Co-editors: Seán Mac Mathúna • John Heathcote
Consulting editor: Themistocles Hoetis
Field Correspondent: Allen Hougland
The
Tibetan Government-in-exile An
Annotated Chronology of Tibet in the 20th Century
When we left
Gyantse, just Lee and myself caught the bus to Lhasa some
157 miles (254 km) away. We got up early one morning, and
waited for ages on a lonely dusty road for a bus which came
after some wait. When it stopped, we boarded and asked for
the fare to Lhasa. The price the driver gave was double the
normal one. This was a common practice throughout Tibet with
the Chinese. They even had separate Tourist currency which
we were supposed to use. But like everyone else, we
exchanged the useless money (one of first things we did in
Shigatse), on the streets for proper Chinese Yen. We kept
our other money (such as the US dollar, which everyone
trades with) for emergency situations. Being disorganised
and terrible with money, l was carrying a variety of Chinese
Yen and tourist currency, Indian and Nepalese rupees, US
dollars, Sterling and travellers cheques - by then all in
really small amounts. Everywhere we
went Chinese hotel owners and bus drivers would try and
charge us double. But the bus is not like a range rover, you
don't pay later - you pay now. Lee and I quickly realised
our situation and paid the double-fare: The alternative was
simply to go back to the hotel and wait for next bus the
following day. Stuff that we thought, and reluctantly paid
the fare. The bus drive from Gyantse to Lhasa took some 14
hours. We saw the Yamdrok Tso (Turquoise Lake) - a vast lake
which takes some one hour to drive around. It is one of the
four holy lakes of Tibet (the others being Lhama La-Tso,
Nam-Tso, and Manasarovar), and home of wrathful deities. The
scenery was amazing. We then went over the the beautiful
Kamba-La pass 15,729 ft (4794m), and began to enter the Kyi
Chu valley, on the way to Lhasa. To my surprise, at no point
did l feel any altitude sickness. I remember from
some distance away catching my first sight of the Potala
Palace in the distance. This distinctive building is on a
large hill with the city of Lhasa around it. I felt very
excited, but very stressed from the days journey, and me and
Lee were starting to argue. We arrived in Lhasa just as it
was getting dark, and stopped off in the Banakshol, the
first hotel that we found in the main road called the Dekyi
Shar Lam. It was May 17th 1986, the beginning of a 24 day
stay in the capital of Tibet. When Lee and I
walked into the foyer of the hotel we came across a huge
argument between some Westerners and Chinese hotel
officials. We automatically took advantage of this, and
slipped by them and went straight upstairs and started to
explore the hotel, which was a square building with a large
courtyard. We soon found a room with two beds in it and
simply put our rucksacks down and l put my own lock on the
door. I felt quite excited about squatting a hotel room in
Lhasa. I was starting to get really short of money and
resented being treated as a rich tourist by the Chinese. It
was an opportunity to even up the odds - and extend my stay
in Lhasa for a few weeks. Lee and I
crashed out exhausted and in the morning there was a polite
knock at the door. It was a Chinese maid with a broom to
clear out the room. She was very friendly and we knew after
she had gone that we had the room. For almost two weeks l
stayed in the hotel rent-free. When the time to go came, Lee
and I crept out in the middle of the night and jumped the
fence, throwing our rucksacks over first. We were well
chuffed. Considering l spent over three weeks in Lhasa
largely rent-free, l was able to save myself a considerable
amount of money. As Lhasa is at
11,811 feet (3650 m), some travellers make the mistake of
flying in from the another country without getting
acclimatised. That can be very dangerous, and we heard
horror stories of backpackers who had done this, or had
tried to make there own way to the Everest base camp. I only
felt sick once as we passed a high-pass, but that was on the
way back from Lhasa, but that could have been because of the
erratic way that the buses speed up and down the mud tracks
over these mountains. On reflection,
it was the height of my eight-month journey to end up in
Lhasa, the highest capital in the world. Tibet is
undoubtedly a magical place, despite Chinese attempts to
suppress it. Several places left a profound impression on
me: firstly, the Jokhang Temple, which is the holiest place
in the world for Buddhists. The temple has a circular path
around it known as the Barkhor circuit, and it is the
