The Ends of Kinship. Sienna R. Craig

      In memory of Jigme Dorje Palbar Bista, 25th King of Mustang

      From a distance, topography is intent

      as in, Where I am from is no more.

      Blood is not a natural conclusion

      to kinship despite theories and experiments

      where red prefaces emotion

      —TSERING WANGMO DHOMPA, “EXILE”

      To create one’s world … takes courage.

      —GEORGIA O’KEEFFE

      RECOGNITION AND GRATITUDE

      … it makes the pieces one by one in the dark

      there is always enough dark …

      one with the uneven current of breathing

      with the silence untouched by the rush of noise

      —W. S. MERWIN, “THE ARTISAN WORLD”

      Anthropologists often speak of “key informants.” I find this framework limiting. Even when used respectfully, it connotes a transaction rather than an ethics of care, let alone the co-creation of knowledge. I prefer “core relationships” to describe the people without whom this book would not exist.

      Nawang Tsering Gurung and I first met each other on the playground of a Kathmandu boarding school, when he was nine and I was twenty-two, in 1996. Born in upper Mustang, educated in Kathmandu and the U.S., and now a U.S. citizen, Nawang is a consummate culture broker. He has been mentored by prominent scholars, has a vast social network, and has worked on many research projects, including ones with me. He has spearheaded cultural education efforts for younger Himalayan New Yorkers; advocated for community rights; engaged in projects that support Himalayan and Tibetan languages; and participated in local education, conservation, and development efforts back in Mustang. Based in New York, he continues to nurture connections with Nepal. This is perhaps most poignantly revealed in the ways that he’s lived up to his late father’s lineage, his mother’s expectations, and his three younger siblings’ needs. He is engaged to a young woman from upper Mustang. They live in Queens and, by the time this book is printed, they will be parents.

      I met Karma Choden Gurung and Yangjin Bista in 2012. We grew close quickly. I was introduced to each of these young women through Nawang. Now in their early thirties, for women of their generation, they are highly educated. Karma Choden (or “KC” for short) has a bachelor’s degree in biology, and Yangjin has a master’s degree in anthropology/sociology, both from Kathmandu-based institutions. KC’s family has limited resources and social status; Yangjin was born into a branch of Mustang nobility. Whereas Yangjin and her family identify strongly with Buddhism, KC has embraced Christianity as her guiding faith. Both young women are meticulous researchers with deep knowledge of Mustang’s social landscapes. After our collaborations began in 2012, they went on to work with other foreign scholars, development workers, and educational institutions. In the years since we have known one another, Yangjin and then KC have been elected to political posts in Mustang and taken on other leadership positions in their communities. I’ve also witnessed both of these women become wives and mothers in recent years.

      Born in the Muktinath Valley and educated in a boarding school in the Himalayan foothills of West Bengal, India, Kunzom Thakuri is one of the bravest people I know. We met in 1995. I had just arrived in Mustang as a Fulbright Fellow, on the heels of graduating from college. Kunzom had returned to Nepal after completing her secondary education and had taken a job with the Annapurna Conservation Area Project (ACAP). At the time, ACAP, under the direction of the then–King Mahendra Trust for Nature Conservation (KMTNC), was charged with managing tourism in upper Mustang as well as spearheading conservation-development initiatives after the region was opened to foreigners in 1992. While this model of community-led conservation and tourism management was revolutionary, both globally and in Nepal, it was not an easy sell in Mustang.

      During those early days of our friendship, Kunzom and I spent many hours talking about the intricacies of life, culture, land, and politics in Mustang. I admired how she navigated social difference. Kunzom made the transition to the U.S. in the late 1990s and, for a time, we both lived in the San Francisco Bay Area. We kept in touch as she and I spent time in America, Europe, and Nepal over the next decade. She returned to Nepal more permanently around 2011 to begin a massive undertaking: helping to envision, build, staff, and manage a new primary school in an upper Mustang village. Through this effort, she is striving to implement an innovative model of elementary education in Mustang at a time when, as this book explores, the driving cultural norm is that receiving a high-quality education requires leaving home. We have spent time together in research capacities in 2012, 2014, 2016, 2018, and 2019. She is a teacher, a confidant, and an inspiration.

      As for me, born in California and educated in New England, I first traveled to Nepal as a nineteen-year-old undergraduate student of religion and anthropology. I lived in Nepal from 1995 to 1998 and have continued to spend time in the country each year since then. What began as a youthful connection to people and place has