下雨了，拉卜楞寺

这一次在旅途中发现一个奇怪的现象。天气虽然反复，但又很规律似的每隔一天就会是阴天。

算一算这天应该又轮到阴天了。车子在往拉卜楞寺方向开去，我心里一路忐忑。坏天气会严重影响我摄影的兴致，但尽管我如何诚心祈祷，凝重的乌云终于还是陈不住气，第一颗雨滴在还未到达目的地之前降落了。

贴心的导游和司机连忙询问我们是否有携带雨具。答案是“没有”。我们的导游小姐这时侯可急坏了。我感觉在她眼里，我们突然变成一群不懂事的孩子。出门怎么能不带伞，不带雨衣? 于是，好心的司机大哥载着我们这群孩子在小镇上到处兜走，想找一家有卖伞的商店还真难。因为这个镇子实在太小了，问了好多人，找了好几家店，好不容易才买到三套“交通灯”颜色的雨衣。


不赖吧？

从车里窥视下着雨的夏河小镇，人们的日常作息没有因为雨天而瘫痪。小贩一如往常在街上贩卖柏树叶(藏族人在家门外的炉子焚烧柏树叶作为祭祀之用)，前来购买的人似乎也没有因为雨天而减少(因为本来就少)。僧侣们脚步缓缓，淋着雨不慌不忙的走向寺院。他们也没带伞，可是我不觉得他们不懂事。





雨势不算大，但地面上已经湿嗒嗒，到了那种泥巴会不时沾到鞋子上的地步。就如镇上的人一样，前来朝圣的信徒并不畏惧下雨天，他们仍然绕着拉卜楞寺一路跪拜。这样一来，不只是鞋子，全身上下恐怕都要被泥沙弄脏、被雨水溅湿。但是，他们一幅不以为然的样子，拖着身躯缓慢的继续前进。我听得见从我身旁经过的那位妇人，她即沉重又疲惫的呼吸声。一时之间，我的心情也随着变得沉重了。



我跟在信徒们的后面，有时又急忙走到他们的前面，不断按下相机的快门。也许是我的黄色雨衣太枪眼，或是快门“卡擦”的声音干扰了神圣、庄严的气氛，终于有一位僧人忍不住回头望了我一眼。他投给我一个充满强烈鄙视的目光，我只好懦弱的转身并将镜头移开以表示我的惭愧(在那之前我还是拍了一张, so sorry)。

在我心里，我没有丝毫对这个宗教仪式不敬的想法，拍下这组照片也不纯粹是因为新鲜、稀奇而已。我真真实实的敬佩并崇拜他们对自己的信仰如此虔诚，对自己的身体如此严苛要求。我不禁在想，究竟人类的极限是由什么来牵制的？是大脑还是身体的器官？或者纯粹只靠信念就可以完成非同凡响的伟大事迹？



这时候，天空开始放晴了。我披着包含了导游小姐和司机大哥劳心劳力才购得的塑料雨衣，带着一颗被虔诚信徒感动无比的心，在拉卜楞寺雄伟的身影呵护之下，感受到人和神(还有雨衣)给于我的无限温暖。

Grieving

It is the capricious nature of life that taught me the hardest lessons. Yet after all the years, I am not quite immune to sad events. I have felt an immense sense of loss following the demise of my dear friend's father. That it should happen so abruptly and at the most unexpected time makes it harder to bear.

Not so long ago, I watched the quiet gentleman in deep slumber at the hospital. There was nothing unusual about him on that day, and in fact on all other days when I visited. It was hence easy for me to imagine that he had merely wandered off to dreamland and will some day return. I prayed silently for a miracle each time I stood by his bed. Without contesting where the allegiance of my faith lies, I now know how much my prayers are worth. Close to bankruptcy I guess, for they were rarely answered. On the presumption that prayers would work, I spoke comforting words to my friend but now they only seem just too careless.

