The people of the “worm grass” at the foot of zla ba ri ‘adzan

ཟླ་བ་རི་འཛན་ (Wylie: zla ba ri ‘adzan)

ཟླ་བ་རི་འཛན་ (Wylie: zla ba ri ‘adzan) is the most important "sacred mountain" for the people in its area, and it can be said that the families surrounding zla ba ri ‘adzan depend on her for their "livelihood”. In this area, everyone including elders in their seventies to those as young as six years old knows about zla ba ri ‘adzan and worships it as the people of the “worm grass”.  Worm grass is also known as caterpillar fungus, ophiocordyceps sinensis (synonym Cordyceps sinensis). The people here believe that zla ba ri ‘adzan will "nurture" caterpillar fungus and thereby provide for its people. When they are overcome by the amount of fungus procured, they say, "Today, the zla ba ri ‘adzan has blessed me with a bounty of worm grass". When unable to find any trace of the fungus, they pray to zla ba ri ‘adzan for its presence. When the children do not dig up a full quantity of the fungus before returning home from a day in the mountains, they pray to zla ba ri ‘adzan for the portion they desired and lacked. It can be said that zla ba ri ‘adzan’s mountains and waters have nurtured the people here, and have raised generations of “worm grass people”. 

གཡང་ཤོད་ཁ (Wylie: gyang shod kha)

The caterpillar fungus on zla ba ri ‘adzan

The caterpillar fungus is not just a common fungus for the local people, but a point of origin and source to sustain a whole economy as well as everyday living expenses. It is the “grass of life” for the people surrounding zla ba ri ‘adzan.

“sacred grass” - དབྱར་རྩྭ་དགུན་འབུ་ (lit. winter worm summer grass)

The harvesting of caterpillar fungus takes place each year between May 15 and July 1. On May 13, the people at the foot of zla ba ri ‘adzan depart together to the place of harvest, also known as —གཡང་ཤོད་ཁ (Wylie: gyang shod kha). Only 13 families collectively harvest this area, mostly relatives totalling 45 people or thereabouts.

According to the people who have lived in this area for more than 60 years, there has never been so much caterpillar fungus as in the last 20 years. This year, people with good eyesight can dig up to three hundred pieces, and families with more capacity for  labour can dig up several catties. If these families can sell a catty for 70,000 to 80,000 RMB, they yield a great profit. So thank you, zla ba ri ‘adzan, and thank you, worm grass!

Harvested caterpillar fungus is sold on a per-catty basis to local merchants. Each catty holds approximately 1,700-1,800 pieces of fungus, or 1,500-1,600 pieces, if considered of good quality. Therefore, the quality of the fungus is important to the people who harvest the "sacred grass" as well as to its merchants. Indications of quality include size of fungus and purity of colour. Those who have lived on zla ba ri ‘adzan for more than half of their lives know worm grass like the back of their hand, and those who have the gifts for a good harvest are deemed “worm grass specialists” by the local people. These "experts" have a clear sense for which areas the fungus may grow, at which times of year, and of what quality they derive. Moreover, with every year, these "experts" dig out the most fungus and sell their harvest at the highest price.

The local people bewildered once asked me, "Where is caterpillar fungus sold? Only the rich can afford to eat it." I explained to them that the fungus is not only ingested, but also used in medicines and cosmetics, as well as in alcohol. Jokingly they also said, "It seems the prices here are all wholesale prices, whereas in Hong Kong, a catty can sell for around 300,000 RMB. Can you look into that for us?" I responded playfully to say"Yes, I will go to Hong Kong to look at the prices of worm grass after I finish my research!”

The people of the sacred grass 

The people harvesting "sacred grass" of this area are nomads who have been living at the foot of Mount zla ba ri ‘adzan, and up until 20 years ago, apart from digging "sacred grass", also practised animal husbandry and livestock farming. However, in the early 21st century, as the price of caterpillar fungus increased dramatically, the people living in this area began to "give up" their livestock for life in county towns and large cities. Most of them have settled in nearby county towns and in Lhasa, and return every year to harvest caterpillar fungus. Most of the people who participate in harvests were born in the 1960s and 1970s, with a selection born in the 1980s and 1990s.

The people of the sacred grass have not had the opportunity to take part in formal education systems, and most are illiterate. One of the more tired groups of sacred grass people are primary and secondary school students. The summer vacation period for children attending school in local prefectures takes place from May 10 through July 1, the same time they must harvest sacred grass.  Therefore this period is locally known as the “worm grass vacation.” At this time, children around six years of age will go up the mountain to dig caterpillar fungus, earning with their two hands. A child here will likely grow up feeling more tired than others elsewhere of their age. However, they will also mature through this work, and will engage family responsibilities early, as well.

The 7 year old representative from the people of the sacred grass

I would often talk to the sacred grass children during their periods of rest. When I asked where in the world they might like to go, children in primary school would name Lhasa. I was puzzled. I thought they might say Beijing, Shanghai, Chengdu, or other cities in China yet to discover, but I realised then that most of these children might not know other cities exist. A girl who had visited Shanghai during an organised primary school trip said, "I want to go back to Shanghai.” Most of the children, apart from those whose families have the means to visit Lhasa during winter vacation, have never left the sky above their heads.

When I asked, "What do you want to do in the future?", most of the children responded similarly, with ‘a teacher’ or ‘a doctor’. When I asked why, they answered in unison saying their parents noted that becoming teachers and doctors would help with finding a job. I was surprised by the "forward-thinking" nature of these primary and secondary school students.

