Saturday, September 8, 2007

Notes from Tibet - Part IV

Day Six : Gyantse (3950m) to Lhasa (3595m)

After five long days, our last day on the road came upon us as were finally heading to Lhasa. It was rewarding to know that we were going to see the capital of Tibet, but bittersweet as the tour was ending and Lhasa has suffered the hardest effects since the Chinese violent occupation.

Tashi took us on the road and as usual, we left everyone in the dust to take a short cut through very rural land. Off-roading ensued as we trudged over a roadless area to find interesting landscape view points, fields of wild flowers, a man with a cart attached to a pony, and girls playing in the mud with shovels. We were able to observe rural Tibetans first hand who were ushering their sheep as we went through their small towns and made our way through the herds. Photography lessons occurred often as I was trying to absorb as much as possible from our last day on the range from my resident professors.

When we arrived in Lhasa, our tour guide mentioned that we were getting a new tour guide for the two day Lhasa portion of the tour. It was obvious that he felt bad for his lack of knowledge and ability to communicate with us in English. While Tony was helpful in translating his Mandarin into English, he probably didn't know enough about the sites we were visiting for a proper history and culture lesson.

Walking from our hotel to the Tibetan quarter of Barkhor, I counted three "sexy shops", as Simone put it, on our block. We got a little lost as the maps in LP weren't too helpful outside of Barkhor and we didn't know where to look for road names. Tom and I were stopped by a "lama" begging for money on the street. I had heard about these people who dress up like monks, but don't have anything holy about them. After Tom and I denied him money, Tom told me that he would rather give to a school anytime over giving to someone on the street. His thought is that it's better to teach some one skills that they can use for a life time in school rather than to reward them when they beg. This gave me a warm feeling as thoughts of the many projects AHF supports bounced around in my head that teach skills or provide a platform for skills to be taught: day care center operational costs, building schools, monastic school operational costs, and scholarships for girls are among a few.

Crossing the streets in Lhasa required attention. The smaller towns that we had been staying in up to this point were spread out with little vehicular traffic so it was easy to cross the roads. In Lhasa like Kathmandu, although there are cross walks, unless traffic is stopped at a traffic light, which isn't too often, the only way to get across is to walk in front of moving traffic. I learned to find some locals and cross the street as I walked behind them. Although bicycle rickshaws and bicycles have their own lanes, it was still a risk to get sandaled feet run over.

Day Seven: Lhasa

On our first outing with our new tour guide, we went to Drepung Monastery where many of us got lost in the labyrinth. It was great to get information on what we were looking at for once. She answered one of our questions with, "I'm sorry, but I can not talk about politics" which I can only imagine how frustrating it is for her to not be able to give the real story.

We went to a popular western restaurant in Lhasa for lunch where I order the best ratatouille that I've ever had. My opinion could have been slightly skewed considering the food choices I was privy to during the week. Never has eating vegetables been so welcoming; my body loved the vegetables of that day and the previous day when I ate spinach for the first time since leaving the States. It's always great to get perspective when traveling as I take the amount of good quality vegetables we have available to us at home for granted.

That afternoon we went to Jokhang Monastery in the heart of Barkhor, the Tibetan quarter. When we entered, there was some chanting through a sound system over a floor seated crowd that listened and chanted while they fingered prayer beads and spun prayer wheels. Tibetan monasteries are entrenched with beautiful art, craftsmanship and architecture, especially when considering that many were built over 500 years ago. Sure, they're not Notre Dame but Tibetans secluded themselves from the West until the late 1800s, so they created these completely on their own.

Upon entering monasteries, a smell of something rancid enters the nose. It's yak butter that fuels candles and also is put into tea to make butter tea, a traditional Tibetan drink. Thankfully, I wasn't offered after hearing that it's hard to swallow considering the taste. However, I was armed with an excuse that Tsering taught me, "Thank you, but my doctor told me to stay away from that." I will use that excuse in every culture I visit as it is the least offending way to say no and it has worked wonderfully on this trip.

