Losar, Lhasa, Tibet

just listening to gg vikey

Benin musician who disappeared inside himself

have spent this saturday visiting with various people in their homes,

eating food, drinking butter tea

losar

not much unlike Christmas

exclude commerce and vanity of consumption

so family, friends, food, timelessness

like a dream i once had

deja vu

and in a moment of silence a young girl starts talking about her grandfather,

his death, his reincarnation

only myself listening,

and a young woman working for Future Generations translating

a story

from nowhere

a monastery, fallen into disrepair somewhere far away,

and a gap through which the nuns can no longer pass...

then new guests arrive

more food

meat

the girl

there

gone

for me, losar started three nights ago, in Tsetang,

shared soup, toasts, songs, all around a wood stove

a tibetan house

the following night here in this hotel, with staff

young people

winter

time together, bound by their work

living in the hotel

empty excepting few guests

myself,

and several foreigners working on a project in the east

who were travelling the next day

last night, after a day's work on papers and computer,

locked in this hotel room

a quiet evening, ate in the restaurant next door,

chatted with one australian

he down on the costs of foreign experts, the softness of bureaucrats

he a rugged man who spent 20 years working in the outback with aboriginals

no time for sensitivities

then at midnight, reading Civilization, wrapped in blankets

blasts of fireworks, rockets

new year arrived

i turned off the light

and listened

and slept

then this morning

food and ritual in the early hours with hotel staff in the lobby

songs

then visiting

and back to the beginning of this story...