Toshen's cold finally cleared up enough for us to to leave Lhasa and go on our first trek. Prior to coming to Tibet, we had no clear idea where we wanted to go, figuring we'd hear through the traveller's grapevine where a) the good places were b) what areas were easy to get to, meaning the roads were intact and c) there weren't undo difficulties in travelling without a permit for the region we were visiting, in case we were caught by any PSB in a restricted area or one requiring a permit. Luckily, Toshen had met a German Tibetologist, fluent in at least day-to-day speech and quite familiar with travel in Tibet. He had a lot of experience, having done various trips throughout the region in the previous 8 years he had been coming to Tibet. Based on his recommendations, we chose to visit Drigun Til Monastery and Terdrun Nunnery - half a day's travel from Lhasa. It also included a hot spring, always a significant interest for Toshen.
Going back to permits for a minute... In order to travel in Tibet, you are required to have a permit in most areas. However, no individual permits are issued in Lhasa by the PSB (People's Security Bureau) - you can only get them in Shigatse, but that's 2 days away by car/bus. Your only other official option is to hire a landcruiser (with extremely expensive permits), driver, and guide - a significant expense. Instead, we opted to do the technically illegal method of public transport (though no one cares much, at least this close to Lhasa). We barely made the bus - it was pulling out as we arrived. (Note: the Lonely Planet is not always correct - their listed departure time of 10 am was 1/2 hour late)! We climbed on top of everyone else and their luggage, squatted in the aisle and sat on our bags, as there were no seats available. This was going to be fun. Of course, the bus was somewhat slow - we arrived in Medrogongka, the stopping point, about 4 hours later. From here, we were supposed to hitch or walk to Drigun Qu, where the trek begins.
There was a friendly monk from Drigun Til, our destination, who told us he'd help us get there. He didn't speak much English, so we weren't too sure what getting there entailed, but a friendly face interested in helping us was better than having no idea. We hunkered down to wait next to the empty bus, entertaining many of those also waiting by letting them browse through the guidebook. Toshen at some point disappeared right at the moment everyone started climbing back on the bus (40 minutes later). The monk grabbed half our luggage (all of it Toshen's) and climbed on the bus as I became somewhat worried - either I jump on board with Toshen's things and leave Toshen, or stay put and half our belongings end up somewhere else. But he managed to make it at the very last moment, a typical habit of his.
The bus lumbered up through a road that turned quite rugged (similar to the drive into Tibet). It was no longer paved, and sometimes washed out as it parallelled a river most of the way up. The bus would occasionally lurch alarmingly sideways. Everyone would hold their breath or make concerned sounds. You have to realize that the roads are not so safe here - when the bus tilts a bit too far, passengers, old and young alike, will scramble nimbly out the windows until they feel the danger has passed, in which case, they'll climb back in and over everything until they get back to their seats. On top of the bus was strapped furniture and goods everyone was bringing back from Lhasa - at every lurch, the roof would buckle a little - not the safest transport, I suppose. We managed to arrive safe at Drigun Qu, 9 km up the road, after stopping in a few smaller Tibetan villages to offload passengers and rooftop parcels, including some very sizeable furniture.
We decided to head out. The day was beautiful - very sunny and warm, a nice breeze, and a vacant road into the hills in front of us. I especially wanted to get going. One of the villagers, after inquiring where we were headed, was adament that we should wait for the mota (describing all things automobile) tomorrow to take us there. No, we decided - we'd walk. Lack of a common language made it difficult to understand what he was trying to say: it was too far to get there the rest of the day that was left. It turns out, it was 35 km to the monastery, somewhat uphill, and I kept getting very fatigued; I wasn't yet acclimatised to this altitude, approx. 4200 m. I kept getting dizzy and light-headed and was very very tired. All this only after 2 hours of walking.
We decided to camp under a copse of trees - the first trees we'd seen. There was also a lovely stream rushing by. An ideal spot. There didn't seem to be any villages - they were all on the opposite side of the big river and a deep gorge separated the two sides. We had sleeping bags, enamel cups, 1 package each of ramen, energy bars, and a supply of clean water nearby - plenty! We thought we were set. Building a fire turned out to be much more of an ordeal than we realized - the air isn't as rich as at sea level, so it took 1 hour to manage one cup of hot (not boiling) water for the ramen. The first 90 pages of the book I was reading got ripped out to assist in the firebuilding. Without it I think we would have had ice cold ramen for dinner. We supplimented the meal with some greens we picked for a "salad" - Toshen was familiar with some of the plants, which are the same as many in Europe (being on the same land mass). They were quite tasty, which surprised me.
It was cold, but we had enough clothes to keep us warm. The sky was still beautiful, with the a large moon and many stars. Then, at around 1 am, it started to rain. Quick! Get up! Run to the tree, huddle underneath, cram the sleeping bag around you, cover up with the poncho, keep everything underneath as much as possible to keep from getting wet...once your sleeping bag gets wet, there's no way you'll be warm until it dries. And do all this fogged with sleep. We sat there huddled for about 1 1/2 hours in the rain and strong wind before it stopped. Luckily it did stop - I wasn't looking forward to sitting unmoving in a small huddled bundle until daylight. The ground wasn't too wet, so we layed back down on top of the ponchos and slept 'til morning. It wasn't that bad, and we were both in the mood for "adventure" (which usually means some degree of cold and discomfort)! We got up and were soon on our way.
