Yearning for Yesterday: On to Tibet

This is the second installment of my story for the May Thursday Doors Writing Challenge, hosted by Dan Antion over at No Facilities blog. Photo taken by Robbie Cheadle

Part 2

The next day, Thea flew to Lhasa, the capital of Tibet. Upon exiting the plane, her feet felt like lead as she trudged up the walkway to the concourse. It was as if gravity worked harder in this place to secure her to the ground so she would not fall off the earth. Upon clearing customs, she stepped outside Lhasa Gonggar Airport to find a young man with dark slicked back hair, wearing a blue sweat suit, holding a placard that read, “Welcome to Tibet, Thea!”

“Thea?” he asked, with a broad smile, showing perfect teeth.

She veered toward the man. “Yes, that’s me.”

“I am Akar, and I will be your guide while you are in Lhasa.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said, worrying she would not be given the chance to look around for the door below the Potala Palace.

How will I find it?

She sighed, hopefully without Akar noticing. She would simply need to trust that it would work out. They boarded a van with “Tibetan Cultural Tours” printed on the side. The driver turned and waved in greeting. Leaning her head against the window, Thea watched the landscape unfold as Akar explained what she was seeing.

“That is the Himalayas as I’m sure you have guessed.” Pointing to mountains in the distances, he said, “Those are the Gonggar Mountains.”

Her heart raced at the majesty of what she saw. The road twisted and turned. Though she was increasingly feeling unwell, Thea asked the driver to stop from time to time so she could take photos.

A shimmering river flowed along beside the road, reflecting the mountains and the trees. “That is the Yarlung Tsangpo River,” Akar said, with a proud note to his voice.

The hour-long winding journey into Lhasa city was extraordinary. The majestic mountains, the lush forests, the gurgling streams, rushing river, and the thin yet crisp fresh air. But by the time they arrived at her hostel, Thea was not feeling well at all.

**

Once she passed through the front door, a pleasant looking plump woman circled from behind a counter.

“Welcome to Tibet! I am Dolma, the owner of this place, and I will help you in any—” The woman stopped and looked closer at Thea. “Are you all right? You don’t look well.”

Thea answered, “I am fine.” Even though she was not.

Akar said, “You rest. I leave you in good hands.” He looked at Dolma. “Let me know when she is ready to go out.”

Dolma nodded. She checked Thea in and helped her up the stairs. Thea fought against the pull of her feet to the floor. She was beginning to wonder if she should have spent more time in Chengdu to manage the ascent. The owner opened the door to her room, and Thea tumbled into bed.

“You need to lay horizontal for your elevation sickness. I will bring you something to drink.” Dolma left and returned with a bottle of water. “Please let me know if you need me. I will check on you from time to time. If you do not improve, you will need to be taken to a lower elevation and quickly.”

Dolma reminded Thea of her mother. She drank a glass of water, but it came right back up. She missed home and being taken care of when she was sick. Returning to her bed, she lay on her back and closed her eyes as the room spun. When the dizziness passed, her mind began to wander back to the night before her father’s last day, to the worst fight they had ever had.

Her father had called her into the living room. Sitting together on the couch, he said, “You need to get out more and not stay in your room. You are too isolated. When I was in the army—”

She cut him off. “I know, dad, you went places, met people, had experiences,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

“I just want to see you happy. I don’t know how long—”

Thea had cut him off again. “You just don’t understand, dad,” she whined, storming from the room.

That was the last time she saw her father alive. He died that night in his sleep. She never had the chance to apologize, to listen to his words of wisdom, to hear his voice.

Whimpering into her damp pillow, made wet by her tears, she said, “Dad, I saw pandas.”

**

Thea spent the remainder of the day emptying her stomach or lying flat on the bed. “It is worth the risk and the trouble. I must find the Door,” she declared in the dark.

Throughout the night, Dolma checked on her. It was the longest night Thea could remember. The sun rose, and so did Thea. She felt relief that she had made it through. As she carefully descended the stairs from her room, her legs made weak by being sick, she caught a glimpse of a man in jeans and a sweatshirt with salt and pepper hair. He had his arm across Akar’s shoulders, and he seemed to be leading the guide from the hotel.

