Annual Report 2008

The Tibetan Centre for Human Rights and Democracy
Annual Report 2008

In retrospect, the year 2008 witnessed one of the most repressive periods with unprecedented violations of Tibetan people’s human rights and freedom by the Chinese authorities in Tibet. The Chinese authorities responded with overwhelming force to suppress cascaded protests beginning 10 March which later swept across much of the ethnic Tibetan areas by the end of the March this year. It is highly deplorable and condemnable that the People’s Republic of China (PRC), despite being a permanent member of the United Nations Security Council and a state party to UN treaties on human rights, fails to respect and uphold the basic principles set forth in the UDHR and that the most blatant forms of violations are regularly occurring in the region with impunity. Chinese authorities continue to practice a systematic denial of human rights of the Tibetan people. Mr. Wang Chen, director of the State Council Information Office, acknowledged human rights problems in China by saying that human rights development still has “quite a few things less than satisfactory,”1 but would see progress as the modernization drive went on. However, the Chinese authorities continue to commit the most blatant human rights violations that are inconsistent with the Constitutions and the International laws. China even failed to fulfil several Olympics related commitments including press freedom, media access, the free flow of information, and freedom of assembly.

“For us, access to news is blocked; we are not allowed to watch news or put up a satellite dish nor are we allowed to listen/watch news from the United States and other foreign countries. We are ordered to watch and listen to domestic broadcasts. We are told not to listen to foreigners nor to talk to them. As such, where is the freedom of expression?”


Monks of Drepung Monastery marching towards Lhasa City on 10 March 2008

Chinese Premier Wen Jiabao in an interview with CNN during the inauguration of the UN General Assembly said; “…In the freedom of speech and the freedom in news media coverage are guaranteed in China. The Chinese government attaches importance to, and protects, human rights. We have incorporated these lines into the Chinese constitution, and we also implement the stipulation in real earnest. I think for any government, what is most important is to ensure that its people enjoy each and every right given to them by the constitution…. I don’t think a system or a government should fear critical opinions or views.”35 Such repeated claims were also made by Zhang Jun, vice president of the Supreme People’s court by saying that “…citizens have the rights to express their ideas under the legal system, which includes suggestions to and criticisms on the government. The rights are protected by law and Constitution.”36 However, in the backdrop of recent series of protests across the Tibetan plateau since March this year, the freedom of expression took a real beating as otherwise gallantly pronounced in the Constitution and other major international covenants, to which the PRC is a signatory.


Chinese Security Personnel policing the internet

The Tibetan writer and blogger, Tsering Woeser, has been the target of threats and hacker attacks because of her articles about the situation in Tibet. Her blog and Skype (Internet telephone) account were hacked on 27 May.41 “My password was changed and I can no longer connect to my account”, she told Reporters Without Borders (Reporters Sans Frontieres - RSF), referring to her Skype account. “As far as I can tell, the hacker is already in communication with some of my contacts, which puts them in a situation as dangerous as mine”. Woeser, whose books have been banned and who lives in Beijing, has been placed under house arrest and has been prevented from travelling abroad. The authorities have also pressured her husband, essayist Wang Lixiong. Because readers in China have no access to her books, Woeser has made extensive

“They would hang me up for several hours with my hands tied to a rope….. hanging from the ceiling and my feet above the ground. Then they would beat me on my face, chest, and back, with the full force of their fists. Finally, on one occasion, I had lost consciousness and was taken to a hospital. After I regained consciousness at the hospital, I was once again taken back to prison where they continued the practice of hanging me from the ceiling and beating me”

