Justin & Zoe's Travels

Burmese Water Festival

2009-07-05T17:10:00.000-07:00

Burma & Rensselaer

2009-01-21T20:05:00.000-08:00

2009-01-21T19:58:00.000-08:00

2009-01-21T19:49:00.000-08:00

Moving to Albany

2008-07-28T19:31:00.000-07:00

We are back in Albany, NY after nearly a year in Asia. We just found a beautiful apartment in a great neighborhood. Some of our new neighbors happen to be refugees. Many of them are ethnic Karen from the Thailand-Burma border where we spent three months in the spring working on Unseen Mae La. Last weekend there was a wonderful article in the Times Union about the neighborhood and the refugees who live there.

Amritsar

2008-07-28T19:07:00.000-07:00

We've been sorting through photographs...thousands and thousands of images from the last year. This is one of my favorites. I took it at the Golden Temple of Amritsar in India. The Golden Temple is the spiritual and cultural center of the Sikh religion. It is their most important pilgrimage site and is frequently referred to as the Sikh Mecca.

Laos

2008-05-19T04:35:00.000-07:00

Justin recording Lao music on the streets of Vientiane.

Lao Rocket Festival

2008-05-19T01:48:00.000-07:00

Shooting home made rockets over the Mekong River in Vientiane.

2008-05-18T00:44:00.000-07:00

These are some of the 2,300 Buddha sculptures at Wat Si Saket in Vientiane, Laos. Vientiane is a wonderful laid back city on the Mekong river. There is a strong French influence here. Laos was a French colony until 1953, except for during WWII when it was occupied by the Japanese. Our first night here we ate a French restaurant: steak (!!!) and eggplant with goat cheese and fancy red wine. Many people in Vientiane speak French and dozens of French expats have opened cafes and boutiques all over town. The city's name used to be "Wieng Chan" which means Sandalwood City, however through French transliteration it became Vientiane. When I (zoe) was here 8 years ago the city looked completely different. It was quieter, dustier and felt kind of empty. Since then it has developed so much and is a booming tourist destination. The New York Times choose Laos as the number one place to visit in 2008.

2008-05-10T05:18:00.000-07:00

Today we visited a school for Burmese migrant worker's children. The actual school house was destroyed in a storm a few weeks ago. When we arrived the headmaster and students were playing soccer in a large field where the school once stood. The school would cost $6,000 to rebuild but they have no way of raising the money. If you want to donate to their school please let us know. In the soccer field we met a man who had just come from Karen State three days ago. His village had been damaged by the cyclone and there were no signs of relief coming anytime soon. Tomorrow he will travel back to his village in Karen State to assess the damage. When he returns to the Thailand border, our friends will email and tell us what it looks like in there.

Karen State is the homeland of the ethnic Karen. For the last 50 years they have been fighting a bloody civil war against the Burmese military government. The Burma Army has recently escalated its offensive against the Karen civilian population. The latest offensive started in February 2006 and so far an estimated 20,000 people have been forced from their homes and displaced.

In the soccer field we met two displaced kids who are also newcomers to the Thai-Burma border. They traveled from Karen State to attend the school. They had made the arduous journey with 23 others. However they traveled dangerous roads and their vehicle toppled over a cliff. Three people died, the rest of the group returned home. The two teenagers were the only ones to make it to Thailand. They are the two boys on the left.

Cyclone Nargis

2008-05-07T20:36:00.000-07:00

We've received lots of concerned emails over the last few days and wanted to let everyone know we're fine. Here in Mae Sot we had a few days of heavy rain but nothing more. Our housemate works at the a local refugee hospital called Dr. Cynthia's Clinic and she hasn't seen any patients yet from the cyclone. She said they might start seeing cyclone victims in a few weeks. Travel is slow in Southeast Burma and it will take people a while to get to the border.

As for us, we are just finishing up our project with Karen refugees. If you get a chance check out: UnseenMaeLa.blogspot.com We're still working out a few kinks.

For more info and news articles about Cyclone Nargis and how you can help check out this site our friend Karen Zraick made: http://burmaemergency.wordpress.com/

Lots of love,
Zoe & Justin

Mae La Refugee Camp

2008-04-19T06:40:00.000-07:00

Last week we visited Mae La refugee camp. For the last two months we've been teaching photography to Karen refugees and have heard stories about Mae La. Still, the experience of actually going there was shocking and intense. Around 40,000 people live in the Mae La refugee camp. It is surrounded by barbed wire, check points and armed guards. The refugees are not allowed to leave. The first things we noticed was that there were so many children. Many Karen refugees are born and raised in the camps. We've met Karen people in thier twenties who lived thier whole lives in refugee camps.

2008-04-19T06:32:00.000-07:00

We've met many people with homemade tattoos similar to the those on this man's arms. Some of the tattoos are in English and others are in Karen script. There are tattoos for protection, decoration and solidarity.

2008-04-19T06:15:00.000-07:00

Mae La is the largest of 13 refugee camps on the Thai Burma border. All together the camps house about 150,000 refugees. The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees expects that about 27,000 people will leave the camps in 2008 and 22,000 in 2009. Many of these refugees will be resettled in the states. For more info about Karen refugees resetteling in New York check out our friend Karen Zraick's beautiful website: From Burma to New York.

