jdhmnovel Chapter 113: Feel the Passion of Horse Racing in Tibet
Chapter 113: Feel the Passion of Horse Racing in Tibet
"I heard that horse racing in Tibet is very lively, with riders galloping on their horses, showing their passion and ambition. The scene is simply fascinating."
Zhang Bei's eyes were bright, and he gestured with his hands as he spoke, as if the magnificent scene of galloping horses had already appeared before his eyes. The others nodded. Xiao Xing's face was full of longing, and her eyes were shining with excitement. She pulled Sister Xiao Tao's arm and said, "Sister, let's go and have a look and feel the unique folk customs." Sister Xiao Tao smiled, touched Xiao Xing's head, and agreed softly.
As the morning light pierced through the mist and the grasslands awakened, the group packed their bags and set off for the racecourse on the Bangda Grasslands in Tibet. Along the way, the view from the car window stretched as far as the eye could see across the endless wilderness. The increasing altitude and the discomfort of the thin air didn't dampen their enthusiasm; instead, it intensified their anticipation.
Jockey Club has different historical backgrounds and cultural significance in different regions.
The Dangxiong Horse Racing Festival in Tibet, for example, originated in the 17th century when Gushri Khan, leader of the Khoshut tribe of Mongolia, led his troops into Tibet. They raised military horses on the grasslands northwest of Lhasa and held an annual cavalry review. The Dangxiong Horse Racing Festival was inherited from this tradition.
July and August of the Tibetan calendar are the harvest season for livestock products. Herders gather at the market to exchange agricultural products and daily necessities. The horse racing fair becomes a gathering for the exchange of agricultural and livestock products, as well as a celebration of the harvest and a cultural and entertainment activity.
In the Tibetan epic "The Legend of King Gesar," Gesar was crowned king after winning a horse race. Horse racing festivals in some places continue the custom of horse racing and archery before Gesar's expedition, reflecting the Tibetan people's worship of heroes.
Horses are the Tibetan people's closest companions in their daily lives. They are indispensable for herding, traveling, and weddings. Horse racing has therefore become one of the Tibetan people's most enduring and widespread mass activities, a key manifestation of their nomadic lifestyle.
The horse racing fair features costume shows, song and dance performances, and other activities that showcase the unique clothing, music, and dance cultures of various ethnic groups, playing a vital role in inheriting and promoting outstanding ethnic cultures. For example, the Tibetan dance performances during the Yushu Horse Racing Fair, with their bold, unrestrained movements and enthusiastic and cheerful demeanor, fully showcased the charm of Khampa culture.
The event draws people from all over, providing opportunities for social interaction and fostering unity among ethnic groups and regions. It also serves as a time for family reunions and strengthening bonds, allowing people to enjoy the races and participate in activities with friends and family, strengthening their connections.
It is an important form of entertainment, allowing people to relax and enjoy themselves amidst their busy lives. Spectators can enjoy exciting horse racing and various performances, experiencing the thrill and joy of the competition. Participants can demonstrate their riding skills and courage on the field, gaining a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction.
The Jockey Club embodies values such as courage, strength, and wisdom, inspiring young people to constantly challenge themselves and pursue excellence. At the same time, participating in the Jockey Club allows people to experience awe for nature, faith in and prayer for the gods, and strengthen national cohesion and cultural identity.
Opening the live broadcast room, Xiao Xing began to introduce the situation of horse racing to everyone.
The sound of galloping horses in the distance drew the crowd in. The Tibetans were busily and methodically preparing for the horse race. The riders, dressed in brightly colored robes embroidered with exquisite patterns, with ribbons fluttering in the wind around their waists and felt hats on their heads, sat majestically atop their tall, sturdy steeds.
The horses' manes flew in the wind, their hooves pawed the ground restlessly, heavy breaths came out of their nostrils, and their bodies exuded the restless passion for competition.
