Finding Tibet – A Second Look at Lhasa
Have you ever had the experience that, on the nth day of your trip, you have lost track of time?
That was Tibet to me. It is an environment that constantly entices you away from the established routines and thoughts that structure your life in the outside world. Everywhere in Tibet, the place draws you into its own reality, to a point of complete absorption. The constant reminders of a distinctive native culture, the meeting of new people, and the view of exceptional scenery inspire myriad insights that take the mind away from what one temporarily leaves behind in the lowlands of the world.
I shall always remember the beautiful blue sky of Tibet, spread like a drawn curtain, peacefully hung from the unreachable rooftop of our mother earth. Perhaps it was a ceiling hand-painted by God’s loving fingers. Perhaps it was a sweet dream that enveloped me from the bothers of western civilization, an oasis made of ceramic, reflecting traces of a utopia, blue like china.
On the streets of Lhasa I observed many facets of Tibet, especially the fascinating interactions amongst the tourists, the Han Chinese, the Muslims and the Tibetans. Thanks to tourism, there were always one transaction or other on the streets, people haggling for better deals animatedly. Besides sights of raw beef sold exposed in the open, and yak butter blocks that smelled of grease, there were things happening in each corner and intersection, so much that my camera would not suffice in recording all that late-afternoon liveliness.
People looked at my photography gear with wonderment, “what is this,” some asked. I showed a child how the tripod worked. As I lowered the camera, “look, you can see through this and what lies within the four corners of the lens will come out in the photo.” “Really?” “Here, press this here and you will take a picture.” Click–picture taken! I saw that smile on her face, innocent and satisfied.
If only, as I approached my thirties then, I could still smile satisfied, innocently, over seeing the world through the single eye of a camera!
Well, I still smile when I look at my Tibet pictures. Tibet, capable of modern life and yet still deeply rooted in a premodern culture. Tibet, the embodiment of an established society, fiercely protective of its own faith and customs, yet squarely within the forced influence of China. It is a world of its own.
I saw many monks sitting at the hidden-corners of the alleys, some of them as young as six or seven years old, citing their scriptures monotonically. They were begging. A picture of these young monks asking for money in their Buddhist attire was in order, but of course, I took care to give them some money afterwards. A question arose: how was it that the Buddhist temples in Lhasa were so well-attended and taken care of, and yet the monks had to be begging for money under broad daylight? It was not like people were in love with them either. Some seemed to shun their presence.
After a few more rounds of walking, I talked to a monk that *really* begged me for money, and asked him, how it was that he ended up on the street for a dollar or two just to eat – didn’t the monastery take care of him?
He told me that he left his family in Sichuan to become a monk in Tibet. He wasn’t quite the same as the chosen, promising career monks in big temples like the Potala or the Jokhang. He left poverty in Sichuan to find poverty in Lhasa. The temple he was at did not take care of him.
“Please, the kind-hearted miss, please just give me some money.”
“If you stand right here and let me take a picture of you, I will give you a dollar.”
“No, I don’t want a picture taken of me.”
“Well then you don’t get my money.” (I wondered where I got this capitalistic fierceness in me. Maybe it has been too many years living in America)
He stood there, in utmost reluctance, and allowed me to take a picture of him. When I was done, I gave him 1.5 RMB. I assuaged myself for taking advantage of his poverty, by thinking that I rewarded him with half a dollar more. Boy, that sounds even more capitalistic.
I decided to take a pedi-rickshaw ride. Strolling along that Beijing Road, sunbathed, relaxed, and breezed, I felt the ends of my hair flying all across my face. In that moment of solitude, I seemed to hear me mumbling to myself saying that life is just so great. I was spirited away.
Back in the hotel, the nightly news on the local network often showed the current state of the economy in Tibet. I was delighted to see the latest quotes of the futures market showing the prices of yak, pork and hulless barley, which is the Tibetans’ staple food. The futures market there was one where delivery of the actual goods was expected, instead of allowing endless speculation by traders. After watching TV I rested, knowing that the next day shall be just as carefree as the last.
