Drepung Monastery, the Oracle at Nechung, and Football in the Streets

Drepung Monastery Photo Gallery

Nechung Monastery Photo Gallery

Lhasa Photo Gallery

Welcome to the Drepung Monastery…

Formerly the world’s largest monastery, Drepung translates to ‘rice heap’ in reference to the large number of white monastic buildings stretching across the hillside. The monastery was first founded in the early 1400s, and in 1530 the second Dalai Lama established the Drepung's Ganden Palace as the home of the Dalai Lamas. (The Potala Palace was later built by the fifth and most famous Dalai Lama in 1649). Although there are only 800 monks still living at Drepung, the monastery once housed 10,000 monks, complete with 180 estates and over 20,000 serfs working the lands.

Eager to begin another day in Lhasa, yet content to savor every second of sleep in an actual bed, I was indecisive over when to get out of bed this morning. Fortunately, Beijing-time means the sun comes up quite late in the mornings, so I was able to have my cake and eat it too.

The early morning streets are busy just like any other city. There were farmers lining the streets with hemp bags containing vegetables or rice, rounded yak butter piled into stacks, and men offloading massive chunks of yak meat.

By 10am I alighted from another public bus at Drepung Monastery (described above.) One of the first things I came across were a group of women burning juniper incense in much the same way people burn incense sticks. However, as anyone who has ever tried lighting a Christmas tree on fire, juniper is extremely flammable and creates a lot of smoke.

Having had such a rewarding experience yesterday at Sera Monastery, I immediately began another kora around Drepung's monastic complex. Climbing at an altitude of 3600m always makes life difficult, especially because I haven't given myself the appropriate 4 days to acclimatize, but the views over Lhasa, Buddhist rock paintings, and struggling alongside Buddhist pilgrims makes the hardships disappear.

One of the more troubling parts of this particular kora was seeing the massive destruction left over from the bombardment by the Red Guards when they took Tibet. Further, while I was walking through various monastic buildings within the complex, I saw communist propaganda carelessly painted across one of the chapel hallways and a scratched out portrait of Chairman Mao in a doorway. Such reminders of the dreadful abuse inflicted upon the Tibetans is  a lot tougher to imagine when you experience their unparalleled lifestyle firsthand.

I have been looking all over Lhasa for the book Seven Years in Tibet, but I may have to wait until Katmandu before I can find any English novels - especially when books containing such controversial topics are sure to be censored.

I spent several hours exploring the dark halls of the monastery. The places that stand out the most in my mind were the rooms containing century old scrolls, an enormous room used by the monks for their prayers, and the various rooms designated as a shrine to a particular Buddhist deity.

Afterward, I walked through the hills for about one kilometer to a temple containing the Oracle of the Dalai Lama. The buildings were each painted blood red on the outside, and there was a definite sense of foreboding about the place. The inner courtyard had dramatic (if not gruesome) murals encircling the walls that depicted the slaughter and torture possible by various Buddhist deities. The mutilated bodies and various torture techniques (miter into the groin or fiery scepter into the anus) were reminiscent of the scenes of Hell painted on the roof of the Duomo in Florence, Italy.

Walking through the doorway into the primary temple was another eerie experience because the doorway was painted with flayed human skins in obvious torture. Inside, there were a dozen monks chanting in the center of the hall and the strong juniper smoke made it very difficult to see. Further, as I worked around the perimeter of the main hall - always in a clockwise direction - I was overcome with the smell of alcohol. The source came from through the small 1-1.5m doorways leading to adjacent rooms which each contained a shrine to a deity. While the Buddhist monks wore masks to avoid breathing the thick fumes of alcohol, the pilgrims left open bottles of alcohol inside as a form of offering.

By the time I finished exploring Nechung Monastery I was completely wiped out. Nevertheless, I was keen on seeing as much of Tibet as possible, and so I walked the remaining four kilometers back into town. En route, I passed half a dozen Tibetan boys swimming stark-naked in a small creek (the water must have been frigid), and I later came across a group of boys playing football in the streets. They were somewhat nervous when I first joined their circle to knock the ball around, but after I started juggling the ball with a huge smile they warmed to me. Fortunately, I know a couple tricks with a football that clearly hadn't been introduced to Tibet, and I am sure in a few days those kids will be performing them better than me.

In the winding hours of the afternoon, I met the two German students, Rafael (23) and Chris (24) for beer and to work out the final details for our overland trip to Nepal. Even though I was only on the roof of a hotel, at five stories up I was able to look out over all of Lhasa.

After confirming our details with a travel agent, I spent a relaxing evening dinner on the roof of my own hostel with the group I have been staying with since Ge'ermu (China). Oddly enough, one of my companions is a 72 year old woman named Gertrud who lived in southern Germany until she married an American soldier after WWII – this is identical to the story of my own grandmother, Gertrud.

Video of the day: printing scriptures, the old fashion way.