“You need chaos in your soul to give birth to a dancing star”. – Friedrich Nietzsche
Amdo – home to the headwaters of three of Asia’s greatest rivers: the Yellow, the Yangzi and the Mekong; the birthplace of the current Dalai Lama, the 10th Pachen Lama and Tsongkhapa (founder of the Gelukpa School of Tibetan Buddhism); high altitude grasslands and plateaus, cold, dry and windy. Amdo is the region which the Tibetan peoples have been the most exposed over the centuries to cultural contacts with neighboring peoples: Tu, Salar, Mongol, Hui and Chinese.
Historically, this area’s Tibetan speaking tribes have played an important role in the formation of several Chinese dynasties in the northeast; but during the Tang Dynasty, the Tibetan Empire of the Yarlung kings consolidated its control over the whole region and culturally the region has remained within the Tibetan sphere ever since. It was through contact with the Sakyapa and Kagyupa traditions in the grasslands that Mongol tribes of Genghiz Qan (Ghengis Khan) and his successors were brought within the fold of Tibetan Buddhism. For some 500 years (13th – 18th century) the Mongol tribes dominated the grasslands, and following the conversion of Altan Qan by the 3rd Dalai Lama in 1580 to the Gelukpa School, successive qans zealously sought to impose the acceptance of the Gelukpa order upon the diverse cultural traditions of the region. In 1641, Gushi Qan, who established his empire near Lake Kokonor (Qinghai Lake) helped the 5th Dalai Lama unify spiritual and temporal power under his authority in Lhasa, which as remained under Gelukpa power ever since. Following the pacification of the Mongols by Manchu emperor Qianlong in the 18th century, the political vacuum in the Amdo area was filled by the Muslims, who encroached southwest from Xining, dominating the trade routes. From 1727 until the mid 20th century most of the Amdo region was controlled by the Ma family who based themselves around Lake Kokonor as well. Golok, Sertal and Gyarong all remained outside of their jurisdiction in the hands of local Tibetan populace (and Golok was one of my main destinations – Leigh and I had already traveled to Sertal and Gyarong in 2003 during our trip to Kham). Interestingly, the present Dalai Lama (the 14th) was born in Tsongkha Khar area of Amdo in 1935, firmly under the control of the Muslim warlord Ma Pu-feng. The Tibetan government had to pay a large ransom to ensure the release of this child incarnate and his safe passage to Lhasa. In 1950, Ma Pu-feng succumbed to the PLA (People’s Liberation Army), leaving most of Amdo in the hands of the Communists. And we all know how that has turned out…
Amdo is a region of incredible beauty, starkness and space with grassy hills, marshlands, deep river gorges, agricultural valleys and in parts of eastern Amdo lots of forest. Unfortunately the forests are being cut down at an alarming rate, many of the mountains and hills in the area completely denuded and showing the terrible affects of rapid erosion because of it. And sadly, the pastures are now becoming overgrazed and exhibit only a limited diversity of species anymore. The modern emphasis on animal husbandry, the new road network and changes in stock management techniques have led to increasingly intensive use of the land and deterioration in pasture quality. Almost all of the large wild animals have disappeared but the small mammals like the pika, mole, rabbit and marmot have exploded in the absence of predators, though as a result of this the predatory bird populations of hawks and large brown eagles have risen accordingly. Despite these degradations, the relatively rich pasture lands of Amdo sustain a nomadic population larger than anywhere else in Tibet. I visited the some Golok nomads and some Banak nomads during my visit here. The education system here is (as in all of Tibet) is basic at best, with Tibetans forced to study Chinese if they wish to advance in their chosen careers. There are very few employment opportunities here, so most children follow their parents and become nomadic pastoralists, while a few, mostly boys, join one of the numerous monasteries that have been rebuilt in the last 13 years. Unlike central Tibet, there is no age limit to when a boy can enter the monastery. I saw boys as young as 5 in the monasteries here; whereas in central Tibet is illegal until one turns 18! Surpisingly, government funds have been given over to help rebuild these monasteries, and each site is given a quota of timber and building materials, as well as a construction team, typically made up of Chinese craftsmen. With the exception of the main temples in Repkong, Labrang and Kumbum, virtually all the original monasteries of Amdo were destroyed and the vast bulk of Amdo’s artistic heritage was lost (though there is a small movement currently gaining momentum to reverse this trend).
