Gap Year

Yunnan

“I hate it when people say China is poor! We aren’t!” said my Chinese friend while standing at a metro stop. On first thought, I agreed wholeheartedly. China, as a country, is incredibly wealthy; they spend billions on infrastructure, the World Expo, and even back the U.S.’s massive debt. Of course it’s not a poor country!

On my recent trip to the Yunnan Province in Southwest China, my friend’s statement kept playing in my head as I got my first taste of rural China. I wondered, “Can one really call China a wealthy country?”

On Sunday, June 6^th, the day my exchange program officially ended, Josh, another CIEE student, and I headed to Yunnan. After an airport fiasco—Did you know that Chinese airlines can’t always check you into your connecting flight?—we arrived in Lijiang, a small, very touristy town. We woke up early the next morning and caught a bus to the Tiger Leaping Gorge.

Rated as the top hike in China, the 15 kilometer Tiger Leaping Gorge is famous for a roaring river that passes between two 5,000-meter mountains, Jade Snow Mountain and Haba Xueshan, with 2,000-meter cliffs. Tradition claims that a tiger once leapt across the gorge to escape from a hunter, thus the name. One can hike the fourteen-mile trail and traverse the top of the gorge, and after hearing rave reviews, we set out to accomplish our first goal for the trip.

After the initial problem of locating the trail, we set off along with two guys from the Netherlands. The first portion of the hike was easy. We slowly ascended while hiking deeper into the gorge, and since we weren’t out of breath, we admired the gorgeous scenery. The jagged, snow-covered mountains were imposing and absolutely breathtaking.

After the gentle beginning, the hike suddenly grew difficult when we reached the Twenty-Eight Bends. We were still low and close to the water, so to reach higher elevation, we climbed through switchbacks up a cliff. It wasn’t as bad as climbing the steps of Wudang Mountain, but my legs sure did burn!

After the bends the hike became easy again, and we reached the Halfway Guesthouse with only one minor problem. After the bends, a scenic viewpoint offered a great picture of the gorge, and an old, crazy man with an entrepreneurial spirit, setup a one-man tollbooth and charged eight Yuan, a bit over one USD, to take pictures from the point. I obliged, not wanting to cause trouble, and impressed the man with my Chinese. The Dutch guys hiking with us did not want to pay and flatly refused with the reasoning that he had no right to charge us.

As we walked back up to the trail from the viewpoint, the man blocked off the entrance, picked up a rock, and threatened to throw the Dutch guys into the gorge if he didn’t knock them out with the rock first! Josh and I translated this, but with a rock to their heads, the Dutch guys understood. This crazy old man was serious, so they hurriedly reached for their wallets.

The second day dawned clear and sunny, and we quickly finished the last portion of the hike and reached Tina’s Guesthouse. There were not enough people yet to share a van back to the start of the gorge, so we decided to take an optional hike down to the bottom of the gorge. Mistake! To reach the bottom, we literally had to climb up and down a sheer cliff. Each step down the rocky, steep trail I thought, “This is going to be so awful coming up!” At one point, we were presented an option to take a ladder down a twenty-plus-foot section, but of course, we opted for the safer option and eventually reached the bottom of the gorge.

The way up, however, was a different story. If we took the ladder, we would avoid the steepest section, saving time and energy. Josh determined the ladder was sturdy—it was a metal ladder nailed in the side of a cliff—but he was still hesitant: “I don’t want you to get stuck halfway up the ladder!”

I assured him that I wouldn’t and began the ascent. “Whatever you do, don’t look down,” I thought to myself. I made it to the top without looking down and collapsed, hyperventilating. Apparently, I also didn’t breathe!

Eventually, we made it back to the top and found people to share a bus back to the beginning, and thus we began our second adventure of the day, the low-road. There is a reason no one hikes the low-road, which runs along the bottom of the gorge; it’s dangerous! Why? Rockslides occur frequently blocking the road or even causing the road to collapse.

Just that morning, in fact, a rockslide occurred that blocked a section of the road. When we reached the rockslide, we got out of the van and climbed over the rocks… Let’s just say I’m thankful to be alive and that my parents didn’t know at the time. We safely reached the end of the low-road, and eventually, we made it back to Lijiang where we gleefully washed off the layers of dust. We’d hiked the gorge and survived the low-road. Success!!!

