Trip to Tibet: [Part Three] Everest

April 29^th:

I woke up feeling like crap. My head hurt and my stomach was aching, but I pushed myself to get ready for our long drive to Shigatse. Shigatse is the second largest city in Tibet after Lhasa. I think I felt so awful that I forgot to hand my key to the hotel. (I really could have sworn I checked out and I could not even find the room key on me afterwards. Oh well.) We drove over seven hours, passing the phenomenally turquois, Yamdrok Lake. We stopped several times to take a look at it. Marcello showed me and Beverly how to skip rocks on it. We learned that the water level of the lake was diminishing due to a hydroelectric dam built by the Chinese government. Still, it is seen as a holy site and some Bhuddists could be spotted circling the lake, which was a 15-day journey!

Mt Nyechen Kangsar Glacier in the 
distance behind Yamdrok Lake.

Nearby we could see the Mt. Nyechen Kangsar Glacier, which looks more like a huge mountain than what I imagined a glacier would look like.

We then drove to Gyantse to see the Kumbum Stupa and the Palkhor Choede Monastery. We walked all the way to the top of the stupa, the largest in Tibet. It got me incredibly light-headed and winded but the view was amazing! Behind the stupa was a long fort wall that once sheltered the British when they conquered the city.

Kumbum Stupa, the largest in Tibet.

Close up of one of the many colorful murals I saw inside the temples. This one is of White Tara, the only female Buddha in Tibetan Buddhism. She stand for healing, longevity, and compassion.

One of the many rows of prayer wheels found outside  every monastery.
You push them to turn clockwise as you pray to reach enlightenment.

At this point, my head was pounding and I was looking forward to dinner. It was Marcello’s birthday so Gyantsen surprised him with a cake and the company treated us to dinner. The food was alright but we had the best honey ginger lemon tea, which we drank throughout the trip. (Ginger helps combat altitude sickness.) We had a great time, went back to our hotel in Shigatse, and finally got some much-needed rest.

April 30^th:

Yaks were everywhere we went.

At breakfast, Beverly and I had tsampa for the first time, which is a staple in the Tibetan diet. It is basically a mixture of salty, butter tea (from “Yak’s” milk), sugar, shredded cheese, and barley or wheat flour. You mix the different ingredients to your own liking, but it is generally eaten as a porridge-like consistency in the morning and dough-like for lunch. The butter tea is another staple in the Tibetan diet, high in calories and moisturizing to the lips, which suits the high altitude. I wouldn’t drink the tea alone but the tsampa is actually pretty good. 

First, we visited Tashi Lhunpo monastery while Gyantsen got our permits for the Everest Base Camp. (You need a specific permit just for that.) We were kind of getting “templed-out” at this point, having visited several monasteries already, but this one was quite special. It was filled with devotees and it was refreshing to break away from swarms of tourists.

Tashi Lhunpo Monastery.

Next, we all mentally and physically prepared for the long ride ahead. It would be another ten hours before we would reach the Everest Base Camp. The ride should not be so long, but the absurd amount of times we have to stop at government checkpoints slowed us down. There is a speed limit imposed on the major highways in Tibet, so drivers are given papers with time stamps. Drivers are allotted a particular amount of time between each post to ensure safe driving speeds. Really, you could drive as fast as you want, but you can’t go to the next checkpoint too early or officials will know you were driving too fast. That meant we had to stop often to kill time before driving to the next checkpoint. Once reaching these checkpoints, the driver has to literally get out of the car and walk into a police building to approve passage. Of course, it would be too competent to install meters that measure road speed and booths by the roadside, like the rest of China. It felt like the government was intentionally trying to make Tibetan travel more inconvenient, rather than safer.

Naturally, we killed a lot of time at bathroom stops. I seriously have a new appreciation for a good toilet. I have seen some gross bathrooms in my day, but I think I saw the worst squatters in my life in Tibet. I’m not exaggerating when I say that I gagged several times walking into a “W.C.” (“wash closet,” as they are called here), refusing to use them. We also killed time eating. One particular restaurant killed a lot of time for us when we had to wait for the chef to show up, only to get an incredibly disappointing meal. Along its walls hung flags for various countries, including a cannabis flag. I wondered where that republic was located on the map. We wouldn’t get another meal until we reached the Everest Base tent city, where we would be staying the night.