2008-04-19T05:26:00.000-07:00

We happened to arrive at Mae La for the new year water festival. This festival is celebrated in Burma, Thailand, Laos and Cambodia during April, the hottest time of year. Here people pour water on the Buddha and on each other as a way of showing respect.

2008-04-19T05:21:00.000-07:00

A group of musicians played traditional songs while people took turns pouring water on the Buddha. Most of the dancers were community elders.

2008-04-19T05:20:00.000-07:00

Water Festival inside Mae La Camp.

2008-04-19T05:15:00.001-07:00

Several of these women are wearing traditional Karen clothes.

2008-04-19T05:14:00.000-07:00

We only visited a small section of Mae La camp. The whole camp is about a square mile and is divided up into three sections (A, B & C). Its huge. There are something like 26 schools, 5 community libraries, 24 Christian churches, 5 Muslim mosques and 4 Buddhist monasteries inside the camp.

2008-04-19T05:07:00.000-07:00

Most of the people living inside Mae La are not allowed to leave the camp except under special conditions. To earn money some people sneak out of the camp to find work. Others have money sent to them from relatives who've resettled. A few refugees find jobs inside the camp at small shops like the one in this photo. There are also some jobs funded by foreign aid organizations like teaching positions, nursing and weaving.

2008-04-19T05:05:00.000-07:00

This kid followed us around the camp. I didn't realize he wanted me to take his photo until right before we left.

2008-04-19T05:00:00.000-07:00

Many of the children had shaved heads because of lice.

2008-04-19T04:59:00.000-07:00

2008-04-19T04:54:00.000-07:00

2008-04-19T04:53:00.000-07:00

Food scarcity and access to clean water are major problems in the refugee camp. An aid organization called the Thailand Burma Border Consortium supplies rice, beans, fish paste and chillies among other things. Our friends told us they don't supply any meat or vegetables. The recent problems with rice production have dramatically impacted the refugee camp. Refugees at Mae La used to get 15 kilos of rice per month. This month it went down to 12 kilos and there are rumor that it will soon go down to 8 kilos.

2008-04-19T04:47:00.000-07:00

One of the photographers in the Unseen Mae La project talked a lot about religious freedom inside the refugee camp. He explained that in Burma there is no religious freedom, at least not for the Karen people. However in the refugee camp people respect each other's diverse religions. The predominant religion in Burma is Buddhism. Muslims and Christians face widespread discrimination. The Burmese Junta has used the support of the Buddhist monastic order as a source of legitimacy. However last fall we saw the monks of Burma bravely rise up against the Junta.

2008-04-19T04:45:00.000-07:00

Most of the camp is surrounded by barbed wire. If people want to leave, even for just a few hours, they have to apply for a series of permits.

2008-04-19T04:43:00.000-07:00

2008-04-19T04:38:00.000-07:00

Tibet In the News

2008-03-15T23:18:00.000-07:00

We are currently in Bangkok, about to head up to Mae Sot to work with the Karen refugees from Burma on a photography project. For the last few days we've been watching the news about the protests in Tibet and Gansu. Below are some observations about the time we spent in Tibet and with Tibetan exiles in India.

When we were in Tibet last October we both felt the oppression of the Tibetan people was incredibly visible. There was a heavy military presence throughout the country with check points and surveillance cameras in sensitive areas such as the Jokhang and Potala Palace. Businesses seemed to be mostly owned by Chinese people and we heard reports that it is very hard for ethnic Tibetans to find work in Tibet because jobs are usually given to Han Chinese. Its important not to demonize Chinese people in this situation. Han Chinese come to Tibet looking for work. Also it seems like Chinese schools teach a very strange version of Tibetan history, one that fosters extreme racism towards Tibetans. I am not sure how the human rights abuses get justified, but there are clearly human rights abuses against the Tibetans.

We happened to be in Lhasa the day that His Holiness the Dalai Lama received the Congressional Gold Medal from the United States. We heard from several Tibetans that the Chinese government had prohibited any kind of celebrations that day. As you know, images of the Dalai Lama are illegal in Tibet and monks in monasteries are forced to officially denounce him in writing. Despite numerous threats from the Chinese police Tibetans throughout Tibet held celebrations. Many of these events were creative and quiet. For example we saw hundreds of Tibetans making celebratory offerings at the Jokhang before dawn. Many Tibetans were arrested that day and monasteries including Drepung were surrounded and closed down by the police.

It was hard to talk to Tibetans about their situation while we were in Tibet. Tibetans seen talking with foreigners are watched closely. We were advised that provoking a political conversation with Tibetans can put the Tibetans at risk especially if either party says something disparaging about China. However once we returned to Dharamsala we were free to talk with Tibetans in great detail about what is going on in Tibet. Through the community work we did we were able to talk with scores of Tibetans and hear dozens of stories about the oppression. Some of the people we talked with had lived outside of Tibet for nearly a decade while others had left Tibet within the last year. We met Nuns who were imprisoned and tortured in ways I don't even feel comfortable writing about. We met young people who came to India to learn Tibetan language and history because they were not allowed to do so inside Tibet. We met monks who came to be close to His Holiness the Dalai Lama and to get Buddhist philosophy teachings which were not available in Tibet. And the stories went on. There are a lot of good resources out there to learn about the situation inside Tibet. The International Campaign for Tibet puts out a really good report called Paradox Lost and their site has up to date information.

