Sian calls him the Tibetan James Dean. His shades and hair do smack of a certain rebelliousness and causelessness. But our driver could just as easily be called Avalokitesvara, the 1000 armed Buddhist Lord of Compassion. He always seems to have one hand on his cell, one smoking a cig, one on the radio, and one on the wheel (an afterthought while driving curvy, narrow, sometimes bumpy mountain roads, and frequently passing slower vehicles). Our guide Sonam would probably frown internally at the limb exaggeration. But he never tells us the driver’s name and we don’t ask; nicknames suffice. Sonam and Driver #1 lead married English couple Jonathan and Sian, Argentinean Agustin, and me through highlights of Tibet.
This place is dead anyway. (In my head, said “Swingers” style.) This place is vibrant! (In my head, said with a mouthful of marshmallows. I should clarify. I sometimes play Chubby Bunny in my inner monologue. In my mind, I was up to 12 marshmallows. The fat ones you’d use for S’mores. I realized the vibrance in the middle of the game. Th plth ib vabro!) I have these first two reactions to Lhasa. The morning after our nighttime arrival and initial disappointment, we are swept into the pulsating spirituality, friendliness, and multi-faceted beauty of Tibet’s capital city.
My senses perk up approaching vividly colorful Jokhang Temple. For many countryside Tibetans, pilgrimaging to this temple and nearby Potala Palace realizes a dream. Like a factory smokestack, incense fragrance and smoke pour aromatically out of twin giant ceramic burners in front of the temple. Hundreds of pilgrims prostrate repeatedly. The act roughly resembles a squat thrust except that the pilgrims use hand pads to extend their arms outwardly along the ground in a gliding motion. (Though the intention is entirely different, I have come to believe that they learn how in Tibetan grade school gym class. I am confident so I don’t bother to ascertain.) The collective noise of many pilgrims’ hand pads scratching against the ground creates a soothing, surprisingly loud symphony. Seeable, smellable, hearable devotion radiates from this epicenter throughout Tibet.
Eating dinner in Gyatse, the restaurant proprietor lights up when I tell him I am from NYC. He returns with a pad and pen. He wants me to hand-deliver a message to his NYC-resident friend. A handwritten note always means so much more. And you must take advantage when a carrier pigeon just falls in your lap. (Invent a reason if necessary.) Nonetheless, though I am sure I will run into his friend in ten months’ time at Shake Shack or Madison Square Garden, and recognize him immediately, I refuse the request. (Shake Shack seems more likely.) I see I can be useful but his sense of urgency irks me. I know in my heart I can make this happen but the responsibility overwhelms. As I rationalize, he pulls out his iPhone and fires off a text. All the way to the other side of the world! I shouldn’t have hesitated. What, I couldn’t just do this guy a favor? I feel unimportant. Anyway, you must agree–texting isn’t all that.
Sonam lets down his guard. He smiles more. He’s not supposed to talk about politics or Chinese military presence. He gains comfort though, telling me about the mysterious nighttime escape of His Holiness the Dalai Lama from Norbulingka Sumer Palace in 1959. Sonam left his parents in 1981 to join the Dalai Lama in exile in Dharamshala, India. He spent 18 years there ages 9-27, not seeing his parents. One of his brothers (out of 9 siblings) joined him but died there of an electric shock. It was emotional when he reunited with family at their Everest region home.
Sonam offers us caramels as we ride past inspirational scenery. Agustin sits in back of the Land Cruiser with our backpacks. Prompted by the sweet goodness, he tells us how to make Dulce de Leche. Every so often, he hands me his headphones or I hand him mine. He breaks down Radiohead and Santogold with insightful comments and smiles of enjoyment. I am currently 16 Yuan (~$2.30) in debt to him; the Yuan notes in his wallet consistently lend greater convenience than those in mine. Super chilled-out and soft-spoken with a quiet sense of humor, he chimes in, “what is it–rush hour?” as we pass a herd of yak on a steep mountain road. He promptly replaces his headphones. Was that in a huff? He looks bitter; my telltale heart suggests it’s probably about lending me money all the time. Whatever, Agustin, quit being so cheap man.
We reach Rombuk Monastery, 8 KM from Everest Base Camp. I hike towards EBC with Agustin and two Finns. Heidi tells me about mountains I should climb in Ecuador and Malaysia. I tell her about one she should climb less than 8 KM from us. Ecuador and Malaysia don’t have the monopoly on mountains, Heidi. (If that is your real name.) I am not saying right away or anything. That’s ridiculous; everybody knows May is best for climbing Everest.
On our last full day, on the way from Everest to the Nepal border, we stop at Sonam’s home for lunch. This is an unexpected highlight, more Avalokitesvara than James Dean. On the roof we are graced by Cho Oyu. In the kitchen/living room, Jonathan notes the only nod to the 21st century, the TV and radio. The sweet, milky tea and the flat noodles I enjoy in the homey room have the anecdote [sic] for the altitude sickness I wrestle. The edible and potable raconteurs tell just the right story in my belly. The family’s warm hospitality ensures my cup and bowl remain full. I think to myself, this is a fitting end to our time in Tibet and rounds out the experience. In my head that sounds like, “th ib a filbn en t or tam n Thabt n ronds ut th experience.” I swallow the marshmallows in my mind before saying “experience.”
PS-I didn’t write much about them but Jonathan and Sian are a lovely couple. Jonathan had me laughing. Sian always has insightful comments.
PPS-As promised, I am catching up on pics now for all of China. I have decided to switch to Facebook for storing my albums, as I think the functionality is far better for viewing. Anybody can access through these links below. Please bear with me as I try to get all these up as quickly as possible. Internet access is not exactly as I might have hoped.
PPPS-I am heading to the Himalayas for a 3 week Annapurna circuit trek. The Wonder might be going on hiatus for a little while…will post again as soon as I can.
PPPPS-Deedpest apologiest abouft little tygpos, etc. whilde I waws posdting by elmail from Cshina.
Click for BEIJING/ GREAT WALL/ XIAN PICS
