Tibet - One Year Later...

During all of my recent job interviews, the topic of my travels has 99% of the time led off every conversation. When I tell people the places I've been, the one that most people ask about is Tibet. It is still hard for me to fathom that I traveled to this remote region of the world a year ago today. 

I had the opportunity to go because of my Dad. After he had heard that I quit my job so I can go traveling, he thought it would be a good bonding experience to take me to Tibet and also experience some other parts of Mainland China. 

Our journey started in Western China, in the dusty city of Shining. Like most of the China that I experienced, it was a city of extremes: 

- a large populous, but many abandoned buildings due to over construction, 

- a diverse ethnic mix, but visible factions between ethic Chinese and the Central Asian minority groups that first populated the region,

- and modernization but with issues with social traditionalism and the treatment of women as second class citizens. 

Shining stuck out as a collection of metal surrounded by incredible geological wonders and nature's most stunning backdrops.  It was here that we experienced the way the Chinese countryside functions - having been stuck in a traffic jam for almost 4 hours and watching the locals force their way around the jam on the one stretch of road leading back to the city.

The trek to Lhasa was also one of breathtaking scenery mixed in with a total kick to my comfort zone's gut. Crammed into a coffin-style bunk (stacked three bunks high with two columns per room) the 24 hour trek up several thousand meters of elevation caused dizziness, shortness of breath and a total lack of any personal space. The best challenge was the struggle to use a squat toilet on a fast moving train where the previous users have been less than careful with their aim. One experience with that, I told my gastrointestinal system that we were going on a full shutdown mode to avoid another traumatic experience with the loo.

Stepping off the train and onto the platform at Lhasa, the blast of fresh air was like no air I've ever breathed in before. Clean. Crisp. Wonderful. Not realizing that I've been breathing at twice my normal speed because of the lack of oxygen, the walk to the tour bus felt like a brutal 5k run uphill.  

Over the next two days, I would spend time during the day wandering alongside the town folk of Lhasa, visiting some of the holiest sites in Buddhist culture and observing some of the strict military presence used to remind the Tibetan people, that someone else owns you. But the Tibetan people, mindful that they are not fully free, have very little cares in the world and are among the most happy and friendly people I've met on my year abroad. A mix of not knowing what else there is beyond their borders and a simple style of life, they greeted you with a familiarity that is hard to explain. In the market of the Johkang Temple, stalls would be bookended by military police posts, there to guard against any protesters ready to immolate themselves and cause embarrassment to the Chinese government.  But the shopkeepers go about their day, as if the guards didn't exist, perfecting their craft, peddling their art, bargaining with passersby interested in taking home a piece of the local culture.

The next seven days were ones that tested my physical endurance and my comfort zones to an extreme. We stayed in not so great accommodations, some without warm water or heat, some looked like the place you saw in the movie Hostel, and all with very little entertainment in and around the area. During the day, we would spend hours in a 4x4 trekking to the highest peaks and then down to flat desert all in an eight hour period. The high point (literally and figuratively) was being at base camp Everest and seeing this monstrous tip of rock sticking out of the ground and being left breathless at the sight of it (and the fact that there was little to no air). The lowest of lows was when one of the cars in our convoy of vehicles hit a small child who ran into the middle of the road. We don't know what ever happened to him - his aunt scooped him up, and ran off to their hut. The image of his wailing mother, collapsed at the doorstep of their home still gives me chills today.

We ended the trip in Shanghai - completely the opposite of what we experienced in the previous 12 days - a city that went from squalor to splendor in 25 years. Shanghai was where my other half of my family was from before the Civil War torn millions of Chinese families apart. Walking down the same streets my grandparents walked down when they were children, I wondered how they would have reacted to the changes and how emotional it might have been if they had experienced that.

My two week trip in China with my Dad was the start to repairing years of a strained relationship. It is always hard to travel with family members and at the time, I kept seeing my Dad as the same guy he's always been - this annoyance that just would not let me be an adult. I was short, I was brash, I was rude on various occasions during our time together and I'd constantly kick myself for being such a child. This was a gift that I was able to experience this trip of a lifetime, and I was a complete dick in the way I was showing my gratitude. But my Dad continued to be the patient man he always is, and looked past my behaviour while looking for nothing else but a closer relationship in return.

Tibet forced me to learn a lot about how I was living my life in Toronto.  How selfish I was, how I had misplaced many priorities which chasing after others that really are not all that important, and how I had been using my "independence" as an excuse for building proper relationships with my family, with friends and with partners. Tibet kicked off a year of self-discovery and reflection that I doubt any other destination I have been to this year would have been able to force out of me. The remote area, the spiritual presence, the lack of a busy lifestyle all made me sit and think, and think, and think...nothing else but that.

