Qinghai, Tibet by Mai Thuong '22

Qinghai, Tibet Words & Photos by Mai Thuong '22

It was February, 2018. Nik and I had been backpacking around South Asia during our gap year, before enrolling in college. We said goodbye in India, where we had been backpacking for the last few months, and

I continued my way to north China; travelling to Qinghai, a province located at the northeastern part of the

Tibetan Plateau. The Qinghai region, called Amdo in

Tibetan, was long considered part of Tibet. Realizing I could not go to Lhasa, the capital of Tibet, as an independent tourist, I decided to hike around Qinghai. I have always said "I am neither religious nor spiritual", but this moment, standing in front of a giant spider web of Tibetan flags, I felt inexplicably emotional. I was struck by this feeling. The frenetic crossing of flags made me feel an intense sense of spirituality. The intensity of this place strengthened my admiration towards Tibetans who fought for freedom, a struggle too difficult. I thought also of my Tibetan friends, Karma and Dolma, who had not returned to their homes for a long time due to this conflict. The unsettling fact that I had been so close to Karma’s home, while he had not reunited with his family for 15 years, crossed my mind. I stopped at this village to break from a long hike, but due to a snow storm, I proceeded to stay for 3 days. As I was standing in front of this mountain range,

I felt so small and fragile compared to my surroundings. Yet, at the same time, an emotion overwhelmed my body. I felt motivated, encouraged and enthusiastic, as if I was reborn. I appreciated the privilege of my youth, my body, everything that brought me there. I walked around the village the next morning and I bumped into almost no-one. It was too cold to leave the house. A biting cold, an unbelievable cold. As soon as their "big brother" turned his back, they told me "Quick quick, take a picture of us!" It was cold, but their rosy cheeks warmed my mind. It was frigid, but among the white snow I found colorful pieces belonging to a spiritual place from the past. These broken relics were the result of an earthquake in Qinghai in 2010. It was strange, to stand in front of the raw pieces of something historical that happened in the past. I imagined that they used to be pieces of a building, or a Stupa maybe? I felt as if I was stilled, between space and time. I passed a Tibetan settlement which surprised me with its calmness and peace, contrary to the biting cold. I was also quite happy to finally see the Yak I saw in "7 Years In Tibet".

I walked alongside the road to hitch-hike. Although it appeared bright in this photo, it was nearly sunset. I worried, there was no village in sight. Tailed by wild dogs, I was deeply afraid, they barked cruelly and flashed hostile looks my way. I clutched rocks in my hands to throw at them. Luckily, a Tibetan local with a car kindly stopped to pick me up. This man stopped to pick me up, liberating me from the wild dogs. He kept saying haizzz xiao gu niang (“little girl / little lady”) "why do you walk along like this?" He burst into laughter while telling me the history of this area, and I wished that I could have understood him better but he doesn't speak Pu Tong Hua, and my Mandarin is not very good. Even though he had planned to take another route, he graciously continued to drive me to the village center. That drive marked the conclusion of my month-long hike in Tibet. After days of many trains to reach Guangdong, a province located in South China, I could finally sit on the last train to head back to my home in Vietnam. Time goes by so fast, that sometimes I wonder whether I have lived or wasted my youth. That moment, I was sure I lived it.

"but this moment, standing in front of a giant spider web of Tibetan flags, I felt inexplicably emotional."