This was not the first time that the use of torture for and inhuman treatment of the Tibetan protesters came to be known but the year rather witnessed one of the most ruthless suppressions of the Tibetan people by the Chinese agencies. Except for a couple of isolated cases, the protests were by and large very peaceful conforming to non-violent standards. However, the authorities’ brutality and use of force were far disproportionate to the threat posed by peaceful protesters. The Centre registered at least 120 known deaths of Tibetans as a direct result of armed retaliations by the law enforcement agencies during and after the protests. The Centre is particularly concerned about the treatment of hundreds of Tibetans detained as a response to the protests in Tibet. Torture and ill-treatment tend to flourish in an environment characterized by secrecy, lack of transparency, failure to respect fair trial rights and lack of accountability, such conditions were fertile for the high prevalence of torture ever more in Tibet after the unrest. In order to hide its repression in Tibet, Beijing sealed off virtually the entire plateau to foreign journalists and observers and imposed information blackout despite promising increasing openness in the buildup to and after the Olympic games. For these reasons the Centre fears for the safety and well-being of those now in detention or disappeared since March this year. Tibet has witnessed one of the highest number of deaths from torture this year. Torture is routinely and systematically employed by the law enforcement agencies in detention centers, police stations and prisons in order to break Tibetan nationalistic sentiment and in order to spread a message of intimidation to those who dare to question the state and its officials. In some cases Tibetans have died as a direct result of torture whilst in custody of the law enforcement agencies and while others were released in their near death condition from torture in order to shun responsibility.

Nechung: 38-year-old Nechung, a mother of four children died days after being subjected to brutal torture in the Chinese prison. She hailed from Charu Hu Village in Ngaba County, Ngaba “TAP” Sichuan Province. After participating in peaceful protests on 16 and17 March 2008 in Ngaba County, she was arrested on 18 March for allegedly being the first person to pull down the doorplate of the Township office.72 On 26 March 2008, she was released from the prison in a critical condition after spending nine days in prison undergoing brutal torture at the hands of prison guards. There were bruise marks on her body, she was unable to speak or eat properly, constantly vomiting and had difficulties while breathing. After the release, her relatives immediately took her to the County government hospital for treatment. However, the County government hospital refused to admit her to the hospital for timely medical treatment, apparently under influence and intimidation of the local authorities. After remaining in critical condition for 22 days without medical treatment she died on 17 April 2008 in an abject state of neglect and apathy of local authorities. Even after her death, the authorities issued a terse warning to Tibetan monks for offering prayers and ritual rites for the deceased soul.


A 40 year old Ghegyam from Soru Ma Village, Amdo who was killed in 16 March 2008.

Dawa: Dawa, a 31 year old farmer died on 1 April 2008 after being subjected to brutal torture by the Chinese prison guards.

Paltsal Kyab, (age around 45) a Tibetan from Sichuan province, died on 26 May 2008, five weeks after he was detained by police in connection with protests which had taken place in and around Tibet since mid-March 2008. According to eyewitnesses, severe injuries to his body suggested that he had died as a result of brutal torture in police custody.

Legtsok: 75-year old Legtsok of Ngaba Gomang Monastery committed suicide on 30 March 2008. Days before committing suicide, Legtsok accompanied by two other monks while on their way to perform prayer rituals at the house of a Tibetan family encountered a large contingent of Chinese security forces heading towards Ngaba Gomang Monastery to quell the protesting peaceful monks at the monastery. The Chinese forces brutally beat Legtsok and detained him for a few days. Later he was released and sent back to the monastery. He repeatedly told his two disciples “he can’t bear the oppression anymore”.


A 16 year old Lhundup Tso who was killed in 16 March 2008 in Amdo Ngaba.

in Human Rights Situation in Tibet: Annual Report 2008

About China and Tibet

China's Brutality in Tibet Exposed

Massoud l'Afghan

Massoud l'Afghan Part 1
An excellent documentary by the late Christophe de Ponfilly..


Massoud l'Afghan Part 2
Massoud l'Afghan Part 3
Massoud l'Afghan Part 4
Massoud l'Afghan Part 5
Massoud l'Afghan Part 6
Massoud l'Afghan Part 7
Massoud l'Afghan Part 8
Massoud l'Afghan Part 9

Afrobeat Fever no.2

11. Fela Anikulapo Kuti - Chop and Quench
12. Fela Anikulapo Kuti - You No Go Die Unless You
13. The Martins Brothers Dance Band - Ochonma
14. Fela Anikulapo Kuti - Fight To Finish
15. Monomono ft. Baba Ken OkuloloTire Loma Da Nigbehin
16. K.Frimpong & His Cubano Fiestas - Hwehwe Mu Na Yi Wo Mpena
17. Monomono ft. Baba Ken Okulolo - What do you want from Begger
18. Orchestre Veve Star - Bassala Hot
19. Chakachas - Jungle Funk
20. Charles Atangana and Emitais - Onguindo
21. Fela Anikulapo Kuti - Gbagada Gbagada Gbagodo Gbogodo

Afrobeat Fever (No. 2)

World Passport

INDIA

Dalhousie

I heard a morning Qawali song on my way out of Dalhousie. A soft one with no percussion it was just a sad voice and harmonium. It was coming from the town hung on the steep slope. One could here it over the scarps of the mountain range.



