Hello Readers.
I would like to thank all of you from coming along on Carly and I's adventure in the East. It was a wonderful experience that will color the rest of my life. I have been working on the after-trip portion of the class which is the creation of a group journal containing everyones research topic and place writings as well as some bonus features. I will let everyone know when it is going to the printing press.
I have been posting photos from the trip on-line through google's picasa program. There are photos from everywhere we went and I will be updating them often. I suggest you take a gander. The link is:
picasaweb.google.com/willie.pictograms
Hope you check it out and please leave comments I do read them and I enjoy your input. Thanks again.
Willie
Sunday, November 4, 2007
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Photos from Chengdu
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Long Lost Lhasa Photos
POTALA
This is the view from the roof top tea house at our hotel
This is an offering fire at the front of the Jokang where I met the No name monk and was introduced to Popo.
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Mt. Genyen: God Mountain
Mt. Genyen is home to what is for many the archetypal Tibet scene. The monastery, far flung and strenuous to reach, is set amongst a backdrop of rugged peaks. This for now is not a tourist place since it can only be reached by the truly dedicated. The walk was gorgeous; both visually and physically breath-taking. We set off along a rushing turquoise river through flower dotted meadows beset by piles of inscribed "Mani" stones.
After about two hours of walking on an empty stomach we reached a small village, a good opportunity for a rest and a snack. Dining on peaches and peanuts, Carly and I watched the daily routine that is required to survive in the remote location. Everyone was outside, adults working, children playing, some lounging and talking. The village proved to be a labyrinth, we thought we should just head for the largest mountain but tracking your route by mountain can be confusing since a big mountain is on all sides. We asked the locals where the monastery was and they pointed us in the right direction. An old woman came and opened the gate to the path. Sometimes it seems like the only Tibetan words you really need to know are hello and thank you. Passed the town was a landscape of rolling green hills, ominous dark clouds began to form overhead and just as we made it to the pass and out of the treeless hills as the rain started to pour. We sought refuge under a juniper tree until the worst was over. A Tibetan walking the same route told us "Don't fear the rain."
When the downpour turned into a drizzle we set off through a field of boulders and rejoined the river .
Now the weakness from 4 weeks of physically stationary train, car, and plane travel as well as the previous 12 miles walk started to kick in. We drugged up the pass, myself nearly out of water. My head began to ache, and my lungs strain struggling to fulfill my body with the thin 14,000 foot air. But as in all things movement is driven by putting one foot in front of the other. We were greeted by prayer flags as we reached the top of the pass. Another half mile and the monastery, our final destination, appeared beneath a line of jagged peaks.
We walked along the river and up to the temple at the crest of the hill. I have never been so relieved to take a weight off of my back-walking 14 miles entirely between 13,000 and 14,000 feet will do that. We moved to the monastery kitchen for dinner ( our professor promised tsampa- barley meal) and I needed water. I immediately felt better with the backpack off. We sat along the edges of the darkened room and deliriously watched the monk tend to the wood burning stove. Relaxing on the mats and in a state of euphoria from the soreness we waited for food that would never come. The monk was not making dinner just boiling water. A package of instant noodles made sure we did not go to bed hungry. We sat and slurped noodles and watched to sun go down. Darkness descended at a mellow pace turning the sky from pink to yellow, to blue. At this stage we gathered our trash into a pile, picked up our bags, and made our way to sleep. We had been told that a bed awaited to cradle us to an easy sleep but our bags came down on the wood plan ks of the monastery porch. I set up my sleeping bag, grateful to be on my back mattress or not, an d fell asleep gazing at the psychedelically painted ceiling of the monastery roof
After about two hours of walking on an empty stomach we reached a small village, a good opportunity for a rest and a snack. Dining on peaches and peanuts, Carly and I watched the daily routine that is required to survive in the remote location. Everyone was outside, adults working, children playing, some lounging and talking. The village proved to be a labyrinth, we thought we should just head for the largest mountain but tracking your route by mountain can be confusing since a big mountain is on all sides. We asked the locals where the monastery was and they pointed us in the right direction. An old woman came and opened the gate to the path. Sometimes it seems like the only Tibetan words you really need to know are hello and thank you. Passed the town was a landscape of rolling green hills, ominous dark clouds began to form overhead and just as we made it to the pass and out of the treeless hills as the rain started to pour. We sought refuge under a juniper tree until the worst was over. A Tibetan walking the same route told us "Don't fear the rain."
When the downpour turned into a drizzle we set off through a field of boulders and rejoined the river .
Now the weakness from 4 weeks of physically stationary train, car, and plane travel as well as the previous 12 miles walk started to kick in. We drugged up the pass, myself nearly out of water. My head began to ache, and my lungs strain struggling to fulfill my body with the thin 14,000 foot air. But as in all things movement is driven by putting one foot in front of the other. We were greeted by prayer flags as we reached the top of the pass. Another half mile and the monastery, our final destination, appeared beneath a line of jagged peaks.
We walked along the river and up to the temple at the crest of the hill. I have never been so relieved to take a weight off of my back-walking 14 miles entirely between 13,000 and 14,000 feet will do that. We moved to the monastery kitchen for dinner ( our professor promised tsampa- barley meal) and I needed water. I immediately felt better with the backpack off. We sat along the edges of the darkened room and deliriously watched the monk tend to the wood burning stove. Relaxing on the mats and in a state of euphoria from the soreness we waited for food that would never come. The monk was not making dinner just boiling water. A package of instant noodles made sure we did not go to bed hungry. We sat and slurped noodles and watched to sun go down. Darkness descended at a mellow pace turning the sky from pink to yellow, to blue. At this stage we gathered our trash into a pile, picked up our bags, and made our way to sleep. We had been told that a bed awaited to cradle us to an easy sleep but our bags came down on the wood plan ks of the monastery porch. I set up my sleeping bag, grateful to be on my back mattress or not, an d fell asleep gazing at the psychedelically painted ceiling of the monastery roof
Monday, July 9, 2007
Beauties of the Plateau
I thought it was time to add a few pictures to the blog but the pace at this machine is so slow I could only give a choice few. I'll stick to Mt Genyen, an outstandingly beautiful place that I feel very privlidged to have walked 26 miles at 14,000 feet to witness. And two lakes that we explored, evidence of Tibet's glaciated past and sometimes present. More explainitory text about each place is soon to come. Thanks for reading.
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Litang: Sichuan's Wild West
This bustling hive of activity is a welcome change from the rural villages we have been traveling through for the past few weeks. Out in the valleys we are the center of attention. When we pull up in our caravan of land crusiers all the kids and some adults stop where they are doing to observe the spectical of white skinned camara wielding foriegners. What a strange bunch we must be to them.