We spent the next day exploring Lijiang and the nearby village of Baisha. Although both were very touristy, Baisha offered a closer look into rural China. The most interesting event of the day occurred as we were wandering near the front gate of Baisha. This petite old lady approached us and began speaking to us in Mandarin with an accent neither of us could understand. We did gather, however, that she wanted us to follow her. Skeptically, we left the tourist area and followed her into her home where she hurriedly served us tea and snacks. We were completely confused!

Luckily, as she began making us lunch, she set four notebooks on the table for us to look at. All were filled with comments in countless languages thanking her for her generous hospitality. This woman “kidnaps” tourists and showers them with kindness! Feeling much better about the situation, we enjoyed lunch and profusely thanked her for her kindness before we headed back to Lijiang. Even in this busy modern world, generous people still exist who show kindness to strangers. :)

On Thursday, after flying back to Kunming, the capital of the Yunnan Province, we caught a six-hour bus to Yuanyang, a rural area famous for its rice terraces. The terraces are carved into the sides of mountains, and no matter what time of year, they offer a magnificent view. We spent most of Friday visiting different terraces, which left us in awe with their rich green color.

Almost as interesting as the terraces were the surrounding villages. Now this was rural China. Livestock, such as large water buffalos, roamed the narrow paths, creating a permanent stench of manure; villagers, most of whom were of an ethnic minority, carried baskets on their backs as they walked down to work in the fields; and, old men gathered on steps to smoke large bongs with watered-down tobacco and exchanged the latest news.

It was here that my friend’s statement began playing in my head. “Is China really wealthy?” I kept asking myself. In the U.S., small towns are still modern and aren’t necessarily below the poverty line. But here, in rural Yunnan, a small town felt as if I had suddenly entered a third-world country, and Yunnan isn’t even one of China’s poorest provinces.

The gap between China’s rich and poor is at a thirty-year high. People in cities enjoy a much higher standard of living and on average earn three times the income. Yes, life has improved drastically for the fifty percent of China’s population who live in the countryside, but they still only account for twelve percent of China’s wealth. Often grievances from this group of the population go unnoticed as people complain about the wrong problems and don’t know how to be heard.

This large income gap threatens the ultimate power of the government. If the rural population were to join together in opposition, the government would face a problem that would lead to greatly needed changes. The government continues to play a more important role in international affairs and threatens to become the new world’s leader, but with so many fault lines—ethnic minorities, income gaps, and factory conditions just to name a few—China’s march to world power will bring increasing domestic tension and someday much needed change.

After a day at the rice terraces, we headed back to Kunming and enjoyed a day exploring the nearby Stone Forest and some of the city. Kunming is a great city that encompasses both old, rural China and a modern-day city. One can see a horse-pulled cart where just miles away sits a large shopping mall with Louis Vuitton.

Josh and I arrived back to Shanghai Monday afternoon, and since then, I’ve been rushing to get ready for my next adventure, India. I will be taking a photography course and traveling to Delhi, the Ladakh region, and Agra. After two weeks in India, I will fly to Shanghai where I will gather my belongings and fly home the next afternoon. With that said it’s time to keep packing—it’s amazing how many things I’ve acquired over the year!

My next post will likely come when I’m back in the States, so until then, cheers!

Click here for photos.

 

 

Shanghai: The Last Adventures

First and foremost, Happy Children’s Day! Yes, on June 1^st, China celebrates its children. It’s a great occasion for a new outfit, new toys, and an afternoon of playing rather than attending class! With the one-child policy, children in China are already endlessly doted over, but Children’s Day makes it an official holiday. Growing up, I felt most days were Children’s Days, but hey, an official day to spoil would have been excellent! :)

A lot has been happening, but the most interesting to note in the last few weeks would be the Expo. Since my post about my first day at the Expo, I’ve returned three times and have visited numerous pavilions, including pavilions hosted by China, Spain, France, Italy, Germany, U.S.A, Canada, Mexico, Vietnam, Nepal, Iran, Pakistan, and North Korea, just to name a few. It’s impossible to see all of the pavilions since lines can be up to eight hours long—don’t worry, the longest I spent in line was four hours!

The best pavilion by far was Germany; not only was it fun—they had a slide (it was meant for children, but I enjoyed it!) and an interactive show—but they also embraced the Expo theme of “Better city, better life” with numerous displays showcasing high-tech products of the future, all of which aim to enhance our lives. It was disappointing that many pavilions appeared to ignore the theme and instead focused on culture and attractions.