The most important thing we gained by going to Tibet was a sense that Tibet can be free. When you hear about Tibet in American media there is a sense of hopelessness. However visiting Tibet filled me with hope. Tibetan culture is still strong and vibrant throughout the region. Being in Dharamsala led us to believe the Tibetan government could make the transition to a free Tibet in a responsible way. However the transition needs to happen soon. Last year China built a train from Beijing to Lhasa which has made it much easier for Beijing to control Tibet. Han Chinese are using the train to migrate in large numbers possibly enticed by tax breaks and job offers. Tibetans are now becoming second class citizens in cities like Lhasa. His Holiness the Dalai Lama is getting old and without his strong leadership the momentum for a free Tibet could be lost. What a free Tibet would look like is obviously up to the Tibetan people. It could mean that Tibet becomes an independent nation as it was before China invaded and forcefully annexed it in 1951. Or it could look more like the Dalai Lama's "Middle Way"approach that secures basic civil rights for Tibetans while remaining a part of China.

If we do not support Tibet now there will be no changes made to improve human rights in Tibet. When the world media coverage stops China will crack down hard. Now is the time to act and we can see from this weeks news that the Tibetans are acting. We have heard from friends in Dharamsala that the community is mobilizing. It is an exciting time and an important time for those of us in solidarity with Tibet to speak up. The International Campaign for Tibet suggests that Americans contact their congresspeople to put pressure on China to let media into Tibet. It is also important that we learn as much as we can about what is going on there and educate our communities with fliers, workshops and articles. On April 9th the Olympic torch will stop in San Francisco offering a strategic time for demonstrations in the United States. The US presidential election also gives us a chance to put pressure on the candidates to support human rights in Tibet as Senator Obama did on March 14.

The world will be watching Beijing during the 2008 Olympics. This is an important opportunity for Tibet and we can help by keeping the pressure on and letting China know we support a free Tibet.

Some Recent Articles
Simmering Resentments Led to Tibetan Backlash
Curbs on Protest in Tibet Lashed by Dalai Lama
Dalai Lama Calls for Tibet Inquiry
Violence in Tibet as Monks Clash with Police
Monk Protests In Tibet Draw Chinese Security
Tibetan News Source: Phayul.com
San Francisco Restricts China Protests for Torch Relay
Students for Free Tibet: How You Can Help
International Campaign for Tibet

2008-01-05T11:59:00.001-08:00

Nam Tso

2008-01-05T11:59:00.000-08:00

Nomads

2008-01-05T11:55:00.000-08:00

Potala

2008-01-05T11:42:00.000-08:00

Morning Tea, Ganden Monastery

2008-01-05T11:39:00.000-08:00

Women Workers

2008-01-05T11:32:00.000-08:00

Child

2008-01-05T11:30:00.000-08:00

Mountain Pass

2008-01-05T11:24:00.000-08:00

The Jeep

2008-01-05T11:23:00.000-08:00

Prayer Flags

2008-01-05T11:21:00.000-08:00

Cleaning Butter Lamps

2008-01-05T11:20:00.000-08:00

Tsampa Factory

2008-01-05T11:15:00.000-08:00

Offering

2008-01-05T11:10:00.001-08:00

Sera Monastery

2008-01-05T11:10:00.000-08:00

Dzong

2008-01-05T11:00:00.000-08:00

Gyantse Monastery

2008-01-05T10:55:00.000-08:00

Sheep

2008-01-05T10:16:00.000-08:00

Yak

2008-01-05T09:59:00.000-08:00

Kham Mountain Pass

2008-01-05T09:51:00.000-08:00

Lhasa

2008-01-05T09:30:00.000-08:00

Nepal

2008-01-04T11:50:00.000-08:00

Mariogold Sellers

2008-01-04T11:30:00.000-08:00

Festival

2008-01-04T11:29:00.000-08:00

Puja

2008-01-04T11:11:00.000-08:00

2008-01-04T11:03:00.000-08:00

Temple Stairs

2008-01-04T11:00:00.000-08:00

Kathmandu Puppets

2008-01-04T10:50:00.001-08:00

Dancing Buddha

2008-01-04T10:50:00.000-08:00

Dentist

2008-01-04T10:45:00.000-08:00

Kathmandu

2008-01-04T10:40:00.000-08:00

Birds

2008-01-04T10:35:00.000-08:00

Eyes of Buddha

2008-01-04T10:00:00.000-08:00

One Photo Please

2008-01-04T09:10:00.000-08:00

Tibetan Press

2007-12-22T04:43:00.000-08:00

This beautiful picture which Zoe took is for my former co-workers and fellow book lovers. When we first visited the Dalai Lama’s temple in India, I was taken aback to see thick cloth-covered rectangles referred to as books. Since they were behind a locked cabinet in the temple, I assumed they were artifacts from Tibet with a historical or religious significance and that their practical use had faded. When we visited Sera monastery, one of the three main monasteries in Lhasa, this belief proved to be false. Not only are they still used but they are still produced, in a surprisingly fast and efficient manner.