Litang on the other hand, has its own bustle that keeps the locals occupied beyond the strange foriegners. The main artery is pact with motorcycles, minivans, tracters, SUVs, and mules, the sidewalks are decked with Tibetan goods, rugs, incense and food. The market has a characteristic atmosphere. I welcomed the many varieties fruit trucked up from Chengdu. The elevation of Litang is just over 13,000 feet prompting some to call it the highest city in the world however you wouldnt know it from the abundance of the marketplace. Grapes, watermellon, asian pears, peaches, and plums greet you as you enter the market square. The varieties of foods make me long for a kitchen as the rows of ingredients spread out past what the eyes can see. Yak hangs from the rafters, and fish float in buckets on the ground. Pickled roasted garlic and chillis provide fragrence as I pass. The market- what a beautiful place.
Litang on the other hand, has its own bustle that keeps the locals occupied beyond the strange foriegners. The main artery is pact with motorcycles, minivans, tracters, SUVs, and mules, the sidewalks are decked with Tibetan goods, rugs, incense and food. The market has a characteristic atmosphere. I welcomed the many varieties fruit trucked up from Chengdu. The elevation of Litang is just over 13,000 feet prompting some to call it the highest city in the world however you wouldnt know it from the abundance of the marketplace. Grapes, watermellon, asian pears, peaches, and plums greet you as you enter the market square. The varieties of foods make me long for a kitchen as the rows of ingredients spread out past what the eyes can see. Yak hangs from the rafters, and fish float in buckets on the ground. Pickled roasted garlic and chillis provide fragrence as I pass. The market- what a beautiful place.
The local monesary is newly rebuilt and two new building house some of the largest gold and copper buddahs in the world. The size imparts a certain awe as the snow lions carved on the base a lifesize. The buddas streach 26 meters tall. While certainly beautiful, the multi-million dollar statues impart more artistic impressivness than religious. As a religious statement it is an expensive way to remind yourself that this would is an illusion.
All and all Litang seems to be a prototype Tibetan town. Filled with hustle and honking horns and set in a backdrop of rolling green hills and jagged peaks. A beautiful monestary and a active lay life. Not to mention the good food. I am happy to be here.
The Great Wall
Yesterday we all did the required China tourist trip and went to the Great Wall--whew!! Let me tell you that is one heck of a climb. There were parts that were so steep I had to use my hands and feet to get up the wall. It was treacherous, but it was a good experience.
I have never been heckled so much in my life as I was yesterday. These people called "wall buddies" try to pretend that they are your friend and will speak English to you and teach you some Chinese, they will help you down the mountain and lead you on shortcuts--which are really long cuts that lead you to yet another area in which you have to buy a ticket...and when they are ready to go back to where they started on the wall they try to sell you things for outrageous prices and if you don't buy it they will have an emotional breakdown and tell you about their children and how far they have to come everyday to get to the great wall. So Willie and I had to shell out 150 kuai which only about 20 bucks, but that money can go a long way in china. Anyways, it was a great experience--I learned a lot about what lengths people will go to to earn a buck. But, I am sure those people needed it because they seemed like country folk to me so I feel good about my expensive "wall Buddy" even though it ended badly when she called me cheap and started yelling at me...but it is all for the experience right? Well, that is what I am telling myself. So, I will NEVER go to the great wall again, but I am very glad that I went because it is an experience I will never forget! The wall was so beautiful and the trees and shrubs on the mountains were beautiful. It was so great to be surrounded by history. We even saw the houses that they workers lived in while building the wall. They were stone houses surrounded by corn fields. The workers had an old smooth stone mill that was pulled by horse, and water ponds for drinking and raising fish. The whole walk I just had to repeat to myself for confidence "At least we aren't building it"
Tsampa and Chang... Cup after cup of Good Kharma for a Khampa Couple
Here is an account that I typed up last week, on the 24th of June:
Hey, this is Josh...
I now sit in a Wangba (internet cafe) after a long, wet, and at times
snowy journey on the road eastward, typing up this post, digesting my tang
cu liji and mifan (sweet and sour pork and rice), sipping a cup of tea,
and feeling relieved to be out of the car! We are now in the town of
Dzogang and small sized rural town. We spent all day today in the Landcruisers,
getting here from Rawu, the much smaller town that marked our entrance
into Kham and offered us food and lodging for the last few nights.
Hey, this is Josh...
I now sit in a Wangba (internet cafe) after a long, wet, and at times
snowy journey on the road eastward, typing up this post, digesting my tang
cu liji and mifan (sweet and sour pork and rice), sipping a cup of tea,
and feeling relieved to be out of the car! We are now in the town of
Dzogang and small sized rural town. We spent all day today in the Landcruisers,
getting here from Rawu, the much smaller town that marked our entrance
into Kham and offered us food and lodging for the last few nights.
RAWU
During our stay in Rawu, we took a day trip to the Ngagong area of Kham,
where we were stopped at a gate and payed 20 yuan (about US$ 3) a head to
walk the 3 km to Lhagu village up a steep dirt road winding through
rolling hills of grazing land, dotted with the occasional mud roofed
wooden house, grazing yak or cow, or pile of mani stones. This short hike
allowed us to gape in awe at the Lhagu glacier, remanents of which were
still visible in the lake below, and if the weather had been a little
better we could have seen on the glacial peak above. Like most of this
wonderous and mountain infested land, we were surrounded on all sides by
enormous and breathtaking hills of lush green with a white snowy trim,
and, as we are quickly becoming accustomed to on this side of Tibet, tried
our best to stay dry as a light rain sporadically fell from the constantly
swirling cloud canopy above.
When we reached the village, we were greeted by a few children running
about, offering us "hu-loo"s, waves, and big smiles. After a short stroll
through the village, and older Khampa women gestured for us to follow and
offered us a few words of which I, not surpisingly, did not understand.
We were informed that she was inviting us to her house, so we followed
excited to see inside one of the small domains that lay all around us.
The houses in these small Kham villages are integrated perfectly with their
surroundings, seeming at times to come right out of the hills. They are
made of mud, wood and st one, and often times have a fence made of an intricate
branch weave. As we reached the lady's home, she extended warm
"tashi-delek"s to us, knowing that was probably the limit of our Tibetan
vocabulary, and continually wore a very inviting smile upon her wrinkled
face. We cleaned off our muddy feet and entered her abode, comforted by
the dry warmth and earthy smell of her fire. She signalled for us to sit,
and we gladly and thankfully accepted.
Soon after we were seated, a pot of water was set on the stove to boil,
and the lady brought out a large wooden cylinder, about 3.5 feet high and
8 inches in diameter. This was a Tibetan tea churn, and after the water
beganto boil she poured it into the cylider along with some tea and a
clump of yak butter, and proceeded to draw a large stick in and out of the
churn. Through the wall, we could here a baby's cry, of which the lady
immitated and let out friendly laughter as she churned the hot water, tea,
and yak butter. She then poured this into another kettle and brought out
2 large bowls of fine brown powder. This was Tsampa... Barley flour, and
the meal we were about to indulge in is the primary source of sustinence for most
rural Tibetans.
