C M Y K Sxxx,2012-12-30,TR,004,Bs-4C,E1 4 TR THE NEW YORK TIMES, SUNDAY, DECEMBER 30, 2012 JOURNEYS Sichuan’s Tibetan Corner, Outside of Time By KIT GILLET IGH on the Tibetan plateau, a few dozen red-robed monks of the Lhagang Monastery sat facing one H another, rocking back and forth as they chanted with faces turned upward, to the heavens. In the flickering candlelight of the monastery’s dim main chamber, they then built small pyramids of incense to place throughout the building, adorned with golden Buddhas, and at the center of Tagong. Outside, under the harsh noon sun, the monks mingled with the mainly Buddhist and ethnically Tibetan resi- dents of the frontierlike town, popula- tion 8,000, which despite its makeup is in Sichuan Province, China. “We are all Tibetan,” said Ba Ding, a local shopkeeper. “We do get a few Han Chinese tourists passing through, and we are friendly enough with them,” he added unconvincingly. I had been in Tagong just an hour, af- ter arriving in a small, dusty van that had bounced along rutted roads for the three-hour journey from the nearby city of Kangding, its engine whining as we ascended and descended steep moun- tain passes. After checking into one of the colorful guesthouses across the central square from the monastery, I had simply fol- lowed the brightly dressed monks into the main hall to witness one of their sev- eral daily worship sessions. Tagong, whose altitude of about 12,000 feet makes it one of the highest towns in the world, offers an unfettered window onto the Tibetan people and culture. The region was part of Tibet un- til 1955, and its remoteness — to get PHOTOGRAPHS BY JEFFREY LAU FOR THE NEW YORK TIMES there, you must take a single winding road several hours from the bustling provincial capital, Chengdu — has insu- lated it against significant change. The place has a closed-off feel, with a slow- placed existence that revolves around the major Tibetan monastery and its 60 Tagong, serene and remote, with monks and prayer flags. or so resident monks. And it was easier than traveling to the Tibet Autonomous Region, which in addition to the visa and passport required to visit China, also requires a special entry permit that doesn’t promise unrestricted travel. That sort of unfettered access was my reason for going, and two hours into my stay it was clear that Tibetan culture and Buddhism remain at the heart of life in Tagong, albeit with slight tweaks to accommodate the few thousand for- eign visitors who make the journey each year: a few guesthouses, yak- cheese pizza and arranged horse-trek- king trips into the plains outside of town. Tagong itself is just a blip on the map: a stretch of ornate buildings leading to CLOCKWISE FROM TOP Novice the gates of the monastery, all sur- monks at the Lhagang Monastery rounded by endless peaks and plains. A playing a version of basketball be- few minivans leave or arrive through- tween classes; traditional Tibetan out the day, offering seats to destina- architecture in Tagong; Dhondoup, tions as far away as Chengdu for about one of the monks; preparing a sim- 120 renminbi ($19.50 at 6 renminbi to the ple meal after worship; a common dollar), but the rest of the time a horse sight on Tagong streets. being ridden up the main street is as likely a sight as a passing car. Once in the recesses of Lhagang Mon- astery you can see monks devoting newness of the physical structure studies. of the room was taken up by the statues themselves to their faith with a calm as- Chengdu seemed immaterial. This visit was more Class was in session for an even and Tibetan texts, with a small cur- surance; across a wide river that runs Tagong about the monks than the monastery. younger group of devotees in the main tained-off area for him to sleep in. Back alongside the town young apprentice SICHUAN Though all Tibetan Buddhists, they hall of the Sakya Monastic School, a in town, the streets were emptying as monks study Buddhism at a monastic were a varied group. In one of the side smaller version of the main monastery, the evening drew near; soon the monks school; and up on a nearby hill, a hand- reliquaries off the main hall, an aged where boys sat crossed-legged on long — who must rise for 6 a.m. prayers — Kangding monk smiled as I entered, and led me rows of dark-red cushions, each facing and locals had gone home. Viewed from ful of hermit monks live in silent wor- 50 MILES ship. around the small, candlelit