Zoige

After the plateau we drive back into the mountains and my breath stocks which means we are driving on a pretty high altitude; on the pass is a sign 3500 meters and the famous Tibet prayer flags. The three colored papers are thrown out of the window for luck and prosperity. I see the first "gompas" and also a group of eagles who might fly around there because an air burial takes place.

When I see a village with wooden houses full of flags, I imagine myself in a film with "Saladdin's" army during the Crusades, unique! The Chinese couple next to me, on the other side of the aisle, which speaks very poor English, explains that I'm lucky with coming here. Last year, the government labeled this area as a "no go" area for Westerners because of the disturbances at the Beijing Olympics last year. This seems to have been lifted a few days ago but nothing is certain here. My neighbor and his family get off at a stop (read: somewhere at a deserted intersection where there is nothing) and stand still for minutes to sway me while I drive away in the bus. 

We arrive in Zoige which also has a Chinese name: Ru-er-gai and the couple and I decide to have lunch together. On the way I am properly stared at, but I too am looking surprised walking in this rather modern street in Central China. On the street there is a mix of people that you do not often see together; Muslims with black robes, white hats and flax beards but also Mongols, Tibetans, Chinese, Buddhist monks and what looks like Turkish people. It is crowded and we walk along the modern facades with some stalls before we return to the bus station for a ride to Langmusi.

It is a two-hour bus ride to the village Langmusi where a few days ago there was still a lot of snow (I heard). The couple helps to check in at a hostel on the corner where the bus stops, and then say goodbye, as they move on. It is a musty room and the shower only works between 2100 and 2300.

On the street I am looking for an internet café and a man on the street takes me to the most wonderful place I have ever sent out an e-mail; behind a thick dark curtain to keep the draft out, five young Buddhist monks sit on the sides play videogames. They look at me, I look at them. I’m curious at them – what they do and they want to know what I’m doing. There is a big cheer when I’m done and say goodbye.  

Later I see another hostel and I take a look inside. In front of the building is a wooden veranda and it is nicely furnished with lots of wood and color. I have to think of an American western. On the stove (stove) in the middle of the room, a pot of rice is slowly boiling and I am asked if I want to eat something. The entire meal consists of five dishes and is delicious; while eating, a Chinese couple says that two more Westerners have been deported by the Chinese authorities yesterday and they are therefore very surprised to see me here.

A bit skittish I walk through the darkness outside back to my hotel where I have to call someone every time to open my room as I do not get a key. The handles are pulled for hot water from the tap which is not really hot and a kettle of hot water is brought. A bit of both and then I go "clean" into my bed and hope that I won’t get deported tonight as the others did.