I thank my Dad for the chance to see the world's most amazing views, I thank the Tibetan people for their hospitality and I thank whatever's watching over me for keeping me safe and for guiding me through a once in a lifetime adventure.

What a difference a year can make.

Chapter III: Lhasa - Temples, Incense, Praying...Oh my!

After 24 hours of a sleepless journey from Western China, arriving in Lhasa was a blessing.  Taking a deep breath after taking my first step off the train and onto the platform was required - at almost 3,500m above sea level, there is a notable difference with the air you're taking in around you.  It reminds me of Thanksgiving in cottage country Ontario where the air is clean and crisp, but in Lhasa, you struggle to try to get all the air that you can.

While the air deprivation helped in the light-headedness, I was on a different kind of high.  It was the excitement of being in a place where not many tourists even get to go.  One of the reasons for that is attributable to the first of what I call the three "S"s of Tibet - Security.

The minute we stepped through the station, we were whisked to a checkpoint.  In China, there are a few realities one must embrace at any checkpoint.  There are no lines, just a mass huddle of people not only shoving each other, but also sticking their passports into the Customs Officers' faces hoping for immediate approval.  While being shoved every which way by people two, three times my age, I somehow found a moment to look around and noticed the reality that Tibetans had to live with - the constant supervision of the Chinese military.  One can count at least two to three dozen officers outside the station along with the two or three groups of patrols, their boots' perfectly syncronized click-clacking like a metronome.

One of the few pictures I was able to take of the security
posts at Jokhang Market.

The security didn't let up after we left the train station either.  During our entire stay in Tibet, convoys of military vehicles would surprisingly appear out of nowhere to remind everyone that this land is a part of China.  Tourists would be reprimanded when taking photos of or anywhere near a patrol - I nearly made this mistake when pointing my camera towards a building just as a patrol walked by.  Looking out the window of our tour bus and seeing the third convoy pass us with in a matter of 20 minutes, I wondered: How does one cope with living under this constant watch of the military eye?

The faithful on their way to temple.

And the answer is quite simple - the second of my "S"s of Tibet - Spirituality.  The Tibetan people, faces toughened by the elements and decades of Chinese occupation, escape into their deep faith of Buddhism in order to forget about the realities of the men in green uniforms.  The city is dotted with temples and shrines dedicated to their worship, incense is woven into the air and everywhere you look the faithful are spinning prayer spinners while on their knees praying to the heavens on the two kilometre devotion path around the city centre.

The Potala Palace is the Mecca of the traditional Buddhist faith.  Having only been to one other spiritual epicentre of a religion, the Vatican, the Potala Palace offered a different kind of feeling of majestic beauty.  Rather than the marble of the Vatican, stone and wood are the building blocks of the Potala palace.  Built in the 17th century, the palace is divided into three portions with the dominate colours of red, white and mustard yellow dividing each part of the palace.  Climbing this palace is not an easy feat - you're easily winded if you don't pace yourself and it's hard not to feel slightly inadequate upon seeing 70-80 year old monks passing you up the steps.

The Potala Palace.

At the top, the Potala offers you a spectacular view of Lhasa - flanked by mountains, a plateau and a large river, the sight is truly breathtaking.  Which brings me to my final "S" of Tibet - Serenity.  Now it may seem strange that I would place Serenity along side Security, but I found myself staring at landscapes and listening to the sounds of nature during my entire stay in Lhasa.  The gardens of Nobulinka certainly provided much of that serene atmosphere.  As the summer home of previous Dalai Lamas, Nobulinka is a vast swatch of gardens that you rarely see in a climate as harsh as this.  Beautiful foliage surrounds the summer palace, clearly a perfect place to meditate and collect your thoughts.

The weather here was incredible during my stay.

From the top of the Potala Palace looking at the mountains and the river.

Lhasa is a beautiful city, its traditions kept alive by the faithful and perfectly curated by the military to keep a fragile peace.  The most uncomfortable experience I had in Lhasa was at the Jokhang Market and Temple.  The oldest temple in Lhasa, it was built in the 7th century and had been the seat of the Dalais for centuries before the Potala.  This market is famous for Tibetan monks protesting the occupation of their homeland by China.  Most of these monks set themselves on fire by dousing themselves with gasoline.  Within every hundred metres or so, there are large tents with two to three dozen fire extinguishers and a phalanx of guards - all prepared to deal with the horrific situation of a man on fire.  But the people of the market go about their lives as if the guards aren't there.  The peddle every type of artifact you can think of - pots, pans, prayer beads, prayer spinners, all to make a buck that they will likely donate back to the temple.

