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in lhasa text + images: juliet coombe destination: tibet

#20 get lost! ISSUE #07

get in the know! The then 6-year old Panchen Lama was kidnapped by the Communists in 1995 and hasn’t been seen since.

CITY IN THE SKY

Once a major centre of Buddhist culture, philosophical learning and home to the Dalai Lama, the ancient Tibetan city of Lhasa now struggles under the continuing occupation of Chinese forces and the strain of forced cultural assimilation. Amid the thin Himalayan atmosphere Juliet Coombe contemplates the rapid modernisation of a city in the sky.

D

AWN: I JOIN TIBETAN PILGRIMS ON THE kora, a sacred path of worship around the Barkor Bazaar, which surrounds the most holy centre of Tibetan Buddhism, the Jokhang Temple. Located in Lhasa’s town centre, it was built in the 7th century to receive a gold statue of Buddha, a dowry of the Chinese Princess Wengcheng when she arrived in Lhasa to be married with the Tibetan King, Songtsen Gampo.

Today, from earliest dawn to last light, Tibetans arrive to make the circumambulation of the Jokhang to earn religious merit, stopping every so often to light incense in one of five kilns or to prostrate at the front of the Jokhang.

The kora is also a residential area and market, the heart of Lhasa where Tibetans live, meet, socialise and shop. Houses and stores squash between smaller temples, prayer poles and prayer wheels.

7.00am: After finishing the prayer circuit,

I talk to some nuns over a cup of sweet yak milk tea at the Ani Ts Ang Khung nunnery. A nun called Rongdon whispers a mantra as she cuts and rolls hand printed prayers in the nunnery production line for Buddha. Her favourite job is the cutting out, as she doesn’t have to concentrate too hard and can focus on her mantras.

Not many tourists visit the nunnery so Rongdon is quite happy to practice her English when foreigners drop by. She gives me a prayer, which had been wrapped in yellow cloth, rolled and glued into a tiny tablet. I thank her for the unique souvenir, which she explains under normal circumstances would end up inside a Buddha after being blessed by a Lama in the Jokhang Temple.

get in the know! The Panchen Lama, leader of the Yellow-Hat sect, is the 2nd highest incarnation in Tibetan Buddhism.

ISSUE #07 get lost! #21

’’

Dominating both the city and postcard stands as it does, Potala Palace is a must-see in Lhasa. Even so, the one-time home of the exiled Dalai Lama is no spiritual Mecca.

8.10am: I take my hand printed prayers

and with breakfast in mind head to the secondfloor Pentoc restaurant on East Zang Yi Yuan Road in the heart of Old Lhasa, a two-minute walk from the Jokhang Temple & Barkor Bazaar.

Despite being told Tibetan food is poor, I’m pleasantly surprised by the gourmet affair of sweet breads, cakes and fine coffees on offer alongside local favourites like Tsampa porridge or bobis (tortillas with sour cream and vegetables or meat). I’m served in what looks like a reincarnation of a Dali Lama’s quarters, decorated as it is with traditional Tibetan handicrafts and fabrics.

9.30am: Dominating both the city and

postcard stands as it does, Potala Palace is a must-see in Lhasa. Even so, the one-time home of the exiled Dalai Lama is no spiritual Mecca.

Instead of enlightenment I find a dark, cold and eerie building, with closed-circuit cameras watching over every square inch of what was once the centre of yellow hat power. Then there are the uniformed soldiers of China’s PLA patrolling the corridors with suspicion in their eyes. I suppose the hordes of gold, silver, turquoise, silks and religious art are state treasures deserving of such protection, but as material symbols of occupation there are none so poignant as these guarded relics which can no longer be accessed by many Tibetan monks.

