THE HOLY LAKE

Lake Namtso, a mountain lake at an elevation of 4, 718 meters on the border between Damxung County and Bangoin County, is a resounding name for everyone in Tibet, and other Tibetan inhabited areas such as Qinghai, Sichuan, Gansu, and Yunnan. It is one of the highest lakes in the world, and the second largest saline lake in China. It is regarded as the purest“holy lake” by the Tibetans. Year in and year out, countless pilgrims, tourists, and explorers have been drawn here by its fairyland-like scenery and mythical tales.

For thousand of years, the Tibetans have seen the mountains, rivers and all things on their homeland spiritual beings. The plateau is full of beautiful legends. In Tibetan,“Namtso” means “heavenly lake”. It is the most sacred “holy lake”. In my numerous trips to Tibet, I have been here for a total of eight times, more than any other place.

SKETC HES OF LAKE NAMTSO

Lake Namtso lies at an elevation of 4,718 meters, and extends from east to west. It is 70 kilometers in length, and 30 kilometers in width. It is the largest and highest lake in Tibet Autonomous Region. Among China’s saline lakes, its surface area is second only to the Qinghai Lake. Lake Titicaca in South America is often considered the highest lake in the world. But actually Lake Namtso is 906 meters higher than it.

Thousands of years ago, Tibet lay under the ancient sea of Tethys. As a result of the orogeny of the Himalayas in the Tertiary Period, the sea retreated, plateau uplifted, and many saline lakes were formed in the mountain valleys. Lake Namtso is the biggest one of them all. The Mongolian troops were once stationed in north Tibet. In Mongolian, “Namtso” is called “Tengri Nor” (“Heavenly Lake”). Lake Namtso is indeed as immense as the sea; you’ve got to see it to believe: the lake and the sky seem to blend together, waves surge sky high, fish swim merrily in water, and birds fl utter in the sky. A friend told me a true story once: several years ago, an unexpected tourist came to Lake Namtso. He was Gino, a middleaged surfer from Los Angeles, USA. Having spotted this plateau lake on the map purely by chance, he made fi ve trips to Tibet, and came to Lake Namtso. On September 26, 1997, he came back to Lake Namtso fully prepared, and dived in the water alone. After several failed attempts, he stood up again. Fighting off the numbness of frostbite, he managed to ride the waves at the speed of dozens of kilometers per hour, and realized his dream of surfi ng on the heavenly lake…

TRIP TO LAKE NAMTSO IN 2000

On a day in August, 2000, we left Lhasa at dawn, and drove north along the Qinghai-Tibet Highway. Before that, it only took less than three hours to reach Damxung, which is 168 kilometers away from Lhasa. But due to the recent reconstruction of the Lhasa-Yangbajing section of the highway, 90-plus kilometers of asphalt road became a potholed dirt road, which made our journey a slow and bumpy ride. It was past 1 pm when we finally got to Damxung. Damxung is part of Lhasa Municipality in administrative terms, but its natural scenery was more akin to that of the north Tibet grassland. We drove past herds of sheep and cows, and saw magnifi cent landscape on our way. We also came across a group of people on a prostrating pilgrimage from Sog County in Nagqu Prefecture to Lhasa. They had been on the road for over three months. My colleagues and I were touched and mystifi ed by their perseverance and determination.

Once in Damxung, we left the main road, and went northwest into a valley. There are 233 kilometers between Lhasa and Lake Namtso. Although Tibet has suffered from a chronic lack of rain for several years, the water level of Lake Namtso, an enclosed lake, has kept rising in spite of continuous evaporation, and the surface area of the lake has been expanding. Statistics from 10 lakeside observation points of Lake Namtso observation station of the Institute of Tibetan Plateau Research showed that over the past 30 years, the surface area of Lake Namtso has expanded by 60 square kilometers, from 1920 square kilometers to 1980. In the year 2005 alone, the surface rose by over 60 centimeters. Scientific research shows that the lake water comes mainly from glacier meltwater, thawing of frozen soil, and natural precipitation.

