[desertblues]

(excerpts from my travel journal for western China; please excuse bad grammar and others......bad wifi. And enough of politics; that's another section altogether, but...cultural scientist eh.... )

(11-04 Xiáhè)
After a Tibetan breakfast with yak yoghurt, unsaltened bread, an omelette and green tea I'm all set to go. A bit cold 2 C, but the sun is out, though the wind is fierce on the bare mountains.
On to the monastery: soft flute music, banging on copper bowls and the heavy humming/praying of monks is what I hear from afar. I see some monks with their special yellow hat (Geluka). And I watch many Tibetan pilgrims walk the Kora, the 3 kilometer pilgrims path around and through the monastery: clockwise, touching and making the large prayer wheels spin; some prostrate themselves. They wear a long dark wool lined coat, with for some reason one sleeve not worn( tucked away) and a rope or red cloth knotted around it. Some have small children on their back and often they carry yellow/ brown prayer beads or a small prayer wheel.

First sight is the Barkhang, the monastery's traditional printing press. My actual ticket is a print on a cloth. I admire the printing library; a huge beautiful decorated room with shelves full of wooden printing blocks ( over 20,000) for holy and secular texts. In the annexe, monks roll small strips of bright yellow/orange cloth and bind them tightly with yellow thread for the altars. Others print on different colored cloths with blocks, by hand. All sit on the floor.

Next I line up for the (Chinese) tour of the other buildings, by a monk. The buddhists in the group pray and give money. Many of the chapel halls are illuminated by yak butter lamps, which I now recognize as the same distinct smell of my hotel room. Pilgrims hurry past us, for the different altars inside are also part of the Kora. I visit the Institute of Medicine, the Serkung or Golen Temple, the golden roofed Main Prayer Hall and a museum of relics.

And all is richly decorated with vivid colors; especially red and gold. Beautiful carved and painted woodwork everywhere. The roofs of the important buildings are gold covered. The Tibetan stupa's are a dazzling white. At the divers altars stand gold like statues of Buddha and Boddhisattva's (the enlightened ones that prefered to stay on this earth to help mankind). The yak butter lamps illuminate only a part of the interior and, with the shuffling of the dark red robed monks, the shine of gold, the chanting and the rush of pilgrims seeking spiritual fulfilment........it is a mysterious and ageless place to be.

In the afternoon I explore Xiáhè, which is but one long road. I make a tour of the shops as well, of course..... When walking from the monastery up this road I see that the Tibetan part looks poor, with dirty shops, poorly dressed and there are beggars, also children. Monks do their shopping here as well; dark red cloth, trinkets, food and they play a kind of Chinese chess on the pavement: large round pieces with Chinese charakters( at least 12) on a board divided in two, with vert/ hor/ diag lines. The monks are of importance for the economics of this community. There's a relaxed atmosphere, friendly and helpful.

And dinner nearby: boiled patato and greens, a beer. As in other meals there's a chopped red pepper or two in every dish. This must surely keep all travellers germs at bay.
There are not many restaurants in this region, so I sometimes feel like an orphan; knocking on doors for some food. And eating my slippery greens with chopsticks while being under scrutiny of all the rest of the folks......I am an interesting sight as a foreigner. I don't mind and am used to it now, as well to eating in vest, jack and scarf. Well, Xiáhè is at 3000 metres.

I must have photographed about every other monk of this monastery by now. And I had vowed to myself to be very selective in photographing. Well.......digital eh....2x16 GB sdhc.....small camera 14,1 pixels, 20x zoom.....lense 24 mm wide........I'm good.

Back in the hotel.....an intruder in paradise....a Large Tibetan crockroach in the bathroom.( shiver, shrug). Early night; being a traveller is hard work! I sleep like a log every night.

(12-04 Xiáhè)
Nice breakfast, no electricity, no wifi, but a glorious sunny and nippy day.
The Hall of Hayagriva or Hall of the Horsehead Buddha is the first today. It was destroyed in the 70ies, but reopened some 7 years ago. There is a fierce 12 meter effigy of Hayagriva, a Boddhisattva on the wall, with 6 arms and three faces. As this holy place is on the Kora, pilgrims hurry-sometimes run- by; walking with a stick, or wheezing and often as not a cloth around the head.

Then the Mandsjuri temple which I can't enter today. Monks in the courtyard clean the small copper bowls for the yak butter. Conifer twigs burn in the stoves. I buy a string of brow prayer beads in front of the temple.
The Gong tang pagoda I see next, is build in 1805 in the tang style (7th century). It is 5 storeys high and its green slanted roofs are gold-bordered. On all edges are statues of golden fire spewing dragons and on the top the golden figures for sun, moon and stars. Around the building are copper prayer wheels, held in constant motion by the pilgrims. There are many copper Buddha's in the thousand- Buddha hall and around, also murals in vivid colors. Beautiful all.

Copper cymbals accompagny the dance practice of the monks I see next. ( teenager)monks tie their legs together ( ca.20 cm apart) and practise twirling. Others try to synchronize their dance movements by them.

Walking to the cental square, monks with yak butter-statues hurry past. There is a gathering in front of a temple. People are dressed 'to the nines'; especially the around 4 years old who wear bright colored silk finery. When the long copper horns sound, all go inside. Must be an initiation of some kind.

To see a bit more of the Tibetan community I go up the mountain. Very rural all; there is electricity, but water has to be drawn from a pump. And dusty, incredibly dirty. Nicely carved wooden doors, low arches and a wide stone gutter at each side of the street. Long haired, long twisted horned goats seek food and grey speckled pigs ramble past. They all have a different colored cloth around the neck.

Hurrah, electricity for the village by mid- afternoon. By that time I was ready to do something foolish for a cup of nescafé.

Dinner will be in the room: dried noodles and a banana.
Tomorrow a long day: by bus back to Lánzhōu and then the night train to Xī'ān.

In my cup: nescafé finally....