The Potala Palace – A home that once was

When one thinks of Lhasa, the first thing that comes to mind, almost instantaneously, is the majestic Potala.

The construction of this white multi-leveled and multi-structured building with red and gold rooftops commenced back in the 7th century and it served as a Tibetan government house and the home of his Holiness – the Dalai Lama.

The walls of the Potala tower over the city of Lhasa and stretch high into the mountain

Potala was named after a holy hill in South India and it is a Sanskrit word which means ‘Abode of the Buddha of Compassion.’

This magnificent building measures 400m in length, with sloping stone walls averaging 3m in thickness (not your average home) and with copper poured into the foundations to help proof it against earthquakes. Once you get closer you notice that the isolation is due to millions of thin branches tied together and compressed into the building material to keep the living quarters warm during the painfully cold winters.

The Potala is comprised of thirteen stories of buildings – containing over 1,000 rooms, 10,000 shrines and about 200,000 statues – soaring 117m on top of Marpo Ri, the “Red Hill”, rising more than 300m in total above the valley floor.

It is a true architectural marvel which has been standing strong for centuries. Today, it is no longer used for its intended purpose and serves as a museum for thousands of tourists and pilgrims who visit the Potala each year.

It also serves as a reminder of what this city used to be like and the spiritual power that once sat there overlooking the city of Lhasa in the valley below.

As we climbed up the steep steps to reach the main building we couldn’t help but remember and show compassion for all those who have done so in the past with the intend to visit all the reincarnations of the Dalai Lama who were educated, who slept, eat and meditated in this very building. Given that the palace is located at 3,700m above sea level, the climb was tough and the workers, the monks and Tibetan people who worked and visited this place must have done this exact climb many times each and every day.

Pilgrims resting before attempting a climb up the Potala stairs

Walking up and knowing that the Dalai Lama was not there was saddening but the place had an mysterious aura surrounding it, making the butterflies in our stomachs flutter with excitement on what we will find up there. But despite its great isolation and the burning incense and butter lamp offerings around us, the building felt cold and lonely.

The architecture is breathtaking. The tall white walls stretch up into the sky and you don’t see the decoration of the courtyards until you are on the very inside of the building (at which point they kindly warn you to put away all cameras and phones).

Its walls are painted in vivid colours and lively patters explaining various stories and historical moments. All the doors are covered in fabrics with the Buddhist symbols for eternity before which bells are hung for pilgrims to ring and they enter the individual chambers. The details didn’t seize to amaze us. Behind each door there was something else, something more breathtaking, worth a picture, worth a memory which would be locked inside our minds forever.

The door handles were a golden dragons from which colourful rainbow ribbons hung low. Children would use these are they entered the rooms and touch the ribbons to their foreheads instead of prostrating like the grown-ups did.

Everything was charged with colour and detail, so much to take in, so much to notice. I remember thinking “not enough time, not enough lifetimes”.

Today the top of the Potala has a PRC flag instead of the colorful Tibetan one which once stood on the top

The golden Buddha-like statues towered above us with their turquoise eyes, red coral decorations and surrounded by precious stones and other gemstones found in this mountainous land. We were told these statues were all the reincarnations of Dalai Lama and each of them had their own room, dedicated only to them, decorated only with their own possessions. Each one had its own story – each one stranger and more interesting than the one before.

The large halls smelled of melting butter and the musky smell of closed spaces made us dizzy (the altitude didn’t help). Each room was different. Each room served a purpose and had a name, a story, its own history and these we retold by all the tour guides in various languages.

The place though, no matter how breathtaking, felt like a ghost house – filled with tourists and guides. If it wasn’t for the numerous pilgrims making their way through the crowds and showering the statues with white scarfs (which are traditionally given as a sign of good omen and blessing) and money, chanting as they passed by, counting their prayer beads and spinning their prayer wheels, we would have felt like we were in a museum.

The crowds were incredible though. Watching them, their passion, their motivation and concentration was inspiring. You could feel their energy and love, a complete sense of peace surrounding the premises.

We almost felt like ghosts, intruders, walking through somebody’s property, someone’s sacred space, something we don’t fully understand which was for us, a breathtaking piece of art.

One of the original stupas surrounding the Potala

The Potala was first UNESCO listed in 1994 and this listing spread further to include some of the most significant temples in Lhasa.