Lake Mapham Yutso, Lake Yamdrok, and Lake Namtso are known collectively as three major holy lakes in Tibet. Their natural beauty and mythical powers are engraved upon Tibetan people’s hearts. I had been to Lake Namtso many times before this, but it still fascinated me. When our car came into the valley, the road became bumpier. Luckily the rainy season was over; so we did not have to worry about the wheels being stuck in the mud. As the car engine roared, and the car bumped and shook, I became lost in my memories. And those unforgettable trips to Lake Namtso leaped into my mind…

10 years ago, in 1991, on an old J eep Cherokee borrowed in Lhasa, I made my fi rst trip to Lake Namtso. The driver did not know the way, so we spent a lot of time in swamps without getting close to the lake. Watching the turquoise lake water from afar, I was both excited and anxious. So close already, but only got one glance like this? No way. There was no one around to ask for directions, and we were a bit short on gas. So after a short discussion, we decided to walk to the lake. It was at almost 5,000 meters above sea level, and we were surrounded by swamps. But we stumbled along for over two hours, panting heavily, and fi nally reached the lake shore. The water of Lake Namtso and the blue sky seemed to merge together, so beautiful and peaceful. Looking at the waves of white water pounding on the shore, and listening to the roar of the water like the sea, I squat down, scooped up some ice-cold water with my hands, and splashed my head and face with it. The water was cold, but my heart was warm with delight…

We parked the car on the biggest clearing on the Tashi peninsula. The caves beneath the north cliff used to be occupied by a small number of monks or nun. Now, a row of wooden huts and two makeshift houses sat there in the clearing, and there was a black tent made by yak hair, and there was a small gasoline generator and a small restaurant. Those constituted the earliest tourist facilities in Lake Namtso.

The grey clouds gave way to sunshine. Lake Namtso was in her full clear and blue glory. We ran to the lake joyously. Lake Namtso was simply stunning: eagles soared in the blue sky dotted with white clouds; birds skimmed low over the water and sent spray flying. Stood to the south of the lake was the majestic Mount Nyenchen Tanglha, which became very famous when the torch of Beijing 1990 Asian Games was ignited here by Tibetan girl Dawa Yangzom.

Nyenchen Tanglha means “the Lord of Light”in Tibetan. Legend has it that it used to be a sacred mountain of Bon, then it was subdued by Padmasambhava, and became a holy mountain of Tibetan Buddhism; Chumo, the goddess of Lake Namtso, was one of the 12 protector goddesses of Tibet. Nyenchen Tanglha was struck by her beauty, and they became a loving couple, and protected Tibet together.

J ust as I was lost in my thoughts in these beautiful tales, a thunder rolled. In the blink of an eye, before the sun was completely covered by dark clouds, it started drizzling, wind started blowing, and the temperature dropped abruptly. It became dark in a matter of minutes. Threads of rains with hailstones fell down. It was not so much of a storm, but a good example of the unpredictability of the plateau weather. I pocketed my camera, and hurried back to our car. Before long, snowflakes replaced threads of rain and hailstones. It was all dark above the lake. The golden Namtso was nowhere to be seen. Mount Nyenchen Tanglha was shrouded by the dark clouds. This sudden change of weather took everyone by surprise. Some started complaining of bad luck: not enough time to appreciate the scenery, now everything was gone. To cheer them up, I asserted in blind confidence, “the plateau weather is just like that. Let’s enjoy the changes. It will clear up for sure.”

We decided to sleep in the makeshift houses. The rate was RMB 25 Yuan for a bed. According to the Tibetan tradition, circumambulating Lake Namtso is a must once you are here, for it will bring good luck. It is said that Lake Namtso was born in the year of ram. So during April and May of the year of ram on the Tibetan calendar, thousands of people made pilgrimages from afar to circumambulate the lake. The shoreline of Lake Namtso is over 200 kilometers long. It can easily take 10 to 15 days for one to fi nish a full circle, or 6 to 7 days if you are very fast. Going around Tashi peninsula would carry the same merits as circumambulation of the lake. Therefore, on each trip here, I would make sure to circumambulate the peninsula.

I put my camera in a plastic bag, and set off walking around the island. The plateau weather was indeed peculiar: it cleared up soon, and the sky and lake looked even more crystal-clear after the rain and snow. Rocks by the lake were well-washed by the rain. Piles of Mani stones with mantras or Buddha images inscribed on them looked shiny and fresh in the sunlight. A dozen long prayer banners flew in the wind. Their colors of yellow, red, green, blue, and white were so bright they were dazzling. I could not control my excitement, took out my camera, and snapped many photos of the blue sky, lake water, and prayer banners. Besides the howling wind and the sound of the waves beating on the shore, only audible sounds were from my racing heart beats and heavy footsteps.

