Seven Years in Tibet (or so it seemed)

Heading Ever Upward

We flew from Chengdu to Lhasa and I realized, as I pulled my suitcase up the jet way-- and felt like I was climbing Everest-- that the altitude might just be a problem.  Lhasa sits at 12,000+ feet.  Higher than Machu Pichu.  Michael did great and I was OK, but when climbing or walking fast my lungs burned.  We got off easy. Others couldn't sleep or had vicious headaches or stomach problems-- or all three.  Fun fact:  A rapid and severe change in altitude makes you fart impressively.  Travel is SO educational. Oh, I said that already.

Flying into Tibet we could see the snow capped mountains.

As we flew into the Lhasa airport, we could see the river valley and the mountains. There were trees by the river, but no trees at all on the mountains.

So, I am struggling through the airport and I realize something.  We have now been in 7 different airports on this trip (Mexico, U.S., Korea, China).  The worst airport BY FAR was Los Angeles' LAX. Not even a contest.  Lhasa TIBET has a better, newer airport than LA!  What the...? Here I go again with the infrastructure thing.  Maybe I should forward my blog to Hillary.  Or Rick Perry and the rest of the "small government" crew.  Yuan tells us that when he was a college student it took 5+ hours to get to the Lhasa airport over dirt roads.  Today, it's all four lane, high speed, no potholes (think of the climate) highway to town. And they have a high speed train that runs from China to Lhasa. Oye.

So, we leave the airport and head into town.  It is a strange landscape.  No trees on the mountains, of course, at that altitude but we are driving through what is clearly a river valley and flood plain.  It is May (AKA Spring) and there is only a narrow ribbon of water and that is it.  I ask our local guide, Lucy (not really Lucy-- our worst local guide) why there isn't more water.  She replies, "Yes, it is odd".  So is Lucy.

A view of the alluvial river with its sandbars and the mountains in the background.

We end up at a restaurant for lunch.  Now here is an another odd fact.  There seem to be NO restaurants located on the first floor of any building.   You must ascend to all of them (like walk or ride 2-3 flights).  Except for the really spiffy, boondoggle restaurant where the corrupt officials were too busy/fat to climb the stairs, this was always true.  Anyway, we ascend and we are at our first Tibetan restaurant.  We get to eat YAK! This is very exciting to all of us.  And the restaurant is very good and we all like Yak.  If you don't know what a Yak looks like, picture a cow crossed with a buffalo available in a variety of earth tones and you've got it.

We are allowed a few hours to pull ourselves together and to rasp, pant and take Tylenol Super + Heavy Duty pills to acclimate.  It works somewhat and then we  are off to an informational talk by a university professor about Tibet.  We have been warned not to discuss the Dali Lama, China/Tibet relations etc. because there are undercover agents EVERYWHERE seeking malcontents. So I am busy writing down my questions such as "What is the official bird of Tibet?" when she begins speaking.  As she begins, it is all "the happy, happy, peaceful reconciliation of China and Tibet who have always been joined by a shared history and culture".  By the end, when she senses our anti-everything nature she is like "Oh, they say they want to preserve our culture and our language but they are hypocrites and they lie."  I hope that little guy pouring tea into our glasses constantly doesn't speak English.

The Museum of Tibet and Potala Palace 

By the next day, some were feeling better, and some were feeling worse, but life went on.  First stop was the Museum of Tibet.  When we entered the courtyard, Lucy began to hold forth.  She held forth in an accent that was, well difficult, and a diatribe that was, well, excruciating and exhausting.  Good manners faded after about 25 minutes when people began to quietly walk off or bash their heads into beautifully painted columns.  There were some pretty and interesting things. Cue Pictures.  Then we left.

While waiting to go into the museum, we encountered these Tibetan youths all dressed identically with yellow caps.  Perhaps because they are yellow hat Buddhists?  Read on..

The entrance to the Tibetan museum.

A display of a typical Tibetan home,...

colorful Tibetan boots,...

a typical Tibetan female style of dressing and...

a typical male Tibetan style of dressing.

