trivialities on the roof of the world.
After spending 12 hours at the desk consecutively for four days in a row, it has suddenly dawned on me that it is extremely unhealthy to leave facebook, and therefore, the world. July is the season of graduation, season of graduation trips, season of newly earned TV interviews, newly taken picture with Boris, season of new discoveries, season of newly climbed mountains. Too much joy being missed leaving Facebook. Summer replaced by work, well you can only make it up with extra-arbeit activities; words are a good start.
The wallpaper on my work desktop reads: arbeit macht frei.
As important as those 12 hours daily seem, on those contemplative roads of Tibet, what takes up the author majority of his time in his home town really doesn't mean much, pretty much at all. It's no wonder; the size of Tibet, height of Himalayas, dwarf pretty much anything. But his work is so much more enlarged in his hometown, and for the author, there is no hardship. Maybe it brings out a bit of the control freak in me. Whatever offence that gives, arbeit macht frei is just the frequent words of the comrade behind, serving as a self-mockery.
Tibet. Seems ever more relevant, distant. In a city half subconsciously brainwashed, we've all been programmed to think of Tibet as the Tibet Autonomous Region, as set in the official tones of China. Tibet, in Tibetan, refers to a geographic area much larger than the autonomous region. It covers large areas of Qinghai, where Tibetan communities continue to thrive. Labrang Monastery, one of the six monasteries of the yellow sect of Tibetan Buddhism, to which Dalai Lama belongs, is located as far north as Gansu. That, is Tibet as it is understood in Tibetan. It is at this moment you comprehend the power of propaganda, as well as discourse, slowly corroding our beliefs and cognition.
Nothing to expect before arrival. Having been to Xinjiang before, yet another region of misnomer, I wonder if the region is as tense, or as desperate to gain independence.
You do question. Both sides of discourse are constantly competing. There is the Dalai Lama I've seen back in London, peaceful and brought humor. You then have people in all parts of Han lands saying ah there's India behind trying to mess things up.
That brings me back to a discussion over cup noodles between a Tibetan hotel owner and Han lady back in Xiahe, Gansu, home of Labrang Monastery.
"We Tibetans have a dream," said the hotel owner.
What he got in return was, "Look at what we've brought; tourism, development, booming economy. You should really thank us."
Enough people of the same race, some form of unseen nationalism naturally arise. "Tibet has historically been part of China," according to official Communist Chinese discourse. Potentially true, see where you pull the argument. The region did form part of the Mongol Yuan Dynasty, and has continued to do so in subsequent dynasties, but it has also been semi-autonomous, not much internal politics interfered. Museums in Tibet, of course, turn the discourse the other way. You then have free Tibet campaigns in the middle of La Rambla of Barcelona (the most memorable one so far in my life), campaigning for a distant land and a strange people.
That brings me back to a discussion over cup noodles between a Tibetan hotel owner and Han lady back in Xiahe, Gansu, home of Labrang Monastery.
"We Tibetans have a dream," said the hotel owner.
What he got in return was, "Look at what we've brought; tourism, development, booming economy. You should really thank us."
热烈庆祝香港周大金珠宝，成功落户西藏日客则市！
It is, therefore, confusing. Han Chinese do get forms of privileges at times. Many officials are Han, and in things as simple as a queue in a military checkpoint, you see at times Han get favored in terms of priority, and due to differences in language, many just keep quiet. Wouldn't you just hate your life when you're forced to speak a language other than your mother tongue just to get by in daily life. That's how grief is gradually generated. But there is the other side: the state, at least nominally, favors minorities. Thus Tibetans have priority going to monasteries, free entry. These are, after all, Tibetan monasteries. Seen too little still, but language and misunderstanding is a key there. The tense scenes in Xinjiang don't exist on the surface. And other than the many security check points, one cannot easily spot where a self-immolating monk would come from.
Or perhaps, precisely because of the many security checkpoints, the self-immolating monk is nowhere to be found. All pathways into downtown Barkhor Square, are stationed with baggage scans. All roads into Lhasa are also stationed with checkpoints. It is heard that once when it was tense, non-Lhasa Tibetans had troubles entering Lhasa by vehicle. Best of all, they got Tibetans to do the job.
Lhasa's economy is booming, as evidenced by the brand new shopping malls and supermarkets, and the new housing district just outside the district. You see ads in local newspapers promoting Lhasa as the new international business hub (as do ads in multiple Chinese cities). But Tibetans do not buy groceries in supermarkets; they do so in Chong Xeikon. Supermarkets in downtown are designed only for Han Chinese and foreign tourists, selling consumer products at highly un-affordable prices for locals. For the Han who lives there, or the foreigner who passes by, if no effort is made to know their way, one can only afford goods at high prices, expensive even compared to inland Chinese cities.
