Tibet Part 1 - Lhasa

And this is where the fun misery for Miss Pratt really began...

Outside the un-opened train station

We arrived in Lhasa late in the afternoon, greeted by fresh air, blue skies, cool temperatures, and a beautiful, brand new train station - that was not opened yet. For Miss Pratt's sake, we I had to lug our bags about 400 meters around to the other side of the station to meet the tour van. While we waited for a few others arriving later, we searched for a bathroom. We found it in a huge building that turned out to be a military barracks, consequently, with neither running water nor any form of air freshener. Clearly, we were about to get a run for our money. 

Typical Tibetan facade

Lhasa is a stark contrast to the rest of China. Most noticeably, the sky was deep blue without the slightest hint of any form of pollutants. I was also amazed to find the streets clean and clear of clutter, modern bridges, tunnels, clutter-free highways, and buildings looking quite pristine. In my mind I had pictured decrepit structures stricken with poverty, and yet here was one of the most beautiful cities I have ever seen, alive with bright colors that contrasted with the dark-skin inhabitants (allow me to explain). 

Lotse, our guide

Tibetans look very different from Han Chinese (the majority). Because of the high elevation and intensity of sunlight, their skin is very dark and rough. It is my observation that beyond a doubt they are the ancestors of Native Americans, so much so it was as if Tibetans went straight to the Bering Strait land bridge and into the Americas without stopping. Our guide, Lotse (pronounced "low-tze") had a striking resemblance to the character Magwa from the film Last of the Mohicans, minus the blood thirst for eating human heart. 

After we settled in our hotel, we walked with some other members of the group to dinner at a local restaurant. The main dish to be served was a yak burger with cheese (for Miss Pratt - ate 1/3 of it) and yak dumplings for me - delicious. In the three blocks we walked, we managed to be ambushed by a hail storm, freezing cold rain, and on the way back, a vendor following us who simply would not take "no" for an answer. An awful night's sleep due to the combination of a super firm mattress and low oxygen levels, the next day wasn't looking great. 

This old monk had no problems
hiking up to the monastery

However, it was fun. As I said before, Lhasa was a beautiful city enhanced by the blue skies and fresh air. An early morning breakfast on the roof of the hotel offered breathtaking panoramic views of the city (which is rather small) dwarfed by the towering mountains on all sides. We made off for the Sera Monastery situated high up on a mountain on the edge of the city. It was a steep climb, and I was a bit winded. Miss Pratt didn't make it but a few meters before resting, unlike the monk 20 years her senior who trekked ahead. 

Riot gear at one of the temples

The monastery was quite large, in earlier days housing as many as 10,000 monks, which begged the question, "How was the plumbing?" Since there was no running water, a building and its hollowed out basement that opened to the outdoors was designated "the little boys' room," conveniently situated near the highest point of the monastery [imagine how fun it would be to stumble up there on a brisk winter night]. The most interesting part however was the riot gear outside the entrance to the main temple in the compound. For my own safety, I will not comment further. 

Monks debating in monastery

We visited two more monasteries while in Lhasa, one of which doubles as a seminary. Young monks have class in the mornings with their master, usually 3-4 students per master, and in the afternoon debate each other in the courtyard. It was quite a spectacle full of fierce passionate dialogue. When a respondent wasn't staying on track to the original questions, the petitioner would slap his hands to bring his attention back. There are some wonderful videos under the "videos" tab. 

The last major stops were Jokhang Temple (complete with pilgrims praying outside) and the Potala Palace which is the symbolic seat of government for Tibet under the Dalai Lama. Miss Pratt didn't go up because it was a very hard climb, though not necessary because the two of us had been the night before to Potala Square across the street. 

Rickshaw in Lhasa

We took a rickshaw, which I incorrectly thought was like the rest in China and powered by an electric motor, from our hotel to the square. I bargained the price down from 30 to 15 RMB (roughly $2.3), however, due to the poor man having to pedal the whole way with our combined weight being no doubt double the norm, I paid the original fare. 

Potala Square is a lot like Tian'anmen Square in Beijing: it is a big, open area with a tall flag pole raised on a marble platform flanked by two armed military guards, a large Chinese flag waving in the wind. The only way to enter is through underground passages and security checks that rival most airports. Once past that, up another flight of stairs (Pratt is dying at this point) and then a whopping 150 meters to the sideline of the main square. Whew!!! It was worth it though. We had majestic views of the palace lit at night with a backdrop of dark clouds against the evening twilight - no, not the vampire movies. The square was alive with loud music and hundreds of locals dancing the night away accompanied by a brightly-lit fountain like that at the Bellagio in Las Vegas. 

Potala Palace, Lhasa