The many things you can get at the market.

Lhasa was definitely the highlight of my Tibet trip.  While there are other points of breathtaking moments (most likely because I had very little oxygen left to breath), there were also moments of deep sadness which I will share in the upcoming posts.

Spinning the golden prayer cylinders.

Chapter II: The Lhasa Express - A Day With the Train

After our three days and two nights in Xining, we rushed to get to our train - the Lhasa Express.  From Xining, the train takes 24 hours to get to our final destination.  There are two starting points - both from the coastal regions of China - Beijing and Shanghai.  The trip from these two points takes a full three days to reach Lhasa.  Trust me, after 24 hours on a train, I couldn't imagine spending three days on this moving tin can.  I can understand why there was a Murder on the Orient Express.

I was about to murder someone on this Orient express.

The whole experience first starts in the Xining train station.  The station is PACKED, full of migrant workers heading back to Tibet.  I mentioned before that we were rushing for the train as we were delayed in a car accident, we were to board at 730pm and we got there at 710pm, just in the nick of time.  But, this is China, and we were informed that the train was delayed by 30 minutes (this turned out to be untrue, as the real delay time was almost an hour and a half.)

Xining Train Station.  Nowhere to sit except for the ground.

We got into our "Comfort Class" cabins - a tiny room with six bunks in total.  Someone had already occupied our beds before Xining, so I was greeted with remnants of hair, used tissues and what I'm pretty sure was a nose nugget on the pillow.  Having inherited my dad's paranoia on germs, I immediately changed the sheets, stuffed them into the overhead luggage compartment and made a makeshift bed out of a novel (pillow), bedsheets (jacket and sweatshirt).  


People have told me there's something romantic about train travel.  The hum of the engine, the gentle rocking back and forth, and the incredible scenery that passes you as you zoom along the track.  Clearly, these people haven't travelled by train in China.  The hum of the engine is replaced by the bodily noises of other passengers (I heard a fart from down the car that still gives me nightmares), the gentle rocking is replaced by your constant moving around in your bunk to find some proper way of sleeping, and the incredible scenery...well, yes, there is incredible scenery outside - I can't really dispute that.


Here's a quick recap of what my day on the train was like:


THE GOOD - 
You have a lot of free time on the train.  This allowed me to think and write, stare out the window and meet some interesting folks to practice Chinese with.  The thinking and writing take up most of my time.  During my trip in Tibet, I kept a journal that I scrawled out my ideas for short stories, novels and to keep a track of my travels.  I muse over some of the chicken scratch and try to decipher what I was trying to say.  You can't really blame me for terrible writing, I was always in a moving vehicle when I was jotting down my thoughts.  The views from the window in my room were spectacular as we climbed from an elevation of 3000 km above sea level to approximately 4200 km at our highest point.  The landscape morphed from tundra to grasslands to deserts all within a span of a couple of hours.  

Farmland.  Yes, people actually can grow things here. 

Canada?  No.  Tibet. 

A red river.  Both scary and beautiful at the same time.

I also had a chance to meet a new friend.  Hong was his name, but his English name was Henry.  He was travelling with his best friend (who was grumpy due to altitude sickness), and their sisters.  Hong and his best friend's sister were both in their early 20s and studying engineering in Wuhan.  I had some preconceived notions that because China's government censors everything, the youth might have been ignorant to some of the things going on in the world.  In fact, I was the ignorant one.  These guys were just as educated as we all were, and actually quite skeptical of what their government tells them.  The love Western TV and all have hopes to travel abroad.  However, traveling outside of China is a dream for them as VISAs are not given out by the Chinese government to young people, for fears that they'll leave and never come back.  Talk about overprotective parenting.


THE BAD - 
There's literally no space to do anything.  The number of times I hit my head on the luggage compartment doors as I climbed to the top bunk was countless - well, I think I forgot how to count due to the concussion I must of suffered for hitting my head so much.  The corridors were lined with people from 5am (when the lights came on - WHY GOD, WHY 5AM?!) and was packed until 10pm.  Travelling from our cabin to the dining car took a better part of ten minutes and it was only four cars away.


