Cultural Exceptions: Tashi Delek Lhasa, Tibet!

Tashi Deleck - Hello Tibet!
Monday, September 1, 2008 - Lhasa, Tibet

The following morning David, Ethan and I woke up, showered and met Mirjam and Fran for breakfast. It is nice having our breakfast included in our hotel rate. We were all still abuzz, recounting our adventures from the night before and wondering what our day would have in store for us. The sun was shining, the air was crisp and we were eager to set out.

Tse Tan picked us up promptly at 9:00 am and our first stop was the Jokhang Temple, located in the heart of old Lhasa. The temple was built over 1000 years ago, and many Tibetans still flock to it each morning with their yak butter, barley grains or monetary notes to make offerings to Buddha for longevity and good fortune. The group of us stepped out of our van, and I am not sure that any of us were prepared for what we were met with, or what we were about to experience.

Jokhang Temple

Immediately, we were struck with the smell of burning juniper leaves, yak butter and barley. A strange combination, but I associate that smell with a Tibetan home for some reason (even though I have never visited one). It is both comforting and pure - the smoke, intoxicating. Now, as most of you know, I am not a fan of the incense at home. But here, for some reason, I love it. I guess it is akin to those large pink houses in Miami… there, they work; put one in Toronto and you would think the person was coo coo for coco puffs. I love waking up in the morning and smelling burning incense on the wind. It is like a Tibetan campfire. That, coupled with the weather here, really reminds me of home in the fall during camping season. Perhaps that is why I am loving Tibet so much.

Two large urn like furnaces flank the main entrance into Johang which is adorned with a golden statue of a unicorn and deer between a wheel. These urns are where the locals make their offerings. A large pole covered in prayer flags also stands beside one of the urns at the front of the Temple. Tibetan prayer flags are brightly coloured pieces of cloth (red=fire, blue=space, green=water, yellow=earth, white=the clouds/wind – representing the five sacred elements). Upon the pieces of cloth are printed prayers, offerings to the gods. Those that put up prayer flags ask for a long and healthy life as well as blessings. They stay up until they disintegrate and the prayers are carried up to the heavens on the wind. For more information, visit www.prayerflags.com.

The temple at 9:30am is full of activity. A large number of Buddhists were walking in circles, clockwise around the temple as a form of meditation and prayer. Many were holding prayer beads or prayer wheels, which they also turn clockwise. They can walk around the temple as many times as they wish (some even hundreds), but it is always done in an odd number. As they would pass the prayer flags, many would stop in a moment of prayer, touching their foreheads to the flags.

We all stood there for a moment, drinking it all in as Tse Tan, a practicing Buddhist, told us all about the history, what was happening around us, as well as personal stories relating to the temple. We then walked to the front entrance of the temple (which was a little hidden to the side). As we walked around the corner, once again, I was not totally prepared for what I was about to encounter. Many locals were prostrating themselves in front of the temple in prayer and meditation. Tse Tan had told us that this is what people did each morning, but to see it in action was humbling. Chanting echoed in my ears as the people would stand, salute the temple then go down own their knees, lower themselves fully to the ground on their stomachs and then come back up to standing position. I was moved by people actually living their religion, embodying what they believed. That does not happen very often in North America. After watching the prostrations for a few minutes, it was time to enter the temple proper. No photos were allowed inside the temple (or any temples for that matter), so you will have to rely on my descriptions.

I have to admit that my conscience was being tested and I was feeling pangs of guilt as we entered the Temple. As Westerners, all eyes were on us as we passed everyone in line waiting to enter the temple. Several “hellos” were being called out and the younger Tibetans giggled and laughed while we responded “Tashi Delek” – or greetings. I asked Tse Tan if it was OK that we were bypassing the line and if they would get mad. He responded no, because they were waiting to make offerings and pray to Buddha whereas we were just here to visit the temple and learn about the history. Seeing as Tse Tan was a practicing Buddhist and he was the one who said it was fine I felt a little better, but pangs of guilt did stay with me as I went through the temple. Were we just tourists trying to appropriate another culture, capitalizing on an opportunity? I just hope that they did not think that I was disrespectful in any way and truly interested in learning about their culture. It is something that I have had to deal with my entire time here in Tibet.

