Reeling from the day before, I woke up exited once again for what the day would have in store for us. On the schedule for today was the Sera Monastery and Drak Yerpa – an ancient monastery built into the side of a mountain in caves. I wouldn’t think it possible to outdo the day before… but it happened!
We loaded up with snacks and water for the road. Arriving at Sera, I knew immediately that it would be a completely different experience from Jokhang and Potala. As you entered, you walked up a tree-lined walkway that went on seemingly forever. It was flanked with monk dormitories and exuded an aura of introspection, meditation and learning. There was a feeling of sadness that loomed in the air as well. Sera used to be a place where the monks studied and debated in the open courtyard. Due to recent events, however, this practice has been suspended for the time being. The number of monks in the monastery has also dramatically dropped in the last years.
I was in heaven in Sera – My inner book geek was ecstatic! We entered a room and it was floor to ceiling bookshelves that housed religious scriptures. Sitting in the corner was a man that was using printing blocks to create copies of the scriptures. The sun was shining into the room, imbuing the room with an otherworldly feeling – AGAIN. We each bought printings to take home. Exploring the Monastery was as amazing as the day before. So many treasures, so much to take in.
We went into the temple part and yet again, it was another moving experience. We once again, said hello to many in line, shaking hands with the children, saying Tashi deleck. We bought Kada - the white scarf -for an offering. We wound our way though the rooms and got to the horse head buddha that was looked after by two monks accepting and blessing the kadas people were giving as offerings. In return for my offering, the monk blessed me and then I was adorned with a old Kada that had been blessed and housed in the temple for some time. I was honoured and speechless.
us with our blessed Kada
Nestled amongst the mountains, 4,500 metres above sea level, lies a quiet and austere Monastery called Drak Yerpa. The drive up to Drak Yerpa was a bit hairy to say the least. We zigged and zagged up the mountainside on an impossibly small dirt road, with no guardrails. Ethan, who does not enjoy heights so much, put on his iPod and tuned us all out… his own personal meditation before reaching the summit I suppose. The vistas were remarkable. What seemed like millions of prayer flags blanketed the side of the mountain – bathing it in colour.
We were immediately met by a group of Tibetans selling prayer flags. All of us bought one set of prayer flags, put all of our names on it in Tibetan, dated it and offered it to the heavens for good fortune and long life. Wanting to cover all of my bases, I bought one myself and put my name on it. Once local then took them and strung them up on the mountain peaks yelling to us as he was doing it to show us where our flags went.
My name in Tibetan
Drak Yerpa was like nothing I had experienced. It was hallowed and quiet – no tourists to be seen. The cliffs were dotted with little temples built into their walls, each one guarded by a Tibetan monk. We wound our way up the mountainside, exploring all of the temples, meeting the local monks. Here you were allowed to take pictures and I am glad to share them with you. Once again, the smell of yak butter candles permiated the air. I met a monk in one temple that let me take a photo of him and with him. He laughed and smiled when I showed him the picture on my camera. His smile warmed my soul.
yak butter candles
We took the ascent slowly, none of us wanting to forget a single detail, wanting to remember every moment. Tse Tan had given me a piece of hard yak cheese that I was to suck on. It was to combat the altitude. It tasted different, but it worked. The Tibetan Buckley’ so to speak. Once we reached the top, having visited all of the tiny temples, we lost David. Where had David Daldwin, programme manager extraordinaire gone? We soon found him. With a goat. He had made a new fuzzy friend. The goat delighted in the through scratching behind his ears that David was administering. David communed with the goat (who, we discovered was a pet of the monks), as we all took photos.
I thought the monastery was amazing… that was just the beginning. The day was glorious and many local Tibetans were taking advantage. Several people were picnicking on the mountainside. We walked over into the groupings of people just for a wander, but we were soon being offered food and candy from a group of family and friends that were out to enjoy the day. At first we politely refused, but they would have none of it! Soon, we found ourselves sitting amongst them sharing food, trying to communicate with one another laughing and soaking up the sun.
I sat down beside an older gentleman, bedecked in a jaunty fedora and sunglasses. Little did I know what I was in for. He soon found out that I was from Janada (Canada). It was over for me. As it turned out, he has a friend living in Canada. For the rest of the afternoon, I was forced to take shot after shot of baijio (Chinese fire water) and I was forced to smoke cigarette after cigarette! Now all of you know I am anti smoking, but it was one of my cultural exceptions. There was no denying this man. He was literally throwing cigarettes at me on the mountaintop while plying me with fire water. Let me tell you, I have never had a buzz faster than when downing shots and smoking at almost 5,000 metres! We learned a new word that day: SHAPTA! Cheers. We were all yelling it out to the amusement of our local friends who were laughing and clapping uproariously. Such a great time, and authentic and heartwarming experience…with such hardship, it is amazing how happy, warm and kind these people are. They do not have much to give, but they give it willingly.
Wanting a reprieve from the smoking and drinking, Ethan, David and I decided the best thing to do (and not the smartest) was to climb to the top of the mountain to look at the scenery and yaks. I am surprised that we came back unharmed and did not fall off the mountain – (I remind you of the lack of guardrails in Tibet). Before we reached the top, we ran into a group with a yak adorned in traditional garb. After may shots and cigarettes, David and Ethan thought it best to pay 5 yuan to have their photo taken atop said yak.
We reached the summit of our climb (against Tse Tan’s wishes, who thought us too inebriated to go on a hike). It was gorgeous. Then we went back to our new friends. We passed out Olympics pins to everyone and they were appreciative. It was great to be able to offer them something in return for their hospitality. Pictures were taken, more shaptas were said. They also offered us homemade yak butter tea. We had been warned by our guidebook about this experience. It is a must in Tibet, but everyone said it was terrible. It is a concoction of melted yak butter, hot water, tea leaves and salt. It is supposedly great to get you through the winters and acts as a natural chapstick. The first gulp was a little much, but I have to say I got used to it. It is like drinking hot, salty, liquid butter… with a somewhat odd taste. Perhaps it was our surroundings and our amazing day and experience, but I was honoured to be drinking my yak butter tea at the top of the world.
yak butter tea
On the way down, we all blessed ourselves at a holy spring. The cold water, helped to sober me up to be honest and combat the altitude.
We were all quiet on the ride home, just reflecting on our day. It was back to the hotel for a nap and then back to Barkhor for a great dinner with friends and food – all for under 4$. If someone told me right then that I had to go home. It would have all been worth it….. a thousand times over.
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