Edition: U.S. / Global  From a Chinese Cell, A Lama's Influence
Remains Undimmed  Published: February 23, 2003  It is dawn at
the Litang Monastery, and Tibetan spirituality seems to be alive
and well, if slightly disheveled.  As a brilliant Venus fades in
the rising sun, the 300 monks straggle to their prayer stations,
chants mingling with trumpet calls in the thin crisp air. Dozens
of robed novices, many no older than 12, stream through the
temples, rubbing their eyes as they start lighting endless rows
of yak-butter candles.  Even on the commercial main street of
this remote mountain crossroads, evidence of rapid social change
is countered by strong displays of ethnic pride.  Former yak
herders, now earning cash at construction jobs, strut the
sidewalk wearing not the latest Chinese styles displayed on
television, but flamboyant versions of traditional Tibetan garb.
The men sport towering hats fashioned from fox pelts, or coif
their hair into elaborate spikes, braided with ivory rings. At
their belts, they