It is said that a Tibetan bathes three times in their lifetime – once when they are born; once when they are married; and once when they die.
I can’t verify that. My nose was blocked when I went to Shangrila, or Little Tibet, as it is also known. And I wasn’t particularly sniffing around any of the locals.
But that is what someone from Lijiang told me after I got back from Shangri-La.
Shangri-La’s original name was Zhongdian. It is still called that by locals. The name Shangri-La was holliwoodized by the movie The Last Horizon. In the film, Shangri-La was an unmapped paradise on earth somewhere between China, Tibet and Nepal; and symbolized the ultimate exotic escapism, quite a gem for the tourism industry.
If it existed.
And so the Chinese government decided that, by George, if Shangri-La didn’t exist, we will claim that name for Zhongdian; and watch the nirwana-seekers, backpackers, tourists and everyone else game for it roll in.
Pretty much because of the film, the name ‘Shangri-La’ has become an incantation of a mountain paradise where peace reigns, people live good long lives and life is nirwana. I don’t know about the nirwana bit but the Shangri-La I went to IS pretty much a mountain paradise and people DO live good long lives. I met a hundred-year-old granny sitting out in the sun with her buddies. She was in perfect health. I asked her permission to take her picture, and she smiled and answered me with a ‘yes’, followed by what I call a Tibetan bow (palms together in prayer position and a bow of the head).
Shangri-La is the last town before you hit Lhasa (Tibet). It is located in the self-governing region of Diqing. It’s still China, like Tibet; but just self-governing, like Tibet. But not restricted, like Tibet. The main population is Tibetan, with a pinch of Naxi, Bai, Lu and a few others. Hence, Little Tibet.
Boy it was a tad chilly there for Spring. I had to go buy a windbreaker. Oh, if you’re ever in the market for mountain climbing, trekking and hiking gear, GO TO SHANGRI-LA. Oh, you get pretty good deals in Dali and Lijiang. But I found the best deal in Shangri-La.
Now, let me tell you about the food in Little Tibet. I didn’t get to taste a lot of other stuff. But man, let me tell you about the food in Little Tibet.
Three words.
Yak Butter Tea.
Six words.
Not for the faint of heart.
Or the weak of stomach.
But I wouldn’t have missed that experience for the world. And I’d do it all over again if it were another first time in Little Tibet.
It came in a ginormous tin pot. And bowls to drink with. It looked like tea latte. And it tasted…..weird. That was my first thought. I’ve never drunk savoury tea before in my life. But it wasn’t that. It smelt like yak.
Now, I don’t know what yak smells like. I didn’t see any in Little Tibet. But I’m telling you. That tea smelt like yak.
Well of course it would. It had yak butter in it, init?
Ok. Salty tea. Piping hot. Great. Interesting. Very rich, yakky-milky. I couldn’t quite decide what I thought of it.
Then I made a perilous mistake.
I left the tea on the table, and yakked to my backpacking buddies for about 15 minutes; by which time the tea had gotten below room temperature.
Then I took a swig. All of it. Down my throat.
Well now.
Ahem. I..ah..had to compensate by pouring another bowl of it. A hot one this time.
Let me assure thee, cold yak tea is not something thou wouldst want to inflict upon thyself if thou lovest thy stomach.
Boy, I have never seen projectile stuff **mutter mutter**…..Well…that’s all I’m going to say about that. If your curiosity gets too much to handle, feel free to ask me for details. But I warn you, I started to say something about this and Chinese toilet stories in a car in KL. There were some very silent greenish faces at the back.
I tell ya. Yunnan will forever be etched in my memory. Tribes and peoples who look like me, speak a common language as me; but are so many worlds apart nonetheless. I found the local peoples of Yunnan exceedingly lovely in spirit and body. Amazing. Man, THIS is the type of travel I dig.
Photo: A taste of yak – well, just yak butter. On the right corner, a pot and two bowls of yak butter tea. Left corner, stirfried brinjal, Tibetan (or is it Yunnan) style?
On my way back from a meeting today, something caught my eye: a cluster of lonely pillars on a slab of barren land, remnants of a building that once was. Graffiti covered each pillar, many with haunting themes. At the back where a lonely wall still stood, an entire mural covered it, with themes of wildlife animals and the rainforest and an emphatic gaia-like maiden in an embracing posture.
