| Author |
Message |
shanghaiceltic
Board Royalty
Joined: Sep 20, 2005
Posts: 7617
Location: Perth WA
Status: Offline
|
 Posted:
July 18, 2006 - 07:11 AM |
 
|
| Post subject: Beijing - Lhasa |
This is a good article. With the rail link open I dont think it is neccessarily going to be a good thing for t¡bet. More toursist does not always equal good.
China's 'magical road of heaven'
By Pallavi Aiyar
LHASA - For centuries t¡bet has been the embodiment of an exotic fantasy. A Buddhist Shangri-La, mysterious and remote, locked away within high mountains from the frenetic modernity of the outside world. But as the first train ever pulled up to Lhasa station on July 1 having hurtled across frozen tundra for more than 1,000 kilometers, a new chapter in t¡bet's history began.
The Qinghai-t¡bet Railway has unlocked the gate to the top of the world and unleashed with it a torrent of admiration and criticism. It's the world's longest and highest highland railway, an engineering marvel the Chinese government says will bring about an economic renaissance in a region that has thus far remained poor and underdeveloped. However, critics have raised the alarm
regarding the destructive potential of the railway for t¡bet's pristine environment and unique culture.
The t¡betan government in exile with the da1a¡ 1ama at its helm has also highlighted the increased ease with which troops will now be able to be deployed in t¡bet along with what they say is a political move on the part of Beijing to bring about demographic changes in the area by encouraging an influx of Han Chinese into the region.
The first Beijing-Lhasa Express rolled out of Beijing West Station at 9:30pm on July 1. A standard coach ticket, called a hard seat, sells for 389 yuan (US$4 from Beijing to Lhasa, while the price for hard sleeper or bunk costs 813 yuan and the price for a shared compartment or soft sleeper is 1,262 yuan.
The maximum train speed is expected to reach 100 kilometers per hour in the frozen earth areas and 120 kilometers per hour on non-frozen earth.
On the inaugural run, cameras flashed both inside and outside the train, passengers and onlookers alike hungry to record the moment. The excitement of being part of history in the making bound those on board, and passengers scurried between compartments, striking up conversations, and unusually for normally reticent Chinese, voicing opinions.
"t¡bet can't remain shut off from the world forever," said Li Dan, a 27-year-old student from Jilin University. "It's not healthy for any culture and change is not in itself bad."
But more than any other topic it was the potential for suffering altitude sickness once in t¡bet that first-time tourists seemed to obsess about. Lhasa, the traditional capital of t¡bet and the capital of the t¡bet Autonomous Region of the People's Republic of China, is at 3,600 meters, and much of the route from Golmud in Qinghai province in the northwest onward is more than 4,000 meters above sea level.
Recorded announcements constantly replayed warnings for passengers to contact rail staff if they felt uncomfortable.
The first day of the almost 48-hour trip saw the train wind its way south to Hebei and Shanxi provinces and then west to the home of the Gobi desert in Gansu province. The journey's most stunning scenery, however, was reserved for day two when the Golmud-Lhasa stretch took about 850 passengers through the highest point on the trip: the 5072-meter Tanggula Pass border between t¡bet and Qinghai.
Construction of the 1,142-kilometers Golmud-Lhasa section began June 29, 2001 and cost about about US$23.68 billion.
The pass is part of the formidable Kunlun range of mountains, long considered impenetrable. The range forms the northern flank of a huge area of permafrost that stretches for hundreds of kilometers across the t¡betan plateau toward the Himalayas. Above the permafrost is a layer of ice that melts and refreezes daily with the rising and setting of the sun. Laying railroads through such terrain was thought to be impossible until China took up the challenge five years ago.
Chinese engineers solved the problem by developing a technique that enabled them to permanently freeze the top level of ice and prevent it from its daily pattern of melting and refreezing. Coolants are pumped into the earth ensuring that the ground near tunnels and pillars remains frozen.
There has been some international skepticism regarding the sustainability of this solution, and some have even predicted that the railroad will collapse within 10 years. Chinese authorities, however, maintain confident in their technology.
"The Qinghai-t¡bet railway is the realization of a 100-year-old Chinese dream," said an announcement on the train's public address system. The mood on board was consequently self-congratulatory. "We Chinese can achieve anything," a China Central Television (CCTV) journalist boasted.
It took more than 100,000 workers to lay the rail tracks and complete other construction since work on the railway started in 2001. The altitudes at which they had to work were so high that crew members often had to be outfitted with extra oxygen supplies strapped to their backs. Zhu Zhengsheng, vice director of the Ministry of Railways, called it a "a miracle" no one died of altitude sickness during construction.
