The Skinny on Tibet

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家庭和朋友 (Family & Friends),

Traveling by Train:

Cigarette smoke plumes in the thin air as we cruise across the high Tibetan plateau. A bag of potato chips balloons on the table in front of me as we reach altitudes upwards of 5,000 meters (17,000 feet). Still, a dining car filled with arrogant Chinese officials, only strengthens my malice towards communist rule. I am torn on how to label such an eclectic and expansive nation. However, I am doing my best to keep an open mind. Nevertheless, what we will see in the near future will only paint a clearer picture of what has already began to form.

Twenty-four hours on a train coupled with scenery of this magnitude offers a breeding ground for contemplation. From snow covered peaks to desert dunes to rolling plains, such landscapes cannot be dismissed. Mostly consisting of Hun Chinese and Tibetans, the handful of westerners on board are at an undeniable disadvantage. As we share a table with Peter (a citizen the Czech Republic) and Bruno (a traveler from Switzerland), the conversation leans towards how the waitresses and staff on board are running the hustle on lunch prices and keep kicking us out of the dining car. This dubious honor will be bestowed upon us time and time again. It seems that the only real patrons that can frequent the boxcar are those that should be working on the train. Waitresses, cooks, and namely rent-a-cops, smugly parking themselves at tables so that they can eat, drink, smoke, and bark orders.

While those with authority in the dining car flex their limited power, the Chinese citizens that we were bunking with are somewhat more considerate. Never did we have an issue with their presence, even though quarters resembled that of a nuclear submarine. Quite to the contrary, the lite hearted conversation and sharing of food offered between occupants is a welcomed reprise from the government counterparts.

Locating Lhasa:

After arriving in Lhasa, the thin air began to take its toll on us. Short of breath, we exited the station and soon located our quote Tibetan guide that was actually Chinese. Now, to understand the significance of this, one must understand some background information that is relevant.

Fifty years ago, the Chinese forcefully conquered the peaceful nation of Tibet. With overwhelming military force they killed or imprisoned thousands of Buddhist Monks and Tibetan citizens that did not put up a fight. The Chinese propaganda stated that they were liberating the Tibetan people and giving them opportunity, that as yak herders, they would never have. However, this liberation was unwelcomed and still is today by the Tibetan people. I have not spoken with one citizen that calls him or herself Tibetan, who thinks positively about the Chinese occupation. Contrary to the stated, the real reason for the Chinese invasion was to secure the massive amounts of untapped natural resources in the region and integrate the Tibetans into Chinese society. Since China is going through its industrial revolution and growing at such a rapid rate, they require massive amounts of resources to fuel the economic machine. Now with this said, lets jump forward fifty years.

Some of you may remember the riots that broke out in 2008 protesting Chinese rule and the subsequent slaughter that followed. To prevent a coo, the Chinese military crushed any protest with overwhelming force. Protestors were shot on sight in the streets. While, others were imprisoned. Most disturbingly, were the monks who tried to walk over the mountainous borders into India, but were dropped by Chinese snipers one after another. These are things you never here about because of the media blackout implemented by the Chinese. Collectively, over 10,000 people were killed or taken captive, never to be seen again.

Today, the Chinese government, fearing another uprising, controls all aspects of the region. One cannot enter into the area without a government permit and must be accompanied at all times to ensure compliance. There are roadblocks every 10 kilometers where permits and contents of cars are checked. Times of departures and expected arrivals are noted. If you arrive at the next roadblock too late, suspicion is raised as to why it took you so long and where you went. If you arrive to early you must pull over on the side of the road and wait until the proper time before proceeding. This was proven as our transfer stopped multiple times on the side of the road for cigarette breaks and to check the tires (ultimately turning a 7 hour trip into a 10 hour trip). The way this abundance of misinformation is explained is that all visitors must buy a tour for their own enjoyment and protection (against the peaceful Tibetans of course). However, the reality of the matter is to control all movement within the country. It is important to note that every Chinese citizen that I spoke bought into the government’s propaganda. While some were ignorant to the reality, others just chose to purposely believe the lies. I believe this stems for the psychology of communist rule, abundant misinformation circulating, and limited communication with other regions of the world (i.e. the blocking of many internet sites by the Chinese government).

