The trance of the Snow Mountain

Part 5

Vithoon Pungprasert

The Nation

 We trekked up the Hongla Snow Mountain in the Tibetan Plateau today, hoping to cover 200 kilometres on our way to Ch'ang Tu in southeastern Tibet. The road was covered with snow and ice. Despite the strong sunshine, an icy wind kept blowing.

 At 4,200 metres above sea level the mountain seemed the most inhospitable place, with its harsh, freezing conditions. To our surprise, we came across various kinds of expensive herbal plants growing in the hills.

 The views were stunning too, and that's why our hearts were beating quickly in an ecstatic thump.

Later, on some parts of the mountain, there were immense expanses of greenery, with herds of yak grazing the grasslands dotted with pockets of snow.

 We found many evergreen perennials growing in the pine forest. We later found out that Tibetans collected pine branches to use in rituals worshipping the guardian spirit of the forest.

 Seeing the prayer flags, you realise the strength of the people's faith in nature and their respect for it.

At this altitude it was hard to believe that the mountain was home to a breed of rats that could weigh up to 20 kilograms.

 Soon we began to feel the enervating effects of the altitude and high pressure. The Tibetans are more acclimated to the thin air because they're raised at high altitude.

 The thin oxygen over time has a progressively debilitating effect, and in critical cases can cause illness and death. Some of us had bloodshot eyes and started displaying strange behaviour.

 Our cameraman, Pipop Panichpak, suddenly seemed terribly busy, flitting about mumbling or pacing up and down a dirt track. Later he admitted that he'd no idea what had happened to him.

 At times it felt like we were in a trance in such a conducive climate. The locals pointed out that, up here, we were close to God, and that's why we were all in a good mood.

 But the people who had been monitoring our progress were extremely concerned about our safety.

I was thinking that, if we could make it a bit farther, we'd probably get to meet God ourselves somewhere on the plateau.

  Then the journey took us to a mountain rising 5,000 metres, near a town called Pang Ta. The trail led westward to Lhasa and north to Ch'ang Tu.

 The melting snow of this mountain flowed into three great rivers of Asia: the Yangtze, the Lancang and the Salween.

 Standing up there, I felt the strong sunshine and the freezing wind. What interested me was how the snow was melting away and forming the headwaters of the rivers.

 These were the rivers of humanity flowing in parallel. One drop of water turned into the Yangtze, another the Lancang, and yet another the Salween, creating different civilisations, cultures and ways of life.

  Right here, we knew we were close to the headwaters of the Lancang. We kept going north to find its source.

 At last we reached Ch'ang Tu, where two rivers converge to form the Lancang. Seeing the Lancang here, I couldn't help thinking of Paknam Po in Nakhon Sawan, where two rivers come together just like this to form the Chao Phya.

 But here you could see that one river was clear, the other quite muddy. So the locals called the Lancang the two-coloured river.

 Before I got here, I'd thought Ch'ang Tu was just a lifeless, desolate outpost covered with snow, but we discovered that it's quite a modern city with high-rise buildings and brand-name products.

 It's just like any other city where you can get whatever you want. Surrounded by mountains, with the Lancang cutting through its heart, Ch'ang Tu is Tibet's second commercial hub. In the fields are greenhouses, herds of yak and farms. On the city streets you see local girls dressed fashionably.

 The TV series "Mekong … the Untamed" is on Channel 9 every Monday at 10.15pm.