China

Enter the Dragon

The compartment was small. The lively chatter consumed the remaining air. Time was suspended, irrelevant, in trance I watched images of Mongolia flicker through my mind, and it was difficult to process it all… The iron beast could not care a less; and suddenly I was sucked back to reality waving my tatty passport in my hand. Beast had one objective, one only, to go east at all costs. We sat helpless and confined and watched our newly found freedom disappear into the horizon, not even the Khan’s hordes could have kept up.

We knew we had traded the openness and isolation for mega cities and an eternity of people; it was as if every grain of Gobi sand turned into a living being.

As we neared the nucleus of the hive the activity became frantic, they all knew their purpose and all played their part. In the safety of our compartment we watched it all fly by, like a vivid day dream.

Gone the thousands of rocks that lay undisturbed, gone the sand that crawled into everything, gone the smiles, all gone. Concrete, chaos and confusion followed. The iron beast tired and out of breath, hissed and complained and finally in a great final effort, spat us all out. We stood there, wobbly legs and heavy bags, drowning in a sea of faces. We struggled with the incessant current, keeping our eyes on the sun. Suddenly, we were bathed in sunlight and in the heart of the dragon.

The first couple of days we did not venture to far from our Hutton, so in the alleyways of outer Beijing, we gorged on ripe oranges and bulging bananas, we walked from restaurant to restaurant and before we knew it we were in the flow, lured by all the shiny fancy things.

It was unbelievable to be under the gates of the Forbidden City, with ol’ Mao looking down. It was invigorating to be amongst the hordes and be swept up by the euphoria. I struggled to understand why he is still such an icon; it was dumbfounding to realize how much freedom I have had in my life! Here in the nucleus of the hive the ghost of the Chairman is still in command, sending messages to the masses, telepathically, demanding and punishing.

It was all so intense, so hurried and chaotic, it was an intense culture shock; it was overwhelming, and totally confusing. It was tough to come to grips with the way of life, from eating habits to the public toilets. It seemed as if you could not say a word, you could not make yourself understood, it all just built up, and there was no release.

We were aware the people here, lived in virtual fear of their government. I did not arrive in China, totally ignorant of what was going on, though I hid behind this disguise for the duration of our stay. It irritated me that nobody dared to question, it bothered me that such vast numbers of people didn’t care, they just want to live in the reality that feeds and houses them. The longer we lingered, the harsh realities of the Chinese people became more and more evident.

However, walking towards the great wall, my political rantings dissipated and my mind was transported to another time. It reminded me of the reason why I am here. If only these stones could speak.

10 000 no’s later, the postcard ladies finally understood, victorious, we watched them sit in submission and slowly their hunched bodies faded into the dust. My mind went to the Mongolian hordes, how confusing it must have been, the mental power required to ride such an arduous journey and then fight a battle. Suddenly I was impressed by the sheer scale of the task. The wall was simply amazing, a true testament of the resolve of the Chinese people.

Back in the familiar hutton, we sat silently and watched the never ending stream of people pass by, we were both thinking the same thing, it was enough, the masses were to overwhelming and we craved to see the horizon.

The road West was littered with small cities, millions of people swarmed to these epicenters.

Slowly, slowly these monstrosities melted and slowly, slowly the mountains drew nearer. Nothing could have prepared me for the sheer contrasts. The ethnic diversity left us dumbfounded. It truly felt like I had caught a glimpse of what lies beneath the thick skin of the dragon.

Incense smoke danced and twirled in the crisp mountain air, the sound of low steady chanting penetrated the silence. The prayer wheels spun relentlessly, as hundreds of pilgrims, novices, people and monks walked their daily Kora around the monastery. The Kora around Lebram monastery is about three kilometers, not to mention over 2800 prayer wheels to turn. By the end I was tired and all out of prayers, but felt like a load had been lifted off my shoulders. It seemed like the sea of blank stares dried up, replaced by eyes that sparkled and smiles that beamed.

However, idyllic as it was, the flood of Han Chinese to the west is relentless; nothing can stand in its way. Bright eyed novices loitered outside the yak smelling cafes, many were from remote areas and this was their first time to see many shiny fancy things, cell phones aside, being a monk might be the only way these boys might survive and be educated, so the stakes are high. Sadly, I got the feeling Buddha was losing more and more souls.

It was fascinating to learn about the ways of the Buddha, it was invigorating to experience such a strong faith first hand. However, I could not help but feel sad for these people who clung on by a finger nail to their culture and way of life.

Vultures danced on the thermals, keeping a beady eye on the burial site, prayer flags twittered and fluttered in the strong wind, my nostrils burned as I took deep crisp mountain breaths. I was fascinated by the scale of the Tibetan plateau, I wondered if I would ever see Tibet, or like my children only read about it, in the dusty pages of history books.

At Roses café we devoured our Yak burgers in silence, it was quite a feast. Over mint tea we discussed our route south. Tibet would have to wait but the seed had been planted.

Our sleeping coffins roared through the night, the smell of 40 pairs of feet mingled with the thick cigarette smoke, we too followed the swarm to the epicenter. It was clear that in most of these epicenters, culture and tradition had been replaced by other priorities.

However, we continued to be amazed by many incredibly beautiful places on our way south to the border of Vietnam. Holy mountains, mystical tiger leaping gorges, roaring rivers, limestone landscapes, to name a few filled our days. Though still frenzied, the country atmosphere still came through. With the feet of the Tibetan plateau now just a memory we were busily getting ready to leave.

I was keen to leave; the last couple of months really opened my eyes. I was brimming over with questions, I was craving information. It was incredible to think, in all that time, I rarely spoke to a single person. Communism is definitely dead in China, now the masses are driving the great push west. Crossing over to Vietnam, it felt like was being released from captivity, it dawned on me how many people would love to have that privilege, to leave when they had enough.