Paul's Tibet Journal: The Road to Zhangmu

3:48pm, August 21st, 2009 marked another point in my life I never suspected would happen, had I not decided to take the plunge and move here to China.

Paul at the port.[Photo:CRIENGLISH.com]

On the road from Shigatse to Zhangmu, a town very near the Tibet/Nepal border, I caught -with my own eyes-my first glimpse of the mighty Himalayas. And though I know I will be amongst the mighty mountains in the not-too-distant future, as our excursion will take us to the border with Nepal, I couldn' help but note the time, as it's one of these points in your life that your really don't want to forget.

The day itself began interestingly enough. Having stayed overnight in Shigatse after a long and somewhat drawn out ride in from the capital Lhasa the evening before, we made our way to the Taishilhunpo Monastery. Considered one of, if not the, most important monastery in the so-called 'yellow sect' of Tibetan Buddhism, the Monastery claims home to the highest sitting Maireya Buddha statue in the world, along with embalmed and gold-coated remains of the 10th Panchant Lama, who died in 1989. Built in 1447, the Monastery is said to be the second largest in Tibet behind the Potala Palace.

And while the temple complex was beautifully adorned and seemingly well maintained by the monks who live there, I couldn't help but feel somewhat uncomfortable touring the facility. It's not out of any lack of respect for the Tibetan Buddhist religion. On the contrary. If I were to choose a religion, it would most likely be Buddhism, due mainly to its inherent inclusiveness and respect for all other faiths. But because I am not a Buddhist practitioner, I felt rather uneasy about lingering around and gawking at the various shrines while local Tibetans surrounded me, making their offerings and giving their prayers. It's almost like stepping into a Catholic church during Mass and taking pictures and wandering around while the priest is delivering his sermon. But to their credit, the monks are very relaxed about the whole thing, as are the faithful. I suspect-and perhaps this is the wrong choice of words-that the monks consider tourists to their holy shrine a 'necessary evil' because they bring in significant revenue to keep their monastery running. I'm not really sure if that's the case, but if it is, they say nothing.