The Himalayan Nomads Crossing the Last Forbidden Kingdom Free Documentary YouTube

In the very depths of the Himalayas lies an ancient kingdom where horses are absolutely essential to man's survival. Although they are worked hard they're revered as gods. Each summer a festival is dedicated to the horse in these high altitude villages and then at the start of winter the horses are brought down in great herds to the southern territory where the weather is milder. It's to these mountains we are taking you. Mustang, an ancient kingdom situated in the north of Nepal was for many years thought of as forbidden territory for foreigners until 1992. Lomantang is its historic capital situated on the borders of the Tibetan Himalayas at nearly 4,000 meters altitude. Here it's summer the month of August and horses and mules work in the fields and carry equipment for trekkers. The whole province is preparing for the Yatung, a three-day festival to celebrate the end of the summer and where the horse is the guest of honour. The lamas bless each house and families and neighbours invite each other in. It's time to enjoy a good meal washed down with chang, the oat-based spirit. The horses who normally work non-stop are now pampered. Each family breaks out its finest saddles for the occasion. Taktu is a rather special vet, a sort of traditional doctor who works only with horses. When I look at a horse I make sure the body is trim, the feet and hooves solid and the head and the ears well aligned. The general shape is the most important thing. Taktu uses very ancient tools mainly for bloodletting. Sometimes he uses a few plants but never medicines. His skills came to him from the king, a great specialist in this domain. This is for the tongue. I don't give any medicine to the horses, I use only these tools to treat them. And this is for the inside of the palate. This is for the horse's feet, just above the hoof. Gyatso Bista is an amshi, a traditional physician recognised over a large area of the Himalayas. He treats using plants he collects in the mountains. His knowledge and skill make him also a village chief. Having taken the pulse of his patients in six or seven different ways, he can make a diagnosis and give them the appropriate remedies. Babu has come to see him because as the festival of Yachtung approaches, he wants to be in top form on his horse. People here all think that horses are gods. If a horse costs 2,000, 3,000 or 4,000 euros, it's worth the investment because these horses are really gods and that will improve our lives. We will live longer and be successful. Actually this one is used only during the festival time only. Other times they put another set for the horse. I don't know, the gold plated is very expensive and local handmade, mostly this one is. Now it's very rare to find such type of horse set in this area. Because some of them are already sold as a souvenir for the tourists who are interested, only a few people have this set. It makes the horse very beautiful and riding on it is very comfortable compared to others. The royal palace has suffered the rigours of time and recently earthquakes. The king and queen, now elderly, live in Kathmandu, but they are still revered. To mark the opening of the festival, the families close to the king, after prayers and chanting, will lead the procession. The royal couple are represented by a photo. Before they arrive at the meadow where the festival takes place, the dignitaries will stop at the end of the village in front of a group of women who chant and receive a blessing. There are members of the same family or several families in each tent. Tea and especially Chang flow freely. Of the three days of the festival, the first day is dedicated to the members of the royal family, the second day to the women and the third to the monks. Pema Ngotuk is the king's bodyguard. He also looks after all his horses. For our horses, what's important for me is the quality of the feet and even more important, their origins. The best ones are those that come from the Chinese border at Yazoo. Those are very good. The atmosphere becomes more and more festive as the afternoon goes on. Songs and dances come thick and fast. At sunset, the most vigorous among them race towards the centre of the village. It's the moment everyone has been waiting for. Once the dignitaries are in place in the main street, riders challenge each other in improvised races. These horses are very robust. They're bred for moving around at high altitude and because of the rough terrain, they're more efficient at trotting than at galloping. After the races, the riders must knock terracotta targets off a wall. The most impressive test is to pick up a katak from the ground at full gallop. The third and final day of the Yatung is dedicated to the monks of the three monasteries of Lo Mantang. Horses are often considered as gods because in our history, it is often said that the gods travelled on horseback. They found them very useful. The