This afternoon, I returned to Lhasa. For our final day of travel, we took a different route than the one we used to get to Mt. Kailash. The journey to the mountain was quite picturesque with several stops, but it was bumpy and slow. In contrast, the return trip lacked any scenic pauses, and the highway was relatively new, allowing for a smoother ride and a quicker pace. Upon arrival, we bid farewell to our driver and guide, collected our extra checked luggage, checked into our rooms, and then I set out with Tony and Yelina to purchase some souvenirs and grab a bite to eat. We walked about thirty minutes from the hotel to a street market, made our purchases, and explored a less touristy area. We stood out as the only Westerners in a clearly local neighborhood. We discovered a local diner and ordered dumplings, which are always popular. These dumplings were filled with yak meat. Tony chose a dish from a picture on the wall that caught his attention, and it turned out to be similar to a Shepherd's Pie, but with yak meat and a tortilla on top. It took quite some time to prepare that dish, and while we waited, a mother and her three daughters finished their meal at a nearby table. The girls greeted us with a hello, their only English word, and kept glancing over at us and smiling. I found it challenging to interact in such situations, as I felt like a novelty. I smiled and said hello, but wished to connect more. I asked Yelina if she could help communicate and see if the girls would like to take a picture with me, which I would also like. The mother agreed, and the girls eagerly lined up. They were very sweet, and their reactions made me believe this moment made their day and that they would likely share it with their friends. The meal was quite filling, and we ventured out to explore a bit more before returning to the hotel. Tony, a rugby fan, noted that there are no sports bars here and hopes to watch the upcoming match on a TV rather than his phone, insisting he must see it. At the hotel, I said goodbye to Yelina since I would be heading to the airport ahead of her, probably making this our last encounter. Tony and I share a shuttle to the airport at 8:00 AM. Although my flight isn't until 1:00 PM, I'm glad to arrive early as my Air China app has been unhelpful for online check-in, both coming here and now. I'm really hoping for a good seat assignment. The itinerary involves a three-hour flight to Beijing, a three-hour layover, a fifteen-hour flight to JFK, an overnight at an airport motel, and finally, the last leg to Raleigh, where I hope a taxi awaits to take me back to Carrboro. Writing out this itinerary is tiring enough, let alone living it. Nevertheless, I’m very much looking forward to returning to familiar bedding, food, language, and routine. There have been a few losses on this trip; after landing, I discovered I had lost my neck pillow, which I had used for the past twenty-five years, and these shoes will no longer be able to support any more hikes. Other than that, as long as I don’t end up in trouble for the souvenirs I'm bringing home, I expect a smooth journey ahead.
I realize I've discussed toilets quite a bit, but I think it deserves a separate post. The only Western-style toilets were found in hotels. In fact, the one in Chengdu was fully electronic; it had self-flushing, a heated seat, an integrated bidet, and a control panel on the wall that was too intricate to figure out during an overnight stay. Other hotels featured fairly typical flush toilets. After that, things took a turn for the worse.
Today, I find myself in a somewhat melancholy mood. One member of our Back of the Bus Gang has left. Helena is on her way to Nepal, having departed today with a couple from Malaysia, which means our tour group is now reduced to 7.
One aspect I didn't expect and that wasn't clearly outlined in the itinerary is the significant time we would spend traveling. Mt. Kailash is quite distant, the roads are extremely rough, and there isn't much to see along the way aside from stunning landscapes. Although the journey is worthwhile, it wasn't my favorite aspect.
It was relatively late in my life when I began seeking spiritual answers that were genuinely mine, rather than those imposed on me by society. The significant turning point occurred when I hiked the El Camino de Santiago from France through northern Spain. As I prepared for this journey, I resolved to use the time to explore my genuine feelings, regardless of whether they were right or wrong. I formulated five questions I needed to address, and by the end of the 31-day pilgrimage, I had answered them for myself and felt assured in my responses. This was truly "me," like it or not. Encouraged by that success, I approached the Kora with a similar mindset, bringing just one question to consider. A shorter pilgrimage meant a shorter question list, humorously speaking. My inquiry during this period was to ascertain whether I believed I existed for myself or for others. Knowing the answer to this is crucial for shaping how I spend the remainder of my life to realize my true purpose. Initially, the answer seemed quite straightforward, but it soon revealed itself to be a challenging question. Examining this question from different religious viewpoints yields completely different answers—take, for example, Buddhism versus Christianity. I identify as neither and do not adhere to organized religion, which means it's my responsibility and necessity to understand MY answer and pursue that purpose.
Documenting numerous personal, unpleasant specifics and certainly too much information. If you're squeamish, please exit now.
This afternoon, I returned to Lhasa. For this final day of travel, we chose a different route than the one we took to Mt. Kailash. The path to the mountain was very picturesque with several stops, but it was bumpy and slow. On the way back, there were no scenic interruptions, and the highway was relatively new, which resulted in a smoother ride, allowing us to travel faster. Upon our arrival, we bid farewell to our driver and guide, collected our additional checked luggage, checked into our rooms, and then I went out with Tony and Yelina to complete some souvenir shopping and grab a bite to eat. We walked about 30 minutes from the hotel to a street market, made our purchases, and ventured into a less touristy area. We were the only Westerners there, clearly in a local neighborhood. We found a local diner, ordered dumplings—always a popular choice—filled with yak meat. Tony selected a dish from a picture on the wall that looked intriguing, which turned out to be akin to a Shepherd's Pie, but made with yak meat and topped with a tortilla. That dish took quite a while to be prepared, and while waiting, a mother and her three daughters finished their meal at a nearby table. The girls greeted us with "Hello," their only English phrase, while continuing to smile and glance at us. I found it challenging to interact in such situations, as I felt like a novelty; I often smile and say hello but wished for deeper engagement. I asked Yelina if she could help facilitate communication and see if the girls would like to take a picture with me, which I also wanted. The mother agreed, and the girls eagerly arranged themselves for the photo. They were very sweet, and from their reactions, I believe this made their day, and they would share the experience with their friends. The meal was quite satisfying, and we left to explore a bit more but soon returned to the hotel. Tony, a rugby fan, noted that there are no sports bars here and hopes to watch the match on TV instead of his phone; it’s crucial for him to see this game.