tradition to walk clockwise, as the Tibetans do. Along the
Barkhor circuit, there were always Tibetans prostrating
themselves as they made their way around the temple. I heard
that some Tibetans do this all the way from their villages
some distance from Lhasa. Indeed, walking along the
outskirts of the city, it was quite common to see a solitary
Tibetan doing it on the way to the Jokhang Temple. The front
of the temple had been destroyed by the Chinese in 1985,
creating a modern style plaza, which on most days had a
large market in it. The Jokhang
temple (or Tsuglagkhang) is the most sacred of all Buddhist
temples in Tibet, and was built between 639 and 647 AD. King
Songtsen Gampo, who made Lhasa the capital of Tibet,
initiated the construction to house a Buddha image
(Akshobhya) brought to Tibet as the dowry of his Nepalese
wife Princess Bhrikuti. At the same time, another Ramoche
Temple was constructed nearby to house and another Buddha
image (Sakyamuni), brought to Tibet by his Chinese wife,
Princess Wencheng, who feared a Chinese invasion. It was
taken to the Jokhang by Princess Wencheng for safekeeping
and has remained ever since. I understand that it is the
basis of the marriage between King Songtsen Gampo and
Princess Wencheng in the 7th century, that China makes some
of its so-called claim to the whole of Tibet. It would like
France claiming England today because of marriage between
one of the medieval Plantagenet Kings of England and a
daughter of French king. After the first
major riots against Chinese rule in 1989, I remember being
greatly disturbed, when on the news, l saw Chinese soldiers
beating up Tibetan monks on the roof of the Jokhang. There
again, l also remember seeing a Chinese café ablaze
where Chris and I had been ripped off. Chris and I had just
walked into the restaurant, when we noticed two Chinese
youths practising their martial arts skills - kicking and
punching at each other. We remarked at how good they were as
we tucked into our food. However, when it came to paying the
bill, we flipped out after being charged an extortionate
amount. When we refused to pay, the restaurant owner called
his two friends over, who looked at us menacingly. Chris and
I looked at each other and decided to pay. They were clearly
going to do something drastic to get their money, and we
quickly decided it wasn't worth getting into a fight over. I
was pleased to see it burning on TV: they had clearly pissed
off the Tibetans, so they burnt it down. Inside the
Jokhang Temple, Tibetans walk around clockwise the main
courtyard, turning the huge prayer wheels in, chanting Om
Mani Padme Hum ! Being someone with a strong interest in
Buddhism, l also took part, and lit some Tibetan incense
that burns in Yak oil. The inner sanctum of the temple
houses the most important images and chapels. The most
prominent being the six huge statues that dominate the
central area. There is also a 20 ft (6 m) statue of Guru
Rinpoche. There are other statues such as Maitreya, who is
believed by Buddhists to be the future Buddha. Around this
enclosed area of statues is a collection of chapels, which
Tibetan pilgrims visit in a clockwise route. This was the
busiest part of the temple, with Tibetans queuing up to make
prayers, offer white scarfs and burn incense. All in all,
it's like a step back to medieval times. I noticed that some
of the pavings stones in the temple had been worn thin by
centuries of devotion. Another interesting temple is the
Chapel of Songsten Gampo where the King is flanked by his
Chinese and Nepalese wife's. I noticed that there was a
offering of Chang (barley beer) in front of him. Standing on the
gilded roof of the temple you can see the whole of the city
- and how the traditional view of Lhasa (represented by the
Potala Palace) - is being changed by the cultural vandalism
of the Chinese occupation. In older times the Tibetans never
built high houses, as they believed that when the Dalai Lama
was paraded through the streets, no one should be higher
than him. This tradition - carefully preserved in Bhutan -
has been totally ignored by the Chinese. They have
demolished scores of traditional Tibetan buildings around
the Jokhang, simply for the purposes of tourism (and l
suspect, crowd control), and erected typical Communist style
concrete blocks everywhere. The old Tibetan
quarter around the bottom of the Potala Palace was being
demolished when l was there, and the old gateway to the city
by the Potala had long gone. Beside it is a small hill,
called Chagpo Ri with a huge telecommunications mast on it.
I could see rubble, and wondered what had been there before.