The journey from Pathankot to Dalhousie leaves the Indian hot and arid plain through a sudden change of landscape to a rather steep climbing until we reach 2000m. I could see the immensity of that southern plain and also its dryness, according more to the general idea of Indian terrain. That contrasting rupture with the appearance of fertile foothills turning into high mountains marked the beginning, the birth of the Himalayan range. On the way up the landscape was turning into dark green alpine forests, a relief from the heat of the dust of the Punjabi desert, as if somebody was finally taking that hot burden off from my shoulders.

We halted for a while at Dunera, a tiny spot on the way. Not much were seen over there just a nice impression of orange juices and chili seeds among the street vendors.

There were local Christian nuns on the bus, a rarity in those places. I remembered crucifixion and the blood in the palms, Christians were burning and lute solos were heard. When the boys asked his whereabouts, they replied he was foolishly, playing with betel nuts.

The old colonial British houses looked like to be filled with ghosts and spider webs, maybe rats and corroded chains. Some abandoned in a dirty advanced state of putrefaction.

Some bloke grabbed me by my harm at the station and brought me to a rather nice slump where I would come to stay for a few days. Good deals can be made in wintertime during the touristic off-season, I was given a veranda with views to the scarped alpine slopes, and more interesting with chairs.



It´s really happening at exactly the same time in a faraway place, I always thought it was a tale you read on books or see in movies, but it´s really happening, living several infinities of realities at the same time.

During the first hours in Dalhousie, I fell into what I call the traveler´s dilemma, the stupid question "what am I doing here?" was constantly bursting into my mind.

Early the next morning I had the answer, from Ghandi Chowk right from the middle of the square, I could see the horizon line, the snow capped summits of the Pir Panjal forming a natural barrier hiding Kashmir and Jammu.

Those mythological gardens stood forbidden to me (and others) because of the political cul-de-sac created after the bloody partition. Indian TV used to show killings in their news everyday, four, five separatists down today, their dead corpses lined up at the boots of soldiers in turbans. I remarked only one percent of this information about the war in Kashmir was getting to the West. Nonetheless, everyday...

From Gandhi Chowk the Pir Panjal and the Himalayan system appears in an almost 180 degrees panoramic view which made those tired thoughts of mine, vanished completely. The Himalayan peaks of snow in the morning light were just presenting all their majesty and true beauty before my sight. What hidden gardens and stories of death were to be seen and heard in those secret valleys?

In Dalhousie, there are colored religious Tibetan low-relief carved paintings on the rocks along the way to Subbash Chowk, Padmasambahva and other Buddhas and heroes amidst the hordes of wild monkeys in the trees.

The Tibetans have a market at Gandhi Chwok that looks like a cave or a tunnel. Their exile in a foreign land have probably made them hide from the sun.



In the nomad´s tent I saw a huge crowd of Tibetan monks, the Kashmiri Muslim coolies with ropes on their shoulders and Hindu women dressed up in saris, wrapped in a Indian shawl, I saw them vanishing in a mirage.

There was a graffiti on the Pathankot´s station's walls that said "Read Vedas". A poster of the Revolutionary Students was hanging underneath one of the rightist party. On the poster you could read "The world is ours".

And then with a speech of the size of the universal soul and a voice like thunder, the beggar guiding with both hands on his shoulders the sick boy with Christmas garlands at his forehead, and dressed up like a holy man, burst before me like some kind of vision from another world. The boys were turning into holy men and the saddhu was just an arrogant beggar.

ÍNDIA

Dalhousie

Ouvia-se um canto Qawali quando deixei Dalhousie. Calmo sem percussão, apenas com uma voz triste e harmónio. Vinha da vila que se pendurava na encosta agreste. Podia-se ouvir por cima dos topos das montanhas.