From Golmud extra oxygen is pumped into the train, and attendants demonstrate the use of special oxygen sockets situated throughout the carriages.
Through the window the visceral beauty of the landscape packed an almost physical punch. There was a collective gasp as 50 t¡betan antelope or chiru ran alongside the railway tracks for a few minutes. Wild donkeys and horses could be spotted in the distance and the hulking shapes of yaks were framed dramatically by snow-capped mountains.
The train passed through the grasslands of Kekexili, a 45,000-square-kilometer area at the foot of the Kunlun range, the natural habitat of the t¡betan antelope. To protect these endangered animals from potential railway-related accidents, 33 wildlife "passageways", mostly trestle bridges, have been incorporated into the railway's design at key points along the route where the antelope are believed to cross during their seasonal migration to grazing grounds. In all some $192 million has been earmarked by the government for environmental-protection projects along the route.
Nearing Lhasa, Chinese flags were firmly affixed atop every home, even those of humble herdsmen. The red and yellow flags made a strong statement of sovereignty, leaving little room for ambiguity.
The minutes before the on-time arrival in Lhasa at 9:00pm on July 3 were hectic. Chinese tourists seeking souvenirs of the trip made a mad dash through the carriage trying to collect every passenger's autograph. Passengers walked off the train into a spanking new white station - the first to arrive in t¡bet from Beijing by train. Official estimates say that by next year as many as 4,000 people daily will arrive by rail in Lhasa.
The first glimpse of the city, driving in from the train station, was of a tower atop a hill. The bus then turned a corner and the white and ochre splendor of the pοta⌊a Palace, once the home of the da1a¡ 1ama and now a Chinese state museum, swam into view. Despite being juxtaposed with the TV tower, the palace was an awe-inspiring site, even more so the next morning when it was encircled in a whorl of prayer-wheel- turning, pilgrims. A deep-abiding faith was palpable as hundreds of t¡betans slowly walked around the palace, a practice that is a daily routine for many Lhasa residents.
Gnarled, toothless old women prostrated themselves again and again on the ground before the palace. Some were supported by young children. Others walked dogs. The tinkle of silver jewelry mingling with the whirling of prayer wheels made for a strangely stirring spiritual amalgam.
Inside, palace director Qiangba Gesang was surprisingly nervous about the impact of the train on the pοta⌊a Palace.
The palace currently restricts visitors to 1,800 a day. Tourists are charged 100 yuan (US$12) and pilgrims a token 1 yuan for entry. But the influx of tourists the railway is expecting has led palace management to admit an additional 500 visitors per day. However, the price of an entry ticket will be tripled to scare away the budget-conscious and thus reduce the burden of human weight on the fragile building.
"I don't care about more visitors or making money," Qiangba said. "I care about the palace and its protection." His main concern is that the mud and wood structures of the 13-story palace will collapse under the weight of a tourist influx. "More tourists will be good for Lhasa, but not for the palace," he said.
The pοta⌊a was the winter residence of the da1a¡ Lamas and even today houses the throne where the current da1a¡ 1ama, Tenzin Gyatso, the 14th in a sacred line, sat to rule over t¡bet before he fled to India in 1959. In recent times Beijing has lifted restrictions on religious worship in t¡bet, with authorities reluctant to appear as stifling religious sentiment and local culture. Spaces for worship and pilgrimage have thus been opened. The pοta⌊a, for example, has been given a recent injection of cash to the tune of 170 million yuan for renovation.
But at the same time the authorities are unwilling to take any chance of t¡betans coalescing around the da1a¡ 1ama into a movement for independence. Public photographs of him are prohibited, and even possession of his picture can lead to trouble. When asked how he felt about being unable to put up a single photograph of the da1a¡ 1ama at what is the spiritual leader's former residence, Qiangba's jovial expression changed. "We do whatever the government decides," he said stiffly.
The pοta⌊a was packed with pilgrims, a sign of the loosening of religious controls. Some looked curiously at the new train tourists. Lopsang, a 27-year-old monk who lives in the pοta⌊a, worries the new train will bring in an influx of migrants to Lhasa to the detriment of the local people.
"Local t¡betans are poorly educated," he said. "Others from outside would have better qualifications, so more jobs would go to them."
Lopsang echoed one of the main arguments critics of the railway make: that the benefits accruing from the railway will go not to t¡betans as much as to Chinese from other parts of the country who are coming to Lhasa in large numbers to set up businesses. These new migrants are better educated and also have access to lines of credit that most t¡betans lack.
