Would you like Yak with that?

The good thing about starting off a vacation with a trip to the hospital is that things can only get better. Since I spent Saturday resting and not eating good food, I was ready for Sunday to start. In the morning we went to the grocery store and stocked up on more candy and bought sunglasses. I'm not a sunglasses person, but the sun here is so bright, it seems like Lhasa is constantly overexposed by about 2 stops. For lunch we went to the Potala Restaurant, where we ordered us our first authentic Tibetan meal.

Tibetan cuisine is not, as the Chinese would say, "fengfu duocai," or 'rich and varied.' Their diet consists of meat (mostly Yak), potatoes, and bread, any of which can be served alone or combined, and all of which are frequently fried. Now, given the location and climate of Tibet, the utter lack of vegetables, fruits and pretty much anything else should not come as a surprise. It tastes nothing like Chinese food, and actualy, it's really good.

First we ordered these curried potatoes.



They were cooked just right; not mushy and overcooked, not firm and undercooked, and seeped with spices and oil.

Next was what I like to call, Hunk of Yak.



Because that's what it is. A huge fatty hunk of tender, subtly spiced Yak served with a heaping side of small, red baked potatoes.



And then, the piece de resistance, we had what we fondly call, "Xizang xinzang bing rolls." 'Xizang' is Chinese for Tibet, and 'xinzang bing' is heart disease. Therefore, we called these, "Tibetan Heart Disease Rolls."

Because that's what they are. Bread pockets stuffed with Yak meat and then deep fried and served with a side of spicy red pepper sauce. I can still feel them clogging my arteries. And I ate three of them. Yes, I am disgusting.

We also sampled the Tibetan specialty of Yak Butter Tea. Pretty much tastes how it sounds. Buttery tea, sometimes sweetened, sometimes not, and therefore, salty.

Then we went out shopping. Yes! The stores here are stocked with my kinds of stuff- tons of cool jewelry and bags and clothes. I bought some pretty earrings. The thing is, I'm a little bit of a quality snob. I would rather pay a little more for things that aren't total crap. The streets are filled with vendors stalls selling "antique" Tibetan goods. Yeah, I'd say they're about as antique as a newly minted quarter, which is about what they're worth.



The streets of Tibet are not like those of any other Chinese (Tibet is, good or bad, *technically* a part of China) city that I have been to. Here, there's a lot less spitting in the streets. Note that I did not say "no" spitting in the streets; it still exists, sadly. Here, people whistle at each other to get another's attention. In general, the streets are just quieter. There's a lot less shouting, and since there are fewer people, a lot less shoving.

Another sad thing is that there are beggars everywhere. A lot of them are monks and even more of them are children. When we walk by, parents instruct their children to beg from us. And then the kids come up to us, grab on to us, follow us pleadingly with their hands out asking, in English, for money. They follow us and they don't leave us alone; it gets to the point that we have to shoo them away like flies. It's heartbreaking. It's not the kid's fault that their parents don't have money and rely on their children to turn pity into profit, but what are we supposed to do? Annetta refuses to give them money because the kids will give it to their parents, and she doesn't like that. So instead we came up with another solution. We put a bunch of the candy that we bought and don't really like into a bag. Annetta carries the bag around in her purse and gives the kids a piece of candy instead of money. It still doesn't make the kids stop pestering us for money, but at least it's nicer than shooing a person away.

Monday we decided to see Lhasa. We had a cab take us to the Potala Palace. Here I am in front of it:



Then we started walking with no particular plan. That's my favorite part of being in a new place, just walking around, seeing what the place is like, and forming my own mental map. It's like a game; I love trying to get us back to where we started.

We came across these lovely Yak statues. Notice how the sense of Tibetan authenticity is heightened by the advertisement.



A little later we came to an intersection. When faced with the choices of "left, right, or straight," Jason said, "Look at all those people coming from the left. Let's see what's down there."



Good call Jason. What we ended up finding was a back alley, a place for locals. There were some small shops, carts selling produce, and not a single waiguo ren to be seen. How come my travel book didn't mention this place? It's a damn good thing it doesn't though, otherwise the place would be crawling with waiguo ren.

Tucked away in this back street was a store that sells traditional Tibetan dresses. There are stores near our hotel that sell the same thing, and Annetta and I had agreed that we both wanted to buy one. We figured that this was the best place to buy them; not only would they likely be cheaper, but also, it's where the locals get their dresses and, in my opinion, it makes for a better story behind the dress.

