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October
27, 1999
This is
Nick Baggarly and we're kickin it in Lhasa.
Light springs unbidden
From the infinite darkness
And casts a shadow
Haikou
by Charlie Kellner
I just
learned that the day we arrived in Beijing, a news story broke that said
the British claimed to have proof that Serbian forces were using the
Chinese embassy in Belgrade to broadcast messages to their forces.
Apparently, the U.S. military intelligence has been able to eavesdrop on
Serbian broadcasts so some sort of agreement was made in which the local
Chinese embassy would perform broadcast services in exchange for a
first-hand look at the downed stealth fighter. This is big news because
it implies that the U.S. bombing of the Chinese embassy in Belgrade was
no mistake, but instead retaliation to this alleged agreement. At this
point I am not sure if this is fact or fiction, but had this story gained
more exposure, we might have not been allowed to begin our journey.
Well, today
is October 27, 1999 and we're here in Lhasa, Tibet. It was a day of
sightseeing in this mystical city. More specifically, we are going to
visit one of the holiest of Buddist shrines, the Potala Palace -- a place
where Lamas have lived, learned and taught at for centuries. It is truly
exciting to see this place, as the visitation of holy places often
fosters interesting perspective and insight to one’s own religion and
philosophy.
This
morning we took breakfast and got out before the morning was too far
along. We drove along the valley floor where Lhasa is situated. As we
turned the corner and cleared the Chinese buildings that obstructed our
view, the city opened up into a large square, with the palace in the
center, appearing out of nowhere and standing like a regal centerpiece.
We drove up
a steep narrow cobblestone street that took us to the entrance of the
Potala Palace. My first impression of this beautiful palace was one of
sadness. We now stood well above the city of Lhasa with a broad panoramic
view. I was curious where our guide, Phurbu, was born and raised. He
pointed to a section of shantytown below that stood out like the poverty
stricken projects in Tijuana. Below you could see newer sections of town
complete with banks and shopping centers but Phurbu said these were all
Chinese sections of town that hadn't existed 20 years before. I looked
down at the Chinese city then up a bit and out, way out beyond all the
buildings and concrete until I saw lands yet undeveloped. Then, in my
mind I made the Chinese town disappear, so that the natural terrain was
unspoiled. And when I was done with this daydream, I thought, that's the
way it ought to be. I asked Phurbu what it was like growing up here, what
his family did, and if they were still here. He looked at me bitterly and
told me his father was incarcerated as a political prisoner. End of
conversation.
As I walked
through the halls of the religious shrine, many voices spoke to me. I
thought about being in Tibet, perhaps now the only mystical symbol left
on Earth. I thought about how, in the west, the blade of science had been
slashing through the ideas of gods, utopias, and peace between humans. It
seems to embrace the survival of the fittest -- a sound scientific
notion, but a notion that we have a choice of embracing. I thought about
the Garden of Eden, El Dorado and the Fountain of Youth, and how all of
the places had died away to science. I came to Lhasa, holiest place for
Tibetan Buddhists, but unfortunately, all the answers were not revealed.
And despite my hopes, I didn't obtain sudden enlightenment. That's a path
that probably requires a lot of study and reflection. In some ways, Lhasa
seemed like any other city, similar to Bejing, San Francisco, or even
suburban Naperville, Ill., the town where I was born.
My mind
went to the two pilgrims who we saw four days ago in Dulan. They were
slowly making their way to this place. Their pilgrimage ended here. Today
we saw others who had just arrived and I wondered about their journeys.
How many steps did it take to get here? How many times did they stretch
out on the ground? How many push-ups did they do? And does their head
hurt? I wonder what they thought about as they touched every inch of the
path in which they were on, being led by faith, trusting in other people
that they would be given enough food to keep up their journey. I wondered
if and how their beliefs had changed from the beginning of their journey
to the end. What was important to them when they began, what was important
to them now, and what would be important to them when they arrive here?
Were they somehow bending their mind, retraining their cognitive process
into a higher way of thinking? I wonder if it was about a goal, or just
about experiencing life. Testing what their bodies could do, seeing where
their minds would go. What kind of experience were they having? Were
people kind? Did people understand their goal, and where they helpful to
its end? What kind of people embark on these journeys? Was it encouraged
behavior? Was it a way out of another situation, or a means to a new one?
But the most important question was this: How did it change them? I
suppose the only way to find out is to take up the pilgrimage.
