Restoring Sabipa: Reviving a Traditional Ladakhi Home

Written by Deepika Nandan and Alex Jensen

Photos by Deepika Nandan and Local Futures

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Region: Ladakh

Organisation: Local Futures Ladakh

Area of Work: Ecological and Social Well-Being, Relocalizing Systems, Reviving Traditional Practices

About Local Futures:

Local Futures promotes sustainable living in Ladakh by revitalising traditional practices and relocalising food systems. In partnership with local communities, indigenous organisations, and government bodies, they organise workshops on farming, host dialogues on ecological knowledge, and encourage responsible tourism. Through storytelling, cultural events, and collaborations, Local Futures nurtures resilience and fosters a deeper connection to Ladakh’s social and ecological heritage.

Across the world, including in the Himalayas, traditional architecture carries generations of knowledge — built with local materials, designed for the climate, and shaped by the needs of the community. But as modern construction takes over, these time-tested techniques are being abandoned in favor of quick, concrete structures that come at a high environmental cost. This is the story of how one such forgotten home was revived, honoring both its history and the principles of sustainable, place-based building.

A testament to Ladakh's architectural legacy, Sabipa is a 200-year-old home tucked away in the center of Chuchot Village. Built with poplar beams, mud bricks, and carved wooden windows, Sabipa was once filled with life. But for the past 30 years, it lay empty as newer generations moved into modern concrete homes, leaving behind a structure that had once been the center of family life.

This shift is happening across Ladakh and much of India. Traditional homes are being replaced by concrete buildings, a material now considered one of the most destructive on Earth. The impact is especially severe in Ladakh, where thousands of bags of cement must be transported over the Himalayas, increasing pollution and costs. Meanwhile, a growing construction boom is consuming farmland, reducing local food production and self-reliance.

Despite the belief that concrete buildings are stronger, Ladakh’s traditional homes have long proved their durability. Made from earth, stone, and straw, they naturally insulate against extreme temperatures — keeping cool in summer and warm in winter.

Unlike concrete, which eventually crumbles into non-recyclable waste, the materials used in traditional homes can be repurposed or returned to the earth without harm. Yet, these buildings are often neglected, seen as outdated, and left to decay.

Returning to Natural Building

Recognizing their value, Local Futures, an organization dedicated to ecological and cultural renewal, took on the challenge of restoring Sabipa. The first step was a collaboration with Earth Building, a Ladakhi enterprise specializing in natural architecture. Together, they hosted a workshop on restoring the house, where 20 participants from across India, primarily architecture students, gained hands-on experience and explored alternatives to conventional materials and design.

Stanzin Phuntsog and Samyuktha, skilled young natural builders, led the hands-on experience, demonstrating how earthen materials could still play a role in modern construction.

Stanzin noted that in Ladakh, concrete is often seen as a symbol of progress. But in other parts of India, like South India, where concrete replaced traditional homes decades ago, people are now realizing its drawbacks and returning to natural materials. He hopes that Ladakh will recognize this before more damage is done.

Samyuktha added that Earth Building was founded to offer a sustainable alternative—for people who care about the environment but may not have considered natural building a viable option. Despite the dominance of concrete, Ladakh remains a place of inspiration because it still retains much of its traditional architecture.

She also stressed that natural building is about more than just materials — it’s about reconnecting with the land.

Today, architecture education in India rarely includes traditional techniques, but she hopes to change that by introducing students and young architects to these ideas. Even if just a few of them take an interest in natural building, she believes it will be worth it.

Following this, Local Futures partnered with Team Crashpad, a vibrant community of rock climbers based in the ancient Aravalli hills near Delhi, who also share a passion for natural building, organic decor, and permaculture. Their team worked on leveling the floors and coating them with a mix of clay, sand, and hay. The walls were plastered with a finer clay mixture and finished with a light wash to brighten the space. The roof was sealed with a layer of mud and a soap water coating to ensure waterproofing. The exterior was refreshed with markalak clay, restoring its warm, earthy color, while the black-and-red window frames were repainted.

In just two weeks, Sabipa was transformed. The once-abandoned home now stood strong and full of life again, its presence a quiet statement against the concrete wave overtaking Ladakh. What was once left to decay has been given a new life.

Local Futures Ladakh hopes it will become a hub for cultural exchange, activism, sustainable food systems, and young farmers—a space for learning, dialogue, and reconnecting with Ladakh’s traditions in a rapidly modernizing world.

In a world where concrete dominates the built environment, we must return to the alternative — one that is not only environmentally friendly but also inherently human-centered.

Unlike cement, earth-based materials are non-toxic, breathable, and environmentally friendly. They don’t pollute the air, scar landscapes, or fuel climate change. But restoring old structures isn’t enough — can we also bring back traditional materials and techniques in new construction?

More Than a House, A Movement

The restoration of Sabipa was more than just a repair project. It was a revival of knowledge, a rediscovery of skills, and a strengthening of community. It brought people together, sparked interest in restoring traditional homes, and reminded villagers of the beauty and sustainability of natural materials.

For seven days, participants mixed clay, hauled earth, plastered walls, and carefully burnished the surfaces. Laughter and conversation filled the air, alongside a deep sense of satisfaction from working with their hands. At the end of it all, not only had a house been restored—but so had a connection to the land, to tradition, and to each other.