Nonetheless, the Lhasa that we as westerners know largely does not exist. Pictures that we see do not show the clash of a modern and traditional city. The Potala Palace is a tourist attraction orchestrated by the Chinese Army. Guards march constantly through market centers wearing riot gear next to elderly women dressed in traditional Tibetan clothing spinning prayer wheels. Lhasa’s future is uncertain, but one thing is for sure it will not return to its previous self any time soon (if ever). While signs of Tibetan culture have started to see resurgence it will not be without Chinese influence. The best hope that the Tibetans and the Chinese have is to recognize the importance of this unique culture and work towards its preservation in an emerging modern world.

So with our Chinese babysitter at hand, we embarked on our quote tour of Lhasa. Soon we realized that not only was our guides knowledge of the area and its culture insufficient, but her English (or should I say Engrish) was just about as bad as my Chinese. After multiple requests for a Tibetan guide were shot down, we decided to take matters into our own hands. This is when our luck began to turn. Leaving our place of residence, we decided to beat the streets to find a local joint and maybe make some local contacts. With luck on our side, we found a young Tibetan man named Tse ring Ta shi. Settling at a local teahouse with Ta shi, we made conversation and gathered Intel about the area. I was surprised at how good his English was and his willingness to help. However, this soon became clear when we learned that not only was Ta shi studying English at a local school, but also was an aspiring tour guide. Jackpot! We already knew the Chinese perspective on things, now we wanted the Tibetan vantage point and Ta shi was our man.

While we still had to keep our Chinese guide happy to stay in the country, the contrast between the two became more and more apparent. Days were filled with visits of holy places such as Potala Palace (Lhasa’s former home of the Dalai Lama) and Lake Namtso (the world’s highest). However, our evenings and nights have been filled with teahouses, partaking in Tibetan pilgrimages, and mingling with the locals.

Chinese Confrontation:

Since diving into the local culture we have realized the night and day difference between the Chinese and the Tibetans. I have done my best to keep an open mind and remain neutral, but one can only do this for so long before ignore reality. While the Tibetans have proved opposite, many Chinese (note: not all Chinese) have shown that they will cheat and lie to save face, smoke anywhere (including elevators), spit on restaurant floors, and proposition yours truly in the most unlikely of places (i.e. the barber shop). For example, yesterday we almost were kicked out of the country. As I explained before, we needed a permit to be here. Our original permit expired on the 27th. However, several days before we had contacted the agency that sold us the permit in Xining to try to have it extended or buy a new one. After going back and forth for several days we were told that our existing permit would last until the 30th and we could proceed as planned. Perfect, right? Wrong.

As we sat in the lobby of the Yak Hotel, two Chinese nationals from a sister agency approached and asked to see our permit. I obliged and handed over the permit. I could tell that they already had an attitude, but what else was new? After reviewing the permit and discussing amongst themselves in Chinese, they said that they were keeping our permit and that we had to leave the country immediately. Now as you might expect this came as quite a shock, but we also knew that things change daily here. So as we tried to figure out why this was transpiring, the male agent involved, pulled out a camera and tried to take our picture. This is where my demeanor went form cooperative to combative. As he pulled out his camera, I arose from my seat, approached, and put my hand over his lens. He spouted of something that I could not understand and I told him that if he wanted to continue it would be at his own risk. I also told him that he was not keeping our permits. He said I could not have them and began to walk away. I gave chase and caught him outside. As he tried to exert authority I grabbed him, spun him around, and just before we came to fist to cuffs, the female agent stepped in between us. I was furious at this point. He started yelling and pulled out his phone and said he was calling the police. I said go right ahead, but that it wasn’t going to stop me from whipping his ass before they got there. He abruptly put down the phone. One thing that we have learned since being in this country is that the Chinese will say anything to intimidate you and neither of us like being intimidated.

During this fiasco Aaron (being more patient than I at the time) had been inside trying to contact the agency from Xining to sort out the permits. As talks were renegotiated between the two agencies and us, cooler heads began to prevail. However, this was not without the occasional flair up. Still, progress was at a standstill. There scare tactics continued by telling us that we could not get a new permit and then stating it would cost $1,000US. Still we held our ground. Several other agents were called in and more propaganda was thrown out. We heard everything from that we must leave immediately before there was big trouble for us to we are calling the police and the government to we must go back to Xining to get more permits. Still, we stood fast and refused to buy into the bullshit. By the evenings end, they realized that their efforts were futile and had actually backfired. Before it was all over with, we had our new permits, which were paid for by the agency (not us), and the old boy who I had almost knocked out had given us back our original permits (come to find out he was the boss). Go figure.

