by Denis Belliveau and Francis O’Donnell
We came down out of the hills and into a picturesque valley where in the distance a golden roof glittered in the late-day sun. As we approached the lamasery, a complex of exquisite buildings rose out of the terra-cotta soil. They were painted white with wooden beams exposed and trapezoidal windows painted black, contrasting beautifully. They were all crowned with golden stupas, befitting their status as among the holiest temples in Tibetan Buddhism.
After the bus came to its final halt we clambered out into the road and started walking in the direction of a group of colorfully dressed women. Unable to keep our eyes off their crazy fox and silken hats; robes with lynx and snow leopard trimmings; and chunky silver, turquoise, and amber necklaces, we nearly stumbled over another group lying facedown in the middle of the lane.
The figures slowly rose up, their faces covered in dust, their yellow eyes and moist lips jumping out at—and into you—like that old film footage of Bob Dylan onstage in whiteface singing “Tangled Up in Blue.” They took a big step forward, bringing their hands together in prayer above their heads, then slowly down to their chests. Dropping to heavily padded knees they lay facedown in the road again, kissing the dirt and extending their arms straight in front of them. Some clutched wooden hand protectors as they went.
We passed more Tibetan pilgrims fully prostrating themselves this way, in a self-enforced march of pain, encircling the monastery dozens of times. Spinning their prayer wheels and mumbling prayers, they wound their way around the temple complex on bloodied hands and knees. The scent of smoldering juniper branches rose from inside secret chambers as they passed the temples, each circuit bringing good karma and blessings for the New Year. And the New Year was why they had come. From all over Tibet they were flooding in to Xiahe and the Labrang Lamaser y, for the lunar calendar was drawing to an end and the Monlam Cham, or Great Prayer Festival, was about to begin.
On the day of the Cham we arrived in the main courtyard early, positioning ourselves up front. Only one bouncer monk gave us a hard time until he saw our passes and we were able to move around the circle chalked into the dirt for the dancers. Thousands of pilgrims jammed the square, quiet and well behaved as the bouncers walked among them with large sticks ready to whack the heads of any rowdies. We sat on the frozen ground for hours until midday, when a procession of monks in bright orange robes came through the center door way. The head lama took his seat on a balcony overlooking the courtyard. Seated to his right was a young living Buddha. The musicians came and took their places. Giant horns were propped up with cutout dragons and drums painted with evil faces were banged in unison.
A flock of monks, wearing giant yellow crescent hats, entered with a clash of cymbals, followed by throat singers moaning their deep hypnotic chants. A curtain opened and the boy monks came running out in skeleton costumes to perform ancient steps in a ritualistic dance.
Next an assortment of ferociously masked dancers in green, red, blue, and yellow—zoomorphic creatures with bulging bloodshot eyes, large grotesque noses, and fang-covered lips—danced along the chalked-out lines that enclosed their universe. Benevolent spirits in demonic disguise, they had to be scarier than the evil they chased away.
A priest in silk gowns embroidered with dragons and geometric designs entered the center of the ring and spilled blood from a cup made from the top of a human cranium. Four skull-masked monks representing the four directions pushed dirt over the dark-stained earth and retreated to their corners. The priest opened an orange box and removed a bloody knife. The masked spirits began again to encircle the priest, moving in rhythm to the music and striking fearful poses when the drums, horns, and cymbals reached a crescendo. The priest made secret gestures with dorje (scepter) and knife, symbols of power and divinity.
The Cham went on like this for hours, the crowd mumbling their prayers and kneading their prayer beads behind us. We sat mesmerized, in awe of the spectacle in front of us, ringside seats to a forbidden rite. Cham is not a form of entertainment. It is a spiritual practice that the dancer undertakes as a meditation
in order to liberate other beings from suffering. It is considered very sacred and is thought to bring good luck to those who view it. Pilgrims attend the day-long dance ceremonies, believing in the power of the dance to remove obstacles and bestow blessings upon them. Not unlike the stained-glassed windows of Europe’s Gothic cathedrals, the brightly colored masks and costumes assist ordinary people to envision that which they hold sacred, intensifying their religious experience.
