We woke up bright and early our first day in Lhasa. Ryan and I were both excited to see what the city had to offer. Ryan took a tour around the Dalai Lamas former summer residence while I walked the streets. I was curious to see how the people lived and what I could differentiate from the Tibetans and the Chinese.
First, there are a lot of Chinese in Lhasa. Most of the small streets I wandered were occupied by migrants or peasants, just live every other big Chinese city. The Tibetans are easy to pick out though, especially the pilgrims.
Since Lhasa is a sacred place, pilgrims come from hundreds of kilometers away to pay tribute to the city. Almost all of them had a prayer wheel, something that resembles a tin can on a stick, that they twirl in a clock-wise motion. They are dressed in country clothes and big hats and, the scary thing, is that they looked to be all over 60. Our tour guide guessed that in 20 years there would be no more pilgrims. They have hard, brown, beaten faces. They are much larger than the average Asian, but somehow they maintain a friendly glow. They follow certain routes around the city and I found myself following them to see what it was all about. They stopped at small temples that were packed with people being blessed by monks. Around another corner they rubbed their knee on a rock. The rock had been rubbed by so many knees that it was indented and shined a polished black. The route led to the old city, and that was where things got scary.
There are armed guards stationed on every street. By armed guards I mean 17 year-olds with rifles, pistols, bats, and shields. They marched the streets in lines of fives in order to 'keep the peace'. There were cameras watching from all the small alley intersections. On buildings men with sniper rifles would patiently score the scene. I have to say this took away the general "Tibetan feeling". The whole time we were there it felt like there was someone or something watching us. Saying that, the old city was, overrated. The streets are lined with merchants selling the exact same crap that is sold all over China. The buildings, all about four stories, were peeling and crumbling. Because of the riots in March tourism was down and this made the touts even more eager to sell their rocks, silk, and other tourist paraphernalia.
We were given a tour of the holiest temple in all of Tibet, which was again repetitive. The tombs however, were of great interest. Some of them were so huge and so valuable it was amazing to see how accessible they were. Although it would be a good heist, I think getting out of Lhasa with a 10 ton tomb would be difficult. I did learn about the different type of Buddhisms though. And I took a special interest in the Red Sect, where they use sex to get to higher levels of spirituality.
Showing posts with label Buddhism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Buddhism. Show all posts
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Friday, September 5, 2008
What were they thinking?
With villages turning the power out at 9:00pm, these days make for early nights. I usually wake up before 7:00am, and this day was no different. I put on some Moby, did some stretches, and then went down to sort out my day. To get to the Water Curtain
Cave you needed a taxi. The manager of my hotel insisted that walking was unreasonable and renting a bike was out of the question. So I went to the market and spent .50 cents on 3 cucumbers, 2 oranges, and 1 thing I had never seen before. They called it a quackqua.
The driver was waiting for me when I got back.
The drive was beautiful; fresh, crisp morning air mixed with a peach sunrise. When the driver turned off the road and onto a river bed I understood what my hotel manager was talking about. Two years ago they built a road along the river bed.
What were they thinking?
The next year, like every year, the water swelled between the narrow canyon and wiped it out. Now slabs lay all over the river bed. Some of the road had been completely washed away, another part still lay dormant. The further we drove up the river the more the scenery mutilated. The hills once patchy and terraced were now what appeared to be brown, stubby, cactus shaped mountains.
There's a few times in my life where I've arrived at a place and my jaw has dropped. This was one of them
Above me was a 50 meter high mural carved into the rock. The picture was 1400 years old. One huge Buddha man sat solemnly while two women fanned him with flowers. (I swear Buddhas must have been the most attractive guys in their days. I always see pictures of them surrounded by women who look like they are dying to please such big, holy men).
I wanted to get a closer look. Rickety stair cases had been built up along the paintings, but as I approached shouts echoed through the mountains. Before I knew it a magic little man with a beard appeared and told me to get down. He warned that the stair case could break at any moment. I was already 20 meters high, 3 km up a river bed, and who knows how far away from the nearest hygienic hospital.
I got down.