The buttery liquid was poured into the small bowl that my three companions
and I had each been given, and with a chopstick we mixed in the tsampa,
creating a thick paste that was surprisingly tasty... Kind of like Cheerio
porridge. The lady went to the next room and retrieved the Baby who's
cries had been drifting through the wall, and brought him before us with a
very proud look on her face. Through body language we learned that this
child was our kind hostess' grandaughter, and her parents were out working
on the land. After we had all finished our first bowl, she insisted that
we have another... and another... and another...
Around the time our stomachs were full and we were discussing amongst
ourselves a polite way to deny another helping, an elderly man walked in
with a smile just as intense as that of his wives. He spoke to us in a
low and tired voice, offering us more "tashi-delek"s and staring deeply
and sincerely at us with very kind eyes. He put a bowl of wild onion
chutes down on the trunk next to the stove, and gestured for us to add it
to our next bowl of tsampa, which, to avoid being rude, we all did after
much hesitation.... By this time we all felt as though we would soon
explode. He then uncovered a litre sprite bottle filled with a clear
mystery liquid that, due to the expression on the man's face, we figured
was not sprite. He filled a 2 ounce glass with the liquid and excitedly
handed it to me. We asked him "baijiu" which is Chinese for vodka and he
shook his head no. He pointed to the barley paste, and we figured out
that this was Chang... fermented barley wine. I took it and sipped, as
did the rest of my group. He tried (successfully) to refill our glasses
again... sip sip... and again, but this being scholastic field trip, we
had to deny...
At this point we decided it was probably time to meet the rest of the
group, and tried as politely as possible to leave amidst their continuing
effort to refill our glasses and bowls. So much hospitality... I couldn't
help but think of how much different the treatment that thisTibetan couple
would find if it were they travelling abroad in the country that I call
home. We tried to offer the couple some money, which they denied, and
left to their sad faces, obviously very dissapointed that we could not
stay for a longer visit. We went out the heavy wooden door, deorated with a sun over a moon, a Buddhist symbol signifying the union of compassion and wisdom, and headed back into the cold rain of
Kham and down the trail to rondezvous with the group, much heavier and
warmer from all of the food, and a little lighter on our feet from the chang:
in much better spirits on our damp and awe inspiring walk back to the gate.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Pr Yirong Tea Farm: Past meets Present
Echos of time manifest in the structures built and left, the cultural attitudes cultivated by lived experiances, and the juxtapositions grown over a long history. Po Yirong tea farm is a rural Tibetan village sitting on a rippling lake and surronded by a crown of towering peaks and glaciers. And while the village is predominantly Tibetan, as evidenced by the archetecture and the people, nesstled inbetween these structures are ""1950's era"" stlye numbered dormatories and meeting halls.
The valley is rich in its fertility with a climate that seems to breathe life. With a low elevation for the plateau, the valley is affected by the summer monsoon feeding the farms with daily sprinkles and the melt of glaciers. The climate is unique to the plateau as it is the only viable location for tea production in all of Tibet. This climate more common in east China made the valley also viable for urban to rural relocation.
When asked for the next days weather forecast a local responded "the same tomarrow as it is today." That saying epitomizes the village stuck with the legacy of the ""recent past"" while the world changes dramadically outside the isolation of its mountains. Isolation is a fact of life in Po Yirung as a rough, muddy, and rocky 6 hour car ride is required to reach the nearest urban area (and this a small Tibetan city closer to India than East China). The road hangs over the turbulent Po Zongpo river and is prone to repeated land slide and road outage. The isolation has forced the village to be almost completely self-sufficient. Along with the tea, corn, cabbage, peppers, potatoes, peaches, and squash are grown and the uncultivated margins filled with pig, chicken, and cow. At our meals (prepared by a man from Schizhuan who had lived in the village 50 years) nearly every ingredient was grown locally and organically including the tea we drank.
The valley is rich in its fertility with a climate that seems to breathe life. With a low elevation for the plateau, the valley is affected by the summer monsoon feeding the farms with daily sprinkles and the melt of glaciers. The climate is unique to the plateau as it is the only viable location for tea production in all of Tibet. This climate more common in east China made the valley also viable for urban to rural relocation.
When asked for the next days weather forecast a local responded "the same tomarrow as it is today." That saying epitomizes the village stuck with the legacy of the ""recent past"" while the world changes dramadically outside the isolation of its mountains. Isolation is a fact of life in Po Yirung as a rough, muddy, and rocky 6 hour car ride is required to reach the nearest urban area (and this a small Tibetan city closer to India than East China). The road hangs over the turbulent Po Zongpo river and is prone to repeated land slide and road outage. The isolation has forced the village to be almost completely self-sufficient. Along with the tea, corn, cabbage, peppers, potatoes, peaches, and squash are grown and the uncultivated margins filled with pig, chicken, and cow. At our meals (prepared by a man from Schizhuan who had lived in the village 50 years) nearly every ingredient was grown locally and organically including the tea we drank.
The Tea farm was started in the 1970s to take advantage of the humid and mountainous climate required for tea cultivation. The opportunities associated with the fertile conditions lead a local resident to descibe the village at the time as "busy." Busy enough to fill the large ""1950's style"" auditorium for workers rallys, speeches, and movies. The auditorium is now filled with hay and sand and is shrouded in broken windows and glass.
The village has seen a marked decline in population due to the bankrauptcy of the tea farm in the 1990s. Dispite the regions ability to grow tea, the competiton from tea growers not burdened by such extreme isolation made the tea grown in Po Yirung economically unviable. The village was further pushed over the edge by a flood in 2000 asociated with a dam failure upstream. The flood marooned a boat adjacent to our sparten guest house nearly 1/4 mile for the lakes current level. These events have dropped the population to aproximatly 100 people. The numbered dormatories now sit vacant and deralict. Decomposing partly due to weather and partly due to lack of ownership. Rows of bleak and barren white buildings decay next to fields of corn, waiting for time to return them to the earth.
The juxtapositions of history, the changes inherent in time, the percieved perminance of the present all can be witness here in this rural village. And while the weather is "the same tomarrow as it is today." Each small drop of rain washes the present picture away.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Pictures from Rural Tibet
Enterance to the Po Yirung Nature Reserve
Drigung Monestary
Po Zongpo River Gorge
Resettled Nomad Village in the Drigung Valley
Waterfall in Po Yirung Nature Reserve
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Out and About in Rural Tibet
Carly writes about the Drigung Valley. Home to monestaries, rivers, caves, hotsprings, and snowy peaks.