Typical karst topography is another natural attraction of Lake Namtso: karst caves, rock columns, and rocks of various shapes are everywhere. Legend has it that some stone powder can cure diseases; some caves could bring good luck and prevent misfortunes; others cure infertility… These miraculous effects were all beautiful wishes by the locals, representing their quest and yearning for a better life.

LAKE NAMTSO AT DUSK

Maybe it was pure luck, or maybe my prayer was answered, before night fell, when I finished my walk around the island and came back to the campsite, the mercurial sky of Lake Namtso cleared up again all of a sudden.

The golden sunlight struck through the clouds. Though Mount Nyenchen Tanglha was still shrouded by clouds, the meadow by the lake shore was glowing. The clear water was gleaming too. The curvy shoreline was like a gold necklace on a goddess. Everyone rushed out, some shouting with excitement. A foreign couple ran up to a Mani stone cairn and knelt down, kowtowed to the holy lake, and hugged and kissed; two young ladies, dressed in red and yellow, ran down the bank hand in hand, calling and praying to the lake, forgetting all about their altitude sickness. I didn’t capture the fi rst girl with my camera, but in the view-finder, I clearly saw the latter one. Their youth and vigor gave life to this tranquil lakeshore. We were really fortunate, because we not only experienced the wonders of the unpredictable weather of the plateau, but also witnessed the golden moments of the beautiful holy lake. It was the fi rst time for me, who had been here for 5 times already, to see such amazing sights; for those fi rst-timers, it was an absolute blessing.

In a moment, the clouds on the west turned yellow from red, and then turned dark. After a gust of strong wind, dark clouds befogged the lake, and it started snowing again. I made sure everyone had accommodation secured, and went to check on two fellow travelers who had lain down due to bad cases of altitude sickness. And then I walked out of the wooden hut again, only to see the empty lakeshore completely shrouded in the darkness. An idiosyncratic friend insisted on putting up a tent and spending the night outside. His yellow and red tent was covered with snow. It looked like for tonight, only this solitary tent would accompany the holy lake in the snow. But the silver lining was that the fellow had 3 sleeping bags, which would hopefully keep him relatively warm.

With snowfl akes drifting down, I stood by myself by the lake, gulped in the cold air, and enjoying the precious moment.

Darkness fell. Feeling hungry, I stepped into the small restaurant. It was warm inside. When I was about to get my torchlight, the light bulb on the roof was suddenly turned on and everyone in that small room cheered. That was the small power generator working. There were 3 wooden tables inside. One was occupied by 2 drivers, and there were already 7 empty beer bottles on it. The second table was taken by a foreigner with long blond hair. Several other foreigners were huddling together by the fi re in the center of the room. These young men and women were from the United States and Sweden. They had been here for 3 days. A small bespectacled girl sat by herself in front of the counter. I sat down by the third table with two friends. We ordered 3 bowls of egg fried rice, and one tomato cabbage soup. Egg fried rice cost RMB 18 Yuan, the soup 15. A small blackboard serving as the menu hang on the wall: stir-fried shredded potato cost 18, fried beef 25…Still, it was nice to have something warm to eat in such a remote place.

When we were about to leave, that girl in glasses came up and introduced herself in English: from South Korea, she crossed the mountains from Damxung a week ago, and walked 3 days to Lake Namtso, but she sprained her ankle when she got there. She had already been waiting for 3 days, but couldn’t fi nd a ride back. We are all moved by this brave girl, and decided to take her with us, despite that there was not much room left car was full. She smiled and bowed deeply to us. It was at this moment that I saw that her right foot was heavily bandaged. Our chat was interrupted by the notice for power shutoff. We had to go back to our rooms immediately. It was still snowing, and the power went off before we entered the room. When the weather was nice, starlight and moonlight could be seen there. But now the island was pitch dark. Our only source of light was the fl ashlights. Thankfully, we had some thick quilts, so the small room was not too cold. The wind kept whistling outside in the otherwise quiet night. I wrapped myself in all my clothes, and started to drift off.

SOLITARY NUN

At the first sign of dawn, I got up, opened the door gently, and immediately shivered at the frosty bike of the cold air. Stepping out, I saw the autumn land clad in white, Lake Namtso had turned into a world of ice and snow, especially the mountains in the distance-looked like there was a bigger snow up there. I walked alone to the tip of the peninsula.

