Travel to Tibet and do not visit a Buddhist monastery is like being in Port Aventura and not the Dragon Khan ride or go to 'Lucio' for the first time and not asking about broken eggs. The advantage of a few days in Lhasa before entering the Himalayas, as well as gradually acclimate to the altitude, that makes no nonsense- is that in the vicinity of the capital of Tibet is located three of the most important: Drepung, Will there Ganden.
But these spiritual temples (perfectly prepared to show the passing tourist and raise a few yuan) must not mislead the visitor. In addition to religious centers, have come together over the years, the Chinese government resistance. Are largely, therefore, repositories of national pride that does not attend to their progressive impassive (and perhaps inevitable) dissolution. The stories of monks who have been tortured for opposing Beijing's designs, starring in street brawls or simply for daring to show pictures of the Dalai Lama, are abundant. Just track online (some complaints, even, have reached the High Court demanding justice).
As the Potala is closed, The best option is to devote the day to visit the monasteries of Drepung and Sera. Ganden, the furthest away from Lhasa, is ruled as a matter of time. And Drepung, from where there are spectacular views of the Tibetan plateau surrounded by mountains 5.000 meters, the numbers say it all. Where once lived 10.000 Monks are now only 700. The monastery stands on a hill surrounding Lhasa, almost 3.900 meters. Inside musty, a rancid yak butter, to wash clothes without, to dark. In the various rooms lie several Buddha images, each more impressive and the burial of four Dalai Lama (the second to fifth) and Drepung beens (surprising incarnations illustrious monks).
To a layman, everything is surprising. The atmosphere is mystical and oppressive at the same time. The traveler is an intruder from coming and going of faithful who have lovingly offerings, bags with yak butter and a spoon to feed the oil lamps of different chapels. Murmur their prayers, resuena electricity omnipresente «Mani Padme hum". All, to be humble (which are all) tightened with one hand a bundle of jiaos (tickets euro cent or so). They were taken to the front, make a slight bow before the statue of Buddha and patiently introduced in the most unexpected recesses of the altar or the temple walls.
Some, much more practical, it closer to monk, cross-legged on a straw mattress, amuses himself by telling tickets go. An image far removed from mysticism which is presupposed to Buddhist monks. If fortune gives a yuan, him apart, and meanwhile is making bundles of jiaos to make change to the pilgrims or tourists who do not wear loose.
These monks have another function merely collecting: charge to visitors between ten and 30 yuan per photo. No one escapes them.
The faithful spend less cramped to absorb the holiness. I try to emulate with the utmost respect, but the passage is too low and give me a painful blow on the forehead.
In one of the chapels, a rat is perched on a half-empty glass of tea (more offerings). In another, now closed, expressly prohibits the entry of women. The shelves are filled with prayer books, carved wooden tablets with up to ten centuries behind. The most popular are supposedly used to pray Buddha. The faithful spend less cramped to absorb the holiness. I try to emulate with the utmost respect, but the passage is too low and give me a painful blow on the forehead.
In another stay, women bring their children for baptism. First look into the eyes of the towering Buddha statue and whisper the name of your rod while introducing his head in a cavity at the base of the statue. There is a considerable line of devotees to venerate the image squeezed. Tenzing, our guide, not willing to wait and, to his direction, the monk on duty stopped the row to sneak, something that makes me all happy while we bow with respect. Echoes the eternal "Om mani 'and no prayer wheels stop spinning. The atmosphere, a stranger's eyes, is an unrealistic, as if we had slipped into a documentary 2 at daybreak, especially when we entered the room where the monks, kneeling on a mat, repeat their prayers, ignoring our presence.
Recovering his breath open, do the kora although Tenzing, hastily, discouraged attempts to create compelling arguments. The tour, insists, is quite hard and costs a full hour, although he, drops, is usually made in half. With this background, and upset by our insistence, try to suffocate in the opening minutes with a devilish pace over hills lined with mills and rotating banners flapping in the wind. A 4.000 meters, any extra effort is no nonsense, but one has his pride and spiritual walk leads to a gynkana. End, completed the monastery's kora 35 minutes. No tourists. He was about to. "We do not come, come to the monastery and lowered ", mumbles while trying to pace breathing again.
As we have an appetite, we sat on the terrace of the monastery dining room surrounded by the saffron robes of monks. The menu is very varied, rice and momos (a kind of yak meat dumplings), two liters of water and a couple of cups of tea, economic but: 14 yuan, something like a euro and a half. Clearly, cheaper menu of my life.