So, we left Lhasa 3 or 4 days ago I can't even remember. Everything has been such a whirlwind since the day we left--we have been staying at hostels and monestaries for one might then leaving at sun rise the next morining. So, thinking clearly is not my best asset right now. But, I will try to inform all of you as best I can. So, there are 8 of us students and we have 2 teachers with us along with 2 Tibetan guides. We are traveling throughout the whole of Tibet by car. So, we have 3 jeeps along with 3 drivers. I am in a car with Willie, Erin and our guide who was born and raised in Tibet. He is so sweet and knowledgeable and knows 4 languages (Tibetan, Chinese, English and Italian). Actually, most of the people I have been meeting speak at least 3-4 different languages...so it really makes me want to dig deep into my language studies and learn more languages so that I can travel and truly emerse myself into the culture. So far the language barrier hasn't been too bad, but if I spoke Chinese or Tibetan this trip would have many more dimentions and levels that would make it more experiential.
As soon as we left Lhasa we went to a Monestary that was about 14,000 ft in elevation YIKES!! We had some real authentic Tibetan food called momos and they are dumplings made with steamed bread as the covering and yak meat as the filling. I was not used to the taste so it was hard to eat but I tried to stuff at least 2-3 down. It is so crazy how a persons stomach can shrink when they are traveling. I think all of us on the trip have lost at least 5 pounds each so far. It just takes time to get used to the new food and the new surroundings of the resturants. Most resturants have a lot of trash on the ground and things arn't clean--but I think I am used to that now. What I am not used to are the mangy dogs that live on the grounds of the monestary and scrounge for food whereever they can get it. I thought that dogs living at monestaries would be treated well, but they are basically tame wild dogs that must fend for themselves. Many have hip displacia, open wounds, mange or are just plain emaciated. I thought Tijuana was sad--well, let me tell you folks this tops the cake. But, on a lighter note--I see animals everywhere here when we are driving we have to stop at least every hour to let cows, yak, sheep or pigs cross the road. I have never seen anything like it. It always makes my day to see packs of wild animals going on peacefully throughout their day.
So, I have been getting many questions about what I have been eating and what my accomodations are like....well, i must say I definitely have to roll with the punches. The first hotel we stayed at after Lhasa was pretty new, but it was in the middle of nowhere...so I thought I would get a good sleep--WRONG! I didn't realize that trucks drive long distances during the night and have to watch out for yak crossing, so in order for the drivers to scare the yak they honk like hell. They are relentless they will honk 15 to 20 times until the yak move. Then there are the Tibetan guard dogs who also bark 20-30 times...but they dont bark for a reason they just bark for the hell of it. I woke up at 4:00am that morning because the guard dog out front (a little puppy) was barking for what seemed like 3 HOURS!!!!! It was an experience thats for sure. Then the next night we stayed at a monestary named Drigung which was 15,000 ft elevation and the room was the nastiest room I have ever stayed in. There weren't any sheets on the matresses there was no trashcan, no running water and they only has outside toilets. Even though it was rough I really enjoyed it. I mean all of the monks live like that why couldn't I for a night or two. Oh, and all of the bathrooms in China are squtting toilets so you have to have a little strength in your legs before you even think of using the toilet. But, that room had the best view I could have asked for. We were facing beautiful green mountains with snow dusted on top. It was truly magical because at around 8:00pm a thunder storm began. It was so intense because we were at such a high elevation we could see the lighning so clearly it went horizontally across the sky and as we counted 1 one thousand...2 one thousand BAMB another lighning bolt. So we all got excited because it was so close and we all got into one of our friends rooms and watched the thunder storm out of the window and ended up playing dice for the next 2 hours listening to the rain and thunder.
More to come whenever I find a computer,
Carls
So, we left Lhasa 3 or 4 days ago I can't even remember. Everything has been such a whirlwind since the day we left--we have been staying at hostels and monestaries for one might then leaving at sun rise the next morining. So, thinking clearly is not my best asset right now. But, I will try to inform all of you as best I can. So, there are 8 of us students and we have 2 teachers with us along with 2 Tibetan guides. We are traveling throughout the whole of Tibet by car. So, we have 3 jeeps along with 3 drivers. I am in a car with Willie, Erin and our guide who was born and raised in Tibet. He is so sweet and knowledgeable and knows 4 languages (Tibetan, Chinese, English and Italian). Actually, most of the people I have been meeting speak at least 3-4 different languages...so it really makes me want to dig deep into my language studies and learn more languages so that I can travel and truly emerse myself into the culture. So far the language barrier hasn't been too bad, but if I spoke Chinese or Tibetan this trip would have many more dimentions and levels that would make it more experiential.
As soon as we left Lhasa we went to a Monestary that was about 14,000 ft in elevation YIKES!! We had some real authentic Tibetan food called momos and they are dumplings made with steamed bread as the covering and yak meat as the filling. I was not used to the taste so it was hard to eat but I tried to stuff at least 2-3 down. It is so crazy how a persons stomach can shrink when they are traveling. I think all of us on the trip have lost at least 5 pounds each so far. It just takes time to get used to the new food and the new surroundings of the resturants. Most resturants have a lot of trash on the ground and things arn't clean--but I think I am used to that now. What I am not used to are the mangy dogs that live on the grounds of the monestary and scrounge for food whereever they can get it. I thought that dogs living at monestaries would be treated well, but they are basically tame wild dogs that must fend for themselves. Many have hip displacia, open wounds, mange or are just plain emaciated. I thought Tijuana was sad--well, let me tell you folks this tops the cake. But, on a lighter note--I see animals everywhere here when we are driving we have to stop at least every hour to let cows, yak, sheep or pigs cross the road. I have never seen anything like it. It always makes my day to see packs of wild animals going on peacefully throughout their day.
So, I have been getting many questions about what I have been eating and what my accomodations are like....well, i must say I definitely have to roll with the punches. The first hotel we stayed at after Lhasa was pretty new, but it was in the middle of nowhere...so I thought I would get a good sleep--WRONG! I didn't realize that trucks drive long distances during the night and have to watch out for yak crossing, so in order for the drivers to scare the yak they honk like hell. They are relentless they will honk 15 to 20 times until the yak move. Then there are the Tibetan guard dogs who also bark 20-30 times...but they dont bark for a reason they just bark for the hell of it. I woke up at 4:00am that morning because the guard dog out front (a little puppy) was barking for what seemed like 3 HOURS!!!!! It was an experience thats for sure. Then the next night we stayed at a monestary named Drigung which was 15,000 ft elevation and the room was the nastiest room I have ever stayed in. There weren't any sheets on the matresses there was no trashcan, no running water and they only has outside toilets. Even though it was rough I really enjoyed it. I mean all of the monks live like that why couldn't I for a night or two. Oh, and all of the bathrooms in China are squtting toilets so you have to have a little strength in your legs before you even think of using the toilet. But, that room had the best view I could have asked for. We were facing beautiful green mountains with snow dusted on top. It was truly magical because at around 8:00pm a thunder storm began. It was so intense because we were at such a high elevation we could see the lighning so clearly it went horizontally across the sky and as we counted 1 one thousand...2 one thousand BAMB another lighning bolt. So we all got excited because it was so close and we all got into one of our friends rooms and watched the thunder storm out of the window and ended up playing dice for the next 2 hours listening to the rain and thunder.