The morning of Lake Namtso was peaceful; there was no wind or noise, just the squeaking sound of my walking on the snow. My breath made white fog in the chilly air. I looked around aimlessly, and saw a fi gure by the lake. Peeking through my camera’s telephoto lens, I saw a nun in a yellow sweater vest and a red skirt carry a white plastic bucket to bring water from the lake. I took a picture of her from afar, and went on to the Mani stone wall on the tip of the peninsula.

Mani stone wall was a major cultural attraction on the Tashi peninsula. It was formed by stone plates and pebbles of various sizes and shapes. They were inscribed with mantras or Buddha images, and were all prayer offerings for health, peace and protection by pilgrims from everywhere. A Mani stone represents the wishes and charitable deeds of a person or a family. On these small stones lie their good wishes for this and the next life. To offer Mani stones is a traditional way to pray. Those stones then became an important medium of Tibetan stone-carving art. After centuries of compilation, a stone wall of a dozen meters long stood here. It was decorated with yak and sheep horns inscribed with sutra texts, and a dozen faded long prayer banners. Some carvings on the Mani stones featured fl uid lines, and bold and vigorous calligraphy patterns. They were wonderful examples of Tibetan stone-carving art.

On my way back, in front of a cave, I bumped into the young nun carry water. She was pouring water into an iron pot. That cave was apparently her home. My showing up out of nowhere took this small, plump girl with fair skin by surprise. She looked 17 or 18 at most.

I waved to her, and then pointed to the cave. She nodded. To ease her concerns, I took out my photos of the 10th and 11th Panchen Lamas, and pointed to the camera hung around my neck. She seemed to understand that the photos were taken by me, and gestured that she wanted them. I nodded and handed them over. She took the photos, patted them on the top of her head, and her face broke out into a smile. I motioned to the cave, asking if I could go in, she nodded again smiling. So I edged my way into the small cave.

I expected the cave to be tiny and dark, but it turned out to be fairly spacious and warm. This was a double cave with an inner and outer chamber It had a narrow entrance, a small window, and ample light inside. The wall was by no means smooth, but not too jagged either. The inner chamber was only about 2 square meters big. A Buddha statue in niche, several Thangkas, and some photos of living Buddha, were placed prominently. It was a bit dark in the inner chamber, so I switched on my flashlight, and saw photos of the Panchan Lama and a bespectacled thin monk, whom I later found out to be a renowned living Buddha from the Drepung Monastery in Lhasa. Inside the cave, the girl poured the water into the 7 bowls in front of the niche. In the Tibetan Buddhist tradition it is customary to offer clean water daily. She then looked at me, and pointed to the picture frame in the inner chamber, and gestured me to place the photos I gave her there too. I nodded. Since we met she had not said a single word. Where did she come from? How long had she been living here? Her family ever came to visit her? What about food? I had so many questions. She exited the inner chamber, straightened her clothes, sat down cross-legged on two small sitting rugs on the ground, and took out a scripture book and a tantric bell. I gathered that she was a nun who travelled a long distance to here. J udging from the furnishings in the cave, she had been living here for quite some time already. There were two flour bags with Tsampa in them in a corner by the window; several deep-fried dough and a dozen hard candies laid in the paper box nearby; and by the rugs there were carefully folded quilts and some clothes. Next to her reading spot sat a thermos and a small butter bucket, and a green plastic comb and a small mirror were placed on the window sill. It looked like the young nun had kept her life in good order. Nevertheless, in this remote place, to practice Buddhism and further her studies all by herself would have been impossible but for some tremendous faith, determination and perseverance. I had heard that there were quite a number of people like her in Tibet. Their families usually provided them with food, clothing and daily necessities, and they also received donations from tourists and pilgrims. I tried to strike up a conversation, and it took me some efforts to understand that she was named Tsondru Lhadron and from Shigatse, and that was all. Before I left, I brought out some candies, chocolates, and a 10-RMB bill from my pocket, gently placed them in the paper box on the window sill. I wished her a fruitful study experience.

PUSHING C ARS THROUG H A SNOWY MOUNTAIN PASS

Because of heavy snow during the night, the road was covered with snow, our driver said that he did not know the route well, and did not want to hit the road alone. We could only wait patiently until we fi nally found some other cars to form a team. At 10 am, the temperature had raised quite a bit, the fi ve cars set out together. Our two cars dropped at the tail of the team.