After Jokhang, our guide took us shopping in the market, where we ended up splitting into smaller groups. Doug, Candace, Loes, and I walked around as we battled prices over souvenir t-shirts, bead bracelets and khata (traditional Tibetan scarves that are used by lamas in monasteries to bless people). As we walked around, I found two solar panel sellers. I wish solar panels were sold on the street in the US or at least made more readily available for purchase and installation. Right now it's so expensive to get them installed in the States, I'm sure that many people are just waiting for their prices to decrease before they jump on the soul train. Surprised and delighted to see that there were recycle bins next to garbage containers on the street in Lhasa, I was slowly being enchanted by a promising future of China as the second largest creator of greenhouse gases behind the US. Later on, we walked by a sign stating, "The use of plastic bags is prohibited in Lhasa Municipality. Please support this policy by refusing to accept plastic bags." Communist China is chasing after the heart of this used to be San Franciscan!

After making our way through stalls with a TV showing Tibetan music videos (Backstreet Boys in chubas (traditional Tibetan attire) on a field with Elvis sunglasses) we sat in front of Jokhang and watched people prostrating in front of the monastery. Prostrating is a little similar to a sun salutation in yoga; starting with hands in prayer position to be lifted over the head, then bend down to reach out for your hand mats, slide your body to the ground, slide your hands above your head while looking at the ground, slide hands back to push your body back up and repeat. These people said prayers and looked at the sky with hope and intention. Many pilgrims do that motion day in and day out for hundreds of days until they arrive at Mount Kailash, the holiest of all mountains. Once they arrive to their destination, they complete a Kora around the mountain which may take a few weeks or months longer. That's a workout of devotion.

That evening, Doug, Candace, Loes and I went for dinner and were the main attraction as a family of Tibetans sat down at the booth next to us. While the four of us were huddled around our food, I turned around as I felt someone looking at us. A woman and a little girl had their backs to their family and their eyes fixated on us as if they were mesmerized. There were plenty of westerners in Lhasa, so we didn't understand why we were so special. I guess, maybe for once we were up close for staring. After dinner, Loes asked us to see the Potala at night. Upon first sight a little bit of emotion whipped through me. It was beautiful, but seeing the Chinese flag looming overhead checked me back to reality.

Later that night, Loes and I met up with Dorje, Tsedo's friend. It was interesting to listen to him talk about the struggles he has a tour guide and driver in Tibet. Apparently, getting tickets for tour groups to get into the Potala is quite an ordeal and it's not unusual to get denied.

Day Eight: Lhasa

While a few of us wanted to see Sera Monastery, our tour guide pushed the Tibetan museum on us. Our Potala entrance time for that afternoon was set in stone and Sera took too long to navigate through for us to ensure our Potala arrival. Although at first I was disappointed that we didn't go to Sera, I now am happy that we went to the museum.

As we entered the museum, a placard on the wall stated, "Thanks to the cordial concern of the Central Committee of the Chinese Communist Party and the state council and under the correct leadership of the Party Committee and local government of the Tibet Autonomous Region, marked success has been achieved in the construction of Tibetan economy and culture and important attention has been paid to the preservation of cultural relics." And that was just the foreword.

We were given a tour by a Chinese tour guide who did a great job of answering our questions and regurgitating the museum tour guide manual in English. The tour was interesting as the Chinese government probably added at least one or two more cultural meetings in Tibetan and Chinese history. They tried to make a case that the Chinese government had every right to create that peaceful liberation "agreement." I was so appalled by this, I had to take pictures of these words that have been used to brainwash the Chinese people by the government for decades.

The guide told us that the 14th Dalai Lama (current one) is in India; her tone indicating that it was his decision to be there, as if he was on vacation. HHDL's picture was when he was a child in Tibet and it said in the caption, "Reincarnation of the 13th Dalai Lama."

