I can feel my back vibrating to the beat of horrible dance music, my lungs expand and contract with the painful taste of second hand smoke, my mouth is filled with watery beer, shot glass after shot glass of watery beer, locals screaming "Ganbei!" as they poor you another in an attempt to get them selves drunk as well as the foreigner. A bazar suedo "celebrity status" is the feeling you have as you enter the bar, round after round being purchased for you in an attempt to out drink the foreigner. The funny thing is as you turn the corner and head back to your hostel, you see the same characters that were pushin' beer shots on you for the past hour with their hands against the wall, heads down and vomit flying. Maybe it's a Kunming thing, but god was it fun for a couple of nights, at nothing best a good laugh....
Shangri La
Hearing Bob Dylan while walking down the streets in Shangri La was something for me to smile at, hearing his amazingly unique raspy voice forced me to sit down, relax, and truly take in and enjoy where i am. Simple familiarities can bring you back to peace and comfort in a unfamiliar far away places. Cobble stone streets, old wooden homes, half made with brick, thin pain glass windows that a stiff wind could and does blow right through. the homes are strung with Tibetan prayer flags which blow gently in the wind. the weather is cool in the shade, but amazingly warm and comfortable while in the sun. Out in the distance, looking over the roofs covered in slate and old Chinese shingles i can see golden leaves that have changed into their autumn colors all speckled between pine trees. It is a familiar sight that again brings me right back home. with the sun in my face i close my eyes for a moment and continue to listen to Dylan sing "corrina corrina, girl your on my mind...", with my eyes closed i smell the smoke from a house near buy burning wood, either to heat their stove of simply to warm their home. Sitting in the sun, a light breeze blows down the street sending the flavor of a local coffee shop my way. Yunnan coffee, a bitter sweet chocolate aroma and taste, i couldn't ask for a better afternoon while waiting for my bus to take me out of Shangri La and into Sichuan. I think i'll go get my self a cup of coffee.
Sichuan bus trip
(Load Angry Chinese Voice).... I have no clue what this guy is screaming at me, was what was going through my head as i stepped on to the 12hr sleeper bus from Shangri La to Southern Sichuan. I look around confused and realize the bus driver wants me to take off my shoes. OK, shoes off, comfortable, not so bad, but one step inside the bus and you can smell the repercussions of the "no shoes policy," this was going to be a long bus ride i thought.
Layed down in my seet/bed I was instantly happy to see that i had my own window, for me it was a god send. Every stinky hard boiled egg that was pealed, every whiff of shoe odor, ignited cigarette, or what ever other foul odor blew my way was resulting in my newly enforced "open window policy."
The bus started moving and again i was happy to be on the road heading towards a new destination with new things to see and eat. the sun was setting in a couple of hours and i knew i was going to be getting some spectacular views of the mountains. As the bus barrelled out of town flying down the road at the helm of my crazy communist bus driver, i didn't think anything of it, i was a little pre-occupied with the grassy planes, massive peaks, and the leaves changing color, the sun set, and all those things that make Shangri La a beautiful place to visit.
Starting in the high elevation the natural rout that the bus was forced to take was filled with hair pin turns, narrow passes, roads that were partially washed away by a recent rain storm/mud slide. this is the type of windy road that one would picture a restored vintage car, convertible, top down meandering effortlessly around each bend. Picturesque mountains in the background and the wind in some lucky persons hair.
I never expected to be drinking in these views while laying down flat on my back , bus window wide open to help aid in the semi toxic foot fumes, while timidly peaking out the window as my extremely large, heavy, and not so docile sleeper bus careens down the mountain weaving around blind corners on the wrong side of the road using the oh so familiar "asian horn honk" to warn any lesser vehicles heading up the mountain that a massive bus was heading their way. Stopping was not an option, this was one roller coaster ride that would make any self proclaimed thrill seeking junky a bit week in the knees. As the night set in and the sun went down, Captain Insane-O (bus driver) decided to chill out a bit, which was fantastic, 12hrs later when i arrived at my destination, i was happy to be alive! take away my partially demented bus driver who handled his multi ton stinky shoeless cesspool like it was a brand new Ferrari and the 12hr ride wasn't that bad!
