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Archive for October, 2009
Every day I meet women and men who have walked out of Tibet – some as recently as last week, some many years ago like our friend. It’s a gruelling journey, taken in the fall usually, before winter sets in in the Himalayas.
Escaping Tibet 1999
It’s like another world to us…one we’ll never understand. But we try our best to learn. There’s so much sadness surrounding the young Tibetans and their stories…it’s tangible. I feel sorrowful in my heart as I write this. Yet most of them also have a light-heartedness about them, laughing easily. They are able to hold both the lightness and the sorrow within them. That’s an ability humans seem to have.
The refugees walk during the night, the safest time, and try to rest during the day. The size of the groups vary widely, some are mixed gender, some men only and some women. The length of time to get to India or Nepal varies widely also, depending on how circuitous a route is taken to avoid the Chinese military. They seem to all have a paid guide.
The trekkers start out with food, but usually run out before their trip is over. Sometimes they are fortunate enough to be able to buy food on the way or to purchase a sheep or goat from a nomad.
About a year ago we read in our newspaper that 2 young Tibetan nuns had been shot and killed trying to escape from Tibet and it was witnessed by American hikers. Last Friday 4 women were killed trying to leave. There was a 12 hour sit in on a platform outside the main gate of HH the Dalai Lama’s temple, and later in the day, a candlelight march down the main street to the temple.
The sight of this long procession, led by chanting monks, and made up of many Tibetans and a few foreign visitors was very sobering. Don made good point when he said the Chinese government needs to be embarrassed about the deaths.
Where to begin? We’ve been here in North India, in H.H. the Dalai Lama’s town, for almost a week now. The time’s gone quickly, the first days being taken up by recovering from very heavy cold viruses, also elevation sickness on my part. The pills & tea our Tibetan doc friend supplied us with helped tremendously.
We were able to take in a morning of teachings by H.H. the Dalai Lama with our friend & her young son last Thursday. Security was very tight, both the Tibetan & foreigners were body searched & bags checked just inside the main gate of the temple. We were split into Tibetan & visitors lines, then male & female to be checked.
The atmosphere in the courtyard once we arrived was quiet, expectant; we all waited quietly seated on the ground. He taught for 2 hours, with translation from a script for some of the time. We could listen through earphones tuned to an fm radio station. We only had one radio though as our friend forgot to bring hers for us.
Hearing & experiencing the energy of H.H. on his home turf was a very moving experience. His message, as always was to help others, & to search for balance in all things. At the end, we craned our knecks to watch him come down the stairs & into a waiting car, to be driven back to his residence a few yards away.
Being here is to be in the presence of other – it’s an ancient town like no other because of the presence of the Dalai Lama & his government in exhile. It’s called ‘Little Lasa’ after the capital of Tibet. It’s full of Tibetans, Indian shopkeepers & many western tourists.
Each day we hear about people who have ‘come out of Tibet’ recently or in the past couple of years. Some don’t make it. I will write moe about that next time. Now we’re off to our 1st day of English tutoring – small conversational groups in the early evening each week night at The Tibetan Hope Center.
He greeted me with a pleasant ‘Namaste’, and he had such a beautiful smile, so I didn’t realize at first that he was a tout. I guess I should have known & not replied. That’s my basic technique – don’t look, don’t speak, don’t engage in any way & they usually leave quickly.
Touts are men who ‘befriend’ you on the street & try to get you to buy products or services. They work for stores, including government gift shops & tour agencies. Even shopkeepers, while not official touts, may be trying to sell tours for a commission.
Which are more troublesome, the beggars or the touts? I guess that depends on where you are, & on how you feel at that particular moment.
Oddly, there haven’t been that many beggars around Paharganj during this week. I don’t usually have trouble with them; I give to women, especially with young children or if they’re old. But when I’m tired, or when too many hit me up in a row, I tend to get on a role & lose my powers of discrimination.
