Western backpacker captured thousands of images of the Himalayas in the 1970s.

 

 

A magnificently dressed woman at the foot of the Himalayas, a Nepalese porter  
A salt merchant from Mustang  
A Nepalese jeweler crafting jewelry by hand

 

 

A monk in a Tibetan monastery managing and playing ritual instruments  
A monk stepping on a ladder to replace new decorations  
A Tibetan mother caring for her baby in a handwoven cradle  
A woman from Mustang spinning thread

Time Machine

In the early 1970s, a young man around twenty years old named Kevin Kelly from Pennsylvania chose to drop out of college to "recreate his own life" and began a solo backpacking journey around the world. For this trip, Kevin had no clear plan in advance; he only vaguely understood in his heart that his destination would be in Asia.

In 1972, Kevin Kelly at Newark Airport in New Jersey  
is about to embark on his first journey to Asia.  
The humorous Kevin Kelly calls himself boarding a time machine.

Perhaps out of a weariness with the West's gradual shift toward a technocratic world, Kevin believed that the mysterious East, with its ancient and enduring civilization, would be entirely different. He was convinced that Asia would represent the future.

Monk

Festival

Monastery

Bathe

Pilgrimage

Blessing

Snow Mountain

Herding

Such a choice clearly required immense courage for a young man who had not yet completed his university studies. Everything he was about to face would be unknown, and he would have to unconditionally bear all the consequences of his decision. But Kevin considered himself an unwavering optimist—he was willing to give everything for the choices he made.

Even though he started with nothing, Kevin managed to save enough for his travels by working odd jobs and earning an hourly wage. In fact, all his journeys were entirely self-funded. If one possesses a clear, positive, and rich spirit, life itself does not have to rely on abundant material wealth but can return to a state of utmost simplicity and purity.

The backpack Kevin Kelly carried when he began his journey through Asia  
Photo: craigmod

Years later, recalling the beginning of his journey, Kevin still felt it was a bizarre, destined "journey through time and space." The ticket fate handed him did not lead him to board an airplane, but a magical "time machine."

Stepping out of the cabin, as his travels deepened into many parts of Asia and the lands he tread expanded, he was profoundly astonished by everything he encountered along the way. Especially in the Himalayas—some places still had no cars, some even lacked electric lights. In some areas, the experience of night and day felt entirely different to both body and mind. At night, everything seemed to return to a very distant past. Drifting clouds and mist turned into mysterious, hazy veils, as if isolating time itself—dreamlike, illusionary, like a hidden paradise unaware of modern times.

A woman working in the Pokhara Valley, Nepal

Asian Grace

The entirely new experiences he gained in Asian countries made Kevin feel as though he had received a precious opportunity for re-education. His perceptions and ideas quietly transformed as his journey extended.

In a way, his travels felt more like a journey through time. Through continuous movement across spaces, he witnessed firsthand how different regions of Asia were at varying stages of development—both physically and mentally, it was as though he kept crossing different temporal zones, freely wandering between the past and the present. Throughout this wondrous journey, Kevin felt that at any moment, he might step into a world that had only existed in legends, history, or distant imagination. These places seemed as if they were still lingering in the Middle Ages.

The third eye painted on an outdoor sculpture in Kathmandu

At the beginning of his journey, Kevin never anticipated that his travels in Asia alone would occupy almost half of his life—a full 40 years. He moved through 35 Asian countries, embarked on hundreds of trips, covered tens of thousands of kilometers, traveled to and from various remote regions, shot thousands of rolls of film, and witnessed and documented all the strange, wondrous, beautiful, divine, and ancient civilizations—as well as the fading traditions—that still remained there.

Kevin mentioned more than once in interviews that one of the most important periods of his life was his journey across Asia. This experience was extraordinarily unique and special—an event that could never be repeated. Few people have been able to explore Asia as extensively as he did, and certainly no one has been as fortunate as him to capture the entirety of Asia through his lens.

A village in Nepal

In 2002, to share his love for Asia with others, he compiled tens of thousands of photos from his travels into a book titled *Asia Grace*. The name of his collection reflects Kevin’s deep gratitude toward Asia.

