Corrupted, But Still Profound

Fifty years of control and influence have altered a very ancient civilization, but the customs and traditions of Tibet continue with a hardened resilence. The Chinese have built roads, airports, shopping malls, restaurants, sewage systems, and monuments, but the Tibetans continue to honor and worship the Gods of Buddhism with age old rituals, and drink yak butter tea, a staple of high altitude living. The worn look of the Tibetans runs deep in their veins, and one can only hope that the thoughness and persistence will carry on for yet another eternity.


After thoroughly exploring the multitudes of street vendors and maze-like alleys, the next morning we ventured over to Jokhang Temple. It initially appeared plain and relatively ordinary from the outside. The golden rooftop and bells provide the only real accenuation, and they're partially hidden from the courtyard situated at the entrance. Only from the roof, and the chapels buried inside, can a real appreciation of the temple be found. Just outside the large doors leading into an inner courtyard, devout pilgrims, monks, and visitors pray to the various icons of Buddhist theology. They lay a blanket along the ground, and with gloves or wooden blocks attached to their hands, transition from a standing position to one flush with the ground. They lay on the ground for only an instant before pushing their bodies back to an erect stance, and then continue the process again. It seemed like a hard and painful process, yet even the very old seemed to partake.

After entering the structure, and moving beyond the inner courtyard, a path can be followed that circles the center chapels. Here, countless prayer wheels wait for devoutees to pass by and spin the tall, gold colored cylinders. It seemed as if some pilgrims followed this path countless times, pushing the wheels into motion, and chanting prayers in various decibel levels.
All of this generated intrigue and facination, but the large inner sanctuary provided a glimpse into the profound wonder that still thrives within Lhasa. A small hallway leads inward from the modest entrance, and then pours into a massive room filled with giant sculptures of three Buddhist Gods, giant pots of bellowing incense, ornate decorations, and a large sitting area for the monks that pray within the temple. As pictures were prohibited in the chapels, it's simply a sight that needs to be seen to be believed and understood. Other chapels and shrines surround the main room, and directly behind the Buddha Gods, a small room filled with incredible intricate golden alters and statues completes inner sanctuaries of this amazing temple. This final room escaped our presence, as a line that would rival the one for Mr. Toad's Wild Ride at Disney Land snaked through the primary chapel, through the narrow hallway, out the entrance, and into depths beyond human conception. Yes, it was long, and we had more Tibetan street vendors to haggle with.

From Jokhang Temple, we optimistically meneuvered from the nestled locale of the holiest temple in Lhasa, to Potala Temple. Potala is a foreboding, exceptionally massive structure rising from the streets of Lhasa into the thin Tibetan air. It took over fifty years to construct, and it easily elicites such an effort. Not to be overtly self-righteous, but I actually built a temple like this in my backyard as a young and aspiring architect, and it only took me about six days. But I also had a power drill and as many strawberry waffles as I could eat. The Tibetans probably used sticks and square wheels, so their accomplishment may, after some deliberation and reflection, represent something somewhat more impressive. Anyway, it's quite profound. After walking aimlessly back and forth along the sidewalk in the front, we worked our way into the gate skirting the side of the complex. After climbing half way up the pathway leading to the temple, we realized that this path was actually the exit, and were forced to descend the same way. Arriving at the bottom, we discovered that tickets for the temple were very difficult to come by, and that the long line of people waiting at the ticket counter weren't there for a social gathering, or a congo line, but were prepared to sacrefice hours of their lives for tickets to the temple the following day. This was quite preturbing. While waiting in the hot sun for relative eons sounding intriguing, we decided to return the next day, and acquire tickets some other way.

Return to this blog in the following days for more long winded travel information.