More to come whenever I find a computer,
Carls
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Lhasa: A Tourist Prespective
This is written by fellow traveller Josh, a very knowledable religious studies major.
Arrived in Lhasa after a 48 hr train trip yesterday... Feels really goodto be out of the polluted and crowded streets of Beijing and off of thetrain. Some amazing views on that train ride while traversing the TibetanPlateau, and Lhasa's surrounding scenery is even more breathtakinglybeautiful than I could have imagined. It does stir emotions to see thatthis city, though aestheticaly pleasing naturally, culturally andspiritually, (prayer flags decorating the rooftops and certain sacredpoints in the surrounding hills, gorgeous temples with gold leaved roofsand trim decorated with the auspicious Buddhist symbols, and beutifulTibetan rugs and clothing mades by the locals) still, this is very much aChinese city today. Looking at the architecture outside of the centre around the Jokhang temple, one could easily think that they were in any urban chinese area, minus the amazing views and clean air allowing one tosee a blue sky dotted with clouds that allow the very unique depictions of clouds that can be seen in Tibetan Tankha art to make a lot more sense.We spent today walking around the Barkhor: the fomous block surroundingthe Jokhang Temple - one of Tibet's most spiritually significant locations. While once strictly a sacred circumembulation path for adherents of the Dharma locally and for Buddhist pilgrims from far acrossthe vast cultural area that embraces Tibet's unique brand of Buddhism touse when their long and painstaking pilgrimage to Lhasa has finallyreached an end, the Barkhor today is mostly a tourist centered shopping district, where Tourists can come to see "Tibetan" spiritual culture andeven take a little peice of it home with them via a set of mala beads, aTibetan singing bowl, some monastic robes, or a hand painted mandala, toname a few of the common souvenirs to be found. There are still many pilgrims, devout Buddhists, and robed monks that can be seen frequently prostrating, chanting, twiddling mala beads in their fingers, and/orcalmly spinning prayer wheels as they circumembulate the Barkhor's circular network of road in a clockwise fashion, but the majority of the many people to be seen in this area are the merchants working the many stands, locals playing pool and just relaxing, a few tourists walking around with dumbfounded, gawking expressions of amazement on their faces as they patronize the many shops and stands, purchasing inscense,clothing, prayer beads, and snapping pictures, or beggars asking for a few"fen" and shouting "hu-loo (hello)" at people they assume (usually correctly) to be rich Americans (like myself) as they walk by. Iam not positive of this fact, but it seems to me like the few monasticallyrobed beggars that one will see while walking about the Barkhor districtare not truly monks, but simply lay folk trying to use their maroon robesas an expedient means *(upaya) to heighten their financial intake for theday. The Jokhang temple is one of the most spiritually significant sitesin Tibet, and this explains why it is the destination of a very importantBuddhist pilgrimage route. The Jokhang tample was builty in the early 7th century by Tibet's first Buddhist "Dharma King" Songsten Gampo, along withmany other temples and sacred Chortens in a geographical manner holdingmuch cultural and religious significance. Historically (and currently tosome extent I assume), Tibetans have viewed their land as being adestructive demoness, explained by harsh storms in the winter and theintense sun of the summer, who was very angered when the Buddha's Dharmacame to Tibet. The sites chosen as sacred spots were chosen in a veryspecific manner, intending to subdue and restrain this Demoness (her name is escaping me. I think it might be 'Simo'). I have also read somewherethat the sacred sites chosen by King Gampo mark out an enormous mandala onthe land, the Jokhang being the center of this sacred mandala.Towering above Lhasa is the Potala palace, built by the "great 5th", whichis definitely one of the architectural wonders of the world. Once a very important pilgrimage site along the route to Lhasa, today it is best defined as aTourist trap. Today Tony went to the potala, as you must make reservations a day in advance to even walk onto this bustling and once very sacred spot, to reserve our group some tickets to take a tour tomorrow of the prior home of the Tibetan people's highly venerated physical embodiment of Chenrizeg, the Bodhisattva of compassion. I found it very interesting that while looking towards the Potala from arooftop in the Barkhor (most amazing veiw of Lhasa I have seen yet: manyTibetan buildings all strewm with prayerflags in the foreground, the Potala's magnificance close behind, and an absolutely stunning panorama ofjagged peaks, some snowcapped in the foreground, blue sky and white cloudsslowly dancing high above in an amazing display), not far to the left ofthe Potala on a hill that is about the same size as the one upon which thePotala sits, is erected a very large cell-phone tower, standing much incontrast to the awesome Tibetan mountains proudly standing high above inthe distance. This is an excellent metaphor that can represent today'sTibet - China's Tibet - Xizang.The people here seem to be much warmer and friendlier than those I saw inBeijing, many more people embracing, many more smiles, and I just get amuch deeper and more enjoyable feeling throughout my entire being whilehere than I did in Beijing. As I walked through the Barkhor early thismorning, whne their where many people circumembulating, an old robedbuddhist, chanting and spinning his prayer wheel, kept approaching me frombehind and rubbing my arm a little below the elbow, exending a"tashi-delei" and a warm smile as I looked back at him. I learned from afellow traveller later that the Tibetans get a kick out of the arm-hair ofa white-boy ---- it is very strange to them.
