Silk Road (paragraph summaries)

The narrator describes a beautiful morning with a flawless half-moon and pink clouds as they prepare to leave Ravu. Lhamo, a character, decides to give the narrator a farewell gift, a warm sheepskin coat, after learning that the narrator is heading to Mount Kailash. Tsetan, another character, observes the narrator and comments that the coat is typical of the local men, calling them "drokba," meaning nomads.

Tsetan suggests a shortcut to reach Mount Kailash, taking a route that crosses several mountain passes. He assures the narrator that it will be manageable as long as there is no snow, but when asked about the possibility of snow, Tsetan replies that they won’t know until they reach the passes.

the narrator describes traveling through vast, empty plains after leaving Ravu, where they spot gazelles grazing before quickly running away. Later, they see a large herd of wild asses, called "Kyang," which Tsetan had predicted. The herd moves in a coordinated way, kicking up dust as they gallop in tight formations, almost like they are practicing maneuvers.

as the landscape changes with hills rising from the rocky terrain, the narrator describes seeing solitary nomads (drokbas) taking care of their flocks. The nomads, both men and women, observe the passing car, sometimes waving. When the car gets close to their animals, the sheep quickly move away from the vehicle.

the narrator describes passing nomads' tents, each guarded by a large Tibetan mastiff. The dogs notice the approaching vehicle, turn their heads to observe, and then rush toward the car at incredible speed, almost like bullets, as they get closer.

the narrator describes the Tibetan mastiffs as large, fierce dogs with bright red collars. They bark loudly and charge at the vehicle without fear, forcing Tsetan to brake and swerve. After chasing the car for a while, the dogs stop once they've driven it away. The narrator explains how these powerful dogs were once valued in China's imperial courts as hunting dogs and brought along the Silk Road as tribute from Tibet.

The narrator describes seeing snow-capped mountains in the distance as they enter a valley with a wide, mostly frozen river sparkling in the sunlight. The trail follows the river's twists and turns, gradually climbing as the valley narrows. The journey becomes tougher with sharper turns and bumpier rides as the car climbs steep slopes with rocks covered in orange lichen and bits of snow in shaded spots. Feeling the altitude, the narrator clears their ears. Suddenly, Tsetan stops the car and jumps out, followed by Daniel, who announces "Snow" as cold air fills the vehicle.

They encounter a fifteen-meter-long patch of snow blocking the trail, with steep, smooth banks on either side making it impossible to drive around. Tsetan steps onto the snow, testing its stability, while the narrator notes they are at an altitude of 5,210 meters. Daniel explains the real danger is the icy surface, which could cause the car to slip and overturn. To make it safer, Tsetan throws dirt over the snow, and the narrator and Daniel help spread it. They stay out of the car to lighten the load as Tsetan carefully drives across the snow without any trouble.

The journey is interrupted again by another snow blockage. This time, Tsetan decides to drive around it. Despite steep slopes and large rocks, he skillfully maneuvers the four-wheel-drive vehicle through the rough terrain, bypassing the blocked section and rejoining the trail at a higher point where there is no snow.

the narrator notes their altitude reaching 5,400 meters as they continue climbing under bright sunlight. They start experiencing a severe headache, likely due to the high altitude, and try to alleviate it by drinking water, which is believed to help with rapid ascents.

the group reaches the top of the pass at an altitude of 5,515 meters, marked by a cairn decorated with white scarves and prayer flags. Following tradition, they walk clockwise around the cairn. Tsetan checks the vehicle’s tyres and releases pressure from the petrol tank, which hisses loudly due to the lower atmospheric pressure causing the fuel to expand. it seems dangerous to the narrator.

The narrator’s headache goes away as they go down the pass. They stop for lunch at a camp near a dry salt lake and eat hot noodles in a tent. The salt flats are remains of an old ocean. Workers in warm coats and sunglasses dig salt and load it onto blue trucks.

the group reaches the town of Hor by late afternoon, reconnecting with the main highway linking Lhasa to Kashmir. Daniel parts ways with the narrator and Tsetan, catching a ride back to Lhasa. Earlier, their car had suffered two punctures after leaving the salt lake, leaving them with no spare tyres. Tsetan, concerned about safety, heads to a tyre-repair shop to fix the punctures, especially since one of the replacement tyres was completely worn out, humorously compared to the narrator’s bald head.

Hor is a dull, unpleasant town with no plants, just dust, rocks, and trash. This is surprising because it sits by Lake Manasarovar, a very sacred lake in Hindu and Buddhist beliefs. It’s said to be the source of four important rivers, but only one, the Sutlej, actually flows from the lake. The others start near Mount Kailash. The narrator is now close to Mount Kailash and is eager to keep going.

The narrator had to wait while Tsetan dealt with something. He was told to drink tea at Hor’s only café, a poorly built concrete building with three broken windows. Despite the cold air coming in, the view of the lake through one window made up for it.

A young Chinese man in a military uniform served the narrator. Before bringing a glass and a thermos of tea, he used a dirty rag to smear the grease on the table, making it messier.

After half an hour, Tsetan returned, and they left the town, driving past more rocks and trash as they headed west toward Mount Kailash.

The narrator’s experience in Hor was very different from what earlier travelers described. In 1900, a Japanese monk, Ekai Kawaguchi, was so touched by the sacredness of Lake Manasarovar that he cried. A few years later, even Sven Hedin, a Swedish explorer not known for being emotional, was deeply moved by the lake.