whole population gathers in the principal monastery to place offerings, kataks, and to share a meal and sing together. Before the Yatung festival, the monks observe a 45-day retreat during which they eat only two meals a day and don't leave the monastery. They spend much time praying and meditating. They're completely isolated and for them, Yatung marks the end of this period. They have one day dedicated to them in order to celebrate the end of the retreat. After the same ritual as the previous days, only the monks go to the meadow. For the younger ones, in spite of the cool wind, it's all about enjoying the last fine days of summer. We are now at the beginning of November and the snow has covered the high Himalayan peaks for a while. Lo Mantang is gradually preparing for the winter. A large part of its population will leave the village to go south, even as far as Kathmandu for the wealthier ones, to escape the rigors of the very low temperatures and the snow, which blocks all movement for several weeks. Each family elects one member who will stay to feed the livestock and look after the house. The harvesting is finished. The wood is stacked on the roofs. At night, the freezing temperatures become more and more harsh. The horses, for their part, are resting, having worked very hard in the fields, bringing in the harvest and carrying heavy loads. Some farmers are only just finishing the plowing. The basic source of heating in Mustang is yak or cow dung that's collected after it has dried out. It provides a precious fuel all through the winter. The horses are not the only ones to carry heavy loads. The women work just as hard as the men. Before the snow arrives, they take time to crush aromatic herbs. In spite of the fact that more and more cheap western clothing is replacing traditional costumes, the women especially enjoy wearing woolen dresses that they make themselves. Tashi is going to Namgyal, his native village high up above Lomantang. He is one of those who went to Kathmandu to study and to work with foreigners. And he's always trying to help his region to advance while conserving its heritage and culture. His sister and mother are still here, but his father has already left to spend the winter in Kathmandu. Tashi hopes to persuade his mother to let their horse go south for the winter. I lived here until I was nine years old, full time, and all around the year. The winters, everything else was very nice and easy. The winters were especially very difficult. But then, to be honest, when you're a kid, you don't feel as much as when you're an adult. And when I was much later, when I grew up more, then I realized how cold it really was. You spend the whole winter with, like, cracked lips and, like, torn skin and, like, snow blindness. And then your parents are putting raw meat and, like, wheat molds on your eyes to get the snow blindness out and things like this. And, like, you go out and, like, eat snow and, like, icicles because there's no running water in most places. And then you get ill sometimes. All you had to focus on was keeping warm, feeding yourself, you know, and working to run the family. And you didn't have all these distractions like electricity, phones and, like, TVs, roads, internet and all these things. I realize it now, you know. Every year, like, the people of Mustang, they take their best horses, not all the horses in Mustang, but some selected horses all the way to Pokhara, crossing all the mountain passes to a much warmer place with enough, like, temperature, comfortable temperature and so that they don't lose a lot of strength. And we used to do, before we had many horses, but now we sold all of them and we have only one. And my family used to take this horse with the other horses to Pokhara all the time. Except last year. And last year, they did not take this horse. And when they came back, they saw that the horse was, like, so skinny and about to fall. So we said we're not taking any more chances because this is the only horse that we ride. So we're taking it down. In the town, they're starting to select the horses that will go south. The men who will be responsible for leading them through the passes are called horsemen. They inspect each horse. To estimate their age, they look at the teeth. Yes, this one is about 16 years old. Many of the horses have damaged shoes. Others have none at all. Lopsang, the blacksmith, has plenty of work to do. We check each horse's shoes. They don't all have them. But in particular, those that will be ridden, we check their shoes. If they're broken or worn, then we change them before the migration. In Mustang, the horses, especially when they're in groups, are guided by whistles and mouth noises. Tamding will explain some of them. If you do this, that makes the horse stop. This is to make it walk on. And this to make it drink. And if you want the whole group to drink, it's a long whistle. Lopsang's wife prepares tea and flavours it in the traditional way with yak