Arrived in Lhasa after a 48 hr train trip yesterday... Feels really goodto be out of the polluted and crowded streets of Beijing and off of thetrain. Some amazing views on that train ride while traversing the TibetanPlateau, and Lhasa's surrounding scenery is even more breathtakinglybeautiful than I could have imagined. It does stir emotions to see thatthis city, though aestheticaly pleasing naturally, culturally andspiritually, (prayer flags decorating the rooftops and certain sacredpoints in the surrounding hills, gorgeous temples with gold leaved roofsand trim decorated with the auspicious Buddhist symbols, and beutifulTibetan rugs and clothing mades by the locals) still, this is very much aChinese city today. Looking at the architecture outside of the centre around the Jokhang temple, one could easily think that they were in any urban chinese area, minus the amazing views and clean air allowing one tosee a blue sky dotted with clouds that allow the very unique depictions of clouds that can be seen in Tibetan Tankha art to make a lot more sense.We spent today walking around the Barkhor: the fomous block surroundingthe Jokhang Temple - one of Tibet's most spiritually significant locations. While once strictly a sacred circumembulation path for adherents of the Dharma locally and for Buddhist pilgrims from far acrossthe vast cultural area that embraces Tibet's unique brand of Buddhism touse when their long and painstaking pilgrimage to Lhasa has finallyreached an end, the Barkhor today is mostly a tourist centered shopping district, where Tourists can come to see "Tibetan" spiritual culture andeven take a little peice of it home with them via a set of mala beads, aTibetan singing bowl, some monastic robes, or a hand painted mandala, toname a few of the common souvenirs to be found. There are still many pilgrims, devout Buddhists, and robed monks that can be seen frequently prostrating, chanting, twiddling mala beads in their fingers, and/orcalmly spinning prayer wheels as they circumembulate the Barkhor's circular network of road in a clockwise fashion, but the majority of the many people to be seen in this area are the merchants working the many stands, locals playing pool and just relaxing, a few tourists walking around with dumbfounded, gawking expressions of amazement on their faces as they patronize the many shops and stands, purchasing inscense,clothing, prayer beads, and snapping pictures, or beggars asking for a few"fen" and shouting "hu-loo (hello)" at people they assume (usually correctly) to be rich Americans (like myself) as they walk by. Iam not positive of this fact, but it seems to me like the few monasticallyrobed beggars that one will see while walking about the Barkhor districtare not truly monks, but simply lay folk trying to use their maroon robesas an expedient means *(upaya) to heighten their financial intake for theday. The Jokhang temple is one of the most spiritually significant sitesin Tibet, and this explains why it is the destination of a very importantBuddhist pilgrimage route. The Jokhang tample was builty in the early 7th century by Tibet's first Buddhist "Dharma King" Songsten Gampo, along withmany other temples and sacred Chortens in a geographical manner holdingmuch cultural and religious significance. Historically (and currently tosome extent I assume), Tibetans have viewed their land as being adestructive demoness, explained by harsh storms in the winter and theintense sun of the summer, who was very angered when the Buddha's Dharmacame to Tibet. The sites chosen as sacred spots were chosen in a veryspecific manner, intending to subdue and restrain this Demoness (her name is escaping me. I think it might be 'Simo'). I have also read somewherethat the sacred sites chosen by King Gampo mark out an enormous mandala onthe land, the Jokhang being the center of this sacred mandala.Towering above Lhasa is the Potala palace, built by the "great 5th", whichis definitely one of the architectural wonders of the world. Once a very important pilgrimage site along the route to Lhasa, today it is best defined as aTourist trap. Today Tony went to the potala, as you must make reservations a day in advance to even walk onto this bustling and once very sacred spot, to reserve our group some tickets to take a tour tomorrow of the prior home of the Tibetan people's highly venerated physical embodiment of Chenrizeg, the Bodhisattva of compassion. I found it very interesting that while looking towards the Potala from arooftop in the Barkhor (most amazing veiw of Lhasa I have seen yet: manyTibetan buildings all strewm with prayerflags in the foreground, the Potala's magnificance close behind, and an absolutely stunning panorama ofjagged peaks, some snowcapped in the foreground, blue sky and white cloudsslowly dancing high above in an amazing display), not far to the left ofthe Potala on a hill that is about the same size as the one upon which thePotala sits, is erected a very large cell-phone tower, standing much incontrast to the awesome Tibetan mountains proudly standing high above inthe distance. This is an excellent metaphor that can represent today'sTibet - China's Tibet - Xizang.The people here seem to be much warmer and friendlier than those I saw inBeijing, many more people embracing, many more smiles, and I just get amuch deeper and more enjoyable feeling throughout my entire being whilehere than I did in Beijing. As I walked through the Barkhor early thismorning, whne their where many people circumembulating, an old robedbuddhist, chanting and spinning his prayer wheel, kept approaching me frombehind and rubbing my arm a little below the elbow, exending a"tashi-delei" and a warm smile as I looked back at him. I learned from afellow traveller later that the Tibetans get a kick out of the arm-hair ofa white-boy ---- it is very strange to them.
Lhasa: A Pilgrams Perspective
An interuption of the previously schedueled Great Wall post with this breaking announcement from my time in Lhasa. Video of this adventure upon my return to America.
First a few definitions
Jokang Temple- the central temple in Lhasa's sacred geography. One of the first temples to be built there.
Barkor- the circular path of buildings, offering fires, and goods stalls that surrounds the Jokang.
Lhasa, Day 3
My day began with a charcteristically bland western breakfest that Carly and I shared before venturing off for the day. Carly had schedueled some time with our professor to interview some local hui muslims near the mosque in town and I had an unplanned day ahead of me with only a hope of visiting a few supermarkets. After breakfast Carly and I went our seperate ways and I headed back to the hotel. On the path back to the room is the Jokang temple. The day before we had walked part of the Barkor path encircling the temple before heading down a side alley for lunch. As I watched the offering fires fill the square with incese and the many pillgams flow round the temple like a flowing river, I decided that I should not let the opportunity to enter pass me by. First I am greeted by questioning glances as the morning is the time for pillgrams to walk the circut and afternoon is the time for tourists. I steel my nerves dispite the many looks and make my way into the flow with thoughts of an early exit. Just as the thought of leaving entered my head I got a tap on the shoulder. I turn and a young monk bows his head, lifts a neckless of of his neck and places it onto mine. Tujay chay (thank you) I quickly reply as it is the only tibetan I know and is an apt opportunity for its use. He motions for me to follow him and I pull out my phrase book to tell him that it is beautiful and I appreciate the gift. He walks over to a stall selling robes and puts one on. Many interested tibetans come up looking at the phrasebook and the spectical that is a westerner and a monk. The browsing that the monk is doing made me slightly uncomfortable since I didn't know where this interaction was going. Then the monk puts down the robes and directs me to a spot I thought I was familiar with from the other walk. We move behind the second offering fire to a small building that houses a prayer wheel as big as the room and a shine directly behind. The monk pulls my hand to the wheel and we spin shrouded in candle light and chanting. We exit the room after a few spinsand head down a small alleyway off of the barkor and headed for the center of the jokang. The ally is packed full of people who are lining up into a doorway. Tibetan drums pound away as we enter the room. A 9 foot Budda presides over a room full of dieties and their devotees. The second story of the building is even more filled as the line up spans the stairway and the room. Blessing are being given by a monk to 7 or so people at a time. Each set kneels before the chanting monk who proceeds to tap each person on the back of the head with a golden lightning bolt then a round of liquid is poured over each bowed head while prayers are said. The ritual prompts me to pull out my video camara to start filming but the monk motioned that it was time to go. We reached to alleyway through the crowds. The monk sees the small camara in my hand and asks to see it. I hand it over and from this point on the monk is filming the experiance. We walk down the alleyway more toward the center and pass a hall lined with small spinning prayer wheels. Each passerby spins the wheels as they walk. We walk up a staircase to the second story balcony.
Some places convey a sense of centrality. Where the essence of a people, an institution, or an occurance is clear, evident, and simple. A place where there is not one more secret hidden behind a locked door or something missing that deminishes a wholeness of experance. The jokang temple is meant to be such a place. It was built with a sacred geometry in mind. The Jokang is the center of the mandala that Lhasa was designed upon. When I stepped out of the Barkor encircling the temple and headed straight to the physical center of the circuit, I walked into the spiritual center of Tibetan Buddism. I saw clearly the collective power and unity of Tibetan Buddism in action.
