I am thinking about Tibet today. I spent part of my summer there, learning about the people and the culture and experimenting with different remedies for altitude sickness. Even in the oldest parts of town, there was internet access, cell phone access and cable TV. Apparently that is gone now. There are no pictures. I worry that the violence may give the Chinese all the justification they need to completely overrun and revoke anything autonomous in what still the Tibet Autonomous Region.
In Tibet, tourists are advised not to mention the Dali Lama. Tourists are advised to go as far as to rip pages out of their Western guidebooks that mention anything about Tibet’s history with the Chinese. Most importantly, tourists are told never to talk with locals about politics or religion. To do so, the guidebooks say, is to put the lives of your guests in danger.
Last summer, the lines were long to enter Potala Palace in the center of Lhasa. We made small talk with our guide, but finally we ran out of things to say. Then he looked up at the palace and shook his head. “Look what they have done to this most holy place. ” He spoke softly, but still loud enough for us to hear. We all looked at each other and we didn’t know if we should respond or even if he wanted us to respond. We got nervous.
To an American or Western reader, this may sound silly or melodramatic, but it’s not. Back in Beijing, we studied Chinese law, with professors who openly questioned their country’s legal system and ticked off on their fingers the many legal loopholes around the “one child per family rule.” But Tibet is different. There is a tension between the Tibetan people and the Han Chinese that even a camera toting tourist can feel.
“They have taken this most holy place and they have desecrated it,” he said, I think to himself. “The army has made offices here. It is not a place for an army.”
During our time in Tibet, we learned that our guide had originally wanted to be a monk. He had gone to India to study with the Dali Lama, but clearly something happened and he was now a tour guide. I thought perhaps he had to leave the monetary to support his family. He never spoke of them. We never asked. We spoke in code a lot of the time. We asked him to show us “authentic” Tibetan shops where we could buy “authentic” Tibetan souvenirs. The guidebooks advise tourists that the best way to help the Tibetan people is to patronize their shops and restaurants. Walking through the old square, the untrained eye can’t tell the difference between the locally run and the Chinese knockoff shops. We did travel to what our guide called “Chinatown,” the ultra modern section of the city with shopping malls, Western style hotels and wide paved boulevards. In this part of town, close your eyes and you could be anywhere in the world.
We saw monks everywhere, although we were told that the Chinese government has placed a legal limit on how many Tibetans may enter the monestaries. Our guide led us through sparsely populated prayer and study halls telling us that once, long ago, these rooms had been packed with students. I don’t think he was bitter, I think he was sad. Just very very sad.
the new york times puts out the call for pictures here