My name is Seg Lhaton and I am a weathered Tibetan soldier stationed in Miran, a city along the Silk Road. I am old, and finally have been allowed to return to my home after 25 long years of service. In my years as a soldier, I have experienced many wars and hardships, but my warm thoughts of home have kept me going. I have been a soldier for most of my life, away on various missions to accomplish. I was able to return to my farm to marry and have children. I regret being away so much, but I didn’t have much of a choice in my future. Because I traveled far into dangerous places, it was hard and time-consuming to travel all the way back home. My son has decided to follow in my footsteps and also take on the life of a Tibetan soldier.
Since I have proven myself and was stationed along the Silk Road, I had various tasks to watch over everyday. The station in Miran is very dry and sandy, so to grow the necessary crops I had to watch over the irrigation of the crops from the branches of the river. In the summer, this river rises and drowns the crop so it was my duty to keep this from occurring. Along with growing crops, I also managed other farming chores. I wished that I was doing the farm work on my own farm at home with my wife, however I have learned to make the best of my situation here in Miran. The work I did there is monotonous and unfulfilling. There were hardly any travelers that pass along the road anymore to entertain us so there are a few other soldiers who can dance and play instruments to pass the extra time. The fort itself at Miran is a large trapezoid that is made up of many small rooms. The walls are made of stamped clay and wood. We don’t have a formal way of disposing of garbage so a pile is made in each soldier’s room (about a ten foot square) and when the odor becomes unbearable a wall is erected to block off the garbage from the living quarters and eventually used as a toilet. There are watchtowers at the fort with men keeping lookout at all times. I often relieved the watchmen from their duty at night so they could sleep. We use a system of fires to alert the rest of the fort if there is a threat to the fort approaching. I spent a lot of time telling stories of my years in battle to the young, eager soldiers. I tell them gripping tales of traveling through treacherous mountains to battle the Chinese, and how hard it was just to get by when traveling so far and for so long. I try to simply tell them my memories of what happened with as much detail as possible, to both entertain and the hope of striking interest among them. Now that there are not many travelers passing through the south end of the Silk Road, there aren’t really conflicts that we got into. I hope to help the younger generation of soldiers to learn from past mistakes and to learn that even though day-to-day it is boring, that fulfilling their duties is important and valued just as much as if they were in war.
After being away for so many years, I wished I was home at my farm but at the same time I knew that the fort at Miran is my home.