Now up north in H.H. the Dalai Lama’s town, there are many more beggars, of Indian descent. When we visited the monastery guesthouse we’ll soon be moving into it was very much like running a gauntlet walking up the very narrow roadway running from the main street to the monastery. I made the mistake of stopping to get money out for a young woman (think it was a woman) with a glowing face & a bandaged hand. I couldn’t get my hands on the money as it had become trapped in the lining of my bag, & within a moment I was almost surrounded by beggars. I joked with Don that I wanted to wear a bag on my head when I went up & down the laneway, but I wasn’t really kidding. Then I said blinders would be better (like horses wear). Don replied that I needed internal blinders; so true! So what I plan to do is keep my head down, & to research & give money to the association for Indian street people. (I believe the Tibetan refugees are better looked after by the Tibetan government in exhile).
Once you’ve been caught in the milk scam though, you’ll never be caught again. Women carrying babies work for grocery stores. They ask you for money to buy milk ‘not for me, for my baby’. The dried milk costs much more than you’d likely donate. They then sell it back to the store & get a cut. This happened to me 2 years ago in Dharamsala & it’s annoying to say the least!
Tipping is something I don’t do all that well. I always want to give too much, but I’m somewhat better this trip. My philosophy has been ‘I have so much & they so little, why not give them a great tip’. But Don, with more travel experience than me, says that’s not necessarily the way to go, that hugely overtipping sets up a situation for other tourists & may not be the best use of our funds. Giving to local charities may be better.
The downside of Diwali in Delhi, I’m sorry to say, outweighs the upside. But that’s just my opinion!
The decorations are beautiful: live marigold garlands hung from the stairways of our hotel, detailed flower designs with votive candles burning in them at the top of the stairs, a much appreciated invite to a party on the rooftop dining room from Brij, the owner were all lovely.
But unfortunately the fire crackers go off from dawn to midnight in a never ending series. It makes you jump & feels quite unsafe to be walking nearby, especially when some of the fire cracker lighters are very young boys (supervised by their Dad, but still…).
Our hotel Diwali party began early in the evening with offers of appetizers, and alcoholic drinks (a surprise since the owner is a devote and traditional Hindu and does not offer liquor on the menu). The family and staff were very gracious, and the other guests friendly.
So far so good…but surprise, surprise, there was Brij setting off extremely loud fire crackers in a very small space at the end of the balcony facing the street. They hurt my ears, & when an Israeli woman pointed out the piles of boxes still remaining to be shot off, I knew I had to leave to preserve my hearing (I already have tinitus), & my nerves!
Today, Sunday, it feels much quieter. We walked out early & there weren’t many people on the streets. The revelers are resting!
This quote, attributed to both Budhism and to Christianity, is so very true. As I begin to adjust to being in India and await the unfolding of my purpose here, I feel the weight of the ‘unfinished business’ I’ve brought along with me. I’m also aware from moment to moment of how incredibly foreign this culture is to me and how I look at it through the filter of my western eyes.
When I awaken in the middle of the night and can’t go back to sleep, as happened last night with jet lag still affecting me, I think of my business I left behind, in the very capable hands of my team, to take this sabbatical, of my relatives at home, and of my ailing friend. I haven’t disconnected from home yet on the one hand, and on the other hand I don’t know what the next weeks will bring on my journey as a volunteer English tutor.
In the daytime, the anxieties and ‘not knowing’ of the night recede, and I enjoy myself, visiting a few tourist sights. Yesterday was Connaught Circle, the upscale shopping area just one metro stop from the old Paharganj district where we’re staying, and today we saw the Red Fort, rode through the markets of Old Delhi in a bicycle rickshaw and ate in a restaurant populated mostly by locals.
Old Delhi, the original city, is the Muslim section of the city. It’s a very chaotic, very vital area, full of shoppers and workers, cars, auto rickshaws and bicycle rickshaws. (Note: Bicycle rickshaws have been outlawed in Kerala, South India because they’re considered inhumane by the communist government there, but they play a vital part in moving people and goods through the narrow lanes of Old Delhi.
All for now – I accomplished a lot today on only 4 hours of sleep but I’m fading fast!
I’ll post later on Touts and Beggars and How to Pace Oneself as a Tourist in India
