WorldNomads Competition Entry

Deep burgundy robes billowing around the feet of strolling monks, a faint scent of incense, green and gold tiles paving walkways lined with tattered flags under a blue sky: Lhasa is both beautiful and heartbreaking. Tibetans sitting at the side of the roads, skin burnished from sun exposure, follow us foreigners with striking grey eyes. They throw out greetings – “Hello!” “Namaste!” as we walk up the stony mountains, breaking into broad grins when we try to reply in the words we’ve memorized from handbooks. Entering a temple, ancient stone walls block out all sunlight. It is cooler, darker. Smoke from candles stings the eyes, pervades the senses, and one has to squint to see paintings of the fourteen Dalai Lamas hanging in room after room. Most striking are the piles of money beneath each one, the earnest offerings of destitute pilgrims who travel for miles to pay tribute.

Amid the maze of candles and figurines, there is one room in which we must bow. I look at the line of Tibetans ahead of me, assured of what they are doing, worried I will make a mistake that will interrupt the order. They approach a shrine, bow, place their head below a stone and then quickly move forward. A monk stands by, watching. When my turn comes, I am nervous as I mimic them. As I stand up from bowing, heart beating quickly, I find myself facing the monk. He stands directly in front of me, staring me in the eyes. I’m certain I’ve done something wrong, but he quickly he smiles and gently places a white scarf over my head. He nods encouragingly at me, offers a small bow and returns to watching those behind me. I turn to our guide for an explanation, who is also smiling. “A blessing,” she says, and then touching my scarf, “Very holy.”

It was not a dramatic moment, but it is one I have not forgotten. Travel offers innumerable opportunities to learn, not all of them obvious. Tibet itself is a lifetime of lessons: of beauty, of endurance, and in that one gesture, of kindness and acceptance.