I can no longer remember when “Tibet” found its way back into my mind—a name I had thought existed only in geography textbooks or news reports about the Dalai Lama.
But rather than a place name, Tibet seemed more like Pandora’s box to me: mysterious and beautiful enough to stir curiosity, yet sadly bringing with it an unstoppable darkness. Unlike the myth, however, all the darkness is trapped inside the box, piling up higher and higher, while the one remaining hope seems to drift farther and farther away…
[ This is actually pretty terrifying ]
I suppose it began toward the end of last year (2014). After travelling through Cambodia, Vietnam, and Thailand within two months and successfully crowning myself the Little Princess of Southeast Asia (chest out proudly) (who even gave me that title?), I kept visiting ancient religious ruins, living Buddhist cultures, and ethnic minority communities. Before I knew it, I had become deeply fascinated by all these colours and started wondering: where would intrigue me most next? That was probably when Tibet connected inside my brain at the speed of a 56K dial-up modem—beep… beep… boop… boop…
At a point when I was leaving my job, changing direction in life, and wanting to clear out and reorganise my mind—and when not going that autumn would mean waiting until the following spring—I set foot in this “place name” I had never imagined I would actually reach: Tibet.
[ Standing 3,650 metres above sea level, my body was in hell while my eyes were in heaven ]
“If I could see it for myself, I could easily tell blue skies from green waters…”
“Is the ‘Tibetan blue’ people talk about the muddled blue of a halftone photo in a textbook?”
Until you see Tibet’s scenery with your own eyes, you can never quite believe the photos spat out by the almighty Google. Could there really be a world where mountains rise as though they hold up the sky, grasslands stretch endlessly onward, and both sky and water are so blue they are almost sapphire?
Mm-hmm~ (nods)
[ Just when I thought Yamdrok Lake was beautiful, a few days later I saw the even more beautiful Namtso ]
In Tibet, just when you think the view before you is already beautiful, you turn a corner and discover that what lies beyond is even more beautiful. Eventually, you can no longer decide which is prettier, because all day long you see nothing but “beautiful,” “very beautiful,” and “super beautiful” scenery, competing only by the tiniest margins. There seems to be no actual lower benchmark, and sothe standards I had lived by for more than twenty years were suddenly thrown completely out of alignment.。
No wonder those 10 days in Tibet felt like a dream after I returned—the new standards I had formed there suddenly ceased to exist. But perhaps Tibet really is best suited to occupying that dreamlike, almost unreal place in my mind!
[ At Namtso, I could no longer tell which was the sky, which was the lake, or which was water—or perhaps it all looked like the sea ]
I have no religion. I only knew of the Dalai Lama, had heard the term “prayer wheel,” and had seen photos of worshippers prostrating themselves.
Yet until you witness the focus and devotion Tibetans bring to their faith, it is difficult to grasp the immense power of religion.
[ To be honest, before I looked closely, I wondered why someone had face-planted on the ground ]
Of course, without experiencing it firsthand, it is even harder to truly understand how political power is reshaping this land.
Even the briefest glimpse of it can send a chill down your spine.
[ The poster for the 40th anniversary celebrations 10 years ago looked exactly like this too ]
After returning to Taiwan, I was determined to document this journey, yet I could never figure out where to begin. Only then did I realise how complicated my feelings about Tibet were.
Perhaps the shock was simply too great. This was a place whose magnificent scenery left me speechless, with a religious pull that inspired profound respect. Yet all of it was entangled with the complex politics and religion of both past and present, ending in an uneasy future that I did not know how to hope for.
I can no longer tell whether I love this place or not. All I know is that “I think I’ll come back someday”—though for now, it remains only a “maybe.”
[ More twisted than a pile of intestines: the unavoidable road to Everest Base Camp ]
So I decided to entrust it all to words, hoping that as I organised these stories on my blog, I could also untangle the thoughts in my head. There would inevitably be thrilling stories, speechless moments, probably some funny and entertaining ones, some ordinary ones, and even some heavy ones;there might be many posts—perhaps equipped with a magical treasure bowl that makes them multiply the more I write. Afraid of leaving anything out, I am trying to gather its many facets, again and again.。
[ The five-coloured prayer flags that symbolise Tibet—but how many blessings can they truly bring Tibetans today? ] ]
The 10 days I spent in Tibet sound long but were actually very short, yet they somehow left me with the same feeling of having been away for ages asmy Europe tripthat lasted three months. It was also a place that left me even more curious and interested in the local culture after I had gone. Perhaps Tibet still holds a mysterious attraction for me. Reading books, watching films, and writing down my memories after those 10 days on the road marked the beginning of another journey.
Tibet: I went, and then I came back
[ Tibetans come to worship at the sacred lake with devout hearts. What about travellers like us? Perhaps we, too, are stones disturbing paradise ] ]
“Is it difficult to travel to Tibet?”
There are challenges, and it can be tough, but it really is not that difficult.
The dream that once seemed impossibly distant turned out to be only one flight away.
“Must everyone visit Tibet once in their lifetime?”
It is absolutely worth visiting.
But I do not think there is anywhere in the world that everyone absolutely must visit… is there?
✈ Travel dates: 2015/10/3-2015/10/16
| Tibet 西藏踢北去 | Series: (Travel dates: 2015/10/3-2015/10/16)
● Lifting the veil on Tibet with my own eyes—a dream I once thought was beyond reach
● Already at Tibet’s doorstep in Chengdu—but would I actually make it there?
● Finally setting foot in Lhasa, breathing the legendary thin air and battling altitude sickness
● The Potala Palace, spiritual heart of the Tibetan people—but perhaps we were not the only ones drained by the altitude
● Searching for the true heart of Tibetan Lhasa: overwhelmed by the power of faith at Jokhang Temple and in the Old Town
● A road trip that pushed body and mind to new limits, heading east from Lhasa to Nyingchi (Part 1—Mila Pass and the toilet chronicles)