A jornada de Patankhot para Dalhousie, através de uma mudança repentina de paisagem, deixa as planícies quentes e áridas indianas, para uma subida abrupta que mais tarde atinge os 2000m. Consegue-se ver a imensidão da planície indiana mas também a aridez da mesma que mais se assemelha com a ideia geral da paisagem indiana. Esta contrastante ruptura com o aparecimento dos férteis sopés que se tornam altas montanhas, marca o princípio, o nascimento do sistema himalaico. À medida que se vai subindo, a paisagem transforma-se em florestas alpinas de cor verde escuro, um alívio do calor da poeira do deserto punjabi, como se finalmente, alguém removia dos meus ombros este fardo ardente.

Fizemos uma paragem momentânea em Dunera, um minúsculo ponto no caminho. Não era um sítio de grande interesse, mas ficou-me uma impressão agradável de sumos de laranja e odores de sementes de chili por entre os vendedores de rua.

Encontravam-se cristãos locais no autocarro, uma raridade nestas paragens. Lembrei-me da crucificação, e do sangue nas palmas, ardiam cristãos e ouviam-se solos de alaúde. Quando os rapazes perguntaram por ele, responderam de maneira tosca, brincando com nozes de bétele.

As mansões coloniais britânicas pareciam estar repletas de fantasmas e de teias de aranha, e talvez de ratos e correntes enferrujadas. Algumas abandonadas num estado sujo de avançada putrefacção.

Um fulano agarrou-me pelo braço na estação e trouxe-me até uma espelunca relativamente agradável, onde eu iria acabar por permanecer alguns dias. Bons preços podem ser combinados durante o Inverno, após o fim da estação turística. Deram-me uma varanda com vistas para as abruptas encostas alpinas, e mais interessante ainda, com cadeiras.



Isto tudo está realmente a acontecer neste preciso momento num lugar distante, sempre pensei que era um conto que se lia em livros ou se via em filmes, mas está realmente a acontecer, e vive algumas infinidades de realidades num só mesmo momento.

Durante as primeiras horas em Dalhousie, caí no que eu chamo o dilema do viajante, a pergunta estúpida “o que é que estou aqui a fazer?” estava constantemente a irromper na minha cabeça. Cedo, na manhã seguinte, tive a resposta. De Ghandi Chowk, mesmo no meio da praça pública, podia ver a linha do horizonte, ou melhor, os cumes repletos de neve do Pir Panjal, que formavam uma barreira natural escondendo da minha vista o Caxemira e Jamú.

Estes mitológicos jardins ficavam proibidos para mim (e para outros) por causa do beco sem saída político criado após a partição sangrenta. A televisão indiana mostrava mortes todos os dias nos noticiários, quatro, cinco separatistas abatidos hoje, os corpos mortos alinhados às botas dos soldados em turbantes. Repara-se que apenas um por cento desta informação acerca da guerra no Caxemira chegava ao ocidente. Mesmo assim, todos os dias …

Em Dalhousie, podem ver-se coloridos baixos relevos religiosos, esculpidos pelos tibetanos no caminho que leva até Subbash Chowk, Padmasambava e outros budas, e heróis, no caminho onde abundam legiões de macacos selvagens.

Os tibetanos têm um mercado em Ghandi Chowk que mais parece uma cave ou um túnel. O exílio deles numa terra estrangeira deve ter-lhes feito fugir do sol.

De Ghandi Chowk, o Pir Panjal e o sistema himalaico aparecem numa vista panorâmica de quase 180 graus completos, e que fizeram com que as minhas dúvidas sombrias e obsessivas desaparecessem totalmente dos meus pensamentos cansados. Os picos himalaicos de neve na luz matinal apresentavam toda a sua majestade e verdadeira beleza antes os meus olhos. Que jardins escondidos e histórias de morte estavam para ser descobertos e ouvidos nestes vales secretos?



