トマト ~ 토마토 ~ 托马托 ~ tomate ~ kamatis leejz: a box of tomatoes!

Number 5, is alive!

Tissue paper, check. Ciprofloxin, check. Money, check. pasu-poruto, checku. All the old memories and lessons-learned come flooding back. For the first time in 2 years, Jackson is on travel baby!

This page is active again! I'll be checking out the World cup in wintery South Africa, with stops in Pretoria, Johannesburg, and Capetown. The night we get in the US will be playing Ghana for advancement to the semi-finals. On Sunday we'll be watching Argentina vs. Mexico. Paraguay just won so we'll be seeing them next week, but the remaining competitors are still fighting it out today and tomorrow. The playing is getting intense and finally reaching world class level. The France team has already self-destructed. Italy sank in dismal performance. England squeeked out with second in Group C and will play Germany (what a game!). And just now, Japan scored on Denmark 1-0. If they win they'll advance. It's a fight to the Round of 16!

Someone is taking an afternoon dump and it stinks

Now that I'm 30, I realize I have never actually considered life after 30. I figured I'd be dead or fabulously wealthy by now. Unfortunately, neither has happened so I'm left with trying to figure out what the heck will leave me satisfied over the next few years. Thankfully, Colorado is a great place to learn about what I don't like in humankind. Hopefully within a year my search can begin again to find peace and happiness. To that end, based on a series of failures and trials here in Colorado, I decided I needed to draw up a few guidelines on how I should move my life in the coming years.

Jackson's rules to live by for the next 10 years:
1. Find a community that actually has talent in it. AKA Find a community where I respect the people and the talents in it.
2. Live in a community where the people respect my talents, background, and personality, or that respects a multitude of talents, backgrounds, and personalities.
3. Find a job that I enjoy doing and that helps people.
4. Find a job that I can do well where my work skills, my heritage, and inter-disciplinary background is not seen as a lack of experience or the wrong experience.
5. Find a girl who is independent/mature, multi-cultural/ multi-lingual / multi- SOMETHING, and loves to travel and live abroad, and appreciate her for that. It would help greatly if she wasn't excessively overweight or excessively skinny or excessively nuts.
6. Never become too insulated or comfortable from what is going on in the world around me, for the world is a dynamo - figuratively and literally! Not everything I experienced yesterday might apply tomorrow.

Most of all, Jackson's number 1 rule for living life (or perhaps rule A?):
1. Always find your center and live there.

Center, what? Well, your center, a combination of knowing your place in the frame reference of the universe, knowing yourself (in the Socratic sense, you dirty bastard), knowing where you belong, and never living at an excess or an extreme to what your center of gravity is (not in a Newtonian sense). A big part of this is the Confucian and Buddhist idea of the Middle Way. Never too much pain, never too much joy, never too much stuff, never too little. At heart is the idea that when you are at your center, you are at rest. I definitely do believe that seeking the center is a natural human tendency. A big problem is that when a person feels that they are living their life at an extreme, they go to the other extreme. In this way we live our lives flitting from one extreme to another, never achieving true peace or happiness. Finding your center is the journey that could consume your entire life.

Simple, 'di ba? We'll see how silly these thoughts might be in a few years!

Both dissapointed and overwhelmed

Back in Shanghai now. I had an interesting ride back to Lhasa. On my way out I discovered I was missing some money, about 500 RMB (70 USD). I told my guide and he immediately suspected the porters. I was hesitant to say. Farmers are poor, but not dumb or desperate. He and hte cook discussed it and decided to go to their village and confront them directly. So we met up again with the two porters, who of course denied everything. However, after some sharp questioning one of them, a 26 year old with a shady look about him admitted taking the money and offered to return two crisp 100's, having spent the rest. I was dumbstruck. Never in the Tibetian conversation did he look my way or show guilt or hesitancy in his voice. I couldn't read him at all. All the while he wore the same dumb expression.

The guides wanted to press charges, but I hoped that the shame of stealing would be enoguh (How do you spend 300 RMB in the Tibetian countryside? Hopefully in useful stuff, and not in beer and women!) We headed back home in the minivan in need of a physical and spiritual cleansing and renewal. On our way back about 100 km from Lhasa in the middle of nowhere we saw some pilgrams heading to Lhasa. Thubten mentioned that they probably had come from far eastern Tibet, prostrating one body length at a time. First raising the arms above the head, kneeling, falling flat on forehead and hands, sweeping the arms above the head and back, and then standing back up, and advancing one body length. They carried nothing but the clothes on their backs and heavy aprons and wooden blocks on their hands to protect themselves. Charity and religion sustained them, their ashes would be enshrined if they fell. Man, I thought. This place is tough. I imagine myself living as a Tibetian monk, early rising, prayers, bad food, bad weather, chores, labor, then early bed, day after day until all the years go by. No wonder they have so many festivals. I also imagine my life as a nomad. Never bathing, yaks, goats, yak butter tea, boiled food, high altitude, horrible life threatening weather, sharing wives. The pinnacle of life to prostrate all the way to Lhasa. I couldn't do it. It's not surprising that Tibetians get out of that life when they can. After this, I'm done with high altitude and winter for a while!

