Tibetan Marches

Now finished what turned out to be an engaging book by André Migot mentioned at the end of reference 1. Perhaps helped by the fact that it was translated by Peter Fleming, himself a traveler and travel writer, so perhaps well placed to get into the spirit of the thing. From around 1948.

With the Tibetan Marches of the title being a throw back to travel in that short period between the era of explorers and the era of backpackers, when anyone who was reasonably fit and who could rub along could get him or herself to all kinds of interesting places, places which were only lightly seasoned with Europeans, in this case mostly Catholic missionaries. Although Migot was not exactly anyone, being able both to read and speak Tibetan and with an active interest in the Tibetan form of Buddhism.

Perhaps being in Indo-China at that time meant that it was easier for French colonialists to get themselves to the borders of Tibet (Tibet proper being something of a forbidden zone) than it was for British colonialists from what was then India and Burma. This being why I can remember once buying, from a stationer in seaside France, one of those lurid comic books that they go in for there, which was largely set in this very area, with lots of strange temples perched on the edge of precipices.

In any event, the main impression of this book is certainly one of the oddness, at least at that time, of Tibet. I was reminded of Ireland; a large, poor and backward country perched on the edge of a larger and more powerful country, a country which in least in this case had the excuse of a large and porous western boundary, on the far side of which there were all kinds of bad people, all too ready for a bit of smash and grab. Not just greed.

Odd in that they practiced a rather exotic form of Buddhism and concentrated a large chunk of their wealth (such as it was) and manpower in monasteries, the pervasive lamaseries. Engaging in that they were a gentle, fun loving lot who were very welcoming to strangers, particularly ones who had bothered to learn their language.

I read about the power of the word in Buddhism, rather more than the power suggested at the beginning of our St. John's gospel (in the beginning was the word, and so on), with Buddhists going beyond believing that saying good words did good in the world, to believe that the movement of written words on prayer wheels did good, even if the movement was imparted, as it often was, by wind or water power. Furthermore, the professionals, that is to say the llamas, took solitude, quiet and meditation very seriously, and I think it was this which attracted Migot. Who was also, suggestively to my mind, a mountain climber.

Odd in that their lamaseries, which might contain thousands of monks, were often ruled by living Buddhas, living Buddhas who were often children. There is something not quite right to my mind about entrusting the government of a large and important organisation to a deified child. An arrangement which is likely to lead to all kinds of bad things.

Odd in a different way in that there were no wheels in Tibet. To get a cart you had to pop over the border into China. Perhaps this was down to the state of the roads in this rather hilly country.

And in that their diet appeared to include little if anything in the way of fresh vegetables. There was no mention of scurvy (or any other dietary diseases for that matter) in the book, so perhaps they got all the vitamins that they needed from milk and butter.

The author came away with a good impression of the Chinese communists, who struck him, with their serious devotion to pulling their country out of the mire, compared very well with the brutal and corrupt nationalists, who had fallen far away from the founding ideals of Sun Yat-sen. I observe in passing that the Chinese communists were, at this stage in the civil war, buying the support of the peasants, as the Russian communists had before them, by redistributing the land, albeit, as it turned out, on rather a temporary basis. There was no doubt in this writer's mind about who was going to win the war. I associate this morning to the ousting of Batista - another leader who started off with good intentions - by the once-loved Castro.

Amazon France offer a selection of other writings by this chap, some with colour pictures, so perhaps I shall indulge.

PS 1: an opium note. A lot of the carrying business in China, unlike in England or in Tibet, was carried on by strings of coolies carrying what would be, by western standards. outrageous loads on rather rough paths and tracks. The coolies could only cope with it all in the expectation of their regular pipe of opium in the evening. The one pleasure in their otherwise rather miserable life.

PS 2: google maps has heard of Koko Nor, the slightly salty lake at the top middle of the map above, but not to the extent of streetview. On the other hand, google images can do plenty, images which live well up to the lake's name, the blue lake. The lake itself did not when Migot visited it, it being a grey and dreary day (p247).

Reference 1: http://psmv2.blogspot.co.uk/2015/07/wisley-1.html.