No one can claim to have really visited Lhasa until they have taken a stroll around Barkhor Street. Famous in Lhasa, and throughout the entire Tibetan Autonomous Region, Barkhor Street is d trading as well as religious center The goods for sale here exemplify local Tibetan culture and artefacts. From morning to evening, streams of people throng the streets, to purchase whatever they need.

Barkhor Street enjoys a long history. Built to encircle the famous Jokhang Monastery in Lhasa, it is actually a narrow lane, 600m. long. Around the seventh century, when the Tibetan King, Srong-btsan Sgam-po, succeeded in uniting the various tribes within Tibet, the Tang Emperor promised Chinese Princess Wen Cheng in marriage to him. When Princess Wen Chejig left Chang'an, (today's Xi'an), then capital city of the Tang Dynasty, on her way to Tibet, she took with her a statue of Sakyamuni, the founder of Buddhism, In addition to her abundant dowry. This statue was later housed in the Jokhang Monastery, which was built according to Princess Wen Cheng's ingenious design. Since that time, the Jokhang Monastery has served as a sacred place of worship for the Tibetan people. And the street which encircles the monastery is none other than Barkhor Street.

At sunrise, when the incence burners, which are over one meter high, are lit on the square in front of the Jokhang Monastery, plumes of blue smoke drift up towards heaven, enveloping the gilded roof of the monastery in mist. Devout Buddhists, each holding a butter lamp, file into the Monastery one by one. After prostrating themselves before the images of Buddha, they pour the butter from their lamps into the lamps which stand in front of each statue of the Buddha. Day in and day out, the butter lamps in the monastery are thus kept alight all year round. For the same reason the sale of yak butter, as well as butter lamps is a thriving trade in Barkhor Street.

Outside the monastery, scores of Buddhists, most of them women, prostrate themselves before the front gate of the monastery, whilst other devout Buddhists walk clockwise around Barkhor Street, holding a spinning Zhuanjingtong (or prayer wheel, containing mantras) in one hand, and counting their prayer beads with the other. With each forward step, they chant the six syllable, holy Buddhist mantra "Om Mani Padme Hun," in prayer for the blessing and enlightenment of all sentient beings. This religious practice is called Zhuanjing.

Over 1,300 years have elapsed since the establishment of the Jokhang Monastery, during which time successive generations of Tibetans have prostrated and worshiped here. In the 1950s, Tibet remained so isolated and cut off from the outside world that it was still a feudal serf society, reminiscent of medieval Europe.

After leaving the square, I was soon captivated by numerous stalls, situated close together, selling hadas, Tibetan Buddhist sutras, and articles for daily uses. Hada, in Tibetan, means a ''ceremonial scarf,'' and the custom of presenting these as greetings bestows blessings upon both the giver and the recipient. The hada, therefore, is a necessity in the daily life of ordinary Tibetans. Presenting a hada to a statue of Sakyamuni is regarded as the highest expression of piety. When I visited Zhaxi Lhunbo Lamasery in Xigaze, I bought a hada and piously presented it to the holy body of the Tenth Bainqen Erdini Qoigyl Gyaincain (the Panchen Lama). Today, since some foreign tourists now visit the Jokhang Monastery in Lhasa, a few street vendors can even say a few words in foreign languages; just enough to sell their hadas. Although many such vendors tried to persuade me to buy a hada, what I really longed for was to be presented with one myself.

When strolling around Barkhor Street, there is a strict rule that should be observed. This is to circum-navigate the Jokhang Monastery in a clockwise direction. Each rotation is -equivalent to reciting a mantra, which brings with it longevity and an auspicious re-birth. The street is narrow, and lined with stalls, or shops on both sides. Most of the goods for sale were entirely new to me, so I couldn't resist the temptation to buy something as soon as I entered the street.

Tibetan people appreciate beauty and aesthetics. The women, in particular, are fond of ornaments and jewelry, with which they adorn both their hair and their costumes. All sorts of bracelets are f9r sale on the street, attracting the visitors' attention like magnets. The most unique among them was a silver bracelet, engraved in Tibetan with the name "Amitabha", or Buddha of Infinite Light. This bracelet clearly served both a religious and decorate function. When a foreign tourist bought one and put it on her wrist, the Tibetan vendor remarked: "With the blessing and protection of the Buddha, your trip to Tibet will be successful." Friendly laughter arose at her words.

It was on Barkhor Street that I made the acquaintance of a Tibetan Aunt called Yuzhen. She has three children, who are all studying in school. In addition to running a stall on Barkhor Street, Yuzhen has opened another store run by her husband. Frank and enthusiastic, Yuzhen appeared more capable than her Indian husband, who couldn't speak Chinese at all. It was not long before we were on friendly terms. Not only did Yuzhen sell me some high-quality bone necklaces at reasonable prices, but I also took my friends to shop at her stall.

