Nestled between the misty slopes of Sikkim, the dense forests of West Bengal, and the emerald hills of eastern Nepal, live the Lepcha people — an indigenous tribe whose myths say they were born from the snows of Mount Kanchenjunga, the third-highest mountain in the world.
Their language, songs, and rituals carry centuries of ecological wisdom and spiritual depth.
But like many Indigenous traditions, they’re slowly disappearing with time.
Adi Prakash, a PhD in Cultural Anthropology candidate at the University of Colorado, Boulder, who’s studying this very topic, takes a different view.
Prior to pursuing a PhD in Cultural Anthropology, Prakash was a documentary filmmaker. Source: Adi Prakash
Can a language live and die at the same time? A LEPCHA-focused PhD in Cultural Anthropology investigates
When Prakash began documenting life in the Himalayas, he encountered the Lepcha people and heard them speaking a language that was not theirs: Nepali, the dominant language in their area.
The elders are fluent in Lepcha. Millennials get by, though they speak mainly in Nepali. As for Gen Z? Many can’t speak Lepcha at all.
“The younger generation has increasingly forgotten their traditional tongue,” he says.
However, their names are in Lepcha.
“The majority of Lepchas are Buddhists or Christians, so names often reflect those faiths, like David or Tenzing,” Prakash says. “But recently, more children are being given traditional Lepcha names.”
So, how did this all happen? The answer lies in what sociologist M.N. Srinivas called the dominant caste framework — a system in which the most powerful community sets the tone, including the language.
“In this region, the dominant group are Nepalis, a portmanteau of communities that use Nepali-ness as social and political identity,” Prakash explains. “Hence, Nepali has become the language everyone speaks.”
Land, too, plays a central role in this power dynamic. On paper, India’s laws guarantee indigenous people like the Lepchas rights over their ancestral land. But in reality, those same lands are being reshaped — quite literally — by development projects.
Today, the government is planning to build a dam that affects the Lepcha territory of Dzongu, which will add to a series of many already constructed in the larger region.
And it’s in this unlikely place that Prakash started seeing the contradiction, how a language can die and yet survive through symbols, through resistance.
“In contesting the state and the development narrative, the Lepchas are finding new ways to exist,” he says. “This use of language as a means of negotiation with the state is what I study.”
Adi Prakash’s research interests lie in language, reciprocity and ritual assertions among the Lepcha in the Eastern Himalaya. Source: Adi Prakash
Decolonising the study of Indigenous tribes in cultural anthropology
Prakash’s research raises a vital question: How can anthropology move beyond its colonial past to truly honour Indigenous voices?
“In many ways, there’s a contradiction, one that stems from the inequitable distribution of global resources,” he reflects.
Anthropology, as a discipline, has recently undergone a profound reckoning with its colonial and racist foundations.
Born in an era when Western scholars studied non-Western societies through a lens of superiority, they often documented and interpreted cultures in ways that reinforced colonial hierarchies.
Today, efforts to decolonise cultural anthropology challenge these legacies by questioning who holds authority to produce knowledge — and how that knowledge is used.
Decolonisation means moving away from extractive fieldwork practices toward more collaborative, ethical, and reciprocal relationships with the communities being studied.
“When it comes to economics, political science, or social science, a lot of theoretical constructs and assumptions are made in the West,” Prakash explains. “That’s where the colonisation of a discipline happens.”
Because of its colonial roots, anthropology has historically been Westernised, focusing on non-Western cultures from a Western perspective. Scholars like Prakash are working to change that narrative, but the challenge extends beyond anthropology.
Prakash has filmed and produced documentaries in Pakistan and the US. Source: Adi Prakash
Take Fatima Ebadat Khan, for example. The MS in Education graduate and educator in Pakistan is addressing similar issues in her own field. Her master’s programme equipped her to confront the exclusionary nature of Pakistan’s education system.
Her thesis explored how national curricula often preach intolerance and marginalise minority communities.
“I wanted to understand how we can reshape our education to reflect our history and experiences, not someone else’s version,” says Khan.
To Prakash, decolonising cultural anthropology starts with more people contributing new knowledge to this field.
Pursuing his doctorate at a Western university is part of that process of decolonising cultural anthropology.
He believes that the presence of non-Western scholars in global academia can itself begin the work of decolonisation — one voice, one story, and one community at a time.
Popular stories
What it’s like being a minority figure in the Australian performing arts scene
9 European universities that are free to apply
3 tips for going back to uni as a mid-career professional and not regret it
The degrees that make students cry: A look at the most challenging courses in the world
