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In July 2007, I alighted at Lhasa Airport for the first time in four years ready for my last visit to Tibet. The main destination on this visit was to west Tibet, an area known as “the ultimate unexplored region,” and the border area of China, India and Nepal.
I have put together a record of photographs I risked my life to take along my route to a vast, eternal land that holds the secrets of “nature,” “civilization,” and “religion.”
There is a reason why more than four years have elapsed since my last visit to Tibet.
I set out on my third trip to Tibet three years ago. On my way to Chomolungma along paths that could hardly be called paths, where a car can easily get flat tires, the car in which I was traveling suddenly turned over. Seriously injured and knocked unconscious, I hovered between life and death for three days.
Following this, although I narrowly escaped death, I was hospitalized for a whole year with no choice.
Nevertheless, this experience gave me an understanding of the “significance of life,” the “importance of passing time” and the “value of friendship.”
Friends who rushed to my side from all over the world gave me invaluable courage simply by being there for me.
As I lay in my hospital bed, I vowed that “I would visit Tibet again to repay this debt of gratitude.”
Although my visits to Tibet began with the intention of photographing the “origins of Chinese culture,” I met with a serious accident during my third visit and this gave me the idea that I wanted to photograph the life that is the very “breath” of Tibet on my next visit. This realization came to me because of my accident that gave me a very real, physical understanding of the “significance of life.”
After several shooting of the area around Lhasa, I immediately set out for one of my destinations of this trip, “Chomolungma,” the world’s highest peak.
During the summer months, Chomolungma is veiled in thick mists and it is said that the peak seldom reveals itself even to visitors staying for seven to ten days. I was scheduled to be staying in the area for only three days.During the summer months, Chomolungma is veiled in thick mists and it is said that the peak seldom reveals itself even to visitors staying for seven to ten days. I was scheduled to be staying in the area for only three days.
“I wonder if Chomolungma will show itself to me …”
I arrived in Tingli, a town near Chomolungma, at three o’clock in the afternoon. Right away, I loaded my oxygen tank in a 4WD car and headed up to a point 5,200m above sea level.
Thankfully, the weather was clear. Chomolungma towering sublimely amidst the seemingly endless Himalayan mountain range appeared before my eyes.
Chomolungma whose roots go back thousands of years remained silent, but the overwhelming energy that flowed from its soul penetrated me to the depths of my being.
Early to mid-morning and evening to sunset are the best times to shoot Chomolungma. The sun is too bright during daylight hours for photography. Here, you are as close to the sky as you can be.
That was why I started photographing Chomolungma from 5 o’clock every morning during my three-day sojourn. I then rested up in the car during the brighter hours of the day and resumed photographing from the afternoon until the sunset, so that I was able to get in ten hours of photography a day.
While waiting for the rigtht moment for pressing the shutter, I spent my time facing up to Chomolungma. Confronting this sublime mountain, the words of the Chinese Confucian scholar Mencius came to mind: “All men have ‘innate goodness’ at birth.” It felt as if Chomolungma was giving me the words to think.
I passed near the border region as I traveled further west and arrived in the Ali region of West Tibet, an area known as “the Roof of the Roof of the World,” located at more than 4,500m above sea level.
My purpose in coming here was to photograph the “Zanda Earthen Forest,” known as the greatest of all mysteries, and the enigmatic “Guge Kingdom Ruins.”
The “Earthen Forest” used to be part of the ocean.
During mountain-making movements in the Himalayas, the sea level dropped and, a gorge was formed in which countless massive “earthen pillars” stand in line after many years of exposure to rain and wind. It was truly a natural work of art.
I climbed to a high point from which one can see the whole earthen forest and gazed out over this mysterious panorama stretching before my eyes.
It was as if I were an alien standing on an unknown planet! Such were the imaginings that went through my mind as I looked out over this vast ocean of the endless earthen forest. As I continued to stare at this spectacle, I felt how tiny the existence of an individual truly is.
As I stood there, I sent out e-mails from my mobile phone to let all those friends and acquaintances to whom I owed so much to let them know that I had arrived safely. Such was the feeling of gratitude that welled up inside me that I felt that I absolutely had to send out these missives.
Blue expresses mystery, while red brings out warmth.
I always think of these two colors whenever I take photographs and I did so on this occasion too. I photographed the earthen forest both as it took on a bluish appearance against the sky of dawn and a reddish tint at the sunset because the two colors of “red” and “blue” imbued the scene with completely different feelings of fascination and impact.
As I photographed the earthen forest that reminded me so much of the arduous path we walk during our lives, and I felt as if I had been granted an understanding of how important it is to live life to the full, no matter comes our way.
This gave me an even deeper appreciation of the Earth that nurtures our lives.
Going further west along the area where the earthen forest stretches brings you to the “Guge Kingdom Ruins” that seem to shimmer in the sunlight. The Guge Kingdom that spanned the period from the tenth to the seventeenth centuries in glorious splendor abruptly collapsed around the middle of the seventeenth century, leaving behind it anecdotes of the sudden disappearance of several hundreds of thousands of its citizens.
However, the complete absence of documented records of the Guge Kingdom leaves the truth shrouded in mystery. This place truly remains the mysteries of culture, history and the nature.
As one descends from the royal palace at the peak, one finds more than 300 rooms that give the appearance of a massive beehive toward the foot of the mountain.
With the cooperation of the Tibet Photography Association, I was allowed to enter the interior of the Guge Kingdom Ruins, a privilege said to be normally extended only to researchers.
With two cameras and a tripod over my shoulder, I climbed up the single path that leads to the peak. As I walked, I was beset by a gradually-intensifying headache. However, I had already almost died once and if I had indeed been reborn for the purpose of taking these photographs, then I couldn’t afford the luxury of hesitation now.
As I photographed the Guge Kingdom Ruins, an old Chinese proverb to the effect that “good fortune always follows a major catastrophe” was buzzing around at the back of my mind and I felt that this truly reflected my situation.
After all, after surviving a major accident three years ago, there I was in Tibet again, photographing the legendary Guge Kingdom Ruins.
In my case, though, this is not down simply to good luck, but to the efforts of all those people who have helped and supported me and made it possible for me to come to Tibet again, for which I am truly grateful.
Before setting off on this visit to Tibet, I wrote my last will and testament for my family, friends and acquaintances. Although I left a message that the will was to be opened in the event of something happening to me, happily, there was no reason to do so.
As I brought my visit to Tibet to a close, I took a photograph of the will I had written murmuring “I’m home” to myself. Feelings of the joy of living and relief welled up in me.
Looking back, I feel that this fourth visit to Tibet, counting the last time when I regretfully had to turn back, has taught me both the value and challenge of making the life that one has been given complete.
The people of Tibet lead their lives to the full, even in the midst of cruel nature.
Thank Tibet for turning my view of life around 180 degrees.
I would like to take this opportunity to express gratitude to the China Photographers Association, the Tibet Photography Association, the staffs of the Bureau of Cultural Relics and the Bureau of Culture and finally, all those who extended their support during my visit to Tibet.
On a final note, I would like to express my thanks to all those readers who have waited with patience for this third update (Conclusion).
Feng, Xue-Min