Was that Elior?

While deep in thought, Dolma appeared in front of her. “Would you like some breakfast?” she asked.

Thea’s stomach growled in response, and the woman laughed. “I think that means, yes.”

She followed Dolma to a small dining room. Dolma left her at a table where she enjoyed a bowl of barley porridge and cup of yak butter tea. When she was finished, Thea found Dolma standing behind the small counter.

Glancing around for Akar, Thea asked, “Why do I need a guide?”

The woman said, “In recent times, it is required for all foreigners visiting Tibet to have a guide. It has been told to us that it is to ensure your safety.” She paused and glanced around. “It is to make sure certain places are not visited without proper context.”

“Ah, I see,” Thea said.

Dolma said brightly yet quietly, “But today is different. You have a few hours, until lunch, where you will be permitted to wander alone. You will not be bothered.” She lowered her voice even more. Thea leaned closer. “Be discreet.”

The woman told Thea that she should stroll to Barkhor Street which was close to the hostel.

“It will help you get your mountain legs,” the woman said, patting her on the back and leading her to the back door of the hostel. “Do you have all you need.”

“Yes, I think so. Thank you and see you for lunch,” Thea said, shouldering her bag.

**

Once outside, a chill breeze refreshed her. Thea inhaled the scent of juniper and incense. Following Dolma’s instructions, she easily found Barkhor Street. It was a large open square and bustling marketplace, crowded with foreigners and Tibetans. Colorful prayer flags fluttered in the wind. People shopped or worshipped at the Jokhang Temple. As she circled the square, keeping to the outskirts, a young monk wearing a maroon robe and a pair of sunglasses, strumming a mandolin, walked up to her.

“Hi, my name is Tenzin. My English not so good, but welcome to Tibet,” he said enthusiastically.

“Thank you,” she said. “I’m Thea.”

Shaking his head, as if he already knew, he said, “Let us walk together. I will show you around.”

There was something unusual about him. She could not put her finger on it, but she trusted him. As they strolled around the square, he played his mandolin, stopping to answer her many questions.

“What is that? What are they doing? What food are they eating?”

At the far side of the square, Thea bought several peaches from an elderly woman wearing a light blue apron and a bright smile. She gave four pieces of fruit to the young man, ate one, then packed the others away for later. Inside her bag, her fingers brushed against the photo. She pulled it out, and Tenzin looked over her shoulder.

“I know that door,” he said.

Thea’s heart fluttered with excitement. “You do?”

“It is below the Potala Palace, in the secret parts. I have been down in those tunnels before. How do you have that picture?”

Thea considered for a few seconds, then decided she would tell him everything. She started at the beginning.

“I am sorry about your father.”

 “Thanks. Then a man told me of the Door of Echoes.” She filled him in on her journey up until that point.

He lit up with excitement. “Let’s go!”

Tenzin swiveled the strap of his mandolin, shifting the instrument to his back, and hurried away. She ran after him.

**

They boarded a bus and traveled across the city to the palace. She was struck dumb when it came into view, perched on top of Red Hill, overlooking the city. Thea had read all about it online, but she never imagined the magnificence of the towering palace.

“It was a love gift,” Tenzin said, staring out the window along with Thea and grinning widely. “Long time ago, King Songtsen Gambo gave Princess Wencheng the palace as a wedding present.”

“Ah. That is impressive.” Thea found it difficult to look away from the white and ochre walls, which seemed to glow under the strong Tibetan sun.

Once they arrived, they stepped off the bus onto the square. She wobbled off the last step as dizziness shivered through her from either craning her neck to look up at the palace or from adjusting to the elevation. Her breath was uneven as the weight of her quest settled.

“You okay?” Tenzin asked, frowning.

“I will be. Let us find the door from the photo.”