By the time they left again, it was dark, and they reached a guest house in Darchen after 10:30 p.m. The narrator had a troubled night, as the cold he caught in Hor worsened. One nostril was blocked, and they worried about getting enough oxygen to breathe. At 4,760 meters, the altitude wasn’t much higher than Ravu, where they had often struggled for air at night. Though they were used to these disturbances, they still found them frightening.

Feeling tired and hungry, the narrator started breathing through his mouth and then switched to breathing through one nostril, which seemed sufficient. Just as he was about to fall asleep, he suddenly woke up with a heavy feeling in his chest. Sitting up cleared his nasal passages and relieved the discomfort, which he found strange and curious.

The narrator lay down again to try to sleep but experienced the same issue. Just as he was about to drift off, he felt an urge to stay awake. It seemed like an instinctive warning, different from before. This time, he wasn’t struggling for breath but felt as though sleep itself was being denied.

Sitting up again instantly made him feel better—he could breathe freely, and his chest felt normal. However, lying down caused his sinuses to block and his chest to feel strange. Even trying to sleep upright didn’t help, as he couldn’t relax. He felt an unexplainable fear, with a voice in his head warning that if he fell asleep, he might not wake up. So, he stayed awake the entire night.

The next morning, Tsetan took the narrator to the Darchen medical college, which looked more like a monastery from the outside, with a solid door leading into a large courtyard. Inside, they found the consulting room, which was dark and cold. The Tibetan doctor, dressed in a thick pullover and woolly hat instead of a white coat, listened to the narrator's symptoms of sleeplessness and fear of lying down. He asked a few questions while checking the narrator's wrist veins.

The doctor finally said, through Tsetan, that it was just a cold and the effects of the altitude. He assured the narrator that he would give him something to help. When the narrator asked if he would recover in time to do the kora, the doctor confidently replied, "Oh yes, you'll be fine."

The narrator left the medical college with a brown envelope containing fifteen packets of Tibetan medicine for a five-day course, which he began immediately. The first package, taken after breakfast, contained a brown powder that tasted like cinnamon. The lunchtime and bedtime packages contained small, round brown pellets that looked like sheep dung, but he took them anyway. After completing the first day of treatment, he slept very well that night—like a log, not a dead man.

Once Tsetan saw that the narrator would survive, he left to return to Lhasa. He jokingly told the narrator that, as a Buddhist, it didn’t really matter if he passed away, but it would be bad for business.

After a good night’s sleep, Darchen seemed better. Despite the dust and rubble, the clear sky and view of the snow-capped Gurla Mandhata mountain made the town look more peaceful.

Darchen had a few basic stores selling essentials like cigarettes and soap, along with prayer flags. In the afternoons, men played pool outside while women washed their hair in a nearby brook. The town felt calm, but for the narrator, the lack of pilgrims was a noticeable downside.

The narrator had been told that during peak pilgrimage season, Darchen was busy with visitors who set up tents around the town, expanding it onto the plain. However, he had arrived too early, just before the season started.

One afternoon, while having tea at Darchen's only café, the narrator reflected on his options and realized they were very limited. It became clear that his self-help program on positive thinking hadn’t made much progress.

The narrator acknowledged that his sleeping issues had made things harder, but he realized that his only option was to wait. Though the pilgrimage trail was well-known, he didn’t want to do it alone. The route was affected by snow, and with no one in Darchen able to answer his questions in English, he wasn’t sure if the snow had cleared.

The narrator's situation changed when he met Norbu. The café was small, dark, and had a long metal stove down the middle. The walls and ceiling were covered in multi-colored striped plastic, similar to the strong shopping bags sold all over China and other countries, making plastic one of China's successful exports along the Silk Road today.

The narrator sat by the café's single window, where he could see his notebook and read a novel to pass the time.

Norbu noticed the narrator's book when he entered and asked to sit opposite him. After ordering tea, he asked, "You English?" The narrator confirmed, and they started a conversation.

The narrator didn’t think Norbu was local, as he wore a windcheater and metal-rimmed glasses in a Western style. Norbu explained he was Tibetan but worked in Beijing at the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences, in the Institute of Ethnic Literature. The narrator assumed he was there for fieldwork.

“Yes and no,” he said. “I have come to do the kora.” My heart jumped. Norbu had been writing academic papers about the Kailash kora and its importance in various works of Buddhist literature for many years, he told me, but he had never actually done it himself.

When the narrator explained why he was in Darchen, Norbu's eyes lit up. He excitedly suggested, "We could be a team—two academics who have escaped from the library." The narrator felt that his positive-thinking strategy might finally be working.

The narrator was initially relieved to meet Norbu, who was also staying at the guest house. However, he soon realized that Norbu was almost as ill-prepared for the pilgrimage as he was. Norbu repeatedly mentioned how out of shape he was and how challenging the high altitude would be. Although he wasn’t a practicing Buddhist, he had enthusiasm and, being Tibetan, a cultural connection to the journey.

Although the narrator had initially imagined doing the trek with devout pilgrims, he came to see Norbu as a suitable companion. Norbu suggested hiring yaks to carry their luggage, which the narrator saw as a positive idea. Norbu also made it clear he wouldn’t be prostrating himself around the mountain, laughing at the thought, citing his size as a reason.