So we three waiguo ren walked into the dress shop and started looking. The shopkeeper didn't speak a word of English-- a good sign! She found someone who spoke Mandarin and from then on, it was chaos.



Annetta and I created quite the spectacle. We were just trying on the dresses, but tons of locals stopped by to look and laugh at us, and in a few cases, some women stopped in to offer their opinions as to which colors we should be matching and how we should wear the clothes. The shopkeeper informed us that we were the second waiguo ren ever to set foot in her store. A proud day for non-waiguo-ren waiguo ren everywhere! While it was awkward to be so blatantly gawked at, it was also a blast, and we got our tops, dresses, and skirt fronts for 230 Yuan. At the stores by our hotels, they go for 400-500 Yuan.

New dresses in hand, we walked down the street and found an outdoor temple, where dozens of people were praying. People pray there so ofthen that the stone ground where they lay down is worn smooth and shiny.





Part of the temple area was a path along the side of a mountain. Walking that path was the first time I felt that I was truly in Tibet. Hundreds if not thousands of lines of Tibetan prayer flags were strung up the mountain and along the path.







I love that, while the natural climate of Tibet is sparse and brown and bare, their culture and their religion utilize so many bright colors.





After that we ended up in the Chinese section of Lhasa, which basically looks, feels, and probably tastes like every other standard Chinese city in China. There were only Chinese restaurants. We walked through but made a point of not eating there. We went in search of authentic Tibetan food and ended up at a restaurant that my book recommended. Unfortunately, it wasn't that good (maybe because they don't use MSG) and left us very unsatisfied. They even served us a Yak curry on one of the same trays that we have in our cafeteria.

After a brief rest, we ventured to the Muslim quarter of Lhasa. It was great-- another virtually-waiguo-ren-free district! The streets were narrow and quiet but bustling with residents. There were tons of small stores, open pool halls, and really small bakeries (once again, it's your choice between meat, potatoes, or bread fried to varying degrees). Since we're all eating buddies and list eating among our top two passions, we caved and bought some bread from a bakery.



It was alright but not spectacular. We kept walking throught the streets, which reminded me a little of the movie "The Battle of Algiers." Though this movie does not, surprisingly, take place in Lhasa, I felt a little like I was in the streets of Algiers from the film. The buildings were similarly constructed and close together. So sue me, I got some Algiers in Tibet.

We also found a street vendor selling these yellow-bready-cakey things that we saw another vendor selling on our first day here. When we saw them that first day, we said, "We definitely have to buy some of those." And look at that, we stumbled upon a vendor whipping up a fresh batch.



So we stood by for about 15 minutes just so we could take one of the fresh ones.



We decided that they're the equivalent of corn bread, except not really. They're basically some honey, flour, and milk battered together and poured into pans heavily, heavily lined in oil. Their firm-ish on the outside and soft and chewy and mushy on the inside. They taste a little sweet, a little sour, and have a fruity aftertaste, though I can't pin the fruit. Maybe Lychee. I think it's from the honey.

Then, though we had just eaten two types of bread, we set off with the distinct purpose of eating Muslim food. You would think that, in the Muslim quarter, a Muslim restaurant would be relatively easy to find. Not really. Most of them are tea houses that don't serve food. We walked into a couple and got some very strange looks. Finally, we found this restaurant:



Once again, no waiguo ren! It was great. We asked the waiter for special Muslim food, and he recommended this chicken.



Fantastic. It was chicken, potatoes, and peppers stewed up in a slightly sweet slightly salty sauce. The potatoes were the highlight of the dish, since they soaked up lots of flavor and oil. The chicken was served with handmade flat noodles. I don't usually do noodles but I ate these.

We also got a lovely eggplant dish:



And this. It's fantastic. It's potato, meat, and spices cooked once or twice in lots and lots of oil.



Spectacular. Truly heavenly.

As with all our other meals, we ate way, way, way too much. every day, I've probably eaten the caloric equivalent of at least five meals. I feel guilty, but I feel fantastic. Nothing like eating my way around Lhasa. But what's more, there's nothing like eating my way around Lhasa with two people who love eating as much as I do. Every night, after stuffing ourselves full of edible Tibetan wonders, we come back to the room, eat tons of candy, and play cards. Every day is an adventure.

Today was an even bigger one, but I've already been updating for an hour and a half. I'll save today for tomorrow.