Hapy family

I’d been lucky as far as the weather goes so far. But today my luck ran out. It was rainy, and it was cold, making for a miserable day. It was really cold; you could see your breath. Even though I’ve been at high elevations for much of this trip, it has never been this cold.

I canceled my plans to walk up the big hill behind the town, and hung out in my room, taking full advantage of the electric blanket, the only source of heat available. Nothing is heated here, and the restaurants are all open to the cold air. They provide all the hot tea you can drink, which helps a little.

After a delicious lunch of fried vegetables in a tasty sauce cooked by a friendly Chinese man, the rain mostly stopped, so I walked through the Tibetan part of town towards the monastery. The children were all on their way home from school, and they all said “hello” and some said “welcome to Litang.”

When I reached the monastery, an expansive complex, the rain started again. The place was mobbed by Chinese tourists. It never fails to amaze me how group tourists, of any nationality, never venture from the sites. They all missed out on the nice walk through the Tibetan town. Of course they had a nice warm, dry bus to take them back to their hotels, while I had to walk back in the rain.

Inside the monastery

Since it was so difficult to get here, I was worried about getting away. Especially since the town doesn’t have a proper bus station, making the prospect of buying a ticket difficult if you don’t speak Chinese. As I was contemplating my dilemma, there was a knock at my door. A German backpacker couple, probably the only other foreigners in town, had been trying for two days to get tickets, but there aren’t any. So they are looking for people to share the cost of a van to the next town. What luck! No more worries about getting out of here.

My initial reaction to this town was dislike, but it has grown on me. The surroundings are beautiful, and the people are fascinating. Walking down the street is like watching cowboys and nomads. They’re as interested in me as I am in them, and they will stop and stare, which can be a little annoying if I’m eating. But even doing mundane tasks is interesting. While grocery shopping a family of nomads came in to stock up on supplies, and while doing laundry a couple of curious monks wandered in to watch (men don’t do laundry here).

The food is excellent too. A little Sichuan restaurant across the street makes the best sweet and sour pork I’ve ever had, and an amazing chili chicken. I’m afraid I will be ruined for Chinese food now, as the Chinese restaurants back home aren’t as good.