This was not only because his precious experiences in Asia had transformed his thoughts and perspectives, reshaping his inner world, but also because Kevin felt that his ability to explore Asia was a matter of perfect timing and fortunate circumstances—he was lucky enough to have caught the golden age of global travel.

Kevin Kelly in Rajasthan, 1975  
Photo: craigmod

Revelation of the Himalayas

For a considerable period in history, journeying from the West to ancient Eastern countries was an exceedingly difficult endeavor. Constraints and challenges related to global circumstances, material infrastructure, personal finances, physical endurance, and natural conditions meant that only a select few dignitaries—endowed with substantial resources and official support—had the privilege of turning their dreams of the mysterious East into reality.

 

 

A stupa in Nepal, Sherpa architecture  
An elderly sutra-printing monk in Tibet, prayer beads

However, in the early 1970s when Kevin embarked on his journey, the world was beginning to undergo tremendous changes, and with it, people's ideas and ways of life were also transforming. As a result, even ordinary individuals now had the possibility of undertaking long-distance international travel. As Kevin put it, "Nowadays, in most parts of the world, someone like me—with little money and no connections—can still travel to regions that have seen little change since the Middle Ages."

Kevin recalled with amazement how, despite his limited funds, he managed to travel deeply and extensively between towns large and small in Nepal by transferring between various modes of transportation. Such an experience felt almost unbelievable, like a beautiful dream.

Scattered white dwellings dot the green Tibetan Plateau like stars in the sky.

But this was not merely due to material limitations; it was primarily because people consciously retained such traditional values and willingly embraced a way of life that had remained unchanged for ages. They never doubted their convictions—those values were deeply rooted in their hearts. It seemed as though they could continue living this way for many more years, guided entirely by their ancient culture and traditions.

   

   

A Nepalese woman fetching water  
A Nepalese boy playing with a hoop-rolling game  
A Sherpa vendor selling handwoven bamboo baskets  
A Nepalese potter making clay pots

The people here possess remarkable adaptability. They embrace their lives with a simple, peaceful, confident, and optimistic mindset. They excel at creating immense diversity and elegance using very primitive and basic elements. In a world not yet overwhelmed by modern civilization, one can easily slip back into a time hundreds or even thousands of years ago. In a world not governed by technology, people can genuinely experience a way of life that has long vanished in the West.

The wise and hardworking people here have built a rich and beautiful culture with the simplest and most basic material conditions. Kevin was deeply fascinated and filled with reverence for such a culture.

A father and son watering their horses by a stream in Leh.

Kevin believed that ancient cultures could teach us a great deal, offering a longer and deeper perspective for reflection. The precious experiences accumulated over generations could provide inner balance, strength, and guidance to people today who are trapped in anxiety, confusion, chaos, and restlessness. They also allow people to understand life more profoundly, to comprehend human nature, and to grasp the relationship between oneself and the world.

The experience of crossing the Himalayas was magical and unforgettable, and Kevin felt genuine gratitude for it.

Over forty years, Kevin traveled through 35 countries in Asia.  
His journeys in Asia occupied almost half of his life.

Once in a lifetime

During the era when Kevin embarked on his journey, even in Western society, someone who could carry a camera and wander with a luxurious mindset, freely capturing images as they pleased, was still extraordinary. At that time, the concept of photography for many might have been limited to ceremoniously pressing the shutter during holiday family gatherings or important life moments, solely for preserving beautiful memories. Thus, Kevin, who was purely passionate about photography and yearned to explore foreign cultures, naturally seemed downright crazy in the eyes of those who knew him.

He carried no luxurious or expensive luggage—a person willing to travel to foreign countries for photography didn’t even own a professional camera. The only precious item he had with him was the classic Kodachrome 64 film from that era, renowned for its iconic colors. Every day, Kevin shot about two rolls, roughly 70 photos.

A group of innocent children playing games.

Compared to today, where anyone can instantly capture, transmit, and share images with a smartphone, Kevin noted that his approach to photography back then was fundamentally different. Film came with a high cost, and each shot was an irreversible commitment—every press of the shutter was deliberate and cherished, unlike the often casual and sometimes careless attitude toward photography today, where reverence for the subject has largely faded.  

A perfect photo has one and only one moment and place where it can be taken, and that moment occurs just once. If the location or timing changes, even with identical elements and composition, the resulting image would carry a completely different meaning and impact.