Today, it is a tourist spot for people from all corners of the world eager to tick-off another UNESCO heritage site on their bucket list, the ones who are just curious to see what the fuss is about or wonderers of the word, like us, who want to try to understand, remember and feel the importance of this palace and how it moulded the culture of this far away place, such a long time ago… for eternity.

Holy Lhasa

Time flew by, as we crossed this enormous country, making our way from Nepal to the capital of Tibet.

Each city we stopped in, we overheard people talking about Lhasa, telling us stories and myths. It was surprising how very few actually visited the capital and how many had the motivation to do their annual pilgrimage in this holy city.

Pilgrims from Eastern Tibet with their colorful fashion visit the holy city

Unlike the other Tibetan cities, we seemed to be entering Lhasa for a long time – passing through the industrial zone, the huge car salons and the warehouses lined along the main road. We told ourselves we picked a good time to come visit Tibet (Chinese New Year) since all the factories were closed for the week and most of the population had gone to other parts of China while many East Tibetans were visiting Lhasa for their annual pilgrimage.

The feeling of excitement fluttering inside our bellies was growing with each passing street as we were making our way towards the city center. The guide was explaining that the city’s inner circle is one large area the locals would use for their morning koras (praying and prostrations around the city in clockwise direction). It has a very large circumference  so it could take people an entire day to cover. It was our first glimpse into the religious passion of this city.

The streets were buzzing with life and we were happy to find out that our hotel was in the very heart of the action, located in one of the small side alleys, just behind the main square. We could hardly wait to leave our luggage and explore it.

Dharma symbol towering over Lhasa's main square

Lhasa literally means ‘the city of gods’ and being one of the highest cities in the world (it sits at 3,490m or 11,450ft) we could see why. There was a majestic feel to the place and as dusk was drawing near, we headed to Barkhor city square and the Jokhang Market. All we knew was that we had to walk in the direction that everyone else walked.

“Just follow the masses” our guide said. We knew this meant clockwise direction but were not prepared for what we were about to see.

The Jokhang Temple was located in the middle of the Barkhor Square, surrounded by small stalls selling religious relics and thousands of people. We immediately spotted it without having to refer to any maps. This temple has remained a key center of Buddhist pilgrimage for centuries. The kora was marked by four large stone incense burners placed at the corners of the temple complex. The rooftop was gold in colour and had a huge statue of Dharma (two deers flanking a Dharma wheel) overlooking the front entrance of the temple.

After all we read, all the research we did, all the locals we talked to, nothing could have prepared us for the sight of hundreds of people prostrating all around the square and right in front of the sacred temple. Elderly and children, men and women. They all had plastic bags wrapped around their hands and dark marks on their foreheads so when their bodies would make contact with the floor, belly-down, their arms would come above their heads and their foreheads would gently touch the cold pavement, leaving a dark mark.

View from the top of the temple

The prostration was very similar to any religious prayer but this one would start with kneeling and then placing the entire top part of the body on the floor. The individual would be completely stretched out on the floor and would bring their arms up above their head, palm touching right above the head.

They would get back on their knees and stand up straight with their hands in prayer position before attempting the same motion a few meters ahead. And this would happen all around the square many times.

The routine reminded me a little of my sun salutation in yoga and sent shivers down my spine to see so many people in such passionate religious sync.

As we climbed the top of the temple to get a birds eye view we just saw a mish-mash of colours and synchronized movements. The chanting sound of the prayers was like a buzz of melodies and I closed my eyes to feel the cold air on my face and the smell of fire burning and incense.

The sensation kept us warm and brought upon us a strange sense of calmness and peace.

Eating our way through Tibet

Tibet is not notoriously well known for its food. After all, 4000m above sea level, other than yak meat and barley there is not much you can find. It’s one of the most inhospitable environments barely allowing anything to grow at such low temperatures. Many times we wondered how the people survived and what they eat so high up in the mountains.

Tibetan momos with chilly

Having said that, I had some of the most delicious momos (yak meat filled boiled and steamed dumplings) and butter tea in this country.

One thing I would not recommend is yak cheese which is a hard, dried substance, intended for continuous chewing rather than eating (somewhat of a Tibetan chewing gum).

With the arrival of the Chinese and infrastructural development (the roads are amazing!) more and more foreign produce started coming into the cities. Rice, fruits and vegetables, meat and even snacks like cookies and juice were available in at least one store in each town.