And this was just the sleeping cabins - I couldn't imagine what life was like in the sitting room only cars.  I snuck a peek (the cars were on the other side of the dining car) and the people looked so miserable, I was really hoping they found solace in the fact that they were going to a spiritual mecca and that this trip was worth it.  It seemed that I wasn't the only Westerner that was having a hard time adjusting - I had a tough time fitting into the bunks, I can't imagine what the six foot German guys had to deal with (they looked miserable too).

No room.

THE UGLY - 
This is summed up with two words: Squat Toilet.  Worse - a squat toilet on a moving train.  I believe you are required to hold a level four gymnastics license in order to attempt this feat.  One has to balance themselves both for the squat and to adjust themselves accordingly for the train movement all while trying to make sure their pants didn't hit the ground and that the poop coming out of your bum hit the bowl and not your pants.  It was a multi-tasking experience and thankfully, my dad reminded me to take toilet paper with me before I went because, by the time I went, someone had stolen the roll from the bathroom.  


This room was so scary, I couldn't even bother taking a photo for you to share in the disgust.  After going the first time, I made a deal with my gastrointestinal system - cooperate and we'll never have to experience that room ever again.  I ate and drank very little due to this and likely caught my cold/flu because of this.  I do not wish this experience on any of my worst enemies.  Well, maybe to my worst boss ever.  Just kidding.


Well, I learned a lot on this journey and I'll share with you some of my thoughts that I had jotted down on the margins of my notebook:


- "Always appreciate a good toilet - you'll never know when you'll encounter a squat one."
- "Train travel is fun once and teaches you the lesson of working hard to earn money for a plane ticket."
- "Chinese youth are just like our North American youth - heads down, eyes on a screen, texting away."
- "Best to bring an Ambien on any train journey - sleep is the best activity to participate in on a train."
- "With all this complaining, I'm still one lucky bastard to get to experience this trip."


And an obvious choice for a song to pair with my time on a train is Soul Asylum's Runaway Train.  The lyrics to this dark ballad points to a guy who's super depressed, likely over a lover.  My theory is that it's more likely he's been on a train from Shanghai to Lhasa for three days.  Fuck, I'd be depressed too.

UPDATE: After watching the music video, the band highlights the issue of runaway teens.  There's nothing funny about that.


Up next - my Lhasa adventures (much better than the train!)

Chapter I: The Great Chinese Building Boom - Xining, China

April 21 - that's the day I boarded a plane for the mainland.  The trip to Western China would take about 7 hours worth of travel from Taipei to Shanghai, Shanghai to Lanzhou and then Lanzhou by bus to Xining, the largest city in the Western Chinese province of Qinghai.  Our tour consists of 21 Taiwanese citizens - I am by far the youngest.  I am accompanied by my dad and my 2nd uncle.  


Landing in Lanzhou, we're rushed off to dinner where we were treated to Huang He (Yellow River brand) beer.  As a beer lover, I wouldn't say that this would top any list of beers I would ask for even if it was the only option at a restaurant.  Unfortunately, this beer appears multiple times as we travelled through Western China.

Horses are a big part of Western Chinese culture.  Here's a statue of a horse outside Lanzhou airport.

Xining (pronounced She-ning), has a history going back 2100 years and was a pivotal part of the Silk Road.  It also has the notoriety of being the 2nd worst air polluted cities in China (even worse than Beijing).  And it's pretty clear why it gets this distinction - when you stare out at the horizon in the morning, you can barely make out the skyline.


The reason we're in Xining is two fold.  The first, is for the attraction of the city itself.  Western China's landscapes have been carved out by thousands of years of wind, sand and water erosion.  The scenery is as if they were painted on canvas; awe-inspiring, breathtaking views that no camera could capture with justice (more on that later in this post).  The second reason, was for pure health reasons.  In venturing to Tibet, which at it's lowest point is still around 2500KM above sea level, one must adjust slowly to the altitude or suffer the consequences.  Our tour guide's plan was to adjust us to the altitude by going through China, climbing higher and higher as we head into Tibet.


The city is an odd place - a construction boom is visible everywhere you go, the number of cranes seem to outnumber the number of vehicles on the street, and that says something for a place that is in a constant traffic jam.  The building boom is a symbol of China's wealth and ability to mobilize a workforce to build houses for ghosts.  Why I say that is that when you pass by completed buildings, there are no occupants.  One would think that with the population of China, it wouldn't be hard to find occupants for these dwellings.  Well, not when the large majority of the population of Western China lives below the poverty line and each of these places cost more than any amount of money one of these people would earn in a lifetime.  The apartment blocks are cookie cutter and a throwback to 1970s Russian Communist architecture.  If you disagree, let me show you some exhibits.

