Going is good to exciting at dama festival horse race
By Zhu Linyong (China Daily)
Updated: 2004-08-12 09:32

Fierce race contest

The start of the race was only seconds from the off. As the chief referee's signal gun fired a loud "crack," 12 horses flashed forward from the starting line which was formed by cobbles. This was to act as the finishing line, too.

A great dust cloud formed as the hooves of the horses thundered along with great strides on the dry earth.

And the rapid, thumping hoofbeats made the audiences excited and nervous. The young riders blew a whistle in sharp blast while wielding the whip in their hands, urging their horses to go faster and faster to get ahead of others. The crowd let out loud cries in a local dialect every time a rider surpassed others to take the lead.

The race track is about 1,000 metres so the final, at 3,000 metres, was to be three laps.

"For these young kids, this race is definitely a test of courageous heroism, tenacity and wisdom," said Luojie, a Tibetan middle school teacher who used to be a contestant in the great horse race. On the track, a fierce battle for supremacy was taking place.

Sometimes, two or three horses came to close to each other and several women in the crowd - perhaps sisters or girlfriends of the riders - let out high pitched shrills as their nerves got the better of them.

During one heat a young rider was hurt in a collision with another horse, the contest was stopped and the rider was taken away for medical treatment.

For each stage of the race, a yellow paint mark was stamped on the buttocks of the leading race horses. The more yellow marks a horse bears, the higher award the rider would receive.

After three rounds of races, the winners and losers were determined by a group of nine judges.

The contest ended at around 13:00 pm.

But the judges had had difficulty following the final heat. In an unusual move, judges called upon photo journalists to show them images taken with digital cameras to find out and decide who came where and who won.

Before the award ceremony the costume parade began.

At least 20 song and dance groups from the towns, monasteries, nunneries, schools and local government departments marched around another larger sports ground which lies to the north of the race track.

The parade was a pageant of beautiful clothes, hairstyles and a showcase of singing and dancing skills.

But the most welcomed members of this parade were those who delivered on-horseback performances with traditional masks and who sang folk tunes and the lamas from nearby Buddhist monasteries who performed Buddhist rituals and showed some Buddhist relics to the audiences sitting around the sports ground.

The parade and performances lasted for about an hour. Finally, the performers settled in the sports ground in rows.

Then came the award-giving for the horse racing champions and the closing ceremony of the whole festival. Six contestants were to receive awards.

The top winner would receive 800 yuan (US$97) in cash from the organizer of the race.

I was told the rider would immediately hand his cash over to the school where he studies to pay for tuition fees. The winnings could cover the cost for several school years.

A rider called Badain Tashi, 16, from Kharmey Town won first prize this year. Runner-up Tsetop was from the same town.Badianzhaxi began riding only four years ago. He trained for the race during weekends, while during the week he studied at Kharmey Township Middle School.

"I did the best I could and believed I would win the race even before it started. But my parents are happier. They must be proud of me. And they do not have to pay my tuition fees for quite some time," he said.

A local official declared the end of the festival.

But it seemed people were reluctant to leave the happy atmosphere of the event and many hung around soaking up the last good-time vibes that had carried on the breeze during the last five days.

Ngawang, our Tibetan driver, whispered to me: "Do not believe the official's words. The party has not even begun yet!"

That evening, the crowd regrouped in the sports ground for a vast party of eating, drinking, singing and dancing. Sleep came very late - in fact way into the small hours - for most.

What a pity that we had to leave for the hotel that was located in another part of the city and did not have a chance to share with the local people what was obviously going to be a joyful evening.

Sitting in the bumping, winding minivan as we rushed back to Lhasa, I made my mind up firmly: I will be back some day to see the Dama Festival from the beginning to the end.

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