While tourists tend to be weary of what they consume when traveling (always drink bottled water, never eat off the streets and always ask for ‘less spicy’) we tried to keep up with the locals and order what our guide was having rather than going to ‘westernized’ restaurants and ordering fried rice and stir-fried veggies – not very Tibetan at all.

We had barley in the morning, chai during the day and yak meat prepared in various ways across all meals.

I must admit that yak meat was one of the tastiest meats I have ever tried and each meal was an adventure of its own – yak steaks, yak momos, fried yak, yak meat soups.

In the olden days the locals were very innovative and even to this day say that yaks can be used in 1000 ways – its meat for food, its skin for building tents, its bones were weapons, its horns were instruments and religious relics etc.

In Shigatse, after a day full of various visits to the temples, monasteries and the local market  at -20 degrees C, we thought we’d better find a warm place to sit and have something to eat.

At the entrance of the street we saw a cloth door with a Buddhist eternity symbol on it – as each door would have in Tibet. We heard noises from the outside and saw the steam evaporating as people would enter and exit.

We pushed the curtain door aside and stepped into the warm, 4 by 4 meter room. It was filled with old tables and benches and a cooker in the very middle which reminded me of something my grandgrandparents used to keep the rooms warm and cook on. The stove was burning hot and the room was a pleasant temperature.

Ladies laughing at our use of chopsticks

A lady, in her colourful long skirt and jacket was poking the fire with a metal rod, occasionally throwing in yak dung. There were two large pots on the stove which she was monitoring, occasionally stirring the content, looking at us as we entered. You could tell that not many foreigners came here. It was a small local place, where the neighbours would come to have a few momos and listen to the radio.

After several minutes of waiting the lady put two plates in front of us and spoke to us in a language we didn’t need to know to figure out she wasn’t talking about the weather. We pointed to the pots on the stove and said “momos”. A smile crossed her face and she immediately disappeared coming back shortly filling up the two plates in front of us with steaming Tibetan dumpings.

There must have been 8 other people in the restaurant. One of them was a child who was playing on the floor, in its thick one-piece red winter jumpsuit. Everyone at that point was looking at us – we smile back and grabbed our chopsticks, attempting to grab the slippery momos with the plastic sticks. Our countless unsuccessful attempts seemed to entertain them and suddenly the people in the shop started to laugh and speak loudly amongst each other. The atmosphere relaxed and we also started to laugh at our clumsiness out loud. You’d think that years of living in Asia would have taught us to use the chopsticks.

The lady who served us jumped up and brought metal forks, gently placing them on the table, trying not to offend us but smiling at the same time, as if she couldn’t hold herself.

The little boy in the restaurant

We thanked her and smiled – happily stabbing at our food, our mouths watering. Everyone grinned and watched us as we eat and we made funny “mmm-this-is-so-good expressions with our face” further entertaining the little boy who seemed to be enjoying the performance.

The dumpings, dipped in chilly, melted inside the mouth, slowly revealing the yummy taste of salty meat, cooked to perfection. The lady poured some tea from the pot on the table for us to warm up further, but at this point the hot tea was unnecessary. We had already warmed up and were making friends in this little shop in a random alley over a bowl of momos and unsuccessfully-used chopsticks.

Meeting Shigatse

As we entered the deserted city, we could hear nothing but the sound of the wind. The dusty roads were wide and empty under the perfectly blue skies. The snow-topped mountains were towering over us as we drove into Shigatse, the second largest city in Tibet and the home to the Panchen Lama (currently based in Beijing).

Golden rooftops of the monastery shining above the city

After a fairly long ride through what seemed to be the first sign of civilization we had seen for a long time, the bus stopped in front of a small inn. Everyone was happy to find out that this place (unlike all the others we stayed in during our trip) had hot water. It didn’t have heating but hot water was a start. The locals mentioned that as you travel towards Lhasa, the infrastructure gets better, the hotels become more touristy and yes, you find hot water and heating in most places. Shigatse was basic but beautiful.

Since we arrived in the early morning hours, we were told that we would have 2 full days to explore the city. Immediately, we took out our maps, compasses, Tibetan phrase books and equipped with wooly hats and sunscreen (our Lonely Planets and other guide books were taken at the border of Nepal and Tibet).

