Moving

I am on the move away from most communications infrastructure now… most likely no more updates until early July.  Best wishes everyone!

Playing Mirror

Lhasa supports a small community of contemporary painters, and I had
the opportunity to visit a few of them and see one of the galleries at
which they display their work. The artists are remarkably diverse:
Chinese, Tibetan, Chinese-Tibetan mix, atheist, Buddhist, Muslim, men
and women. Each artist’s work is surprisingly unique in style,
distinctive in technique, color, subject matter. Yet a singular theme
runs through it all, that of aggressive change, the coming of
modernity in a high, traditional culture, and the rough merging of
Chinese and Tibetan lives on the high Plateau.
 
Several of the artists were trained as thangka painters, the
traditional depictions of Buddhist figures and iconography — sacred
art. Their free-form work is often inspired by this age old style,
though quite a departure from it. One artist, Gade, is known for his
iconographic style of showing contemporary culture, in an old style:
antiqued canvases, earthy tones, thangka-like composition, but Mickey
Mouse as a Buddha-figure, the Incredible Hulk as protector deity. His
vision for his work is to be a mirror of the vast changes of the
culture here.
 
Other artists depart completely from the traditional Tibetan religious
artistic style. Abstract, impressionistic, surrealistic styles
abound, though the work remains distinctively Tibetan. The subjects
are nomads, pilgrims, iconographic places such as the Potala Palace or
momentous events such as the coming of the Chinese railroad.
 
There is no Shangri-La depicted in these paintings. They are edgy,
they make the viewer uncomfortable, needing to think about and process
the emotion, motivation, and subjects. Folk subjects clash with
modern objects, expressing the speed and pain of this quickly changing
society.
 
This is no underground group of beatnik poets; many are savvy, famous,
wealthy artists. Their work, though provocative, is often
well-received around Tibet, mainland China, and the rest of the world.
 Some receive criticism for riffing on traditional, sacred styles.
Some are not well-understood, or are young in their careers. Still, I
see their work as a valuable personal catharsis and important
representation of this world, that is changing so quickly that most
people can’t even keep abreast of all that is new. Some of it is
displayed at asianart.com. I highly recommend checking it out.

Drak Yerpa

Drak Yerpa is a cave retreat complex, near to Lhasa and famous for its
place in the history of Buddhism’s takeover as the dominant religion
of Tibet. In the 7th Century King Tsongsten Gampo came there to do
divinations to determine the appropriate location for the Jokhang
(which is situated in the middle of the old city of Lhasa).
Guru Rinpoche is said to have meditated there, and left a number of
‘rangjung’ formations, supposedly self-formed rock formations that
look like his footprints, handprints, etc.
 
Drak Yerpa was, of course, an important religious site even before the
Buddhist revolution. It had to have been — why else would it have
been of such interest to the Buddhists? Its location was also prime
for a religious retreat: high caves, and ample room for many people,
yet quite close to a fertile valley. Thus it would have been
relatively easy to support meditators.
 
As of a few years ago, a new road leads up to Drak Yerpa from the main
cut-off. It snakes upwards in sweeping switchbacks, through what had
been an ancient sod meadow but is now gravel and retaining walls. A
dusty parking lot, a few chow mein shops, and a ticket office await at
the top. If one can outrun the ticket collector, one can leave that
money in the temples that pepper the hillside, and with the monks and
nuns that maintain them. Most of the temples were built around cave
sanctuaries: superstructures in front hold assembly halls, a shrine or
two, and room for devotional practice. In the back, a passageway
might lead to a cave, with shrines, butter lamps, and someone to tell
the story of the place.
 
Drak Yerpa isn’t really a tourist stop yet, but one monk estimated it
sees about 1000 people each day — mostly daytrippers from Lhasa,
well-to-do Tibetans who come to light some incense, say a prayer, and
have a picnic on a nearby hill. There are no practitioners there
anymore — just enough monastics to keep the shrines open but not
enough to practice and meditate on the teachings. For some of them it
is too busy for extended meditation. Most visitors only come to pay
respects; the ability to perform ceremonies or give teachings is not
there. The young visitors, especially, exude a sense of connection to
their religion but it is clear they haven’t had the benefit of growing
up steeped deeply in its philosophical teachings — beyond that which
seeps into the rich everyday culture. Still, the connection is
powerful and it is inspiring to see young people with their friends,
multi-generational families, and solo pilgrims make a day out of a
visit to this wonderful place.