Perhaps I need not grief over the inevitable ending of all living beings. But it maybe an inborn tendency in humans to grief over the burden which we all have to carry throughout this journey. I am devoid of means to make things easier for my friend and on myself but I hope this will serve as a closure at least, to that irrevocable sense of loss in me.

On the silk road

In 2 weeks, we set foot on the ancient capital city of Chang'an, traversed across the Gobi desert to Dunhuang, experienced desolation at the western pass of the Great Wall of China in Jiayuguan and then carried on our journey to Xinjiang.

There were beautiful sceneries along the way as always, farmlands, grasslands, mountains, desert... but none could match the extraordinary charms of Tianshan and Tianchi. We saw people of different races and cultures. The Hans, the Tibetans, the Muslims and Uyghurs are mostly kind and generous. We slept on trains, galloped on horses, rode camels, sat on a donkey cart (...and ate some donkey).

Here are some of the places we have been to.


The terracotta army museum.


Iron Bridge over the Yellow River at Lanzhou.


Beautiful scenery outside the window on our 5 hours drive from Lanzhou to Xiahe.


Monks spinning prayer wheels at Labrang Monastry in Xiahe.


Tibetan nomads and their horses in Sangke Prairie.


Riding a horse on Sangke Prairie.


Desolation at Jiayuguan.


Thousand hands Guanyin (千手观音) performance in Dunhuang.


Echoing Sand Dune (鸣沙山) in Dunhuang.


Cresent Lake (月牙泉) in the middle of the desert.


A road through the flaming mountain (火焰山). No sight of Iron Fan Princess.


Muslim prevalence in Turpan.


The Uyghur children loved to be photographed.


Magnificent beauty of Tianshan (天山) and Tianchi(天池). Picture perfect.

Vienna, where the old and new converged

The Austrians have certainly got plenty to brag about to world. From a long list of great classical composers (Mozart, Strauss, Schubert, Haydn...), to the internationally renowned Vienna Boys Choir, and horses that waltz to a Mozart piece... it is cultural, aesthetical, sophisticated and once home to the most famous immigrant, Arnold Schwarzenegger.



It is the same feeling as I had 2 years ago when I walk down the streets of Vienna once again. The serenity and peace are well in agreement with my penchant for quietness. The sound of traffic, noise from machines, the hustling crowd which are familiar sights in most Asian cities are absent from here. The unusual tranquillity is charming and is what I love most about this place.

Vienna is far from being a solemn and boring city. It is urbane and modern amidst its cultural endowment. International boutiques sell leather goods, fine clothings and expensive watches under the roof of buildings that are centuries old. There are a myriad of cafes around Stephenplatz, some of chic elegance, others with a touch of classic royalty. Being in the old school, my favourite is Cafe Demel founded in the 18th century, which was the royal confectioner of the Austrian Hapsburg empire.


A cup of Melange (coffee with milk and foam) at Cafe Demel. An Austrian gentleman once told me that the best thing about the cafe culture in Austria is that coffee is always served with a glass of water and you can sit for hours reading papers without being disturbed.

Vienna, in short is a city where the old and the new converged.


Horse carriage and taxi running alongside each other.


Statue eyeing on McDonalds. She's obviously "Lovin' it" too.


Wallpaper covering the exterior of centuries old Gothic church undergoing restoration. It is bizarre looking I must say, but ingenious at the same time.


"Mozarts" touting at tourists. Sunglasses are fine for the glare but not quite fine with the classic costume.

口不对心

慵懒的星期天午后，
放空心情什么也不去做。
拉上窗帘，唱机里播放着肖邦的小夜曲。
看似很不恰当的情节，
但这里的宁静极度可怕,
环视渺无人烟的周围，
仿佛深夜已提早降临。

想乘着假日回避全世界，
蓦然却感到异常寂寞。
每当寂寞涌上心头，就决心一定要合群。
然而，有一种灵魂天生渴望孤独，
拥挤的空气会消磨它的能量。
仔细看清楚自己，
那只是口不对心而已。