A modest exterior belies the grandeur that is housed within Jokhang’s walls. A warm, dim glow greeted us, created by the burning of Yak butter candles. The brilliant colours of the hand painted murals, door jams, and statues of Buddha guilded in gold were staggering. The history of this place amazed me. Tse Tan had a story about everything. It was crazy. The history, the aura, the sheer splendor housed in the temple. As we went through the temple we watched and learned as people made their offerings to different buddhas depending on what they needed blessings for. Some prostrated, some touched their foreheads to relics, some simply donated a few yuan. Room after room was filled with treasures and stories the next more amazing that the one that preceded it. The sounds of deep guttural chanting, the smells of yak butter candles, the sight of the countless treasures… it was so much to process. We walked through the temple and then went up to the roof to a gorgeous courtyard. All of old Lhasa was at our feet. The sun was shining an the vista impressive. We just let the scene wash over us, took lots of photos, breathed in the fresh air and enjoyed the moment. Then it was back for some final touring of the Temple.

The gang on the rooftop courtyard - Jokhang, temple

roof adornments

We emerged from the warm glow of the temple into the bright sunshine. Tse Tan gave us one hour to explore the local market on Barkhor street. It was fun to explore as the wares were different than those in China and it was also much cheaper (if you can even believe it). The five of us wandered, laughed and joked with each other while we haggled with the local vendors. Our group was gelling amazingly well, and to be honest, I was quite surprised as we all have very different personalities.

We wound our way through Barkhor street and ended up at the Lhasa Kitchen for lunch. The five of us sat down with Tse Tan our guide and Tashi our driver for a sumptuous meal. We ordered samplings of many different things on the menu and shared it all family style. I love it that this is what we do. We had yak momos (like a dumpling), vegetable momos, masala, shabaleb (fried bread with yak meat – tastes similar to a samosa), rice, and countless other dishes, all delicious. Once again, it was almost a joke when the bill came. For five of us it was about $3.50 each. Amazing.

We needed the fuel because it was off to the Potala Palace. Started in the 7th Century as two rooms, until the 17th century when the 5th Dalai Lama expanded it to its present grandeur of over 1000 rooms and 13 floors. It is divided into two different sections, the white section (or political section), housing all administrative and social buildings and the red section (or religious section), housing all of the private rooms of the respective Dalai Lamas and monks – meditation rooms, sleeping chambers etc.

Potala Palace

The Gang before the climb

We were all a little suspect as to how our bodies would react to attempting to climb the 263 steps at the palace… we think there were more. Guide books had warned us that the Potala Palace should not be attempted on the first couple of days you arrive in Tibet due to your body attempting to acclimate to the altitude. Well, it was our first full day and we were going to give it a go.

Here is a helpful hint: When attempting to climb the numerous steps of the Potala, do not walk beside David. When we started the climb, as soon as his foot hit the first step, he said “one” and then proceeded to count all the way up. By step 13 or so, I had to politely tell him that, if he continued, I may have to push him over the side of the palace wall. He stopped (counting out loud anyway). I have to say, the climb, due to the altitude, was much more rigorous than climbing the great wall.

We finally reached the top and once again, it was sensory overload. The Palace was amazing. To think these relics have stood for centuries. I am not going into detail because it was just crazy. Too much to explain. The palace housed many tombs of past dalai lamas encrusted with jewels, gold and other precious metals. The large assembly hall was equally impressive. The architecture was also quite ingenious, as the Tibetan craftsmen put beautiful skylights in all over the temple to provide light. Sunshine streamed through the palace, creating quite a transcendental feeling in the air.

The Gang reaches the top... the wall was holding us up!

Following Potala, we were all pretty wiped, both physically and emotionally, so it was back to the hotel for a quick nap before heading out to dinner. We all went back to Barkhor street, also joined by Amy, my boss from Beijing who had arrived in Tibet a few days prior. We gorged once again, and once again, each paid maybe $4 for dinner – alcohol included (we had passed our alcohol abstinence period finally!).

After a dinner full of laughs, great conversation and good times, we walked down barkhor to catch a cab home. On the way, we came across a little shop that sold Tibetan flavoured yoghurt. The ladies in the shop took a liking to all of us, so we all got yoghurt. Fran got orange, Mirjam and David got apple, and I got taro (it was purple and I was feeling adventurous). Ethan tried mine – and did not like it at all, so he made his own flavour – chocolate strawberry. He was finally happy. The girls who owned the shop had never tried it, so they did and gave it the thumbs up!