One evening at dusk, while photographing the Bokara lakes in Nepal, I met an elderly Tibetan
woman who described to me how she had been forced to escape into exile.
She became highly emotional as we spoke and was moved to tears as she told me how she
spent the last 20 years far from home without ever seeing her children again. It was there.
By the Begnus Lake, I made the promise to this woman to go deep into Tibet and return
to tell the world what I would see with my own eyes.
It was a four-week journey across the Tibetan region situated in the current Chinese province
of Sichuan. Theoretically, my visa allowed me to travel freely. I moved ahead either by walking
or hitchhiking at an altitude between three and six thousand meters. After four days of traveling,
I reached the first Tibetan town, Abba.
Upon arrival, a dozen Chinese agents surrounded me in the street. They took me into a police
van and urged me to leave the region by eight o'clock the following morning. I assured them I
would comply with their demands, but asked if I could take a look at the Tibetan monastery
prior to leaving. The agent said they could not allow for this for my own safety,
as the monastery was full of dangerous and violent activists. After a sleepless night,
I left the hotel at five in the morning, convincing the police officer guarding the
entrance that I was on my way to the bus station and ready to leave. Instead, I climbed to the
monastery of Abba, where I found the Tibetans that had been labeled as dangerous and violent
activists by the Chinese agents on the previous day.
I went to the monastery of Abba, where I found the Tibetans that had been labeled as
dangerous and violent activists by the Chinese agents on the previous day.
I knew the Chinese authorities would be searching for me, so I decided to slip away from the city,
climbing through the bush, determined to set myself out of their reach, until I could learn why my
presence in Tibet had provoked such suspicion. While walking away, I observed a shocking reality,
a town whose population ten years ago was less than a thousand people, now easily exceeded 10,000.
From the mountains, I could observe how the original Tibetan village has become barely a
neighborhood in the shadow of the new Chinese constructions, turning the Tibetans into a small
minority in their own home.
I was able to find the Tibetans that had been labeled as dangerous and violent activists
by the Chinese agents on the previous day.
I was able to find the Tibetans that had been labeled as dangerous and violent activists
by the Chinese agents on the previous day.
After riding in several vehicles and walking for many hours, I arrived at Guanyin, a Tibetan
sanctuary known for its temple at the top of a mountain, and its base was a gigantic tourist
project under construction, which presents a dreadful impact on the environment and the charm of the place.
I was determined to reach the temple. I had been climbing stairs for an
hour without meeting anyone, when all of a sudden, a police patrol showed up.
There were dozens of questions, writing down my passport information,
and of course, spanning me from visiting the sanctuary. Fortunately, I managed to convince the
patrol that I was going to spend the night at a Chinese-owned hostel, a mandatory requirement
for foreigners who stay in Tibetan areas. In truth, I had no intention of spending one more
second in a place controlled by the Chinese police. Despite the night already falling,
I carried on with my journey.
At sunrise, I found myself in a town embracing a beautiful traditional neighborhood.
I discovered that I had been built with the intention of showing the integrity of both
ethnicities and serve as an attraction for foreigner visitors. It was the second piece
of evidence that would later lead me to the irrefutable conclusion that Tibet is to become
exploited as a major tourist destination.
Next stop held a very pleasant surprise. After stepping out of a car that had picked me up,
I realized that I was in a square enclosed by two temples.
A hundred young Tibetan monks lived here, and my visit awakened in them an extreme curiosity.
I had no intention of spending one more second in a place controlled by the Chinese police.
At sunrise, I found myself in a town embracing a beautiful traditional neighborhood.
I discovered that I had been built with the intention of showing the integrity of both ethnicities and
serve as an attraction for foreigner visitors.
I discovered that I had been built with the intention of showing the integrity of both ethnicities and
serve as an attraction for foreigner visitors.
They woke me at dawn the next morning and prepared some breakfast that we shared together. Then,
they invited me for a walk, which turned into a six-hour climb under a snowfall to the mount next
to their temple. My companions were three young monks who became overwhelmed with emotion as they
introduced me to the places that held special meaning for them on that mountain,
the shelter for their inner search and development.
I had no intention of spending one more second in a place controlled by the Chinese police.
I had no intention of spending one more second in a place controlled by the Chinese police.
I had no intention of spending one more second in a place controlled by the Chinese police.
I had no intention of spending one more second in a place controlled by the Chinese police.
I had no intention of spending one more second in a place controlled by the Chinese police.
I had no intention of spending one more second in a place controlled by the Chinese police.
