Table Of ContentRichard Langlais
Road News
Tibet
from
With 21 Figures
Springer-Verlag
Berlin Heidelberg New York
London Paris Tokyo
Hong Kong Barcelona
Budapest
Richard Langlais
University of Goteborg
Human Ecology Section
Brogatan 4
41301 Goteborg
Sweden
ISBN-13:978-3-S40-S696S-7 e-ISBN-13:978-3-642-78363-0
DOl: 10.1007/978-3-642-78363-0
This work is subject to copyright. All rights are reserved, whether the whole or part of the material
is concerned, specifically the rights of translation, reprinting, reuse of illustrations, recitation,
broadcasting, reproduction on microfJlm or in any other way, and storage in data banks. Duplica
tion of this publication or parts thereof is permitted only under the provisions of the German
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be obtained from Springer-Verlag. Violations are liable for prosecution under the German Copy
right Law.
© Springer-Verlag Berlin Heidelberg 1993
The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, etc. in this publication does
not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are exempt from the relevant
protective laws and regnlations and therefore free for general use.
Production Editor: Renate MUnzenmayer
lYPesetting: Camera-ready by author
32/3145-5 4 3 2 1 0 - Printed on acid-free paper
This book is dedicated to the hope that
some day the great sorrow that hangs
over the spirit of all the people of Tibet
will vanish from that beautiful land.
Acknowledgements
I wish to extend my warmest thanks to Eva Hoffmann and her family. as well as my own family. for
their continuous and splendid support.
I am indebted to Professor Emin Tengstrom for having extended the resources of the Centre for
Interdisciplinary Studies at the University of Goteborg. Sweden. towards the completion of the final
camera-ready manuscript. At the Centre. Bjorn Andersson tirelessly performed the bulk of the word
processing labour. while Christian Swalander provided us with his steadying advice. To Professor
Tengstrom. Bjorn and Christian. I once again express my thanks.
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Contents
Introduction
XI
Chengdu: The Centre is the Edge
Chengdu to Kangding: The First Pass 8
Kangding to Garzt~: The Valleys of Resistance 20
Garzt~ to Dege: Propositions 46
Dege to Jomda: Beyond the Yangtze 77
Jomda to Chamdo: Ancient Hot Springs 90
Chamdo to Riwoqe: "We know where we are, but not where we're going." 114
Riwoqe to Dengqen: "Do you want to buy my Buddha?" 132
Dengqen to Sendo: Caterpillar Economy 149
Sendo to Baqen: "In the middle of the Nowhere." 162
Baqen to Nagchu: Science City 196
Lhasa: The Edge is the Centre 208
Selected Bibliography 217
Index 223
IX
Introduction
A satellite passes. It dips lower in its orbit to have a closer look at Central Asia. The sweep
of its vision glosses the Celestial Mountains and the Mountains of Chaos. Its prying lenses
probe the Taklamakhan, the Himalaya and the headwaters of Asia's greatest rivers. Mother
Ganges, the Brahmaputra and the Yellow River, the Salween, Yangtze and Mekong all lie
exposed beneath its arc. It's focus is Tibet.
At least a few satellites pass over Tibet these days. Their observations are crisp and hard,
terse and digital. Statistics are collected while hardy people sleep softly on the land below.
Most of the Tibetan people have never heard of satellites. They revere the sun, the moon
and the stars, while respecting the harsh winds that can change the temper of a day in
moments. Although some of the stars are seen to move very quickly now, the Tibetans'
spiritual centre remains Lhasa, around which their lives gravitate no matter how far away
from it their homes might be.
The Chinese, who rule Tibet from another world, continually try to deflect the Tibetans
from their preferred orbit, but in doing so they perversely ignore the Laws of Gravity. While
the Chinese have brought Relativity to the land of the lamas, all roads, especially for
Tibetans, sti11lead to Lhasa. An outsider aware of this imposition of Chinese Communism
upon Tibetan Buddhist theocracy must wonder what the reality of life in the countryside
there is like. With this curiosity uppermost in my own mind, I endeavoured, in 1986, to go
walking through as much of Tibet as I could.
From the outset and throughout my wanderings, I never knew whether I would be
allowed to continue walking wherever I chose to. Like the satellites passing overhead, I was
an alien presence, aware that I could never completely enter the lives of the Tibetans among
whom I travelled. My only hope was that my pass through their land would be low enough
so that I might be invited into their tents to drink tea with them, to hear their stories and to
feel their hunger. Six months and twelve hundred kilometres of walking later I found out
for myself the limits of my journey.
I am one ofthose Westerners for whom Tibet has always seemed most alluring. As a boy,
I searched in librairies for any books that could tell me more about the wonderful,
successive reincarnations of the Dalai Lama, of the strange effects of living at high altitudes
in freezing mountain deserts and about the Tibetan custom of sky burials. Like many others,
I fantasized that I, too, might someday walk there.
Sitting in Canada, immersed in East Asian Studies at the University of Alberta, I tried
XI
Road News From Tibet
to find all information available on conditions throughout Tibetan regions. Because I had
earlier steeped myself in the journals by the few Westerners who had travelled there
previous to the mid-1950's, I was curious as to whether the country was still plagued by
banditry and clandestine opposition to the Chinese.
