Tibet: Will the Circle Be Unbroken?

Outside the hotel window is a never-ending stream of devotion. This pilgrim procession flows by quickly. Most everyone maintains a brisk pace, as though they were on their way to an appointment. Perhaps they do see their temple circling that way—hurrying to reach a better incarnation? or to more completely understand Buddhism’s great void of blissful freedom?

I stare for longer than I should. A note at the front desk from my aunt, who has arrived in Lhasa two days ahead of me, says to knock on her door as soon as I get there. Yet this scene is difficult to pull away from. After perhaps twenty minutes, the same faces come around again. Do they do this every evening? Have they been here all day? How far have they journeyed to come to this most sacred of Lhasa’s many sacred sites? minutes? days? years?

And what of these prostrators? They do their circuits half vertically, half horizontally. Each “step” begins and ends with the clapping together of upraised hands. To move forward they drop to their knees, stretch out one body length along the path, then stand again. Their chosen way slows their pace, but in exchange perhaps their merit is multiplied proportionally?

So many questions, so many pilgrims, and alas, so many soldiers. The pair on the roof next door—helmeted, sitting sniper style—ultimately convinces me that it’s time to stop being a voyeur and start being a good nephew. What an introduction! What a reunion!