A group of monks rehearsing a dance for an upcoming festival.

Ancient monastery rituals that have lasted for centuries

A group of grieving women at a funeral ceremony

Time, light, temperature, color, sound, scent… everything converges within a specific time and space due to particular causes and conditions, and the photographer happens to press the shutter at that very moment. Thus, it becomes a unique photograph in the world—there will never be another like it. The captured moment cannot be reenacted or replicated. It is like a flash of lightning, a fleeting instant—a once-in-a-lifetime encounter between us and that moment.

In a sense, photography is an accident, a special event. It can only arise from chance, not planning. The photographer can only hope, not presume.

   

   

At the foothills of the Himalayas, farmers rejoice in a bountiful harvest  
In the ancient city of Gorkha, two elderly people chat  
A lavishly dressed Sikkimese woman with meticulously styled hair  
In Kathmandu, a man is bathing

Therefore, Kevin's work gives people a sense of remarkable authenticity, rich texture, and vibrant life. In his photographs, one can even see a hazy layer of time's dust, evoking a profound sense of era. Gazing at these beautiful images, one can feel a deep and flowing emotion within them. This is entirely different from the flawless, impeccable visuals generated instantly through technical means. The latter lacks the details of truth and beauty, the meticulous observation filled with reverence, and the abundant emotion—thus, it naturally lacks that dignified, almost divine atmosphere.

In the Kullu Valley, two farmers pass the time playing flutes while waiting at the mill to grind flour.

A weaver in the Kullu Valley is weaving cloth.

A pair of carpenters in Nepal are sawing wood to build a house.

A vendor in Nepal carrying eggs to the market in the morning mist.

An active optimist.

Following the release of *Asia Grace* in 2002, Kevin curated 9,000 images from four decades of work to create the collection *Vanishing Asia*. Yet Kevin did not approach his subjects with a sense of nostalgia—instead, he used photography to understand the reasons behind their disappearance. In Kevin’s view, even vanishing things possess a unique beauty. Or perhaps one could say that beauty arises precisely from the inevitability of disappearance.

Sunset at a monastery at the foot of the Himalayas.

Rama Yuru on the mountaintop.

The town at the foot of Mount Everest

A team of salt merchants traveling from Nepal to the Tibetan Plateau

The white tents set up by Tibetan herders in summer

A village with many slate-roofed farmhouses in the Kur Valley

If earlier it was merely a blind enthusiasm that led him to extensively capture everything that interested him through his lens, then his later photography evolved into a more consciously documentary practice.  

Whether fast or slow, everything eventually disappears—it is only a matter of pace. Kevin’s documentation does not stem from nostalgia, nor is it meant to resist the impact and erosion of tradition by modern trends. Because this is the inevitable law of development. He records simply because he wishes to preserve the awe-inspiring beauty he feels in that very moment—and that, clearly, is enough. He has no intention of documenting a utopia; in fact, he does not believe in utopia. For there are no problems in a utopia, and it is problems that drive progress. Without problems, there can be no progress.

 

   

A Gurkha guard  
An elderly pilgrim on his way to the source of the Ganges  
A local Nepali man playing Pachisi  
Two young monks

Kevin considers himself an active optimist. He explains civilization as follows: "Civilization means creating just a little more than we destroy—even if it's only a little. Over time, these precious creations accumulate day by day, and this process of continuous accumulation ultimately forms civilization."  

Even though the Himalayan regions he traversed fifty years ago are inevitably entering modernity, Kevin still chooses to view these ongoing changes with a positive mindset. He says that even someone with Mozart's talent, if isolated deep in the mountains, might still unquestioningly play a familial role and bear the weight of family duties. But the emergence of technology at least offers them a new possibility—they now have the right to choose.

A monk turning prayer wheels in Kathmandu

Women in festive attire during a celebration

Prayer flags hung by pilgrims in Tibet

Two women refilling butter lamps at a monastery in Darjeeling.

Kevin admires Wenders and his perspective on photography. In the photo album *Written in the West*, completed during the filming of *Paris, Texas*, Wenders remarked: "The act of photography is essentially about seeing something and recording it as if it were the last chance, even in the most ordinary moments."

This article is translated from Dalu's blog.