Tibet

by Neil Harris

After much conscience searching I chose to go to Tibet. What would I find? Before flying to Lhasa from Kathmandu we were warned that a French couple who flew in with the latest Lonely Planet in their baggage were turned away, so that had to go (it contains a foreword by the Dalai Lama). So freedom of speech was off the agenda then!

Prayer Flags

We landed at Lhasa Airport. The group I was with (getting an individual visa is tricky at present) had to line up in the order of the group visa, then slowly progress through immigration. When my turn came the officer proved to be friendly; he was interested that I had been through Lhasa two days before as an emigration stamp in my passport showed I had exited China when I had flown TChengdu to Kathmandu via Lhasa. The baggage search proved cursory, only a couple of bags being chosen, but they all had to go through an X-ray machine.

The lack of oxygen was immediately apparent at the c12500ft altitude (c. 65-70% of the oxygen at sea level), as we walked to our coach. I was surprised by how much vegetation there was, trees everywhere, golden fields of barley, not what I had expected.

First stop Tsetang: the countryside looked Tibetan as did the houses. However, Tsetang had a Han feel about it, especially the shops. The hotel was a typical Chinese 3 star, the condoms in the bathroom (a feature of many Chinese hotels) indicating Chinese businessmen using the hotel. Some expect extra services, as evidenced by the bar on the same floor as my bedroom.

The next day we were to visit Samye Monastery. This involved catching a local flat-bottomed ferry to cross the vast Bramaputra River (here known as the Tsangpo). We shared with locals; all Tibetan. A short local bus ride on the other side and we were at Samye monastery. There was an event happening. Officials (many Han), monks and ‘hard hats’ were sitting on benches listening to an official (Han). Apparently a recent restoration was being celebrated. In Tibet you are never quite sure if a monastery has been rebuilt, as much was destroyed in and around the Cultural Revolution. For photographs in the various prayer halls a hefty fee is charged; it varies but may be up to £10. This, alas, goes to the Chinese government, not the monastery.

The sound of Tibetan music (to my ears not very tuneful) was coming from outside the main monastery, so I investigated. It turned out some monks were performing a local dance (the Dro) in celebration of the ‘refurbishment’... to much interest from the locals. Lunch was taken in the monastery restaurant; pleasant enough food, but very basic facilities, so basic that I had to listen to an elderly Tibetan straining over the adjacent ‘hole in the ground’; the barrier between us was only knee high, and as for the smell... Basic facilities are the norm in Tibet away from tourist hotels and restaurants, some do not even make the grade as basic. Outside the monastery there were a number of solar stoves with attached kettles. They use the power of concentrated sunshine to boil water as solid fuel is in short supply, very ecologically sound.

The ferry ride back was enlivened by an adjacent ferry carrying monks and locals in party mood, perhaps brought on by local hooch; giggling accompanied the slipping and sliding as they got off.

Potala Palace steps

Next stop was Lhasa, reached via a tunnel, as the capital city and the airport are in adjacent valleys. The Potala Palace had featured on my ‘must see’ list for a long time. Would I be disappointed? First impressions are of a modern city in the Han style. The main shopping street has a similar feel to Oxford or Regent Street; however, the Tibetans still a have few areas where their life style is maintained, especially around the Jokhang.

The Summer Palace (the Norbulingka), where the Dalai Lama, unsurprisingly, spent the summer months was the first site we visited. The Chinese would have you believe that main state rooms are as left by the DL when he fled to India in 1959, with fifties furniture and some personal effects. Given the intervening Cultural Revolution, this seems unlikely. To visit the Potala Palace requires a booking; as a group you are allocated an hour slot. The climb to the entrance, perhaps 300ft, quickly tests your lungs and your legs. The chances are that after visiting Tibet you will come back a fitter person. The inside of the palace is a ‘no photo’ zone, and again we are led to believe that it has largely remained in aspic since 1959. The next major site is the Jokhang; the most revered building in Tibetan Buddhism. As a foreign tourist one is allowed to queue jump the pilgrims lining up to file through, passing myriad prayer halls before climbing up to the roof. This is a great place to view the prostrating pilgrims on the western side on the building where there is a large square. It is patrolled by the Red Army (rebranded into the People's Liberation Army in the 90s), groups of five young soldiers armed with rifles and riot gear perambulate around (no photos or your holiday could be quickly curtailed) showing the locals who is in charge in no uncertain terms. Tibetans circulate around the Jokhang, this kora is normally done three times in a clockwise direction, the most popular route is around 800m and lined by shops and stalls selling souvenirs aimed as much at locals as tourists. This is the real Lhasa now submerged under the Han yoke. Thanks to Michael Palin, Sera Monastery is now a Lhasa ‘must see’; around 5km outside the city, it is famous for debating monks. Most afternoons, monks assemble in groups in the debating garden to argue the finer points of Tibetan Buddhism. This is often done loudly with attitude. Tourists may outnumber the monks, though.

