Ganden Sumtseling Monastery

Before beginning our hike, we traveled to Ganden Sumtseling Monastery.  Established in 1679, it is the largest and most important monastery in southwest China.  Established by the fifth Dalai Lama, it represents the Yellow Hat sect of Buddhism.  Though it was damaged during the Chinese Cultural Revolution, it was rebuilt and now houses 700 monks in 200 structures.  At one point, it housed over 2000 monks.  Located just outside Shangri-La at 11,000 feet, various trails lead from the monastery to Lhasa in Tibet, or to Vietnam in the east.  The main prayer halls contain hundreds of Buddha statues, including some gilded figures that are over 25 feet tall.  Prayer wheels, prayer flags, and Buddhist scarves adorn the monastery complex.

Though practicing Buddhists are persecuted in Tibet, China seems to endorse the practice of Buddhism in territories that welcome Chinese rule.  The practice has been commercialized, to some extent, in order to draw tourism dollars. Look no further than the rebranding of this area as "Shangri-La" to see evidence of that. In many ways, the monastery is an odd combination of indigenous culture and its commodification.  Just outside the main prayer halls, which exude a smoky and sincere faith, monks sell prayer beads and prayer wheels to tourists.  And while these items in themselves are holy, and are blessed by a monk if you buy one there, it was odd to see them for sale in the monastery.  I was reassured to see so many Tibetans (and other ethnic minorities) practicing their faith, but indigenous cultures and religions lead  a complicated existence in this part of the world.  Just across the border in Tibet, Buddhists can't have a picture of the Dalai Lama in their house.

It's unclear what China's endgame is in Tibet: whether it's a land grab, a bid for resources, or something else.  It could be as simple and ironic as the fact that these people are allowed more freedom because they are not demanding independence.  Left unresolved, for me at least, is why the same conditions couldn't exist in Tibet, or why the Chinese see the Dalai Lama as so threatening.

Though cameras are prohibited in the main prayer halls, below you can see some pictures of the monastery complex.

 The main prayer halls are under the golden roofs.

 After testing our acclimatization by climbing the main set of stairs (it left us all winded), we enjoyed the view of the rolling farmland on the main platform.

 A monk exits one of the main prayer halls.  In Tibetan culture, the youngest son is often sent to a monastery.

 Monks reflecting (above) and working (below)

Strike a pose: one final bit of calm before setting off on our hike.

Hiking in Shangri-La: Day 6

On the final day of our hike, the students invoked a Mercersburg tradition: waking up to see the sunrise.  And on this particular day, they were treated to a special surprise for their efforts.  There's nothing like sleeping outside to attune your biorhythms with the rising and setting sun. And though we were leaving the mountains on this day, the richness of our experience would leave a lasting mark on us.

 A dawn rainbow stretched out for anyone who rose early. Thanks to Elisa for this photo and the next.

 The last breakfast.  Rice, steamed buns, and cocoa crispies.  Yep.

And, before we departed for the day, a bonus rainbow.

 Our favorite wildflower: Ms. Malone.

Interlude: The Lake with Drolma

In a previous post, you saw Sonam lighting incense at Abujee Lake.  Tibetans believe that lakes are inhabited by protective deities.  While sitting in camp one day, I asked if I could take a side trip to one of the smaller lakes nearby, and was promptly joined by Drolma, her grandmother, and a friend.  The lake was about 30 minutes away, though we wandered through wood and thicket for over an hour. It's probably good that we couldn't communicate verbally; as I always say, you're only lost if you'd rather be somewhere else.  Just when I was beginning to wonder about the navigational skills of our hosts, we burst from a patch of rhododendron right onto the shimmering lake shore.

Though there were no trails through the forests of rhododendron, there was some impressive scenery:

 Once at the lake, Drolma endured a photo shoot led by her grandmother, who had dressed her in traditional garb for the trip.  There were various ceremonial gestures, and this mysterious egg, whose meaning I never quite grasped.  Perhaps it was just a snack; Drolma cracked and ate it on the way home.

Drolma navigates the azalea on our way back to camp.

Hiking in Shangri-La: Day 5

Our fifth day of hiking proved to be a moody one, with clouds skirting in and out the whole morning, and finally lifting by afternoon.  We crossed a low pass, gained the protection of the woods once again as we descended, and then traversed a hillside overlooking vast pastures, settling into one of those pastures for the night.