It was during these times that I made a conscious effort to burn the scene into my mind: the snow-dusted hills covered with pilgrims behind the lamasery, the other worldly sounds of the throat singers and horns, the smell of the oily smoke from the burning juniper branches. The photos I took are a record, and just that. These memories are the souvenirs we’ll keep forever.
All photographs © Denis Belliveau. All rights reserved.
Wonderful presentation and exciting trip. Reminds me of my travels to
Greenland, Pakistan, Turkey, Greece, Japan, China, Italy, Panama, etc.
Loved the PBS presentation and your so personal photography, just like I
am taking pictures.
My best to you and hope some day we meet in NY. I live in CT.
Paul
I saw your documentary last night on Channel 13 and loved it!
In 1980 I spent one year traveling through Europe and can relate to your desire to travel, sense of adventure and sadness when it suddenly ends.
I did not travel through war-ravaged countries as you did, nevertheless my trip certainly was a life-changing experience so I can’t even begin to imagine how your trip affected your life afterwards. What a fantastic, rewarding experience you have portrayed.It was most interesting to see the images of remote towns and villages which Americans do not have access to.
Anyway, thanks for sharing your amazing journey! Happy Travels!
You did it! Congratulations on a venture that most wish for, but you both went out and did. The film is a great documentary. I enjoyed your honestly and down to earth interaction. The most appealing feature was your straightforward (lack of hype) story telling and how you found the common people, and out of the way places, so attractive. There’s a whole world out there waiting for anyone brave enough to go see it and you both brought that world into our living rooms. Thank YOU!
Hey guys, we add our names to the list of people that loved this. I particularly loved how you pointed out the fact that you weren’t from a museum, or a university or scholars.. it makes us feel like we can do it to. Why don’t you do a 12 program series on the whole thing – I’m sure you have enough footage for it! Are you doing any talks or slide presentations. Thanks again.
More! More! We want more writing! These posts add a wonderful complement to the film- I’ll order the book & video soon
Magnificent. Hurculean. Awe-inspiring. Bravo indeed.
Thank you, Thank you, Thank you. Just watched your remarkable program on WYCC in Chicago. Given all your hardship, the part that makes me proudest of you guys is discerning, as you remarked, don’t believe your state department, (with respect to their best intents) there are great people everywhere. And I love hearing those east coast accents and specifically humor in the remotest reaches of the globe.
In the long isolated and wind swept plateau of Tibet lies an enchanted valley, protected from the outside world for centuries by some of the highest mountian passes on earth. It is the kind of place that has inspired the myths and legends surrounding Shangri-la.
The snows of time cover the origins of much of tibetan ritual belief, but it was in the third century A.D. that Buddhism started it’s climb into tibet and met and mixed with Bon, a religion of animism which embues all things with mystical worth and majesty. Those long passed beginnings gave birth to the Losar Monlam Cham festival of today!
I was lucky enough to get to meet you at the Green Acres assembly today. I am always inspired by individuals who travel so freely and get to know the people of the world… REALLY get to know them and not just get to know the resorts of the world. Thank you for sharing your journey with our kids and I will be sure to watch the whole footage as soon as I get a solid 2 hours to sit down relax to really enjoy the rest of the movie. I hope I run into you two again some day, if not, thanks again and (as my keychain says), “travel prayerfully carefully”.
You guys came to my school two days ago, and I have to say that you were undoubtedly the best speakers we’ve ever had. My class/school first were introduced to you by the movie on this site, but to see you both in person made the experience all the more real. Sure, after seeing the film I was moved by the intensity and length of the journey, but to be able to sit down and listen to you discuss these experiences just made everything more real. When you talked to us, you mentioned how your first movie was more focused on Marco Polo, while this one focuses more on you two. Although I do not doubt the merit of discussing the legendary merchant in detail, your story is powerful in its own right, even when removed from its ancient predecessor. Every time someone mentions Marco Polo from now on, I will be reminded immediately of your journey, simply because I am so awed by it. To hear you two talk was truly a privledge, and I hope that other schools allow their students to have that same opportunity.
On Dec 14th 09 Denis’ talk at the New York Public Library was very inspiring. Oddly, on TV that evening was the movie “Lost Horizon”. I thought how weird, it was so attuned to what Denis had just said about their adventure – Marco Polo surely inspired that story. They will definitely succeed in their new book and film ventures, because they bring such a beautiful spirit to what they do.