Love In No Man's Land

by Duo Ji Zhuo Ga

  The wall had been polished smooth and gleamed black in the torchlight. On it had been carved a large ¤ in such high relief that the symbol stood proud of the rock, and at its centre was an even more prominent relief of an imposing black Buddha. It looked as if it was about to jump out of the wall.

  Gongzha looked at the Buddha in the centre of the circle and the image of the Buddha Zhaduo had given him to protect years ago flashed through his mind.

  ‘“Teacher of Medicine, Buddha of Lapis Lazuli Light, please protect this impoverished land and these tortured souls. Keep them from leaving again, from fighting again. Make all the lives share this sky and this grassland together. Tayata Om Bekandze Maha Bekandze Radza Samudgate Soha.”’ Zhuo Mai read the words beneath as if he were reading a scripture.

  ‘The part at the end is the Medicine Buddha’s mantra. I often heard Uncle repeat it,’ Cuomu said.

  As Gongzha gazed peacefully into the Buddha’s eyes and the Buddha’s eyes gazed peacefully back, it was if heaven and earth, past and present, became one. ‘Please help the Buddha, child!’ Living Buddha Zhaduo’s urgent tones sounded again in his ears.

  ‘When Cuomu’s uncle was teaching me Tibetan medicine, he always started with the story of the Medicine Buddha,’ Zhuo Mai said, almost to himself. ‘He said that the Medicine Buddha ruled the pure land of Eastern Lapis Lazuli. He made twelve great vows, including to wipe out all sickness, to bring happiness, to free people from evil, to bring sustenance to the hungry and thirsty, and to give beautiful clothes to the naked. Zhaduo also said that with the help of the Medicine Buddha his own dream was to wipe out sickness among the herders so they could live without illness, avoid disaster and enjoy peace and happiness.’

  ‘I think this image must be the symbol of the Nacangdeba clan, and it must have something to do with Kaguo’s family.’ Gongzha touched the relief carving of the Buddha. ‘It’s the same material as the wall, so it wasn’t added later but was made at the same time as this chamber. So that means—’

  ‘They were the ones who made this cave system?’ Cuomu joined in excitedly. ‘And they worshipped the Medicine Buddha!’

  ‘Right. Cuoe Temple was built in the Nacangdeba period. I saw a painting of the temple’s construction in another chamber. But I still don’t know what this symbol has to do with the Medicine Buddha,’ Gongzha said.

  Cuomu was suddenly reminded of her uncle and the reason she and Zhou Mai had come up the mountain. ‘You know, Gongzha, just before Uncle died, he said that you should go with Zhuo to find the Four Medical Tantras and Uncle’s medical notes. He said it was too dangerous for Zhuo to go by himself.’

  Seeing that Zhuo Mai was now out of earshot, Gongzha asked, ‘That’s why you came – to find the notes to the Four Medical Tantras?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why didn’t you get me to come with you? The two of you just deciding to head off to Chanaluo is a pretty brave thing to do.’

  ‘Weren’t you… weren’t… weren’t you ignoring me?’ Cuomu said quietly, lowering her head and blushing.

  ‘Who said I was ignoring you? Every night I…’ Gongzha wanted to tell her that every night he’d gone to her tent to wait for her, but he was too embarrassed. ‘When Shida told me you two had gone up Mount Chanaluo to pick medicinal herbs but hadn’t come back, my heart almost jumped out of my body. Woman, if you want to scare people, that isn’t the way to do it.’ Gongzha gripped her hand hard.

  Cuomu stole a glance at him and when she saw how tense and stern he looked, her heart suddenly felt very sweet. Just then, Zhuo Mai shouted out as if he’d seen a ghost.

  ‘Zhuo, if you yell like that again, you’ll scare us all to death!’ Gongzha shook his head and sighed. Holding Cuomu’s hand, he walked over.

  ‘Look!’ Zhuo Mai pointed to the traces of a line of blurry white script and stammered, ‘How… how…?’

  ‘It’s not Tibetan and it’s not Mandarin. Strange,’ Gongzha said, looking at the untidy script.

  ‘It’s English,’ Zhuo Mai said. ‘How come there’s English here?’

  ‘English?’ Cuomu and Gongzha said together in surprise.