butter, which gives the infusion a stronger taste. Pema Angia is one of Tashi's uncles. He is close to the royal family and in his courtyard is the oldest tree in Lomantang. Pema is a horse dealer. He has sold, bought, and exchanged more horses than anyone in the region. Each time that Pema sells a horse, he carries out a rather curious ritual. One of the most important points I look at in a horse is the tuft on the forehead. The higher it's positioned and centred, the better the horse. Tamding has left in the night to go far into the mountain to find enough yak, cow, and goat dung to heat his house through the winter. We have a special relationship with horses. They are so useful to us for carrying wood, equipment, for going to the fields, bringing back mud for house construction, helping to build them. They are a part of our everyday lives. He and his horses will be taking a rest now because according to the monks from the monastery, tomorrow is the most favourable day to start the migration. Despite the fact that there's no real road to go down to Jomsol and then on to the south, some lorries and tractors take the risk of following the tracks. For the last few years, they've taken an active role in the winter migration of Lomantang. Incense burning by the doors of the houses, people assembling luggage and horses. These are the unmistakable signs that the migration is underway. However, many families will leave the village in collective taxis, robust 4x4s, prepared to tackle the rock-strewn tracks and passes. Tamding is the one responsible for leading a herd of nearly 40 horses. He will be accompanied by four other horsemen to help him. There are many prayers and offerings and kataks. These coloured scarves symbolise good luck wishes for their owners. Oat grains thrown towards the altar will also help to bring them luck. I'm blessed with scarves, blessed by the monastery and the monks. For like all the good luck and for like the horse to not be ill and have a very good life. Off they go for six or seven days travel to the south. They have hardly left the village when they come to the first passes they must cross. The first one is a mere 4,500 metres high. Their picnic snack will be of dried yak meat and equally dry goat cheese. On the horizon stand the Annapurnas, peaks of 8,000 metres that are legendary in the history of mountaineering. In the past, the Low Kingdom, as Mustang was known, was always independent. It occupied a strategic position for trade between the Himalayas and India. The inhabitants were always very close to Tibet in their language, culture and religion. I mean these days it would be politically incorrect to say that I'm Tibetan, but then we do share a lot of like similarities in terms of culture and religion with left Tibet and we don't feel difference between like either of these two places, you know. So we feel like we're like one part of a whole big community. The Lo Gekau Monastery is one of the oldest in the whole region, dating from the 8th century. After prayers, the team will light candles to bring them luck on the journey. In the old days, the migration went to the Great Plains of Tibet before the Chinese closed the frontier. I never knew that time when they took the horses to Tibet for the migration, but our parents did. Fortunately, the weather is cold and sunny. If it had snowed in these complicated sections of the route, it would be truly dangerous. Up against the imposing cliffs of Dakhmar, one can see in the rock face the remains of troglodyte habitations, which also served as places of meditation for holy men. These days, only the vultures come here. They arrive late at the village of Gemi. The various ascents have left their mark. All in all, the day was quite easy, a beautiful day. But if we had managed to leave earlier, it would have been better. Normally, we don't arrive as late as this. Tashi and his horsemen take the horses to the meadows on the mountainside, where they'll spend the night. At dawn, everyone is up and about in spite of the cold. The horses must be rounded up after roaming free all night. We give them all maize and oats every morning, every day. Mostly the horses are named after their colors. So we have like blue. I mean, like blue might not be a totally blue horse, but rather grayish, you know. We have like maroon, brown, black. My horse is just called, the translation would be blue. So it's called blue. We are still at nearly 3,800 meters altitude, but the sun will soon warm the air. The men will soon get even warmer because as they leave the village, there will be a steep ascent to get over the pass. According to Tibetan Buddhism, the wind which blows on prayer flags at the summits caresses printed sacred writings as it passes, sending them into space and thus transmitting them to the gods and to all those it touches as it blows. Tea remains a welcoming ritual whenever they pass through a village. And it's also an opportunity to get warm at the house stove and