This photo was taken the night before, after getting back from the lake.

 And this the next morning, before setting off.  You can see how the clouds would envelop us at times, and then lift to reveal stunning landscapes.

 Rhododendron bloomed in white, pink, and yellow.

 Heading toward the low pass.  We stuck close together through this.

 And sure enough, the horses caught us mid-morning.

 Once we entered the protection of the forest, the winds died down and we had greater visibility.

Close to our campsite, we ran across this woman.

Interlude: The Highlands with Sonam

On Day 3 of our trek (before we departed for Abujee), we arrived at camp by noon, giving us the afternoon off.  Since we were finally above tree line, I asked Sonam if he would take me further up into the mountains for a taste of what was to come.  We traveled to the pass overlooking the lake (see the post below), but just as we reached the pass, high winds blew a storm in, reducing visibility to about ten feet and forcing us to find refuge behind a boulder while we waited for it to pass.  After 15 minutes of waiting and getting soaked, we decided to head down and back.  As we descended out of the cloud and the path of the storm, Sonam pointed out a distant ridge and asked if I'd like to scale it.  He said the views were spectacular. Though we were essentially traveling on exposed yak trails, the vistas that opened up on the other side were breathtaking. Many thanks to Sonam for quite literally going the extra mile to make that day a memorable one. When he told me that he had taken his friends to this spot before, I felt honored to have been led "off the path" in this way.

 Gaining the ridge meant scaling this rock-strewn arm of the mountain.  Not a huge problem, except for the high winds (~40mph) blowing from left to right.

 We would essentially be hiking along the spine that splays out here.  Our original path took us through the valley below to the left.

 Once on the ridge, this view spread out before us.

 Ahead in the distance, Sonam makes his way across the ridge.

  And behind us, the trail and the clouds that chased us off the pass.

 Midway across the ridge, Sonam and I took a break and sat quietly for about a half hour.  As we were leaving, he offered to take my picture.

 We picked our way along the ridge until things got a bit hairy.  We then found a slide made of sand and loose, small rocks and glissaded down to the valley.

 On our way back, Sonam took another detour to the mountain overlooking our campsite.  Far below, you can see the green group tent on the left and the students' orange tents on the right. 

Once back at camp, we settled in for some tea and rest in the hut while the ever-cheerful camp crew started on dinner.

Hiking in Shangri-La: Day 4

Our fourth day of hiking was the high point of the trip, both literally and figuratively.  We reached 14,000 feet on the way to the namesake of our trek: Abujee Mountain.  Abujee is a concocted word, combining two Tibetan expressions.  When I asked what it meant, our guide team explained that when they experience something wondrous, they will often exclaim, "Abubu" or "Ajeejee."  Sort of like "Wow" for us, though I got the feeling that those phrases were reserved for natural settings.  In any case, Abujee simply takes the name of that wonder. After reaching the pass, the group descended to the lake at the base of the mountain, a holy site for Tibetans.  Thanks to Elisa, CJ, and Ms. Malone for contributing pictures to this post.

We set off into a thick, rapidly shifting fog.

 As the clouds riffled through the morning, the trail gained altitude, revealing ever new layers of scenery.

 Sonam leads the way toward the distant peak of Abujee, which we didn't see on our entire approach.

 Though rhododendrons were fading at lower altitudes, they were peaking at this height.

 After a strenuous climb, the group gained this mountain pass, part of a cirque that looked down to the view below:

 On the other side of the cirque was a pass that looked out onto Abujee (still behind the cloud) and the lake far below.

If you enlarge this photo, you'll see a ceremonial site on the promontory, draped with prayer flags.

As a native Tibetan, Sonam explained that lakes are often holy sites.  Here, he lights incense to invoke the spirits of the lake.

 Prayer flags, another feature of Tibetan culture, hold the prayers of the person who places them. They are often hung in windy locations (bridges, mountain tops); each time they flap in the wind, they disseminate prayers.  These particular flags contain the words, "Om mani padme hum," a Buddhist mantra that invokes compassion and safety.  Though there is no easy translation of the phrase, you can find a pretty good explanation of it here.

As the group ate lunch at the lake, the clouds lifted, revealing Abujee in the background.