Lhasa
September 13, 1996 clear
That year, in a rush into the walls of Lhasa this Shengyu, in its failure to better understand the circumstances, everything seems to seems to be far across the desert thin, even reaching the touch, then of course the towering Palace base, whom still do nothing?
Teramae low wall / 8 Gallery of coffee / Tibetan Aunt clothing / mottled walls / Kamba delivery guy come from smoke / Jokhang Temple hit songs ... ... Why is there still appears to be false so precarious, that layer of pale desert is still separated everywhere.
All these effects, too many points, I thought I was my eyes opened.
On that day, Jokhang Temple door closed, I aimlessly in Guang Zhao, sunlight sprinkled on the body of the pilgrims all over the world, but also sprinkled on the beauty of this booming capital.
Jumped into the Sera of buses. To get off the dirt road, is still well-intentioned people who nod and smile, and some disturbing enter the courtyard, is blooming flower in full bloom under the sun to try to see them smile: whether it is from the bottom of their lives / beliefs inner layer. But my face and a Han Chinese, even with a warm heart, like, really grip is maintained on their outstretched hand? ? ?
Before he left, they moved to the most colorful flowers of the stairs I was sitting next to me took a photo, but I do not have the courage camera lens at them.
Entered the monastery, half an hour to visit all the along the narrow wooden ladder, a step by step on the roof, only to find the above is a small hall, an old man sit in the bed, carrying a stack reach the peak of the bedding, the rise of look at me. State of confusion and I picked up a small camera, "I have pictures of the roof," he refers to the direction of the Door.
I did not shoot, sitting leaning against the corner of a pillar on the sun and found the floor strewn with more embroidery beads and capsules of pick up ... ....
Across the columns, who walked over, wake up, stand up, a young lama to have lunch with me in the past.
Finished gnocchi, drank what I forgot, and quiet, only one side of a middle-aged women occasionally Tibetan humility, and what the old man talking, and then pointed to my sunglasses, ran off, she decided to found my congestion of the eye, mouth mutter prayers. While, the old man the young lama said something, after which he took out from the back room of a beautifully decorated book, just say "print in India" opened to see, only the first few pages are in English, followed by all Tibetan. I do not understand, but still a page turning ... ...
That women who have left, I set off the thumb of the Tamasuke on her palm, the completion of this movement became aware of a mistake ... ... and she does, looking at my anxiety has played a hand shake and accepted! At that moment, I have accepted her good intentions.
In the afternoon, the old man and young monks are back to back room, I sat there, facing a lazy bound in a league in the bedding Yong's cat, turned over and that divine book, in the slanting sun felt peace.
Cindy
Author: Cindy_tan
