❝At twenty-nine degrees north latitude, the afternoon entered Lhasa. After arranging the gear in the House Of Shambhala, a family building converted into a small hotel, with all the charm, to which I always return, ate something and left quickly for the Jokhang solo, the holiest of Tibet temples, without a guide this time, before the sky grew even darker.
Done all the koras, the one on the perimeter of the temple and the ones in the little chapels inside, I was extremely lucky, because the first time I saw it years ago, during the festival of the butter lamps, well into December, there was no way to move of the crowd of pilgrims and also tourists who ran inside, the immense luck, he said, yes, that the sanctum sanctorum behind the enormous statues that separate the prayer room from the rest was opened for a group of Chinese Buddhists who were brimming with enthusiasm and alms.
I took photos, but only after seeing how the Chinese peeps went crazy with their mobiles after asking with gestures and smiles for some complicity to the monk who drew back the curtains made of metal links (just like the ones in Swayambhunath in Kathmandu): I didn't I was able to resist, although the low light and some bad conscience (signs here and there reminding us that it is strictly forbidden to do so) made it excessively complicated.
The carambola of some images makes me happy, like this one that I share below. For another occasion the details of the ceremony in which we all participated: the monks, the Chinese, some Tibetans who had come and me unexpectedly●