...there is not a moment I would change to make our time here any better.

Yes there were definitely some rough moments, like eating wasps or having to close your eyes and hold your breath when going to the bathroom, but there is not a moment I would change to make our time here any better.

Contrast

Contrast–it has been the defining aspect of our trip thus far. New vs old. Traditional vs development. Religious beliefs vs economic goals. Even as I sit in the historic district of Dali, I cannot help but notice ‘Its A Small World’ playing in the background.

Our journey through the Tibetan areas of the upper Mekong began in Benzilan, where the sounds of cows and yaks provided a melody for the constant beat of construction. From Benzilan, we traveled to a small Tibetan village, where we met with a hunter who now works to preserve the land and animals he once would have killed. He shared his perspective–a deeply religious connection and respect for the surrounding land and sacred mountain Kawagabo. Yet, on our day trip to a hot spring in the middle of the icy Mekong, the hunter’s eyes gazed upon the construction of a new road that would enable the development of another dam along the Mekong.

As locals spun prayer wheels, seeking internal spiritual merit, turbines spun beneath the surface of the river, churning their way towards external economic advancement. While trekking up into the mountains, one could not help but notice the pristine and clear tributaries, which were lined with trash from the recent influx of tourists.

As we descended from the Tibetan plateau, and “Tashi Delek’s” turned to “Ni Hao’s”, the steady flow of the Mekong repeatedly met stagnant concrete dams. Mountains of construction gravel stood tall, even against actual mountains which bore the wounds of relentless construction.
The future of this region is tied within this contrast. And yet, even amidst uncertain development and turbulent change, there were also times when contradictions converged. Times when Tibetan children were able to maintain their language and culture, while at the same time adapting to the changing times. When tourists and pilgrims met the dancing waterfalls of glacial melt with their own laughter and joy. When one man’s actions were able to reduced the number of hunters in a village from 30% to 1%.

And so, as the journey down the Mekong continues, and we no longer witness the development of the Tibetan region through the nearest window, we can only hope that this development can embrace the power of connection rather than division, and that decisions made in the drawing room can be inclusive of the range of individuals who interact with and rely on the land, water, and glaciers of the upper Mekong.