The China Pavilion was intriguing. The pavilion looked awesome from the outside, and the inside revealed a lot about the underlying intent of the government-sponsored show. A few displays portrayed the theme, but it felt a bit like propaganda.

On the note of propaganda, the North Korea Pavilion was certainly the most intriguing. It was a small building, and the inside contained numerous pictures of happy, modernized cities. As we sat staring in disbelief at the pictures, it was all we could do but exclaim, “This can’t be North Korea!” To add to the contradiction, above a wall of photos were the words, “Paradise for People.” I don’t think so…

The U.S.A.’s pavilion was remarkably good given that it was pulled off in just a few months. In November, when the Chinese Pavilion was almost finished, the construction on the U.S.’s had not even begun. Hilary Clinton raised the needed money at the last minute overcoming the obstacle of zero government funding—the U.S. Government does not fund pavilions for World Expos. The outside was classy, not frivolous, and the inside showcased three movies, which were all very good.

After my time at the Expo, I’ve decided that all in all, it’s kind of pointless. Shanghai alone spent 45 billion dollars towards Expo preparations. Now, some of that money went to worthwhile things like building new metro lines, but so much of it was spent on something that lasts a mere six months and will then disappear! China, however, finds the money well spent; the Expo is their way of announcing their presence to the world. I am sure that China could have gained much greater recognition from the international community had they spent the money towards lifting people out of poverty, improving schools and healthcare, or introducing green alternatives throughout the country.

My Expo visiting has finished, and now I only have six full days left in Shanghai. Gasp. Since returning from Tibet, time has flown; I’ve been visiting those special places one last time, picking up the last few souvenirs, and saying goodbye to friends. With so much going on, packing hasn’t even begun… I’ve started organizing at least though!

On Sunday, CIEE officially ends, but instead of heading home, I am off to the Yunnan Province in Southwest China with a CIEE classmate. After a week, I will come back to Shanghai for two days before traveling to India for two weeks. I will arrive in Portland on July 2^nd.

I am super excited for the upcoming weeks, but I am very sad that this amazing year is drawing to a close. I’ve grown accustomed to my life in Shanghai and know it will be difficult to say goodbye. I have a feeling I’ll be back though! :)

Click here for recent pictures.

Tibet: The Ultimate Question

“Today, we will travel to Shigatse,” our guide explained as we jumped into the van, ready to begin our Tibetan adventure outside of Lhasa. “We will cross three 5,000 meters passes and hopefully arrive in Shigatse in the early evening.”

After driving out of Lhasa, I sensed that we were truly in the middle of nowhere. We drove kilometer after kilometer only surrounded by tall, rugged mountains. Once in awhile, a small cluster of houses would spring from the earth, and we would pass villagers laboring behind horses or yaks tilling the rocky soil. Just as quickly as the village appeared, it would vanish leaving us alone, surrounded by the mountains.

Only one aspect hinted that we were not actually on some far corner of the earth, the road. Our van glided effortlessly over a beautiful, new road. Compared to rural highways in the U.S.—or even the city streets in my hometown!—this highway was amazing!

The smooth ride lulled me to sleep, but suddenly, we screeched to a halt interrupting my dreams. “What’s going on!? Is the road closed?” I asked as I looked out the window to see our guide angrily arguing with two Chinese men blocking the road.

It turns out that on this particular day a “toll” was required to use the road. Hmm…? Although our guide travels this road at least once a week, this toll was new to her. She angrily handed the men a wad of cash, got back in the van, and we continued the drive.

This beautifully paved road was compliments of the Chinese government’s massive investment into the region, but the toll represents one of the greatest problems with Chinese rule: Laws change quickly, without warning. Every aspect of Chinese aid in Tibet can be coupled with some form of discontentment.

The numerous problems caused by Chinese rule all too often overshadow the good China has done for Tibet. In hopes of modernizing Tibet, China has spent enormous sums of money on infrastructure. The investments have resulted in double-digit GDP growth for the last nine years, vastly improving the well being of the Tibetans.

 Since 2001 alone, the Chinese government has invested over 45.4 billion dollars in the Tibetan Autonomous Region. Where does this money go? An obvious answer is that it goes towards building new roads. Many of the roads we traveled had recently been completed to make remote areas more accessible. There was even a road to the Mt. Everest Base Camp! Although the road was gravel, compared to the twenty-day trek to the Mt. Everest Base Camp on the Nepal side, it was luxurious.

