I had been coughing terribly before going back to China, but it was finally under control. I didn't want to remind anybody of the cough, not even myself.
When the plane finally arrived at the Lhasa airport, the first thing that came to my eyes: the medical personnel in white robes standing, motorcycles ready. "Easy, man!" I told myself. Brownish mountains surrounded the airport. No trees, no grass, no life. A new world.
Carefully
stepping down to the earth from the plane, I breathed deeply
many many times. Though chilly, the air was not particularly
different. "No big deal." Quickly shouldering my bags, I walked to
the bus for Lhasa, the capital, 90 kilometers away.
Image: Downtown Lahsa, a bird's view from Potala.
Jumping out of the bus at Lhasa, shouldering the bags again, I suddenly felt dizzy, and was breathing heavily. Knowing that my hotel wasn't far away, I originally planned to walk there. Without a street sign, without anybody to point out my way, without an updated map, and not being able to get rid of the taxi drivers whose hands were literally all over me, I stepped into a tricycle taxi, contending with a rip-off -- and a headache.
Knowing that I wouldn't have much time in Tibet, the first thing I did after arriving the hotel, I went to the bulletin board to look for company. I found Ehud from Israel, whose group planned to go to the Yamdo Tso Lake the next morning. Ehud suggested that I exercise a bit to get used to the altitude. When asked the altitude of the lake, he hesitated: "Well, it should be written in the book, right?" "OK, I will check it out myself." He said that I could give him a firm answer in the evening whether I would go or not, as I was having a headache.
Out
I went into the streets to buy food and water for the trip. In
Tibet, one shouldn't expect to buy food and water outside the cities.
Besides, I left Beijing so hastily that I lacked a lot of things:
toilet paper, soap, map, spoon, and so forth. Dogs, beggars, open
toilets by the street where people turned the back and released, the
flies, the towering mysterious Potala, ... "Tibet, I am finally here.
Good afternoon!"
Image: Potala --- viewed from downtown.
Headache , headache, headache. It followed every step of mine, just as the sun, the white, dry, radiating Tibetan sun above my head. My backpack was gradually filled. So was my head, with pain, or dizziness, as if I were over-starved. I then filled my stomach, only in vain.
Later in the afternoon, I finally had time to read the tour book about the AMS. No preventive medicine, no cure either. It could change one's personality, and become fatal quickly. The only way to cure it: GET OUT ASAP. Every year, foreign tourists die. Advice: rest before moving up. To my relief, headache was only a normal, regular symptom. Throwing up, behavioral change: that would be more severe.
I saw Ehud: "I can't find out the altitude of the Yamdo Tso Lake." He was not hiding it from me this time, "It is 5,700 meters." Two thousand meters higher than Lhasa. "Honestly, a doctor would not recommend that you go tomorrow. But everyone is different." He then told me that they had one girl down as well. So if I couldn't make it myself, they might have to cancel the trip because of the cost. I promised him that I would try my best to make it, and would let him know later. Of course, I also said that I took the responsibility for my own decision.
The headache persisted, as I stuffed myself with delicious Sichuan food again, as I took a hot-water shower, as I forced myself to drink more water than I could, as the sun went down, as my deadline approached. (Water drinking is critical in high altitudes.) Since it didn't seem to get worse, at 9pm, before the deadline, hoping to give them a surprise, I found Ehud. "I am in." They were naturally more than delighted.
Praying
for a good sleep, I went to bed early. The headache, the
headache. It came back. Quietly lying in bed, quietly in the room,
quietly it came back, and so solid that it was trying to crawl out of
my head. Tong, tong, tong. I could hear my heart pounding now.
Without a move, my body was still short of oxygen. I dared not move,
I could not sleep, I was scared ...
Image: Banners typically found at the entrances of Tibetan villages to keep ghosts, demons, and evil spirits away.
Didn't know what hour it was. My watch was too dim. It must be very late, as I could clearly hear dog fights in the street. This was indeed a different world. Lying sleeplessly, I was alone.
My roommates from Hong Kong were deep in sleep, breathing comfortably. They were the real tourists. In Lhasa alone, they had been staying for one week already. They had the time.
"What am I rushing for? Am I not coming here for the vacation?"
More dogs were fighting now.
Headache . Apparently I had fallen asleep, but only for a short while. Half asleep, I wasn't sure if I awakened because of the headache, or if I fell asleep or maybe fainted, also because of the headache. I couldn't take any medicine, which would mask other symptoms. I was helpless, I was desperate ...
Then a nightmare: I was accused by a friend, and found guilty. My professional career was doomed ... "Thank God it is only a dream." I then realized that it was the AMS that caused the nightmare. The blanket over my chest felt heavy as, on top of it, my sweating hands seemed to drag me into the world of the condemned. I didn't want to imagine what would come next.
When I was awake again it was already near 5 am. Realizing that I had finally had a longer sleep, I felt less scared. The headache was still there though. I decided to buy some oxy gen and go for the trip. However, the girl who opened the hotel gate for us said it was too early for the sale. The Israelis, to my surprise, were still willing to let me decide my fate. The girl who was supposed not to go with us was also there (another surprise). I thought they would be mad knowing that I was still hesitating. Biting my lips, I was determined to gamble my life for the sacred lake, without an oxygen bag.
It
was completely dark outside. No moon, no stars, no street light.
Under the dim headlight of our jeep, the dogs were running for their
positions, as if soldiers preparing for a war. Behind the trees, to
my astonishment, were figures of the local Tibetans taking an early
morning rush. They walked silently, and scattered around, here and
there, no flashlight, no match light, no cigarette light. Sitting
beside the driver, I said to myself: "I would never dare to walk in
this street at this hour." It was a death world, a ghost world, a
path to the unknown. We were driving from the dark, in the dark, and
toward the dark. Toward the uncertain, the unknown. I didn't know if
I would ever see the city again or not. [1]
[2] [3]
next page 
index page 
home page