Na tenda do nómada, vi uma imensa multidão de monges tibetanos, os portadores caxemirenses, com as cordas aos ombros e as mulheres hindus vestidas em saris, embrulhadas em xailes indianos, vi-os desvanecerem numa miragem.
Podiam ler-se uns grafitis numa das paredes da estação de Pathankot que diziam: “Leiam os Vedas”. Um poster dos Estudantes Revolucionários estava pendurado mesmo debaixo de outro do partido de direita. No poster lia-se: “ O mundo é seu”.

E com um discurso do tamanho da alma universal e uma voz como trovão, o pedinte com as duas mãos nos ombros dele, guiava o rapaz doente com guirlandas de natal na fronte e vestido como um homem santo, irromperam à minha frente mais parecendo uma visão de outro mundo. Os rapazes tornaram-se homens santos e o sadú era apenas um pedinte arrogante.

NEPAL

Maps

I post here a few maps that were missing at the time, I took a few photocopies that I got on the way, nothing very precise. The lack of information can delay, mislead or equivocate the journey. Guides are always out of date or simply don't exist.

Nepal

Jiri - Jumbesi - Região do Everest

Katmandú - Sul Nepal

Katmandú

NEPAL

Budanath

I went to Nepal with almost no information, the decision was improvised after a few days spent in Bodgaya.



Katmandhu was the begining and the end of my journey in Nepal. To run from the unbearable heat of the Indian spring, I decided to cross the border with Nepal and make a drastic change of altitude. It was 40 degrees in Lucknow at nine o'clock in the morning, a merely 100 metres by foot meant to get completely soaked in my own sweat.
That was in April, May. And about eating, that was impossible. My organism was just refusing to swallow any kind of local spiced food, it simply burnt horribly down my esophagus in such a way that I couldn't feed myself properly.



Only cereals, yogurts and such light food were accepted. I must have lost a fair number of kilos after Varanasi. From there I went to Bihar. The extreme heat of one of the poorest regions of India has ended with any residue of good will that was left. I had to go up. To change of altitude. So, Nepal that was.

Swayambunath

The entrance into Nepal is done through the Terai, a region still in the plains at the foothills of the high mountains, with a climate, a vegetation and fauna very specific. A area ideal to see elephants and other big mammals. The region is also sensitive to outbreaks of malaria that are usually heavily fatal.



After the Terai, still very alike the Indian plains, the road starts to climb gradually. A huge difference can be felt between the climates of low and medium altitude. A relieve for the empoverished Western metabolism.



Katmandhu is rather agreeable, despite the abundant hippie folkclore, which, by what I understood, almost disappeared to give place to the regular incarnations of controlled turism. My photocopies mentioned a place called Freak Street which, it seems, was a famous destination in the seventies, if I saw it I didn't notice it.



Katmandhu is a good place to recover energies, rest a bit, and get ready for some more. From there I wanted to get into Tibet through the only border that connects the two "countries", but after a vain research, I've found out, that the border was closed to individual travellers. To find a group of four people, and pay the prices and impositions of the Chinese tourism, would be very difficult and oppressing to me.



So I've stayed a few weeks in Katmandhu, drifting through cafés, bookshops and places before going to Jiri and to the high Hymalayas. Then I came back a few weeks later, the North being a cul-de-sac.



I've tried to take advantage of my spare time to see the local places of interest, but I missed some important spots like the ghats, the shores of the river. I had a few outdated fotocopies as a guide, and nothing else, that's why. Nevertheless I didn't miss a jewel like Budanath, one of the biggest and most impressive stupas of the Tibetan Buddhism universe. Swayabunath, the monkey temple, I also did not.



Aware of the fact that embassies and consulates are located in the capital, I decided to get a visa for Pakistan, my new alternative to Tibet, and another one, a transit visa to cross India to Amritsar, the border with Pakistan. The bloody visa cost me a fortune, contrarily to my Belgian friend, who got his for a much cheaper price, and that probably due to agreements between governments.



As far as I understood, Portugal wouldn't be, at the time, on their lists, nor should have diplomatic relations with Pakistan, a misery. Yves stared at me with a mocking expression, for getting a much cheaper visa than mine. One of his few victories.