We were all exceedingly excited to see Mount Everest, or Chomolongma as it is called in Tibetan. Along the way, villages become increasingly remote. Many of the Tibetan homes had Chinese flags planted atop them. Gyantsen said they were required to by law, but not all homes had them. We also passed locals on some finely-decorated horses with bells and colorful textiles. The bulls and cows were ornamented as well. The women wore their hair typically in two, long braids or one wrapped around their heads, with colorful thread woven into them. Tibetans traditionally do not cut their hair, but most men now wear their hair short. Gyantsen said that this is because the police are highly suspicious of men with long hair, so they are more prone to being stopped and ID-ed. Most women usually wear traditional garbs, while most men wear Western clothing. The babies were heavily swaddled and tied to women’s backs. The children’s cheeks were reddened from the heavy wind and sun; their hair was often a long, matted mess on their heads. In short, these villages were, literally and figuratively, miles away from the commercialized areas of Shigatse and Lhasa. There was an otherworldliness about them and what I loved most were the genuine, warm smiles we got from strangers as we drove by. I had not experienced this in so long, and it made me miss home, terribly.

Renzen, our lovely host

The final stretch of the drive to Everest was rough. For about an hour, we drove on the lengthiest, bumpy ride I have ever experienced in my life. Beverly and I felt like our brains were being rattled. As the sky darkened, we finally reached the tent city and I felt miserable. I felt cold, queasy, tired, and my head was pounding. I wasn't the only one, so I tried to get a handle of my body.We marveled at how comfortable our tent, called the Antelope Hotel, was and how inviting Renzen, who ran the tent, was to each of us. She barely spoke English but we communicated just fine. She poured us tea and put yak manure into the stove in the center to warm us all up. I tried to enjoy being there, but all I could think about was sleeping. Alluring, warm blankets and pillows were stacked up in the corners, calling out my name.  Eventually, while everyone ate the fried rice Renzen cooked, I could only muster a few bites before I walked outside. I came back in having decided I wanted to sleep. Marcello said that Gyantsen was worried because I was pale. I didn’t think I felt that bad but Ngudup and Gyantsen made my bed for me. I expressed how I did not want them to because it made me feel really uncomfortable. Marcello said that I thought that because I feel like I don’t deserve it. He said it again when Renzen came over and literally tucked me in, stuffing the blanket under me. I guess I resisted it at first because I recall Marcello saying again, that I felt I did not deserve it. I was too beat to reflect on it then, but him saying that really resonated with me. He was right, I hate asking for help and I hate when people take care of me.

We are all miserable and exhausted but happy to finally reach our tent!

May 1^st

The crew.

I must have passed out quickly because the next thing I remember is my sleep being twice disturbed by how hot I was. It was Beverly’s morning energy that eventually pulled Marcello and me slowly out of our warm beds and into the cold mountainside. I brushed my teeth outside and walked behind the tent to see what I could not see the night before. There, so far away but closer than ever, was Mount Everest. It was breathtaking and I think witnessing it helped revive me. The sun was still rising as many other people crept out of their tents to enjoy the once in a lifetime view. We all snapped a bunch of photos… doing as tourists do. I was also amazed at how much human poop lay scattered around camp but I did not care. I felt too great to.

Renzen made us breakfast (pancakes!) and then we went on another bumpy ride from the tent city to the Everest Base Camp. 

Adorable children at Rongbuk Monastery.

Driving back, we got off early to visit Rongbuk Monastery, the highest monastery in the world. I did not know it then, but it turned out to be one of the highlights of the trip. We climbed up the steps to see the sole monk said to have lived there, bustling through the windows. We were surprised to see two lovely children and a nun there too. I wondered how anyone could survive there alone, but I guess he was never completely alone. The monastery was built in the 8^th century around a cave used by one of the Lamas for meditation. Marcello had expressed that he wanted to meditate there so we all climbed down, ducking carefully into the cave.

