Lhasa 1981

In 1981 Tibet was a unique and remarkable destination for tourists. Journalists were normally barred from the remote region. I joined a Hong Kong group on September 30th for a journey to Lhasa.                 
Armed with a small video camera, we spent ten days on the "roof of  the world" shooting in the region.

Jim Laurie with friends shooting in Tibet in 1981

From Lhasa, I came away with impressions of a very poor but essentially Tibetan city. There seemed to be a large military presence, but Chinese civilians, in a clear minority, tended to stay off the streets. One Chinese resident told me she was afraid to go out at night in Lhasa. Security on he streets was poor.

In 1981 Tibetans far outnumbered the Chinese population. Tibetan nationalist feeling ran high. Resentment was high that the few Han Chinese present held all the responsible jobs and government positions. 

The military presence, which was apparent to any visitor, also engendered bad feelings.

The numbers and dedication of religious pilgrims astounded me. So many thousands, their prayer wheels whirling, walking clockwise around the Jokhang, the most revered Bud dhist structure in Tibet. Others prostrate at the entrance or crawling on all fours, inching their way around the temple. The scent of rancid yak butter, used in cooking, used for candles for worship, permeated everything.

At the base of the city's most imposing structure, the Potala, home of the Dalai Lama's since the mid 17th century, was a crude museum. The museum housed a Chinese constructed exhibit detailing allegations of torture and mis-rule committed over the centuries by the high Lamas and his disciples. The simple message was that Tibetans had things a lot better today under communism than under the autocratic old monks.

It took me awhile to gather impressions in Lhasa.My first two days in Tibet were spent just trying to breath.

I had not counted on the effects of the altitude. The approaches to Lhasa are nearly 14,000 feet high. All the tour books warn of the rarefied air and the need to adjust to the atmosphere. I was clearly too excited to heed the advice.

Upon arrival from Chengdu,I began shooting video at once. The air was so crisp and clear. The drive from the airport so spectacular.

Several hours into my first day ,the reserves of oxygen in my system were depleted.
I raised my camera to focus on an image of Buddha in my viewfinder. Suddenly I dropped to the ground like a rock, somehow putting the camera safely to one side as  I fell splitting open my chin.

Bleeding, writhing on the ground, gasping for breath, I was near total collapse.

My friends struggled to carry me to a tour group jeep. 

With an alarmed look on his face, the tour director sped towards town and the Lhasa People's Hospital.

Within an hour, I was happily sucking oxygen from a rubber tube attached to a large rusting tank. My chin had been stitched up. And I lay in a quiet white-washed room attended by a slightly concerned, slightly amused Chinese nurse.

For two days, I remained at Lhasa People's. The dining was splendid: freshly cooked, steamed dumplings each day. My friends, meanwhile, complained the food available in the state run guesthouse was inedible.

With eight days remaining on my travel permit, I scrambled out of bed and was not bothered again by oxygen deprivation.

Beware of thin air. On future trips to Tibet, I would be prepared.

Lhasa 1997

On October 16th 1997, I returned to Tibet again. 

The changes in Lhasa were profound. While it seemed less impoverished, more modern, it had become far more Chinese. The arrivals of settlers from the east, over the past 15 years had altered the ethnic balance. The Chinese not only ruled, but were reducing Tibetans to a minority in their homeland. 

The same year as this Tibet visit I interviewed the exiled 14th Dalai Lama during his visit to Taiwan.
Kaohsiung on March 23, 1997.

For more on the Dalai Lama