Lhasa, Tibet

Welcome to Tibet - The Roof of the World

Our guide, a lifelong Tibetan of 33 years, and driver welcomed us warmly upon our arrival. On the drive to our hotel in Old Lhasa he gave us a brief historical overview but was excerising much reserve. This sparked my curiosity and I began asking deeper questions to which he responded with a face full of distain "My lips are sealed, the Chinese government won't let me answer those questions."

20 minutes into our drive the van stopped at a checkpoint looking building. I asked what we were doing. Our guide informed us, again with a look of distain, that the Chinese government imposes speed checks. You are timed from one checkpoint to another to ensure you are not speeding. If you arrive too early (speeding) the driver is fined a heafty sum. WHAT! That's crazy to me. The Chinese were not doing this in their own country, why here? One word, oppression.

Tibet or TAR - Tibet Atonomous Region - is controlled by China with an iron fist. China took Tibet with force in 1951. You can check out Robert's writings at www.acminc.com for the story or do a little historical research yourself like we made the boys do.

We figured we would check into the hotel, have lunch and then tour the Potala Palace. Not so, our guide told us our tour was scheduled for 11:00am and since our plane was a half hour late he called to see if we could push the tour time back until Noon. Tour? I asked. He explained the government schedules visits in one hour intervals to ensure not too many people come through the palace on any given day. Our reservation was changed to Noon and we had exactly ONE HOUR to tour the entire palace. Our papers were stamped at 12:58 - two minutes to spare!

Potala Palace

Next, our guide took us to Jokhang Temple on the Bakhor Street Town Square, the center of Buddist worship in Tibet and filled with hundreds of Buddist worshipers. It was like nothing I have ever seen before.

Each worshiper has a three inch thick mat to lay on the ground. Start standing up. Palms clasped in prayer by face. On their palms is what looked to me like paper french fry baskets that all fast food places use. Palms clasped in prayer move to hear center. Down to the ground on all fours, slide hands out in front (french fry baskets are necessary for sliding). Prostrate on mat on the ground. Stand up to begin again. Over and over and over people did this for hours.

Worshipers also prayed in this fashion making a pilgramage all the way around the temple on Bakhor Street. Faces, clothes, hands all dirty from sliding on the filthy ground. One young girl caught my attention. She was strikingly beautiful through her filthy face. The look on her face was sadness, dispair, desperation, pleading. I stood and watched her go by praying to Buddah. I was struck with my own sadness for her.

We continued to wander the streets around the temple. There were vendors selling all things necessary for proper Budist worship, others selling clothing, sunglasses, souvineers and food.I was so intrigued by the sights and sounds that for the first time in my life I can honestly say that people watching trumped shopping. Surprising I know but true.