Serentity at 13000 Feet

Flying from Chengdu to Lhasa revealed a Himalayas I had not expected. There snow fields and sharp ravines, but there were also broad green pastures and marble-like lakes. Not the Everest strewn and yeti filled mountains in my mind.

The Potala Palace is, of course, the main sight to see in Lhasa,and it is indeed impressive. But not far away, is another plaza, Barkhor. It leads to the Jokhang Temple, one of the most sacred shrines to the Tibetan Buddhists. It is in here that a golden statue of Buddha Sakyamuni given as dowry by a Tang princess has been revered for 1300 years. Pilgrims walk here, even prostrate themselves all the way here, to enter the temple. An endless ring of prayer-wheel-twirling red-cheeked pilgrims circles the building. The building itself is hidden in the smoke and incense pouring from two ten foot high chambers.

It was here that our local guide, Chombah, told me to jump to the head of the line of the faithful entering the temple. I balked.

“No,” I told him, “I don’t want to get in front of all these people who have come to worship at their temple.”

“It is alright,” Chombah said.

“No, I can wait.”

“Please.” He spoke very slowly as he looked into my eyes. “The line is very long, I know. But, these people can tell just by looking at you that you have come from even further away than they. Most have never even heard of America. They will be honored to let you go ahead.”

So in we went, in past the faintly rancid smelling yak butter candles. In row upon row a thousand candles burning as the only illumination in the outer rooms. As I passed each person, I thanked him in his language (thoo jaychay) and they, in turn, unbelievably thanked me.