11.00am:

After being closely followed by both guards and cameras within the palace, I decide to walk around its imposing exterior. From #22 get lost! ISSUE #07

any viewpoint, Potala perfectly compliments the natural landscape in abidance with all the rules of both Chinese and Tibetan traditions. Waters of the holy Yarlung River are to the fore, mountains protect the rear, and having been constructed upon small hill facing south, the palace is one of the first places to receive the morning sun.

’’

Lunch: Back in the old quarter I discover Tashi

1 on the corner of Beijing Dong Lu and Mentsikhang Lu. A well-known haunt for hungry tourists, the cheesecake and cream cheese vegetable bobi are both as delicious as promised in the guide books.

Midday: Hailing a rickshaw I look back

at the palace’s striking kidney and creamcoloured walls backed by the rugged mountain range and cobalt blue skies.

At its foot and flowing along its stairs is an ocean of pilgrims spinning prayer wheels. I wonder when, if ever, the Dalai Lama in exile will be allowed to return.

The Tibetan pilgrims and dedicated Buddhist monks, with their fervent faith, seem to think it will happen sometime. If not in their current life, then in their next, which seems more likely given the Chinese Government has banned all images of the Dalai Lama under the threat of arrest and imprisonment.

1.15pm:

I climb to the rooftop of Jokhang for another perspective of the Potala palace. The afternoon sun casts a golden glow over a not so pure land and I contemplate the tragedy that since invasion, over 6,000 monasteries have been destroyed. Today, less than forty remain.

2.48pm: I head off Norbalinka, which

means the ‘Jewel Park’. For me it is the most affecting place in all Lhasa. This was once the summer palace of the Dalai Lama (the Potala being the winter time seat of the monastic government). Lawns and flower gardens, fountains, lakes and even a zoo all tell of happier times, and although displaying the get in the know! Tibet is nearly the size of western Europe.

CITY IN THE SKY

effects of obvious neglect, they still speak much of the period when the Dalai Lama and his fellow Tibetans enjoyed peace and religious freedom.

There is a real sense of the Dalai Lama having only stepped out for a moment, but then never returning. It was of course from Norbalinka that the 14th Dalai Lama fled the Chinese invasion of 1949-59, hot-footing it over the Himalayas to India disguised as a Tibetan soldier. The ensuing violent crackdown on the Tibetan community was brutal. To this day the Dalai Lama has not been able to return and Gedhun Choekyi Nyima, now 13 and recognised as the eleventh reincarnation of the Panchen Lama, remains the world’s youngest political prisoner.

A modern 1950s tiled bathroom with western toilet, a wireless, and the dismantled chassis of two cars – gifts carried on the backs of porters to a road-less Lhasa in the 1940’s – are all reminders of a young Dalai Lama adjusting to a modern world. It was a world which descended only too suddenly upon him in the form of China’s invasion.

Dinner:

With such weight on my mind, I take another contemplative walk on the kora, and realise that while the Tibetan’s struggle for self-determination remains, so does their will to remain true to their Buddhist roots. Walking alongside me, they smile broadly and laugh, their strength of spirit shining through as brightly as their hand woven clothing, underneath which and at great risk some still carry a small image of the Dali Lama.

Lifted by such a sense of defiant hope, I venture off to dinner. With its view over Barkhor Square, Makye Amye restaurant is the best place to sit and watch Lhasa enter the crisp night while sipping tea and dining

on a rich but inexpensive mix of Italian, Nepali and Tibetan cuisine.

9.07pm: After dinner I check out Gleckes

Fresh Beer Bar a watering hole located in the west of town which shows that Chinese isn’t the only invading culture in Lhasa. It’s open from 10am until midnight and charges around Y10-12 (AUD 20 cents) a glass of Lhasa beer. The Last Bus is another place for trendy traveller types who enjoy bottled beer in a funky atmosphere.

Look out for the bus poking out from the wall.

10.35pm:

I move onto the Music Kitchen, near the Lhasa Hotel. It plays some of the best western music on offer and it’s where you will see all the young, affluent Chinese teenagers out partying.