This booming economy is, at best, the so-called weiwen economy - the economy of keeping stability. In a place where people do not listen, you pump money in as long as you can afford it. You create a scene of prosperity for the eyes of outsiders. You materially pollute the minds of those who are most influential, who also happen to be, at least theoretically, the ones who should be least moved by material goods and the mundane world. You follow the line of our leader of second generation, first let part of the people get rich, and then they will listen and give you a hand.
Like many other countries in Asia, since official TV channels are dominated by a certain discourse, there is only so many other ways information gets diffused. Tea houses are the way, reminding me slightly of those in Damascus. No shisha pipes, just extremely cheap noodles and that addictive Tibetan sweet tea.
And so they do. Let's not talk about those Tibetans in the city who have risen in ranks relying on connections. Unconfirmed sources say Lamas earn up to 10000 RMB a month. That's more than an entry-level job salary in an underpaying firm in Hong Kong. Base salary 5000/6000, but if you don't immolate yourself or instigate resistance you get a bonus . This also doesn't include the generous donation received for religiously blessing certain objects (开光), and the more learned you are the more you receive. Consider a normal waiter in mainland makes 3000 a month, that sum is quite something. This is the soft side of controlling monasteries, and with a soft side, there is a hard one. If you look closely, each monastery is stationed with some adolescent-looking men. They hold a walky, dress in plain clothes and look just like any other teenager on the street. Yet they don't seem to be visitors, because they answer your questions when you are lost. I was talking to one who was trying to hit on a girl while at his job (when he proved to have no game), and he talked about the multifaceted Tibet. Just listened. Status of living buddha can now be reached through examination. And he also said, don't think Tibetans are poor cause they dress poor, many of them can buy an entire street.
You start understanding the existential purpose of a Ministry of Religion. The ministry accredits its own cardinals, turns its monks into members of CPPCC, hence successfully manipulate supposedly faithful peoples with a faithless ideology. It's not their fault really, just happens when your survival is at stake, in a country where one's life has never really worth much. You give them a choice; faith or material goods. You tell them, they are not necessarily mutually exclusive. Tourism is going to bring you material success and economic development, and therefore you should not resist. You start question, is economic development really a universal norm?
Further takeaway with a more biological twist: in an area already lacking oxygen, large piles of feces will suffocate you. This is especially true when a modernized toilet is such a scarce commodity. The feces will fight you for oxygen, with its ammonia. Good energy source though, if you manage to build enough machinery for all that feces lying around. Can at least generate enough electricity to power an entire village. This one research was right; toilet building business is really a potential gold mine in the future, given the numerous places in the world lacking flush toilets.
To this day, I still do not get the strict speeding limit controls in the region. Checkpoints appear regularly, and there is a preset time to pass through a section of a road. If you arrive early, each minute is punishable for 200 RMB. What this creates is frustrated travelers who cannot travel to more desired destinations on a daily basis, and occasional traffic jams that really get out of hand because a single lane road will immediately become a three-lane road.
In such frustrating times amidst the stunning naturaleza, the following fellow has helped me through those long hours.
Phurbu Namgyal. Took me such pains to find him online, but just couldn't find the song that was so repeatedly played in our 4WD ride. Only clue I had to this guy was his name, pronounced in Tibetan, not entirely helpful given my Tibetan level. It just happened that I couldn't find any of his albums in any music store, which was really rather unusual. More unusual was that it seemed people knew who I was talking about, but none of his music was anywhere to be sold. A little like Rodriguez in the States and South Africa? It was not till identifying him that I found out he was a Tibetan activist singer in the States. No wonder our lovely driver told us to "download" the music online.
Another fellow to mention, our driver, always top of his game. Always in those old school shades, white cloth gloves, an 80s suit, jeans, and a same shirt that's seemingly worn everyday. At a certain point, on our way to Mount Everest to Shigatse （日客則）, heavy rain overnight has washed down an entire bridge. Good thing that despite the fast waters, river was shallow. We managed to drive across with our 4WD after an extra hour or two of waiting. And thanks to our the superb skills of our driver. There was a point when a big piece of rock in the river bed was determined to trip the car into losing balance, but we managed to cross. And then Ban Ba the driver stopped and when back to help his mate who was stuck in the middle of the river. Pulled a tracker in the middle of the river and pulled the car up. How long it takes to fix the bridge? A few months maybe. When the government falls short on providing, gotta depend on yourself.
And with all that determination, we saw that sneaky mistress Everest, finally willing to lift its veil of clouds for a morning.
Or perhaps, precisely because of the many security checkpoints, the self-immolating monk is nowhere to be found. All pathways into downtown Barkhor Square, are stationed with baggage scans. All roads into Lhasa are also stationed with checkpoints. It is heard that once when it was tense, non-Lhasa Tibetans had troubles entering Lhasa by vehicle. Best of all, they got Tibetans to do the job.
