Lunching with Lamas in Lhasa

Much has happened since my last post. I've travelled all around Yunnan Province, hiked Tiger Leaping Gorge (although I saw no tigers, did no leaping - I was far too exhausted - I did manage some gorging on amazing food - the apple pies! - on the way), sung songs with drunken Chinese tourists, got my bag back from it's unscheduled stopover in Bangkok (can't blame it for wanting to stay a bit longer in Thailand, it's *my* bag after all), fought the crowds at Chengdu to see the pandas, and finally flew into Tibet (or the Tibet Autonomous Region - we're still in China - really!) and met up with my lovely friend Sam.

I've been taking lots of pictures but I've forgotten my USB cable so you'll just have to take my word for it - will update later.

On the surface it's hard to come up with two places more different than Egypt and Tibet. One, hot, chaotic, overcrowed, Muslim, heavy with the weight of it's place in history, male, independent and full of tourists, quietly decaying. The other, cold, isolated, open - in space and in mind, overlooked by history for most of it's existance and still mostly forgotten now, Buddhist, peaceful, invaded and colonised, rapidly 'developing'.

The thing is though, I keep finding all sorts of similarities - and not just with the rather relaxed approach to public hygeine. Both countries are populated with proud and graceful people, for whom religion is inextricable from themselves and their daily lives, both countries are have overcrowded capitals that are magnets for people from all over the country and harsh country-sides with long nomadic traditions.

Plus there's a common desire in both places to keep pet dogs tied up and cats in cages, and to 'play' with them by - in Egypt - hitting them with sticks, and - in Tibet - by throwing stones at them.

It's been lovely to meet up with Sam, she's been here 3 months now and has made a lovely home for herself. She knows her way around everywhere, and can distinguish the small comunity of ex-pat residents from the tourists (and can also helpfully point out the missonary Christians to avoid). She's introduced me to *the* cafe in Lhasa that has an expresso machine. I'm there at the moment - sipping a tall iced latte as we speak.

A lot of jaded 'travellers' don't like Lhasa. In fact they're determined not to like it even before they get here. The problem is that nowhere else in the country is the Chinese presence so clearly visable. Lhasa is still Tibetan, but it would be wrong to call it a Tibetan city. Probably though this is cos there never was such a thing as a Tibetan city - before the Takeover, Lhasa might have been the seat of government and a place of pilgramage (among many) but it was never large enough to gain city status. The Lhasa of today is definitly one, but if you took away all the Chinese, they'd be very little beyond the Potala left. I think it's hard for travellers who like to keep their rose-coloured glasses intact. Tibet *is* an occupied nation, and the state of Lhasa makes it clear that this isn't going to end any time soon, and (even harder for the rainbow people to deal with) even if the miracle occured and Beijing pulled out, Tibet would never be the same.

I don't mean to downplay the 'Tibetan question' by making it seem that the problem is all in the eyes of the travellers; I only want to explain why I'm so in love with Lhasa. It's the vital and energetic continuous of Tibetan life - the pilgrims prostraiting themselves around the temples, the country people marvelling at the shops and cars and forgeigners (and their weird hair!), the freshly churned yak butter on sale, and the updated traditional robes worn with matching chinese cardigans. Tibet may be occupied but it's not going to be drowned without a fight.