  ‘Foreigners use it. It’s no good explaining it to you; it’s not my language or yours.’

  ‘Can you read it?’

  ‘I studied it.’

  ‘Then you’d better translate it quickly!’ Cuomu fixed him with a look that made Zhuo Mai’s mind wander back in time. His face took on an inappropriate expression.

  Looking at Zhuo Mai staring at Cuomu, Gongzha frowned. He glanced at the woman beside him. His heart was bitter, but he couldn’t show it.

  ‘Zhuo, have you lost your mind?’ Cuomu prodded Zhuo Mai with her toe.

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry.’ Zhuo Mai came out of his daydream. ‘What’s written here is: “Every step I take here increases our knowledge of the world; every name I give is a new kind of territorial occupation. Until January 1907, we knew as little about this part of the planet as we do about the dark side of the moon. Sven Hedin, Sweden.”’

  ‘Sven Hedin? Where have I heard that name before?’ Gongzha muttered to himself.

  ‘What would have brought this Swede here?’ Zhuo Mai looked at the blurred letters and his brain moved as slowly as if it were covered in glue. This cave complex was full of surprises, each more startling than the last. He’d long believed that magic existed on the Tibetan plateau. The snow mountains and lakes had so much imagination invested in them and exuded such an air of divinity, how could there not be something magical about them? But if you chased down the root of a legend, you could always pull out a thread of historical fact relating to some dynasty, some era, some unarresting corner. This Swede had stepped into this place decades before them: how did he get there and why did he come? And how did he get out? Was there no history to check, no one to ask?

  ‘In 1907… that long ago?’ Cuomu said in surprise as she stared uncomprehendingly at the letters like tadpoles.

  ‘Gongzha, where did you hear this name?’ Zhuo Mai asked.

  ‘I think it was the old clan leader. When his father was young, he acted as a guide to a foreigner and took the man to No Man’s Land to find rocks. I think that foreigner’s name was Sven Hedin.’ Gongzha looked at the wall and said thoughtfully, ‘Outsiders rarely come to the grassland, especially big-nosed, blue-eyed ones, so I remember pretty clearly.’

  ‘When we get back, let’s ask the clan leader,’ Zhuo Mai and Cuomu said in one voice.

  Gongzha nodded, and the three of them turned to look at the silent hall. None of them knew what to think. The walls of crushed stone had been smoothed over with a paste of ground grass and tsampa that emitted a faint black gleam in the smudged orange glow of the butter lamps. The flames barely wavered and the shadows of the pillars and the cross-legged figures overlapped and intersected like otherworldly demons. All the dead men sat placidly, showing no signs of fear or panic. Their clothes were unruffled and they were as quiet and calm as if they were living.

  Gongzha put his arm around Cuomu’s shoulders and pulled her into him. Zhuo Mai stood by the stone chair in the centre, resting his chin on the end of his upturned gun. The three stood quietly and fell into a deep silence.

  Finding nothing else in the hall, they continued into the tunnel. Zhuo Mai led the way and, as before, each time they turned a corner, he drew a line with a stone. Two tunnels appeared in front of them: one went up and to the left; the other went down and to the right. They stopped to discuss which route to take.

  ‘Let’s try going up first. Didn’t you come down when you came in? There might be another exit,’ Gongzha said.

  Zhuo Mai and Cuomu nodded and they continued along the left-hand passageway, lighting the lamps as they went. The tunnel wended its way upwards and was a bit different from the other passages. Its walls had clearly been carefully worked and were very smooth. The butter lamps were also different: no longer simple copper bowls but instead beautifully engraved with auspicious figures.

  Eventually th
e tunnel ended at a scarlet iron door, the first door they’d come across in the cave complex. The three of them stood looking at it in silence. There was no lock. On the lintel was painted in bright colours the Kalachakra mantra, and over the door was an extraordinarily white ¤, which seemed both benign and mysterious.

  Gongzha pushed the door and it creaked open. Dust fell from the top, obscuring their vision.

  They didn’t rush in but waited a while, letting the foul air escape before getting out their torches and going in. They lit the two ornate lamps by the door, and once they could see the inside of the chamber clearly, they entered, their mouths open, unable to speak.