In the photo just above the wood-block you can see a box containing some ink and a brush used to coat the block every time a page is printed. A blank page is placed on top of the block and then a roller is then firmly pressed against the paper ensuring a good print. On the side of the photo you can see a stack of pages already printed. It gives publishing a whole new meaning.

Ganden Monastery

2007-12-08T03:48:00.000-08:00

Stars sparkled over Lhasa as we boarded the bus for Ganden Monastery. At 5:30am we had left our guesthouse and headed down the street to catch the bus at Bakhor Square. When we got there it was already full except for one seat and a bench in the front next to the gearshift. Zami, our 62 year-old Israeli friend who we had been traveling with for the last ten days, took the seat and we squeezed our way up to the front bench. After a few minutes the bus plunged forward into the darkness. My arm was pressed up against the windshield and I could feel goose bumps forming under my many layers of clothing. The seats around us were filled with old women in long thick skirts and warm wool sweaters each one holding a string of prayer beads. Over the grumbling of the engine you could hear the steady murmur of their mantras as thumbs pushed prayer beads quickly along. While Justin fell asleep on my shoulder I pulled out my own set of prayer beads, the one I bought a week earlier at Drepung Monastery on my 26th birthday, and added my voice to the low hum of prayers.

The road ahead was illuminated by the headlights of our giant bus. The Sichuan restaurants and new department stores were closed. The florescent signs above Chinese apothecary shops and karaoke bars were dark. The city was quiet except for the shuffle of those en route to the Johkang. Young women with turquoise and coral in their hair were prostrating. As we passed I caught glimpses of them throwing their robust bodies against the hard asphalt, then standing up taking a few steps forward and doing it again. Old men in long sheepskin cloaks hobbled along spinning hand held prayer wheels. Children with bright-sunburned cheeks trailed behind families of pilgrims walking toward the city center. In fact, it seemed all Lhasa’s streets were lined with pilgrims suggesting that before dawn Tibet belongs to the Tibetans.

It was a blessing to see Lhasa from this bus with these pilgrims. It was the first time we were allowed on a public bus in Tibet. As foreigners our travel had been heavily restricted requiring stacks of permits, government approved guides and expensive Land Cruiser tours. Boarding this bus felt almost rebellious, an opportunity to escape the constant monitoring of our movements. It was also the first time in two months of travel that we were approaching a sacred site appropriately, the way my mother had taught me, with intention and prayer.

I was happy I got out of bed that morning. I almost hadn't. Earlier when Zami knocked on our door to wake us up I groaned and hid my head deep under the massive stack of blankets that kept us warm through the night. I was exhausted and firmly decided there was no way I was getting up. Justin had gone to answer the door. Through the thick walls of my blanket cave I could hear a muffled version of their brief conversation. Justin was asking if everything was okay. Zami asking if we were ready to go. Justin explaining that it was only 2am. Zami apologizing, his watch had malfunctioned. Relieved, I fell deep into a dream about the civil rights movement. It was Mississippi and we were singing songs of freedom. Everyone I knew was there. In real life I never sing in public, but in the dream my voice was strong and beautiful. Maybe that’s why I was less afraid to mumble my mantras out loud on the bus.

When we arrived at Ganden Monastery, located high on one of the few mountain passes around Lhasa, everyone poured off the bus. Surprisingly, rather than heading to the cluster of temples they scrambled up a steep dirt path. Zami, Justin and I stood in the crisp biting air a little confused about which direction to go. It was too cold to stand around for long so soon I too was scrambling up the hill. When I got to the top I was alone surrounded by thousands of prayer flags snapping and whipping in the wind. Where did everyone go? Maybe instinctively, maybe because it was the only option, I turned to the wall of prayer flags. I reached down to the ground and with frozen fingers gathered up the brightly colored fabric. I lifted it above my head and burrowed into the tunnel of flapping prayers.

On the other side I stopped short to steady my footing and catch my breath. I was standing on the edge of a steep cliff looking out at endless valleys, braided rivers and the mountains of Tibet. The sun was peaking over a jagged horizon, its warm rays encouraging the world to shimmer. To my right I saw people walking along a path I hadn't noticed. It was the same path I was standing on. In Tibet, before one enters a monastery they walk around it in a clockwise direction on a path called a kora. In the past we had followed such paths around buildings but the Ganden kora took us around the peak of a mountain. Justin and Zami emerged behind me and we followed the path together, in the direction of the pilgrims, for the ritual circumambulation of the holy site.

We caught up with the group ahead and walked with them through the morning. They stopped often at particular trees or caves to bow and prostrate. Some lit small candles on altars carved into stone. Many carried beautifully woven bags filled with incense and tsampa (barley flour) for offerings. They were quiet, reverent, and earnest in their worship. I was acutely aware of the fact that we were the only foreigners and was a little concerned we might be intruding. However no one seemed to mind. They were intensely focused on their prayers. When people did respond to us it was with disarming smiles and nods.