The following day, I woke up early and prepared my backpack as I intended to carry on with the road.
Many young monks came to bid farewell and gave me a bag full of supplies they had prepared especially for me.
It was a truly unique feeling. Despite having spent only three days at the monastery, unable to speak with anybody,
I had the intense impression of knowing them for many years.
I walked in the direction carved by my exaltation of that moment.
I was dazzled by the unspoiled beauty of the peaks of the world.
It felt to me that you're only completely set free when you know not where you're going and you don't mind at all.
I had no intention of spending one more second in a place controlled by the Chinese police.
I had no intention of spending one more second in a place controlled by the Chinese police.
I had no intention of spending one more second in a place controlled by the Chinese police.
I was dazzled by the unspoiled beauty of the peaks of the world.
After a few hours, a car with three Chinese citizens picked me up.
When I tried to exit the car, they told me there was nothing to see and refusing to let me go, the car began speeding up.
I was now alone with the driver who observed me in the rearview mirror, asking questions and playing music in English to please me, I assumed.
I made clear to him that I was going to disembark at the next village and once we arrived there and I asked him to stop,
he said no, claiming there were temples and monks and therefore it was very dangerous.
I insisted but he blocked the doors.
Let me go, hey, I want to go to the car, let me go, let me go to the car.
After jumping out of the window, the driver tried to follow me but I left the road and began walking by the river.
The driver turned around and sped away.
A local man who had witnessed the scene was looking at me and smiling as if nothing had happened.
I was signaled, inviting me to come eat. It was an offer I could not refuse.
Lets take a closer look inside of me.
one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, ten, nine, ten, ten.
Each and every person I met along the way in Tibet kept asking me about the Dalai Lama,
their eyes filled with hope and emotion.
It struck a chord deep in me, imagining the vast number of human beings whose dream could
be fulfilled just by allowing one person to return home, even if only for a day.
In La Teng, I came upon a very special way believers have of paying their devotion.
They even use it to travel in pilgrimage for dozens of miles towards holy spots in the
world.
They even use it to travel in pilgrimage for dozens of miles towards holy spots in the
world.
They even use it to travel in pilgrimage for dozens of miles towards holy spots in the
world.
I also witnessed the millinery ritual of the sky burial, where a flock of vultures devours
the corpse of a Tibetan.
In this traditional funeral method, by transmutation, the human in its last trip rejoins nature in
its most basic form.
In Tibetan Buddhism, for those who have led a respectable life, death is not the end,
but the beginning of something greater.
Thus, the relatives of the deceased celebrate their loved one's procession to a better life.
Nevertheless, due to the brutality of the ritual, they prefer to honor him from a distance.
Led by hungry vultures that have a wingspan of nearly three meters, the figure of the
man responsible for chopping and shredding the human corpse seemed especially startling.
When asking the locals, they clarified that he was a highly respected figure within the
community and is never in need of anything.
However, given the grim nature of his work, nobody was willing to become friends with
him for fear of being labeled morbid.
Only an occupation that requires a colossal amount of personality.
I met a crew of musicians and traveled with them for seven hours in their truck, crossing
part of the Tibetan Plateau.
In the most remote part of that road, we again encountered a Chinese agent who held the musicians
and confiscated the traditional tools that were part of their performance.
It was already the fifth time that this had happened.
The agent also took note of my passport, asked dozens of questions, and tried to force me
to leave the Tibetan region immediately.
Once again, I managed to evade intimidation, and my journey through Tibet continued.
It had been an exhausting day where I traveled with the musicians, was halted by the police,
later on bitten by a rabid dog, and finally hounded by an undercover police car on several
occasions.
I had a growing need to be on my own, to let the path take me where it will, getting lost
and allowing its uncovered secrets to raise my mood and spirit.
And so it was.
The next day, after having walked for three hours, two native-looking men picked me up.
They drove me all day long over dirt and rocky roads, crossing mountains, and barely meeting
another soul along the way.
Something told me the adventure ahead would be striking.
I had the good fortune of arriving at a remote monastery tucked between mountains just as
they were celebrating a mesmerizing annual ritual.
The monks spend four days singing prayers and offering traditional music and dances
to the devotees.
Hundreds of believers come to the ritual, rewarding the monks with donations and supplies,
enabling them to survive in their permanent and unique spiritual retreat.
I was fascinated by the balance of the Tibetan society, where the monks hold the responsibility
of ongoing personal development.
They serve as mentors for the rest of the community, who trust the monks to advise
and guide them whenever they have an important decision to make.