When l checked it out, l found that the Chinese army had
blown up Lhasa's principal medical school (founded in 1413),
that once stood on top of the hill. I explored the area one
day, and noticed some carvings on the hill. These are a
series of rock carvings (some 5000), some of which date back
to the 7th century. There was a tradition of carving images
on the hill for over a 1000 years. One day
exploring the back streets of Lhasa, l came across the
Ramoche temple, its door locked by a huge padlock. It had
been extensively damaged during the "cultural" revolution in
China in the 1960's. At time of writing, the temple now
appears to be open again, although renovations are said to
be slow. I remember looking through the main door and seeing
smashed Buddha's and other religious objects that had been
trashed by the Chinese. It was a sad sight. I also remember
seeing in the Tashilhunpo monastery widespread evidence - as
l did in the Sera and Drepung monastery's near Lhasa - of
the demolition of surrounding buildings. It seems that the
10 or so monastery's left standing by the Chinese army had
large parts of them - say 50/75% - blown up by the army.
Everywhere you
went near the monastery's you could see evidence of this. In
the Tashilhunpo monastery l saw Chinese graffiti sprayed up
on the walls of the main courtyard. It reminded me of the
Nazi's during the second world war and the way that they had
destroyed synagogues and Jewish graveyards. I also heard
rumours from westerners that had been in Lhasa before l
arrived that the Chinese had executed two Tibetans and
displayed their bodies near the front of the Jokhang Temple.
This, no doubt, would have caused great offense to the
Tibetans. On one occasion, however, l saw a convoy of
military trucks with motorbike outriders driving down the
main road of Lhasa. In the back of a truck I saw a solitary
Tibetan, with a placard around his neck (probably saying
something like "Traitor of the Motherland !"). He was either
being taken to court or a place of execution outside Lhasa.
This is common practice after political prisoners have
appeared in so-called "Peoples Courts" in Tibet and China
and "confessed" to their "crimes" (i.e., political activity)
before being taken to be shot in the back of the head (with
the price of the bullet being sent to the family of the
deceased). On May 30th,
whilst walking down the main road of Lhasa, l bumped into
"Robert", the American l had met with the mountain bike back
in Khasa. To my surprise, he told me that he was planning to
do the same journey as me - i.e. travel into China, and then
along to the Karakorum highway to Kashmir and into India.
The only problem being that he didn't want to take the bike
with him, and when l told him that l was not planning to do
that journey any more, he asked me if l would take the bike
back to the US embassy in Kathmandu. At this point, l said
yes, if he agreed to give me the bus fare all the way to
Kathmandu. I then realised that not only could l get some
money to get out of Lhasa, but also l could cycle through
the Himalayas to Tatopani. At the time, l
didn't think it was suspicious. I remember telling him that
he didn't know me, so how could he trust me ? I knew, that
if l wanted, l could sell the mountain bike in Kathmandu for
several hundred dollars if l wanted too. So, l gave the guy
my address in England, and shook his hand and told him the
bike would be safely delivered to the US embassy. Only
later, after coming home, did l think of the possible CIA
connection - was l unwittingly used as a courier ? where
there documents or film stashed in the bike-frame ? I
speculated on being stopped at one of the many Chinese army
checkpoints along the way to Nepal, and what would have
happened if they had stripped the bike down and found
anything linked to espionage - l would have arrested as a
spy. Maybe l am being paranoid, but l remember thinking that
"Robert" was very casual about handing over a expensive
mountain bike to a total stranger and entrusting him to
deliver it to Kathmandu. I was suspicious because l knew
they had loads of cameras on them, and that there was
clearly some kind of covert political activity by Westerners
in the city. One of the
hotels that l was staying in had a sort of unofficial
"information office" run by a variety of Westerners
providing all sorts of information on Tibet. I remember
having the thought that this would be a good contact place
for dissident Tibetans to link up with the outside world.
Not that l was opposed to any help being given to Tibet, l
just wonder what the purpose of was CIA activity in Tibet -
probably just keeping a eye on their own interests, not that
of the Tibetans. Chris and me were sitting in our room next
to the "information office", when suddenly there were about
seven or eight Chinese policemen at the door led by one
plainclothes officer. They all piled in to the next room to
search it (the European they were after had disappeared).