Midnight: I end my night by sampling a

Karaoke club, a strange warehouse-like venue where, along with the rather stilted efforts of locals, I sing along to tunes I last heard in the eighties but which have obviously only just made it to Lhasa. And while the Chinese patrons embrace a culture very different to their own as it blares harshly from oversized loudspeakers, I wonder why their government won’t extend the same courtesy to the Tibetans.

Best Entry: By air or bus from within China. Australian visitors to Tibet must obtain a Chinese tourist visa from the Chinese Embassy in Australia. Visas can be obtained for stays of 30, 60 or 90 days, but when applying it’s not a good idea to mention that you’re planning to visit Tibet. Once in China, travellers must apply for a group permit from the Tibet Tourism Bureau of the T.A.R. (Tibet Autonomous Region) government. But don’t despair if you’re travelling alone, a ‘group’ can consist of only one traveller. You can also access Tibet from Kathmandu, Nepal, however the trip is long, arduous, dangerous and often cancelled due to landslides and atrocious weather. Only for the hardy.

Best Trip: Intrepid Travel offers trips throughout Tibet exploring Lhasa where you will visit palaces, temples, monasteries and pilgrims. Visit www.intrepidtravel.com or ph: 1300 360 667 for a free Intrepid brochure.

Best Time: Half of Tibet’s yearly rainfall is usually felt between the months of July and August and there is the possibility of dust storms between May and June. Despite this, Lhasa is known for having the mildest weather in Tibet between the months of May and November and it is recommended to visit during this time.

Best Read: For a comprehensive journey through the rugged mountain landscapes, temples and history of this amazing country, read Tibet (5th Ed) by Bradley Mayhew, Monique Choy, John Bellezza and Tony Wheeler available from all good book stores. For more a political overview, check out Freedom in Exile, the autobiography of the Dalai Lama or In Exile from the Land of Snows: The Definitive Account of the Dalai Lama and Tibet Since the Chinese Conquest by John F. Avedon.On the web, try the Australian Tibet Council at www.atc.org.au

Best Viewing: See the film Tibet: Cry of the Snow Lion, an excellent documentary on the truth behind the tragedy that is the illegal and violent colonisation of Tibet.

A powerfully moving expose. get in the know! The word sadhu in Tibetan means 'chestnut'. In Nepalese, a sadhu is a wandering holy man.

ISSUE #07 get lost! #23

get tested!

text + images: steve davey destination: rajasthan, india

I

F CAMELS ARE THE SHIPS OF THE DESERT then I must be on the Titanic. Rolling, lurching and pitching – not to mention the belching and farting. I wonder how I’m going to put up with this for three days.

I’m longing to see an iceberg made of beer: it’s hot, far too hot and it’s only a couple of hours after breakfast. It will, I’m assured, get much hotter.

I was introduced to my camel this morning when I started this safari, but its name sounded onomatopoeic, an echo of the less salubrious noises it has been making ever since. I was convinced that I was being taught rude words in Hindi. Besides, I’ve already forgotten it, so Titanic it is.

#54 get lost! ISSUE #07

Steve Davey gets lumped on a camel safari in the Thar Desert of Rajasthan in India.

I’m in the great Thar Desert of Rajasthan that stretches all the way to Pakistan. This morning I left the town of Jaisalmer on a three day camel safari with ‘Mr Desert’, a local celebrity and the most Rajasthani looking Rajasthani I have ever met. A great bear of a man with a bushy beard and mischievous pale grey eyes, I have known him for years but never have I taken one of his famed safaris until now.

After just a few hours in the saddle my arse knows why. I ache in places I never knew existed.

I feel like I’ve passed out face-down and a mardi gras party is parading over me. At the beginning of the day I was so into the idea of spending three days on a camel. A couple of days in Jaisalmer

does that to you. You start off a backpacker and finish up an extra in Arabian Nights.

Jaisalmer is one of those fairytale places.

