A heaving storm lashes at the bent backs of
200 hopefuls as they scrabble at the earth.
Crawling on all fours under pouring skies –
some mothers with blanketed babies strapped
to their backs – their nimble fingers unearth
caterpillar-like brown roots in shades of
yellow, white, and black. The yellow ones
are worth the most. But a Layap will settle
for any one, spending weeks on the steep
mountainside to excavate them, clean them
with toothbrushes, and tote them off to
auctions in Gasa, where buyers await.
Traditionally, Bhutan’s semi-nomadic
people were yak rearers, spending their days
tending herds some 4,000 metres above sea
level. But a decade ago, a new practice was
born: For a month in June, entire families
ascend even higher up the Himalayas to
harvest yartsa gunbu (meaning “summer
insect, winter plant”), the local name for
cordyceps. Gathering the coveted medicinal
plant is prohibited for most of Bhutan’s
population, except 1,200 inhabitants of
seven villages, including the Layap, under a
2004 royal decree designed to supplement
highlanders’ income on top of sales of yak
meat and dairy.
Cordyceps starts as a
parasitic fungus that
seeks a caterpillar
host. It germinates in
the victim’s body, then
kills and mummifies
it as the insect buries
itself into the soil.
A brown shoot then
grows from the mouth
of the corpse.
Cordyceps
Ophiocordyceps
sinensis
2cm to 5cm
SIZE
LOCATION
Cold grassy alpine
meadows in Nepal and
Tibet at elevations over
3,800 metres
USES
Effective against
tuberculosis, leprosy,
leukaemia, tumours
and kidney infections
TIBET
NEPAL
“I would have continued
picking cordyceps if I
hadn’t been told that
my daughter was born. I
only came down from the
mountains for a few days
to see my wife and baby”
Tashi, Layap
But cordyceps commands a price of up to
USD42,000 per kilo, and this eye-popping
price tag has led some Layap to change their
age-old traditions: When a single trip can
feed a family for a whole year, why should
they still shepherd?
“I would have continued picking cordyceps
if I hadn’t been told that my daughter was
born,” says Tashi, the Laya village headman’s
son-in-law. “I only came down from the
mountains for a few days to see my wife and
baby. The weather is ghastly, with strong
wind and rain, but we are still harvesting
with enthusiasm.”
right The Layap once
lived in yak wool tents
when herding on the
mountain, but these
are becoming a rare
sight as plastic tents
take their place today
NATURE