Xiahe, July 18-20

The bus ride from Lanzhou was really interesting, because the first couple of hours we drove through mostly Muslim areas - I have never seen so many mosques in my life, every village seemed to have at least two. Often they are a mixture of Chinese and oriental architecture - for example a six-corner pagoda, made from wood beams with typical chinese patterns, topped by a large golden dome with the half-moon. The further south we got, the more we saw Tibetan Buddhist temples (recognizable by their prayer flags).

Xiahe, a tiny town consisting of only one muddy street inhabited by Han at the eastern end, Tibetans at the western end and Muslim Hui in the middle, is home to the Labrang monastery - one of the six major monasteries of the Yellow Hat sect (only two are outside Tibet). It was founded in 1709 and housed 4,000 monks during its prime time. During the cultural Revolution they suffered some setbacks, but were able to preserve a lot of their temples. Today, they teach Buddhist Philosophy, Medicine and other fields at six colleges. Right now they have about 1,200 monks living there. Pilgrims walk the "kora" - the pilgrim's path around the monastery - from dawn till dusk and keep turning prayer wheels. One can visit the inside, but only with a guided tour and no pictures allowed - except for the Yak butter sculpture museum -

and yes, that's just as weird as it sounds. Yak butter is also used as fuel for lamps throughout all the temples, which makes for a rather interesting smell, and as a condiment for tea, bread and pretty much anything else it seems (my theory is that it also serves as body lotion, which would explain the smell of people).

The town has a very strange vibe to it. The - without exception - crappy looking hotels are all booked out, the main street is bustling with monks in red robes and Tibetans (starring cowboy hats and large knives), a lot of them pilgrims. I don't feel any of the friendly "vibe" the Lonely Planet talks about. The men are extremely rude in staring, as far as just sitting next to me in a tea house and trying to read what I am writing on a postcard or typing on the laptop. Everyone - Han, Hui or Tibetan - is trying to rip us of, trying to sell us water for 5RMB (normal price 2RMB) or not giving me any change at the bus station in the hope I wouldn't be able to read the bus ticket (I even suspect the man in the post office!) Maybe I'm failing to grasp the Tibetan Romanticism that seems to have struck all the other western tourists here, who walk around with glowing faces and buy cheap silver jewelery. This place could be really nice, it's nestled between mountains (we're at 3,000m here) and today there is a beautiful clear sky and crisp air (quite cold after Dunhuang). But all the garbage piles on the side of the street and the fact that there is construction going on everywhere - the last two items seem to describe almost ever town in China - spoils it quite a bit. Right now the main street is torn open left and right, possibly to lay sewage pipes (the rest of the village obviously does not have a sewage system, there's only a ditch on the side of the road and everyone - man, woman, pig - just pees on the street). I can already see how this place will become another Disneyland type Eldorado in a few years. But frankly, I fail to see the charme in small towns that have never undergone any "beautification" - at least in China. I hate myself for saying that, but the average Chinese village seems to be an unattractive heap of dirt and garbage (piled on the side of the street and set on fire from time to time). Maybe I'm just conditioned to Europe's "small town romanticism" - I failed to find Newfoundland pretty just as well - but I can be charmed by small Italian or French villages that have nothing special to offer apart from a pretty setting. But China fails to charm me... I guess I'm having quite a downer after two weeks on the road. Maybe I need a break.

Special food - everything made of yak, from yak meat over yak milk and yoghurt to yak butter (which is also put in tea and tastes slightly salty). Tsampa - a porridge of roasted barley. Rice with sugar in yak milk (tastes kinda buttery). A "cake" made from yak butter and wheat flour with red beans(?), which is more like cookie dough, didn't seem baked at all. Supposedly there's momo - boiled dumplings, but what we had was rather steamed, and most certainly not fresh. The Tibetan diet seems almost veggie-free, I'm dying for somehting green and leafy. It's all very dry and starchy, mixed with milk or yoghurt (which is really good, I admit).