
kabab 15, 147, 149–150, 155,
165–166, 168
ri-nga headdress 157, 160–161, 348,
351
social position 151
testing 147, 150, 154–155, 159 n.
tutelary/helping/guardian deity 15,
16, 97, 147–150, 154–156, 158,
165–166, 168, 349, 360
Pawo Humri 74 n., 88, 202
Pho lha inhabiting the body 27, 102,
110–111
Pho lha mo lha ancestral gods (see also
ancestors; mo lha) 10–11, 37, 70,
93–102, 110, 123–24, 141, 153, 166,
168, 219 n., 282–284, 325, 347, 357
adoption/change of 76, 77 n., 78,
79, 80, 363, 374
and bon gods 13
chief of 97, 154
communication/interaction
with 102, 146, 154, 161–165, 297
cult/worship of 4, 73–74, 75, 106,
246
dangers related to 94, 100, 102
failing to honour 27
and identity 73, 114–115, 362
and lineage history 95, 70 n., 75,
374–375
as protectors and/or providers 10,
16, 26, 94, 103, 123–124, 143,
190–194, 257–258, 299–300, 374
pseudo- 100, 104, 122, 194, 197,
258 n., 292–293
representation as torma 75, 95–96,
100, 160, 209, 346
residence in bon paradises 14, 102,
401
151, 161–163, 274, 299, 354–355,
363, 374
rituals for see ritual: harvest; pawo:
annual retreat
as supernatural judges 24, 224,
284–285
of Tingchim lineages 76–80
and weddings 93–94, 263–264
Piake see ritual: birth
Pilgrimage 32, 60, 63, 81, 86, 87, 89,
91, 106, 113 n., 208, 313, 318, 338
Pipon see headman
Poison (duk)/poisoning accusations 46,
81 n., 103, 104, 119, 135 n., 218,
221–222, 223–226, 269 n., 293, 296
Powa 138, 273–274, 299, 263
Prayer hall see mani lhakhang
Rathong Chu hydro-electric
project 115, 216, 234–242, 337, 369
Red offering see animal sacrifice
Registers, use of 255, 259 n., 272,
273, 279, 281
Rigdzin Ne see bon paradises
Ritual
birth ( piake) 257–258
Buddhist (see also cham; Losung; Nesol;
Pang Lhabsol) 220–221
cardamom harvest 210
collective/joint (see also chirim; Pang
Lhabsol) 298–299
curing (see chapter 4) 229–231,
295–301
death see funeral
domestic see household, as the
centre of social and religious life
harvest rituals of biatsi, natsi,
Kongso 95, 107, 141, 146, 161,
191–203, 282, 325
house-building 270–271
hunting 210–211
lama initiation 271–272
lineage (see tsamche) 110
obligations see registers
wedding 258–269
Rü 75
Sacred hidden land/landscape see beyul
Sacred sites see ne
Saka Dawa 320
Scheduled Tribe status 54, 179 n.,
306, 326, 327 n., 332, 334–335
Secret knowledge 95, 153, 354
Serkyem 202, 207 n., 263, 277
402 general index
Shaman/shamanism see also pawo;
nejum; lamas: relation with shamans
Daur Mongol 17, 25, 165–169
Gurung 19, 163, 164
Ladakhi oracles 3, 14, 16, 20–21,
158, 160, 372
North Asian/Siberian 14–17,
165–169, 375
as master of spirits 14–17
Sherpa 3–4, 17–21, 26–27, 128 n.,
155 n., 160, 161, 372
and soul-flight/ritual journey 14–17,
354
as spirit-medium 13–16, 21,
157–158
in Tibet 13, 14, 16, 18–19, 21–22,
153–154, 157–158, 159, 165, 167,
372
among Tibetan refugees 3, 17,
149–150, 158–161, 372
Shamanic worldview 4, 19, 23–30,
33–34, 40, 42, 143, 169, 215, 230,
245, 281, 341, 362, 364, 367, 369,
371, 373, 376
Shang lha 98, 292–293
Shapten 120, 124, 127–128, 131, 230,
273, 300, 264
Shenrab 13, 98, 351, 353, 357
Sherpa (see also shaman/shamanism:
Sherpa) 54 n. 71, 73, 120 n.,
127 n., 135, 178, 223, 246 n., 252,
324 n., 333
Shey 275, 280, 297
Shindre 161–162, 294–301
Si-Hia kingdom 66–67
Sikkim’s integration/accession to
India 64, 248, 305, 309–310, 320
Social classes 82–83
Söndre see evil-eye
Soul loss 131, 300
Spirit medium/possession see
shaman/shamanism
State rituals 25, 60, 324–326, 331
Supernatural beings see deity; nöpa; pho
lha mo lha
importance of in Tingchim 85
Tamang 36, 96 n., 131, 163, 164,
178, 179 n., 181 n., 231–233, 253,
334–336, 372
Taming/subduing/subjugating 30,
86–91, 97, 107–109, 115, 133, 136,
143, 165, 197–198, 207, 316, 345,
350, 353 n.