Lhasa's economy is booming, as evidenced by the brand new shopping malls and supermarkets, and the new housing district just outside the district. You see ads in local newspapers promoting Lhasa as the new international business hub (as do ads in multiple Chinese cities). But Tibetans do not buy groceries in supermarkets; they do so in Chong Xeikon. Supermarkets in downtown are designed only for Han Chinese and foreign tourists, selling consumer products at highly un-affordable prices for locals. For the Han who lives there, or the foreigner who passes by, if no effort is made to know their way, one can only afford goods at high prices, expensive even compared to inland Chinese cities.
This booming economy is, at best, the so-called weiwen economy - the economy of keeping stability. In a place where people do not listen, you pump money in as long as you can afford it. You create a scene of prosperity for the eyes of outsiders. You materially pollute the minds of those who are most influential, who also happen to be, at least theoretically, the ones who should be least moved by material goods and the mundane world. You follow the line of our leader of second generation, first let part of the people get rich, and then they will listen and give you a hand.
Like many other countries in Asia, since official TV channels are dominated by a certain discourse, there is only so many other ways information gets diffused. Tea houses are the way, reminding me slightly of those in Damascus. No shisha pipes, just extremely cheap noodles and that addictive Tibetan sweet tea.
 |
 |
| Tibetan cafes, where info through the grapevine gets passed around. |
And so they do. Let's not talk about those Tibetans in the city who have risen in ranks relying on connections. Unconfirmed sources say Lamas earn up to 10000 RMB a month. That's more than an entry-level job salary in an underpaying firm in Hong Kong. Base salary 5000/6000, but if you don't immolate yourself or instigate resistance you get a bonus . This also doesn't include the generous donation received for religiously blessing certain objects (开光), and the more learned you are the more you receive. Consider a normal waiter in mainland makes 3000 a month, that sum is quite something. This is the soft side of controlling monasteries, and with a soft side, there is a hard one. If you look closely, each monastery is stationed with some adolescent-looking men. They hold a walky, dress in plain clothes and look just like any other teenager on the street. Yet they don't seem to be visitors, because they answer your questions when you are lost. I was talking to one who was trying to hit on a girl while at his job (when he proved to have no game), and he talked about the multifaceted Tibet. Just listened. Status of living buddha can now be reached through examination. And he also said, don't think Tibetans are poor cause they dress poor, many of them can buy an entire street.
Monks debating Buddhist scripture. At least appearing to be so.
You start understanding the existential purpose of a Ministry of Religion. The ministry accredits its own cardinals, turns its monks into members of CPPCC, hence successfully manipulate supposedly faithful peoples with a faithless ideology. It's not their fault really, just happens when your survival is at stake, in a country where one's life has never really worth much. You give them a choice; faith or material goods. You tell them, they are not necessarily mutually exclusive. Tourism is going to bring you material success and economic development, and therefore you should not resist. You start question, is economic development really a universal norm?
Further takeaway with a more biological twist: in an area already lacking oxygen, large piles of feces will suffocate you. This is especially true when a modernized toilet is such a scarce commodity. The feces will fight you for oxygen, with its ammonia. Good energy source though, if you manage to build enough machinery for all that feces lying around. Can at least generate enough electricity to power an entire village. This one research was right; toilet building business is really a potential gold mine in the future, given the numerous places in the world lacking flush toilets.
What's that shit taste like?
To this day, I still do not get the strict speeding limit controls in the region. Checkpoints appear regularly, and there is a preset time to pass through a section of a road. If you arrive early, each minute is punishable for 200 RMB. What this creates is frustrated travelers who cannot travel to more desired destinations on a daily basis, and occasional traffic jams that really get out of hand because a single lane road will immediately become a three-lane road.
 |
| Aside the speed controls, Tibetan roads do have much to offer. |
In such frustrating times amidst the stunning naturaleza, the following fellow has helped me through those long hours.
 |
| Namtso, literally breathtaking. |
Another fellow to mention, our driver, always top of his game. Always in those old school shades, white cloth gloves, an 80s suit, jeans, and a same shirt that's seemingly worn everyday. At a certain point, on our way to Mount Everest to Shigatse （日客則）, heavy rain overnight has washed down an entire bridge. Good thing that despite the fast waters, river was shallow. We managed to drive across with our 4WD after an extra hour or two of waiting. And thanks to our the superb skills of our driver. There was a point when a big piece of rock in the river bed was determined to trip the car into losing balance, but we managed to cross. And then Ban Ba the driver stopped and when back to help his mate who was stuck in the middle of the river. Pulled a tracker in the middle of the river and pulled the car up. How long it takes to fix the bridge? A few months maybe. When the government falls short on providing, gotta depend on yourself.
Ban Ba, our man!
Car stuck in the river, drivers to the rescue! Solidarity not often seen.
And with all that determination, we saw that sneaky mistress Everest, finally willing to lift its veil of clouds for a morning.
 |
| And on the other side of the base camp. |
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