Dainzin Oiser remembers, and will never forget, that it takes two months and nine days to finish perhaps the most important journey in his life -- "walking" with his whole body from his home to Lhasa.

The 41-year-old pilgrim started his trip in mid-August 2008. Following every step, he clasped his hands to forehead, to throat and to heart and then prostrated himself full-length on the ground-- a ritual in Tibetan Buddhism called "kowtow" that believers practice to express their most honest hearts to the Buddha.

He finally arrived in Lhasa, the holy city for all Tibetans, at the end of November.

The distance of about 400 km from Dainzin's home village at Sayga County in southwestern Tibet to Lhasa was measured by more than 160,000 such Tibetan kowtows, as piety and patience grew into a thumb nail-sized black scab on his forehead.

For Dainzin, the scar is a treasure.

"It is called 'Qiagban' in Tibetan. Only those who has finished more than 10,000 kowtows can be given such a gift, but it will not be the size of mine unless they are able to do the kowtows continuously for more than two months," said Dazin, rubbing his Qiagban gently and uttering the Six Words Sutra "Om Mani Padme Hum".

The middle-aged man with a sun-tanned face had a typical pilgrim look, wearing a khaki-colored sweater with broken sleeves, dusty plain trousers and a one-piece olive-green canvas apron with a gray sheepskin lining.

When he was 13, Dainzin became a monk at the Sayga Monastery in Xigaze, one of the most renowned temples of Tibetan Buddhism, where a senior Lama gave him his current name Dainzin Oiser, meaning "carrying forward the power of Buddha." He left the monastery at 34.

Dainzin kept the reasons for his departure from the monastery a secret, but he insisted he "quit from the monastery, but never religious cultivation."

A pilgrimage to Lhasa is a dream for all Tibetans, but for Dainzin, it is more "an obligation, which must be accomplished in this life."

After persuading his parents to agree to leave for Lhasa alone and preparing enough money for the trip, Dainzin started his journey to "help alleviate the suffering for all the people, including those who were killed in the devastating earthquake in May."

"We live on the same land and I have prayed for them all along the trip -- as for my families," he said.

PILGRIM'S BELONGINGS

On the day of Dainzin's departure, his teary-eyed parents and nearly all his fellow villagers came to see him off as a hero -- some gave him 10 yuan (1.46 U.S. dollars) or 20 yuan ( 2.92 U.S. dollars) for the traveling expenses, while others brought him "Hadas," a long, white piece of silk for Tibetans to show their respect.

Dainzin took few belongings -- but a Buddhist sutra book and a black-and-white photo of his parents accompanied him all the way long.

Dainzin also prepared a "pilgrim suit" to protect himself from being injured by the repeated kowtows -- a mask and "wooden gloves," -- palm-sized wooden blocks with rubber bounds that wrap around the hands -- rubber-soled shoes whose toe caps were reinforced with thick black rubber pieces and one-piece canvas aprons with sheep skin lining.

Except for the special shoes he brought from the Sayga Monastery, Dainzin made the other necessities by himself. The whole journey cost him three aprons, seven pairs of gloves and two pairs of shoes.

"Shoes and aprons are most prone to wear during the pilgrimage," he said, pointing at the shoes on his feet. "If they were common shoes, I think I need at least five pairs to wear through the trip."

TEETH OF FAITH

Every year, tens of thousands of pilgrims, like Dainzin, leave home for Lhasa. A story of faith gives them strong motivations to see the journey through to its end.

It is about an old Tibetan woman living in the southwestern Sichuan Province.

After she devoted her best to her family and was supposed to enjoy the life in her remaining years, the woman suddenly decided to realize the dream she had since her childhood -- to finish a pilgrimage to Lhasa.

She conducted a strict kowtow schedule everyday and finished each move with all her heart until she caught a serious disease that endangered her life.

Before her life came to the end, the old woman managed to extract a tooth with a small stone and asked other pilgrims to bring her tooth to the Jokhang Temple, the most renowned monastery in Lhasa, and put it in the cracks of a wooden pole in front of the statue Sakyamuni, founder of Buddhism.

Pilgrims called it the "pole of teeth" as the cracks were full of the teeth of those devotees, who failed to finish their journey, but fulfilled their dreams by showing their piety to Buddha.

"Teeth can survive from time, as our faith to Buddha. I have no fears to death, as the old woman, because we will all be blessed and protected by Buddha in the next life," said Dainzin.

He practiced his loyalty to Buddha with an even stricter pilgrimage timetable. No matter what the weather was like, he kowtowed from 3 a.m. to 9 p.m. every day expect for a short break at around 4:30 p.m. to have the only meal of the day -- about 250 grams of tsampa, some roasted barley with butter.

Then he would chant sutras until midnight before sleeping, which was usually uncomfortable as he had to sleep by the road or under a tree in the sparsely-populated mountainous areas.

In addition, meat, which in Dainzin's mind is humiliation to his piety, has been removed from his menu since he started his pilgrimage.

"It's a challenge like the slopes and dirty water on the road. If I had withdrawn in front of these challenges, why would I have bothered to start the journey?" he said.

But emotional challenges might be another story for Dainzin. The images of his 78-year-old father and 62-year-old mother often appeared in his dreams, though he barely had no time to think of them during the exhausting repetition of kowtows during the day.

"They are old and their health is worrying. Whenever I miss them, I will pray for them," said Dainzin. "They are reluctant to let me do this because they know the trip will be tiring and dangerous sometimes, but they are very clear they can't change my mind, so they became supportive."

Support also come from the devotees who offered Dainzin food and shelters to stay over the night along the way, for which Dainzin said he could only repay with prayer.

Dainzin was also haunted by illness due to the days of toil and poor nutrition supply. He even had to have his schedule suspended for one day when he was suffered from serious diarrhea.

"I felt extremely lonely at that time, but I had never thought of quitting," he said.

The company of his partner, another pilgrim who joined him later in the city of Xigaze, brought a great consolation to Dainzin. The fatigue of a whole-day kowtow faded way when they could take a rest for a cup of butter tea, sharing their understanding of life and Buddhism.

"We encouraged each other when we were extremely tired and couldn't carry on. He helped me to make my dream come true," said Dainzin.

NO DESTINATION ON PILGRIMAGE

When the grand white palace of Potala, which only appeared in dreams before, finally greeted his eyes, Dainzin burst into tears. He chose to spend his first night in Lhasa by sleeping nearby the bounding wall of place with many other devotees.

The next day, with a prayer wheel in hand, he joined in the crowds to walk along the tradition routes around the Jokhang Temple and the Potala Palace -- religious ritual called circumambulation.

For Dainzin, circumambulation, like the Tibetan kowtow, is a way to talk to Buddha. The inner power grows during the circulating, which will bring him more happiness in the next life.

But Lhasa was not the final destination for Dainzin's pilgrimage. In his spare time, he worked as a porter to earn the money for his next trip to Kangrinboqe, the highest peak of the Gangdese Mountains in Ngari of western Tibet, which means "the holy mountain" in Tibetan.

"Before that, I will go home to see my parents. I miss them so much," said Dainzin.