Tibetans were of course excellent horsemen.  Remember the Mongols were there.

The museum also featured many religious statues, such as this one of the Buddha...

and Amoghapasha (Buddhist Deity & Bodhisattva)

We encountered the Tibetan youths working on their projects while in the museum.

We wandered over to the Summer Palace for a look at its grounds.  It was here that the protests occurred (1959) that led to the Dali Lama leaving Tibet and setting up house in India.  I don't know what his place in India looks like but this place was not too shabby.  You know, Tibet is a pretty poor country filled with dust, bare mountains and yaks. But there must be gold somewhere because all these Palaces (see Potala below) are just stuffed with gold things of incalculable worth.  Then we had lunch.  More Yak.

The entrance to the Summer Palace...

with its male lion...

and female lion on either side of the entrance gate.  

This is a common symbol, not only in Tibet, but throughout China. See if you can figure out how to tell the difference between the two.   Write back if you spot it.

Looking back from the entrance of the Summer Palace one sees a sign of the modern Tibet on the mountain.

This statue of the golden yak speaks to the importance of the yak to Tibetan culture.

Fortified with protein we set off for the highlight of our trip to Tibet -- the Potala Palace.  It was built in the 17th Century above the original 7th century site.  It has more than 1,000 rooms (428,000 sq. ft), including the Red Palace where the Dali Lama used to live (except summers I guess), 10,000 chapels and a labyrinth of "mysterious dungeons".  It took 7,000 workers and 1,500 artists and craftsmen more than 50 years to build.  It also has more than 345 steps and many steeply inclined ramps.  And it is dark and yak butter candles burn everywhere and drip on the floor which makes it like a skating rink.

The ten of us stood, craning our necks upward, to confront the task ahead.  And four of us ditched. Nope.  Not going there.  So the stalwart six set out while the reticent four retreated to the Potala Palace Museum and a walk around the Pilgrimage Circuit.  We were all pretty exhausted.  Three of us ended up in the darkened Museum either lying on the cool, stone floor or staring blankly at a wall. Sue and I had just convinced Aussie John (suffering from every high altitude ailment) to go supine and nap on a bench when a woman walked through sprinkling the floor with a watering can.  We were past conjecture as to its meaning.  It's meaning was that the Museum was closed and we were about to be locked in.  We left and began our perambulation of the Palace (about 2 km) to meet up with the stalwarts.  Eventually, they emerged and were in awe of the opulence, crowds, and tons of burning yak butter they had encountered.

Michael opined that I had made the correct choice because, in his words, "That place is the perfect trigger for every phobia you possess with the possible exception of reptiles. However you did miss the magnificent stupas, the burial tombs of most of Tibet's Dalai Lamas. The largest was 49 feet tall and was covered with 3,721 kilograms of gold and 20,000 jewels and diamonds. According to our guide this particular Dalai Lama (the fifth) lived a long time and accumulated many good deeds during his term as Dalai Lama. One of the other stupas only had 325 kilograms of gold, and yet another only had 175 kilograms of gold. This last stupa had the least amount of gold because this Dalai Lama did not live as long and, therefore was not able to accumulate as many good deeds. This his stupa was not as large and was not covered with as much gold. However the thirteenth Dalai Lam's stupa was about 46 feet tall and was made of  silver covered with 600 kilograms of gold and studded with lots of coral, amber , agate, diamonds and other precious jewels. This stupa is reputed to be ten times more valuable than the fifth Dalai Lama's stupa. Unfortunately no photos are allowed inside the Red Palace."

The Potala Palace is very visible throughout Lhasa, with the White Place below and the Red Palace above.

A better view of the Red Palace, with an indication of its immense size.

A Buddhist nun with her prayer wheel in one hand and her prayer beads in the other.

We had to climb these steps to get to the White Palace ....

and these steps as well.

The very ornate painted columns and woodwork was very reminiscent of what we saw in the Forbidden City in Beijing.

The painted murals were very colorful as well.