New Llasa

Around 70 kms from Lhasa is Ganden Monastery, the road to it snakes up from the plain in a series of hairpin bends. It has a reputation for causing trouble; there is even a ‘Police Station’ on site. The setting is spectacular, a great place to complete a kora around the monastery.

After Lhasa we headed west along the road that runs to the north of the Himalayas, eventually going into Nepal through the Chesum Gorge. The road has been built by the Chinese, no expense spared. I was reminded of The Life of Brian:

‘What have the Romans done for us?’

‘Well there's the roads...’

‘OK, apart from the roads?’

‘There's the schools...’

Life for the average Tibetan was horrendously hard before the Chinese arrived. Most were effectively serfs, while a small minority had a relatively good life as the land owning aristocracy. It seems to me that Tibetans have gained materially, but lost spiritually. The idea that they have lost freedom under the Chinese is probably a little false. How much did the average Tibetan have beforehand? I am not a fan of the Chinese takeover, but it is not as one-sided as many in the West would like you to believe.

A number of high passes have to be negotiated on the way west to Gyantse (Tibet's third largest city at around 8000 souls), the highest, Karo La, is over 5000m (c16400ft), alas it was sleeting with poor visibility as we arrived. There is an outside pool table (perhaps the highest in the world) here, although sleet had stopped play. Karo La was the scene of the highest recorded battle in British history during Younghusband's expedition to Tibet in May 1904.

Gyantse also features on Younghusband's CV. The fort, atop a lung bursting hill, was stormed by his army in July 1904 leading to the award of a VC for a British Officer. The fort (or dzong) is not in the best state of repair but affords great views of the valley. The barley harvest was being brought in, the staple that has kept Tibet fed for centuries. Pelkor Chode monastery is the other sight visible from the vantage point, the highlight of which is the Kumbum, a nine-floored pagoda-like building that contains 76 chapels. To reach the monastery we had to walk through the old town, still recognisably Tibetan with dung drying on walls, perhaps indicating a basic lifestyle. Again, the main street was new with Han owned shops for the most part; the feeling that Tibetans were being marginalised was reinforced.

The next day we headed to Shigatse, stopping at a farmhouse on the way. This was a good insight into how rural Tibetans live. Set around an internal courtyard, an extended family lived here. The farm would have been largely self-sufficient in days gone by. The scenery was more fecund than most would expect of Tibet; barley fields are present where the land permits cultivation, trees are quite numerous. It was not the desert I was expecting, although further north, where few live, rainfall drops off to leave little but parched plateau.

The main site in Shigatse is Tashilhunpo monastery. It contains bejewelled tombs of previous Pachen Lamas and a very photogenic courtyard outside a large prayer hall. Shigatse Dzong is not all it seems though. At first sight it appears to be an ancient imposing fort, but it was actually rebuilt between 2005 and 2007 by the Chinese. The original was dismantled, stone by stone, by hundreds of Tibetans as a punishment inflicted by the Chinese in 1961.

Gyatso Pass Public Toilets

The next day involved a long and arduous drive west, the scenery helping to pass the time, plenty of geology in the raw, along with the odd high pass. The highest being Gyatso Pass at 5248m (c. 17,200ft). It was covered in a thin layer of snow. This did not stop a few trinket sellers from setting up shop. This pass marks the start of Qomolangma National Park (or, in English, the Everest National Park). There is a public toilet here; the cubicles (a slight exaggeration) had snow drifts in them. Could this be the highest in the world?

It was now downhill to Tingri, a grubby little village that afforded a basic hotel for the night. Its selling point is views of Everest: alas, too much cloud prevented us seeing it, although we got views of Cho Oyu, at 8201m the sixth highest mountain in the world. Late September at around 14,000ft in Tibet, this close to the Himalayas can be very raw. There was a biting wind with thunder approaching.

A very early start the next day saw us drive to Nepal via the spectacular Chesum Gorge, before that though we had to go over another 5000m pass, alas in the dark missing the views to Everest.

We hit gridlock in Zhangmu, the town on the Tibetan side of the border. The problem being trucks going in two directions on a narrow road through the town, this made narrower by cars parked with no regard to obstruction of traffic: surprisingly unorganised for China. We ended up walking the six miles to the Friendship Bridge that marks the border; luckily this was largely downhill.

One of the main reasons that China wants Tibet (the historical grounds quoted by the Chinese seem rather flaky as they choose the point in history that suits them) is its potential for resources. Tibet has oil and other valuable minerals, the reason the railway was built all the way to Lhasa. Will they ever give it up? In one word, no.

First published in VISA 98 (Aug 2011)