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Between Realism and Fiction , Dege - Western Kham

Dege,  Western  Kham,  Border  with  Tibetstrong these people must be, living year in
year out in such remoteness. No medical
Long before the sun rises we are up. Behindfacilities, totally dependent on Tibetan
the mountains it begins to dawn, we areTraditional Healing, easier in the summer
engulfed  by  the  beauty  of  the  morning.months, unimaginable in winter when ice and
snow  cover  the  mountains.
The night had been noisy, with Tibetan lemurs
rummaging overhead in the double woodenA two and half hour ride on horseback, she
ceiling, sleeping was difficult. Where weimmediately sets off to return back to her
sleep, kitchen, hall and bedroom in one, thehome. Astonishing endurance, strength, people
typical Tibetan house. Throughout the night Ihere are robust like no other. I encounter
carried a flashlight to spot the noisy littlethe first Edelweiss on my trip, it makes me
creatures who were after the Chambar, the ryeforget the strain on my body, for too long I
flour  stored in the kitchen in a wooden box.was out of practice since leaving my home
country. Recalling my Military training,
The breakfast is painstakingly prepared withHauptmann Lukesch, and the 50 Miles we
Chambar, salted tea and yak butter, yakmarched in Alpine regions, I think back and
cheese, mingled in a cup and bare fingers.realize  how  time  has  passed  so  quickly.
The hospitality of the Tibetan people has no
equivalent, we are honored guests in theirHere in this region I find a variety of
house, and dare not to refuse theirplants, wild fruits, Gooseberries, wild
persuasive  welcome.Strawberries, Raspberries in deep red growing
nearby. Reminding me of my youth and the
Red Tibetan furniture all around us, woodenAlpine world I grew up with, where we would
tables, an open kitchen furnace, we sit onroam in the meadows after school, using the
our bed eating and drinking the saltedmountains as a playground, once again I see
Lapsang, planning for the day. We will ascendreflections of my early days appearing with
to the mountains staying overnight , whereevery  step  I  climb  these  trails.
wolves and bears still roam freely. As a
result, every Tibetan carries a dagger,We zigzag along the rocky paths, it takes all
richly decorated with Silver and gemstones,my strength for its steepness. The higher we
according  to  his  social  standing.reach the more spectacular the views, the
more you feel yourself free. Only a
A car takes us to the school where Mr. Chen'smountaineer can understand this feeling,
wife is teaching Tibetan kids, in a scenicperhaps I felt a similar sensation the night
settlement 30 miles outside the city of Dege.I  found  myself  in  Beyla,  Guinea.
We visit the school, its basic facilities and
see only smiling, curious faces. Horses wereThe serpentine paths become more steep,
called in the day before to carry me to thewalking dangerously close near to cliffs I
mountain, an almost impossible thought torealize I made a good choice not to move on
bear. The means of communication is by wordhorseback. Not being a good rider it would
to mouth, as no transport other than by foothave been too risky, a reckless idea I
or horse can reach to this remote parts incontemplate.
4000  m  altitude.
Well into the afternoon, long overdue we
We start our ascent at 0900 AM and thereach the first house on a long stretch of
breathtaking beauty of the valley immediatelygreen, rye growing up in this altitude of
takes me into a trance. My guide's pace is4000 meters. We set of at 3000 meters, but
fast, difficult to follow pace, I grasp forthe ascent was so strenuous it took me 8
air in such high altitude. Alpine meadows onhours to climb. Here in the mountains
our way, tall yellow and purple cowslipseveryone knows each other, so our arrival had
along the trails, in the mountain meadowsbeen heralded and we are invited to the first
make me remember my own heritage. So similardwelling  we  see.
is the vegetation here, I almost forget I am
8000 Miles from home in a far away location.Sitting in the dark kitchen with only basic
amenities, the lady of the house and her
The trail is steep, the first plateau reachedgrandson invites me with the same hospitality
we stare at the mountains around us, theI am so used to since coming to these parts.
valley below, fields of rye in golden yellow.All I take is some fresh mountain spring
The main route to Chamda and to Lhasa, a 5water, trying hard to recover from the climb.
days journey by car. So vast are the
distances here, one needs to shut off hisOne can not describe the condition of this
sensing of time entirely for the duration ofdwelling place, were it not to hurt the
this journey. Time has no meaning, we aregenuine people's feelings. All they have is
only temporary on this Earth.. Tibetan wisdomthis, and this is their life. The rye gives
comes  in  many  shapes.them food throughout the year, and represents
their staple diet. All houses in Tibetan
The stream we now try to cross is coveringtradition are built of raw timber, logs of
the trail over hundreds of meters and weFir and are painted with a red mixture that
attempt to jump from stone to stone withcontains yak butter. The yak butter helps to
limited success. Ice cold fresh mountainpreserve the logs for a long period of time.
spring water, a definite substitute to theWhen entering these parts one immediately
bottled water in PET packing. Prayer flagsnotices this phenomena without realizing the
with diverse colors line the places where thedeeper  meaning  of  it.
water is deep, marking the auspiciousness of
the location. Mountains and cliffs toweringI dread to climb further up and really push
over our heads as we progress into the highmyself to reach the last 300 meters where the
altitude dwelling place of my guide'sgrandfather is anxiously awaiting us. We can
grandparents. Eagles cry, circling above insee the house further up the mountain and can
the  clear  blue  sky,  looking  for  prey.see the grandfather standing and looking
towards  us.
An hour into the walk we meet our horses,
sent to take us on horseback to ourThe last stretch lasts forever and I take a
destination. I chose not to ride and pack ourrest every now and then, grasping for air.
luggage on the horseback, a white mare.When we finally reach, I feel totally
Noticing the rider's pregnancy I wonder howexhausted.



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