Quick stop in Nepal

I’d been hearing stories all spring about the situation in Nepal.  Minimal electrical production was commanding load shedding of 18 hours  or more each day, water shortages, social unrest, government failure  to form a coalition, continued failure to integrate the Maoist and royal armies, or to create a new constitution.

Flying to Kathmandu on Monday, the plane crossed the rural and mountainous areas of Nepal, which look almost empty from the high vantage point of the plane. Then, dropping into the Kathmandu valley, it is all of a sudden back-to-back residential and business areas. The whole valley is full. 2.5 million people now live here, compared to a fraction a few years before.

The weather was blessedly cooler than the Indian plains, and in many ways Kathmandu felt the way it has been described by foreigners for decades: hospitable, friendly, full of culture and history, interesting places, art and artisans.

In some ways, it is still all those things. But there is an overall deterioration of morale and infrastructure too — even since what I noticed last fall. Petty money-making schemes are on the rise, from the oldest cheap-taxi-ride-if-you-go-to-the-hotel-where-I-get-commission scam, which was rare in Nepal and is now blatant at the airport, to a  new service tax at restaurants, which is compounded with other taxes to bring the rate to 24% for every meal.

The biggest challenge right now is uncertainty. Day-to-day, things may run as normal. But one never knows when that will change. A is a universal truth, I suppose.

[Having started this post a few days ago but never finishing it, I am now posting from Lhasa -- arrived here last night after a grueling 2-day overland trip here.]

Reflection

This is a time of year when, like it or not, most of us look back at the past year and do a little reflection, maybe make a top 10 list or a few resolutions.  It’s been a big year for me, and yet I’m deliberately ending it where I started it, at Karme Choling in northern Vermont.  Over the past year I’ve…

left Boston (again), left a perfectly good job, spent around 6 weeks on retreat and 8 weeks overseas, trained to be a yoga teacher, tried to prioritize my life more wisely, and tried to be a better friend, daughter, sister and community member, and truer to myself.  I had the sense that 2008 would be a big year.  2009 portends to be even more interesting.

While so much of the New Year hype is, well, hype, I think it is valuable to sit back and think about what to leave in the previous year and what to cultivate in the new. This is an exercise I will be doing (and probably should be doing daily!) and would recommend highly.

Happy New Year, everyone!

“Today’s Tibet” cards

When I was in Kathmandu I printed a set of my favorite photos from Tibet and made them into beautiful greeting cards, with handmade Nepali paper and envelopes.  The stories behind these photos tell of my journey and local lives, each unique and changing rapidly with Tibet’s political, economic and cultural environment.

I’m selling these cards on my web site to raise money for future work in the Himalayan region.  See more information here.  With each card comes a description and/or stories of the photo.

new blocking

China is again upping the ante with western news:
http://www.washingtonpost.com/

Sub-continent to Continental

Monday night I was happily holed up in the mountains, attempting to learn Tibetan letters. Tuesday night I was on a bus, winding my way down the mountain from Dharamsala into the murky air of Delhi. Wednesday night I was on a plane, flying over central Asia, northern Europe and eastern Canada. I’m now at JFK, almost back to Boston.

JFK decorators have an evil sense of humor. On disembarking planes in the international arrival area, passengers walk a series of long hallways. Bleary-eyed and sleep-deprived. And what do they put along the way? Holograms. Many holograms. As if I wasn’t having trouble seeing clearly already!

Power Sharing

After the oppressiveness of life in Tibet, Nepal has felt like a breath of fresh air – colors bright, people smiling and speaking their minds (more or less). Still, there are many problems here and the new government, by all accounts, does not (and may never have) a handle on them.

A lack of electricity is one of the most pressing and obvious issues in Kathmandu. At 10 AM today the power will go out. Perhaps for a few hours, perhaps for longer – I’ve lost track. The grid is so overloaded in the Kathmandu valley that each sector loses power for around 6 hours per day. A friend who owns a small gear-sewing business tells us that this is expected to increase to about 10 hours per day in a few months. He has resurrected a few old-style treadle machines just so he can keep his workers busy during the outages. It’s either that or work only sporadically throughout the day and night as power is available, or buy a generator and pay the added expense of that.

The economic impact is immeasurable – Internet cafes must either generate electricity or close until the power comes on. Shops can stay open, but the products they sell often require electricity. Most cooking is done with gas, but restaurants and homes need light by which to feed hungry eaters. Water may use electricity to pump through buildings. When the power goes out in the evening, everyone leaves their work post-haste – making traffic snarl and slow to a crawl.