The cave was tight but big enough to fit us all, comfortably. In opposite corners there were a few religious images and statues with money, jewelry, and even fingernail clippings piled up as offerings under them. We all quietly sat down with our legs crossed. Marcello and Beverly smiled at me as they placed their hands on my knees and I placed my hand on top of theirs. Then almost instinctively, we all sunk into our own minds for five, maybe ten minutes. (I’ll never know exactly.) I closed my eyes and prayed too, unable to control tearing up. I prayed for my grandparents and I asked for health and happiness, as always, for everyone I loved. This would surprise my closest friends. For the past few years I have fought believing in Allah because I wondered how there could be an all-powerful God when I have been through so much heartbreak? The past few months however, have brought me closer to believing in a power that is greater than myself. Allah is the best explanation I have for how my family and I have been able to survive so many difficulties. As I’m writing this, I’m crying again because I love and miss my family, especially my mom, so much.

View of Everest from Rongbuk Monastery.
That cat was sitting on the walls of the monastery's roofless toilet.

We walked out of the cave and back to the tent city, past the fairly recently Chinese-built Rongbuk Monastery, which Gyantsen called the “fake” one. We selected stones as souvenirs and discussed how special of an experience that simple, tiny place was. Looking back, leaving that cave I felt like a huge weight was lifted from my shoulders. Everything felt right at the moment. We then packed up and said bye to Renzen, who had made us food for the road. Along the way, we staved off boredom by talking and playing a celebrity name game. Beverly, who is actually brilliant, had probably some of the most ridiculous answers including, I kid you not, “urethra franklin.” She struggled to remember her first name and we laughed ourselves to fits over it. We also said bye to Everest and made it back to Shigatse for dinnertime. As amazing as the day was, I could not wait to see a real toilet and shower.

May 2^nd :

We would finally head back to Lhasa after breakfast. I got to ride shotgun as we drove along the Friendship Highway that runs between China and Nepal. Part of the highway runs alongside the Brahmaputra River. I loved the fact that it connects to Bangladesh and I wondered if that was as close I would get to setting foot in the country. 

People pray, circling around Johkag Temple on Bahkor Street.

When we got back to Lhasa, we had lunch and then went our separate ways. We all planned to meet back for dinner at our favorite restaurant there, New Mandela. I met with Gyantsen who took me to see the Johkang Temple, which is the holiest temple in all of Tibet. Worshipers can be spotted prostrating outside its walls and circling around the building. During the morning, it is open to tourists and in the evening, it is open only to Buddhists. 

A man prostrates barefoot and smiling all the way to Jahkong Temple.
His forehead had a huge stab from laying his head on the floor.

A woman prays outside Johkang Temple.

View from Johkang Temple.

My tour guide took me around and answered my questions as I struggled to distinguish each of the Buddhas and Lamas I learned about all week. Afterwards, I asked where the Muslim Quarter was and Gyantsen kindly dropped me there. I wandered around for a bit, winding in and out of shops until I felt too uncomfortable with the stares I was getting (even though I was totally dressed modestly!).

The Muslim Quarter in Lhasa.

Busy, Bahkor Street.

I walked back to the hotel, wrote out postcards for friends and family, and then headed back to New Mandela for dinner. I knew the winding streets around it would confuse me, so I saved the address to my googlemaps app only to find myself half an hour late for dinner and lost. The address was completely wrong but still, I did not want to ask for help. I eventually asked two cops for help in Chinese and they both laughed. That did not relieve my already great anxiety about asking for help. Luckily, Marcello spotted me just when I lost all hope and I felt completely embarrassed. I usually do not mind getting lost, but honestly this was a pretty traumatic experience. I think this is why what Marcello said to me about not feeling like I deserve help now sticks with me. Only this time, not only was I not asking for help when I needed it, but I really inconvenienced others because I didn’t. (This was a huge learning experiencing about my poor communication skills. Friends, how do you deal with me sometimes? I don't know, but I love you for it.)