Amdo is wild, cold, wide open and full of very independent minded cowboys and cowgirls. Nomad country. Very different to central Tibet in so many ways. I have now seen at least parts of all 4 major Tibetan regions here in China: Tsang (central/southern), Ngari (western), Kham (eastern) and Amdo (northern). It’s still hard to believe that they were once (and are still) considered to be the same country. They are all so different…the spoken language, the foods, the dress; but all so similar too…the written language, the religion, the landscape (with sometimes major variations especially between far eastern and far western areas), the faces. Amazing place, particularly when the Chinese aren’t to be seen. My main reason for coming here at this time (it’s particularly cold and windy right now and at least 3 weeks behind Lhasa in the trees budding, flowers blooming, warm sun department!) was to help round out my collection of images from more rural areas, where the people have a distinctly different dress and the landscape might be ever so slightly different and unique. My image collection, the one I hope to build a book out of, lacks the countryside living and traditional nomadic family images (this makes sense because we’ve been living in Lhasa all year!), so I needed to get out of town and explore some new territory. As we’ll see, it was both successful and disappointing.
Because of people here in Lhasa taking long breaks for New Year’s and nothing open or really going on, Leigh and traveled together for the first half of the trip and then she returned to Lhasa and I went deeper into Amdo country with a hired guide/translator. We could have used the translator from the start as even Leigh’s pretty good conversational Lhasa dialect got us absolutely nowhere in Amdo! It’s strange to see it, but Chinese has actually become the default common tongue between the different Tibetan areas because they can hardly understand each other otherwise.
Day 1 -2, Train to Lanzhou
The infamous train. Evil? Beneficial? A scar on the landscape? The end of Tibet as we know it? The arguments rage on.
Personally, I don’t feel much negative towards the train coming to Tibet. It’s been in the works since 1950 (when China starting planning to connect all parts of the Motherland by rail) and it is in humble opinion, inevitable. A basic construct of a nation modernizing, connecting ports of trade, increasing communications, etc. Yes, there will be major negative consequences – increased migrants moving to Lhasa, increase in capacity for shipping coal, minerals and lumber to the east, a long ribbon of steel dividing the Tibetan nomadic countryside, increased ability to ship large amounts of military troops and supplies quickly to the plateau. But I believe that the increase in access to so many young middle class Chinese tourists could be, in the long term, beneficial to both parties. It is my sincere hope that those who will be ruling China tomorrow, come to Tibet today, to witness for themselves what is happening, what changes are being made, how the culture here is trying to survive despite ever maligned intention from the current ruling party, and hopefully, hopefully, one, two maybe even dozens of these next generation rulers might become touched deep down, changed in some small but fundamental way and little by little the situation here will become lighter and possibly even Autonomous government status given (like Hong Kong or Taiwan for example). The important question though is what will happen first – the death throes of Tibet or reconciliation and granting of self-rule? The signs are not positive right now, but the only thing that is permanent is change.
Of course we barely made it on time to the station the morning we were leaving because my alarm didn’t go off! So there we were, running through the station with our large bags and carrying each a bag of food, up and down stairs (anyone in a wheelchair is totally screwed in China!) and even having Leigh lose her bag and have it go racing down two levels of stairs and almost crashing into a large group of people at the bottom like a bowling ball and they were the pins! If it wasn’t so scary, it would have been funnier. We literally stepped onto the train and less than a minute it was pulling out of the station. Whew! We made it. On the train and on our way to Amdo!
It takes about 26 hours to get from Lhasa north to Lanzhou where we would take a bus back south into Amdo. Leaving at 9 am, we got to see most of the Tibetan countryside between here and there and it was quite incredible. For the first few hours the landscape was similar to that in Lhasa – high mountains, large wide agricultural valleys, many small and medium sized villages of adobe houses with white walls, large south-facing courtyards and flat earthen roofs. As we traveled through the Nakchu area (about 4 hours north of Lhasa), the landscape started to change to wider valleys, rolling tall hills, much more snow and many more but more sparsely settled nomads with their huge herds of yaks and sometimes horses. This is the southern fringe of nomad land, rich grasslands that support large herds of grazing animals and therefore many thousands of nomads and their families. It is a beautiful and stark land, much like the people that inhabit it.