Chris and l just sat there calmly and waited for them to
come out. After they did, we wondered why the Chinese police
were after some of the Europeans in the hotel. Later, when
the first major riots happened in Lhasa against Chinese
rule, l saw the "information centre" on a news broadcast
being shown as contact point for Europeans and Tibetan
dissidents. The only black
market in Lhasa seemed to revolve around exchanging tourist
currency for Yen or US dollars, with Tibetans, Muslims and
Chinese eager to do business. For many of these poor Muslims
and Tibetans, the business of the black market is one a few
ways to get a bit of money for their families, and l never
felt, unlike the Chinese, that they were trying to rip us
off. Round the back of the Jokhang temple I stumbled across
the main mosque whilst exploring the back streets, and took
off my shoes and walked in, after asking permission. It is
beautiful mosque, and l was surprised to discover that Lhasa
has a small Muslim population, mainly made up of traders
from eastern China. Food in Lhasa
was very good, compared with everywhere else. The Tibetans
loved yogurt, which was easy to get everywhere, added to
that we had our (dwindling) supplies of cheese and muesli
that we had bought from Nepal. It was possible to get basic
supplies like bread and other foodstuffs. Another nice bit
of Tibetan food was Tsampa (barley wheat flour), which when
hot water was added, created a sweet tasting rich sauce.
Although a
vegetarian, I was a meat-eater in Tibet, as there was very
little other choice. You have to be flexible when you travel
- if you want to stay healthy. If you want to remain a
vegetarian, fine, but when there is little else to eat apart
from Tsampa, Momo (a dumpling with meat inside) and butter
tea. You soon bite your lip and eat the Yak meat or Yak
burgers which is common food for travellers in Lhasa - at
least its good organic food. The other nice drink is Chang,
a Tibetan beer made from barley wheat. Very tasty, reminding
me a bit of ginger beer. You can take any size of container
to a shop and they will fill it with Chang. Many a nice
moment was spent drinking it. It's not very alcoholic, but
it has a nice sweet taste. On May 31st, l
visited the Potala Palace with my girlfriend Camilla (who l
had met on May 23rd) and her friend Lottie who was going out
with Chris. It is an amazing place, with panoramic views
across the whole of the Lhasa valley. It is on a hill called
Marpo Ri (Red Hill) which stands at 426 ft (130 m), over
half the height of the Canary Wharf building in London. It
was the sight of King Songtsen Gampo palace in the 7th
century. The present building was started by the 5th Dalai
Lama in 1645 and finished in 1649, when the Dalai Lama moved
his palace from the Drepung monastery to here. The larger
Potrang Karpo (Red Palace) was completed in 1694. Since
then, it has been the home of all the Dalai Lama's, and the
seat, until 1950, of the Tibetan government. Although
shelled in 1959, the Potala Palace suffered no direct
damage. Apparently it was saved by further desecration by
the Red Guards during the Cultural revolution when the
Chinese leader Zhou Enlai deployed his own troops to protect
it. I felt a real
sense of history there, after all this was the place where
Tibet had been ruled since the 17th century. It certainly is
an awe-inspiring place. The entrance takes you into the
Deyang Shar, the external courtyard of the Red Palace, and
then up a flight of steps into it. At the top of the Potala,
you have the room with a throne where the Dalai Lama's had
sat for centuries and held court. I paused for a few minutes
in front of it, before walking along a series of dark narrow
corridors filled with rooms which contained hundreds on
minuet Buddha's. This led into the Dalai Lama's bedroom - a
small room with a simple bed. I remember being taken aback
by the Spartan conditions that even the Dalai Lama lived in.
The other part
of the top of the Potala place contains Chörten's that
hold the remains of many of the previous Dalai Lama's, up to
the 13th. We walked through, turning the prayer wheels, and
touching the Chörten's. Another place we saw in the
west wing of the assembly hall was the incredible tomb of
the 5th Dalai Lama. His huge 45 ft (14m) Chörten is
gilded with some 3700 kg of gold. Flanking him is the
Chörten of the 10th and 12th Dalai Lama's. The Potala
Palace was another place where l felt a real sense of magic
and history in Tibet. But, although it is preserved as it
was (like the summer residence, the Norbulinka Palace), from
the top of the Palace, you can see the devastation that
Chinese occupation has brought to Lhasa - the wholesale
demolition of buildings and ancient sites, and the building
of ring roads and ugly concrete blocks. On June 2nd, l
picked up the mountain bike from "Robert" and spent my first
day with it cycling around Lhasa checking the sights out.
