Compassion in the Merciless Cold of Litang, China

There are some places when you travel that throw you up. They bring you into the epicentre of their condensed cultured spaces only to spit you out to blindly face the open road of language barriers and existential stops. You sit on the bus, the object of curious eyes and giggling youth, wondering whether your philosophy of travel has been dismantled by old expectations you wear in your mind as often as you put on those socks you’ve been meaning to wash.

There are some places when you travel that bury the rhythmic resonance of new tongue in your heart until they rupture your tired, worn eyes into tears. Litang, China was such a place.

Dawn rose and the promise of a new adventure for the perpetually seeking was open. I scribbled Chinese characters on moldy cardboard: “Daocheng – Ride for Free” and trekked to the highway to stick my thumb out. Solo hitchhiking this Tibetan region during off season was not an easy feat. 10°C below zero with only six cars seen on the road in the span of an hour, I hoped dancing would attract heat and locals with extra car space.

I attracted the wrong guest.

Two packs of snarling stray dogs appeared on either side of the wide street. Bouncing between fear and adrenaline I inched far from their growls. Their instincts had a different plan: stalking and chasing after me.

Flagging down cars in desperation -resembling a lunatic when reflected in people’s bewildered expressions- I sprinted through the snow to a nearby village. Two Tibetan woman dressed in traditional close-fitting robes met my gaze. Noticing my distress and freezing body they invited me into their family home.

Two hours later, four cups of butter tea, dried yak meat and kids surrounding me for an impromptu English lesson and I discovered what compassion means. Earlier I was certain new wrinkles would outline the brows on my face as stress made itself known. But improvising during adversity introduced me to the kindness of a town I never heard of amongst the buzz words of foreign travelers.

Learning that if you find yourself in a blizzard at 4000m with minimal chance of escape, never refuse tea from a smiling Tibetan woman.