The train ride was in itself uneventful really. A lot of sitting and looking out the window. Leigh and I played cards, chatted, ate snacks, napped and read books to help the time go by. We made friends with one of our car mates. The train is divided into three classes of seats. Third class is a bunch of seats with tables in between them and racks above the head to store your luggage. There is no lying down, there is no space. It’s cramped, crowded and receives the least amount of attention from the cleaning staff. The seats are the cheapest option, but honestly it ain’t worth it! Second class or the hard sleepers are 6 beds to a compartment and about 8 compartments to a car. It’s a bit crowded at times and the hallways are pretty narrow, but at least you can lie down comfortably and there’s room under the bed for baggage. Each compartment has its own table and then a couple seats in the hallway next to a window where you can ‘escape’ the confines of the sleeping part to enjoy the view from the other window. And finally the first class or soft sleepers have only 4 soft beds per compartment but basically the same set up like the soft sleeper cars with tables in the hall and compartment, etc. We made friends with one of our compartment mates who could speak pretty good English. She was in Lhasa visiting her husband who is in the Army and stationed here. She was very nice. She made us laugh many times. When we taught her how to play Rummy card game she won like 8 in a row immediately! And then the funniest part was when I was wandering the halls and up and down the train being a little cabin fever like and when I get back to our ‘room’ she and Leigh were in a very engrossed conversation and when they saw me they asked me to stay out for a few more minutes. I obliged and when I finally found out what they were talking about later after we had left the train, Leigh told me that the woman was telling Leigh she had very nice breasts and how her husband is always saying how foreign women have very nice breasts! Hilarious!
After what seemed like a long trip (though I think it was just me being bored), we arrived at Lanzhou our initial destination. I don’t really have much to say about the place, we didn’t spend much time there and didn’t really want to. It’s a big, dirty, paved, crowded Chinese city. In fact, at one point just a few years ago it was ranked at the world’s dirtiest city. Lovely. Leigh and I got a hotel, wandered around for a little while, found the bus station and figured out the tickets to our next destination, had a KFC dinner (yes, that’s the fried chicken place!) and basically chilled. After the train ride, neither of us was feeling too energetic.
Day 3, Xia He/Labrang Monastery
More traveling. This time a 5 hour bus ride. Boy, this area is not easy to get to! Passing first through the heavily populated and deeply eroded valleys around Lanzhou, we gradually began to climb into the mountains. At first every community we drove through was Muslim, with the tall minarets of the Mosques and the white caps of the men and the colorful head scarves of the women prominent and hard to miss. Eventually, the highway passed deeper into the mountains and the higher we got the less and less Muslim population we saw. As the landscape changed, so did the architecture, dress, religion and culture. We began to see chortens and monasteries, different faces and dress. Why is it that Islam doesn’t have a strong focus on monastic living? It was really fascinating to witness the change and think on how this is how it’s been for centuries – where one group of people has adapted to a particular place/landscape/ecosystem so fluently that it just becomes their land, synonymous with their people. I say this about the Tibetans specifically here, but this idea can be applied to people like the Navajo and Hopi, the Dakota and Lakota, the Cherokee, the Seminole, the Maya, the Celts and thousands of other indigenous cultures that have either been absorbed into the stronger, industry based, invading culture or have disappeared entirely, lost to our memories and fantasies forever. Over the years, I have become increasingly aware of the relationship between a culture and its environment. It is especially evident here because the land can be so barren and unforgiving here, it’s truly amazing to see how an entire empire has thrived for so many years with so little to found it on.
Earlier than we expected, we arrived at our destination: Xia He and the home of Labrang Monastery. Like so many other rapidly growing small Tibetan towns, Xia He (which I believe means narrow or straight river in Mandarin) is based on one uber-long main street with dirt road branching out leading to smaller side valleys and house clusters. Sprawling along the banks of the Sang-chu river for over three kilometers, Xia He is a town split in half – the east side is predominately Hui Muslims and the west side is occupied by the Tibetans and the dominating Labrang Monastery. Getting off at the bus station, we hailed a motorcycle taxi to take us and find a place to sleep for the several days we would be there. But because of the very popular Monlam celebrations taking place here (one of the main reasons we came), it took us about an hour of searching before we could finally secure a room. The town was packed, and not with tourists, but with pilgrims and nomads and Tibetans coming to see the festival and celebrate the end of New Year. The place we found, as we would later loudly discover, is a pilgrims and locals only hotel. It was cheap, clean enough (by our very low standards at this point) and warm. Did I mention this place was cold? Brrr!