room where another student. They debated Bud- this town perched on the roof of the “We have over a hundred young nov- he has lived for the last three years, dhist texts, gesturing to make their world, with little in the way of light pol- ices studying Buddhism who will even- sleeping on a small cot. Stopping at one points. Dhondoup had explained to me lution save from a few guesthouse win- tually join us in becoming monks,” CHINANA BeBeijiningingg point, he showed me a picture of himself that the novices study the finer points of dows, the stars that glittered above the Dhondoup, a fresh-faced 25-year-old next to the Dalai Lama. “We are all Buddhist logic, philosophy and dis- monastery were nothing short of majes- monk said to me in English as we stood SICHSICHUANAN Buddhist and he is our leader,” he said course in the hillside school for seven tic. ShaShhanghnghaigh on a shaded platform overlooking the TIBET to me in Chinese. years before being allowed to join their That evening I dwelled on the seem- Lhasa courtyard of the monastery after the Areareaa of ddetaill Later in the afternoon I spotted a brethren in Lhagang. ingly simple lives of the monks: their noon service. group of young monks playing basket- Sometime during the debates, I faith, their warmth and their absence of In front of us, part of the monastery ball using a hoopless telephone pylon as sneaked out of a side door and headed 21st-century distractions. It may be was undergoing construction to house 500 MILES a net on a grassy field across the town’s up a small path through a forest of mul- facile to assume that they had found ful- these new recruits; a new two-story THE NEW YORK TIMES river, their robes billowing around ticolored prayer flags to the simple hill- fillment, but it was hard to shake the im- dormitory was being added. Bags of ce- them. There was no bridge in sight, but side homes of several hermit monks. pression that I’d met a group of people ment lay within the grounds, and amid and a half the monastery rose and fell in I removed my shoes to cross the ice- From their dwellings the town below who, having long ago discovered a few the debris were dented 10-foot-high importance, changing allegiance sev- cold, knee-deep water. On the other appeared even smaller, dwarfed by vast of the secrets to a content life, existed prayer wheels, their Tibetan text cov- eral times to different Buddhist sects bank I was quickly invited to join the snowy peaks in the distance. In the fore- outside of time. ered in dust. before its destruction during the Cultur- game. ground there was little but wide ex- The following morning, as I rode in a There has been a monastery in al Revolution (1966-76). In the 1980s “We try to play basketball every day panses of pastureland and other small different but equally dusty van out of Tagong since A.D. 652, when the Tibet- work began on rebuilding the monas- before our 6 p.m. studies,” said Laozang hills adorned with colorful Buddhist town, the driver stopped at the highest an king Songtsen Gampo built the last tery, and today’s temple is slowly re- Tsere, a gregarious 18-year-old novice prayer flags, placed there over the pass, removed a stack of papers from of a series of 108 monasteries he had or- turning to some of its former glory and born in a nearby village. years by the monks and townspeople. his glove compartment and threw them dered constructed across his kingdom. size. A few minutes after I joined the As I arrived outside of one door, a into the air, letting them flutter away as (It is said to be where his Chinese bride As I wandered the halls and cham- game, a bell sounded. The novices hermit beckoned me in, and, without ut- he muttered a Buddhist prayer. Some had stopped on her way to their wed- bers, staring up at the many gold Bud- quickly checked that their robes were tering a word showed me around his drifted back down the mountain toward ding in 640.) Over the next millennium dha statues surrounding the wall, the on straight before heading back to their small home, filled with Buddhas. Most Tagong. And with that we drove on. Æ minutes north of San Francisco, aims to attoir, a 20,000-square-foot state-of-the- prime cuts on the menu — “we can sell Bites change that. art facility designed according to the them easily in the butcher case,” she ex- One half of the large space contains a principles of the activist Temple Gran- plained — there is steak.