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of salt. In this small space, Kersang is the equivalent for me of an alchemist or magician. When she speaks it is slow and her eyes twin- kle the light of all she has seen. Her hands remain fold- ed in her lap, once in a while spreading wide as she speaks. She o en refers back to the words, “the land”. Upon the Tibetan plateau, the land and its peo- ple are inextricably linked and bound. People may hold grudges but they also bear a shared struggle to sim-
ply survive. Trade, though, seems a favorite topic for Kersang.
Kersang in her precious wools, corals, and turquoise.
“ e nomads (ngdrog’ba) would come with their yak caravans from Ganzi, Serthar, Baima (in Sichuan to the southeast) and bring pine resin to trade for the salt. Salt...and tea, were everything”.
“Our lives were about our herds and
we could trade easily for salt. For these Khampas (Tibetans of the east) they had to travel distances to source the ‘white gold. ey had to travel dis- tances to nd anything to trade”. She is warming to the memories of the days of trade, and her hands have become more