Labrang is one of the six great Gelukpa schools in Tibet (the other 5 being Drepung, Sera, Ganden, Kumbum and Tashilimpo) and is amongst the handful of places to have survived the Cultural Revolution relatively intact. It was founded in 1709 (the same year that Peter I of Russia defeats Charles XII of Sweden at Poltava thus effectively ending Sweden's role as a major power in Europe, the founding of Chihuahua, Mexico is founded and the Emperor Nakamikado ascends to the throne of Japan…just to give some historical relevance). The incarnations of the founder, believed to be a teacher of the great Tsongkhapa, are superseded only by the Dalai Lama and the Pachen Lama. This is the most powerful and largest monastery in Amdo. At its high point, Labrang housed 4,000 monks and even as late as 1947 there were over 300 geshes, or high teachers, 3,000 monks and 50-100 incarnate lamas. Today, however, there are only about 1,000 monks.
We came specifically to see this grand and important monastery, but mostly to witness the Great Prayer Festival held on the 13th day of the 1st lunar month. During this 3-4 day festival, a very large (30x20 meter or 98.5x65 foot) appliqué tangkha is carried out and unrolled on a hillside on the opposite side of the river facing the monastery complex. This is then followed by cham dances, butter sculpture offerings and procession of a Maitreya statue around the monastery.
Day 4, Labrang Monastery
We had heard many people tell us that the unrolling of the large tangkha here is a must see and quite incredible. And when the day came, we were not disappointed!
Rising early and quite groggy from sleeping in a room too hot and with next door neighbors who liked to sing very loudly and into the very early morning hours (and if it wasn’t such beautiful vocals or my earplugs I might have said something), we headed to our newly discovered favorite restaurant in Xia He, the Nomad Restaurant, for a quick breakfast of Nescafe and banana pancakes with honey. The man who runs the place is very kind and was about the only person within a 50 mile radius that seemed to understand Leigh’s Lhasa dialect Tibetan. The place was situated at a very strategic corner that overlooked the monastery complex and the bustling street market below. The clientele was mostly Tibetans there to enjoy some hot milk and sugar (in Amdo they seem to forget to put tea in the ‘tea’) and the atmosphere is really relaxed. So we enjoyed hanging out there a lot.
After breakfast, we made our way with most of the rest of town to the tangkha hill where everyone was gathering and there as a palpable air of intense excitement and festivity. Everyone was dressed in their finest chubas and waited impatiently for the procession to begin. There were so many people. Definitely one of the largest single gatherings I’d ever seen in Tibet, because a gathering like this in Lhasa or central Tibet would be totally illegal and prohibited. After just awhile, the restless crowd finally heard the conch shell horns and drums of the procession emerging from the monastic complex and the level of excitement rose noticeably. Coming across the bridge from the monastery, lead by a group of royally dressed horsemen, a few Tibetan clowns and most of the monastery’s highest lamas, was the huge rolled tangkha carried by probably over 100 monks! It looked like this massive yellow caterpillar with 100 pink and maroon legs inching its way over the river and up the hill. Then, as soon as the procession crossed the bridge, the stampede to touch the head to the tangkha began! Wow. It was so much fun, so much pushing and shoving, so much energy and excitement. Hundreds of people were shoving up to get close to the walking rolled tangkha to try and touch their heads to it and then there were all these monks running up and down the line trying to beat them off….with their robes! Now, I’ve never been hit with a robe sleeve before so I can’t say for sure, but I’m thinking it wasn’t really much of a deterrent for the devotees. And sure enough the rush to touch the head continued as the yellow and maroon caterpillar made its way up the hill and to the top. I had already claimed my spot in the crowd at the bottom of the hill and it quickly became quite crowded around me as the masses filled in and waited the grand unrolling. After the necessary chanting and prayers offered by the higher lamas, the hundreds of monks lining the massive tangkha began the difficult and coordinated task of unrolling it down the hillside. It was massive! And beautiful! I couldn’t tell if it was the bitter cold and biting wind or just the awe inspiring affect of seeing this incredibly large work of art and devotion unfurled, but it was challenging to photograph at times because of the tears in my eyes. I’m not even Buddhist but the power of that moment will be hard to forget. It was deeply moving. And the crowd around me, full of pilgrims and devout witnesses began to prostrate and recite their appropriate prayers upon seeing the huge image unveiled.
