Leaving Lhasa

The morning Bill took his flight back to Shanghai, I awoke with a brutal case of food poisoning. I won't get into the disgusting details, but I will tell you this: it is a horrible feeling running to the bathroom trying to gamble on which awful bodily fluid is going to come out first. Did I say I wasn't going to get into the details? I guess I lied. For three days, I was mostly bed-ridden and I couldn't keep a meal down to save my life. My friends and dorm mates were nice enough to check on me and buy water for me from the store while I sat in the room, wallowing in my own sick misery.

The third morning of my adventure in food poisoning was the day of Lhasa's Yogurt Festival, which only takes place once per year. I wasn't about to let a little intestinal mayhem get in the way of going to a festival, so I woke up at 5:00 am along with the rest of the city, met up with my friends Tahmina and Will and jumped on a bus to Drepung Monastery, a few minutes outside of town. Each year on August 23rd, the monks at Drepung unveil a Tibetan thangka, which is a gigantic fabric painting, hung on the side of the hills near the monastery. We arrived at the monastery in the pitch black of the early morning surrounded by thousands upon thousands of pilgrims, monks, and tourists alike. Pilgrims sang rhythmic songs, monks chanted and rang bells, and piles of burning incense filled the air with sooty smoke as we pushed our way along with the masses toward the top of the hill where they would display the thangka.



The wait was long — almost three hours of standing and waiting in the pouring rain before fifty monks finally gathered and began to slowly pull the thangka's gigantic mass until it was revealed. Will and I hiked from our previous vantage point and got up close to the thangka's base, where it was like a mosh-pit without music, people desperately pushing their way to get closer to the thangka and the monks who were blessing the crowd. We made our way back toward Tahmina who was warming up by a smoky incense fire, and left the monastery. By noon, my stomach had had enough of not being in bed, so I left the Yogurt Festival early and get some rest.



Side note: Apparently, it is called the Yogurt Festival because after the thangka is hung and dancing and festivities get going people eat — you guessed it — yogurt. Which I suppose means that I've had quite a few yogurt festivals of my own in the past. Who knows, maybe you're having your own yogurt festival as you read this? If not, crack open a Yoplait and get celebrating.

I've been in Lhasa for more than two weeks now, longer than I've spent anywhere else on the trip. The nice thing about having a year to travel is that I'm able to just stay around for a while in places that I enjoy without having to worry about it. Two weeks in Lhasa for no reason? Why not? I've become a regular in a handful of restaurants, and the people at the internet/breakfast place see me every morning, probably wondering if I'm ever going to leave. Since a lot of travelers use Lhasa as a base for exploring Tibet, people end up spending a lot of time in the city which means I see people I know around on the streets almost every day and I rarely eat a meal here without some good company.

Last night, I spent several hours as the sun was setting wandering through the alleys and lanes inside the Tibetan part of town, enjoying it for the last time. Every day, I am amazed at how warm and friendly many Tibetan people are. Even as I walk through the back streets, people greet me with Tashi Delek and a smile. It is really hard to describe wandering around in the Tibetan part of Lhasa accurately; it is an experience that pushes the limits of all five senses. Walking past doorways, you hear women singing from places you can't see. Kids expertly kick around deflated soccer balls in tiny alleys they use as fields. Yak meat hangs from store windows, waiting for someone to snatch them up. The crack of a pool cue striking a ball echoes through the streets and you catch glimpses of games among friends being played on worn tables out in open air. Old men shout for good luck as they slap down dice and trade shells, coins and cash in a gambling game they play in the middle of the street.



I’m leaving Lhasa in just a few hours in a 4-wheel-drive along with three other Americans who I met yesterday morning. We're headed on a four day trip to a few Tibetan towns on our way to Everest Base Camp, where we hope to catch a glimpse of the tallest mountain in the world. This time of year, the views are mostly obscured by clouds. Wish us luck.

Ryan!