From the second story, I had a long view of hunderds of people chanting and spinning prayer wheels in an open courtyard. Everything was in constat motion as the prayer wheels spun and the devotees entered and exited with offereing. This is Tibetan Buddism in action, not like to empty Potala only traveled by tourists. Nor was it the tourist filled afternoon Barkor filled with chanting merchants hawking their wares. This was the real thing. The real people in a very real place. The soul was intact. This was a place for the Tibetans not the tourists.
We made our way down to the courtyard floor and I began to feel my own presance as heads turned to see the camera wielding monk with the westerner in tow. I kept to following my guide monk directing tashidaley (good forturne) and tujay-chay (thank you) to all those we past. We emter the shrine room where people were offering yak butter and other liquids to the numerous dieties in the room. We circled through the room and made our way to the roof. Again togeather we were an intreguing sight and I was asked many questions that language barriers kept me from answering. We found a quiet corner filled with elder tibetans and an anny (nun) chanting and laughing with their prayer wheels in hand. They offered us a seat and we accepted. The monk handed me a prayer wheel and spoke the chant for me to repeat. "Ohm-pani-mani-sih" The group had a good laugh at my ackward spinning (its harder than it looks). A few new people came and we gave up our seats for the elders, bowed our heads, and headed back for the Barkor. On my way out to the courtyard and elderly woman stuck out her hand for a donation. I was feeling generous as I knew that I had been given all ones as change at breakfast and that was a sign that I should be giving. I put a bill in her hand and five more emerged. I would later find out that this is a temple frequented by many beggers. By the time we made it back to the Barkor, I had only one kuai for the monk. As we began to circle again on the Barkor, I pulled out the my phrase book to ask the monk his name. I point to the phrase, no reply, only a quick conversation with with some chinese tourists that ends in a laugh. I ask again, he motions to his mouth as if he wants to eat. I ask again, he puts his hand on my neck and pulls our heads togeather and he says thank you in english. I open to the page to ask him if he wants to eat but we are interupted by a Chinese tourist fascinated by a monk and a westerner interacting and when we look at him as he trys to take a picture he say "keep talking." We walk past him into the Barkor square where we started this story. This time through a new character emerges, TASHI DALEY a Tibetan professor of archetecure and art who speaks flawless english. He come up to me and asks me about my relationship with the monk, "Is he your friend?" The monk continues walking. I keep an eye on him as I reply, "No, I just met him this morning." The monk moves into a crowd and the smoke as TASHI says, "You must be careful there are many fake monks around." The monk dissappeared and TASHI DALEY emerges.
First a few definitions
Jokang Temple- the central temple in Lhasa's sacred geography. One of the first temples to be built there.
Barkor- the circular path of buildings, offering fires, and goods stalls that surrounds the Jokang.
Lhasa, Day 3
My day began with a charcteristically bland western breakfest that Carly and I shared before venturing off for the day. Carly had schedueled some time with our professor to interview some local hui muslims near the mosque in town and I had an unplanned day ahead of me with only a hope of visiting a few supermarkets. After breakfast Carly and I went our seperate ways and I headed back to the hotel. On the path back to the room is the Jokang temple. The day before we had walked part of the Barkor path encircling the temple before heading down a side alley for lunch. As I watched the offering fires fill the square with incese and the many pillgams flow round the temple like a flowing river, I decided that I should not let the opportunity to enter pass me by. First I am greeted by questioning glances as the morning is the time for pillgrams to walk the circut and afternoon is the time for tourists. I steel my nerves dispite the many looks and make my way into the flow with thoughts of an early exit. Just as the thought of leaving entered my head I got a tap on the shoulder. I turn and a young monk bows his head, lifts a neckless of of his neck and places it onto mine. Tujay chay (thank you) I quickly reply as it is the only tibetan I know and is an apt opportunity for its use. He motions for me to follow him and I pull out my phrase book to tell him that it is beautiful and I appreciate the gift. He walks over to a stall selling robes and puts one on. Many interested tibetans come up looking at the phrasebook and the spectical that is a westerner and a monk. The browsing that the monk is doing made me slightly uncomfortable since I didn't know where this interaction was going. Then the monk puts down the robes and directs me to a spot I thought I was familiar with from the other walk. We move behind the second offering fire to a small building that houses a prayer wheel as big as the room and a shine directly behind. The monk pulls my hand to the wheel and we spin shrouded in candle light and chanting. We exit the room after a few spinsand head down a small alleyway off of the barkor and headed for the center of the jokang. The ally is packed full of people who are lining up into a doorway. Tibetan drums pound away as we enter the room. A 9 foot Budda presides over a room full of dieties and their devotees. The second story of the building is even more filled as the line up spans the stairway and the room. Blessing are being given by a monk to 7 or so people at a time. Each set kneels before the chanting monk who proceeds to tap each person on the back of the head with a golden lightning bolt then a round of liquid is poured over each bowed head while prayers are said. The ritual prompts me to pull out my video camara to start filming but the monk motioned that it was time to go. We reached to alleyway through the crowds. The monk sees the small camara in my hand and asks to see it. I hand it over and from this point on the monk is filming the experiance. We walk down the alleyway more toward the center and pass a hall lined with small spinning prayer wheels. Each passerby spins the wheels as they walk. We walk up a staircase to the second story balcony.
Some places convey a sense of centrality. Where the essence of a people, an institution, or an occurance is clear, evident, and simple. A place where there is not one more secret hidden behind a locked door or something missing that deminishes a wholeness of experance. The jokang temple is meant to be such a place. It was built with a sacred geometry in mind. The Jokang is the center of the mandala that Lhasa was designed upon. When I stepped out of the Barkor encircling the temple and headed straight to the physical center of the circuit, I walked into the spiritual center of Tibetan Buddism. I saw clearly the collective power and unity of Tibetan Buddism in action.
From the second story, I had a long view of hunderds of people chanting and spinning prayer wheels in an open courtyard. Everything was in constat motion as the prayer wheels spun and the devotees entered and exited with offereing. This is Tibetan Buddism in action, not like to empty Potala only traveled by tourists. Nor was it the tourist filled afternoon Barkor filled with chanting merchants hawking their wares. This was the real thing. The real people in a very real place. The soul was intact. This was a place for the Tibetans not the tourists.