A massive fort set on a hill in the middle of the desert, it’s a warren of tiny alleys steeped in mystery and romance. In places streets are so narrow that the ornate stone balconies of opposing buildings nearly touch, and if you meet one of the many sacred cows that seem to claim the place as their own, it will be you who has to give way.

There is only one way into the fort, up a steep and twisting road that leads through a number of huge gates, complete with spikes set at the right height to stop elephants from pushing them down.

Dating back some 850 years, the fort was built at

get in the know! Jaisalmer is actually falling down. Its foundations are collapsing and it is in need of urgent renovation.

DESERT RIDER

’’

It’s mandatory to feel isolated out here. That is until an Indian Airforce jet screams overhead.

get in the know! A camel’s hump is actually used for storing fat, not water.

’’

ISSUE #07 get lost! #55

get onlocation!

M.Night Shymalan’s movie The Village uncovered the foibles of communities who shun the world in preference for their own alternative, often strange ways of living. But just how many ‘Villages’ exist in real life? Ben Callery visits Brithdir Mawr, an ‘alternative’ village in Wales. text + images: ben callery destination: brithdir mawr, wales

#24 get lost! ISSUE #07

WALES OF A TIME

A

COUPLE OF YEARS AGO A PLANE FLYING over south-west Wales reported a strange flicker of light coming from a small forest below. It was a routine flight for a British planning authority plane, checking up on the state of the Pembrokeshire National Park (PNP) below, but what they found upon investigation was far from routine.

In the patch of forest surrounded by fields scattered with ancient stone circles, a small community of people were living under the trees, seemingly disconnected from the outside world.

The flicker of light was the sun’s reflection off a solar panel – the community’s main energy source.

’’

Up ahead, twin girls wearing matching clothes play in a garden. They walk on all fours with backs arched backwards, so their bellies face the sky.

As an architect with a special interest in sustainable building, I’d researched and seen plenty of ‘green communities’ around the world.

From hippie beachside ti-pee villages to five star eco-retreats; the ones where you trade in the pin-stripes for a sarong and sip organic, fair trade, GM free, skinny cappuccinos - good for the planet but not for the wallet. This seemed different.

This seemed like the real deal.

The so called Tir Ysbrydol community live on a 165 acre patch of land known as Brithdir Mawr.

The property is run as an eco-village encompassing several sustainable living projects.

One of the more interesting is the Tir Ysbrydol (meaning ‘spiritual’) Trust. While others on Brithdir Mawr live organically in original farm buildings, these guys take it a step further, living in mud and wood-built homes in ways that resonate a lot closer with nature than most.

As the community puts it, they are “a very low impact embryonic community dedicated to developing our relationship with the earth and nature spirits, and each other, to fully realise our get in the know! Brithdir Mawr means ‘Great Speckled Land’ in Welsh.

’’

potential as cosmic spiritual beings.” I just had to see for myself how and why they live such an intriguing lifestyle.

Before arriving, I map out a course to hike through the national park. Given the village’s energy efficient, frontier nature, on foot seems the appropriate way to arrive. Unfortunately reactive arthritis contracted after a bout of food poisoning from a shanty village in India makes wearing shoes unbearably painful. Bare feet would undoubtedly give me hippie credibility, but walking the 80km to get there sans shoes is impossible. Reluctantly, I hire a car.

As I cruise through the rolling green hills between quaint towns on the Pembrokeshire coast I wonder what to expect. Will the village be a colourful oasis of friendly activity, like DiCaprio’s first visions in The Beach or a utopia-gone-wrong dictatorship as transpires in Alex Garland’s book? Would it be an old-world insular society rejecting the outside world like Shyamalan’s The Village? With these uncertainties I am quite nervous about how I will be received.

