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