  In the centre of the chamber stood a tall rectangular stone platform supporting a wooden box. The box was obviously made of sandalwood because the whole room was filled with a light sandalwood scent. Lined up in front of the box was a series of small gold Buddhas.

  Gongzha looked up at the little Buddhas. There were at least twenty of them and he recognised them immediately. He’d seen them countless times as a child, when he’d gone with his father to Cuoe Temple to pay his respects to Living Buddha Zhaduo. The Red Guards hadn’t been able to find these ancient statues when they’d stormed into the temple, which was why they’d interrogated the monks so intensively. It seemed Zhaduo had moved them here long before.

  Zhuo Mai passed his gun to Cuomu. When he looked up at the sandalwood box, his heart raced and his blood surged. The box was exactly like the one Zhaduo had described. ‘The heart’s blood of my life as a travelling doctor is in that sandalwood box,’ Living Buddha Zhaduo had told him. ‘I put it in a very safe place. If it is your destiny to find it, please treasure it. Do not forget to act with the benevolence and compassion befitting of a doctor.’

  Zhaduo was the elder Zhuo Mai respected the most and he would never forget him. The old living Buddha had stuffed everything he’d learnt into Zhuo Mai’s head, saying that he didn’t want what he’d spent so long studying to be lost; he hoped that Zhuo Mai would one day bring Tibetan medicine back to the grassland.

  Zhuo Mai was a surgeon and had had no knowledge of Tibetan medicine, but the old man’s sincerity had moved him. He became an enthusiastic student and carefully observed and absorbed the methods the old man taught him. He’d studied diligently under Zhaduo while he was alive, but since the old man’s death he’d redoubled his efforts. He felt unworthy in comparison: Zhaduo had always been true to his values and would always help others, regardless of the circumstances. Zhou Mai was determined to fulfil his final wishes. He would go to No Man’s Land and find the last herb Zhaduo hadn’t managed to classify.

  There were three steps up to the stone platform, but Zhuo Mai didn’t race up them. Rather, he respectfully prostrated himself on the ground three times in the Tibetan way. Then he straightened up, and with the dust from the floor still on his forehead, he mounted the stairs one at a time, his gaze fixed on the box.

  ‘Gongzha, there are words on the platform, and they’re addressed to you!’

  Gongzha flew up the stairs. When he saw the words, his eyes reddened. He was very familiar with Living Buddha Zhaduo’s script, and the words were indeed addressed to him.

  Gongzha, my good child, when the time is right, please return these Buddhas to Cuoe Temple and let Buddha’s light shine on the grassland once more.

  ‘He really was a clever old man. Who would have thought he would hide the Buddhas in a mountaintop cave? But how did he know you would find this place?’ Zhuo Mai muttered.

  ‘Because Kaguo lives in this cave. I would only need to find Kaguo to find this place. That was why he repeatedly told me to look for Kaguo.’ Gongzha jumped down and motioned for Zhuo Mai to pass him the Buddhas.

  Zhuo Mai handed them to him one by one. When only the sandalwood box was left on the platform, his heart began to race again. He reached out his hand but suddenly drew it back. This was the heart’s blood of the old man, his life’s work. Touching it was like touching the old man’s soul.

  Eventually he picked up the box with both hands, slowly descended the steps and sat down cross-legged on the ground. He brushed the dust off it. The box was made of red sandalwood and was ornately decorated; on the top was carved an auspicious jewelled parasol.

  After wrapping the little Buddhas in Cuomu’s headscarf and placing them in her backpack, Gongzha squatted next to Zhuo Mai and asked quietly, ‘Is that what you were looking for?’

  ‘It must be.’

  ‘How does it open?’ Gongzha took it and turned it this way and that, checking the top and bottom and the left and right sides, but there was no lock or any other sort of fastening.

  ‘There’s a secret lock under here – a sunken disc,’ Zhuo Mai said. He slid a small panel off one end of the box, beneath which lay an ornate golden disc in the shape of a ¤.

  Gongzha stared intently at the tiny ¤. ‘How did you know?’

  ‘Cuomu’s uncle told me about it. He said that when I found the box, I had to be sure not to hit it or force it open, otherwise everything inside would be ruined.’ Zhuo Mai lifted the box and shook it gently. There was a faint splashing sound. ‘Maybe there’s some kind of corrosive liquid in there and if you force the box open, it’ll spill out and destroy the contents.’