ISSUE #07 get lost! #25

My directions take me to a farmhouse where I park and wander towards an eerily-whizzing windmill in the distance. Up ahead, twin girls wearing matching clothes play in a garden. They walk on all fours with backs arched backwards, so their bellies face the sky. Their mother appears and introduces herself. With a sigh of relief, I instantly relaxed on her greeting. No-one has two heads, noone is sitting on porches in rocking chairs pointing double-barrelled shotguns at me. The girls are not genetic mutations, rather they jump back to their feet as we wander past and prove to be especially bright kids.

The posse of mother and daughters guides me downhill through dense forest. We reach a clearing where the path stops atop a mound, in the centre of which is a small glass dome. To the side, steps lead down revealing a door to an earth-bound house reminiscent of Tolkein’s Hobbit houses built into the hills of The Shire, albeit lacking the Hollywood-budget touch.

It’s one of a series of houses on the property.

Constructed of wood sourced from the site and covered with earth and straw from the ground, they are as close to nature as a building can get without being a cave. Inside, thick earth walls and a domed roof permeate a sedative effect.

One of the most productive farms in the area over many centuries, Brithdir Mawr declined from the 1970's. Its main house slowly became derelict, the farm buildings falling to ruin. The farm was then sold in 1993 and restoration began with the aim of setting up a project in sustainable land use, based around a community of adults and children. The aim was to “use materials only from the land and locality, to be harmonious with the environment; to use the power of wind, water and sun for electricity, and look after the land.”

Beside each house sits a solar panel, the energy source fuelling the communities’ independent existence. Electricity is also provided by the windmill and a small hydro turbine on a creek, the trickle of power enough to feed the communities’ #26 get lost! ISSUE #07

appetite for a few of the more traditional suburban comforts: lights, radio, TV, remote internet connections and even a small recording studio.

Despite initial appearances, the community isn’t as cut off from the outside world as one might expect given their isolation and ethos of sustainable living.

Perhaps this is why the community isn’t as socially splintered as I feared, the most unusual arrangement being a penchant for nudity enjoyed by some of the senior members - a brave choice given Wales’ unflatteringly cold climate.

The Tsyr Tyrol community was started by a group of people wanting to live in harmony with nature.

Since settling in, the World Wildlife Foundation has certified that their ‘ecological footprint’ is only 1.9 hectare per person, a third of the average for Wales and an officially ‘sustainable’ level.

They are however in the midst of a legal battle with the planning authorities over their ‘inappropriate’ use of farm land for housing.

While many are kept busy tending crops and houses, some members also work in the outside community.The population of 12-20 fluctuates over the seasons as residents move between the Welsh location in summer and sister communities in Greece and Spain in winter.

Visitors are encouraged to join the community as volunteers and to help celebrate the changing seasons. As part of the cycle of life the people of Tir Ysbrydol find it “nourishing” to celebrate equinoxes, solstices and cross-quarter days, marking them with simple ceremonies that help them “focus on the greater world around us and affirm our place within that world.”

Tir Ysbrydol is not ‘The Shire’, and it’s definitely not Hollywood; it’s real. It’s not everyone’s cup of Earl Grey but nevertheless is an admirable way of life. Cruising through the rolling green hills of Wales after leaving both the Tsyr Tyrol and Brithdir Mawr communities behind, I’m inspired by the thought that if the plane had not spotted the busy little community below, I wouldn’t have known about them. I can’t help but wonder how many other communities are out there that haven’t been unearthed by a wayward flight path. Villages that are still to be discovered. All you need is a full tank of politically incorrect petrol. Or shoes.

The Brithdir Mawr community can be seen at www.brithdirmawr.com where there is also a link to the Tir Ysbrydol community. Visitors are welcome as are volunteers.

There are many farms similar to Brithdir Mawr around the world offering travellers the opportunity to get involved in WWOOFing – World-Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms. Many offer free food and accommodation in exchange for work, which varies from 4-8 hours a day. www.wwoof.org.

get in the know! Sigourney Weaver had nightmares for two weeks after reading the script for The Village.