How inspiring...it's like a GAP commercial for buildings.

All these buildings are done...and empty.

Xining is also the cultural merging of three main groups - the majority Han Chinese, the minority Muslim Chinese and the even smaller minority Tibetans that are relegated to the outskirts of the cities.  The groups live a strange co-existance.  Observing out the bus window, the groups stuck with their own kind, no mixing or intermingling.  Store signs are all in Simplified Chinese, with certain stores displaying Arabic or Tibetan, depending on which minority group owned that store.


Our tour guide is named Bai Ling (like the infamous Chinese movie actress, who tried to break out into North American cinema, but only ended up on Celebrity Rehab).  She is a spritely girl, who is only 22 years old - a veteran in the Chinese tour guide industry.  She started in the tourism industry when she was 16 - gotta give it to the Chinese for putting their youth to work ASAP.  She's incredibly informative, patient and speaks Mandarin without a sharp mainlander accent.  She takes us to three key sights near Xining:


- Guide (pronounced Gwei De) National Geological Park
- Bird Island Sanctuary
- Xining's highest point at 3820KMs above sea level


Guide National Geological Park was recently made a national heritage site in 1997.  The park is surrounded by walls of rock and clay, carved and chiseled by centuries of wind, water and sand erosion.  Everywhere you turned, there was a photo opportunity.  In fact, I wished I had more time to set up a chair, and aisle, a canvas and a paint set, and have a day to sit, sip a cup of tea and paint like it was my job.  In the centre of the park sits a green lake with a pagoda that serves as a museum for the Guide area.  As an interesting sidenote, the 2011 World Rock Climbing championships were held here.  I'll let the photos speak for themselves.

The hiking trail through the park.

The green lake with the Pagoda Museum.

Lone tree in the park.

Bird Island Sanctuary is located near Qinghai Lake, one of the largest lakes in Asia (about 16 times the size of Singapore), was another pitstop in our two days near Xining.  While there is a stunning view of the lake, and an island that is populated by Comurant birds that use it for nesting, there wasn't much to see and we were back on the bus within 1/2 hour.  Nonetheless, there are some cool pictures.

Qinghai Lake

Me with Comurant Island in the background.

Finally, we went to the highest point in Xining, about 3820KM above sea level.  Tibetans actually come to this spot and throw prayers papers out the windows, I know this because our bus was peppered with a healthy dose of these prayer papers as we drove up to the lookout point.  This lookout is only accessible by one road, which is fine, until there's a car accident.  We experienced this as a truck made too sharp of a turn at a high speed and resulted in a 4 1/2 hour jam on both sides.  It was quite the spectacle - the police standing around not doing anything, Chinese drivers doing what all Chinese do in a crowded situation by trying to force their way to the front, and maintenance workers focused more on their smoke breaks than getting the truck off the road.  Here are some photos:

Truck down.

Everyone just standing around.

Everyone is just trying to squeeze to the front.

Mountains from lookout point.

My dad doing his best "I Dream of Jeannie" impression at 3820KM above sea level.

China was certainly a test of my patience.  Smoking was acceptable indoors, common courtesy was left by the wayside, lining up was unheard of (people just rushed) and well, spitting, excuse me, horking, was acceptable sidewalk behaviour.  My tolerance for the Chinese was working itself up to a point when I had to remind myself that I am a guest in their home and that I have to grin and bear it.  This was my first test in a long series of trials and challenges set up to try my patience.  Add to that the beginning of a cold, this short visit to Xining was proving to not be the best first impression of China.  My dad also shared this view - while he's travelled to the mainland several times on trips before, he has have very few nice things to say about Chinese tourists.  And boy, were we about to encounter the motherload when venturing to Lhasa.


I also shared some small moments of bonding with my dad over photography (probably the very few moments before we started getting nitpicky with each other's photography skills).  He still doesn't understand why I have to take jumping photos whereever I go.


As for the song that helped me on this leg of the journey, for this leg of the journey, I picked "Human" by The Killers.  Not only did their music video, shot in Nevada, look like the landscape of Guide, but the lyrics covered some of the questions I was asking myself during this first part of the trip including:


"Close your eyes, clear your heart, cut the cord."
"Will your system be alright, when you dream of home tonight?"
"I'm on my knees, looking for the answer.  Are we human?  Or are we dancer?"