I thought
of the Chinese takeover, and the events leading up to it. The country of
Tibet sought out no allies, no friends. They had a policy of isolationism
that was markedly different from the rest of the world’s system of
allegiances. It was this policy that made them easy prey to the outside
world. During this time, India had just received independence and battles
were occurring between the east and the west in Korea. Taiwan and China
confronted each other. All of this made the takeover of barren,
mountainous Tibet seem like a minor ripple in an ocean of conflict.
Taking this
to a smaller level, I think of interactions between individuals. How much
of our interactions in everyday life are offensive, defensive or just
mutually beneficial? Western thought seems so goal-oriented: the
acquisition of wealth, the control of land, of people, and the control of
ideas.
These
Buddhist pilgrims look inside the individual to find worth and meaning
and encourage the journey in which we are on. Perhaps they learned to
appreciate where their food came from, as they were dependent upon those
who gave it to them. They humbled themselves and perhaps realized that
they would have been unable to complete their pilgrimages alone. How did
this affect their feelings of loneliness or belonging? They took with
them only what they needed: clothing, which served as protection for
their bodies; shoes, which protected their feet; and a faith in other
people and themselves. I'm reminded of western advice: The only person
you can count on is yourself. Do not put your trust in others. These
people believe and embrace the exact opposite.
Within the
palace are many divas and symbols. As I walked, I was especially drawn
toward the Buddha of compassion. I felt this was a good symbol of what I
needed to be reminded of on a daily basis. It is so easy to get wrapped
up in my own life and miss what is happening around me. How can I avoid
my own rut? What will give me courage to embrace people rather than avoid
them? I had these thoughts as I looked at the many faces of the Buddhas,
or perhaps it was the many faces inside one Buddha, or more importantly
the many faces we each have. One face for each experience we have gone
through. It was wonderful to be there because the experience challenged
the heart and soul and hopefully I will be mindful of the wisdom it
taught everyday for the rest of my life, but I guess that is the
challenge.
The
structure was filled with the odor of yak butter, as many people who were
touring the structure to pay their respects gave it as an offering. Many
Tibetans were there placing money on the altars and uttering
incantations. We later found out the money left in the Potala palace
would be collected by the Chinese.
We met a
couple of British women, one of whom had been living in Hong Kong for the
past year, working and traveling. They were full of life and we
immediately hit it off with them. We took a group picture.
After we
left the Potala Palace we ate at one of the Tibetan owned restaurants The
meal consisted of traditional yak, rice, noodles and Tibetan yak-butter
tea. It was different but we all enjoyed being at a Tibetan restaurant.
Unfortunately
for some of us, today marked the first signs of dysentery and altitude
exposure sickness. We were still taking the diamox medication but I was
beginning to feel exhausted and sick.
An office
for the Tibetan International Sports Travel (TIST) is coincidentally
within the Himalayan Hotel so we visited the manager to pay for an
additional day in China so we can visit the Rongbuk Monestary near Mt.
Everest base camp. We also asked the manager if Jeff could ride with us
to the Nepal boarder. The last0minute arrangements for Jeff required that
he fly from Lhasa to Kathmandu but he didn't want to miss Everest. A call
was made to the CIST manager, Mr. Zhang, and permission was arranged for
Jeff to ride along. Big win. Because of their Chengdu experience, Mr.
Zhang and Jeff go way back. They
have history.
The
remainder of the day consisted of working on the Rovers. After all, the
highest pass of the trip - heck, the highest pass in the world -- still
was ahead of us. I suspect something is wrong with the carburetor on
Alaska. The performance on this Rover should be the same as Hercules and
the carb is the likely culprit and also the easiest thing to try first.
So I bought out a new carb from our spares kit and immediately ran into a
snag trying to install it. The throttle body base mounts to the intake
manifold with two bolts. But, since we're running mid 1950s GM
single-barrel carburetors that weren't engineered for a Land Rover
manifold, the holes in the base would need to be widened. Widening would
require a drill and a lot of time. We brought along a Makita entry-level
drill that is powered only by rechargeable batteries. After about an hour
of gnawing away with the drill, the holes were finally widened just as
the battery gave out. Funny how things seem to work out sometimes. The
new carb was in place … but the sun has gone down so we'll have to wait
until tomorrow to find out if it will run. When the sun goes down in
Lhasa, so does the temperature.
After
maintenance chores were completed, we were all hungry for Western food.
In this large city we found what were looking for and ate a hybrid of
American/Tibetan cuisine. You guessed it, the Yak burger. After our
dinner and dessert, we went back to our hotel to read up and prepare
ourselves for the next, and perhaps the most dangerous, leg of our
journey. So until tomorrow, this is Nick Baggarly along with our team in
Lhasa saying good night.
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