On seeing a 'simple monk', nowhere to sit, and exile

A quick post to update you all at our recent and exciting activities in McLeod Ganj.

His Holiness, 14th the Dalai Lama (who calls himself a 'simple monk') happens to be giving a teaching while we are here. This is a very random and special event as the number of teachings he gives are very few now due to his age.

Alicia and I jumped at the chance to do this which required getting a security pass from the Tibetan-government-in-exile (passport check, photos, etc...) and then staking out some ground at the main temple with some cardboard, and the purchase of a small FM radio to listen to the English translation of the Dalai speaking.

Long story short (as I don't have much time at the moment), we got into the teaching after a long security check we made our way up to the English translation section to find it packed to the gills with people. After a while we found our piece of cardboard (with our names on it) that had been so kindly cut in half but another compassionate English-speaker. Thanks! Sad, and not actually surprising. We squished in for the two or so hour morning session which was actually done in English.

Alicia's description of the teaching, and especially the Dalai Lama will be much better than mine. But I will say that hearing him speak is always amazing (this is my second time hearing him speak, the first was here:



in 2000. As usual he is funny, warm to listen to, and deceptively wise. We got to see the Dalai Lama walk out, which made Alicia super happy and emotional.

On our way out during the lunch break Alicia was nearly knocked over by a Tibetan monk making a run for the stairs and myself bowled over by an older Tibetan man wearing huge shoes (everyone else had their shoes off) and holding a big cane. Classic.

A quick word / perspective about where we are. As we've said, McLeod Ganj is where the Dalai Lama lives and there is a sizable Tibetan community. What is not obvious about that these people are in exile. They cannot go home.

Why? A quick background, forgive the political rant:

* These are people who's homeland, an international recognized independent country, was stolen by the Chinese in the late 1940s. The international community essentially did nothing about this.

* millions of Tibetans died as a result of murder, famine, etc...

* nearly all of their monasteries and associated libraries, works of art, etc... were destroyed.

* those who remain in Tibet suffer from various forms of persecution by the Chinese government (religious, economic, etc...) and our being outnumbered by Chinese immigrants into Tibet from the east.

Those who either can't stand living under the Communist yoke, fear arrest, or what to practice their religion without interference can try and leave. This usually means literal escape from Tibet over the Himalaya with outdoor gear that we wouldn't wear on an autumn hike. During this crossing their is the risk of death by weather, murder by Chinese patrols, or being turned over to the Chinese by Nepalese or Indian border guards. Once someone makes it out they typically cannot go back without risk of arrest, and the arrest of family members who didn't leave. Once they arrive they are also arriving with what they carry on their backs and whatever money they managed to keep away from various officials.

So as we walk around this beautiful place, most all the Tibetans we see, the Dalai Lama included can never go back to their homeland. Exile is a word that is very powerful, but that power is not always obvious until you stop and think about it.

I'm typing rapidly so I can go attend a second cooking class from a Tibetan fellow named Sangje. He told us stories at our last class about how he can never go home to see his parents and seven brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles... being confronted by the hard realities of the world while making momos. All rather bizarre.

I'm sure Alicia will have more to tell on the subject. We both visited the Tibetan Museum here, which got her crying and me nearly so. It is one of the worlds sad, sad tragedies. And one that is hard to confront in your brain unless you are here.

Anyway, enough sadness for now, I'm off to go make Tibetan bread!

And in more bright news, we are leaving tomorrow for Solan as I've finally made contact with my host family from my volunteer stint in 2000. If all goes well we'll get to spend part of Sunday with them and have a real Indian family moment, and a large dose of nostalgia for me. A few days after that we're back to Delhi and then off to Thailand!