Taxes 9, 47, 48 n., 49 n., 50, 51 n.,
83, 246, 287, 305–306, 308 n.
Television 55, 327
Tenancy agreements (adhiyā̃ and ku ) 48
n., 176
Tenant farmers 8, 48 n., 50, 51–54,
60, 84, 176–181, 189, 204, 212–213,
220–221, 229, 247, 291, 307–308,
311–312, 330, 368
origin in eastern Nepal 51–54, 176,
178 n.
Tendrel 28–29
Tibetan Rinpoches in Sikkim,
post-1950s influence 62–65, 83–84,
114–115, 133–135, 212, 318–319,
328–330, 375
Torgyap 137, 213, 218–219, 226, 227,
236, 286–287, 296, 314
Torma see pho lha mo lha: representation
as torma
Trade (see also cardamom; markets;
merchants) 45–46, 73
Treasures 86–91, 106, 109, 234, 286,
337
Tsam see meditation retreat
Tsamche see pawo: annual retreat
Tsen (see also latsen; Kabur
Kangtsen) 90, 98–99, 102, 103, 105,
111–112, 130, 135 n., 158, 159–160,
161 n., 191, 228, 229 n., 240, 275,
292, 324, 357, 358–359
Tsog 202, 208, 209, 318, 319, 338
Tsomen 105
Tsomi 47 n., 306
Tsong 178 n., 180, 214, 333–334
Tsong Goka 104, 180
Tsuglakhang (see also Palace chapel)
315, 317
Tulku 20, 57 n., 61, 119, 149–150
Tuso 256, 279
Village meeting (dzomkha) 8, 307–308,
310–312, 368
Village membership 33, 79, 255–256,
281, 311, 323, 368–269
Village religion 30, 34–35, 56–65, 84,
115, 117, 140, 142, 198, 214, 245,
302
Warrior god see dablha
Witchcraft (barmo) 119, 122, 126–127,
221–222, 225–226
Women working groups 175, 186,
188
 general index
Work exchange groups (ngala and
lapo) 8, 54, 55, 175–176, 189, 254,
256, 311, 312, 368
Yabdü 113, 202, 207, 316–318,
325–326
Yangku 265, 276–278, 325
Yarlung 96, 98, 166, 353 n., 355,
374
403
Yebā 153, 164, 221, 226–227
Yeti 105
Yidam 157, 160, 199–200, 208, 219, 363
Yum Machen Düsum Sangay 97–98,
166, 346–347, 353–355, 357, 359,
360
Za 105
Zung 134–135, 180–181, 229 n.
 Brill’s
Tibetan Studies
Library
ISSN 1568-6183

1. Martin, D. Unearthing Bon Treasures. Life and Contested Legacy of a Tibetan

Scripture Revealer, with a General Bibliography of Bon. 2001.
