The scenery is rugged and barren surrounded by snowy mountains. We have landed in Lhasa, Tibet - "the roof of the world". As foreigners, we are required to obtain a Tibet travel permit according to the law of the People's Republic of China. To do so, we are expected to book our Tibet tour with a local, licensed travel agency, and as tourists we cannot travel independently in Tibet. Upon arrival, we are welcomed by our female guide (yeee!) and get a white sash to bless us with happiness - a good beginning. At 3,650 meters (11,975 feet) high, I feel nearer to the eternal blue heaven than anywhere on earth. Being the stubborn person I am, I refused the advice I got from well meaning people suggesting I avoid coming here due to my history with high elevation sickness. With medication taken a day before ascending from sea level to this height, I experience some headache and some dizziness but no serious side effects yet. In our hotel room, there is a big oxygen tank - just in case. On our ride into Lhasa our guide tells us her husband has five fathers, as women in Eastern Tibet, where he comes from, can marry as many husbands as they want. What a concept!
Perched on the iconic Red Hill, the Potala palace's sprawling structure is stationed some 12,000 feet above sea level, making it the highest palace in the world. The 1,300-year-old structure was originally built as a gesture of love by a Tibetan king for his marriage to the Chinese Princess of the Tang Dynasty. The fifth Dalai Lama rebuilt this palace during the 17th century and it became the winter home of Dalai Lamas from 1649 until 1959. When Chinese Communists annexed Tibet in 1959, the current Dalai Lama was forced into exile following a failed uprising against Chinese rule. Today, the palace is eerily empty with only thirty five caretaker monks. The building is divided into the white palace, the administrative area and the red palace, the religious section. A fresh coat of paint made up of milk, honey, and sugar is applied every autumn. Every step of the thirteen floors, three hundred sixty five steps, is a challenge - the air is so thin. I find myself amongst flocks of Tibetan pilgrims, wearing ethnic clothes, slowly zigzagging the ramps on our way up. I take it easy and I stop every few minutes at various locations to breathe and to look at the white walls that seem to be leaning towards the red center. The palace remains a sacred shrine for thousands of Tibetan Buddhists as they consider it the core symbol of Tibetan Buddhism.
Finally I find myself at the top, literally, sitting on top of the world. Inside, awe-inspiring mazes of corridors and more stairs lead through countless rooms with richly decorated statues, tombs, colorful murals depicting Buddhist stories, customs and legends of ancient Tibet. One cannot really get a sense of the Potala's palace's majestic presence until standing before it. Like many others before me, I walk on top of the old stones, brushing against the wooden red doors, feeling the thousands of years of human's presence that have passed here, touching delicately and devotedly, finding solace, comfort and connection amongst this walls. The sounds of chanting and the clanking of hand-held prayer wheels blend with the spiritual ambiance. And then you notice the smell. The pungent smell of yak butter both in burning lamps and many yak butter statues. The pilgrims bring buckets full of yak butter to light candles for worshiping their spiritual leaders. It is an incredible experience for me to see the fervor with which they express their devotion - with their litanies - with small donations - with food. Through a tunnel-like passage, we enter a more sacred space in the Red Palace and are dazzled by the halls containing lavishly decorated burial stupas which hold mummified bodies of the previous Dalai Lamas overlaid with gold, diamonds, pearls, and many other precious gems. And while the towering structures are staggering, stunning, wonderful, we are allowed only 45 minutes inside and no photography allowed - sigh.
"Tashi Delek": May all good things come to you, we are greeted by our guides. There is a fresh new layer of snow on top of the Himalayas this morning, which makes the air crisp and dry. We are on our way to the Jokhang Temple, the spiritual heart of Tibet. For most Tibetans, it is the most sacred and important temple in all of Tibet, as this houses the statue from the time when Buddha lived, giving it extreme religious value. According to indigenous legend, Buddhism was received into Tibet’s shamanistic warring culture when four relics miraculously fell from the sky onto the roof of Yumbulagang royal palace in the fifth century. In reality, Buddhism spread into Tibet only in the 7th century. A continual stream of pilgrims come from all corners of Tibet to visit the temple. They travel by foot or whatever means of transportation they can afford. Many carry prayer wheels, spinning them constantly. Beautiful women, dressed in traditional, colorful clothes with striking make up are moving in a clockwise direction down the streets around the Jokhang - I can't get my eyes off of them. The most devout pilgrims cover the last several kilometers to the temple, prostrating themselves. They raise their hands in a simple gesture, gently touching their forehead, mouth and chest before lying prostrate, face down on the stony ground, their hands protected by gloves of wood, clacking against the stone street while their murmured mantras humming through the silence - what a spiritual experience!
At the foot of the Wuze Hill the Sera Monastery is one of the three great University monasteries in Tibet. The name Sera means "wild roses" and the monastery was called that because it is surrounded by wild roses. It is there that the monks "famous daily debates" take place. We are rushing there for the start of the two o'clock debates. The debates are an important part of studying Buddhism. Monks of the Gelug order believe that along with studying the texts, it is important to practice what they’ve learned. They gather in the courtyard to ask each other questions about religious topics to ensure that they understand it well. They change partners, gather for discussions, joke and enjoy the process. Once the monk asks a question and claps his hands, it is time to reply. It is a fiery performance.
As we say our goodbyes to the Tibetan Plateau ringed by the snowcapped peaks of the world's highest mountains and to the wonderful people that occupy that land - I feel sad. I start to comprehend the social fabric of this place, the currents that flow underneath - what is allowed to say publicly and what is forbidden. Tibet, a place of peace and harmony is ruled by the Chinese military that run through the country. Check points. Metal detectors. Our tourist car has a surveillance camera built in above the dashboard. Tibetans citizens can't obtain a passport to leave the country. The authorities are tracking residents to forestall any potential unrest. The contrast between the silent land of frozen lakes and glaciers, and the inner quiet cry of the people who want to be liberated from the regime is stark. "Promise you will send us a photo of the ocean" I hear their voices as we wave our farewell on our way to airport.
Photography by Jason McBride and Irit Raz-McBride.