My recent absence from blog writing was due to an extraordinary opportunity that came my way. I was able to spend almost three weeks visiting China and Tibet in July, and will now forever carry the wonders of the journey in my heart. I had initially hoped to be able to blog from afar, but quickly discovered the Chinese government had other ideas. Internet usage was denied to foreigners, and my communications ground to a halt quickly. Even my poor husband was left to ponder my health and wellbeing because I could not get any messages out to him.
What I wanted to mention in today’s blog is the perception of aging. On the tour that preceded my trip, the group of participants rode on horseback to a Tibetan nomad camp and spent the night. Because the nomads had traveled with their yaks much higher up the mountains by time I arrived, I wasn’t able to duplicate the experience, much to my sorrow. I was ready, willing, and able to spend the night in a tent with baby yaks. At any rate, the previous group had arrived in the nomad camp and was hunkering down for the night. I was told that the nomads gazed upon the visitors from the United States and said, “How old are these people? They look really old!” This was of course interpreted from the Tibetan language, and a few variances may have come into play. Nonetheless, the message was clear.
Compare that to my experience—I was visiting a monastery and chatting with a Tibetan nun. My interpreter asked her age, and the nun replied that she was 53. I smiled and told her we were the same age! She looked at me and frowned. She could not believe I was as old as her. Granted, a life in high, sunny, altitudes takes a toll on smooth skin, but her eyes held all the joy and twinkles I share with her at this age. I saw her inner age, she saw my outer appearance. Tibet is a country of contrasts, and I loved every moment. It was fun to discover that, as in the United States, Tibetans find beauty—and age—in the eye of the beholder.
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