Regardless, dinner was amazing and we bonded over talking about what we would take from this trip and laughed over how I ordered nan pizza and Marcello ordered fries.  Beverly said this demonstrated how we both were ready to get back to the US. Our journey in Tibet had come to a close and with less than two months left, my whole trip to China was almost over. We embraced and exchanged numbers, realizing that our flights left at different times in the morning. It felt weird saying bye and I still feel incredibly lucky to have spent time with these two amazing people.

Annoying Chinese tourist dressed in traditional-styled Tibetan clothing .

May 3^rd:

I felt dynamic the next morning and reenergized to get back. I had just enough time to grab souvenirs and finish writing over 20 post cards before Gyantsen and Ngudup picked me up. I was the last to be dropped off before the next tour group arrived. Gyantsen said it was unusual how nice we all were and how well we all got along. I thanked him for taking care of me this whole journey and he made me promise to come back when Tibet was free. Again, it felt weird saying bye. I felt like Gyantsen was my desi brother from another mother by this point. As I was walking away, Gyantsen yelled back, “Sidra, we will meet again!” It was like a stupid movie and I loved it. I boarded my flight and got back feeling like Tibet bequeathed me so many gifts. It was just what I needed and more than I expected.

Upon first seeing Everest, we all asked "that's Everest?" We mistook it's humility for inadequacy. I completely appreciate that mountain for that lesson in hindsight 

Trip to Tibet: [Part Two] Potala Palace

Me and Jo.

April 27^th:

I woke up the next morning from the ringing of our hotel wake up call. We had to run down to catch the shuttle back to the airport.

I lost my appetite when the hotel provided us a gross, processed breakfast to go, but I had a great time chatting up with Jo, Tracy, and Leon on the bus. They were all so sweet and funny and I felt like it was a good sign that I met them. As the plane took forever to lift off, we all reminded each other to drink a bunch of water. None of us could afford to get altitude sickness and one way to stave it off is to stay hydrated. The air is “thinner” in Tibet so the slightest movement can make you out of breath and dizzy, as the brain adjusts to getting less oxygen to the brain. Nicknamed the "rooftop of the world," Tibet is the highest region on Earth.

Ready for liftoff!

I was a bit worried I would get sick, but I was reassured when at 12 PM, we finally landed in Lhasa. It was daytime so the view from my window seat was, to borrow a word from my friend Helen, “surreal.” 

Truly unbelievable still.

I grabbed my bag and hurled on my winter coat. (Guangzhou was 30 degrees warmer than Tibet at the time.) I exchanged contact information with my new friends and we parted ways. As soon as I walked out of the airport, I was on the lookout for a sign with my name, but was stopped by some taxi drivers. They asked if I needed a ride and when I said “no,” they said I was beautiful and asked if I could take a picture with them. I did and then finally saw my driver and tour guide. My driver’s name was Ngudup, who did not speak English, and my tour guide’s name was Gyantsen (pronounced “Gelsin”). Both had distinctively Tibetan features (wide cheekbones and beautiful, brown skin). We drove across the mountain range of massive mounds that jutted from the earth. I had never seen anything like it and told Gyantsen how my eyes could not believe what they were seeing.

We drove into Old Lhasa where we stopped at a Tibetan, whole-in-the-wall restaurant and I had some chai (“chang la mo” in Tibetan) and buckwheat noodles. It totally hit the spot. As we ate, I asked Gyantsen dozens of questions. He shared with me how when he was 9, his parents paid Nepalis to take him across the Chinese border. He eventually went on to live in India for 13 years and only came back a few years ago when the Dalai Lama asked Tibetans to return to their homeland. He also said he loved his freedoms in India but missed his family. Upon his return, the Chinese government took away his passport. He reminded me to be mindful of what I say in public because of the heavy police presence, but feel free to ask him questions otherwise.