Of course, shortly thereafter we began passing villages on this side of the river, some big, some small. We were still glad we had slept outside - it was quite idyllic, despite the rain, and the villages are smokey and full of loud and curious people. The kids will run screaming "Hello! Thank you!" at you all through town and quite a ways past it, holding out their hands, asking for money, pens, or food. It's like being at a circus with yourself as the main attraction. Tibetans have a very innocent curiosity about them. When first driving through Tibet, and our vehicle stopped, any sheep or yak herders nearby would walk all the way down the mountain they were currently on in order to come and stare at us, either inside the car or outside. While shopping around the Barkhor vendor stalls in Lhasa, the Tibetans walking the circuit would often stop at your shoulder, look over or around you at what you were buying, and stay there until you'd complete the deal, just to see what you were doing. After getting used to it, it became a very useful trait. If the locals did it, so could I. In America, you wouldn't think of seeing someone interesting, walking closely up to them and staring at what they were doing, without introducing yourself or trying to communicate. But in Tibet, that worked just fine - it allowed me to see what was going on without being rude or obnoxious. But back to the trek.
I felt much more acclimatized this morning, so the walk wasn't nearly as difficult as it had been the previous day. We passed lots of women on their way to cut fodder, or to harvest barley (or whatever grain that was ready for cutting). After a few hours, we managed to hitch a ride with a bunch of Chinese in a brand new minibus - they appeared to be government officials. The river and any water works seemed of particular interest to them. They drove us the rest of the way into the town of Drigun Til, a village in the middle of a valley, before letting us out to walk the rest of the way... straight up the mountain.
Monasteries, as are most religious places of worship the world over, are built on the highest ground. In this case, on a steep mountainside, starting 2/3 of the way up, with buildings continuing up to the top. I wasn't quite ready for this, so I huffed and puffed my way slowly up, resting rather frequently. We managed to get there late afternoon.
Our accomodations were the monastery's guesthouse: 1 large room with beds lining the walls, and windows in the front. Two heavy blankets and solid pillows were provided - the typical lodging in any part of Tibet, it turns out.
I was quite tired and a bit wrung out, so I elected to stay there, take a nap, and let our moist clothing and sleeping bags dry in the broiling hot sun. Toshen chose to walk the kora around the mountain, a several hour walk, which brought him around the sky burial site. This monastery is renowned for its sky burials, something I didn't learn until the next morning, when we left. There was a ceremony that night and the next morning, but the significance of what they were doing escaped me until I learned what this monastery is for.
The monks congregated in the large courtyard in front of the main assembly hall, which incidentally was immediately below our guesthouse. They sat in a horseshoe shape, with the head monk leading the chants from the middle. This status got him a cushion to sit on; everyone else had to make do with the hard flagstones. At the open end would sit white bundles, wrapped in the scarves Tibetans use to show respect (when given to a lama, high religious official, or placed on the buddhas or stupas in temples). There were also bundles of food, tea, and other essentials. Visiting Tibetans would then hand one of the monks a big bundle of small yuan notes who would then walk around and hand out several to most of the monks. I could never figure out why some monks would receive items, while others would not. Sometimes one monk would get more than others, again, why I don't know.
The food parcels would be moved to in front of the head monk for a while, then be picked up for distribution. If a monk had a bag, in it would go, or maybe it would be dropped into their laps, or placed in front of them. This was repeated with various items: piles of potatoes, candles, some kind of root vegetable, and then, more money.
At some point, they finished, and everyone would jump up and rush away, to dinner, probably. Most of them were staring around, laughing, or talking to each other throughout the ceremony - just like kids in school, not everyone took it very seriously. I wonder if the variance in interest is because some of them are given to the monasteries as youngsters by their parents, while some choose to enter themselves?
The next morning, we gathered our things and prepared to head out. Another ceremony was taking place - only one white bundle this time. Last night had been three. When it finished, one of the locals gathered the white bundle and off they went to the sky burial - it was a body! We had recognized one of the visiting Tibetans from the bus we had taken the day before. I guess at least one body, probably more, must have come with us, strapped to the roof.
For anyone not familiar with a sky burial, it's the method the Tibetans use to dispose of the body after a natural death (unnatural death, such as from a gun, may not use sky burial, but may result in cremation or burial in the ground). Tibetans believe in reincarnation - once death occurs, the body is no longer of importance. It is dismembered and chopped up and given to the birds (and whatever scavengers are there). Hair is shaved and burned, and bones which can't be digested are smashed to allow access to the marrow.
From here we followed the trail from the monastery around the mountain to the neighboring valley, where we would walk to Terdrun Nunnery. We broke our fast with a shared energy bar and munched on rosehips that grew on bushes along the path. Quite tasty, though a lot of work - the seeds were big.
What I've learned: