Zhangmu. Gateway to Tibet with a massive concrete archway welcoming visitors to China. Nothing coy there. The police and immigration officials—all Han Chinese—are dressed in smart green uniforms and wear neckties. The only thing is that they tend to look very young, something they feel compelled to redress by wearing fierce expressions. We wait endlessly for our turn in line, shuffling up slowly. When it's my turn at the counter I try a greeting I learnt from a Chinese phrase book on the internet. "Ni hao".
The glowering face behind the plate glass registers surprise and then a weak smile spreads slowly across it. "Ni hao", he replies politely. The other officials walk over to his station, curious.
"Ni hao," I try again. Grins in return this time. Hell, it works—even with the Chinese. I then Ni haoed my way past the now smiling guards into occupied Tibet.