In addition, China has constructed railways from major Chinese cities to Lhasa. In just over 48 hours, one can travel from Beijing or Shanghai to Lhasa. Such trains have significantly lowered the price of industrial goods making common appliances, ranging from refrigerators to computers, affordable to Tibetans and have increased the number of tourists to Tibet.

China has also constructed schools. Before Chinese occupation, no public schools existed, but now there are over 4,000. Even nomadic children have the opportunity for education since the government subsidizes on-campus, residential living.

Finally, the general standard of living, even in rural areas, has increased dramatically. Net per capita income has soared, growing by more than 13% each year for the last few years; electricity reaches even rural areas; cell phone service is fabulous; and, healthcare is more accessible.

China is raising the standard of living for those severely impoverished by any measure, and in almost any other circumstance, such improvements in an impoverished area would be praised. However, with the enormous capital investment comes increased regulation, and the results are predictable: Tibetans, like every other civilization, rebel against outside control. Thus, every improvement and ensuing restriction are contentious.

The largest disagreement from recent Chinese infrastructure development, for example, lies in the construction of the railways. With easy access to Tibet, many Chinese have migrated to Tibet hoping to start a better life. Large numbers of these Han Chinese have settled in Lhasa, and now, Lhasa has more resident Han Chinese than ethnic Tibetans.

The influx of Han Chinese threatens the Tibetan culture and heritage, so many Tibetans oppose the immigration. Some Han Chinese, however, are accepted by the local Tibetans as they have lived in Tibet for over twenty years, understand the history, and even support the Tibetans rather than the government. Problems arise when new immigrants, such as our driver, don’t bother to learn the history and customs of the region, disrespect the locals, and even create an atmosphere of bitter ethnic hostility, if not hatred.

The new public schools also cause contention. Students focus on the Chinese, not the Tibetan, language. Religion is forbidden, and students are taught atheism. In place of religion, students are taught to support the motherland. Moreover, they learn history through a Chinese lens. China, like every other controlling government, is using education to further its ends.

Given the pros and cons, should we support “Free Tibet?”

Asking whether Tibet should be freed is the wrong question. China controls Tibet and actively resists any organization or activity that even appears to challenge its sovereignty and authority. Moreover, similar human right violations occur throughout the country. Unless some horrific event turns the world upside down, China will not give Tibet independence.

But, shouldn’t freedom of religion be a basic human right? Shouldn’t Tibetans have a greater say in daily affairs? Shouldn’t Tibetans be able to preserve their culture and customs and not one day in the near future seamlessly blend in with the Han Chinese?

Change is greatly needed, but instead of angering China with “Free Tibet” appeals, we should focus on a reachable goal.

A comprise between the Dalai Lama and China would be a great first step. If the Dalai Lama was allowed back into his home and religion wasn’t as regulated, already Tibet would be in a much better position than today. Finally, if Tibet was given some autonomy, many of the apparent injustices would subside.

What will Tibet look like in the future? It’s impossible to even guess, but one thing is certain: It will depend how China evolves in the coming decades. In 1949, Mao Zedong united a land as large and diverse as Europe and created modern-day China. With fifty-six different minority groups, hundreds of different languages, and countless customs woven into one China, needless to say, Tibetans aren’t the only ones feeling the effects of Han Chinese rule. In addition, the government is plagued with corruption and injustices that repeatedly affect even the Han population—political prisoners, censored Internet, government hacking of emails, tainted milk, poisonous cat food, pirated everything, and controlled religion, just to name a few.

Today, these are not the most important concerns of the Chinese people. As a result of massive government spending on infrastructure—roads, ports, power, communication, transportation, sanitation—they are enjoying ever-increasing prosperity unknown to their fathers—today’s cell phone owning, car driving, Starbucks drinking forty-year-olds enjoy comforts completely unknown to their parents who endured years of hunger and disease and traveled luxuriously by bicycle. No other civilization has risen out of the dust and ashes as rapidly, ever. Understandably, today the people value stability and security more than rights and freedoms.

But, will this last? When the next generation grows accustomed to this way of life, will their values change? Will they continue to tolerate the control and corruption? Will they tolerate the disregard for human life? Or, will they demand increasing rights and freedoms?