As we moved from the history to cultural dress, we came upon Sherpa traditional dress. Unbeknownst to many, including most of retail product ventures in the US that use the word Sherpa in the title of their travel products, Sherpas are an ethnic group who migrated East from Tibet to the foothills of the southern part of the Himalaya. Just because they are acclimated to high altitude and many are porters (hired help who carry luggage, trekking gear, camping gear, climbing gear) which means that the word Sherpa should not be used when meaning porter. When Sherpa is used in the incorrect manner and said to the wrong people, it sounds like "My Jew really made my climb a success as he looked after me and my things." Sherpas (and Tibetans) are too nice to correct you, but they will be the most offended, as I learned at AHF.

Our museum guide made a comment about the Sherpa people, relating them to only climb mountains and carry things. No longer could I hold in my side comments for the small discussions with my fellow tour members and blurted out something along the lines of, "But don't confuse a Sherpa and a porter and don't call one the other name." I don't know if anyone was listening to my outburst, but it felt good to correct the tour guide as the information she told us was probably written by a Chinese government minion without any research, like Al Gore's speechwriter.

Al Gore didn't look too good this past fall at AHF's Annual Dinner to the many audience members of the climbing world whose jaws dropped after he said, "When Edmund Hillary and his Sherpa climbed Mount Everest in 1953..." That Sherpa is Norbu's dad! I do have much more respect for Al Gore since his environmental work has gone full scale, but I can understand how he didn't win in 2000 with a speech writer like that. There are a few more details to the story, which I will post if requested.

My overall disgust with the Chinese government made me wonder how many people in China know that they are being brainwashed about Tibet and what they think about Tibet. I'm excited to meet my future classmates at Merage and to ask a few of the Chinese students about their opinion of the government.

That afternoon, we made it to the Potala. We walked briskly through the security station, got our passports checked and then climbed many flights of stairs to the top to make it at our appointed time. Even though it was our third day in Lhasa many of use were out of breath from the altitude and took it a little slow to get to the top. Out of 999 rooms, we were only allowed to enter around 18 or 20 and had only one hour to get through the Potala.

HHDL's current picture is forbidden in Tibet, so it was a little weird talking about the past Dalai Lamas with little mention of the current one. It was as if Tibetan Buddhism was a religion of the past; a thought that made me sad at first, but knowing how dedicated Tibetans are to their religion, I wouldn't be surprised if it survived in a metamorphosed form beyond the Dalai Lama. HHDL has said he might be the last Dalai Lama as it might be hard to find the reincarnated Dalai Lama with the Chinese governments hands at the throat of Tibet. HHDL is 72.

As Hank put it, the tombs of many of the Dalai Lamas are "decadent". Tons of gold were used to create these monstrosities of respect. Although "Seven Years in Tibet" was filmed in Argentina, the crew did a really good job of creating the Potala which must have been hard considering that little to no filming was done in Tibet. Since traveling to Shangri-la, a sense of oneness in the landscapes across the oceans has become apparent.

The way that the Dalai Lama was is taken care of reminds me of the way the Pope is looked after in the Vatican. Lots of ceremonial decor in a beautiful palace, the best care provided by doting followers and an innate sense of responsibility for his people. The biggest difference however, is the recruitment. While there are countless missionaries for the Christian faith and there has been rivers of bloods spilled over the Muslim, Jewish and Christian faiths, I have yet to hear about Buddhist recruiters or pro-active wars.

Setting low expectations for the Potala visit, I wasn't too surprised or disappointed when the restricted tour seemed to be a contrived crowd pleaser. The Chinese flag loomed over the palace at the very top and directly in front. Chinese guards were in almost every room and Tsedo's friend told me to look out for men dressed as monks who would ask me for a picture of HHDL. Again, those pictures are illegal, so the smuggler could be arrested.

That evening was our last night together as a group, as many were leaving to depart back to Kathmandu the next day. We went out for a delicious dinner in the Barkhor area (Tibetan quarter) and exchanged e-mails. It was a great farewell but a little sad to say goodbye as we were lucky to have such a wonderful group of people.

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