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http://business.theage.com.au/a-torched-tibet-shows-through-smoke-and... headline: A torched Tibet shows through smoke and mirrors Jim Rose April 30, 2008 Page 1 of 2 AS THE faintly absurd Olympic torch relay looks likely to fall off the lead-up agenda for future Games, China's inability to conduct itself appropriately as a major world power has been starkly exposed. The error is less in the knee-jerk reactions to the most recent events in Tibet, but in the policy foundations and power plays that underlie them. Two articles in the April issue of the Far Eastern Economic Review pinpoint the fundamental weaknesses of China's approach in Tibet. The first, by Australian academic Ben Hillman, offers insights into China's skewed agenda in Tibet. Hillman details the remarkable economic support Beijing provides to Tibet. State transfers to Tibet are budgeted at about $US10 billion ($A10.7 billion) between 2006 and 2010. That's not including the huge Golmud-Lhasa railway line, said to have cost about $US4 billion, but does include about 180 other large infrastructure projects. This effort has generated a lot of economic activity. Since 2000, annualised gross domestic product (GDP) growth in the Tibet Autonomous Region has been about 12%. Last year, GDP growth jumped 14% on the previous year. It is these numbers that China's Tibetan administrators point to as confirmation of their benevolent impact in the region. There is of course some validity in this argument, but it also tends to highlight China's insensitivity to Tibetan culture and society. In short, good numbers in Tibet are not in themselves indicators of success. Problems with employment for indigenous Tibetans remain and it can be argued that Tibet's economic boom has benefited the locals less than it has immigrants from elsewhere in China. There is also the sense that many Tibetans would like to see a better balance between economic momentum driven from Beijing and Tibetan cultural independence and freedom. As such, the numbers tell only part of the story and actually ignore the larger truth that China has failed to win hearts and minds in Tibet, even as it has swelled some pockets. A second essay in the Far Eastern Economic Review, by Hong Kong academic Willy Lam, exposes the personal issues underpinning China's hard line on Tibet. It is well known that President Hu Jintao cut his political teeth as the TAR Party secretary. What is less widely known is that Hu has positioned many of his former colleagues from his Communist Youth League days in leadership positions in western China, including in Tibet, where Zhang Qingli reigns. ... (cont)

Some people are scared of snakes. Some cannot stand spiders. I hate flies. Not the small and agile run-of-the-mill houseflies, but those big, old, fat, plump and juicy black gadflies, who clumsily bump into things with a loud and annoying thump. As fate would have it, those are exactly the kind of flies which every day kept me company, and formed an inseparable part of my life in Tibet. My room is on the second floor of the house, with big windows facing south. When the weather is fine, the whole room is sunny and warm from morning to mid afternoon, just the way flies love it. I have never quite figured out how exactly the big flies got into the room. Most likely they squeezed in through cracks in the old windows. But I never wanted to find out, out of fear of stumbling upon a mausoleum filled with mummified flies. So every morning I woke up to the sound of several big old flies bumping their merry way from one windowpane to another. After the first several days of letting flies get their way, I decided, out of sheer species pride, that I could not let a human be defeated by flies,no matter how fat these flies are. So I put myself together and went to war against the hordes of huge Tibetan flies. On the matters of tactics, I had to devise proper combatant methods. Flyswatters would squash the flies into a disgusting mess. No way. So I settled on my own patented approach in five easy steps: 1) Tear a piece of toilet paper to the size of a big index card and slowly tiptoe towards the target fly. 2) Swiftly but lightly cover the fly with the paper and pin it against the windowpane. 3) Quickly twist the paper into a thin small pouch containing the fly. 4) Tie a loose knot on the paper pouch. 5) Dispose of the fly in a manner befitting your mood. This toilet paper method was quite effective for the slow-reacting Tibetan flies. Probably they are oxygen-deprived , a friend joked. Catching flies had thus become my favorite way to start a fresh day. On average I caught 10 to 12 flies a day, with a record of 26. So in the three months of my first stay in this Buddhist land, I must have ended the lives of more than one thousand flies. 2. Unfair competition in business A Tibetan friend once asked me to translate when he invited an American social development expert to a traditional Tibetan meal. The meal was really good (much better than those Indian-flavored-Tibetan-meals I had in the US), but a dozen flies were hovering above the dishes all the time, occasionally landing on both the eaters and the food. My friend shouted something to the waitress in Tibetan and then whispered to me: I asked the waitress to wave away the flies but she just won't listen. If the American guy asks, you can just say that because Tibetans are Buddhists, they won't harm even flies. That always works. I nodded. The American gentleman didn't say anything about the flies, but he didn't eat much either. The Han owners of small restaurants often muse as to why they are more successful in attracting foreigners to their business than their Tibetan competitors. Among other things, Tibetans don't kill flies! There are flies everywhere, in the kitchen, on the food, on the plates, everywhere. How can picky foreigners stand that? They will certainly go to eat in Tibetan restaurants at least once, but after that they will come back to my place. To be fair, I have to point out that flies can also be easily found in Han restaurants, but customers there can take comfort at the presence of flyswatters, pest sprays, electronic pest killers, and various other fly control devices. The most comfortable havens for flies are, naturally, the Buddhist monasteries. I once peered into the monks' kitchen in the famous Jokhang Monastery. The brim of the big wok where their meals were prepared was blackened by swarms of flies, and big, contented mice roamed leisurely on the floor. I would not want to offend the monks, but I certainly was happy that I didn't have to eat in the monastery. Actually, there are many Tibetans that do not adhere too closely to the no-killing rule when it comes to flies. Once, when I visited a Tibetan family, the hostess opened the door for us while still holding a flyswatter. The hostess, a medical doctor in her 40s, proudly announced to both her Han and Tibetan guests: There are two things I absolutely do not allow in my home: mice and flies! If one gets in, one will get killed! Ab-so-lu-te-ly! I don't care what others say! Another time the young boss of an entertainment center joked: if you don't kill them first, they will kill you. Later, my questioning on his skillful fly-killing apparently surprised a mid-aged Tibetan museum curator: Does it bother you (that I kill flies)? Are you a Buddhist? I don't believe it at all and none of my family believes either. (Quoted material fromhttp://www.oycf.org/Perspectives/9_123100/tibet.htm ) Well, as usual I have no idea what your point is - more racist Tibetan bashing, I suppose -  but I imagine that a lot of people are happy to sit anywhere in a restaurant as long as they don't have to hear that LT Lee guy babbling about some marginally relevant topic...