To make matters worse, even if a power plant project began development now, it would not be ready for 5 years and by then the growth in demand would have outstripped even the new capacity. Solar panels would be an attractive choice, but the price is well out of most Nepali’s range, for even the most cost-effective Chinese set-up. Let’s hope a solution is found soon, for the good of all the people of the valley.

On a brighter note, it’s Thanksgiving in America. Here’s a little poem:

“A big chicken”, Turkey is to those here
who have never seen such a bird so dear
While I sip dal and rice
You have apple pie, so nice
Your belts buckle no longer, I fear

And on a sadder note, the situation in Bombay is near to many minds here. May it be resolved peacefully and soon.

Northland

Nam Tso is a lake north of Lhasa, 50 miles wide, 1000 feet deep, and at about 15,500 feet in elevation. It is an ancient place, full of spirituality and mystique. I spent the past week camping on the south and north shores and visiting some of the ancient holy rock formations and sites. One of the goals was to survey some temple ruins and cave paintings — my travel partner has undertaken to document as many sites as possible across Northern Tibet, and though he has visited these places before, he wanted to have a more thorough look around.

The south side of Nam Tso was covered in an early-winter snow, drifted a few feet deep in places. It doesn’t melt up there, but instead blows around and slowly sublimates. It conforms to the wind the same way that sand does. Nomads were rushing to get their herds to grassland, but we saw remains of some animals that didn’t make it.

We headed first to Tashi Do, which is a sacred headland out the south side of the lake. From afar, it looks like an island. The headland itself has been built up by the Chinese — a paved road runs right into the sacred areas and in the summer dozens of tour buses day trip there — but this time of year, and especially this year, the area was pretty deserted. There is a cluster of temporary buildings (though no permanent buildings have been allowed there yet), and a small population that lives in them to support the tourist trade. Big Tibetan dogs live there too, and were endlessly curious about our tents, which we pitched near a mani wall and the site of a footprint of Rangjung Dorje, the third Karmapa.

A few longtime residents of Tashi Do live comfortably in a set of caves on the western side. The cave homes are quite cozy, decorated the same as Tibetan stone houses with a clever wood stove in the middle for heat and cooking and couches and various shelving and niches around. Visiting them, we learn about the conditions for our road ahead and about the increasing government focus and management of the area. It is not so easy for residents and traditional pilgrims there, as it becomes more and more a tour stop-off. Entry fees can be steep, but so far little of the revenue has gone towards preservation or local support.

In the raging wind we turned on a shortwave radio and heard the news of Barack Obama’s dramatic victory. In such a remote and difficult corner of the world, I marvel at the strength of democracy back home.

We left Tashi Do after a day of stormy weather which blew the snow around and closed the pass back towards Lhasa. Fighting our way through drifted snow we made our way around the lake to the north side, to some beautiful headlands and previously unvisited-by-westerners caves. The caves on these headlands were home to many early communities of religious practitioners, both Bon-po and
Buddhist, though the legends co-opt them for themselves. Today they are either deserted or used by nomads for their herds, and many have cave paintings, beautiful and esoteric.

Life is not easy in the north. It is at least 10 degrees colder than Lhasa, remote, with little infrastructure — a road maybe, but no health services and the only schools are in the county seats run by the Chinese. Most people are semi-nomadic, taking herds of yak, sheep, and pashmina goat to seasonal pastures. I watch daughter nurse grandaughter while grandmother looks on. Invited into people’s homes, we are inevitably offered an array of food, whatever they have. Always butter tea served in small bowls, and maybe tsampa (roasted barley flour which each person mixes with butter, dried cheese whey and sugar), delicious homemade yogurt, thukpa (noodle soup with meat), or meat, cabbage and rice. This is pretty much the diet — high energy, but not much green.

Opportunity for Tibetans is low, especially as a minority race without some of the advantages the Chinese have here. We saw many (espeically younger people) on pilgrimage on their way to Lhasa. They travel on the highway that runs north from the city to Nag Chu and Amdo, prostrating the whole way. There isn’t much shoulder so they are often right in the road with the big trucks and buses. We estimated they could travel between 3 and 5 miles each day. Their resolve and devotion is awe-inspiring.

Back in Lhasa, the feeling is tense. Just a few days here, and then back out to the countryside.