We split after a memorable walk through the ways that lead to Everest. I've followed to India, this time by the Western side of Nepal, and then to the border with Pakistan. I don't believe in paranormal phenomema, but extraordinarily, I came to meet him again a few weeks later in Beijing, a few good thousand of miles to the North, and in the middle of a crowd that can only exist in Beijing, a city of more tham 11 million of inhabitants. To my big surprise, there he was standing, enjoying one of those countless popular bawls, usually organised in the street by the neighbourhoods during the hot days of summer.



The big terrace was right next to where we were, full of people, of glasses of beer and of multitudes of Chinese little dishes that are usual in those restaurants in open air. A street thing.



I use to say to myself, the skies are different, the gods are diferrent. A formula that I won't forget, also valid to cross any unknown terrain.

Katmandhu

Katmandhu - Durbar Square

NEPAL

Jumbesi - Thubten Choling

After three days of walk, we arrived at a village called Jumbesi. We had the incredible luck to arrive the day of the begining of the Buddha Purnima, the festivities celebrating the anniversary of the Buddha Shakyamuni, which logically, happen only once a year, and following the obscure Tibetan lunar calendar. Jumbesi is an elegant small village in between green mountains, and it's an interesting halt to do, given all the monastaries that surround it. Looking closely at the well maintained and attractive aspect of the place, it probably receives a lot of outsiders.



When we'd finished exploring the little village, we joined the procession of people who came out of the temple, holding portraits of the Buddha. After a short walk through the hamlet, we ended up at the local monastery, where they left the effigies, and where the population gathered inside. They offered us tea and cookies, and Yves who stayed there longer than me was offered lunch, me, I went out to take a look at the surroundings. Later on, we met again, and decided to go to another monastery, named Thubten Choling which lays further, and is surrounded by an entire village of Buddhist students, who live there to graduate in Tibetan Buddhist philosophy.

Jumbesi - Buda Purnima

We were only three days from Jiri, but Yves didn't want to continue, he was arguing that he had enough, that he had walked more than a week, with the so-called guide paying drinks to everybody, he wanted to go back. To me, it meant to go on with other travellers or to come back with him. The initial idea of the trek that we'd agreed between ourselves, was not to get to Mount Everest but to get the closest possible to have the best possible view of the so named black pyramide. But from Jumbesi, we had no view at all, at least of the Everest. Yves was tired and didn't want to go on.



There was a group of Danish goddesses in our inn, with guides, porters, and gear, a real expedition, in which were only missing the litters, and slaves who would carry them up the mountains.I didn't feel like joining the group, and I was improvising for quite a while, that is travelling with no route, no map, following tides and winds, I decided to go back with him. The period allowed by my visa was also running short. Even though, three days one way added to three days the other, plus the day off, that maked one week in the Nepalese Solo Khumbu. That was enough to taste the local delicacies and other dishes, I would have continued of free will. In an other incarnation probably.



On the way, we've met two Frenchmen who were coming back from the Everest base camp, they were in a terrible state. They told me that Garcia, the Portuguese alpinist who already had done one climb to the summit of the mountain, was in the region for a second atempt. Later, I came to know that the climbing had been successful, we almost met. Garcia had lost one of his companion during the first ascencion. A citizen of Belgian nationality.



I couldn't stop myself from staring at my fellow mate who was doing the trek with me, also of Belgian nationality. What a weird coindidence... Nothing happened to us. We arrived at Jiri, and went on to Katmandhu. We had got a discount from a taxidriver who had brought another alpinism goddess and his guide. Some people are really ready to pay any price to live extraordinary adventures, and agencies who feed that hunger. Well ... We'd chosen the version without guides and travel agencies. It also has its price, but much more freedom of choice and of decision.



I saw a green lizard one meter and a half long cross the road, it almost caused an accident. We had left the highest mountains, and its snow peaks, and went back to the jungle, lowest in altitude, of Katmandhu's regions. The landscapes are always mind-blowing, whatever the altitude.



As the events came to prove it in 2007, 2008, the several regions that I crossed were full of communist graffities, all throughout the country, mainly villages walls painted with communist icons. That was intriguing me at the time, but I came to understand it better when the Maoist made the world news talk about them. As it seems they've abandoned the government with which they'd formed a coalition, not being able bring down the absolute monarchy which reigns for several centuries in Nepal.I don't think that stability will come back so soon to the highest country of the world, both factions are guilty of abuses and crimes that will not resolve, in any possible way the extreme poverty that rules Nepal.