Zhang Bei's eyes lit up instantly, and like a curious child, he couldn't wait to get close to a Tibetan and ask about the situation with a smile on his face.
The Tibetan uncle was enthusiastic and cheerful. He told them in not very fluent Mandarin that this was a traditional folk event that had been passed down in the local area for a long time. Every time this happened, the entire grassland was immersed in joy and passion. Outsiders could not only participate in the ceremony, but also experience the unique pride of Tibet firsthand.
After hearing this, Zhang Bei was so excited that he rubbed his hands and said eagerly, "Let's join in the fun and feel the passion of horse racing in Tibet." Everyone was full of anticipation and followed the crowd to the racecourse.
The area around the racecourse was already crowded with people, and cheers, applause, and shouts of encouragement intertwined together, one after another, forming an exciting and surging melody.
Xiao Xing, like a cheerful little deer, leaped with excitement. Pulling Xiao Tao closer, she squeezed to the front row, her eyes fixed unblinking as she gazed expectantly at the starting line. There, the horses lined up neatly, their riders focused, gripping the reins tightly and leaning forward slightly, as if becoming one with the horses, poised for the start.
"Bang!" A crisp and loud starting gun sounded, like a thunderclap in the sky, breaking the momentary silence in the stadium.
In an instant, the horses burst forth like arrows, their hooves clattering like the pounding of drums, shaking the very earth. Riders leaned over their horses' backs, their reins like nimble snakes, deftly controlling their horses' direction and speed, guiding them wildly along the track. The dust kicked up by the horses' hooves covered the sky, like a battlefield billowing with yellow smoke, a tense and intense atmosphere.
"Come on! Come on!" Zhang Bei screamed at the top of his lungs, his voice instantly drowned out by the clamor of the crowd, yet it stubbornly carried through. Zhang Tingjian, his camera held high, his eyes fixed on the track, capturing every wonderful moment. His shutter clicked repeatedly, capturing the riders' swift movements and the majestic unity of rider and horse, forever frozen on that small memory card.
Halfway through the race, the situation became increasingly tense and intense, with riders chasing each other, refusing to give in. Just then, a black horse, like a flash of black lightning, stood out from the crowd. Its posture was sturdy, its hooves flying, and its steps were light and powerful. The rider waved his whip, making crisp cracks in the air, urging the horse forward and charging towards the finish line with unstoppable momentum.
When the dark horse crossed the finish line first, the whole audience instantly boiled over. The Tibetans cheered and threw white Hadas, like snowflakes dancing in the sky, to celebrate the birth of this heroic rider.
Reluctant to leave on the way home, promise to meet again
Time flows like water in Bonda, day and night, until the time to return quietly approaches. As I pack my bags, a faint melancholy permeates the room. Xiao Xing folds clothes, her eyes red as she mutters, "I really don't want to leave. This place feels like a paradise, and I haven't had enough."
Po seemed to understand, lying on the trunk, whimpering a few times, his ears drooping. The men silently checked the car, tightening parts, filling the gas tank, their movements slow, their nostalgia evident in every gesture.
As we drove out of town, the scenery outside the car window receded: grasslands, snow-capped mountains, and prayer flags faded into the distance, like a farewell film. We reached a viewing platform on the mountainside and stopped to look back. Bangda lay peacefully in the sunlight, like a fairy in a dream.
Li Fugui sighed, "This trip was incredibly rewarding. The beautiful scenery, the stories, the friendships, they're all priceless." Zhang Nan nodded, flipping through the photos in his camera as memories flooded back. "Yes, I'll have to sort them out when I get back. These are all treasures."
Zhang Tingjian clutched a notebook filled with inspired poems and travelogues. "Bonda has given me a rich mine of creativity. I'll dig deeper next time."
Zhang Bei put his arms around everyone's shoulders, his gaze fixed on the distance. "Bonda has taken root in my heart. This isn't the end, it's the beginning of our next reunion. We promised that one day we'll return to this land and continue our story."