Listen Up

Looking for Kerosine for your camping stove in Lhasa? Take notes below, and try out this tongue twisting conversation that I had with a shopowner the other day:

Me: you mei you mei you?

Him: mei you? mei you mei you.

Me: Hmmm, na'er you?

Him: Hmmm, na'er you.

(Translation: I want kerosine. He doesn't have it. But he tells me where to get it.)

Look like mish-mash to you? It would certainly seem so were it not for the crazy little things called tones that you have to add to almost every word in Chinese. Since the word for kerosine and the word to have are homonyms, this makes for a very singsongy, tongue-twisting challenge. (For those interested, the first phrase should be read "you3 mei2 you3 mei2 you2" with number corresponding to these different tones, 2 being a rising tone and 3 being a low falling-rising tone).

It's a hard phenomenon to get used to for those beginning the study of Chinese. Though it grows on you after a while. I'll leave you with one of my favorites: forty four lions eat forty four persimmons. (Si shi si zhi shi zi chi si shi si ge shi zi).

The Alternative...

Coke that tastes like rotten apricots...

Countless mid snuggly night sleep bathroom breaks....

Metallic water sensations....

Severe tingling in your feet at 2:30 AM that wakes you up and continues for an hour....

Ringing in your ears....

Daytime tingling of the feet, hands, lips, forehead, scalp, cheeks.....

And all of these atrocities are suffered in the name of staving off the other ugly alternative of AMS, otherwise known as altitude sickness. I had never given this nasty little condition much thought until I flew from near sea level to Lhasa and proceeded to run around the city to every monastery and walk every kora imaginable in the firs two days I was there. Then the headaches started. And then came nausea, sleeplessness, and fatigue. Now, I'm not one to let any physical illnesses get in the way of my travelling adventures (reference Wilburt the Campylobacter blog), but these seemingly mild symptoms put me in bed for 14 hours and led me to pull out the medical literature and pills my father had sent me for altitude sickness. I popped the acetazolamide pills, and hoped that their magic would work quickly.

And they did. I felt better, and began to have less AMS symptoms. However, after a few days the side effects of this alternative listed above proved to be too symptomatic themselves, and I gave up my altitude meds.

It's been a give-and-take ever since. Balancing how badly I feel due to altitude (and how scared I am that my AMS will develop into HACE - cerebral edema or HAPE - pulmonary edema) with the annoying lifestyle alterations created by these magic pills.

My problems are quicky resolving, though, now that we've left Everest Base Camp. We've thankfully reached the height of our altitude climbing in Tibet, and it's literally all downhill from here.

Altitude?

Altitude?

When they say the word mountain in China, they mean Mountain with a capital M. Set your sights way beyond the heights of the Rockies - these crags around here way taller than anything in the States. And we're trekking up them.

I've been climbing higher than I've ever been before in my life, and I can definitely tell. On a five day trek from Ganden to Samye, Philip and I hauled ourselves (luckily two sturdy yaks were hauling out packs) over passes of 17,220 ft and 16,800 ft. (For comparison, the tallest mountain in the Continental US tops out at 14,500 ft.)

For those of you who haven't been to these heights, let me describe what it feels like to be there, from a lung's point of view:

Lung 1: ....."where's the oxygen, man"

Lung 2: , "I", , "don't know",

Lung 1: "I" "am breathing as hard" "as I can"

Lung 2: "It's just not" "enough"

And despite the coughing, wheezing, gasping, and moaning, I'm having the time of my life. It's amazing, beautiful, and a literal breath of fresh air after months of being stifled by Beijing's pollution.

We're bound for Mount Everest Base Camp tomorrow, where we'll sleep above 17,000 ft and reexperience all of our altitude symptoms anew. I can't wait, and will report back after we leave the

A Fresh Start

A Fresh Start

Every time I think I'm ready to integrate back into the American culture, I find myself once again engaging in activities that, though seem logical to me, might be quite alarming to those of you back in the States. Let's take today:

Today I returned from a six day seriously intense trek over high mountain passes between two of Tibet's largest monasteries. Before embarking on our landcruiser adventure tomorrow, I sought out the laundry service of our hotel to make everyone in our car a bit more comfortable. Upon hearing the ridiculous prices charged by our foreigner's hotel, I followed the advice of friends and washed all of my laundry in the fountain in front of our hotel. Faux pas? I call it ingenuity.

Try that on for size next time you're staying at a Hyatt.