 

Tibet: Freedom From Suffering or Freedom To Suffer?

“What’s that noise?” I asked as a deep, soothing, melody danced through the streets of Lhasa. It was our first morning in Tibet, and we stood outside the Potala Palace watching worshipers walk the circuit around the palace.

“There,” pointed our guide. Behind me, a young man in tattered clothing chanted while prostrating himself on the road in worship.

Hands together, raise above head. Pray. Lower hands to knees. Lie down. Pray. Stand up. Hands together, raise above head.  Pray. Step forward. Repeat.

Just watching him repeat the motion twice made me tired. Our guide interrupted my trance, “You know, he’s come here from Qinghai to worship. Walked for six months doing the same motions and will walk another six months back.”

“Six months?! Lying on the road every step of the way…?” I asked in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

   
Raised in a culture where organized religion is often looked down upon, this devotion shocked me. Yes, I was raised in a Christian home and have family and friends who go to church twice a week, but making a year-long pilgrimage… I’ve never witnessed anything like it.

From my outsider’s perspective, I can’t help but conclude that religion is the driving force of this “country.” Religion offers hope, something to live for, and when one is thousands of meters above sea level, surrounded by the tallest mountains in the world with terrain that is unimaginably difficult for farming, people need hope. Religion is an indispensable part of Tibetans’ daily lives, the driving force that gets them out of bed in the morning.

In Tibetan Buddhism, all living creatures are reincarnated based on a system of karma—bad deeds in one life will affect the next life. Humans have reached the highest level of reincarnation, and thus, they are on Earth to obtain enlightenment, the ultimate goal in Tibetan Buddhism. The First Noble Truth maintains that discontentment, unhappiness, and disappointment are universal, and the Second Noble Truth states that desire produces suffering. Therefore, if one frees one’s self from desire, it’s possible to be free of suffering and to liberate the mind. 

Tibetan Buddhism contains four different sects, and since the 17^th century, the Gelug sect has ruled. The Gelug sect has two leaders, the Dalai Lama and the Panchen Lama. The Dalai Lama, the ultimate leader, is the embodiment of the Bodhisattva of Compassion, and the Panchen Lama is the incarnate of the Amitabha Buddha. Upon either’s death, high lamas and the Tibetan Government search for his reincarnate.

Unlike in the U.S., where the First Amendment protects freedom of religion, Tibet’s religious practices are at the discretion of the Chinese government. What happens when you couple a “country” driven by religion with a country that views religion as an obstacle to achieving its goals? Needless to say, you encounter some serious issues…

Problems between Tibet and China were relatively few up until the 20^th century. In 1912, with the decline of the Qing Dynasty, Tibet declared its independence from China. Although other countries did not recognize Tibet, it was safe from China’s rule; however, in 1949, the communists, led by Mao Zedong, gained control of China and wasted no time in reasserting their control of Tibet. By 1950, the People’s Liberation Army invaded parts of Tibet, and in 1951, Tibet signed the “Seventeen Point Agreement” acknowledging China’s rule, never once bringing up the topic of independence.

Change was greatly needed—the ruling Tibetan oligarchy maintained a lavish lifestyle while most were bound to the land in poverty—so at first, the agreement was accepted. Previously, the 13^th Dalai Lama even recognized the need for change and attempted reforms, but to little avail since the ruling oligarchy greatly opposed such changes. Mao and communism brought hope for a new, more prosperous Tibet. 

In 1955, the 14^th Dalai Lama said of Mao, “From the time I left Lhasa, I had looked forward to our meeting. I was overjoyed to see him face to face, and felt he was a dear friend to our people.” His positive outlook continued up until 1959, when, after a dubious dinner invitation, rioting crowds, and mortar shells falling on the Potala Palace, the Dalai Lama fled to India where he began rallying for Tibetan independence.

In 1966, Mao launched the Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution to overthrow the old society, and his bands of student revolutionaries, the Red Guards, made their way to Tibet. In Tibet, the Red Guards wreaked havoc destroying thousands of monasteries and beating and killing monks. The situation in Tibet turned ugly and left a deep scar still felt today. From here, Tibet’s relation with China gradually improved, but numerous injustices remain causing riots like those in March 2008.