  He pulled out his small meat knife and used its point to rotate the disc. He turned it clockwise three times, then anti-clockwise three times, then clockwise once and finally anti-clockwise twice. The box snapped open.

  There was a roll of paper inside, which Zhuo Mai gently lifted out. As he looked through it, his eyes welled with tears. ‘This is wonderful,’ he muttered. ‘So many descriptions of illnesses and the medicinal herbs needed to treat them. Cuomu, your uncle really was a living Buddha.’

  Cuomu didn’t reply. There was nothing else in the chamber except the stone platform, so she was fully absorbed in investigating the rifle that Zhuo Mai had handed her. Women rarely had access to guns on the grassland because the men monopolised them. She set up the forked stand, balanced the gun on it, sat down with her finger on the trigger and practised turning the muzzle. As she pointed it towards the door, a shadowy figure suddenly stuck its head through. Cuomu was so startled, her finger twitched and the gun went off.

  The figure in the doorway fell to the floor with a thud. Cuomu dropped the gun in fright and began to scream.

  From the outside came the sound of something running away. Then there was quiet.

  Without a thought for the frightened Cuomu, Gongzha dashed out through the door.

  Zhuo Mai swiftly rolled up the medical notes, put them in the box, closed the box with a snap and stuffed it into his leather chuba. Then he got up and also raced outside.

  A bear cub lay at the door, blood streaming from a hole in the centre of its forehead. They could hear other bears growling in the distance. At first there was only one, then two, three, four… Eventually there were too many to count; all they knew was that they seemed to be surrounded by angry bears in all directions.

  Gongzha and Zhuo Mai set up their gun stands, lay on the floor and trained their muzzles on the far reaches of the dark tunnel. Cuomu stood pale and trembling behind them.

  The growling continued for some time, and then it gradually went quiet.

  After a while, Gongzha and Zhuo Mai glanced at one another and sat up.

  Zhuo Mai looked at the bear cub next to him. ‘It’s dead.’ Looking at Cuomu, he joked, ‘Woman, you’re not a bad shot. You killed a bear on your first attempt.’

  ‘But I hit it completely by accident – I didn’t even mean to fire the gun,’ Cuomu said, a panicked expression in her eyes. She was still in shock.

  Zhuo Mai looked at Gongzha. ‘How can there be bears in here?’

  ‘I got in here by following a pack of bears. Look!’ Gongzha lifted up the bear cub’s head and pointed to a white circle on its forehead. ‘It’s the same marking, isn’t it?’

  ‘I don’t understand this at all – what do the bears have to do with these caves?�
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  ‘I don’t know. There’s no question that this bear cub is Kaguo’s and that Kaguo and the other bears have something to do with the construction of this place. It’s just that we haven’t figured out what yet. Did you hear anything just now?’

  ‘It sounded like something running?’

  ‘Bears. We need to be careful and do our utmost to avoid running into them.’

  ‘I’ve been in Tibet all these years,’ Zhuo Mai muttered, ‘but apart from a mother with her cubs, I’ve never seen three bears together. It’s very strange.’

  ‘It’s the first time I’ve seen this many bears together as well,’ Gongzha said. ‘But it’s not so strange that they’re here. This cave system is an ideal hibernation hideaway – it’s out of the wind and it faces west – and grassland bears always hibernate for a long time. We don’t see them for three or four months. And this is the time of year they have cubs. We need to be careful: even though bears are often gentle, they can be ferocious if they come into sudden contact with people, and we’ve already killed one of their cubs. Bears’ sight and hearing might be poor, but their sense of smell is good.’ Gongzha tugged Cuomu’s arm. ‘Come on, let’s go and look at the other chambers. Now that we’re here, we may as well do some exploring.’

  The three of them left that chamber and Zhuo Mai closed the door carefully behind them. Even though there was no lock, it had been closed when they arrived, so they felt they ought to close it again when they left. Having come upon the cave complex unexpectedly, they now felt a little like intruders, as if they’d burst into someone’s house without permission.

  Gongzha continued to the far end of the tunnel. There was a door there too, also without a lock. It seemed that there were surprises waiting for them in every part of the cave complex and they had no way of guessing what might greet them on the other side.