Langmusi, Gansu
Trip Start
Feb 01, 2004
1
24
29
Trip End
Feb 01, 2008
Langmusi, Sichuanby Tom Carter
Murmuring an unbroken stream of prayers, and focused intently on a scarlet
and silver monastery bathed in morning light and incense smoke, four Tibetan
women fell to their hands and knees in succession. They laid face down before
standing up to clasp their hands in prayer for their three hundredth prostrate
atop the snow-dusted hilltop on the Sichuan side of Langmusi.
But the solemn chants of these devout Buddhists soon dissolved into the
self-conscious giggles of young girls upon sensing the presence of a foreigner.
Using the moment as an entertaining respite from their prayers, they beckoned to
see the pictures I had just taken of them, the site of themselves on my digital
camera bringing even louder laughter.
Located at an altitude of some 3,000 meters in the mountains of western
China, and literally straddling the Gansu-Sichuan border, the rustic,
plank-rooftop settlement of Langmusi, and the two glittering Buddhist temples of
which the town architecturally and spiritually orbits, is one of those places
that can best be described as heavenly.
Gansu itself is one of China's most dramatically varying regions both
topographically and culturally, extending in a long, narrow arch from the
mountain-sized sand dunes of Dunhuang in the northern Hexi corridor to the
verdant Ganjia grasslands in the provincial interior.
South of the Muslim metropolises of Langzhou and Lingxia, gleaming mosques
become sub-bleached stupas and the white-capped Hui people relinquish the
landscape to prismatic Tibetans spinning prayer wheels beneath the surreal blue
sky, living up to its provincial sobriquet, "Little Lhasa."
Following their morning prayers, the three pretty sisters and their mother,
each regally draped in heavy, black cloaks and adorned with layers of florescent
orange coral necklaces and hefty belts of silver, invited me back to their home.
It wasn't their real home, they explained, but temporary living quarters.
Like so many of the Sichuanese-Tibetans who comprise the town's nomadic
population, they were completing their pilgrimage to the Langmusi and Labuleng
monasteries in nearby Xiahe before making their way back home to northern
Sichuan.
Nestled within a small community of shanties, their humble clay dwelling was
no larger than the sleeper cabin of a train and housed this family of six.
Keeping the fire burning, preparing lunch and babysitting his baby granddaughter
when we arrived, was the patriarch of the family.
His own three daughters ranged in age from 16 to 25 and received only basic
schooling, preferring to raise families and follow their parents on their
spiritual pilgrimages. Income, most which was spent on such journeys, is earned
by the father and the elder sister's husband, who breed horses in the Sichuan
highlands.
I asked the father and mother to which Tibetan ethnolinguistic category they
belonged (i.e. Aba, Chabao-Jiarong, Zhugqu), but the father admitted he didn't
know; he was, he said, simply Tibetan. Indeed, such classifications are made by
a government on the other side of the country, not Tibetans themselves.
For Tibetans, family and faith, not politics and ethnic divisions, are the
most important aspects of their lives. Unfortunately, only the family's father
and mother have made the arduous and expensive pilgrimage to the holy capital
city of Lhasa in the Tibet Autonomous Region, a journey that takes many
Sichuanese- Tibetans years to save for, lest they must beg on the streets for
alms to make their way west. But the three sisters are saving their jiao and
listened in awe as I told of my own extensive travels the previous year across
Tibet.
Promising to send them the family portraits I took, we professed our mutual
thanks and respect and parted ways, they to spend the second half of their day
making 400 koras (spiritual walking circuits) around Langmusi and me to watch,
though now with a better understanding of who I was watching.
Travel Tips / How to get there: From the capital city of Langzhou in Gansu,
buses for Hezuo leave the south bus station every half hour and take
approximately five hours. An overnight stay in Hezuo is necessary as there is
only one bus per day to Langmusi, departing at 7 a.m.
Where to stay: There are a growing number of inns and hotels on Langmusi's
only thoroughfare, from ¥20 to ¥150 per night.
What to eat: Leisha's is a favorite with backpackers, boasting massive yak
burgers and homemade apple pie.
Where to play: Pilgrim watching around the Sezhi Monastery on the Sichuan
side or the Geerdeng Monastery on the Gansu side is always fun, along with a
scenic walking trail and fairy caves to explore around the Namo Gorge.
China photographer Tom
Carter is the author of CHINA: Portrait of a People, 888 snapshots of life and
humanity from the 33 provinces of the People's Republic of China, due out this
winter from Hong Kong publisher Blacksmith Books.