Meeting new friends in Shigatse

The first stop was the monastery on top of a hill called Tashilhunpo which was the original home to the Panchen Lama and a sacred place for many of the town ceremonies. It was comprised of over 20 different buildings which were built very similarly and all had beautiful golden rooftops. The visit to the monastery itself was scheduled for the afternoon as it was closed that morning but we were told to follow the locals and observe their morning ritual.

As we were told, we circled the monastery, always in the clockwise direction, spinning the golden prayer wheels, following the locals who were carrying their prayer beads and humming their prayers softly.

Thousands of golden prayer wheels towering the town of Shigatse

The line of golden prayer wheels continued as we climbed further up, becoming suddenly aware of the altitude and trying to keep one foot in front of the other while spinning the wheels in the clockwise direction.

The sun was reflected in the golden rooftops and we could see the reflection of the perfectly blue sky in the prayer wheels themselves. Other than the incredible cold weather, which was making out skin ache, the air was perfectly fresh and you could hear the bird twitter in the background as well as the occasional rooster.

As we climbed up, prayer flags, hung low, fluttered around our heads and as we made our way around the monastery, every once in a while, we sat on one of the large stones, resting and catching our breath.

On the way up, we saw a mother holding a bundled child (barely 3 or 4 years of age), sitting next to the prayer wheels, spinning a hand wheel of her own. You could tell that she was young but skin was wrinkled and sore from the cold. Her lips were cracked and she was speaking to the everyone who passed by. The locals would pass and give her money as they continued to spin their wheels, focusing their energy on the climb.

Women spinning the prayer wheels as they climb up and around the monastery

Very seldom, we take out the camera to capture portraits of people without asking their permission. This time round, we took out our large white polaroid camera and gestured to as the woman if we can take a picture of her and her son. She didn’t seem to object so we clicked away. The camera made a strange noise and a white piece of paper emerged from it. The woman stared and we started to shake the paper, trying to keep it away from sunlight. Within a few seconds the image started to appear and she was looking carefully at the image and then at us. Within half a minute you could distinctly see her and her sun smiling in the shot and she laughed. I took her hand and put the picture in her palm. She looked puzzled as we put our hands together and bowed slowly, thanking her for letting us take the picture.

This must have been one of the most memorable events of the entire trip and I remember sitting on a stone thinking how little it takes for people to be happy and what a materially simple yet complicated life these people live.

Tibet – The Magical Land Part 2

As we stepped into Tibet, suddenly the world around us changed. The border towns became grayer and the rocks around us seem to have gotten larger and larger.

Out of the blue, we stopped seeing greenery.

We drove for a few hours across very nicely paved roads – not a bump in site, towards a border town – Nyalam where we arrived at dusk and for the first time saw wild yaks – huge hairy animals looking like cows with massive horns.

Freezing at -26 degrees C - Honeymoon or is this the moon?

The first night was the toughest, sleeping at 3700m altitude, afraid to doze off in case we stop breathing. We stayed in a big hostel, sharing rooms with other tourists, keeping warm by staying close together in a sleeping bag made for -20 degrees C.

We soon found out that none of the hotels in Tibet had any form of heating – ‘be careful what you wish for’ came to mind. The nights were extremely cold and during the day we continuously had to move, feeling we would freeze if we stood in one place, and out of sunshine for too long.

Our first night was restless, some of our fellow travelers were experiencing altitude sickness and ironically, we were experiencing the symptoms of the anti-AMS (acute mountain sickness) medication including tinkling sensation in our fingers, headaches, dizziness etc. Hardly anyone got sleep that night. It was the highest altitude we both ever slept at.

Perfectly blue skies over Yamdrok Lake

The following day we stopped taking the medication and both got better taking in the wonderful landscapes on our way to our next adventure – the city of Lhatse.

The most shocking aspect of the scenery was the surface of the terrain. It looked like the moon. With the Himalayas in the background and perfectly blue, cloudless sky, the place looked like no other place on earth.

Rocks, of all formations and sizes stretched across thousands of kilometers, without a plant in site. Only wild horses, yaks and scatters herds of sheep crossing the occasional frozen river.

As we continued to drive deeper into the country, we saw the occasional signboard in Chinese and a few flags along the road but hardly saw any life. In the middle of the far-away mountains, we could spot a few distant villages comprising of several small mud houses and strangely colorful decoration. Another instant realization was the piles of rock, mounted on top of each other which we later found out were small stupas – mound-like structures containing Buddhist relics which pilgrims would put together.