Now there are a lot of interpretations of this song's lyrics from a discourse regarding if we are still what we think we are as organic living beings or programmed by technology "dancers" to the argument that none of it makes any sense at all.  The way that this song spoke to me, besides having a wicked ass melody for long road trips, is to go and find your escape from what has made you complacent in life.  Are we meant to just live a life or are we meant to experience through actions ("the dance") all our own?  Letting go of expectations, wiping out pre-concieved notions and embracing what you're there to experience should be the mantra of any traveller and I was struggling to find that while starting off my journey.  In fact, there was a sense of homesickness when I encountered my first squat toilet in a restuarant in Xining, and I hadn't even experienced the worst of it.  If I wanted to make the best of my trip, I needed to change my attitude quickly, and this song was a great reminder of that.

Next, I'll take you on my 24 hour ride on the Lhasa Express.  Train travel - it's fun once.  You'll likely never want to do it again.

Introduction to Volume I - Tibet, China - Patience is a Virtue AKA 7 Days (x2) in Tibet

I've never been to mainland China ever in my life.  The fact that I have not stepped foot on my ancestral homeland for over 28 years of my life had always bugged me, especially since my brother got to go before I did.  It isn't a competitive thing with my brother, it's just that he's never liked to travel and the fact that he got to go somewhere before I did, irked me.  Okay, maybe it is a competitive thing.

My brother, grandmother and grandmother's brother's son (Uncle Once Removed?) in 2006.
See how he's so cool and non-chalant about being in Shanghai?  Grrr... (PS - Alex, I'm just kidding)

When I decided to quit my job, I called my dad to let him know that I wanted to spend some time in Taiwan.  He informed me that him and 20 of his traveling companions (yes, they have a tourist group that always travel to the mainland together) wanted to go to Tibet, and asked if I wanted to come.  I don't think there was a second of thought between the time I read the line, "Did you want to come?" and typing in the words, "Fuck yea, I do."  Please note, my dad then returned with an email that said: "What is this 'fuck'?"

The two sides of my family have two very different relationships with the mainland.  First my mom's side of the family.  My grandfather and grandmother were both staunch Shanghainese.  Their accents and their switching of Mandarin Chinese into Shanghainese during conversations gave their background away to anyone familiar with China.  My grandfather, from what I understand, grew up orphaned; my grandmother, was forced to leave elementary school very early to help her family earn income by sewing garments.  They married, had my uncle, and escaped to Taiwan during the Chinese Civil War, where they had my aunt, then my mom.  

Above is a picture of my grandmother and my great aunt (her younger sister).
In 2006, they met for the first time since 1949, when my grandmother was exiled to Taiwan and the remainder of her family was stuck on the mainland with the Communists.  I cannot imagine not seeing my brother for almost 60 years. This is what war does to families.

My dad's side of the family originally came from Fujian province in China.  Their ancestors had moved across the Taiwan strait centuries ago and had become the 2nd group of native Taiwanese (after the aboriginal groups) to settle on the island - think of them as the Pilgrim equivalents of Asia.  They lived through Japanese occupation of the island.  Surprisingly, most elderly Taiwanese you encounter have fond memories of the Japanese as the Japanese were responsible for building a lot of the infrastructure and educational institutions on the island.  This exposed a generation of Taiwanese (my grandparent's generation) to higher education, which planted the seeds of the importance of being educated in future Taiwanese generations.  This second group of Taiwanese did not harbour the same feelings for the Kuomingtang government that landed in 1949 (the 3rd group) - the divisions between the two groups led to the current state of Taiwanese politics, with the 2nd group making up the Independence Green party movement and the 3rd group supporting the KMT government and longing for reunification with the mainland.

With these roots, I had always been curious to see what it was like on the Mainland, having been to Taiwan so many times in my 20s.  Some preconceived notions had already formed including:

- there's going to be a lot of people (this turned out to be very true)
- it's going to be dirty and unsanitary (this was mostly driven by my dad's paranoia and my own OCD tendencies)
- there's going to be a lot of pollution (this was true in the Chinese cities, but less so in Tibet, however, the effects of climate change were quite visible)
- people had no issues with displaying bodily functions (yea - this was sadly true)

Now before I move on in my blog, I know that there will be those people offended that I refer to Tibet as separate from China.  I can see how it can be as offensive to the Chinese as if outsiders started calling Quebec a separate country when referring to Canada.  Please understand that it is just easier to reference Tibet as Tibet, and not as Tibet, China and that nothing should be taken as a political statement.

