To shoot down nine suns...

I want to tell you a story.

It is the story of the Chinese Autumn festival, it is the story of my first shopping experience in Lhasa.

Once upon a time the people lived under the glaring heat of ten suns. The people are desperate, they complain of not having enough to eat.

Dashing off the grimy, smoke-filled bus, myself and two Chinese teachers headed straight for the crowded menagerie of shop after shop filled with every kind of clothing one could imagine in only one size: Asian. Think coats with sleeves ridiculously short and tiny little pants, maybe for dolls, or anyone who isn't shaped like a Westerner.


All of their hard work went to nothing as the heat from the ten suns burnt all of their crops to a crisp. The only thing that was left of their harvest was mere ashes.

Here was a part of Lhasa I had yet to experience. The culture of materialism. It is easy to get spellbound by all of the merit making activities and general spiritual atmosphere of the place and forget that here, like everywhere, people want stuff. And stuff they shall have...

Fortunately, Hero has been practicing his archery skills. He is strong, his bow is powerful, his arrows are accurate.

We go into shop after shop, trying on all kinds of shirts and jackets and shoes. In some hidden alley we wander into a shop that looks like it is selling a grand total of about 14 different items (one of each, in only one size) and find a shirt that is really more like a dress. I try it on, and am convinced by my fellow teachers that it is quality, though I don't see the point in actually paying what is suggested for it. Here is where it gets interesting: one of the teachers looks at me and eagerly whispers "I will bargain for it."

With ease, he takes aim at the suns and one by one shoots nine out of the sky.

And so in a quiet little shop all kinds of chaos breaks loose. For about forty seconds my friend and the shop keeper are all but screaming at each other and looking as though one is going to claw the others eyes out. My poor American self is desperately thinking, "it's not even worth this, I don't even want it that bad, I don't want anything that bad, let's just go..." Then, in what seems the very midst of the argument my friend looks at me and quite calmly asserts that I can pay half of the suggested price if I still want the shirt.

Nine suns fall to warm melting heaps on the ground. One is left, it is all the people need to survive.

Stunned, I bought it.