They tend to consider their monks to be more cautious and knowledgeable, and through donations
ensure the persistence of their humble way of life and the harvesting of their wisdom.
Many vassals are proud to work inhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, thanks for your
service!
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Oh
Here, I had the rare opportunity to witness the elaborate process of a mandala.
A group of monks worked for many days to create a magnificent piece of art, having as goals
to increase their awareness and concentration and become more receptive to the beauty of
the universe.
The moment their creation is finished, they destroy it with their own hands, confident
in the knowledge that all the beauty in this world lies only in our minds, and depends
entirely on our perspective.
At last, I reached the border of the autonomous region of Tibet, and theoretically, there
was no road left to follow, but I felt driven to continue.
I progressed along small paths that not even the locals could tell me where they led, and
I didn't feel the need to know either.
For many days, I immersed myself in unspoiled lands, sleeping in monasteries, and houses
of locals.
I met unique and exceptional people, and I was constantly amazed to discover how each
of the Tibetans I encountered were so unique and expressive.
Even though we could not talk to each other, I felt like we always said so much.
I could not explain why, but communication felt more honest than I had ever experienced.
My exploration moved into a higher gear when a young Tibetan invited me to drive with him
on his motorbike towards a place that, given his enthusiasm, sounded extraordinary.
And indeed it was.
The monastery of Katuk was founded in the 12th century after a lama had predicted that
there would be a big temple called Ka built on a mountain in the shape of a lion.
One of the lama's disciples found the letter Ka in a rock on Mount Yuluri, and as the
lama had prophesied, a monastery was built which later became one of the main lineages
in schools of ancient Tibetan Buddhism.
At its peak, the monastery was home to over a thousand monks who were educated in sutra,
tantra, medicine, astrology, and poetry, and had become the major academic reference of
its time.
The monastery was founded in the 12th century after a lama had predicted that there would
be a big temple called Ka in a rock on Mount Yuluri, and the monastery was built in the
12th century after a lama had predicted that there would be a big temple called Ka in a rock
on Mount Yuluri, and the monastery was built in the 12th century after a lama had predicted
that there would be a big temple called Ka in a rock on Mount Yuluri, and the monastery
was built in the 12th century after a lama had predicted that there would be a big temple
called Ka in a rock on Mount Yuluri, and the monastery was built in the 12th
century after a lama had predicted that there would be a big temple called Ka in a rock
on Mount Yuluri, and the monastery was built in the 12th century after a lama had predicted
that there would be a big temple called Ka in a rock on Mount Yuluri, and the monastery
was built in the 12th century after a lama had predicted that there would be a big
temple called Ka in a rock on Mount Yuluri, and the monastery was built in the 12th
century after a lama had predicted that there would be a big temple called Ka in a rock
on Mount Yuluri.
I journeyed on through unnamed paths, always meeting tremendously generous people that
opened their doors and made me feel like one of the family. With each, I had the privilege
of discovering remarkable ways of living, forged through centuries isolated from the
civilized world as we know it.
I arrived at a small and remote church on Mount Yuluri,
I arrived at a small and remote charming Tibetan village. It had already been a week since
the last time I met a Han settler, but here was a small community with five people that
were easy to identify. At the entrance of their house, two puppies had suffered the
punishment they had considered proper enough. During the last four weeks, I had learned firsthand
the absolute respect Tibetans have for animal life. I felt shocked and disturbed to witness
that five individuals living in the core of a society different from their own could act
in a way they knew would so badly hurt the rest of the community around them. A few hours
later, a police patrol showed up. They held me for seven hours in the middle of a path
till a young English-speaking girl arrived to let me know they were going to transport
me to Baiyu and later send me back to England, China. It was the end of my journey. I had
been stopped by Chinese authorities all in all on nine different occasions. The perception
of Tibet as a mystical and fascinating place is formed equally by culture, religion, and
its unique natural setting. Having each of these components seriously threatens and pushes
the Tibetan idiosyncrasy closer and closer to extinction, forcing Tibet to plead for help
from the international community in order to stop its disintegration in time. Despite all
of these factors and the incessant pressure from the development of modern civilization
and the approaching upon this extraordinary culture, there is still hope that both sides
will leave behind historical pride and resentment, that they will engage in a dialogue and yield
in order to achieve an understanding that would end the oppression and violence that
stained the peaks of the world with sorrow and resentment. There still could be retained
a culture based on human growth and the harvesting of wisdom. Peace is a dream worth fighting
and it is not too late yet. In spite of it all, Tibet is still Tibet.
Thank you very much.
Thank you.
