The small blue oval dot on the map in the remote northwest of China belies its considerable size. As the Qinghai-Tibet Railway, the highest railroad in the world, passes by this huge body of water, lying still and peaceful on the easternmost fringe of the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau, it now seems even closer to us than before. Its name is Qinghai Lake.

Early this summer, I finally reached the Qinghai Lake that I had for so long admired, and where I was to be lucky enough to enjoy the local lake-worshipping ceremony. My greatest impressions were not only of the vast lake, but of the harmonious relationship existing there, between mankind and nature.

In the early morning I set out from Xining, the capital city of Qinghai Province, jumping on a bus headed for Golmud. Only an hour into the journey the roadside scenery suddenly changed: Loess hills were replaced by gently undulating highland grassland which translated as the "Golden and Silver Beach,¡± and actually resembled a seemingly boundless golf course. The bus headed west along the straight highway, and the bunched-up white clouds hung low in the sky seemed to be chasing the bus. Summer had arrived, but the grass had only just budded. Flocks of yaks and sheep were out enjoying the early fresh grass of the year.

The bus motored on for another hour. Everything was quiet aside from the constant roar of the engine. Outside the window was still a vast expanse of grassland.

Looking northwards, one could see the Qilian Mountains lying faintly on the horizon.

A lake-worshipping fair would be held in Quanji Township, Gangcha County, on the north bank of Qinghai Lake, and it was very fortunate for me to be able to witness such an event on my first pilgrimage to the lake. Our guide, Cerhe, was a young man from the Tibetan ethnic group, working at the Gangcha Tourism Bureau. He told me that our bus was running along the north route to Qinghai Lake, and we would soon catch sight of what we had traveled so far to see. That moment, an azure flash passed my eyes. As the bus advanced, the flash disappeared as my eyes adjusted to the light, and the patch of blue became bigger and bigger. Finally, an impressive lake, shining in the sunlight, appeared before my eyes.

Tibetan people regard the crystal-clear lakes on the plateau as sacred places. And Qinghai Lake is no exception, being historically venerated as a celestial lake. Countless rulers of past dynasties once held religious ceremonies here to worship the lake. From 1653, the tenth year of the reign of Emperor Shunzhi of the Qing Dynasty (1644-1911), right through to the end of the period of the Republic of China (1912-1949), lake-worshipping ceremonies were mainly held at three venues, of which Quanji Township was one. And here the traditional ceremonies have been retained.

Built during the reign of Emperor Shunzhi, the Shatuo Monastery is six kilometers southwest of Quanji Township and one kilometer away from Qinghai Lake. The Fifth Dalai Lama Lobsang Gyatso used to preside over lake-worshipping rituals in the monastery here. Nowadays, lake worshipping has become an important folk tradition. Each year, local Tibetans choose an auspicious day on which to worship Qinghai Lake.

More and more Tibetan men riding motorcycles appeared on the road. They wore all sorts of hats, as well as sunglasses and thick scarves to protect against sunshine and wind. Women had their faces covered with colorful shawls and sat on the rear saddles, their arms wrapped tightly around the waists of their husbands. Cerhe remarked that they came from various distant towns to participate in the lake-worshipping fair. Seeing the amount of motorcycles gathering here, I knew that the fair would certainly be a bustling event. Suddenly I saw two huge colored pray flags, under which countless people were crowded in together. This was where the ceremony was to be held.

Motor vehicles could not approach the lakeside, so my companions and I climbed out the bus in advance and rushed towards the ceremonial spot, for fear of missing any of the ceremony. When we arrived, everyone was out of breath. We'd forgotten how high up the plateau was, and about the dangers of altitude sickness.

Luckily, the ceremony had only just started and lamas from the Shatuo Monastery were reciting Buddhist sutras. A light smoke coiled up from an altar on the hill, and some 20 Tibetan men walked around the altar, throwing longda (scraps of paper printed with images of the Buddha) into the air or sprinkling highland barley seeds onto the altar. The ceremony was simple but dignified. I did not understand what these men prayed for, but affected by the solemn atmosphere, I silently eyed the altar with respect.

