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Hey There Folks,

So, I'm writing from a beautiful guest house in the heart of the old quarter in Lhasa. This place isn't in the guide books. It was recommended to me by that shady Tibetan travel agent I used in Beijing. By the way, he turned out to be all he was cracked up to be. While he did charge me a bit of a surcharge for his services, he did pull through with individual permits when no one else could. Just another guy on my list of people to thank.

But really folks, I'm in Lhasa! For anyone who remembers my first batch of letters, I lived with a Tibetan host family in India, in the home of the Tibetan government in exile, Dharmsala. It has been a dream of mine ever since to make it to this place, and I must say, I have not been let down. I'm feeling a little scrambled tonight, so I'm going to take one step back. In order to get out here, I had to ride the brand-new Beijing-Lhasa train. As most of you should remember, in order to do this, I had to obtain expensive permits that no one would ever check. I've got them, and no one has checked them. But better safe than sorry. My journey begins, however, even before riding the train.

My friend Lizzie, infamous of last summer's Guatemala jaunt, arrived in Beijing last Friday. Despite a semi-awkward weekend living with my homestay family, which began with my father saying, "I've know she doesn't speak Chinese, but if I speak slow enough, I'm sure she'll understand," the weekend was a wonderful success. Lizzie and I made it to Tian'anmen Square, the Forbidden city, the Great Wall at Simatai, the Summer Palace, and even Jongguen Tsuen, the fabled electronics market. Countless hours of bus rides, haggling and translating during meals later, my father was wishing us luck as he dropped us off a Beijing's very impressive Beijing West Railway Station. And that's when the adventure really began.

Lizzie and I, knowing food and drink would surely be expensive on board the 48 hour train ride, purchased 4 Pabst Blue Ribbon brand bottles of water before getting on board. (That company has been selling bottled drinks in China for some time, go figure.) Once on board our train, we noticed the four men we were sharing a compartment with took our preparations and made them look like child's play. Each man brought two bags, one small brief case sized bag, and one large brown bundle. Over the course of the trip, the bundles were slowly opened to show, not clothing, but a cornucopia of Chinese travel foods, from sausage shaped spam to fresh green onions, from coconuts to fish jerky, and as you can imagine, they wanted to share it all with us. These Famished Four, it turned out, were part of a tour with 13 other equally curious Chinese tourists. There was Pajama-man, who changed into his pajamas within an hour of the train's departure, and didn't change into street clothes until an hour before we arrived. There was the Laugher, who was so tickled by our presence that he insisted on getting a picture with me, which he has promised to email. There was also the Sweater, who, besides sharing the food he brought, did little more than laugh, sleep, count to four (in English) and sweat. And finally there was Somebody's Wife. I don't know who's wife she was, but she was sure motherly, and even invited me to a game of poker she failed to organize. It was a wonderful family we found ourselves in, and it was sad to leave them. But we were ready for other adventures.

Once in Lhasa, we were met by someone from our hotel that we had previously arranged, and where I am currently staying. It turns out this is a new place, whose owner has a friendly, helpful zeal that could outmatch many a Quaker. The place is clean, cheap, and boasts an impeccable view. To boot, it turns out today (our first real day here) is one of the high Tibetan holidays. It is the fifteenth day of the fourth month by the Tibetan calender, and that means pilgrims from far and wide had descended upon Lhasa in droves to make the circuit of the Barkor. Conveniently, or hotel is on this circuit, and we have been able to watch these Tibetans walking along all day. There are thousands of them, and they are continually walking. There is another contingent who is doing the whole circuit, over and over, one body length at a time, prostrating themselves with each step. At times, the road, about the width of a Chicago alley, is so clogged with prostrators that the people walking are crowded over to one side. We also saw the Jokang temple today, one of the holiest in all of Tibet. Today, as you can imagine, it was flooded with visitors. A huge ceremony was underway involving countless chanting monks, many wearing their distinctive yellow hats, somehow resembling heavily plumed helmets more at home in Homer's Illiad than today's modern world.

Tomorrow we will visit the famed Potala palace. I took many pictures of it from the Jokang, and this buildup has only increased my excitement. The building itself is as impressive as any I've seen, and I simply cannot wait to be inside. After the Potala, Lizzie and I are feverishly deciding on what else to do in this country. More of Tibet? Head out to the rest of China? We only have two more weeks, and this country is just so gigantic. the decision to come to Lhasa has cost us much time, as almost any other destination will require serious travel time. My experiences here have been so powerful however, that another week in this magical country may well be worth our time. Perhaps a little vignette will help paint a picture:

While making the Barkor Circuit, we saw, among the standard prostrators, young boys, early adolescents, eagerly making their way. However, each time they laid themselves down on the pavement, wooden blocks on their hands, and knee pads on their knees, they would thrust themselves forward, in an effort to lengthen each body length, and shorten their time on the ground. Somewhat like saying the Hail Mary by only saying the name of each prayer, instead of the whole thing. Its like these people follow this religion with impressive fervor, but also with a certain silliness.

Its been a long letter folks, but this experience has rivaled all I've had. I could only wish so many of you could be with me, to see these things, and to feel these things I've felt.

Love,
Carl

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