The hike to Tashi-do

Today we broke from the usual model. Normally in the mornings I'd stumble out of bed, eat almost nothing, then gear up for hiking. Thubten would hike with me, and the porter and chef Dawa would pack up and move camp onto a chinese tractor, the kind consisting of a motor driven wheel, a hitch, and a long steering arm resembling steering reins so as to fit onto existing horse drawn equipment. They would putter slowly past us as we walked. Dawa would hop out and speed ahead and the porters would setup camp at the next stop. I call it Tibetian style car camping, or perhaps tractor camping. Yesterday the porters left eager to prepare for town festival. We camped next to the only water supply in the area, but still 8 km from our destination. So today Thubten and I made the roundtrip walk from camp to the temple at Tashi-do, a peninsula fronted by two enormous massifs and backed by the lake. Distant mountains ringed a deep blue puffy cloud sky. Not a single modern thing visible except for the bright white tents of tashi-do - so white they could be mistaken for Greek capitals - situated between two giant mountains cut into the lake shore. A dirt road snaked into a thin line into the distance, but never quite touched the city. It was like approaching Gondor in the movie. The reality was much crappier. Crappy Yak dung grottoes. On the way back it rained. Another occurance is the return of my friend giardia. Just as I get over the altitude, intestinal diarrhea sets in! Giardia is common in livestock areas as animals carry it, but it doesn't die after a quick boil due to it's cyst forming ability. You should boil your water at least 10 minutes if you can afford the gas. Also, never camp down stream of a Tibetian nomad. Another useless life lesson learned!

To add insult to injury, last night it snowed half an inch, more in the mountains. We're waiting for pickup, but it's going to take a lot longer than expected. My camera is still dead so I can only use words to describe it. The mountains remind me of the bald slopes above the treeline near Aspen. It looks like the first snow of the season there, a heavy dusting 1-2". If the sun comes out it will dissappear up at this altitude. Let's hope our ride arrives safely! You can see across the lake and clearly see the snow line. The roads look ok, but the passes remain unsure. It looks like the green light was given by police, so we should get picked up in a few hours and back to Lhasa by nightfall. Shit, it's snowing again.

Random Thoughts:
1. Dawa's food is good, chinese food + yak. But salty and loaded with msg. He seems to think I want scrambled eggs every morning. Yesterday's pancakes from scratch (with jam!) was quite good, however, he smokes like a furnace!
2. Thubten keeps saying stuff starting "young Tibetians today..." in regards to them acting more and more Chinese.
3. A guy near our campsite runs a disco inside a tent. It blows thumping music late into the night across the plain.
4. Dawa keeps feeding a furry young dog that keeps yapping until 1 am.
5. The local spring is a hot place to meet young singles!
6. It's really messed up to be dreaming of hot weather in the summer.

A nice day finally

Today was a flat and long walk through sunny skies and infinite horizons. Today I was able to converse with Thubten much more. He told me the nomads I felt sorry for actually can make about 30,000 USD a season collecting mountain medicinal herbs (for a large family). He also told me that some tradtional nomads will have only 1 bride per family. Sucks if you're the youngest of 4 brothers! The eldest gets the property and the others must find other work, but are not allowed to marry. This is supposed to ensure that property and herds don't get split up. I asked if jealousy is a problem and he just laughed. We're camped next to the local spring on the edge of the saltwater lake. The spring is covered by a totem of flags and lots of flat rocks with mantras carved in it. Local women and kids come by to fetch water, and a truckload of monk boys came by to load a tank pulled by a tractor in order to bring water to the monestary on the peninsula. A hunched old lady came by to sell us cheese and milk and a man came to sell us trinkets. The old lady had a beautiful work knife hanging from her work/marraige apron. If she's right we will wake up swarming with her family herds currently migrating around this lake.

Thubten also related to me his impression of the riots in march. He said mostly frustrated low wage workers were angry at the Han Chinese taking all the jobs. He was inside all day. All of the rioting was in the Tibetian quarter, which is slowly being swallowed by the Chinese immigrating in. Some Han Chinese work crews sure do seem to have a sweet contract, usually doing work like construction or driving that doesn't really require a brain. Oh, it's hailing again. The lake is the most amazing azure in daylight and the stars hang like fat untwinkling emeralds in the night sky. That is, when the weather is good. When the weather is bad, it hails and blows. I've not been able to interact as much with locals on account of the weather. Everyone's inside! Time for bed I think! I've been practicing some simple phrases in Tibetian (tashi dele - thank you, No - meh, Yes- yu) the most useful phrase cheng-mo chaba (cold rain) keeps popping up. Also the phrase tsabo chang anmo cha (hot milk tea) is quite nice.

Delirium at 5100 m

8/26

Funny, every time they tell me how high we'll be going it keeps getting higher. In the morning the Tibetians egged me on and I pushed myself way too hard. The weather was awful, but of course rapidly changed into beautiful blue skies. I didn't realize it but I went from 4100 m to 5100 m in one day. I spent the next 18 hours in my tent in high altitude delirium. Nausea, migraines, and strange dreams. Apnea surprised me. All of the sudden I would realize that I hadn't breathed in a while. I would awaken gasping and confused. I dreamed that someone figured out a way to channel migraine relief but refused to give it to me. I dreamed about women I wish I had gotten to know better. In the morning I felt ok, but not great. Awful rainy weather led to a cold misty morning. On the other side of hte pass it hailed for 2 hours. I felt myself going numb and was very glad for the hot water thermos the cook carried. The guy is a badass, blazing fast, chain smoker, heavy pack on his back, and mushroom hunting at the same time. Loud, brash, and courteous. A true tibetian? We finally cleared the pass and trudged down to Nam Tso Lake. This is truly the land summer forgot. Even in full sun I shivered. A harsh cold wind faced us to the massive azue lake. Of course, as I arrived into camp a blazing sun set in. Local nomad children crowded t osee me and play with my walking sticks. Apparently it's their summer vacation now. Thubten would ask each child how many animals they had and from that remark on the size of the family. Few trekkers march this way. After a snack I collapsed into my tent again for another 18 hours.