They followed the masses of people who circled the palace in a clockwise direction, spinning their prayer wheels, and murmuring mantras. When they reached the back of the palace, Tenzin led Thea through a barely noticeable door. The monk motioned for her to follow as he sped ahead through winding corridors. She felt out of breath but kept up with him. The air grew heavy with the scent of incense. The ancient stone walls felt cool to touch. Ancient paintings and tapestries hung on the walls. She wanted to stop and admire it all.

How am I here? It seems too far-fetched.

Time passed until they stopped in front of a doorway, covered by a tattered tapestry depicting an ancient battle. An elder monk stood to the side. His eyes were sharp yet kind. His smile grew as he made eye contact with Tenzin who led the man a short distance away. They whispered together. The elder monk looked at Thea strangely.

Admiration?

Tenzin returned. “We can go in,” he said in a hushed tone.

**

Tenzin slid the heavy tapestry aside, revealing a narrow stone staircase that spiraled downward into semi-darkness. She hesitated but then followed him as she felt an undeniable pull. The only sound was their soft footfalls against the stone stairs worn by time. Torches in sconces on the wall lit their way. Each step took them deeper into the unseen heart of the Potala Palace. Tenzin glanced back from time to time. The torches flickered as they passed, casting distorted shadows. The descent felt endless, but excitement pressed her on.

They finally arrived at the bottom of the stairs. Without stopping, they turned down a damp and dimly-lit tunnel. Ancient doors stood on both sides, each with their own personality. Tenzin stopped abruptly in front of the door with the faded Tibetan symbols burned into the doorframe. She recognized some of the symbols from doing her research beforehand. Tenzin placed his palm on one symbol after another in a kind of rhythm. When he stepped back, a loud click echoed along the tunnel. With significant effort, he pushed open the door. Stale air seeped from the opening.

“Few have entered here,” he murmured in a different sort of voice.

She ignored the change in his tone and entered the chamber. The room smelled of age. There were shelves of scrolls and ancient relics that lay undisturbed. She was not sure what she was looking for, but she also knew in her gut that she would recognize it once she found it. Thea’s breath caught when a humming sound drew her attention to an unframed map made of animal skin, secured at its four corners to the wall at the far end of the room. It was as if it were singing for her to notice.

“That has to be it,” she reverently whispered.

Thea aimed the flashlight at the image burned into the skin. To her surprise, it was of Greece and an “χ” marked Athens.

She leaned in, her eyes narrowing on fine print at the map’s edge. The words were faint, yet legible. She whispered, “Continue to the Acropolis and find the door that fits the key. Your quest has been deemed worthy. Persevere and follow the path. The Door that moves shall reveal itself in time.”

Thea laughed in delight. “Oompa! My next step is Athens, Greece of all places.”

She turned to face Tenzin, but the young monk was not there. She ran to the door and glanced up and down the tunnel.

“Tenzin?” she half whispered, half shouted.

He was nowhere in sight. Thea returned to the map, feeling uneasy by Tenzin’s absence. She read again, “…find the door that fits the key.”

What does that mean? What key?

Immediately after asking herself the question, she noticed a raised area below the “χ” on the map. She gently rubbed the spot and felt something unusual. With careful precision, she removed the map from the wall and flipped it over. Thea easily removed a key that had been secured with thread to the back and held it in her palm. There was a carved image of an owl at the top of an ancient looking key. It trembled in her hand. Carefully, she placed it in her bag and rolled up the map.

She struggled with the weight of the door, moving it inch by inch until it was closed. As she made her way back to the staircase, a shadow from a side tunnel sent a shiver down her spine.

“Tenzin?”

When there was no reply, she hastened her pace. Fear sent her up the stairs quicker than she had descended, sometimes taking two steps at a time. She glanced over her shoulder. Arriving at the top, she waved to the elder monk standing there, on the other side of the heavy tapestry. He returned her wave with a large grin.

**

It took some time and a few wrong turns, but Thea found her way out of the palace and on to a bus heading back to Barkhor Street square. From there, she easily found her way to the hostel. When she entered through the back door, Dolma was waiting for her.

“Lunch?” she asked in a chipper voice.

“I’ll take my things to my room first then join you.”

