One woman for three men
“To expect a woman to marry more than one man is excessive,” says Rinchen Kalon, the entrepreneur behind The Kyagar boutique hotel in Ladakh, North India, with a mischievous smile. “But to expect her to marry three men who are also brothers is downright cruel.” Rinchen bursts into cheerful laughter but quickly becomes serious as she describes the phenomenon of polyandry, once common in Ladakh. When a father didn’t have enough land to divide among all his sons, they would inherit the land collectively and marry the same woman. This practice prevented the land from being divided into plots too small to sustain the family and allowed the agricultural workload to be shared among several men. The growing season at an altitude of over 3,500 meters is short, with temperatures dropping to minus thirty degrees Celsius in winter, halting all agricultural activity. As a result, during summer, the entire family would work together efficiently and quickly on the same plot of land.
For those who romanticize the idea of a woman wielding power over multiple men, don’t be misled. This is a patriarchal society where several men share one wife. They all live in the same house, but it is the men who own the land and rights. Although polyandry is rare in Ladakh today, its impact lingers. However, the central role of women in the Ladakhi family has fostered strong, resilient women. Many young women in Ladakh are now leaving traditional agriculture behind, eager to break free from the constraints of patriarchy and establish their own businesses—businesses that will employ women only, as they firmly believe in supporting one another. Here are two fascinating stories we encountered during our recent visit to Ladakh, North India.
From Boarding School to Entrepreneur
Rinchen Kalon was born into a family whose roots trace back to the Nubra Valley, a stunning region located 117 km from Leh along the ancient Silk Trade Route—a highlight of any trip to Ladakh, North India. At just five years old, Rinchen was sent to boarding school in North India, returning to the Nubra Valley only at the age of 26. At that time, Ladakh lacked high-quality schools, so parents seeking a good education for their children often sent them outside the region. This long period away from home made Rinchen independent and self-reliant. She completed her college education in Delhi, earned an MBA in Bangalore, and worked at an investment bank. When she heard that Ladakh was becoming a growing tourist destination, she and her partner were drawn back to the Nubra Valley to establish themselves there.
Rinchen’s father owned a small hotel in Leh, and she initially helped manage it. However, she dreamed of creating a place where tourists could fully immerse themselves in the essence of Ladakhi life. She and her partner purchased a barren plot of land in the Nubra Valley and decided to build a hotel that would seamlessly integrate with the local ecology. They limited construction to only about a third of the area, ensuring that the hotel blended harmoniously with its surroundings. The rooms were designed with local materials, including red clay from Basgo village instead of paint, and woven carpets from the region. The property is powered by solar energy, and the food is sourced from nearby villages.
Building a hotel in an urban area would have been easier and more profitable, but Rinchen’s passion lay in returning to her roots in the Nubra Valley. The challenges were significant: at that time, there was no organized cellular infrastructure in the valley. To order even basic supplies like nails, Rinchen had to travel to a neighboring village and find the one spot with cellular reception. Skilled professionals were scarce in the valley, so they had to be brought in from Leh. The electricity supply was unreliable, often requiring the use of a generator to keep construction going. These difficulties caused the project to take much longer than planned. For Rinchen, the hotel is still a work in progress, with new projects each year—like the recent construction of a greenhouse to grow vegetables even during the cold months of spring and autumn.
While her husband, Stanzin Gurmet, is a co-founder, Rinchen is the driving force behind the project, her persistence and determination likely shaped by the many years she spent as an independent child away from home.
Dishes from the Silk Road
Ladakh has always been a part of the Silk Road, with countless merchants passing through, exchanging goods with traders from distant lands. When designing the kitchen, they knew they wanted to honor the region’s culinary diversity, preserving both the flavors brought from afar and the traditional cuisine of Ladakh. The menu changes daily on a three-day cycle, offering Tibetan cuisine, Kashmiri Indian cuisine, and Far Eastern cuisine.
Ladakh cuisine at Hotel Kyager
Here, It’s the Women Who Run Things
“I feel very lucky,” Rinchen says during an interview over breakfast in the hotel’s sunlit courtyard, with the majestic mountains as a backdrop. “My mother helps with the children, who are learning in Leh, while I juggle between Leh and the hotel in the Nubra Valley. Without her support, I couldn’t have taken on such a big project. In this part of the Himalayas, it’s the women who run things. What do the men do?” Rinchen giggles, “I really don’t know… There is equality between men and women here. While in most of India, men are considered more important, and every mother wishes for sons, in Ladakh, the opposite is true—every mother wants daughters.”
Rinchen Kalon: "I feel very lucky"
Boutique Hotel on the Silk Road
The Kyagar Hotel is the perfect getaway, offering a unique blend of history and comfort. This boutique hotel features eight cottages, each with two rooms, a seating area, a bathroom, and a private balcony. The hotel is built on the very grounds where Rinchen Kalon’s ancestors once welcomed caravans of merchants who braved the jagged peaks and dizzying valleys of the Himalayas to reach Ladakh. It was here that gold, fabric, spices, and cultures were exchanged. Today, you can open your curtains at dawn to witness the soft golden rays illuminating snow-capped peaks, or simply soak in the stillness of the Himalayas from the comfort of your plush bed. As you enjoy breakfast, dipping khambir —the local sourdough bread—into a steaming cup of butter tea, don’t forget to look up and watch hawks and eagles gliding gracefully across the sky, riding the air thermals.