One of the kora stops was a giant smooth boulder that everyone crowed around. The mood had changed significantly as laughter and chatter filled the air. A hundred glowing faces, deep wrinkles around toothy smiles, rough hands clapping loudly in celebration. I was shocked to see that people were taking turns sliding headfirst down the boulder. I watched an old woman giggle while a group gently helped her lie on her back at the top of the boulder. Her soft gray braids scattered on the darker gray stone. She put her hands in prayer position and squealed as she slid and was caught by another group at the bottom. Justin whispered that he read about this in our guidebook. It was a ritual reenactment of birth in preparation for reincarnation.

We watched for a while before I was overcome with the desire to join the ritual, to be a participant rather than an observer. Suddenly I found myself standing at the top of the boulder ready to slide. A dozen approving voices surrounded me kindly explaining in Tibetan how this was done. Somehow I understood. My heart was pounding. The cold air pumping loudly through my lungs. I lay back on the slope looking up at the cloudless blue sky. I put my hands together in front of my heart and began to slide down. A sea of dancing fingers guided me gently through my rebirth. As their voices merged with the wind, I felt the coldness of the stone and the warmth of faith. My mind was quiet.

Several people helped me down off the boulder while the next pilgrim got ready to slide. I was shaking with excitement. Maybe it was all the blood rushing to my head. Maybe it was something more profound. I felt like I broke through some barriers. Sometimes I feel like I have a self-imposed “traveler barrier” keeping me from deeply connecting. This ritual helped release that fear…let if fly away. It also felt important to put my body into this ritual, breaking some barrier between theory and experience. Transforming theory into experience. Ritual can be so powerful. I felt these Buddhist ideas about the metaphysical in a physical way. I am still trying to understand it.

Justin held my hand as we continued to walk along the kora. He told me the next stop, the one he was most interested in, was the sky burial ground. The sky burial site was just far enough away that you could not hear the rejoicing around the rebirth stone. I had heard so much about sky burials where, after death, your loved ones bring your decaying body to the top of a mountain and chop it up for birds to eat. It is a profound practice of letting go in the Buddhist tradition of non-attachment. A compassionate gift of ones body to other sentient beings. An act of admitting that the soul moves on. Here on this ridge, there was a circle of white stones around a large plot of sand where the sky burials take place. Outside the circle there was a small pile of things left behind by the dead. It included a photo ID of a young man in an olive green jacket. His hair was ruffled and his face stern. There was a ragged string of prayer beads, scraps of clothing, bits of hair and some silver. These things were so real. My eyes fixed on them with a kind tunnel vision until a hawk flew by and I looked up. The sky was so open. So wide open. Calm. Expansive. Liberating. I sat in the grass nearby, closed my eyes and tried to listen. Maybe for the voices of the dead? I don't know how long I sat before I heard the song. A single woman's voice souring. It was fierce and sad and brave and beautiful. I opened my eyes and saw three sisters in the circle of white stones. One was singing while the other two took turns pretending to cut eachother’s flesh with a small dull blade. They were practicing, familiarizing themselves with the reality of death.

When they finished I got up quietly. The sky burial song was echoing in me. I walked to at the last stop on the kora, a giant outdoor oven filled with incense. Justin and Zami were there watching a worker from the monastery hand out bowls of incense to throw in the fire. The air was thick with the smell of sweet sage. I stood near the fire and let the bellowing clouds of smoke surround me, flow through me, cleanse me.

We spent the rest of the day wandering through the temples of the monastery. We read about Ganden’s political importance and association with the Dalai Lama. How it was destroyed in 1959 during China’s violent Cultural Revolution and about its slow ongoing reconstruction. At 2:30pm we boarded the bus for Lhasa. The old women near us beamed and friendly chatter bubbled all around. When the women realized we could not speak Tibetan they started to feed us. Oranges, chocolate, biscuits and raisins flowed our way. Later that night we ate dinner with Zami, who the next day would be beginning his journey home to Israel. He too beamed with satisfaction. “My last day in Tibet and I finally meet Tibet”.

Our Time in Tibet

2007-12-06T06:39:00.000-08:00

Tues Oct 2 Kathmandu - Zhangmu (7546ft)
Hours of suspense on the Friendship Bridge.

Wed Oct 3 Zhangmu - Lhatse (13,287ft)
Sneak past checkpoint. Tea in Tingri. Glimpse Mt. Everest.

Thurs Oct 4 Lhatse - Shigatse (12,795ft)
Tashilhunpo Monastery and the world's youngest political prisoner.

Fri Oct 5 Shigatse - Gyantse (12,959ft)
Anti-British Imperialist Museum & Secret Temples in the Old Fort.

Sat Oct 6 Gyantse to Lhasa (11,795ft)
Shorcut through Tibetan desert.

Sun Oct 7 Lhasa (11,795ft)
Pilgrims & Politics at Johkang and Potala Palace.

Mon Oct 8 Lhasa (11,795ft)
Zoe's birthday beads at Drepung Monastery. Monks debate at Sera.