Tibetan prayer flags

We crossed high passes noticing many prayer flags – colorful cotton flags with printed sutras originating from the Bon religion swaying in the wind. According to the tradition the people would tie the flags to banners at high altitudes, tops of buildings or templates and across bridges so that the wind and water would carry the prayers.

Only later we learned that the intense culture, colorful national costumes, prayer flags and brightly painted houses were all a part of the nations desperate need to transform what in fact was a monotonous and grey environment into something happier and more lively.

However, seeing the landscapes with traveler’s eyes, everything seemed beautiful – the perfect curvy roads, the snowy mountain tops, the frozen waterfalls and the blue cloudless skies.

As we approached our first bigger city, we were excited and nervous looking forward to our first encounter with the Tibetan society.

Tibet – The Magical Land Part 1

For years have have been thinking about the ideal trip – one that we would make somewhere where not many people go and do something we would be able to tell our grandkids about one day.

That day had finally come. Four months after our wedding (and what an amazing wedding it was), we finally decided to dust our luggage and set off for the long awaited honey moon.

But the good spirit is there so excited for Tibet we climb up

Given that most people would most likely head to exotic destinations, somewhere by the beach, under a palm tree where they can smell the sea and taste coconut, we, as usual and much to everyone’s shock, headed in the opposite direction – towards the mountains.

Living on a tropical island (in Singapore) is easy, the altitude is pleasant and you are constantly surrounded by sea. Since we don’t get to experience seasons, temperature changes or high mountains, we wanted to get away from it all and headed from the lowest towards the highest point of our planet – the divine Himalayas.

We landed in Nepal, where our journey towards our final destination – Tibet started.

Mountains have, in the last few years, become a sort of passion for both of us – most probably because we don’t have any in Singapore and because we both miss them as natural orientation tools.

We departed Kathmandu before sunrise and headed towards the eastern border of Nepal and China which was a day drive from the capital. The excited was high as we got closer towards the land which was one an independent state and is today the biggest province of People’s Republic of China.

The drive was pleasant and cool. It took us along narrow roads, over green mountains, ascending above the pollution of the city. We were happy to wear long sleeved shirts and after a long time travel across a country where the temperature dropped below 27 degrees C.

We faced our first challenge of the trip before we even landed in Nepal. Apparently, it seems that the Chinese government didn’t like honeymooners parading around Tibet. We found out that if any one wants to cross over into Tibet, from Nepal, they need a tourist visa (which was expected) and they need to travel in a group (not expected).

As you can imagine we were not very thrilled by the fact that we would be traveling 16 other honey moon crashers but if that was the only way we could make it into Tibet, we would make peace with it. We decided that we might as well look on the bright side and hope that we would meet some interesting people along the way.

Besides, we couldn’t fight the system which has been in place since the 80’s, when the first foreign visitors were allowed into the country.

The second challenge of the trip came our way as we approached the border which was packed with cars, buses and hundreds of people attempting to cross the massive river dividing the two nations.

Empty roads through Tibet from Nepal

We were told, a few minutes before we reached the border, what the Chinese government did and didn’t allow brought into the country. It was not very useful as we were all packed and were thoroughly inspected. Needless to say that all our books about Tibet, it’s history and our Lonely Planets in English were all confiscated on the spot.

We had been warned that if anyone was to bring a photo of Dalai Lama, we would all be in deep trouble and most probably stuck on the border for days.

We all made it through, with our A4 piece of paper permits and a blank passports. There was no evidence we ever made it to Tibet but we were happy to be on our way to Lhasa – the forbidden city.

Since the early 80’s when these Chinese first opened their borders with Tibet for foreign tourists, very few people have seen the Tibetan plateau. It being on the highest point in the world and one of the most hardest places to reach didn’t help.

Many foreigners attempted to enter Lhasa and see its famous golden rooftops but most of them never made it to the city and those who did, didn’t survive on their way back home.

These stories inspired us to see for ourselves why this land was so mystical.

Across the Himalayan mountain chain

Despite having our books taken away and the rigorous checks and controls by the border patrol we decided to put aside the bureaucratic challenges and keep an open mind.

And so we, together with 16 other strangers, crossed the Nepal-China border into magical Tibet.