Today, China attempts to regulate Tibetan Buddhism causing one of the greatest points of contention with Chinese rule. For example, monasteries are under the government’s jurisdiction. The government limits the number of monks, makes becoming a monk difficult (all monks must obtain a higher education), offers incentives to leave the monastery, and can remove monks from their position.

These issues, however, are minor when compared to the most significant problem: The religious leader, the Dalai Lama, is exiled from his own home. Yes, that was partly his own doing, fleeing to India and then asserting the need for independence, but nonetheless, Tibet’s greatest religious figure is not allowed in his own home.

Coupled with this problem is the question, What happens when the 14^th Dalai Lama dies? China has already demonstrated it will not allow Tibetans to choose their religious leaders. When the 10^th Panchen Lama died in 1989, Tibetans, following the ancient tradition, searched and located his reincarnate. The Chinese Government, however, found its own reincarnate—a pro-China Panchen Lama who could greatly improve the Tibet situation in the future. Unfortunately, neither Panchen Lama resides in Tibet. The Tibetan chosen Panchen Lama remains at an undisclosed location under house arrest, and the Chinese version lives in Beijing.

When the Dalai Lama dies, what will be his fate? A Chinese chosen Dalai Lama seems unlikely to win over the people, but a young child, who could easily be arrested by the Chinese government if he is found in Tibet, also seems improbable to provide religious leadership.

As we drove through the countryside and saw villager after villager toiling in the fields, I could not help but think of their inner turmoil. Today, Tibetan Buddhism flourishes, fostering hope and joy to an unimaginably difficult way of life. But will it always be this way? Will Tibetans continue to look beyond their current hardships to the future for a better, enlightened life free of suffering? Or will China reincarnate Tibet through economic stimulus and end the cycles of suffering through material prosperity? 

With such a contentious outlook to the future, it’s all too easy to join the masses and rally for a free Tibet so that the people can choose their destinies; however, there is more to both sides of the argument, and the answer is surely not that simple.

Stay tuned for more…

Where Time Stopped

“Stop at the monastery!” our guide hollered as I jumped on a bus headed to our campsite 200 meters below the Mt. Everest Base Camp. The bus let me out in front of a small mountain decorated in prayer flags, and near the middle, I could discern a small, cottage-like building.

“This must be the monastery, but how do I get up there?” I asked myself. To my right, a wide gravel path appeared to go up and behind the cottage. Without seeing any better options, I started the arduous, five-minute walk. Although this hike would normally not present a problem, here at 5,000 meters above sea level, small hills are mountains!

After following the path up and around to the backside of the hill, I realized this wasn’t the path leading into the monastery. “No!” I mumbled in between my pants for breath. I turned around and headed back, hoping to discover the correct path.

Directly below the small cottage I spotted a narrow, steep, rocky path. “This can’t be worth it!” I thought, but not wanting to miss something, up I went. After exploring what I thought to be just a one-room abandoned monastery, I headed back down to the campsite. The monastery proved to be anything but impressive.

While walking back, a kind Korean woman informed me that a monk lived in the monastery and could show me ancient meditation caves. “Are caves worth the hike back up?” I wondered. “Oh well. I am going back to the monastery.” Below the hill I sat on a rock and waited for the others to come, hoping that it would be worth the effort. I wasn’t disappointed…

On Saturday, May 1^st, Josh and I landed in Lhasa, the capital of the Tibetan Autonomous Region (TAR).  TAR lies in eastern China in the Himalayas bordering India, Nepal, Bhutan, and Burma. Although this area is officially “Tibet,” more ethnic Tibetans live in the Chinese provinces of Qinghai, Gansu, Sichuan, and Yunnan than in the TAR itself, and many Tibetans inhabit areas stretching from India to Burma.

Upon exiting the airport, I stopped and stared in wonder. We were surrounded by mountains, not mountains like those in the Northwest, but brown, rocky mountains with jagged peaks that reached so high they displaced the deep, magnificent blue sky. This had to be the most beautiful place on Earth.           

We spent Saturday and Sunday exploring Lhasa with the help from our amazing guide—all foreigners visiting Tibet must go through a travel agency to secure numerous special permits. Lhasa is divided into two sections: old town and new town. Old town, where we spent our time, is full of Tibetans, monasteries, and culture, and thanks to the PRC, it has an overwhelming military presence; however, the new town, resembles any other Chinese city free from military presence.