Tues Oct 9 Lhasa (11,795ft)
Saying goodby to our Mexican, Polish and Danish travel companions.

Wed Oct 10 Lhasa to Nam Tso (15,479ft)
Zami & the 2nd highest lake in the world.

Thurs Oct 11 Nam Tso to Lhasa (11,795ft)
Nomads, sunburns and altitude sickness.

Fri Oct 12 Lhasa (11,795ft)
Street food in Tibet's back alleys.

Sat Oct 13 Lhasa - Ganden Monastery (14,764)
Rebirth & Sky Burial.

Sun Oct 14 Lhasa (11,795ft)
Waiting for permits to go east.

Mon Oct 15 Lhasa (11,795ft)
Chinese police and propaganda during the National Congress meeting.

Tues Oct 16 Lhasa (11,795ft)
Sweet tea and yak noodle soup in a Tibetan caffeteria.

Wed Oct 17 Lhasa - Sok (14,764ft)
Dalai Lama recieves Congressional Gold Medal from USA.
Tibetans celebrate in the streets despite China's threats.

Thurs Oct 18 Sok - Riwoche (11,467ft)
Restricted regions and police visits.

Fri Oct 19 Riwoche - Tengchen (13,780)
Receiving cameras and Tibetan hopitality.

Sat Oct 20 Tengchen - Nagchu (14,764ft)
Government-run hotels and constant police visits.

Sun Oct 21 Nachu - Lhasa (11,795ft)
Road side momos and black-necked cranes.

Mon Oct 22 Lhasa (11,795ft)
Sick from Nagchu.

Tues Oct 23 Lhasa (11,795ft)
Zoe: Still sick. Justin: Discovering Xianxian street kabobs.

Wed Oct 24 Lhasa (11,795ft)
Joining the Chinese hipster bus.

Thurs Oct 25 Lhasa - Shigatse (12,795ft)
Getting kicked off the Chinese hipster bus.

Fri Oct 26 Shigatse - Zhangmu (7546ft)
Pasan to the rescue: Rush to the border.

Sat Oct 27 Zhengmu - Kathmandu (4383ft)
Smuggling cameras through customs.

Numbers

2007-10-31T10:16:00.000-07:00

Apologies for the long silence. We weren’t able to update the blog during the Tibet trip because blogspot is banned in China, as is wikipedia. Over next couple of days we are going to blaze a path from Katmandu, our current location, to Dharamsala. After our back-to-back overnight train and bus rides, we’ll post fuller more detailed stories from Tibet.

For now a few numbers from our trip to Riwoche in Eastern Tibet.

Number of mountain passes: 6

Number of times the river changed directions: 8

Number of prostrating pilgrims: 392

Youngest pilgrim: 10

Number of police car rides: 1

Number of visits with the police: 5

Number of visits with National Security: 2

Number of hitchhikers we picked up: 2

Number of creeks forded: 13

Number of foxes: 6

Number of yaks: ???

Riding Bikes in Lumbini

2007-09-30T22:00:00.000-07:00

Lumbini is a quiet dusty town with two roads, one dirt and one paved. It is one of those towns you could easily pass by without realizing anything special was hidden there. However with the help of two bikes and a map we found a dozen giant breath taking Buddhist temples. Lumbini is the birthplace of Buddha and many Buddhist groups have built monasteries to celebrate the Buddha and his mother. Each monastery is built in the architectural style of its region. There are temples from Japan, China, Thailand, Burma, Vietnam, Korea and Tibet among others. The Tibetan temple is behind me. We spent two days riding bikes on tiny winding muddy paths through the forest. Now and again an unbelievable structure would rise from the horizon and we would have another gigantic structure to explore. There was hardly anyone else around except for temple guards dozing off in the shade or young monks going about their daily routines. A great sense of peace exists here.

Lumbini Peace Pagoda

2007-09-30T21:46:00.000-07:00

Behind me in this photo is the Peace Pagoda in Lumbini, Nepal the birthplace of Buddha. In Grafton, NY, two towns north of where I grew up, there is another Peace Pagoda built by the same monastic order. The Grafton Peace Pagoda and Jun-san, the amazing nun who maintains it, introduced me to Buddhism. The rituals and aesthetics of her order are the most comfortable for me. I was thrilled to see something familiar in Lumbini, a small town filled with Buddhist monasteries and temples from all over the world, each with their own style.

Sunset in Lumbini

2007-09-30T08:43:00.000-07:00

Indra Jatra

2007-09-29T09:44:00.001-07:00

From Justin:

We have been in Kathmandu the past few days mostly organizing and preparing for our trip to Tibet. We arrived in Kathmandu just in time for Indra Jatra, an eight-day harvest festival held in honor of Lord Indra the god of rain. We wandered into the festival the day the Kumari, the living goddess, is pulled through the streets in a giant chariot. It was also my birthday.

The event happens in Durbar square one of the oldest sections of Kathmandu. After quickly scoping out the area, we retreated to a café seeking refuge from the rain. As it let up we ventured out to discover one of the main thoroughfares just outside the cafe was closed, blocking us from the heart of the festival. We turned to the side streets and back alleys around the square, where we stumbled upon a crowd in the courtyard of a building cheering and screaming. There we saw the Lakhe, a dance between a man in a red, fanged mask with wild red hair and a boy in a blue Greco-Roman tunic. The dance had a David vs Goliath feel as the boy would chase the demon and the demon would then chase the boy all to the clash of a cymbal and beat of a solitary drum.

