Where ever you go… There you are.

After a much day of needed rest, we (luis, me, and the lovely french couple, jennifer and jullian) get up at the crack of dawn to catch yet another invisible bus to the crossroads some 7km away, hopefully from there we can catch a bus heading to Tingri, about 60kms aways.

The extension visa Luis and I had gained has now been renamed the “Tension Visa”, sure you can have the extra days but you will pay for it dearly, in mental health and in the pocketbook.

We do catch the bus to the cross thank goodness, and before the sun has properly risen, or the people for that matter, we retreat into a tea house, sheltered from the morning coldness,

we wait.

Outside the tea shop sits a group of nomads, warming their bo-cha (yak butter tea) on a yak chip fire. I have had enough of the conversation inside (do you think a bus is coming? When? How? AHHHH. I can almost take no more!) I decide to hang outside with the nomads, offering them cigarettes, I am instantly a good friend and within minutes, I am choking down bowls of butter tea, and chewy tsampa. With a big smile of course..

Trying to explain our situation in sign language, and still very limited tibetan. It seems that they are in the same situation waiting for a bus.. As the morning gets a bit warmer, I am antsy and break out the good ol frisbee for a little in the road pick up game. I start playing with Jullian, but then the nomads want to play, and we get a good toss in. I believe that would be the a first time a Tibetan has seen a frisbee, at least they are a bit more self-explanitory 🙂

While I have been playing, Luis has negotiated for a tractor to take us the 60kms south to Tingri.. That Luis, always on the move, had I travelled to Tibet alone I would have seen, much, much less.. Part of the deal is that we have to walk about 2km out of town, and then the tractor will take us. So we grab our packs and start the walk out of town..

Seated in the tractor, next to bags full of look-sha (a frozen dried sheep carcass) we ride the 60km to Tingri, in the backs of our minds something will go wrong, but this time it doesn’t and we are depostited in Tingri at a reasonable hour and, for the first hour while the rest are off looking for hotel rooms, I watch how they make look-sha,

When the sheep has been killed they pump it up with the air from a bicycle pump so the sheep looks very floaty, I think you could count these sheep as they drift above your head before sleep. Then, with the help of a little kid the dad cuts the skin away from the carcass and then it dries in the frigid air, becoming that delicious, dried meat Look-sha..

Yummy.

In Shegar things go on as I would guess they did hundreds of years ago, the local people use a horse and cart to get around.. The ponies are decorated with tassles and bells, a stiking resemblance to the owners themselves sometimes.

The men sit proudly with their hair braided with the dyed red yak wool and sheep horn that has been polished into a huge bead woven into their hair.

The children with painfully dirty faces and shy smiles sit with grandma in the cart, next to carcasses of Look-sha a freeze/air dried sheep cadaver(definatley an aquired taste.) and grain bags filled to the brim with yak chips for fuel.

Too many days of rushing here and there have taken a toll on my usual sunny dispostion, and a day in the mountains is always well appreciated, with a whole lovely day of not having to worry about how in the world we get to the next town before our deadline I am elated.

Do I see a Kora?!

YAY!

Slowly I make my way up the crevice of the mountain, pausing for breaths looking at the scenery unveiling itself as I climb higher. Carins on the right of the path to help find the way.

The path gets gnarlier and the breath gets shorter but the revealing montain tops with every step encourages me on the ascent.

At the top prayer flags are strewn between the peaks and the ancient Crystal palace looms above my head. I spend a while just looking at the valley and the tiny towns sprinkled throughout the horizon.

The kora leading down the mountain goes straight across a chilly mountain river and I am forced to go across with bare feet, December… Ice… Snow… Yikes! inviorgationg to say the least.

A lovely old woman in wellies helps take my hand as I fumble across, the other villagers look on amused as always, and with her help I am safely on the other side..

Later in the evening, I have a grand idea. The moon would be full and I climb to the top of a hill, high enough to overlook the city and have an unobrstucted view of the mountains,

As the sky begins to darken, the cold sets in and the stars begin to shine.

I sit shivering in the dusk.

But not for long, as the moons glow starts to light up the crystal palace and the hills behind me. I put on some music and start dancing to keep warm.

Hello solo-dance party.

My spirits are higher than they have been for days, a huge grin on my face awaiting the moon. I am thinking of my friends in London and Chicago, and looking around at the burningmanesque moonscape wishing they could be here with me dancing on this mountain.

The illuminatiion creeps in around me as I the only drum and bass track on my mp3player comes on and jump around like mad.. ps. adam please bring more drum and bass 🙂

A wild dog comes within a few meters of me, and sits down facing the ever lighiting mountians, no doubt awaiting the arrival of the moon..

Finally it happens. The moon appears as a sliver and then grows into a huge ball the man looking down at me.. He bathes me in a warm bluish light. My shadow becomes elongated against the peaks behind me, and I keep dancing until my battery runs out and I am forced to head down to town, full of smiles and warmth.

I am still thinking of all my friends, and indeed they were all with me dancing on this mountain, or soon they will be:)

After waking up before the sun and waiting hours in a cozy tea shop, taking turns looking down the road for busses, or tractors or yaks finally we find a mini-bus that will take us to Tingri! ... [Continue reading this entry]