Rinchen in the beautiful lobby of The Kyagar Hotel, decorated with local craftsmanship
A Cinderella Story
Alchi Kitchen is nestled in a small village of 932 people near the ancient Alchi Monastery, 41 miles from Leh City. Nilza Wangmo, the owner, was born and raised in this very village where she later established her restaurant. Tragically, she lost her father before she was born and never had the chance to meet him. Nilza attended a missionary school while her mother worked a low-paying job to make ends meet. As she grew older, Nilza enrolled in college, but financial hardships forced her to pause her studies and begin working to support her mother. Not wanting to be separated from her, Nilza’s mother joined her in the village where she worked. Unfortunately, a devastating flood destroyed their workplace and home. The two women managed to escape but lost all their meager possessions. Homeless and heartbroken, they sought refuge, but her father’s family refused to take them in. Fortunately, Nilza’s maternal grandfather came to their aid, helping them build a small house in the village of Alchi.
Nilza and her team in the kitchen
Success
When Nilza Wangmo decided to open a restaurant dedicated exclusively to Ladakhi cuisine, many people—including close friends and family—tried to dissuade her. They believed that foreigners and tourists would find the food bland and uninteresting. Although Ladakh is a popular tourist destination, most restaurants cater to international tastes. Only a few restaurants in the region serve authentic Ladakhi dishes, and even they tend to stick to a limited selection of popular items and basic snacks.
Undeterred, Nilza spent an entire winter brainstorming the menu with her mother and family, rediscovering lost recipes and adding modern twists to traditional dishes. She made tough decisions along the way, such as replacing Kashmiri tea with a special tea made from local apricots. When the restaurant first opened, few people visited. However, after about two years, word spread—without any publicity—about the unique restaurant in the remote village of Alchi, and soon, people began to flock there.
“People often ask me which culinary school I attended,” Nilza says. “But the truth is, I never had formal training. I learned the art of Ladakhi cuisine by watching my mother cook.”
The restaurant is open each year until October, as the harsh winter weather in Ladakh forces it to close. In November, Nilza sends her cooks home to spend time with their families. In December, she is invited by chefs to cook pop-up meals in prestigious hotels around the world, introducing diners to Ladakhi cuisine. These experiences allow her to enhance her culinary skills, incorporating new techniques and ideas to give a modern touch to the dishes she serves at her restaurant. Thanks to its success, the restaurant has been featured in publications like National Geographic, Condé Nast Traveler, and Lonely Planet.
The intergenerational relationship
She lost her mother to COVID-19 in 2021. “When she passed away, I was overwhelmed with grief. I couldn’t do anything. The world felt empty and cold, and I closed the kitchen. Even when I started to recover, my heart broke every morning when I woke up and felt her absence. Even now, the loss remains fresh in my memory. Her presence lingers everywhere I go. I never imagined the restaurant would become as successful as it is now, and I’m so grateful her for that success. I only wish I could share it with her.” After her mother’s death, the entire village joined in her mourning. “We’re a community of fewer than 1,000 people, so our relationships are very close-knit. It was comforting to receive condolences from so many familiar faces.”
It’s uncertain whether the intergenerational bond between mother and daughter in the kitchen, which has defined the last three generations, will continue into the fourth. Her 12-year-old daughter shows little interest in the restaurant and has expressed no intention of working in the kitchen with her mother. Nilza recounts with a smile an incident where, during a busy time in the kitchen with guests waiting for their dishes, she sent her daughter to pick thyme from the garden next to the restaurant—only for her daughter to accidentally bring back just weeds. Behind her smile, however, there is a hint of sadness. Nilza had hoped the culinary tradition would continue in the family.
The female connection
Wangmo is now opening a culinary school dedicated to teaching the secrets of Ladakhi cuisine and training women to become chefs. Nilza hopes this initiative will inspire Ladakhi youth to cherish their traditional cuisine rather than gravitate toward junk food. In 2019, she received India’s highest award for women, the Nari Shakti Puraskar, which honors women who have advanced women’s empowerment. All the employees at Alchi Kitchen are young women from rural areas, personally trained by Nilza. Since she is in the kitchen every day, closely supervising the preparation of each dish, the cooks who work with her can understand her instructions without a word needing to be spoken.
When asked why she doesn’t hire men as well, Nilza explains: “Ladakhi cuisine requires patience, and most of the girls here are naturally skilled at cooking. The culture of men cooking is still uncommon in Ladakh. Besides, my mother left me a legacy to uplift the women of Ladakh. Every day, women come to my restaurant seeking job opportunities, and I try to employ as many as possible. Women in Ladakh are more advanced than their sisters in other parts of India. They work in all kinds of jobs without facing social stigma. Every day, I’m impressed by the women around me who take risks to
When asked why she doesn’t hire men as well, Nilza explains: “Ladakhi cuisine requires patience, and most of the girls here are naturally skilled at cooking. The culture of men cooking is still uncommon in Ladakh. Besides, my mother left me a legacy to uplift the women of Ladakh. Every day, women come to my restaurant seeking job opportunities, and I try to employ as many as possible. Women in Ladakh are more advanced than their sisters in other parts of India. They work in all kinds of jobs without facing social stigma. Every day, I’m impressed by the women around me who take risks to start small ventures instead of relying on the government or the men in their lives.”
It is fascinating to note that the food at the restaurant is prepared on a wood-burning stove right in front of the diners, adding to the overall gastronomic experience. Each dish is made from scratch using fresh ingredients, all under Nilza’s careful supervision.
We enjoyed several exceptional dishes at the restaurant. The moc-moc, dumplings filled with steamed mutton and lightly fried until crispy, were among the best I’ve ever had. The khambir, a fermented Ladakhi bread stuffed with vegetables and cheese, was also outstanding. Another highlight was the rice cooked with butter, vegetables, and cardamom seeds. For dessert, we had apricot yogurt, which was delightful.
We sat with Nilza on the balcony after a long day of work. She appeared exhausted from her efforts. However, as I spoke to her about Elchi Kitchen and her success, a renewed light gradually returned to her eyes, and her fatigue seemed to melt away. I could see how proud she was of her accomplishments.