The folks in the courtyard were mostly young. There were some elderly folks on the ground but they were mostly leaning out of their windows, watching from above. The children were the most thrilled and frightened by the demon. They would run away as he danced around the courtyard. Two boys probably about 7 and 9 pulled on my coat to ask if I was scared. They told me they were very scared, especially when the demon shakes his head. As the dance wound down the boys invited us to follow them to the main square. At the square they explained more of the festival telling us of the giant white elephant who would appear and chase the demon away. We parted ways and they disappeared into the massive crowd that had assembled.

I was particularly struck by those two kids. I was surprised by how well they spoke English because they were so young. I was surprised they were wandering through such a huge crowd without an adult. But I was really taken aback by their kindness. They were genuinely interested in our reaction to the festival, attempted to explain elements of it and they were kind enough to guide us to the main square. In my handful of other travel experiences, I have rarely found adults to be this kind and helpful let alone kids. I think those two kids reflect the warm and welcoming attitude I've experienced in Nepal.

We spent the next hour or so walking through the rain, and watching the crowd. We saw more red masked demons running about and a giant white elephant made of cloth representing the god Ganesh. Processions of musicians passed by and finally three giant wooden chariots, with wooden wheels, appeared, one of which we knew held the Kumari. The chariots were heaved by groups of men, intoxicated with the excitement of the festival. They were encircled by a large group of police who seemed bewildered with keeping the crowd at bay. The chariots must have been incredibly heavy because they did not roll smoothly and only moved in starts and stops. The crowd of men would pull and then quickly move to avoid the approaching wheels. The middle chariot, the one with the Kumari, came to a dangerous, abrupt stop just in front of us. We were barely able to see her because the chariot was also filled with other people but Zoe did get a picture of her.

We left the square soon after the chariots passed. We were soaked from the rain and I was drained from the entire event. I was also eagerly looking forward to my birthday meal, which turned out to be one of the best on the trip so far.

Busted Bus Windows

2007-09-29T09:26:00.000-07:00

from zoeann...
I’ve only seen India by night. Through the windows of overnight buses. For the last three weeks we have been in Tibetan enclaves, tucked away in dusty quiet corners of India. We have been surrounded by Tibetan people, news and culture. From the bus window, India is a mess of watercolors splashed on tiny grubby rectangles of glass. The florescent colors are dripping, swirling and exploded on the other side of the window.

Our latest overnight bus ride was from Dharamsala to the Tibetan Colony, Majnu ka Tilla in Delhi. The ride was like a Saturday Night Live skit. We boarded our deluxe sleeper bus around 6pm with 35 other people. Every seat had its own funky problem and every white person wanted to change seats. My seat was situated at a very funny angle so I had to lean on Justin during most of the ride. My seat was also soaking wet from the monsoon rains that came earlier that day. Justin was caged into his seat by a metal ladder leading up to the sleeper cell above us. Every once and a while dainty plump toes would swing down from the sleeper cell above. Justin would duck to avoid getting kicked in the face. Some seats didn’t recline and others would only stay in the upright position. The whole bus smelled like armpits. Justin and I watched tourists yell and moan while frantic bus drivers tried to accommodate everyone. Mostly that meant grumpy tourists getting their way and local folks getting busted seats. After about an hour of intense arguments and seat rearrangements we started to head down the mountain.

It was misty and bumpy. Our three Indian bus drivers spirited us away, hurling us around hairpin turns while swerving to dodge oncoming construction trucks. Once and a while the fog would lift and we could look across a valley at the road we were just on. The hillsides were sparkling with tiny lights from homes and car headlights on the other side. The sliver of a deep yellow moon dangled above us. When the light was right we could see the steep and craggy cliff we were driving along. We only sideswiped a few cars before hitting traffic. I think there must have been some sort of landslide and the road just couldn’t fit our deluxe sleeper bus and the truck full of dirt ahead. But they tried. As our bus inched past the truck I buried my head in Justin’s shoulder. I was scared that the metal hooks on the dirt truck would bust through our window. What a sigh of relief when we our window was in the clear. But just then, CRAACKKK…POPPP, shattered glass all over the back of the bus. The breaks screeched and the three Indian bus drivers ran out of the bus to start fighting with the crowd of people standing around the dirt truck. A Tibetan woman in the back calmly picked pieces of glass off her seat and dropped them out the hole where the window had been. Each shard plopped down into a pile of dirt bellow.

Soon we were off again. I was so happy when we got out of the mountains. We were lucky I guess. Earlier this year a tourist bus drove off one of a cliff killing a dozen people. When we reached the lowlands it was hot but the heat seemed like a fair trade to be off those roads. For the next 9 hours we rattled through many villages full of incredibly poor people. Everywhere people were sleeping on the side of the road or on the median between two roads or in their cycle rickshaw. Sometimes we would pass glowing Hindu temples all lit up with multi colored lights and blasting music on loudspeakers. At some point in the middle of the night we forged a river because a bridge was unsafe. We were in water halfway up the side of the bus but no one seemed to mind. Around 9am we arrived in Delhi. A monk we made friends with on the ride walked with us to our hotel where we passed out.