Later the magic man explained it was their job to "protect the Buddha". I guess they still haven't forgotten about the 'evil' European imperialists who came to China in the late 1800s and stole precious artifacts and left thousands of Buddha statues decapitated.
Understandable.
On the mountain I found an amazing little temple that dated back to the same period. The paintings on the walls were so impressive. Who would think they were so artistic in the 600's. The temple air was thick with aromatic white smoke. An old women kowtowed before the temple chanting a very rhythmic song. The birds chirped and the crickets sang, around me their was nothing to prove I was in the 21st century. That was until the music started.
As I was leaving the magic man turned into a dj and started blasting Buddhist tunes out the speakers. The notes bounced off all the mountains and added to the atmosphere of area. While studying the surrounding hills carefully you could see remnants of other paintings and small objects carved into the mountains.
What were they thinking?
What drove these zealous people to express their enthusiasm for Buddhism this way? Actually, the whole province is dotted with holy places like this one. Some paintings are in caves and others are in tombs. The more I explore this ancient province the more I uncover the works of the Silk Road Buddhists.
I left the temple on foot. I decided a walk through the gorge would be peaceful. About halfway through the sun began to beat unbearable heat on my bald head. I searched for my suncream in vain. Then I remembered I left it in the hotel.
Cave you needed a taxi. The manager of my hotel insisted that walking was unreasonable and renting a bike was out of the question. So I went to the market and spent .50 cents on 3 cucumbers, 2 oranges, and 1 thing I had never seen before. They called it a quackqua.The driver was waiting for me when I got back.
The drive was beautiful; fresh, crisp morning air mixed with a peach sunrise. When the driver turned off the road and onto a river bed I understood what my hotel manager was talking about. Two years ago they built a road along the river bed.
What were they thinking?
The next year, like every year, the water swelled between the narrow canyon and wiped it out. Now slabs lay all over the river bed. Some of the road had been completely washed away, another part still lay dormant. The further we drove up the river the more the scenery mutilated. The hills once patchy and terraced were now what appeared to be brown, stubby, cactus shaped mountains.
There's a few times in my life where I've arrived at a place and my jaw has dropped. This was one of them
Above me was a 50 meter high mural carved into the rock. The picture was 1400 years old. One huge Buddha man sat solemnly while two women fanned him with flowers. (I swear Buddhas must have been the most attractive guys in their days. I always see pictures of them surrounded by women who look like they are dying to please such big, holy men).
I wanted to get a closer look. Rickety stair cases had been built up along the paintings, but as I approached shouts echoed through the mountains. Before I knew it a magic little man with a beard appeared and told me to get down. He warned that the stair case could break at any moment. I was already 20 meters high, 3 km up a river bed, and who knows how far away from the nearest hygienic hospital.
I got down.
Later the magic man explained it was their job to "protect the Buddha". I guess they still haven't forgotten about the 'evil' European imperialists who came to China in the late 1800s and stole precious artifacts and left thousands of Buddha statues decapitated.
Understandable.On the mountain I found an amazing little temple that dated back to the same period. The paintings on the walls were so impressive. Who would think they were so artistic in the 600's. The temple air was thick with aromatic white smoke. An old women kowtowed before the temple chanting a very rhythmic song. The birds chirped and the crickets sang, around me their was nothing to prove I was in the 21st century. That was until the music started.
As I was leaving the magic man turned into a dj and started blasting Buddhist tunes out the speakers. The notes bounced off all the mountains and added to the atmosphere of area. While studying the surrounding hills carefully you could see remnants of other paintings and small objects carved into the mountains.
What were they thinking?
What drove these zealous people to express their enthusiasm for Buddhism this way? Actually, the whole province is dotted with holy places like this one. Some paintings are in caves and others are in tombs. The more I explore this ancient province the more I uncover the works of the Silk Road Buddhists.
I left the temple on foot. I decided a walk through the gorge would be peaceful. About halfway through the sun began to beat unbearable heat on my bald head. I searched for my suncream in vain. Then I remembered I left it in the hotel.
What was I thinking?
More pics
http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=1212562&l=199d2&id=506336427
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