Letter from Lhasa: Spring farming ceremony offers glimpse of timeless Xizang tradition

LHASA, March 24 (Xinhua) -- It was not yet noon, but already I was feeling a bit tipsy. Standing on the freshly plowed land, I immersed myself in the joy of a spring farming ceremony and frequent toasts infused with barley wine.

As the most important ritual in the farming areas of the Xizang Autonomous Region, this traditional ceremony marks the beginning of a new farming season and also serves as a prayer for favorable weather and bountiful harvests.

In Xizang, a region with significant differences in elevation and a diverse climate, the start of the spring farming season varies from March to late May, depending on where you are in the region.

I was fortunate enough to participate in a spring farming ceremony in rural Lhasa, the regional capital, where I could get a glimpse of this Xizang traditional ritual.

Before even reaching my destination, dozens of brightly decorated tractors had caught my eye. The vehicles were adorned with red flags, silk banners of various colors, Tibetan opera masks and, surprisingly, bells. The bells swung and made a crisp sound when the tractors were moving.

I was told later that locals considered tractors "iron cattle," and so they decorated them with bells, just like cattle.

Donned in their grand Tibetan attire, farmers placed drinks, Tibetan snacks, and several jugs of barley wine on Tibetan-style tables near the tents, in preparation for the grand celebration.

To welcome me as a guest, 16-year-old Basang Dekyi draped a Khata, a ceremonial white scarf symbolizing goodwill and blessings, around my neck and then poured me a bowl of sweet barley wine. After I had taken three sips, she filled my bowl again, and then again, explaining that sharing a drink is an integral part of the ceremony.

Laughter echoed around the field when a young man was playfully punished with three bowls of barley wine for forgetting to apply yak butter to the front of his tractor -- another custom to secure blessings. Basang Dekyi explained to me that villagers inspect the decorations on one another's tractors before the ceremony, with any negligence resulting in "punishment," which added to the festive atmosphere.

In the field, more than a dozen ladies lined up, each holding a small bucket filled with barley seeds, along with some sugar and chocolate, symbolizing hope for a sweet and prosperous year. After a round of singing and dancing, tractors with plows attached entered the field.

The tractors rumbled forward as they turned the soil, while a Tibetan woman followed each tractor, scattering barley seeds on the soil. Maybe under the influence of alcohol, I found myself caught up in the excitement, cheering along with the crowd.

Tibetan farmers had for over 2,400 years used the traditional method of tying a wooden pole around the necks of two heads of cattle to pull a plow. However, the use of modern machinery has since replaced this ancient farming practice.

Tenzin, 50, told me that he was chosen as the leading driver as he had proved robust and healthy over the past year -- both an honor for him and a ritual aimed at ensuring good fortune for the community for the coming year.

"I've participated in the ceremony every year since I was young, but now life has changed dramatically compared with the past. The ceremony has become even grander," he said.

Tenzin revealed that thanks to large machinery, farm work that took several days to complete 20 years ago could now be done in one day.

Driven by curiosity, I searched for some data and found that the integrated mechanization rate for major crop cultivation and harvest surpassed 71 percent in 2023 in this region, with the grain output hitting a record high of 1.09 million tonnes.

What really surprised me was that Basang Dekyi's family doesn't have any farmland, but she and her mother working in Lhasa nonetheless participate in the spring farming ceremony every year.

"The ceremony is more than just an agricultural event. It is a cherished tradition that connects us to our roots. My mother said it carries the hopes for a good new year," Basang Dekyi told me.

As I stood tipsily among the smiling faces, I couldn't help but feel a deep connection to this land of hope and the timeless traditions that sustain it.