Although no photos were allowed in the Palace, the shots from the heights of the Palace gave a better perspective of the surroundings of Lhasa...

and the buildings in the city.

This older woman was walking her sheep as we finally descended from the top of the Palace and were walking along the base.

That evening promised an event that set off my "touristy" (phobia #3) alarm bells.  We were going to a place called The Crazy Yak where we would be treated to an extravaganza of Tibetan music, dance and song.  And a dancing Yak...  As the bus rumbled to our destination one of our number was heard to mutter: "Yak AGAIN?  How much Yak can one eat?"  We would soon find out.  It was a buffet (phobia #15--food set out for four weeks).  And it was replete with Yak.  The most horrifying entree was stuffed Yak lung.  I am not kidding.  I made two bites.  And then the show began.  Oh, my.  The Tibetan musicians were using fake instruments.  Fake.  They had a DJ with a cigarette dangling from his mouth on stage running the music.  The finale was a dancing Yak that pranced through the audience encouraging (demanding) that you stuff Yuan (the money, not the guide) into its mouth. Luckily we were all so far over the edge at this point that we actually enjoyed it in a masochistic sort of way.   

I am not sure if there is another Crazy Yak Restaurant, but this one was more than enough.

An appetizing plate of yak, stuffed yak lung and other assorted Tibetan food favorites, along with barley beer and yak butter tea.

After having seen the Tang Dynasty performance (see last blog), this paled in comparison.

They even used fake instruments!

At least the costumes were interesting...

although I am not sure how the crazy 9 T-shirt on the far left can be considered a Tibetan costume.

The crazy yak, from which the restaurant got its name,...

took a shine to Deirdre.

"Take your place on the Great Mandela"
As you move through your brief moment in time,
Win or lose now, you must choose now,
And if you lose, you're only losing your life."
     Attribution:  Peter, Paul and Mary (under-rated folk lyricists)

Yes, that IS the title of this section.  And if you are old enough to remember that song then you are already halfway there to "getting" Tibet.  I would not have been surprised to see George Harrison or the entire Woodstock Nation sauntering beside me as we did the pilgrimage walk around Jokhang Temple.  While the hippies and seekers of the West got it on one level, what they didn't realize was that a Westerner could never REALLY get it -- just not in the DNA.

First of all there is  Barkhor Square and its attendant Bazaar.  Picture the Temple in the center and a series of concentric circles surrounding it filled with vendors of all sorts.  Now, the innermost circle is where the faithful perform their pilgrimage. Some are circling with their prayer wheels.  Others are walking a number of steps and then prostrating themselves.  There is much chanting.  Some have walked hundreds of miles to get here and others live across the street and do it every day.  In fact, we were told that young people work hard so that they can get their parents a place close to this temple (or another major one) so they can do the circuit everyday.  Buddhism is the core of these peoples lives -- everyday, 24/7.  I think the sect in Lhasa is the Yellow Hat Buddhists.  To be honest, I didn't really follow the whole sect thing very well (thanks, Lucy).  But the main event is the Temple itself.

A Tibetan man was slowly making his way around the whole temple, praying and stopping every three feet...

to prostrate himself.  The blocks on his hands makes it easier to fully prostrate himself.  They help him slide forward and retract.

This group of male & female Tibetans were praying and prostrating themselves in front of the temple. The women wear bungee cords around their dresses below the knee to preserve their modesty as they prostrate themselves.

Here we go with the Yak butter again.  People bring pitchers of it to "refresh" the candles (of which there are thousands) in the temple.  No fire extinguishers, no fire exits, much wood (phobia #22). You snake your way in with hundreds, if not thousands, of others (phobia #2) careful not to jostle a person with a gallon of Yak butter.  You are literally taking baby steps because you are hemmed in so tightly.  There are ancient people, and babies, and hundreds of monks in red robes and chanting sutras and spinning prayer wheels and a zillion Buddhas.  The most famous Buddha is the golden 7th Century one.  We inch our way towards Golden Buddha and, at the turnoff to see him, some functionary decides we will NOT see the Golden Buddha and we are dismissed to the right to wend our way out.