A hotel where some train passengers stayed is owned by a businessman from Sichuan province. A quick survey of the shop owners along the main street revealed the majority to be from outside of t¡bet as well.
But the monk also believes the railway will enable young t¡betans to get a quality education elsewhere in China. "It has its good points."
Outside the palace, a group of t¡betan women worked on restoring a section of the pοta⌊a's roof. The sun glinted in their hair and a heavy Chinese flag unfurled behind them. As they worked they sang a song of beauty and strength and stamped their feet in unison in an impromptu dance.
"They sure are great singers, but I am not so sure about them as workers," joked a Foreign Ministry official from Beijing.
On the knickknack-packed streets of Lhasa's old town, Hindi film music played as some locals tried to speak to the train visitors. The center of Lhasa had a prosperous look. Its roads are free of pot holes, and swanky shops selling fashionable clothes and cutting-edge electronics give it a posher air than even the glitzier parts of New Delhi or Mumbai.
Despite that, this may be one of the more backward parts of China. "I'm a bit disappointed by Lhasa. It's so poor," said Xiao Yan, an interpreter with the Chinese Ministry of Foreign Affairs who accompanied journalists on the train trip.
According to official figures,t¡bet's gross domestic product in 2005 reached just over 25 billion yuan. Moreover, the last decade has seen annual growth rates of more than 10%.
However, there continues to be a huge difference between the relatively prosperous city folk of Lhasa and the farmers and herdsmen of the vast countryside. Even on the outskirts of Lhasa, branded stores give way to crumbling shacks with tin roofs. North of Lhasa by Nam-tso Lake, dirty young children beg for food. But even as they devoured the oranges and bread offered them, they wrinkled their noses at salted eggs and tossed them away.
Later in a visit with a family of yak herders who live 14 to a tent and make ends meet by selling yak milk, a middle-age woman said she is the mother of seven (China's one-child policy does not apply to t¡bet) and the family ekes out a subsistence living. But parked next to the shabby tent was a battered old car along with a motorcycle, both of which belonged to the family.
The average disposable income in rural Lhasa is officially calculated at about 2,000 yuan. For the cities the figure is about 8,000 yuan.
Back in Lhasa, large banners boasting of the golden opportunities the railway will bring festooned the entrance to the city. New hotels encased in scaffolding are going up. Lhasa's first-five star hotel, The Brahamaputra Grand, opened its doors in June. The Grand Hyatt, Intercontinental Group and Banyan Tree resorts are all reportedly scouting around for properties. Restaurants were still busy at 11:00pm during this visit.
According to government estimates, t¡bet's tourism revenues will double by 2010 as a result of the railway, with half a million more tourists a year expected to stream into the region.
Champa Phuntsok, chairman of the t¡betan Autonomous Region, described the railway as a "magical road of heaven". The new train will reduce the high price of commodities in t¡bet and allow t¡betans to participate in the "national market", he said.
The railway is expected to reduce the cost of transporting goods into the region by more than half. Two trains with 60 carriages in total have begun to arrive in Lhasa every day at the new freight station, carrying 7.5 million tonnes of cargo every year, officials said.
Champa stressed that Lhasa may not be the end of the line. Plans for expanding the tracks to other cities, including border areas, are being discussed with the eventual hope that t¡bet will "change from a sealed off inland region to becoming the frontier of economic exchanges in South Asia".
With the Nathu La Pass - part of the ancient Silk Road between India and China - opening for trade just days after the opening of the Qinghai-t¡bet Railway, the potential of the railway for promoting border trade is heightened. Kashmir and the Northeast states of India continue to suffer from lack of infrastructure, and long-talked of plans to build a railway to Srinagar and Gangtok remaining unrealized.
Meanwhile, Indian military officials have expressed some unease at the opening of the t¡bet railway. The fear is the new trains will help China's military bring tactical mobile nuclear missiles 1,000 kilometers closer to the Indian border and deploy troops much quicker.
The ultimate impact of the railroad will be a matter for history to judge and is likely to be complex. t¡betans will probably be economic beneficiaries of the train, though opening up to the outside world will also bring to an end t¡bet as the world knows it.
That the railway will bind the region both economically and politically more closely to the rest of China is a fact that supporters and critics of the project agree on. It's the implications of this new bond in which differences of opinion emerge.
Pallavi Aiyar is the China correspondent for The Hindu. |
_________________
I have parrallel bars at home, one for gin and one for whiskey |
|
|
|
|
|
| |
|
|
Forum FAQ
Search
Preferences
Watched Topics
Log in to check your private messages
Log in
