Hello all! I am back in the country of McDonald's and Mayonnaise (neither of which I saw in China though I am sure they can be had). My travels were absolutely incredible. Tibet, though not holding up to Western romantic views, was one of the most amazing, bizarre, and crazy places I've ever been. Where to begin the list?
Well, to begin with, I would've updated this site more often had I actually BEEN ABLE TO VISIT IT. Yes, jeffreynorris.smugmug.com is censored by the People's Republic of China, the good ol' PR of C. But the flattery that came when I first realized this did not last long: in fact, all blogs on Blogger, LiveJournal, and a number of other blogging services are categorically blocked. How surprising. Personal expression is not exactly valued in China.
But all this leads me to what was by far the most interesting part of my trip: walking the delicate balance of being a Western, no less United States, health volunteer in a highly authoritarian country. The Chinese government is not exactly ready to except aid from anyone or anywhere. Our organization, like any NGO in Tibet, has always had to prudently interact with the government. We have to take great pains to prove that we do not present a subversive element and are willing to work hand-in-hand with the local government health bureau (read, with government oversight at almost every step). But what this meant for me as a volunteer was much more profound. I found that before I had even landed in Tibet, I was holding my tongue and censoring myself.
Tourists in China, by in large, do not have to fear repercussions from challenging the authority of the PRC. Unless some egregious act is committed (unfurling a "Free Tibet" banner on Mount Everest), one can bad mouth the Chinese as much as they want. And no doubt, the culture of most travelers to Tibet includes a deep frustration and disgust with what is going on in Tibet. The worst that could happen to someone is that upon trying to return another time to Tibet, they might be denied an entry permit.
But as a volunteer, my position was not so simple. Though I might not have been personally on the line, my organization's reputation depended heavily on it. Many NGOs have been kicked out of Tibet as a result of the actions of their volunteers. So I found myself being especially careful. When I was talking with other tourists (who were not volunteers), they inevitably brought up their frustrations with the oppressive conditions in Tibet. I found myself deflecting their comments, giving wishy-washy answers, and not really saying what I believed. Moreover, I found myself not only talking to the person physically in front of me, but the microphone that in all likely hood was somewhere nearby. I found myself talking to some Chinese surveillance specialist who might be listening. I found myself trying to prove that I would not be a subversive element, that our organization was willing to play by the unsaid rules set by the government. This is NOT how I normally act. To say the least, it was a WEIRD feeling.
Microphones and in fact cameras are know to be placed in all kinds of public places from restaurants and hotels to public squares. I felt their presence all the time. Even in the edges of town in the parks, I was always worried a microphone was listening (though this was unlikely in parks). Only when on hikes with the local Tibetan staff from my organization did I feel as though I could talk and ask questions freely.
And what I did find out at last was quite depressing. Tibet as it is is surely dieing. Most of the fears of Western observers appeared true to me, though they might be sometimes exaggerated. The number of Chinese tourists in Lhasa, the capital Lhasa, was incredible; they must have outnumbered Western tourist ten to one. Buddhist has been presented as a sort of exotic play toy for the camera toting, non-Tibetan speaking Chinese tourist. Most did not even seem to learn a few basic words in Tibetan, the classic "Thank you", "Hello", and "Pardon me" of traveling. A number of times I greeting Chinese in Tibetan ("Tashi delek") and received either confused or borderline angry looks (to the credit of one group of Chinese in Western Tibet, they replied in Tibetan).
All, the number of Chinese LIVING in Lhasa and other parts of Tibet was stunning. Even in the rural areas I visited, I found Han Chinese living and working. What appeared to be the better half of Lhasa was Chinese, and it LOOKS Chinese. When you walk from the old Tibetan center to the newly developed, neon-light covered Chinese side of town, you know you've crossed some sort of invisible barrier.
But, before I finish this post (I've got more to talk about, but it'll have to wait for other posts), I want to end on a positive note. To the credit of the Chinese, there are some positive sides to the state of affairs in Tibet. The Chinese ARE building roads and medical facilities in quite rural areas. Granted these are not necessary built for the benefit of Tibetans and are built without their input or control, but they do provide Tibetans with something good.
Anyway, I could write so, so, so much more, but another post, another post. Anyway, let me know what you think and how you are if I haven't talked to you in awhile! I will be in Salt Lake until at least December, as medical school starts in about two weeks. I will be moving into a new house with some cool new people! Anyone is welcome to visit; there's always a free place to stay in the land of Mormons, Mountains, Minivans, and Methamphetamine.
