Tibet 2006

June 5, 2006

I left Chengdu by bus headed for Kangding.  Three days later, I was on a two day bus trip to Shiqu.  We were supposed to overnight in Ganzi, but the right rear dual wheels came off just before Luhuo so we ended up spending the night there.  I thought that bus was dead in the water out on the road, but a mechanic cobbled it back together and we limped into town.

The adventure had begun.  Months of preparation were over and the action had begun.  My first objective was to meet with Chad, a Tibetan boy I knew from the Internet who was attending Duke University.  His home is Shiqu, a town in northwest Sichuan that we were now approaching.  I did not know where I would meet him or how to identify him so, as the bus entered the town of Shiqu, I was somewhat anxious.

The bus stopped mid-block on main street and by the time I had all my luggage off, the other passengers had dispersed.  I was standing on the sidewalk, under the gaze of small crowd of locals, wondering what to do.  Then I remembered my cell phone.  Someone speaking Tibetan answered, so I handed the phone to the man standing on the sidewalk closest to me.  He spoke a few moments and then motioned that I stay right where I was.

Shortly, three young guys approached from across the street and I recognized one from his picture on the Internet, my friend Chad.  Quickly, my luggage was placed in a taxi and we made the short trip to his house.

Life in Shiqu

Shiqu is a small, grassland town in Shiqu County.  It had long been my goal to trace the Yalong River from its source which is in the north part of that county, but for one reason or other, that goal had eluded me.

We arrived at Chad's home in a small compound at the edge of town.  The compound consisted of several single story buildings, arranged around a pot-holed courtyard containing parked cars and motorcycles.  In the corner near the entrance was a latrine and in front of each building was a water spigot.

The sky was overcast and a light rain fell in the damp chilly air, but inside it was warm by the stove.  A scoop of dried yak dung from time to time kept the fire hot, warming not only the room but kettles of water, pitchers of tea and bubbling pans full of stew or rice.  I sat on a Tibetan bed, propped up by a large stuffed bunny, in front of a low table with snacks and dried yak meat.  Chad sliced off a chunk of meat for me and I chewed and chewed.  The others seemed to eat it with less difficulty.

I met the family, one by one, the mama, the three brothers and later, the father.  There was lots of friendly chatter part of which Chad translated.  The warmth and love was evident.  Mama was in heaven with all four sons at home with her and she bustled around, cooking, cleaning up and serving food while pouring hot tea more or less continuously.

So here we are, the four brother flanked by mama and papa, the favorite uncle and me. (Click on photos to enlarge them)

Search for the source of the Yalong

After a day of rest, one of the brothers arranged for a Landcruiser and we set out to find the source of the Yalong River.  A short distance from town, we left the road, driving out across the grassland.  I thought "Wow, a desolate, roadless expanse!", but no, I realized later it was just that the road was so bad that crossing the grass was easier.

We came across a long wall of flat stones with engraving on them, Mani Stones.  Each is inscribed with a prayer or passage of scripture and stacked up to form a mani stone wall.

We passed through the village of Jia Yi, the last one marked on the map and the place where Chad's brother teaches school.  We passed a nomad who was on the move with yaks and horse.  Several times our driver asked the locals for directions.  We forded a rushing creek, paralleled a sizable river and crossed it on a rickety suspension bridge. The road reappeared along the base of a mountains on the far side of the river. 

Our objective came into view.  The river we were following, the Yang Yong, joined another river, the Tsa Chu, to become the Yalong.  We drove across the grass to the river's edge to have a picnic.  I had succeeded, my goal accomplished.

A herder and his daughter joined us as we ate.  He regaled the group with hilarious stories which I could not share.  He told us of some hot springs we could reach on our way back, called King Gesar's bathtubs.  A light rain forced us to pack up and head back although we did soak a while in the hot springs.

We stopped to see the brother's living quarters at the school.  The room was small and pretty shabby.  The small, wood burning stove in his room looked inadequate to ward of the intense cold of the grassland winters, but he was not complaining.  He did make an appeal for money to replace chipped bowls and lost spoons  for the school lunches.  I was able to meet their needs for just $320.

A father along the road asked if his little boy could ride with us back to Shiqu to attend school.  Of course the answer was yes and, without a tear, the father turned and left the boy in our care.  The light rain continued to fall, the air was chilly but the scenery was breathtaking.  Back in the warm house, Chad's brother placed a beautiful golden hada on my shoulders in appreciation for the donation for his school.

Two days later, I said goodbye to this warm and gracious family among promises to return next year.  Chad and his brother took me to the bus terminal and saw me off to Yushu where I would catch a sleeper bus to Xining.