ISBN 90 04 12123 4
2/1 Blezer, H. (ed.). Tibet, Past and Present. Tibetan Studies I. 2002.
ISBN 90 04 12775 5
2/2 Blezer, H. (ed.). Religion and Secular Culture in Tibet. Tibetan Studies II. 2002.
ISBN 90 04 12776 3
2/3 Ardussi, J. & H. Blezer (eds.). Impressions of Bhutan and Tibetan Art. Tibetan
Studies III. 2002. ISBN 90 04 12545 0
2/4 Epstein, L. (ed.). Khams pa Histories. Visions of People, Place and Authority.
2002. ISBN 90 04 12423 3
2/5 Huber, T. (ed.). Amdo Tibetans in Transition. Society and Culture in the Post-
Mao Era. 2002. ISBN 90 04 12596 5
2/6 Beckwith, C.I. (ed.). Medieval Tibeto-Burman Languages. 2002.
ISBN 90 04 12424 1
2/7 Klimburg-Salter, D. & E. Allinger (eds.). Buddhist Art and Tibetan Patronage Ninth
to Fourteenth Centuries. 2002. ISBN 90 04 12600 7
2/8 Klieger, P.C. (ed.). Tibet, Self, and the Tibetan Diaspora. Voices of Difference.
2002. ISBN 90 04 12555 8
2/9 Buffetrille, K. & H. Diemberger (eds.). Territory and Identity in Tibet and the
Himalayas. 2002. ISBN 90 04 125973
2/10 Eimer, H. & D. Germano (eds.). The Many Canons of Tibetan Buddhism. 2002.
ISBN 90 04 12595 7
3. Pommaret, F. (ed.). Lhasa in the Seventeenth Century. The Capital of the Dalai
Lamas. 2003. ISBN 90 04 12866 2
4. Andreyev, A. Soviet Russia and Tibet. The Debacle of Secret Diplomacy, 1918-
1930s. 2003. ISBN 90 04 12952 9
5/1 Joseph, U.V. Rabha. 2007. ISBN-10: 90 04 13321 6,
ISBN-13: 978 90 04 13321 1
5/2 Opgenort, J.R. A Grammar of Wambule. Grammar, Lexicon, Texts and
Cultural Survey of a Kiranti Tribe of Eastern Nepal. 2004.
ISBN 90 04 13831 5
5/3 Opgenort, J.R. A Grammar of Jero. With a Historical Comparative Study of
the Kiranti Languages. 2005. ISBN 90 04 14505 2
5/4 Tolsma, G.J. A Grammar of Kulung. 2006. ISBN-10: 90 04 15330 6,
ISBN-13: 978 90 04 15330 1
5/5 Plaisier, H. A Grammar of Lepcha. 2006. ISBN-10: 90 04 15525 2,
ISBN-13: 978 90 04 15525 1
5/6 Turin, M. A Grammar of the Thangmi Language. With an Ethnolinguistic
Introduction to the Speakers and Their Culture. 2008.
ISBN 978 90 04 15526 8
5/7 Borchers, D. A Grammar of Sunwar. Descriptive Grammar, Paradigms, Texts
and Glossary. 2008. ISBN 978 90 04 16709 4
6. Achard, J.-L. Bon Po Hidden Treasures. A Catalogue of gTer ston bDe chen
gling pa’s Collected Revelations. 2004. ISBN 90 04 13835 8
7. Sujata, V. Tibetan Songs of Realization. Echoes from a Seventeenth-Century
Scholar and Siddha in Amdo. 2005. ISBN 90 04 14095 6
8. Bellezza, J.V. Spirit-mediums, Sacred Mountains and Related Bon Textual Traditions
in Upper Tibet. Calling Down the Gods. 2005. ISBN 90 04 14388 2
9. Bray, J. (ed.). Ladakhi Histories. Local and Regional Perspectives. 2005.
ISBN 90 04 14551 6
10/1 Beckwith, C.I. (ed.). Medieval Tibeto-Burman Languages II. 2006.