Solo Khumbu - Thado Khola

NEPAL

mali

Once in Katmandu, the initial idea was to get into Tibet through the unique border between Nepal and China. After a long and intensive search, it came up that the border was closed to individual travellers, due to political problems, that was the official version. More probably, because of problems caused by former travellers, who interfered with the Chinese administration policies, of the occupied region. Because of some, others carry the consequences.

the road after Jiri

These are mechanisms that aim to make tourists or travellers form groups of four people, at least, which will be accepted by the Chinese authorities, obviously for being easier to control than individuals. To these groups a guide, a Land Rover, are attributed by the travel agents, and of course at a price that will beat all records. The guide will be in charge to give not to much freedom of movement, in order to let no one interfere with the affairs considered internal by Beijing. I tried to stick to a group of Americans , who were at the Chinese embassy, but the Americans were not in the mood.

sete

So I forgot the Tibetan hypothesis, for being impracticable, and decided to take a closer look at the snow mountains. From the sparse information I had with me, the best option and the closer that I could get was called Jiri. Jiri was the starting point for Everest expeditions, before the airport at Namche Bazaar was built.



From Jiri, you can get a straight walk of 20 or more days to the fifth base camp of mount Everest, or put in other word the foot of the mountain. Hillary, the first to get to the top of the Everest, came out of Katmandhu, I don't have the exact figures but it must have taken more than a month walking. Nowadays, the Namche Bazaar airport, located near the mountain, shortens the initial trail, and offers an aerial base to the expeditions to the highest peak of the world.



In Jiri, I've met Yves, a traveller of Belgian nationality, who looked a bit lost at the time. He told me that he started the above mentioned trail with a Nepali guide, and that he had asked him his payment in advance. It happened that after a week of walking, the fellow had spent all his money in drinks, paying rounds to friends he 'd found at the different stages.

kenja

He had to come back because Yves didn't want to pay for more. It was during these desperate times that I've found him.
After a conversation, we decided to hit the road without any guide. We left part of the weight from our backpacks at the lodge, and followed the same trail he had first taken.

lamajura (3500)

The first day is the most difficult, you can consider it the warming period. I remember seeing Yves waiting for me at the top of the way, at our first stop in Deurali, the pass that leads to the other region, to Bandar.



The walk, the trekking can be compared to a job, you wake up, and at 8 o'clock you start to walk, that is until 17, 18h when you feel like, and after deciding democratically. Anyway, I only was left behind during the first day, after that he started to feel the drinks and the cigarettes at Brussels Grand Place. Why should I excuse myself?

deurali

We stayed at Deurali during the first night, and the following day we went down towards Bandar. I had in mind the 3500m of Lamajura, a bit further ahead, but when we got there, it was a mountain pass on a flat extension of some kilometres, the place was covered by fog, or better we had our heads in the clouds.



Willing to compensate the loss of landscape and the humidity of the event, we've chosen a cosy place with big cushions and carpets, in order to taste the local stews.
We walked like that during three days, enjoying the local delicacies, until Jumbesi, where we decided to take a day off.



These are the mani stones, engraved with prayers, inscriptions and sketches, and other religious ornaments. They are found all through the way, and should be circunambulated from the left side. These are found in Deurali.









After some "exploring" of the surroundings, I've found a field covered with prayer flags, you can find them in all regions dedicated to Tibetan Buddhism. The wind should carry the writings on the flags and take the prayers to every place.



This is a view I got, looking back at the way we'd done so far. It should be in Jiri's direction.

bandar

In bandar, we've found a empty small temple, colourful and full of religious paintings. Demchog, protectors and other irate manisfestations of the deities. Well, Demchog is older than Tibetan Buddhism itself and supposedly subjugated by the guardians of the faith.

jumbesi

The arrival at Jumbesi was something to remenber, the small hamlet is situated in a lush green valley, itself the starting point for numerous treks in the region, namely to monasteries and Buddhist villages. Unfortunately, it was covered by heavy clouds and I remenber it surrounded by at least one high snow peaks.