One problem l had, was that every time l stopped Tibetan
kids would want to play with or ride it when my back was
turned. Fortunately, l had a study lock and chain (which l
used to secure my rucksack to the roof of buses), so l was
able to lock it up wherever l went. This didn't stop kids
playing with gears and other parts even when locked !
Because l didn't have a puncture repair kit, l had to take
real care not to get a flat tire, as most of the roads are
terrible. In fact its one of the few places where having a
mountain bike with solid tires (instead of inner-tubes)
would be common sense. The last thing you want miles from
anywhere in the pouring rain or extreme cold is a puncture
! On June 4th, l
visited the Drepung monastery with Camilla, another once
large monastery similar to Tashilhunpo a few miles outside
Lhasa. It was founded in 1416, and was once the largest
monastery in the world (with 10,000 monks). Now about 500
live there. Here we saw the monks debating religious issues
in a tree-filled courtyard. There were loads of monks
sitting down being asked questions by a monk standing beside
them. Every time they were asked a question and gave an
answer, the monk standing would give a single clap of his
hand. We sat there for several minutes watching
this. The following
day l decided to check out a Tibetan sky burial. I had heard
that the ceremony was performed outside Lhasa early every
morning, and because of my interest in Buddhism l wanted to
check it out. Now l had a mountain bike that was possible.
Although Camilla and everyone else didn't want to go, l had
met by complete coincidence, Bridget, the sister of an old
partner of mine, and she expressed an interest in seeing it.
So, l arranged to get up early at around 4.30 am, and give
Bridget a call and go and find it. I had already asked some
people where the sky burial was performed, and they
indicated an area northeast of the Potala Palace where the
mountains begin. I asked how l would know how l had got to
the right place, and l was told to look out for a large fire
and the base of the mountains. So, l got up
early and called up Bridget and we had a small breakfast.
Bleary-eyed she got onto the saddle of the mountain bike and
we cycled off in the direction l had been given. We didn't
have to go far, l would say no more than a couple of miles,
before we saw through the breaking dawn, and large fire with
some Tibetan's sitting around it. I cycled over with Bridget
and stopped the bike some 100 yards from the Tibetans. I
thought it unwise just to ride up to them, thinking it would
be better to show some respect by asking permission to
attend the ceremony. When we stopped and got of the bike, l
shouted Tashi Delek ! and gestured towards them. They
shouted the same back and gestured towards us, so we walked
over. Putting my bike
down, l noticed that we had walked up onto a small plateau,
with a distinct separate and large flat stone at the end.
There was a huge bonfire of Juniper burning slowly and about
six Tibetans sitting round a fire smoking fags and drinking
Chang. There was also a European there with a camera who we
didn't talk to, but who probably had paid some money to take
photos at the beginning and end of the ceremony. Around the
slaughter stone l counted about 50 birds-of-prey from
vultures and crows and even hawks, calmly sitting there and
waiting for the ceremony to start. I had hoped that there
would be a few monks there chanting and playing instruments
to add to the atmosphere, but this was not the case, it was
clear that only members of the deceased family and Tomden -
the men who dismember the body were present. The sky burial
consists of dismembering the corpse in order that it could
be easily eaten by birds, who would then "carry the body
into the sky". According to one
website
l visited, this is seen as a "final act of generosity" to
the deceased. Such burials are often the source of skull
bones and thighbone trumpets used in Tibetan Vajrayana
rites. Another Tibetan view is that the dead persons body
"is used to benefit other living things". The following
description of a sky burial is from Carroll Dunham and Ian
Baker writing in the 1997 issue of Tricycle,
a US Buddhist magazine: Bridget and I
sat down and waited for the Sun to rise before the ceremony
began. After about half-an-hour, the Tibetans suddenly stood
up and went to the back of trailer attached to a tractor. I
had noticed that on it was a large sack. They carefully took
the sack off the trailer and put it on the ground. They then
cut it open to reveal the body of a elderly man in an
advanced state of rigor mortis. They then laid the body out
flat, and carried it to the slaughter stone and laid it
down. Two Tibetans, who l guess were relatives of the
deceased, watched as the four other Tomden's prepared for
the ceremony to begin. As two of the
Tomden's stood ready on the slaughter stone, the other two
sat down. Of those standing, one had a large knife and the
other, a axe. Their function was clear. The ceremony began
with one of them who was standing chanting a quick prayer,
and with the other began the process of cutting the body up
for the sky burial. The one with the axe cut off the right
foot and passed it to the other who had the knife. He
quickly took the skin off, put it down on the rock, and then
took all the flesh off, and put that in another pile. He
then passed it to the first of two Tibetans who was sitting
down. The first had a large hammer, with which he proceeded
to break the bone up into small pieces. He then passed it to