All historical accounts of travel in the area include tales of travellers being turned away
before reaching their goal, often only to have all their possessions stolen, while being lucky
to escape with their lives. In recent years, there have also been rumours that fierce battles
have been fought against the Chinese, especially in Kham, a region comprising eastern
Tibet and most of western Sichuan. Hill tribes isolated among the complex maze of
mountains and valleys that mark the zone of transition between areas traditionally Tibetan
and those controlled by the Chinese have always had an extreme sense of territoriality,
which they expressed against anyone infringing on their domain. Difficult to travel
through, in any case, because of frequent landslides, floods and poor availability of food,
the area has always given travellers much pause to reconsider the wisdom of entering there.
In the library, it soon became obvious to me that almost all of the sparse information
available about current conditions in Tibet concerned Lhasa, the capital city, to which
journalists and other foreigners have had much more ready access since 1980. The idea
began to grow that, if indeed I was going to satisfy my curiosity about conditions in the vast,
lightly populated areas which comprise all the rest of Tibet, I would have to go there myself.
So many questions intrigued me, but no quests through library stacks could resolve
them. Were there still skirmishes between guerillas and the Chinese? Could the nomads
continue to live in their black tents? What effects of the Cultural Revolution were still in
place? How was political power shared, if at all, in outlying districts? Did many Tibetans
speak Chinese? Were traditional food staples still being eaten? Had any schools, or other
effects of modernization such as hospitals, land reform, or electricity distribution been
established? Was there television in Tibet? Would I be able to walk there, while camping
in my own tent, with occasional stays in the tents of the nomads? These and many other
questions made me decide to leave for Tibet as soon as I could.
In deciding to write a book about my findings, there were several factors, besides the
dearth of information already mentioned, which made me feel that it would be of use to
others. Although I knew that some other Westerners had, in the previous few years,
managed to hitch-hike their way from Sichuan through eastern Tibet towards Lhasa, none
had covered any appreciable amount of the distance on foot. lf I were to do so, I thought,
it would provide me with the best opportunity to learn about everyday life there. Another
asset was that I spoke Chinese, which I had spent several years learning in preparation for
just such a journey.
I wagered that, since Chinese was the language of Tibet's occupiers, in almost every
situation involving the inhabitants, whether Chinese or Tibetan, there would inevitably be
someone around who spoke Chinese. My later experience there proved this supposition to
be correct most of the time. While it would have been best if I'd been fluent in both Tibetan
and Chinese, learning just the latter had already been so all-consuming that I had to be
content with it. In any event, it seemed to me that if I could only go to Tibet as a speaker
of one of the two important languages there, then there were advantages in its being
XII
Introduction
Chinese. Since almost none of the Chinese, as it turned out, could speak any Tibetan at all,
whereas many of the Tibetans had learned at least basic Chinese, then, by speaking Chinese
myself, I would have access to the greatest diversity of opinions. Once again, other
Chinese-or Tibetan-speaking Westerners had passed through eastern Tibet in recent years,
but they had travelled primarily in vehicles. With my combination of possessing one of the
two major languages and of going along on foot, I felt that I could provide at least some
otherwise unobtainable insights for the benefit of those interested in knowing the real
situation in the area.
Another element had much to do with the outcome of my plan. As most people know,
Tibet had long practiced a strict policy of isolation towards the outside world. This was
continued by the Chinese after their takeover of the country. Then, in 1980, small groups
of guided tourists were allowed to visit Lhasa in restricted circumstances. Further relaxa
tion of controls ensued until, by 1985, even independent travellers were permitted
relatively free access to the city. This was gradually extended to the point where Chinese
officials began to look the other way when foreigners visited places outside of Lhasa that
were supposedly off-limits. The key was to avoid asking whether or not something was
allowed. Then the officials would not have to say no.
Each year Tibet was further opened to visitors. The Chinese, in their press releases,
predicted that within just a few more years, upwards of sixty thousand tourists each year
would be staying in luxury hotels in Tibet. In 1987, however, the barriers were hurriedly
thrown back up again. Increasing unrest among the Tibetans, whose patience with the
Chinese-controlled pace of liberalization was becoming strained beyond the tolerance
level, caused the Chinese to panic. Journalists and independent travellers were prohibited
from visting Tibet. Suddenly, the situation was thrown back to 1980 status; only tightly
reined small groups were given access. It should not be surprising to realize that, in a
complex mix of factors, the rapid influx of large numbers of foreigners, who to a large
degree were favourable to the Tibetan cause, provided a destabilizing influence. Practically
speaking, the country had been open to independent travellers for barely three years.
This "window of opportunity" provided only a heartbreakingly brief period in which an
interested observer could hope to gain any clear insight at all into the reality of Tibet's
sorrow. I feel fortunate to have been able to manage a six-month stay in Tibet before the
renewed clampdown. In that time I walked approximately 1200 kilometres through eastern
Tibet. Every day I met Tibetans and Chinese who were travelling the same trails and roads
as I was. Often we walked along together through the barren highlands; often each of us
sought only to relieve the tedium that walking endlessly in hot, dry desert can create.
Usually, the mutual satisfaction of both curiosity and the craving for ~ompanionship were
equally irresistible side-effects of our having matched strides. When walking together, all
parties seemed to share a sense that there was much to learn from the others. This
participant, at least, can vouch for all that he feels his companions have taught him.
The title for this book is derived from the Asian conception of gossip as that which can
be heard along the highways and pathways that reach everywhere. Like the "grapevine" in
English, "road news" may not always be entirely accurate, but the essence of the informa-
XIII