Sakya (tibet)
Leaving Shegatse on a 4 hour landcruiser drive to Sakya was filled with rural views and small towns, towns i really would have loved to walk through and try to understand. Pulling into Sakya there were rolling brown hills with snow covered peaks in the far distance, i remember thinking this is more representative of "real" Tibet. This is what i have been looking for, for the past 6 days, this is the Tibet that has seemed to escape me. Just a simple small rural town.
What was real tibet though? Is it Potala Palace, a Buddhist sanctuary filled with tombs and thrones of past Dalhi Lamas, is it the Monastery in Shigatsa with over 600 practicing monks, is it the dusty wind blown streets of the small towns, or the barren fields that I have been driving through. Maybe it is a bit of all of these elements, but it is not the Tibet that i have come to see.
Arriving in Sakya was yet another restored monastery asking admission charges for westerners and Chinese tourists alike to come in, poke their noses around, and oogle at the culture and customs of a slowly dieing way of life. After leaving the monasteries of Lhasa i decided that this was not the part of Tibet that i have come to see.
As my tourist group made their way to see the monastery, i slowly began to pick my way up the hill to what i imagined was some ruined old building, some stupas, and a good view of the town. when i got to the top , it was just that, but to me it was so much more. As i took my time and began to look around i noticed all i could hear was the gentle sound of the wind and then pure silence, it was amazingly peaceful. the simple old broken down buildings were more than just that. It was the evidence of the old way of life, the old part of Tibet that i was hoping to catch a glimpse of, now broken down and sitting in a heap, but it was evidence of the pre-Chinese Tibetan life. The quite, the tranquility, and the peacefulness of the hill was reflective of Tibetan culture and quite the opposite of the current Chinese way of life. On top of the hill i could look out and see the small city with a simple way and purpose of life, simply prayer, and survival. burning yak dung for heat, living off the land with simple ingredients, feeding their families and some times even setting up restaurants in their own homes.
looking from east to west the rolling hills become mountains and as i sit again at the foot of the massive Himalayas i can begin to see what MY Tibet is.
The Tibet that i had come to see is the simple life a life that is NOT so heavily influenced and effected by the Chinese. A culture that still remains close to what it was year ago, simple rural living, in honest basic homes. Visiting a persons home for breakfast and helping make my own food in their home, in their kitchen was a great experience. Happy people not asking for money, not asking for anything except the peace and tranquility they have had in their mountain village for years. That is "MY Tibet."
Base Camp
The next time you complain about being cold think about collecting yak shit, drying it on the wall of your house, and then using it for fuel to heat your home and stove, OH you also burn it to cook your food. Being at the food of the tallest point on earth is a bit humbling. looking up and seeing the top of the world is a privlage i wont forget. seeing the sun rise, sun set, and the starts light up the peak is a memory that will not fade quickly. driving away and watching the top of the earth disapear behind lesser hills was a sad feeling, but knowing i was there is a honer i will hold on to for quite some time.
Market experience
Pork reigns supreme here in china, not just pork chops, pork shoulder, or pork tenderloin. I'm talking pork belly, trotters, ears, tripe, full on pork heads and snouts. I love the market, for me it is a learning experience every time i step into one. I always think what are the locals eating. China is a country that can't be summed up by one market, one eating experience, it is too vast too different, and to me absolutely wonderful.
Waking up in the morning and walking past the standard breakfast spot and stumbling into the market is the only way for me to go (no not the DOG market in Yangshou which i opted out of going to see), the fresh food, freshly baked or fryed breads, the noodles, the porridge, the vegetables, and of course the pork. Sitting down to fresh dumplings in Kunming, bean curd in Dali, Grilled Rice Flour "burrito" in Lijiang, Grilled fresh Yak meat in Shangri La, the "hell broth" i drank in Chengdu and chili oil and sichuan pepper corns they infuse in everything, the SANDWICHES (well kind of sandwiches) that i stuffed down my throat in the hutongs of Beijing, and Hong Kong, two days of binge eating.
Market life in China for me was all about some seriously good food!
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