Once more no photos were allowed in the temple, but the exterior allowed for many photo opportunities.

Once again the dragon rears its ugly head.

The painted woodwork was yet again spectacular...

along with the golden figures on the eaves...

and even more gold.

From the top of the temple there was a very good overview of  Barkhor Square.

A different view of Potala Palace from the top of the temple.

This photo was one that shows the steepness of some of the stairs (ladders?) we ascended and descended here, in Potala Palace and later on in the monastery.  Now picture that crammed with people kind of pushing.

Bang! We are back out in the blinding glare of the Square once more.  So, now it is time to discuss the on the ground reality of China/Tibet relations.  Clearly China has not gotten over the kerfuffle of 2011 when Tibetans protested Chinese domination by setting themselves on fire in significant numbers.  And Lhasa is ground zero for this.  On all four corners of Barkhor Square are Security checkpoints and there are police stationed prominently on every street surrounding the Temple and, actually, everywhere in the city.  While we were sitting taking in the Square two buses, outfitted with bars across the windows, arrived and about 50 police, many wearing vests that said SWAT (yes, in English) emerged. If it's not a police state it is pretty darn close.  Tibetans are becoming a minority in their own country as Han Chinese move in.  They are encouraged to do so by the Chinese government and it is appealing to many Han because they can get land cheaply and actually breath the air (even if it is rarefied). Time for lunch.  More Yak.  See, you don't have a choice because everything in China and Tibet (well, almost everything) is served family style and they just keep bringing food -- largely Yak).

Back on the square an amazing pile of Tibetan prayer flags.

The police do not like to have their pictures taken, but I managed to sneak this one of a policeman on his cell phone in the square...

along with this incongruous photo of a monk on his cell phone...

while this monk checks his while using his hat to shield it from the glare.

We witnessed the changing of the police guard in the square as two large police buses pulled up and disgorged its occupants, who line up before in rows before going to their assignments.

These two police women walked off holding hands. Note the one has her Channel knock-off handbag.

The smell of burning Yak candles has incapacitated (I am not kidding) one of our crew and Portland John has wisely returned to the hotel rather than face another onslaught of Yak candles at our next destination -- the Sera Monastery.  By now, the group is really exhausted (the result of altitude, a frantic pace, no wine and 1,322 steps) and we are becoming crotchety.  We confront Yuan:  "Exactly HOW MANY steps are involved with this Sera Monastery place?"  "Oh, this one is easy.  It is just gradual slopes and ramps.  Not many steps at all."  Will we never learn?  Of course there are steps. Well, some may call them steps.  I would call them ladders.  Very steep ladders.  I do so hope Michael captured one in a photo. Oh, he did.  Well, we survived the monastery and then it was a slow glide towards the Yangtze River cruise which we were all looking forward to as a respite.  Little did we know.

The entrance to the Sera Monastery.

This sign was posted at the entrance to the monastery. Note that hullablooing, curveting and slapsticking are prohibited. Obviously something was lost in translation.

Yes Virginia, Tibetan women do dress this way.

I was the only one to enter the print shop, since it involved more stairs. Each of these cubicles contains wood blocks with Buddhist prayers on them. Many of the prayers are printed with these wood blocks on paper using either silver or gold ink.

This mural painted on the rock was being restored by these men. Note the bamboo scaffolding they are using.

By walking down this row of prayer wheels and spinning them, a devote Buddhist can say a whole lot of prayers.

The children come to the monastery to have a black mark placed on their nose. This is supposed to keep the child healthy and protect them from illnesses.

Typical Tibetan buildings along this retail street.

The symbol was originally a Buddhist symbol before the Nazis adopted it as a symbol of the Third Reich. It is still common to see this in countries where Buddhism is popular.

The colorful lobby of our hotel in Lhasa.

Once again, I fear we must make this blog posting longer.  One more.  I swear only one more.  We'll do the River Cruise, Shanghai and that's it.  We'll never mention China again.  Promise.  Have fun. Let us know what's up.