Coming to India

2007-09-17T06:05:00.000-07:00

We arrived in India around midnight and spent hours bribing a pack of customs officials to let us bring a bag full of cameras into the country. After we handed over a ridiculous amount of money we went straight to Majnu Ka Tila, the Tibetan colony in Delhi, to sleep. From there we caught the overnight bus to Dharamsala, the town in northern India where many Tibetan refugees live and where we will spend a good deal of our time this winter. Dharamsala is the home of the Dalai Lama and the Tibetan government in exile. Tibetans walk for weeks or months over the Himalayas to arrive in this rainy mountainous safe space. Some refugees set roots but many Tibetans seem to stay only until they have the English skills and resources to move to other areas of India or abroad. The town is also bubbling with foreign travelers. The majority of the young tourists are Israeli hippies. Most of the Israelis come after doing their mandatory time in the military.

The Tibetan community has done an incredible job of harnessing the tourism industry for their benefit. Many tourists volunteer at community centers, eat at the restaurants and buy stuff in the market. Dharamsala is not the place to go if you want to learn about ancient or untouched Tibetan culture. But it is the perfect place to learn about the current culture of Tibetan refugees. Thousands of refugees have incredible stories that they are eager to tell. We learned a lot volunteering in a conversational English class. Each day for two weeks we sat with groups of 5 or 6 people to practice English. I would begin by asking a general question about Tibetan culture but the conversation always turned to politics and the issue of Tibet’s freedom. People spoke directly about the hope that Tibet will soon be free. Many feel it is time to rise up and fight for Tibet’s freedom. The youth is restless and many monks are willing to give up their robes to take up arms. Still, most of the people we talked to greatly respect and love the Dalai Lama. While he is alive the majority of Tibetans will follow his non-violent middle way approach.

We spent two weeks in Dharamsala, which we will write at great length about soon. We left Dharamsala last night and will return there in November to hold an unseenamerica/unseenworld Bread & Roses photo class with an incredible group of refugees. The class will be made up of are workers, monks and Lha staff. They already have the cameras and will be emailing us stories about their lives while we are on the road. We are now in Delhi on our way to Tibet. We are traveling over land by bus, train and jeep. The journey should take a week or two. I am happy we have the time to go slowly.

I would love to hear all of your thoughts…

xoz

Arrival

2007-09-16T00:19:00.001-07:00

We arrived in Dharamsala at dawn on September 5^th. We were exhausted from the overnight bus that carried us along dirt roads from Delhi to Dharamsala. The bus chugged, rattled and shook for 12 hours before climbing the steep winding mountain road to this little town. We were met with a warm smile by Karma who brought to his home, fed us porridge and tea then sent us down the hill to hear to the Dalai Lama’s public talks. We were there just in time to cram into the temple yard with hundreds of Tibetans and listen to His Holiness talk about compassion.

We slept for a solid day before beginning our work at Lha. Lha is a Tibetan run community center in the heart of town. Their website is www.lhaindia.org. At Lha we have been teaching photo and English.

Dalai Lama's Temple in Dharamsala

2007-09-15T23:56:00.000-07:00

The Project: unseenworld

2007-09-12T07:18:00.000-07:00

unseenworld

The project we are working on while traveling in South Asia is unseenworld, an international arts project for workers and refugees to describe their lives through photography. Photographers learn to become seen while they document impacts of globalization on communities throughout the world.

This September the project launched a class with Tibetan refugees in Dharamsala, India. We’ll continue over the course of a year throughout Asia. We hope to also work with Burmese refugees in Thailand. The core of the program is a series of free photography workshops. Workers and refugees receive cameras and photography instruction while engaging in discussions about self-representation. Participants tell their stories through their photographs. The pictures will be accompanied by audio recordings of storytelling, street sounds, community festivals, and the sounds that compose the pulse and spirit of daily life. We hope that the culmination of unseenworld will be a traveling exhibit, multimedia website and book.

unseenworld is an expansion of unseenamerica, an innovative arts project created in order to add the vision of workers to the vision of society. unseenamerica was conceived by Esther Cohen the Executive Director of the Bread and Roses Cultural Project of 1199SEIU, a 30-year old non-profit 501c3. In the last five years, unseenamerica has completed photography workshops and exhibits with workers, immigrants and refugees in over 300 cities and towns across the nation. unseenamerica has been featured on CBS, NPR, and World News Tonight with Peter Jennings, among others. Articles have appeared in The New York Times, Washington Post, Newsweek and scores of other national and local papers. In May 2006, Regan Books of Harper Collins released a beautiful hardcover book of photographs from the project, entitled: unseenamerica: Photos and Stories by Workers.

We are thrilled to have the privilege to be doing this work while we travel. Zoeann will focus on the photography while Justin’s focus is audio. This blog will help us stay in touch and share our travel experiences and creative process with you.

Love
Zoeann & Justin