We were able to visit the Potala Palace, the former winter home to the Dalai Lama, the Jokhang Temple, the most holy temple in Tibet, and the Sera Monastery. The highlight was watching monks at the Sera Monastery debate that morning’s scriptures. One monk stood while others sat at his feet. The standing monk asked questions to the sitting monks, which he signaled by clapping his hands, and if the response is wrong, the standing monk sharply yelled, “Tsa!” Witnessing spirited monks come to life was incredible. Below you can find a video of the debates.

On Monday morning, after a night of feeling the effects of altitude sickness, we began our five-day adventure outside of Lhasa. We spent each day driving hours in a van to reach our next location, and for the first time ever, the trip was more about the journey than the destination. Yes, our destinations were important, but stopping to admire beautiful scenery such as Namtso Lake made the journey worthwhile.

Monday evening brought us to Shigatse, the second largest city in the TAR, where we visited the Tashilhunpo Monastery. Since it was six in the evening, the monks had just begun their evening study and worship. As we passed through the large study room, the monks sat on long benches singing and chanting. I’ve never heard anything as beautiful and moving. Though I could understand nothing, I had goose bumps.

The next morning, we headed to Mt. Everest Base Camp, the most anticipated highlight of our tour. After another day of mesmerizing driving, we arrived at our guesthouse, a tent heated by a yak-dung fire. Although we were only 3,500 meters below the peak of the mountain, clouds blocked the view. Many tourists visit Base Camp without ever catching a glimpse because the mountain rarely clears. Would we be fortunate enough to see the mountain?

At about 8 p.m., the guesthouse’s owner came in shouting that the mountain was visible—yes, it was still daylight since all of China is on one time zone! We ran outside and began shooting pictures like crazy. Mt. Everest, with its glaciers and snow, was breathtaking. Here we were, staring at the highest peak on Earth.

The sky gradually became dark, forcing us back into our tent. The next morning, we awoke to a cold, snowy cloud covering the mountain. Was there a mountain somewhere in the clouds? I certainly couldn’t tell! The guide and I hopped in a bus and traveled the three kilometers up to Base Camp. The boys wanted to hike, but since I was already shivering, I gladly accepted the ride.

Upon arrival, the Chinese policemen checked my passport and permit and strictly forbid me to take photos of the police buildings at base camp—there’s more to base camp than what you can see in my photos! Below a little hill, sat the numerous camps of hikers soon to climb Mt. Everest. If I’d ever contemplated climbing Mt. Everest, I adamantly decided against it. I can’t imagine sleeping in those little yellow tents for weeks in the freezing cold, let alone climbing at this altitude! After marveling at the brave souls below, I got in a bus headed to the monastery…

After waiting on my rock below the cottage for what seemed like an eternity, a bus rumbled down the hill and let off the others. “Now where is this monastery!?” I asked in slight frustration. After climbing back up the rocky, non-existent path to the same “abandoned” cottage, we entered a small room with a monk!

We sat down, and abruptly, a woman appeared and began to make sweet tea over the yak-dung fire. As we watched the odd process—there was some type of branch in the spout of the teapot!—the monk began shaking dice and reading a scripture to tell our guide’s fortune. Needless to say, we asked him to read our fortunes as well. Mine was promising, and he even knew that my father helps me a lot and often worries about me!

Suddenly, the pile of blankets lying behind us came to life. “Ah!” shrieked Ben who was unknowingly leaning on a man’s face. This Tibetan had just returned from climbing Mt. Everest, and he’d be returning in just over a week as part of a mountaineering school!

The monk whispered something to our guide causing her to smile in disbelief. This amazing climber was willing to hang our prayer flags that we brought from Lhasa and had blessed by the monk at the top of Mt. Everest. Wow.

As we sat in this small cottage sipping our sweet tea, time literally stopped. We were in a far corner of the world, away from civilization and technology, simply enjoying the moment. Something about the situation left me shivering. The monk, the climber, the cottage, all separated from the rest of the world, exuded a deep, spiritual feeling. Tibet has something special, a religion that is compelling even to an outsider.

As China continues to modernize, homogenize, and control Tibet, religion remains a serious point of contention. Will this mystical religion, which has united the people and fostered hope and joy for centuries, survive? Or, will Tibet abandon its ancient religion and join the Western World in its relentless material pursuit of pleasure?

(Click here for pictures)