to take a rest. When the horses are at home and not working, we give them water once in the morning and once in the evening. But now we are traveling, they can drink when they like. The foals that tended to go in all directions in the first few days have calmed down now, which makes work easier for Tamdung and his friends, especially when the paths become very narrow. After the village of Siang Boche, the passes follow one upon another, but the group is still at high altitude, the next stage being at 3,600 meters. At the end of the afternoon, even though the distant summits are blocked, it has still not snowed. However, lifted by gusts of wind, a fine dust which penetrates everywhere makes progress difficult for the whole team. The villages in these valleys are often perched on promontories. The ascent to the next village of Samar is fairly easy, but requires great effort after the rigors of the day. In Mustang, everyone knows each other. Either with cousins or with friends, it's easy to find a roof for the night and an enclosure for the animals. Each one must look after his animals. Yes, but how much is a horse like that worth? Okay, the white horse can be left free. Good, we can go and rest. We won't give him any more grass now, will we? The passes are difficult. Sometimes we have problems, especially when there's snow. The horses find it hard to get through. It gets slippery and horses can even be injured. Here, we're with a large group. It can happen that we travel with only a few horses belonging to one or two families. That makes it much easier. It snowed last night on the peaks. By a stroke of luck, the sky has cleared in time to face the dangerous passage of Chile, a path cut into the cliff face over a ravine where a possible fall doesn't even bear thinking about. It's a great relief to arrive on the banks of the river Cali-Gandaki. Everything has gone well. During the summer, in monsoon season, crossing the river would have been impossible. When it has frozen even more in about two weeks' time, lorries will drive on the partly dried riverbed towards the north of Mustang. I've been doing this migration for more than 20 years. Before, perhaps five or seven years ago, we had 500 horses just in Lomangtang, and there were more than 300 to migrate to the south. This year, there'll be only 80 to 85. The next staging post is Jomsol, the capital of Lower Mustang. We'll have to follow the river for several dozen kilometres, right in the teeth of the wind. From here on, it's much easier. The tracks are wider because they also serve cars and lorries, but when we have to pass them, it can become complicated. As far as Jomsol, it's easy, but there's still a difficult stretch before we get to Pokhara. At 2,700 metres altitude, the scenery changes. On the banks of this tributary of the Ganges at Chugsan, they're still harvesting cereal crops. The arrival at Jomsol is a joyful, disorganised affair. Motorbikes and 4x4s now share the roads. If the horses will disappear in Mustang, and that fear is there because the road is coming, people are using more like jeeps and motorbikes and things, but then I think the horses won't disappear because there are some things that only horses can do, like go to mountain and get dung and things like this. I fear that someday they will disappear, but not so soon. Maybe the migration will get lesser and lesser. I mean, like we see, we have examples that it is already getting lesser and lesser now. The north face of the Nilgiri towers 7,000 metres above Jomsol. Trees and forests appear. There's more room for manoeuvre. Here, too, the seasons are disrupted. The monsoon is unpredictable, and the water levels in the river are low. Now it's the turn of another Himalayan giant to set the scene. That Dolagiri, the seventh highest peak in the world at 8,167 metres. Apart from one or two passes, the hardest part is over for this migration. Now they just have to manage long stretches of track used by more and more lorries. And in a few days, they will arrive at Pokhara, the end of their journey, which some families have already reached. The peaceful banks of the lake await them in balmy weather. Pokhara is a beautiful place. It's sunny and warm. There's plenty of grass. I love it. But we can't set the horses free just anywhere. We have to stick to the meadows where they are taken. For us, it will be a state school that has wonderful fields that we can hire. The horses that have already arrived are enjoying this garden of Eden and seem to sense the coming of a nice, warm winter. The coming of the road will surely, like, it is already starting to decrease the number of horses that people keep. But still, I don't think it will be completely out of horses. People, because just for the fact, just for the sake of, like, having horses as a part of culture, as a part of, like, something that was always in our environment, something that we spend our lives with, I think they will always be there, even if less, you know.