the other one sitting down who broke it up further and
pulped it into a sort of paste. This was also put into a
separate pile. Next to be cut off the body was the lower
part of the leg, and then the upper part above the knee. The
process was carefully repeated: the limb was amputated,
passed to another who took the skin and flesh off, then the
remaining bone would be crushed and reduced to a
paste. After 30
minutes or so, the flock of birds was increasingly getting
excited as the ceremony progressed. I can say for myself,
that l went into a bit of trance, probably because l was
sitting in front of the Juniper fire which tripped me out a
bit. Witnessing the ceremony itself was a mystical event: I
had stood by the burning ghats at Varanasi in India and been
greatly moved by the Hindu ceremony that celebrates the
journey to the other world by the side of the River Ganges.
Now, l was seeing how the Tibetans performed their ceremony.
There is very little fertile land in Tibet, so no-one gets
buried (except Lama's whose remains are put into
Chörten's). Everyone ends up at the sky burial, where
the body is cut up and fed to the birds as the sun rises
above the mountains. Just as Bridget
and l were being mesmerised by the ceremony, the Tibetan
with the axe suddenly jumped off the slaughter stone and ran
in the direction of a about five or six Chinese policemen
that were keeping the event under surveillance. We had
noticed them standing behind the stones on the brow of a
hill when we turned up, but took no notice of them. There
presence was clearly irritating the Tibetans who probably
felt that the Chinese just intrude to much on their personal
life's. To our astonishment, the police fled down the hill
and ran away, clearly keen to not to cause a major scene at
the sky burial. As he marched back welding the axe with an
angry look on his face, l thought to myself "what if this
guy is pissed off with people turning up to watch the sky
burial ?". After all, he already had a axe in his hand and
had threatened the Chinese police with it. I quickly thought
to myself, if he makes a move for me and Bridget welding the
axe, we should back off quickly and leave. But he didn't. He
went back to work, and began the process of dismembering the
upper part of the body. I didn't think
about it the time, but later l read that apparently, the Sky
Burial can also serve as an unofficial autopsy - as evidence
of torture (such as broken bones, lacerations on the skin
etc) - can easily be found by the Tomden, and of course,
reported back to the family. I remember thinking it strange
that only two people (who l assumed were relatives) were
present (and no women) - maybe it was a homeless person.
He repeated the
same process with both arms. Off came the hands first, then
the lower part and the upper part of the arms. They were
skinned, the bones broken up and pulped into paste. All that
was left now was the torso and the head. They started on the
stomach first, skinning it first, and then carefully
removing all the internal organs and putting them in a
separate pile. By this time, the piles of skin, pulped bone,
flesh and entrails had grown considerably - as had the
number of birds-of-prey, eagerly awaiting their meal. The
Sun was almost up over the mountains. They had completely
disemboweled the torso, carefully cutting into pieces the
ribcage, and removing the heart and liver, and soon, were
left simply with the spine and back bone, with the head
attached to it. With one swipe of the axe, that was cut from
the head. The back bone was then cut up and pulped. I
started to think to myself "I've never seen a severed head
before !", when one of the Tibetan's picked up the severed
head, gauged the eyes out, scalped it and handed to the
other one who carefully removed all the skin, leaving a bare
skull. When this was finished, he put the skull down on the
ground, shouted a quick chant, and then picked up a large
stone and crashed it down on the head. To our astonishment,
he narrowly missed, forcing the severed head to roll along
the stone. He then placed it back and tried a second time,
this time he was successful and the head was completely
destroyed. They then
gathered all the different piles of flesh together, and one
of the Tibetans raised his arm, looked at the sky and
shouted "shey, shey" (eat, eat). After this, all four of
them then slowly threw out all the different piles of flesh
and bone to the birds until it was all gone. The ceremony
was over, the body was gone and it was about 9.30 am in the
morning. Bridget and I got up, thanked the Tibetans, and
cycled back to Lhasa. We didn't talk much except in
astonishment about what we had witnessed. It left a profound
impression on me. Later on that
day, l visited Drepung monastery (founded in 1419), a couple
of miles outside Lhasa with Chris, Camilla and Lottie. Once
this monastery had over 5000 monks, but when l was there,
that was down to several hundred. The Sera Je college within
it has two thrones - one for the Dalai Lama, the other for
the Panchen Lama. It is a large impressive complex and well
worth a visit. It was here in the main assembly hall (which
dates back to 1710), that l joined a large groups of monks
praying in the huge hall guided by a lama. The monks sit in
long rows chanting, led by the Lama. The changing goes on in
cycles of between 10 and 20 minutes. When the end of a
stanza comes, the monks stop, and pick up various
instruments, notably the conch (a large shell found in
Tibet, similar to a seashell), horns, cymbals and bells.