This article was originally published in a June 2007 edition of City Weekend magazine.
Murmuring an unbroken stream of prayers, and focused intently on a scarlet
and silver monastery bathed in morning light and incense smoke, four Tibetan
women fell to their hands and knees in succession. They laid face down before
standing up to clasp their hands in prayer for their three hundredth prostrate
atop the snow-dusted hilltop on the Sichuan side of Langmusi.
But the solemn chants of these devout Buddhists soon dissolved into the
self-conscious giggles of young girls upon sensing the presence of a foreigner.
Using the moment as an entertaining respite from their prayers, they beckoned to
see the pictures I had just taken of them, the site of themselves on my digital
camera bringing even louder laughter.
Located at an altitude of some 3,000 meters in the mountains of western
China, and literally straddling the Gansu-Sichuan border, the rustic,
plank-rooftop settlement of Langmusi, and the two glittering Buddhist temples of
which the town architecturally and spiritually orbits, is one of those places
that can best be described as heavenly.
Gansu itself is one of China's most dramatically varying regions both
topographically and culturally, extending in a long, narrow arch from the
mountain-sized sand dunes of Dunhuang in the northern Hexi corridor to the
verdant Ganjia grasslands in the provincial interior.
South of the Muslim metropolises of Langzhou and Lingxia, gleaming mosques
become sub-bleached stupas and the white-capped Hui people relinquish the
landscape to prismatic Tibetans spinning prayer wheels beneath the surreal blue
sky, living up to its provincial sobriquet, "Little Lhasa."
Following their morning prayers, the three pretty sisters and their mother,
each regally draped in heavy, black cloaks and adorned with layers of florescent
orange coral necklaces and hefty belts of silver, invited me back to their home.
It wasn't their real home, they explained, but temporary living quarters.
Like so many of the Sichuanese-Tibetans who comprise the town's nomadic
population, they were completing their pilgrimage to the Langmusi and Labuleng
monasteries in nearby Xiahe before making their way back home to northern
Sichuan.
Nestled within a small community of shanties, their humble clay dwelling was
no larger than the sleeper cabin of a train and housed this family of six.
Keeping the fire burning, preparing lunch and babysitting his baby granddaughter
when we arrived, was the patriarch of the family.
His own three daughters ranged in age from 16 to 25 and received only basic
schooling, preferring to raise families and follow their parents on their
spiritual pilgrimages. Income, most which was spent on such journeys, is earned
by the father and the elder sister's husband, who breed horses in the Sichuan
highlands.
I asked the father and mother to which Tibetan ethnolinguistic category they
belonged (i.e. Aba, Chabao-Jiarong, Zhugqu), but the father admitted he didn't
know; he was, he said, simply Tibetan. Indeed, such classifications are made by
a government on the other side of the country, not Tibetans themselves.
For Tibetans, family and faith, not politics and ethnic divisions, are the
most important aspects of their lives. Unfortunately, only the family's father
and mother have made the arduous and expensive pilgrimage to the holy capital
city of Lhasa in the Tibet Autonomous Region, a journey that takes many
Sichuanese- Tibetans years to save for, lest they must beg on the streets for
alms to make their way west. But the three sisters are saving their jiao and
listened in awe as I told of my own extensive travels the previous year across
Tibet.
Promising to send them the family portraits I took, we professed our mutual
thanks and respect and parted ways, they to spend the second half of their day
making 400 koras (spiritual walking circuits) around Langmusi and me to watch,
though now with a better understanding of who I was watching.
Travel Tips / How to get there: From the capital city of Langzhou in Gansu,
buses for Hezuo leave the south bus station every half hour and take
approximately five hours. An overnight stay in Hezuo is necessary as there is
only one bus per day to Langmusi, departing at 7 a.m.
Where to stay: There are a growing number of inns and hotels on Langmusi's
only thoroughfare, from ¥20 to ¥150 per night.
What to eat: Leisha's is a favorite with backpackers, boasting massive yak
burgers and homemade apple pie.
Where to play: Pilgrim watching around the Sezhi Monastery on the Sichuan
side or the Geerdeng Monastery on the Gansu side is always fun, along with a
scenic walking trail and fairy caves to explore around the Namo Gorge.
China photographer Tom
Carter is the author of CHINA: Portrait of a People, 888 snapshots of life and
humanity from the 33 provinces of the People's Republic of China, due out this
winter from Hong Kong publisher Blacksmith Books.
This article was originally published in a June 2007 edition of City Weekend magazine.