We left the peninsula, and passed the grassland completely blanketed by snow. The fi rst car went pretty fast. I heard the one behind the wheel was an old and experienced tour bus driver who knew the road well. However, maybe it was because of the snow, or some other reasons, we went the long way, and were forced to make 2 u-turns in less than an hour. It looked like the snow had disoriented even the most experienced driver. We could only follow the car in front slowly. The Toyota behind us stopped abruptly with its horn sounding. We had to stop and wait, but it never showed up, so we had no choice but to go back. It turned out that for some mysterious reason, the car engine’s cooling fan blades were all broken. It could only drag on, no matter how slowly. Our car had to fall back with it. The two cars pushed forward like snails. It was deadly silent in the car. The car’s A/C kept it pretty warm. Someone had already started dozing off.

A big truck showed up in front. Someone waved to stop us. We learned that the truck had been stuck in the swamp for a whole night. The drivers were both tired and cold. Two Chinese men with Gansu accents and a Tibetan asked us for food. We brought out all the bread, sausages, instant noodles, and several bottles of water. They were very grateful, and insisted on giving some fi sh on the car to us. We declined this kind offer. Before we left, I took out my last half pack of cigarettes, and threw it over. Things like this happened a lot in Tibet, and people would always lend a hand.

Our car labored on with more increasing difficulty as elevation increased. Soon we were on the mountain road. Driver said we would not get lost again. Nagenla mountain pass was just further ahead. Looking up, the cars in front were nowhere to be seen. The road was narrow, snow was thick, and the car wheels wouldn’t bite on the slippery surface of the zigzagging road. For security, the car was switched to four-wheel drive mode, and we immediately experienced better control. As the road sloped up, snow was also piled up, the car climbed bit by bit. The front wheels kept slipping, the tail kept swerving. Tension filled the car. We stared ahead, and held fast to the handles. The car fi nally stalled. Everyone was scared to death.

The only choice let was to get off the car and start pushing. On this 40 degree mountain slope, the snow was nearly 20 centimeters deep. Following my rally call, all men got out to push the car. With the car roaring, we shouted and pushed hard, but it only moved a bit. I ran to the front, only to see the driver kept the front wheels at an angle of 45 degrees, for fear of slipping. No wonder the car would not move. We pulled our strength together. I stood in front to give the driver directions. After three attempts, the fi rst car climbed up slowly. We all sat down in exhaustion on the snowy ground, panting heavily. The thin air lacked oxygen. Everyone was depleted of strength, so the altitude sickness and dyspnea only got more severe. We were relieved to see the first car go past the mountain pass. After a short break, we started working on the second car. The driver of this car was an old and experienced one. I did not need to wave to give him directions. We shouted and pushed, leaving a track of footsteps in the snow-covered mountain road. There was about 2 kilometers between the starting point and the mountain pass. Braving the freezing weather, gasping for air, we somehow managed to push the car forward for over 100 meters. At last, it gathered enough momentum and went by itself. We could not catch up with it, and all fell down on the ground. Someone yelled,“Look!” We got up. The sun had risen; the snow-capped mountains were as white as polished jade. Spurred on by this beautiful view, we talked excitedly as we walked along, and finished this steep section of the road. We fi nally reached the mountain pass and met with the cars. Besides our two cars, there were 3 cars coming in from Damxung. Dozens of people shouted and jumped for joy, oblivious to the fact that this was 5, 190 meters above sea level. The mountain pass was suddenly bustling with energy. The sun was shining brightly. The blue sky, white clouds, snow mountains, and the colorful prayer banners flying above the Mani stones cairns by the mountain pass formed quite a scene to behold. The heavenly lake looked more ravishing than before. I grabbed my camera from the car, and took photos of the blue sky, snow mountains, people and prayer banners…

After this trip, I returned to Lake Namtso for several times. As the tourism industry grew, new roads were built, farmers from Damxung moved here to work: they opened guesthouses, restaurants, small stands, or rented out their own horses to the tourists. In the peak season, there were over 40 travel agencies operating here. The once untraversed Lake Namtso became busier and busier as the number of tourists increased, and more and more temporary and permanent buildings were springing up.

Let’s hope that Lake Namtso will always remain unspoiled and beautiful.