We made our way down to the courtyard floor and I began to feel my own presance as heads turned to see the camera wielding monk with the westerner in tow. I kept to following my guide monk directing tashidaley (good forturne) and tujay-chay (thank you) to all those we past. We emter the shrine room where people were offering yak butter and other liquids to the numerous dieties in the room. We circled through the room and made our way to the roof. Again togeather we were an intreguing sight and I was asked many questions that language barriers kept me from answering. We found a quiet corner filled with elder tibetans and an anny (nun) chanting and laughing with their prayer wheels in hand. They offered us a seat and we accepted. The monk handed me a prayer wheel and spoke the chant for me to repeat. "Ohm-pani-mani-sih" The group had a good laugh at my ackward spinning (its harder than it looks). A few new people came and we gave up our seats for the elders, bowed our heads, and headed back for the Barkor. On my way out to the courtyard and elderly woman stuck out her hand for a donation. I was feeling generous as I knew that I had been given all ones as change at breakfast and that was a sign that I should be giving. I put a bill in her hand and five more emerged. I would later find out that this is a temple frequented by many beggers. By the time we made it back to the Barkor, I had only one kuai for the monk. As we began to circle again on the Barkor, I pulled out the my phrase book to ask the monk his name. I point to the phrase, no reply, only a quick conversation with with some chinese tourists that ends in a laugh. I ask again, he motions to his mouth as if he wants to eat. I ask again, he puts his hand on my neck and pulls our heads togeather and he says thank you in english. I open to the page to ask him if he wants to eat but we are interupted by a Chinese tourist fascinated by a monk and a westerner interacting and when we look at him as he trys to take a picture he say "keep talking." We walk past him into the Barkor square where we started this story. This time through a new character emerges, TASHI DALEY a Tibetan professor of archetecure and art who speaks flawless english. He come up to me and asks me about my relationship with the monk, "Is he your friend?" The monk continues walking. I keep an eye on him as I reply, "No, I just met him this morning." The monk moves into a crowd and the smoke as TASHI says, "You must be careful there are many fake monks around." The monk dissappeared and TASHI DALEY emerges.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Big City Streets: the other Beijing
I'm telling you everyone in Beijing is lovin' it...all of it
The streets of Beijing are American freeway size. The only difference is that everyone is on the road: cars, buses, bikers, pedestrians, pedicabs, pets, and police. And no one seems to strickly follow any rules of the road except "I would rather not hit you since it would make me late for work." I am happy to say that may bob and weave skill proved up to the challange.
Moment with a Street Vendor
This hui muslim man set up his kabob stand as the sun went down, stoking hot coals in the palpable Beijing atmosphere. Sweat dripping from his forehead he served up lamb on a stick for 1 kuai (1/7th of a dollar) with speed and grace as the spices sprinked from his hand.
He is blurry because I couldn't get the man to slow down even for a second.
Monday, June 11, 2007
Whew I made it out of Beijing
Currently I am sitting in the internet cafe of the Yak Hotel in Lhasa after 1 week and 10000 miles of traveling. Time has lost its backbone since my movements have radically altered my rythms. I appologize for my lack of posting from Beijing since I was waiting to bring you photos. I will upload photos latter in my day.
Beijing is a city of alleys surrounded and topped a gigantic and sprawling metropolis. I was lucky enough to stay at a youth hostel hidden from the many major biways in a beautifully alive complex of alleys. The alley is the communal living space for the nieghborhood. It is where good are bought and sold, where friends congregate to play majong and drink a few, where trash is dumped, and music played. The alley really comes alive at night after the foodstalls have finished preparing their little eats. The alley transforms from a throughfare to a party. I must comment on the Chinese ability to narrowly avoid accidents and fit through incredibly tight spaces. The alleyway I was stay in was about 15 feet wide and is mostly used by pedsetrians and bicycles. Now I say mostly because cars, van, and trucks also barrel through at suprising speed charging to within inches of basically everything. This is how I enter Beijing, at a nightmarket in a minivan. Somehow we made it and no one died the whole time.
The many other sides of Beijing are quickly found by just looking up. One is the buildings and the other is the pollution. Both are omnipresent. The pollution is as bad as advertized but an advertisment is nothing like the real thing. On the second day we did the standered tourist circa, (Tienimen, Forbidden City, and also BaiHai Lake which is next to the summer palace of the emperor). I spent about 8 hours outside that day and by the end my lungs felt tight and restricted. The smog is like a vail that hides your nose from your face. At the vista from Bai Hai we had a 360 view of Beijing and most of it was hidden in the haze. Only the outlines of building and cranes could be seen. It made it seem as if Beijing just streached out forever and in reality if forever meant anything concrete it would streach out forever.
I had a impactful time in Beijing, I enjoyed sitting in Tienimen watching the crowds and thinking about the past as Mao stared me down. I laughed as I walked out of the hot brown into a air conditioned and sterile white shopping mall. I feasted on authentic Chinese food, peking duck jellyfish, hot pot, and so much more. And I marveled at the enduring history of a civilization that is in fact not history but contemporary.
Speaking of living history the next installment will be from the great wall.
Good Bye and Best Wishes from Lhasa
Willie
Beijing is a city of alleys surrounded and topped a gigantic and sprawling metropolis. I was lucky enough to stay at a youth hostel hidden from the many major biways in a beautifully alive complex of alleys. The alley is the communal living space for the nieghborhood. It is where good are bought and sold, where friends congregate to play majong and drink a few, where trash is dumped, and music played. The alley really comes alive at night after the foodstalls have finished preparing their little eats. The alley transforms from a throughfare to a party. I must comment on the Chinese ability to narrowly avoid accidents and fit through incredibly tight spaces. The alleyway I was stay in was about 15 feet wide and is mostly used by pedsetrians and bicycles. Now I say mostly because cars, van, and trucks also barrel through at suprising speed charging to within inches of basically everything. This is how I enter Beijing, at a nightmarket in a minivan. Somehow we made it and no one died the whole time.
The many other sides of Beijing are quickly found by just looking up. One is the buildings and the other is the pollution. Both are omnipresent. The pollution is as bad as advertized but an advertisment is nothing like the real thing. On the second day we did the standered tourist circa, (Tienimen, Forbidden City, and also BaiHai Lake which is next to the summer palace of the emperor). I spent about 8 hours outside that day and by the end my lungs felt tight and restricted. The smog is like a vail that hides your nose from your face. At the vista from Bai Hai we had a 360 view of Beijing and most of it was hidden in the haze. Only the outlines of building and cranes could be seen. It made it seem as if Beijing just streached out forever and in reality if forever meant anything concrete it would streach out forever.
I had a impactful time in Beijing, I enjoyed sitting in Tienimen watching the crowds and thinking about the past as Mao stared me down. I laughed as I walked out of the hot brown into a air conditioned and sterile white shopping mall. I feasted on authentic Chinese food, peking duck jellyfish, hot pot, and so much more. And I marveled at the enduring history of a civilization that is in fact not history but contemporary.
Speaking of living history the next installment will be from the great wall.
Good Bye and Best Wishes from Lhasa
Willie
Friday, June 1, 2007
Two Days to Planes
This is the beginning. Today, my mom and I took care of money matters and medicines and I am basically ready to step on the plane.
This blog's purpose is to bring contemporary photos and pertinent captions to you from the other side of the world. I'll leave you with a sample shot of the devilish Bristle Cone Pines in the Eastern Sierra's of California
This blog's purpose is to bring contemporary photos and pertinent captions to you from the other side of the world. I'll leave you with a sample shot of the devilish Bristle Cone Pines in the Eastern Sierra's of California
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