Chengdu has been full of unique and unforgetable experiances which soon will be illumiated. This is just a batch of photos becasue I found an internet bar fast enough to do the task. Thanks for your paticence , stories coming soon.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
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.
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