Tibet: the descent of the Tsangpo river with a gowa

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Article and photos of Franco Pizzi
www.viaggiinasia.com

The gowa are small boats made of yak skin, for a boat is used the skin of 3 yaks and it takes a week of work to be made. Until a few years ago it was the mean of shipping used in Tibet, for the transport of passengers or goods; some authors-explorers described dozens of boats carrying pilgrims from one shore to another. Now the gowas are replaced by motor barges crossing the Tsangpo much faster, but certainly they doesn't have the charm of small boats that move slowly on placide and green waters of the river.
My experience with gowas began just outside Lhasa, with a handful of customers; you lead day by day in this wonderful journey necessary to know a little unusual Tibet.

22/10
We leave Lhasa on boats; We are three on each boat, a little tight, sitting on tables covered with blankets, with our luggage as back rest. The destination is Ushe, 4 hours and half of navigation. The Kyiciu is particularly quiet today, clean, its water is green with shades of blue, and looking upwards we could not see a cloud, a sky smooth as that of Ladakh.
We reach the beach in the afternoon and while the boatmen bring on the tents we move towards the Gompa to 4270m, making 400m of climb on a steep trail. Once came back, I sit down on the sand while my companions with their voices ruin the enchanted silence that surrounds us.
Looking toward the west at sunset, the chain of the Nyang Chen on the horizon is pink and its distant tips mark the end of the world. The sunset is fast and colorful, and the decline of the sun joins the dispute as arisen nearly full moon. The people speak yet, ruining the atmosphere, in this land of fable where every phenomenon is seen as a manifestation of the will of some divinity.
In the morning the tent temperature is -2°C degrees but soon, outside, will rise to +10°C.

23/10
The Kyiciu is a tributary of the Tsangpo and today we do our entry in this majestic river on whose banks was born Tibetan civilization. By boat!
We have entered in the Tsangpo and boatmen sings, sings and plays. They race and sing; seems that the toil of rowing for them doesn't exist, they're not tired! The sun is too strong and we have no shelter, on boats there is a lot to do. At some point we hear some screams; on the other side a bus of tourists has stopped, so we greet and take pictures. On the other side river is close to the airport, which ruins the landscape. Immediately after we doesn't feel anything, apart from the noise of the rapids, not very fast, a little song in harmony with the rugged beauty of this place.
My guide name is Pemba, a shy boy, kind, prepared and available. We immediately become friends. Even with the cook that I know, since a long time, we are in good relationships, as if it was the chef of a five-star hotel, on the other boat asks me in Tibetan, shouting, what do we want for dinner. Incredible. Today we have trips for which we spend all the time on the beach to chat on various topics concerning Tibet and Buddhism.
The sunset has always attracted people of all races and all beliefs as something mysterious, divine. And even though nowadays we know what it is, we don't excape this magic moment. At least, I am one of such persons; I observe what is happening as at west the river becomes a cast of gold; Kailash from the blessings of yogin arrives on the waters of the Tsangpo, and I feel comfortable in my tent in desert sand.

24/09
This morning we started at 10am. With convenience; time in these places runs as it should: "slow"! Slow is the navigation on the immense Tsangpo. To the west, the direction opposite to that where we are slowly slipping, the river seems to be enclosed by a chain of mountains, at this time snowy. Towards the south-east: space! It seems that the river finishes in the sky. We are along the left bank and we do not see the right one; golden sand dunes worked by the wind and sand banks with rare vegetation impede the view of the super highway that runs toward Tsedang. Now we are in the Lokha district "a region that looks south".
The left side is still in the hands of nature; at noon we stopped in a fishing village, the one of our boatman. The village is primitive, houses are made with rudimentary materials, and various gowas were supported to trees to dry. We visit the house of my boatman; his wife with a gentle voice invites me to drink chang and eat something. I accept only Chang. Going away I wonder if they know that their country is under the Chinese government, though their influence is felt everywhere, or if something or someone managed to escape.
We are back in a boat and sitting at water level, the only noises I hear are the oars that cut this water and ancient songs of the boatman, sometimes sweet and sometimes not, but always in harmony with the place.
Our camp is on the beach in front of the monastery of Dorje Drak, a Nyingmapa monastery in reconstruction, inhabited by 27 monks. Inside we find a crowd of pilgrims arrived from Lhasa, which are guests of the monks and will sleep drawn on blankets on the floor of the courtyard. They are kind and offer us pö cha [Tibetan tea] and boiled potatoes. I kindly refuse.
For dinner we eat fish caught by boatman; perhaps the fish had eaten the flesh of corpses further upstream, but they are tasty.

25/09
A full day of navigation, with the usual songs of the boatman. The landscape on the left bank is lunar: sand dunes and rocks. The camp is laid out on a beautiful beach and Pemba is dealing for tractors that tomorrow will lead us to the village, so then, on foot, we go to the sacred caves of Guru Rimpoce.

26/09
The little tractor came to take us at 9am, and we made an exhausting trip of an hour. At the village we continue for the gompa of nuns, a 45 minutes of walk away. A small monastery held by nice and kind nuns, very clean and with so many flowers that reveal a female management. We put out to the caves on a path very, very, steep, because we have to climb up to 1500m.
On our return the beach offers a magic and calm moment, large birds - the Dun-Duns - move quietly among the dry while fishermen pull nets for another meal based on fish.

27/09
Today is the last day of boat. The oarsmen pull the nets and there are 50 fish. They prepare and then bring them to dry at the sun. They will be their stocks for the winter, or their selling goods for some small market.
Samye, one of the most famous monasteries of Tibet (because in that place Buddhism was recognized as a religion of state), represents for us the return to the civilization. The boat stops on the beach where a truck awaits to bring us to Samye.
The journey is finished, not less, this part of the journey. For once I realized what means to live in close contact with 6 Tibetans, and my experience was very positive, so different from contacts with the Tibetans in exile. The boatmen earned 2200 yuan in six days, I admit nothing for their work: they rew throughout the day, helped to assemble the tents for us, to catch fish, met the absurd claims of some customers. People nice and beautiful.
Rimbaud said: "What am I doing here?" Even I ask me. The answer? "I don't know"