Tibetan Culture:

With our permits in hand and the logistics of our departure taken care of (mainly because they hated us now and wanted us out of the country), we wanted to separate ourselves as far as we could from the Chinese. Previously, we had spent time with Ta shi whom had introduced us to the local Tibetan area, food (such as momo (yak dumplings), sampa (flat bread filled with meat), and janamu (sweet milk tea), and people. We knew that he might be able to point us in the right direction so we asked him to help us with contacts.

One evening after touring the area we settled in at a local eatery to have a beer. Ta shi had said he was going to meet us and wanted to show us something. Upon his arrival, he asked us if we would accompany him to class. Appreciative for all his help, we were more than happy to follow. Winding in and out of the packed markets streets that one might picture in such a setting we happened upon a back alley that opened into a run down schoolyard. As we made our way through a doorway and up concrete stairs, we reached the third floor and his classroom. His English teacher was waiting outside the classroom with the door shut. He promptly thanked us for coming and began to open the door to his class. As the door was cracked and it contents revealed, no fewer than 30 Tibetan students ranging from 16 to 25 years of age starting cheering. Now I don’t get jostled easily, but this made the top of my head start to tingle. Evidently, word had gotten around and our arrival had been long anticipated. After the rock star entrance, hand shaking, and smiles all around. I took a seat at the front of the class. As the teacher gave introductions, all eyes were upon me. Then something unexpected happened. He asked me if I would teach the class. The subsequent roar from the class meant that I had no choice. I arose and made my way to the front. As I turned to face the class, I paused to take in the painfully curious students staring through me, the off white chipped paint on the walls, the wooden make shift desks and chairs, and the lack of lighting coming from the single window in the back of the room. I had no lesson plan, no prior knowledge of the student’s ability, or the boundaries in which I could stay within or go out of. I was just going to have to wing it. Oddly enough, being put in this situation, I was totally comfortable. As I opened with who I was, where I was from, and what I did, I formulated a strategy in the back of my mind on how to proceed. I would just let the students teach the class and I would give it structure. Opening up the floor to questions would hopefully provide some content for discussion and provide it did.

At first there was a little reservation, but then they began to open up. I smiled, acted animated, and cracked jokes to ease the tension. Soon we were rolling. I had to act as not only educator, but ringmaster also. Their enthusiasm was over whelming as they yelled out questions, laughed at jokes, and ooed and aughed over explanations. I was impressed at how deep and comprehensive their questions were and at times I had to pause in order to answer them. I would describe the class as more philosophical than instructive though. The class, as well as I, was so into the experience that the teacher had to remind us that we had run 15 minutes over the one and half hour time limit. As the class wound down, the students begged in unison if I would come back. On a natural high, I agreed.

As we packed up materials, I decided a homework assignment was in order. Next class they were to write down what Tibet means to them and teach me about their country. Contradictory to my actions when teachers gave me homework, they applauded. As we poured out of the classroom, I was surrounded by students from not only my class, but also neighboring ones. They smiled, patted me on the back, said they really enjoyed the class, and wanted to make sure I was coming back. About this time I saw Aaron down the hall, whom had been teaching his own class. The crowd surrounding him confirmed that he had had the same experience. Fifteen to twenty minutes later, we were able to slowly push our way through the mob that had formed and make our way to the street. What a rush. I did not come down from the high for several hours.

My next class would prove just as satisfying, as I would learn much about the country in which I currently reside from its citizens. To cap off the class, I had created a slide show of pictures from home on my computer. As they crowded around the rotating images set to music from Jack Johnson and Citizen Cope, I gave some description to what they were seeing. Long story short, I had to peel them out of their desks to get them to go home. What an experience. From beggars, to thieves, to their hostile nature, nothing that I have been told about these people from the Chinese has been true. Consequently, it has been quite the contrary.

It is hard to encompass every experience in my writings, many of which are left out. Even the pictures cannot capture the true meaning of things. Still, putting some of it down with hopefully jog the memory of what once was many years from now.

Check out other adventures at our new site Ultra Expeditions and see what we are up to.

The Quote:

“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do.
-Mark Twain

The Plan:

Sunday marks the beginning of the end for my travels (for now). Boarding a plane back to Beijing, Aaron and I will say our goodbyes and catch our connecting flights. I had seriously thought of extending my trip, but after thinking long and hard about it I will wait. Maybe after school I will take more time for a longer tour (a year or more).

Still, my current travels have only increased my resolve in seeing nothing but possibilities in the world. The borders, cultures, and walls that separate us are really just a masquerade. The media tells us about the things that surround us in the world, but until you see it with your own eyes, you will never fully understand (for better or for worse).

最好的 (Best),
Jason

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