Our fourteen trip in China and Tibet took us through to both ends of the socio-economic spectrum.  We first saw a city in Western China called Xining - a city going through a growth spurt like every other city in the Chinese interior.  Hundreds of buildings were being constructed, and infrastructure projects dotted the landscape.  The city and the Qinghai region is also the intersection of three cultures - the dominant Han Chinese, the minority Muslim Chinese and then the Tibetan, who dwell on the outskirts of the city.  Outside of Xining, the landscape is the main tourist attractions - years of soil, wind and water erosion have carved the mountain sides and the red clay terrain into works of art.

Near Xining, China - At Gui-de National Geological Park.  The wind and sand have carved the red clay terrain into any artist's canvas inspiration.

From Xining, we headed towards Lhasa on an overnight train called the Lhasa Express.  This train has two main lines - the Beijing -> Lhasa line and the Shanghai -> Lhasa line.  Both mainly serve the thousands of migrant workers who go to the big cities to look for work, then there is the small minority of travellers who want to experience life on the train.  My main lesson here was that while it was nice to experience once, it inspires you to work hard and earn the money for a plane ticket.  There's really nothing romantic about train travel - especially using a squat toilet on a moving train (more on that in my Lhasa Express blog post).

We arrived in Lhasa on Wednesday, April 25 but it seemed like any weekend, as the pace of life in Tibet is so laid back.  It has to be - any activity that requires you to take copious amount of oxygen would likely result in you fainting at this altitude.  I'll admit, I had trouble at some points - and I'm in pretty good shape.

Lhasa, like the rest of Tibet was magical.  Faith and spirituality was everywhere - devout Buddhists were everywhere and like the Vatican, they made their pilgrimage to this, one of the holiest places in Buddhism and showed their devotion through filling temple coffers with renminbis (China's currency) and praying along the 3 km prayer route around Lhasa.  Devotees were on their knees, crawling and praying on this route - my dad's only thought here was - "wow, that's so unsanitary."

Near Jongkar Temple - Devotees repeated this prayer action 1,000 times a day.  Stand, Kneel, Hands & Head to the Ground and repeat.  

We ventured out of Lhasa for about a week, going to cities like Gyangtse, Shigatse, Gonggar, Dingri and Everest Base Camp (on the Tibet side).  Like Xining, the landscape was the tourist attraction here.  I don't know how many photos I have of mountains, lakes, rivers, flowers - it was a nature explosion on my SD card.  Most of them had to be deleted as the 4x4 we were in wasn't great at helping the focus on my camera.  Bad roads, fast speeds, altitude adjustment and a head cold did not make for a happy Terence for a couple of days, and my only cure was to stare out the window and appreciate what it was I was looking at.

Near Gonggar, Tibet - A picture like it was a painting.

We ended our trip in Shanghai, China, the economic heart of China.  A city like no other I've seen in the world.  It's like a New York that sprang up overnight, in fact, it was.  Going to the birthplace of my mother's parents was surreal - it felt like my grandmother was with me, guiding me through the city as if she was saying, "Oh my, this city has changed."

This trip to Tibet and China helped me in many ways, which I will elaborate on in future posts.  I realized a few things about myself:

- I need to slow down and appreciate the things around me.  Patience has never been a forte of mine, and I had to learn to mellow down in a place where everything was mellow.
- I need to be nicer to my dad.  I am in fact, a terrible son.  I am rude, abrupt and inconsiderate of his feelings.  Years of trying to hate him for my parents divorce certainly did a number on me.  I realized I needed to channel that anger into figuring out how to connect with him again, and this was certainly a great opportunity to do it.
- I need to put the camera down and just appreciate the scenery without the lens in the way.  
- The only faith I need in my life is to live a good life.  I'm not meant to follow any major religion, even one as peaceful as Buddhism

This leads me to the song that I started with each day with while on this trip.  Affirmation is a song from the same titled album by Savage Garden, released in 1999.  In this song, there are statements that were like gems I found on this journey including:

"I believe your parents did the best job they knew how to do."
"I believe we place our happiness in other people's hands."
"I believe you don't know what you got until you say goodbye."

The first line obviously speaks to my relationship with my dad - he's never been there to parent because of the geographic distance between us, but I realized on this trip, no matter how much abuse I spew out at him, he still loves me.  It takes a real man to be able to love someone else so unconditionally that they put up with that kind of behaviour.

The second line speaks to my need in my teens and most of my 20s living up to people's expectations and what others thought of me.  Coming from a competitive university culture, my career was all about measuring up or being better than my counterparts and never really doing what it was that I wanted to do, to make me happy.  My decision to quit really was the start to taking that happiness back into my own hands.