After playing the instruments for about five minutes, they
would stop, have some butter tea, and carrying on chanting.
Throughout the whole session, young monks would walk around,
filling the monks cups with butter tea. I found
witnessing the monks chanting together quite a mystical
experience, as l was there for some time, sitting
cross-legged at the end of a row of monks. The music, the
incense and the atmosphere generate a trance like-experience
which absorbed me. I found the all the monks very friendly
and weren't offended if people like myself sat and watched
or joined in. I didn't see myself as a tourist but someone
on a different kind of journey. By this time, l
got together with Camilla, Lottie and Chris, and we planned
our return to Nepal. Lee was going to make his own way onto
Kashgar and Pakistan and would meet Chris later. After
staying a few more days in Lhasa, we left at 8.30 am on June
10th for a bus direct to Khasa via Shigatse. I felt sad
leaving Lhasa, and promised myself that l would return one
day. On board, l had my rucksack and mountain bike, which
had paid my fare to Kathmandu. I had already decided to
cycle from Nyalam to Tatopani. To my astonishment, as we
were pulling out of the Lhasa Valley l saw two tents and two
mountain bikes from the other American cyclists that l
thought were travelling with "Robert". I remember thinking
to myself "Wow, there taking a long time to get to Lhasa". I
wondered why they had all split up, and if "Robert" had
given me his bike, what had happened to the fourth cyclist
? After driving
quickly through Gyantse, we arrived at 9.30 pm in Shigatse,
and went to bed quickly after some food. Because if was
night time, we didn't even get the opportunity to see the
Tashilhunpo monastery (except for a fleeting glance in the
morning). On June 11th the bus set off for Nyalam, going via
the Lhakpa La pass one more time. As with all buses that
pass over mountain passes, the Tibetans shout a mantra to
the Gods if the bus does not stop. We soon all joined in. At
Lhakpa La, the bus did stop though, and everyone got off -
the Tibetan's to perform worship around the prayer flags
fluttering in the wind, while we sampled the
views. When we arrived
in Nyalam at half past ten in the evening, it was still
almost light. We had a series of arguments along the way
with the Chinese. The first in the hamlet of Lhaste (just
before the Lalung Leh pass) where after trying to rip us of
again over the price of a cup of tea, l stormed out,
shouting "wanker" at both the cafe owner, and a Chinese
policeman - who when l insulted him, didn't even bother
looking up and acknowledging it. We stormed out back to the
bus. There was a further argument when we arrived in Nyalam.
The Chinese gave us literally the empty floor in a warehouse
and demanded a huge rent for the night. We refused to pay.
With me and Chris shouting obscenities at them, making it
clear they would not get the kind of money, they backed
down, and we got a quiet nights sleep. Arrival in
Khasa. Picture by Camilla
Göthlund. After waking up
in the morning and having my breakfast, l unloaded my bike
from the top of the bus. I had decided to cycle ahead of the
bus before it left, in case of any problems. So l set off,
leaving my rucksack on the bus with Camilla. The first
couple of miles of the road downhill to Nepal were pretty
bad. Because the road had gone in several places, l got of
the bike and carried it. I remember wondering how the bus
would make it. Looking over the side of the road seemed like
a pure drop for several hundred, probably a thousand feet,
and it is surrounded by steep ice-capped mountains. This is
the land of the snow leopard, and the legendary Yeti. It's
also quite green at that level, with forests of trees
growing up the side of the mountains into the clouds.