She especially wanted to secure the map in her backpack. She left the key in her bag and kept the bag with her, just in case. Inside her room, she took a moment to catch her breath before joining the other guests and Dolma in the dining room. The meal consisted of delicious dumplings and noodles.

Needing a distraction from her harrowing exodus from the palace, Thea asked Dolma, “What are these called.” She lifted a dumpling to take another bite.

“Those are called momos, filled with vegetables and yak meat. The noodles are special Tibetan noodles, not like the Chinese kind,” the woman said with a little bit of a sneer on her face. “The noodle dish is called laping. Be careful, it is spicey.”

Thea had not realized how hungry she was until she started to eat. The others around the table were eating and chatting with each other.

Akar approached the table with a wide grin. “How are you feeling, Thea?”

“I feel much better.”

“Are you ready to go see Lhasa?”

“Um, yes,” she said, giving Dolma a side-eyed glance. “But first can you help me book tickets?”

“Are you leaving so soon?”

“Yes, I need to cut my stay short.”

**

Thea followed Akar to his office nearby. “What is the fastest, and cheapest, way to travel to Athens, Greece.”

Akar’s eyebrows rose. “That is a far distance. I think you should take a train to Beijing and then fly to Athens from there. The train trip will take around a day and a half. I can help you make reservations.”

Akar made Thea’s reservations. “There is a special deal for the soft sleeper. It is much more comfortable than the hard sleeper and of course the hard seat.”

It was all costly, but Thea was doing okay money-wise. She had an extra day, so she asked Akar to show her Lhasa. They strolled around Barkhor Street square and visited the Jokhang Temple, bought peaches from the same lady in a light blue apron, bought a beautiful wool scarf in the market for her mother, and sat to watch the Tibetan people, in their traditional colorful chuba robes, as they went about their lives.

I wish you could see me, dad. Maybe you can.

As evening fell, the golden glow of lanterns flickered on the square. Shop owners closed up for the night. Pilgrims continued their slow, rhythmic steps around the temple. Tibetans gathered at the central fountain, their voices rising in song, accompanied by the hum of traditional instruments. Thea watched in fascination as some played the six-stringed lute. Akar told her it was called a dramyin. Some blew into gyaling, a long narrow reed instrument with a high-pitched sound, while others beat the damaru drums. Thea watched out for Tenzin, almost expecting to see him stroll across the square strumming his mandolin. She was saddened that she would never see him again.

**

When breakfast was over, Akar drove Thea to the train station. Dolma joined them.

Before saying goodbye, Dolma handed Thea a small silk purse with a delicate latch. “This is from Tenzin. He stopped by the hostel this morning and left it for you.”

She undid the latch and let the purse’s contents slide into her palm. Thea was speechless as she stared at a silver bracelet with a tiny mandolin charm hanging from it.

“He said to add more charms to it from the places you go.”

“It’s beautiful,” Thea whispered.

Dolma gently fastened the bracelet around Thea’s wrist. The woman then pressed a canvas bag into Thea’s hands.

“For your travels,” she said, warmly.

Inside, Thea found two Cup Noodles, chopsticks, a sturdy lidded mug, and tea leaves wrapped in cloth.

As Thea continued rummaging, Dolma said, “There is also some sweet khapse biscuits, dried yak meat, and yak milk candy. All things we enjoy eating while traveling.”

Thea hugged the woman tight. “Thank you for everything!”

“Best wishes on your trip and your journey.” Dolma’s eyes were warm and filled with knowing. “Ka-lee-shuk.”

When the others left, Thea stood on the platform. Before boarding the train to Beijing, she took a minute to stand still and take it all in—the Tibetans in traditional dress, the monks in maroon robes, the big sky, and the Himalya mountains watching over it all. She knew Tibet would be a place that remained with her, long after she left. Thea tapped her pocket in reassurance that the owl key was still there. She took a slow breath and stepped onto the train. She could almost hear her father’s voice, feel his presence waiting beyond the Door. Greece was calling.

~~

Thank you for stopping by and reading Part 2 of my story! If you would like to read Part 1, click here.

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