ISBN 90 04 15014 5
10/2 Klieger, P.C. (ed.). Tibetan Borderlands. 2006. ISBN-10: 90 04 15482 5,
ISBN-13: 978 90 04 15482 7
10/3 Cuevas, B.J. & K.R. Schaeffer (eds.). Power, Politics, and the Reinvention of Tra-
dition. Tibet in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries. 2006.
ISBN-10: 90 04 15351 9, ISBN-13: 978 90 04 15351 6
10/4 Davidson, R.M. & C.K. Wedemeyer (eds.). Tibetan Buddhist Literature and
Praxis. Studies in its Formative Period, 900–1400. 2006.
ISBN-10: 90 04 15548 1, ISBN-13: 978 90 04 15548 0
10/5 Ardussi, J.A. & F. Pommaret (eds.). Bhutan. Traditions and Changes. 2007.
ISBN-10: 90 04 15551 1, ISBN-13: 978 90 04 15551 0
10/6 Venturino, S.J. (ed.). Contemporary Tibetan Literary Studies. 2007.
ISBN-10: 90 04 15516 3, ISBN-13: 978 90 04 15516 9
10/7 Klimburg-Salter, D., Tropper, K. & C. Jahoda (eds.). Text, Image and Song in
Transdisciplinary Dialogue. 2007. ISBN-10: 90 04 15549 X,
ISBN-13: 978 90 04 15549 7
10/8 Heller, A. & G. Orofino (eds.). Discoveries in Western Tibet and the Western
Himalayas. Essays on History, Literature, Archaeology and Art. 2007.
ISBN 978 90 04 15520 6
10/9 Bulag, U. E. & H. G. M. Diemberger (eds.). The Mongolia-Tibet Interface.
Opening New Research Terrains in Inner Asia. 2007.
ISBN 978 90 04 15521 3
10/10 Schrempf, M. (ed.). Soundings in Tibetan Medicine. Anthropological and
Historical Perspectives. 2007. ISBN 978 90 04 15550 3
10/11 Barnett, R. & R. Schwartz (eds.). Tibetan Modernities. Notes from the Field on
Cultural and Social Change. 2007. ISBN 978 90 04 15522 0
11. Karmay, S.G. The Great Perfection (rdzogs chen). A Philosophical and Medita-
tive Teaching of Tibetan Buddhism. Second edition. 2007.
ISBN-10: 90 04 15142 7, ISBN-13: 978 90 04 15142 0
12. Dalton, J. & S. van Schaik. Tibetan Tantric Manuscripts from Dunhuang. A
Descriptive Catalogue of the Stein Collection at the British Library. 2006.
ISBN-10: 90 04 15422 1, ISBN-13: 978 90 04 15422 3
13. Pirie, F. Peace and Conflict in Ladakh. The Construction of a Fragile Web of
Order. 2007. ISBN 978 90 04 15596 1
14. Kapstein, M. T. & B. Dotson (eds.). Contributions to the Cultural History of Early
Tibet. 2007. ISBN 978 90 04 16064 4
15. Thargyal, R. Nomads of Eastern Tibet. Social Organization and Economy of
a Pastoral Estate in the Kingdom of Dege. Edited by Toni Huber. 2007.
ISBN 978 90 04 15813 9
16/1 Tarr, M. A. & S. Blackburn. Through the Eye of Time. Photographs of Aruna-
chal Pradesh, 1859-2006. 2008. ISBN 978 90 04 16522 9
17. Balikci, A. Lamas, Shamans and Ancestors. Village Religion in Sikkim. 2008.
ISBN 978 90 04 16706 3
18. Achard, J-L. Enlightened Rainbows. The Life and Works of Shardza Tashi
Gyeltsen. 2008. ISBN 978 90 04 16823 7
19. Childs, G. Tibetan Transitions. Historical and Contemporary Perspectives on
Fertility, Family Planning, and Demographic Change. 2008.
ISBN 978 90 04 16808 4