The power of seeing large images like this, larger than life, is very powerful. It has given me ideas for my photographs. I think I’d like to see my work from here in Tibet printed life-size or bigger. Like 4 feet by 5 foot or something like that. I think that would add a level of presence and audacity to them. I need to try and avoid the ‘bigger is better’ just because it’s bigger, but with the right images in the right environment, it could be very successful. We’ll see what happens.
The orderly nature of the crowd soon disintegrated after the lamas completed their prayers and left the scene. And the rushing crowd to the bottom or to the sides of the large long-life Buddha of Infinite Light was a site to behold. To see such religious devotion is inspiring but always, for me at least raises questions of identity and self analysis. Why don’t I feel such powerful faith? Is something wrong with me? Am I less than them for feeling nothing but mild curiosity or exotic fascination? Is this religion better than others? Why do religion and religious images and ritual have such a strong pull for people? Do these folks really critically think about what they are taught or do they just go on pure faith or because their parents and their friends are this way too? What if I’m wrong in not believing and get to the end of my days and there’s nothing there for me? These are questions that I still struggle with, especially living in a society whose very structure and modes of living are based within and around a religion (or as many Buddhists will argue, not a religion but a philosophy). Again, the monks who were lining the sides and bottom to ‘protect’ it were just using their sleeves for weapons and didn’t really seem to illicit anything more than laughter and big smiles from those trying to touch the image. It was hard not to join in fun, so I rushed forward too and got whacked a time or two but no real harm done and my head has now touched the large tangkha….maybe that will mean something, maybe not, but why not cover all the bases right?
“Acceptance without proof is the fundamental characteristic of Western religion, rejection without proof is the fundamental characteristic of Western science”. – Gary Zukav
Eventually, after only like an hour of having it displayed, the monks began the re-rolling. This was as much fun to watch as the unrolling but for different reasons. With rhythmic songs, good humor, laughter and a lot of yelling, the monks got the thing rolled and began the long caterpillar walk back to the main temple of the monastery from where they came. With this, the crowd began to break up, laughing, hugging and all together in a very cheerful mood. Off into town to drink tea, have lunch, hang with friends and family and I’m sure to relive and share the glory of their head butting tangkha adventures. It reminded me of the feeling you have after a great show, walking out of the venue with your friends…a collective experience shared and enjoyed by all there. With little trouble, I found Leigh (not too many white faced, curly haired whities around), and we went arm and arm down into town to do the same: content, happy and grateful for the chance to see such wonder.
Day 5, Labrang
Today was the cham dances. Pretty cool, seen them before. Colorful but long.
Personally, I don’t feel much negative towards the train coming to 
Day 3, 
Earlier than we expected, we arrived at our destination: Xia He and the home of Labrang Monastery. Like so many other rapidly growing small Tibetan towns, Xia He (which I believe means narrow or straight river in Mandarin) is based on one uber-long main street with dirt road branching out leading to smaller side valleys and house clusters. Sprawling along the banks of the Sang-chu river for over three kilometers, Xia He is a town split in half – the east side is predominately Hui Muslims and the west side is occupied by the Tibetans and the dominating Labrang Monastery. Getting off at the bus station, we hailed a motorcycle taxi to take us and find a place to sleep for the several days we would be there. But because of the very popular Monlam celebrations taking place here (one of the main reasons we came), it took us about an hour of searching before we could finally secure a room. The town was packed, and not with tourists, but with pilgrims and nomads and Tibetans coming to see the festival and celebrate the end of New Year. The place we found, as we would later loudly discover, is a pilgrims and locals only hotel. It was cheap, clean enough (by our very low standards at this point) and warm. Did I mention this place was cold? Brrr!
Eventually, after only like an hour of having it displayed, the monks began the re-rolling. This was as much fun to watch as the unrolling but for different reasons. With rhythmic songs, good humor, laughter and a lot of yelling, the monks got the thing rolled and began the long caterpillar walk back to the main temple of the monastery from where they came. With this, the crowd began to break up, laughing, hugging and all together in a very cheerful mood. Off into town to drink tea, have lunch, hang with friends and family and I’m sure to relive and share the glory of their head butting tangkha adventures. It reminded me of the feeling you have after a great show, walking out of the venue with your friends…a collective experience shared and enjoyed by all there. With little trouble, I found Leigh (not too many white faced, curly haired whities around), and we went arm and arm down into town to do the same: content, happy and grateful for the chance to see such wonder.