Then crowds began to gather on the reef projecting into the lake, and longda were thrown in bunches into the air. I joined the crowd at the lakeside, where I could clearly hear Tibetan people reciting sutras. Many knelt down towards Qinghai Lake and dropped small jars filled with wheat or highland barley seeds and sealed with red cloth into the water. Devout elders lingered reciting sutras at the lakeside, and suddenly it seemed as if they were pouring out all their prayers into the sacred lake. At that moment, I understood the real meaning of my journey to Qinghai Lake.

I stood aside to observe local people and their activities. One man constantly threw longda into the air, while his wife and two children of around 14 or 15 gazed at the opposite bank of the lake; Near to me, a young mother put her palms together and prayed in piety, while her disinterested son picked at the glazed cobbles and squatted aside to play by himself; Many others knelt down on the lakeside, reciting sutras while repeatedly washing their golden boxes with water. Being astonished at this, I asked Cerhe what they were doing. He replied, "The boxes are holy articles that many Tibetans carry with them at all times. The interior sides of the boxes are inscribed with sutra lines. Locals believe they are conveying their respect to the Buddha when they wash their boxes in the lake." If it were true, would there be some sort of mysterious power wafting from the bank to the center of the lake" I wondered whether Qinghai Lake blessed the locals, and whether the locals protected the lake because of their veneration.

After the ceremony, the area around the altar became a place for entertainment. Members of every family gathered to have a picnic or chat. According to Cerhe, there would be soon a horse race, an essential event after the lake-worshipping ceremony. Unfortunately, the event was delayed because of the weather. Dark clouds gathered, and it soon began to rain. So our original plan to walk around the lake was thwarted.

On our way back to Xining, the rain became even harder, and at one point it began to hail. When I looked back at Qinghai Lake in the distance, however, I was amazed at the different beauty and light of the lake when not lit by the sun. The grey sky seemed to loom down closer to the crystalline lake, and despite the downpour, the yaks and horses still grazed, unperturbed as ever by the weather, upon the endless grassland plains.

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Qinghai Lake lies 3,196 meters above sea level and is the largest inland saltwater lake in China. With a circumference of more than 360 kilometers, it covers an area of 4,500 square kilometers. In the Tibetan language, Qinghai Lake is called "Koko Nor,"meaning "Azure Blue Sea." The lake is one of the most popular destinations for tourists to western China. A station has been built to allow access along the new Qinghai-Tibet Railway.

According to geological surveys, there was once a vast ocean in the area. Due to orogenic (process of mountain formation by folding and faulting of the earth's crust) movement two million years ago, rising mountains blocked in the seawater and formed today's Qinghai Lake.

Bird Island, situated in the northwest of Qinghai Lake, is the most popular scenic spot on the lake, deriving its name from the countless migratory birds perching there. The smaller islet in the west is called Egg Island or Haixi Hill, while the bigger island to the east is called Haixipi. This island is a traditional habitat for bar-headed geese, Pallas's gulls and brown-headed gulls. In spring, these birds come to nest around the island. In 1994, Qinghai Lake was listed on the Ramsar List of Wetlands of International Importance. At present, there are more than 180 species of migratory and resident birds.

I visited during the breeding season (from April to July) of these birds, so I viewed a grand spectacle on Egg Island. Through the glass windows of the observation station, I saw the entire islet was occupied by bar-headed geese, among which one could occasionally find several brown-headed gulls. In the nests were some eggs that were not hatched yet. During the breeding season, bar-headed geese become oversensitive and irascible. When an adult bar-headed goose finds other birds trying to get close to their nestlings, it flaps its wings fiercely until the invader flies away. To protect their children, adult bar-headed geese can become quite courageous fighters. Their aggressive cries resounded like a chorus in the air around the island.

China Pictorial
Wang Lei(Text and photo)