I was in Tibet for about a month in Sept 1989. I travelled overland from Kathmandu to Lhasa. It was a difficult journey. Land slides had wiped out portions of the road on the Nepali side of the border, and it could only be travelled by foot. The overland route was barren and lodging and food primitive at best. We stayed overnight at chinese army posts some nights. Many in my group were very sick from altitude. When we finally arrived in Lhasa, it seemed like civilization, even though it is one of the most isolated cities in the world.

I have many memories of the Jokhang. My travelling partner and I befriended a monk there and shared yak butter tea...of which I have many fond, and not so fond, digestive memories. (if you drank it too fast, your cup was quickly refilled...if you drank it too slowly, the butter congealed, and it was like cool grease....I actually liked the initial taste of the stuff, but a bit went a long way. The Tibetans drink huge quantities whereas I found a few sips my digestive quota. I could go on and write and write...how we were invited to share a festival at the Jokhang..I am trying to remember, I think it lasted 3 or 4 days...It was the first time the Chinese government had allowed them to celebrate this occasion in many years, and the monks were very excited. I have pictures of the tsampa and yak butter sculptures they made over the course of the days of the celebration. I think I even taped them chanting...I was on the upper level of the Jokhang and could be discreet with my camera and walkman. I remember having to escape for air (too much yak butter tea...and went into the market place at Barkhor. There I found these children selling tiny hot potatoes...just boiled or steamed...lovely...they wrapped them in a piece of cone shaped paper...a dash of salt...just what I needed to absorb all that butter floating in my belly! I still find comfort in tiny boiled potatoes when I'm ill..takes me back to that day. I actually have a photo of the "facilities" on the upper level of the Jokhang...to this day I still wonder how exactly the whole thing worked since there was no actual "plumbing"...I hoped it wasn't some poor monks "duty"...the idea of an upper level outhouse just made you ponder the logistics.

My memories of Lhasa and Tibet are actually far less superficial and amusing than this portrays. Just in certain moments a sense of humour had it's place.

I remember my anger and helplessness as I saw the homeless digging for shelter in rocks with their hands as the Chinese army watched and laughed tools unused by their sides. I remember terror at 2 drunken army men (that seemed like 15 years old) taking pot shots at women washing their laundry in the river. I remember the children begging...then taking their rewards back to share with others huddled nearby. I remember the dogs fighting, and how I dreaded the nightfall when they would start ripping each other apart. Until I was in Tibet, I didn't know there was reality in the term "dog eat dog"....And how sad and numb I felt realizing that man as I witnessed in a once holy place, had degraded to lower than those dogs...

I found your website by accident...I am looking for a large reproduction of the Potala Palace for my wall. I lead a wonderfully happy life...I probably appreciate it more than most because of what I have seen, but it has been a long time since I travelled. I'm now raising a family, and it's easy to become self absorbed. A glance at the Potala on my wall will be a reality check! My experiences help me stay grounded with the realities of the world...so as not to take my life for granted.