Whilst chatting with some of the boys in junior high school, I asked what they would do if they didn't get into high school, and laughed upon receiving their response. They said,"Well, we won’t go to school then!  Instead, we’ll start a worm grass business!"

Many local parents would say that it does not matter if their boys do well in school, as they can always take part in local business. The expectations for girls remain higher. Whilst speaking to some of the girls in junior high school, a question they posed had me thinking. They asked, "Sister, why are girls more tired on almost every occasion? Not only must they harvest sacred grass, but so much more work awaits them when they return home. Why aren’t the same expectations placed upon boys? Moreover, why is it that mothers here mostly prefer sons? Must we be more obedient and better than our male counterparts in order to be loved equally by our mothers?” When I heard these words, I was at a loss for how best to answer, and also amazed by these ten year old girls and their thinking.  I still don’t quite know how to answer their question.

left: the long awaited snow by our children; right: the children's snowman

During harvest season, the sacred grass children look forward to resting periods between their harvests. Here on zla ba ri ‘adzan, vacations fall on the  10th, 15th, and 30th of the Tibetan calendar month. It is also not possible to work when it is snowing or raining. That said, every child here prays for snow in the morning before going to bed each night!

During short vacations, several families will drive to the county town to buy vital supplies and food. The women stay behind to do laundry and clean the house. Most of the children like to go along into the county town. Since there is no signal and no internet in the mountain, the children are reluctant to stay behind without access during their vacations.

The wild vegetables at the foot of zla ba ri ‘adzan — རུག་པ (wylie: rug pa)

Those who stay by zla ba ri ‘adzan collectively go to the riverside waterfront to wash their clothes and forage for རུག་པ (wylie: rug pa), an edible wild vegetable. They also sit together and play games on the grass fields. When nearby roads are flooded by successive storms, everyone works together to repair the roads with great care and fortitude.

The people of zla ba ri ‘adzan come together like one big family, sharing in joys and struggles. In the event of misfortune, such as disease or death, the people cease their harvesting activities and in turn contribute however best they can to the cause. This collective spirit comes through the belief that they are all zla ba ri ‘adzan’s  children and therefore share in a common memory.

In the mountains and fields, the friendships between people stand strong in heart and mind, like zla ba ri ‘adzan before them. Furthermore, the memories of the people, like the small streams that flow from zla ba ri ‘adzan, are passed down in the minds of the གཡང་ཤོད་ཁ (Wylie: gyang shod kha) peoples. 

the people of གཡང་ཤོད་ཁ (Wylie: gyang shod kha), working hard to build the road.

Conflicts between the sacred grass people and the sacred beasts 

In the local context, “sacred grass people" are committing to a "high-risk occupation". This is because they are threatened not only by the "dragons" in the sky, but also by dangers brought by brown bears, both sacred beasts of zla ba ri ‘adzan. On the mountain, people refer to lightning as the wrath of the Dragon, or the force that has angered the sacred zla ba ri ‘adzan. Alongside, hail on zla ba ri ‘adzan is regarded as an unsettling event. Therefore, on འཛམ་གླིང་སྤྱི་བསང་ (Wylie: ‘adzam gling spyi bsang, World Smoke Offering Day), zla ba ri ‘adzan receives acclamation through ceremonies, and highly respected local monks are invited to offer བསང་ཡིག (Wylie: bsang yig, sacred text to honour zla ba ri ‘adzan. “May zla ba ri ‘adzan protect their children from attacks by the sacred dragon!”

I heard a story from the local people about an incident that occurred 20 years ago, where lightning caused sudden death to a local person. Thus, people in this area are highly sensitive to lightning. As aforementioned, this is an area where there is no signal, no data network, and no electrical equipment to forecast weather. Therefore, people here continue to follow a traditional way of forecasting the weather, where a reading of the morning and evening sky comes to determine a day’s forecast.

smoke offering to zla ba ri ‘adzan

In this place, apart from the fear of being attacked by sacred dragons, people are most frightened by zla ba ri ‘adzan’s sacred animal, the brown bear. In recent years, due to the frequency of human-bear conflicts, confrontations between brown bears and humans have attracted more and more attention. With my first day on site, at around 6:30 a.m., I heard a woman who had woken for morning work say that a large brown bear had arrived, and that she and others had to run back to their own homes. I immediately got up and went out with my camera. The brown bear left slowly and leisurely, and was by then reaching the riverside. During that time,  the local people told me that the brown bear hid in the mountains by day and would come down at night to look for food at their homes. As a result, everyone was afraid to go out to relieve themselves at night, especially those living in tents, all adding up to difficult nights of sleep. There was also a local tale about a father and daughter encountering a brown bear whilst harvesting for fungus in the mountains. Luckily they both reacted quickly, and there were no attacks. The presence of brown bears brings challenges to the local people during harvest season, and they feel it best to move in groups, and not harvest alone.

A brown bear knocking at the door in the morning

Although the sacred grass people hold caution toward sacred beasts in the span of their 40 days of harvest, the people who live nearby always believe that zla ba ri ‘adzan will protect them. Mount zla ba ri ‘adzan is the sacred mountain that towers in the hearts of people of gyang shod kha, and they are grateful to her for having nurtured generations of “sacred grass people" and gyang shod kha for generations to come. On account that all originate from zla ba ri ‘adzan, no one has ever thought to climb and conquer her summit, and instead have always gazed upon her majesty from a distance - from the foot of the mountain!

zla ba ri ‘adzan and me

This translation is made possible through relations that support an artist in place.

Text: Skyid Dar ‘adzoms

Translation: Shen Xin

Copyediting: Ali Van