We drove to my hotel where I would be spending two nights, passing the massive, Patola Palace along the way. I had 10 minutes to drop my things off to the hotel before going back down and meeting the two other people I would be traveling with. In the elevator, I ran into Marcello, who was from Chicago. We waited for Beverly who was from L.A. but currently living in Shanghai. I generally have a good judge of character and I could tell immediately, that we would all get along. I could not have imagined two more perfect people to have traveled with. Although both are just in their early 30s, they seem so much wiser beyond their years. It would turn out to be a major plus to travel with such positive-minded individuals.

Drepung Monastery

Me looking a hot mess at Drepung Monastery.

I had already missed the first site of the day but Gyantsen said I would see it later when we had time. We first went to Drepung Monastery. Walking up the steps to the monastery that spread across the mountains, I got incredibly winded. I was 3,000 meters above sea level so I reminded myself to take it easy. I have to admit that I knew little about Buddhism aside from what I learned in high school and what I saw when I went to the Taxila ruins in Pakistan a few years ago. Marcello and Beverly were quite knowledgeable from all of their past travels but Gyantsen informed us of the different symbols, murals, statues, stupas, and photos that filled the monastery. Like many Tibetan monasteries, it only housed a fraction of the monks it used to in the past and seemed nearly empty until tourists flocked in. I would learn tons abut Tibetan Buddhism from the several monasteries we visited along our trip. I find it to be a fascinating religion.

We then went back to the Explore Tibet office to take care of payments. We oddly had such a great time hanging out with the company, which seemed like a big family. I played ping pong and had this sweet goji berry soup that their cook informed us was good for women. He did not speak English so one of the other crew members had to translate. He offered Marcello another soup that he said was good for men and needed no translator to say it was “good for sperm.” We asked them many questions and Marcello was curious about the Tibetan flag, but they informed us that they could not talk about that. Throughout our trip, we would learn just how mindful we had to be with such sensitive subjects.

At this point my head was throbbing. We were dropped off at our hotel where Gyantsen gave me the oxygen machine in case my headache worsened. I told him I was familiar with them because my grandmother used one. Due to my flight delay, I lost the one extra day I had to adjust to the altitude. I was tired but was excited to get to know my new travel mates over dinner. We walked to Dunya Restaurant (yes, dunya as in “world”), which was co-owned by Tibetans and a Dutch expat family. Marcello described how he came to Tibet on a self-described “Eat. Pray. Love.” journey. I listened closely as he listed all that he learned on his eight months of traveling throughout Mexico, where he lived with his partner, and East Asia for the past four months. He said to not take things personally and always seek the source of other people’s actions. He also learned to never apologize and how to let go of things, especially the physical things he realized he did not really need. Beverly had done tons of traveling herself and encouraged me to travel more too. I only got a small taste of travel in China. I walked back to the hotel promising myself I would take their advice and do more.

April 28^th:

Before bed, I used the oxygen machine for 5 minutes but the headache quickly came back. I went to sleep and woke up the next morning relieved that I felt a hundred percent better. Our first stop was one of the highlights of any trip to Lhasa, Potala Palace. It sits on a small mountain, towering over the center of the city. It was the residency of the current Dalai Lama before he went into exile in India. It had the luck of not being destroyed after Chinese forces took over the city and is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site. It is truly massive and currently undergoing renovations, so parts of it are closed off to the public. 