Lots of Nepalese and Indians are doing business on Barkhor Street. Yuzhen's husband is one such. One day, he brought out a string of beads (in Tibetan, known as a mala), and told me kind-heartedly that when selecting a tnafa, one should make sure that it consisted of 108 beads. Traditionally, malas were used by monks and devout Buddhists in Tibetan society, when reciting their mantras (prayers),so that they wouldn't lose count. Thus, in the course of time this number acquired mystic power and was considered very auspicious. Each time I visited Yuzhen's stall or shop. I bought lots of souvenirs: a Tibetan-style knife or sword, an assortment of strange-shaped masks and antelope's horns. Each souvenir captured something of the mystery and charm of the high plateau.

One morning, I set out early to gather more information. But when I reached Barkhor Street, I changed my mind and decided to have a stroll around first, for the simple reason that the temptation was too great! This detour brought me unexpected delight and bounty. It was still very early, and the vendors had just set up their stalls Suddenly, I noticed a beautiful Zhuanjingto, of the kind I most desired, strewn on a Tibetan girl's stall. "How much?" I asked, "Seventy yuan," came the reply. "Too expensive." said I. unwillingly setting it aside. Just as I was about to move away, she stopped me, saying: "Aunt, if you think seventy yuan is too much, you name a price." Women vendors on Barkhor Street only sneak limited Chinese, as a result of which, they have to repeat themselves again and again to make themselves understood to outsiders. like myself. "Twenty-five yuan," I mustered the courage to bargain. but deep down, I thought I would buy it even if she insisted upon 30 yuan. "Oh, my God!", the girl let out an astonished cry. After hesitating for a little while, she resumed: "Twenty-five is too little; how about thirty?" I didn't expect such a favourable deal to come my way, so I excitedly bought the prayer wheel on the spot. "You are my first customer today," said the girl, "we Tibetans believe that a successful first sale in the morning bodes well for the rest of the day!" It was only then that I realized that my luck on that day was due to my being her first customer. With this in mind, I hurried to another Tibetan girl's stall, where I bought a necklace and decorative Tibetan-style knife. Being the first customer a Qain, this time I only paid one third of the price usually charged. The morning thus turned out to be a real harvest. Yet even so, the purchases I made in Lhasa were not enough to satisfy my friends' requests for souvenirs from Tibet. Upon my return to Beijing, I reluctantly had to give away everything I had bought in Tibet. .

Barkhor Street not only boasts various sorts of Tibetan folk crafts catering to tourists, but also provides the necessities of Tibetan people's daily life as well, such as bold-colored aprons, beautiful phula (a woolen cloth for making gowns), hand-woven carpets and rugs, Tibetan boots, and wooden bowls for drinking buttered tea...

Wherever one goes in Tibet, by the roadside, a lake or a river, on the roofs of farmers' houses, or atop mountains, one sees prayer-flags everywhere, waving in the wind like streamers, these kinds of "flags", which consist of red, yellow, blue, green and white strips of cloth, are sewn together in the shape of a cross. But most eye-catching of all are the black sutras printed on such prayer-flags. These release their prayers and blessings into the atmosphere as they are blown by the wind. Although I have no knowledge of sutras, I bought one long, thin prayer-flag anyway, as a memento of my trip to Tibet, which flaps in the breeze once it is hung up, like a five-colored streamer.

In addition to religious objects traditionally only used in monasteries or temples, Tibetan calendars are also available on Barkhor Street, compiled by the hospital of traditional Tibetan medicine in Lhasa. (The Tibetan year varies somewhat from the Chinese lunar year, thus the Tibetans have their own calendar.) Imported goods are also sold on Barkhor Street, for instance: Indian necklaces, colorful Nepalese cloth knapsacks, French perfumes and lipsticks, to list but a few items.

One twenty-seven year old Tibetan woman called Baima, opened a shop on Barkhor Street . She goes to Zhangmu, a town 800 km. away from Lhasa, twice a year, on buying trips. Since Zhangmu serves as the sole center in the region, connecting Tibet with the outside world, Baima goes there to purchase exotic goods from Southeast-Asia. Business must be good, given the superb array of high-quality and beautiful goods in her shop.

There are 626 stalls along Barkhor Street altogether. More than I ,000 self-employed households are engaged in trade and commerce here. They are in part responsible for the transformation of this ancient, and deeply religious society into a modern, secular one. Today, Tibetans not only seek good fortune in the next life, but have also begun to pursue' prosperity and worldly success in this life-time. And prosperous Barkhor Street bears witness to this subtle change in outlook.