Someone on the bus gave me a camera to take photos, which l
did every couple of miles. The view from
this side of the Himalayas is stunning. On a good day, like
on the one l was on, you can see the plains of India. I
decided to take my time cycling down the road to Khasa, not
because of any danger, but because the view was so amazing.
At one point, l came round a corner and found two Chinese
soldiers standing in the middle of the road holding their AK
47's. I slowed down as l approached them, expecting to be
asked for my passport, but they didn't saw anything. I tried
smiling. No response. I noticed they were several others
sitting round a fire drinking tea. I guess it was an army
patrol making their own way down the road to Khasa. They
moved out of the way a bit for me to cycle through them, and
l continued on the journey. Before very
long, l arrived in Khasa just behind the bus (which caught
up with me because l was going so slow, and stopping to take
photos). After having my passport checked, l continued down
to Tatopani. On the way down, l saw some Tibetans sitting by
the road, and they gestured me to sit down with them, so l
did so, spending a few minutes with them drinking some
butter tea. By this time, l
was back near the so-called "friendship bridge". As l
approached the bridge l noticed a posse a Chinese soldiers
sitting down watching the bridge. As l got onto the bridge,
suddenly two Nepalese kids came running up. They were very
excited about the bike, so l got them both on the bike: one
of the pannier, the other on the saddle, and cycled in a
circle around the redline in the middle of the bridge that
donates the actual border, for five minutes or so. After
having my passport checked at Kodari, l continued onto the
village of Tatopani and pulled up by the side of the road to
wait for my friends. It was June 12th 1986. It had been a
good trip to Tibet - l had been 51 days in the country, and
it had cost me only about £12 to get to Lhasa and back
from Kathmandu - a journey of almost 572 miles (920 km). I
had saved loads of money by squatting in the hotel room in
Lhasa for almost three weeks, and had been greatly helped by
having done the deal with the mountain bike which had paid
my bus fare from Lhasa to Kathmandu. I was still short of
money, and would have to borrow another £50 from Chris
just to ensure that l had the bus and rail fare to get from
Nepal to Bombay in India for the return flight home.
Within two days
l would be in Kathmandu again, where l stayed before heading
for Pokhara on June 26th. Here, I met an Canadian guy called
Mike who l entrusted the mountain bike to return to the US
embassy. I later met him again in Pokhara and he where he
told me he had done this. I still feel
very lucky that l was able to make it to the country as a
backpacker, so cheaply. In 1987, l saw a letter in a British
newspaper claiming that a team from the British army would
be the first to make the cycle trip across the Himalayas. I
wrote to point out that the US team working for
National
Geographic
magazine must have been some of the first (a year after the
border opened). They didn't publish the letter. When l see
travel companies offering organised tours for cyclists to
Tibet today that cost thousands of pounds, it seems those
days are over - certainly it appears difficult now for
backpackers to travel as l did in Tibet in 1986. Most
cycling websites recommend cycling the whole way from Lhasa
to Kathmandu, over a period of some twenty to thirty days.
Unless you are extremely fit and prepared for some of the
harshest weather conditions in the world, l would advise
against it. From my experience the journey is easier if
split up between bus rides and staying in towns along the
way. As for visiting
Tibet today, from what l have read on the Internet, it
appears to difficult unless you are part of an orgainsed
tour group, and these cost substantially more than
backpacking, with the obligatory stays in new expensive
tourist hotels in Lhasa and Shigatse.
Like
a Bodhisattva shaman, the Tomden goes back in among the
vultures and begins to dismember the skeleton, throwing
arm and leg bones to the ravenous birds. Then, with a
stone mallet, he pulverises the remaining bones. Reciting
mantras, he takes the skull and crushes it with a large
rock. He mixes the brain and powdered bones with tsampa
flour and again invites the birds to feast. Soon there is
nothing left: only wisps of smoke from the juniper fire
drifting across the barren stones. The birds fly heavily
to the crest of the ridge to digest; then, slowly, they
soar off into the heavens - black shapes fading against a
pale, undying sky.