The final line speaks to all the things I've taken for granted - especially my relationships.  I never appreciated what my mom did for me before she died (and never had a chance to say it to her).  I never had a chance to tell my grandmother what an inspiration she was to me for being an 80 year old uneducated widower who survived by herself in a country that was so foreign to her.  This line also focuses me to appreciate the places I have and will travel to - to remember why you were there rather than trying to remember them later through photographs.

It's an amazing song, and goes well with Tibet and its spirituality.  I now start everyday with this song.  It's my positive reinforcement.  Enjoy the song below - and enjoy the throwback to 90's clothing.

A nomad in Asia - AKA 4.5 weeks

I've been trying to settle my restless mind over the past couple of days and it has been close to impossible.  Having leapt off the plane on Thursday, so joyous to be home in Taipei, it has been non-stop craziness ever since my return from four and a half weeks in Asia.  I've finally had the chance to sort through 2500+ photos, read through my scribbles in my travel journal and collect my thoughts on how I want to convey to all of you my amazing 33 day journey.

The Petronas Towers, Kuala Lampur, Malaysia - The Malaysian government built these towers then sell it to $1.2 billion to Petronas.  Cha-ching.

For those of you who don't know, I spent two weeks in China and Tibet with my dad, my uncle and 20 other Taiwanese tourists, a week in Vietnam, a week in Singapore and four days in Malaysia.  Each of these destinations offered a different taste of Asia, and interesting learnings on life, history, culture and most importantly, food.  In a nutshell:

Tibet was serene but guarded.
Vietnam was chaotic but laid back.
Singapore was perfection but orchestrated.
Malaysia was cultured but lacked focus.

Near Gongar, Tibet - A country with spectacular visuals that would make any artist salivate at the opportunity for inspiration.

I plan on posting my experiences in four parts - each country gets its own volume of collective blogs, and each country has my observances of culture, people and personal revelations.  In a sense, I had a series of Eat, Pray, Love moments that allowed me to appreciate why I made the decision to take the year off.  In each of these "chapters," not only will include funny and fascinating tidbits of each of the destinations, but also a self-discovery insight, an "aha!" moment if you will, and also the song that best matched with my mood that day.  (Thank God for my iPod - it came in handy when trying to find the right songs to match my experiences.

Beautiful Halong Bay, Vietnam - This rock is famous and is featured on their 20,000 Dong (20,000 Viet Dong is equal to $1USD.)

Here's an overview of what you can have to look forward to (Note: as I continue to update, each of these chapters will have a link to their corresponding blog entry once it has been written.):

Volume I - Tibet, China - Patience is a Virtue AKA 7 Days (x2) in Tibet

Chapter I - The Great Chinese Building Boom - Xining, China
Chapter II - The Lhasa Express - A Day with the Train
Chapter III - Lhasa - Temples, Incense, Praying...Oh my!
Chapter IV - Me and my Dad (pt. 2)
Chapter V - Five Days in a 4x4 - Off to Everest Base Camp
Chapter VI - Going, going... Gonggar
Chapter VII - On the other end of the spectrum, Shanghai

Near Gonggar, Tibet - First Palace (aptly named as it was the first palace in Tibet) which overlooks the fertile Lhasa valley below.

Volume II - Vietnam - Organic Chaos AKA Good Morning Vietnam!

Chapter I - Hanoi, the crazy Asian cousin of romantic Europe
Chapter II - Majestic Halong Bay
Chapter III - Beach Bum in Nha Trang
Chapter IV - Saigon pt 1 - Mekong Delta and CuChi Tunnels
Chapter V - Saigon pt 2 - Vietnam's history and Vietnam's healing

St. James' Cathedral in Hanoi, Vietnam

Volume III - Singapore - Perfectly Wrapped AKA One Hot Sweaty Mess

Chapter I - Museum Visits for the Culture and Air Conditioning
Chapter II - Advertising People Love Drinking...ANYWHERE IN THE WORLD
Chapter III - Malls, Malls, Malls
Chapter IV - A Day at the Zoo - Hello inner 5 year old child
Chapter V - Relaxation - Food, Pools and Partying

The Singapore Skyline

Volume IV - Malaysia - Many Worlds in a Peninsula AKA Rain, Rain, Go Away

Chapter 1 - Kuala Lampur - Big City, Big Stomach
Chapter 2 - Malacca - Not a Swear Word
Chapter 3 - Wrapping Up a Whirlwind

Little Amsterdam Channel, Malacca, Malaysia

So I hope you'll come on this digital journey with me as I revisit all of my favourite memories and I hope you'll enjoy my commentary and insights.