Circling around the monastery were a mass of Tibetan pilgrims, with their prayer beads and prayer wheels in hand.  That only gives a false impression of the inside that is filled with hoards of Chinese tourists, that push and shove and even Beverly (who is generally calm) had to tell some people off. The palace was heavily guarded as well. One of the guards even stopped to tell Gyansten that my tour group looked “different than the others.” Marcello’s family is originally from Mexico and Beverly’s family is originally from Hong Kong, so I am sure we looked pretty odd. A few Tibetan pilgrims pushed through the crowds trying to make their rounds. This was odd as Gyantsen said that most Tibetans feel sorrow for what has happened there. I don’t think I would feel too happy either if one of Islam’s holiest sites was treated like Cinderalla’s castle. A new building next to the palace was filled with what were said to be gifts from various Chinese dynasties to Tibetan kings. The writings on the wall outlined how Tibetan-Chinese relations have always been strong throughout history. I do not doubt this, but it did not feel right. I have visited museums in Xi’an and even one in Shunde, and every one of them gave me that similar staged, phony feeling. China is an amazing country with a long, intriguing history but I don’t like the feeling of nationalist propaganda being shoved down my throat cus all of China’s history ain’t pretty. Across the street, the Chinese government installed a memorial to commemorate the 30^th anniversary of when they “liberated” Tibet. Marcello, called this “a slap in the face.”

A hike up the palace.

This place is massive! Its walls are thick and high, basically built like fort.

View from Potala Palace.

I couldn't ignore the photo op.

Outside Potala Palace.

We had dinner at the New Mandala Restaurant on the busy, Bahkor Street. The food was great and I highly recommend it if you are looking for Indian or Nepali food. As we ate, we could see the Chinese guards installed on rooftops who monitored the crowds with their binoculars. I wondered what they were trained to look for. After lunch, we discovered someone let the air out of one of our tires and broke the hood ornament. We were parked within a Chinese police compound and Gyantsen said this was unexpected but not uncommon. 

Yummy momos!

We then went to Sera Monastery absorbing more knowledge of Tibetan Buddhism, which rests at the center of traditional Tibetan life. Unfortunately Sera Monastery is basically a staged monastery. Some of the monks are real but many of them are paid to take part in the debates and chanting the monastery is known for. Looking at the rest of Lhasa, you could clearly see how Tibetan life has changed a lot in the past few years alone. In 2007, the Chinese government completed a railway line into Lhasa, an amazing engineering feat just in time for the Olympic games. Since then, many Han Chinese have moved in and commercialized the city. The flags outside most of their stores demonstrate their patriotism. Tourism has become a major source of income for the region too.

Within Sera Monastery. 

Monks chanting at Sera Monastery.

Many Chinese proclaim that the Chinese brought infrastructure into the underdeveloped region and freed Tibet from backwardness and feudalism in 1950. They explain how wealthy kings ruled over the land with harsh impunity and the rest of Tibetans lived in abject poverty. It is hard to fight how they see Tibetans as one of the many ethnic groups within diverse China. Many Westerners are not aware of this, but Tibetans were also a part of the forces that moved into the city to “liberate” their land and were even involved in the violent destruction of Buddhist landmarks. The 14^th Dalai Lama escaped from Tibet, fearing for his life. Many Westerners support the radical Tibetan activists today who argue for complete Tibetan autonomy. These radicals, of course, are not representative of the opinions of all Tibetans today. Still, many see the Chinese as having “invaded” their territory and resent the heavy-handed Chinese rule. The Dalai Lama, however, argues for a “middle way” where Tibetan autonomy is actually recognized, but within the state of China. Many Chinese people, however, consider him a trouble maker. His photos are not even permitted within the region.

Before my trip my student, Ivy, asked me why many Western people wanted Tibet to break away from China and why they all like the Dalai Lama. I told her not to generalize Western opinion like that because I did not place the Dalai Lama on this ultra-holy, god-like pedestal. I did not tell her though, how I still think the Dalai Lama had a lot of spiritual wisdom to offer and that I agreed with him on a middle approach only because Tibetan freedom now seems so improbable. This does not mean I support the Chinese government’s oppressive rule and handling of advocates for Tibetan freedom, nor the propaganda a lot of my students have been fed. My class kept telling me to be careful because Tibet is so dangerous. I joked with them saying the Chinese government tells them it is dangerous. They responded by telling me that the American government tells me it is safe. Honestly, they aren’t wrong as Han Chinese people have been brutally killed and businesses burned down by Tibetan advocates. Aside from that, Tibet is pretty safe.

That night I had trouble sleeping, a symptom of altitude sickness, and knew it would mean trouble for the next day.