By Mridu Khullar
As political activists go, Tenzin Tsundue is an unflappable man. He’s calm and reflective, he doesn’t force his agenda down your throat, and he’s the kind of person you can tell has spent many a quiet moment in silence…thinking, searching, exploring…for answers that can only come from within. He’s deeply committed to his life’s one ambition–to see a free Tibet–and his signature red bandana, which he’s vowed not to take off until that dream is realized, is a constant reminder of that purpose. But while extremely passionate about the struggle for a free Tibet, Tsundue is a mostly reasonable man who is open and accepting of viewpoints that oppose his.
Which is why it comes as a surprise when during the middle of our conversation, the subject of the Chinese railway into Lhasa gets him all riled up.
Called an engineering marvel and promoted by the Chinese media as a means of bringing economic stability to an otherwise remote region, this railway into Chinese-occupied Tibet is the world’s highest railway line. Tibetans in exile, however, have been demonstrating against it furiously, saying that it is nothing but a move on the part of China to destroy Tibetan identity.
“They are sending in a huge number of Chinese into Tibet through the railway,” says Tsundue. “Six million Tibetans cannot resist 200 million Chinese. The land will be flooded and the Tibetans will be suffocated.”
In 1950, Tibet was occupied by China and while the Tibetan Government-in-Exile views the current rule in Tibet as “colonial and illegitimate,” the Chinese government maintains that Tibet has been an indivisible part of China for the last seven hundred years.
When nine years after the occupation, the Tibetan leader, the fourteenth Dalai Lama fled into exile, the Indian government offered him asylum in Dharamshala. In the time since then, thousands of Tibetans have secretly crossed the Chinese border and trekked over the Himalayas and into this community of exile to join their leader.
And it is here, in this community of exile, that a new Tibet has been created. One that accepts the old and embodies the new. One that holds on to old values while still changing with the times. One that even while dreaming of a free Tibet, has learned to move on.
Refugee resettlement
Yangtso Kyap*. Twenty-nine. Ph.D. Lives in a posh colony of New Delhi with her husband and two children. Wants to finish her education so that she can get a higher-paying job.
Yeshi Wangmo*. Thirty-six. Nun. Spent nine years as a political prisoner before being released in 2001 and coming to India. Wants to get proper healthcare to erase the scars of the last decade.
Dawa Tsering*. Eighteen. Student. Ran away from a life of hopelessness and poverty. Wants to learn English and get a proper education so that she can make a life for herself.
Three women. Three stories. Different lives. Different aspirations. They couldn’t be more dissimilar. They’re all the same. They are the face of Tibet in exile. And their stories are not unique.
Approximately 2,000 Tibetans are said to arrive in the Reception Center for Tibetan refugees in McLeod Ganj (also known as Upper Dharamshala) each year. Once here, they’re given health treatment and an option to go to school, learn new skills and become active members of the community. Children, who form the bulk of the new arrivals, are sent to one of the many Tibetan Children’s Village schools throughout the country where they are provided with free education, meals and daily supplies until they graduate.
Adults above the age of eighteen have the option of going to the Tibetan Transit School in Dharamshala, where they can learn English or get vocational training that will help them quickly set up base and earn a living.
Monks and nuns are given admission in to the monasteries around India, and elderly people above the age of sixty-five are sent to old people’s homes, depending on the availability of space in the overcrowded facilities.
Several of the refugees, who often undertake week-long treks over the mountains in extreme temperatures–developing frostbite, or sometimes even losing limbs–are taken into immediate care. Due to their lack of resistance for problems that aren’t common to Tibet, they sometimes also end up with diseases such as chicken pox, for which they’re treated at the Reception Center or taken to the Tibetan hospital in the vicinity.
After they are fit enough, their first priority is then to get the audience of His Holiness, the Dalai Lama, who has a special time fixed for meetings with recently arrived refugees, many of whom have come here for the sole purpose of meeting their spiritual leader.
Social and political complications
When I first arrive in McLeod Ganj, I find myself overwhelmed by the amount of social and political contradictions present here. Several people insist that Tibet has always been a part of China and Tibetan independence is a non-issue, since Tibetans inside Tibet don’t even want autonomy. Yet, I hear story after story of courage and struggle, of people risking their lives to cross borders and trekking for days in extreme conditions to get to India.
Tsundue, who has been born and raised in this community of exile, is a vocal opponent of the Chinese occupation of Tibet. He came under the spotlight in 2002 when during a visit from the Prime Minister of the People’s Republic of China to India; he climbed up the scaffolding of the Oberoi Towers in Mumbai and hung a twenty-foot “Free Tibet” banner from the fourteenth floor.
This was not the first time Tsundue had put himself in danger for the Tibetan cause. After graduating from university, he crossed the Himalayas on foot and went into Tibet to see the struggle from within. He was arrested by the border police and spent three months in prison, where he says he was interrogated and then finally sent back to India.
Now he is the most visible face of the Tibetan youth, with his outspoken criticism of the Chinese policies in Tibet and his absolute refusal to accept the Dalai Lama’s middle-way approach.
“His Holiness says it doesn’t matter to us whether it’s a Tibetan leader or a Chinese leader, whether it’s a Tibetan state or a Chinese state,” he says. “For me, it matters. For me, it matters that we have our own country, our own leader, our own government and our own foreign policy.” Only that, he asserts, is complete freedom.
Tsundue’s concerns are understandable. But are they practical? As the situation currently stands, there are more Han Chinese in Tibet today than Tibetans. So if independence is granted to Tibet, what happens to the 7.5 million ordinary Chinese folk? Must they convert? Must they leave? Or must they accept a regime that is alien to them?
Faith in exile
The room is dark and damp, with the only light in it coming from a small opening in the ceiling, but the atmosphere inside is a happy contrast. The monk and two nuns sitting in front of me are making fun of each other’s broken English and laughing constantly as they tell us about the prayer rituals they just finished.
Like the opening in the ceiling through which a ray of sunlight falls, these monks and nuns have lit up every dark corner of their arduous lives by creating small outlets of hope. When they’re not reading mantras or performing pujas (religious rituals), they’re learning to write in English, cooking for new friends and opening their homes and hearts to new possibilities.
Foreign visitors and Tibetan monks walking down roads together, shopping together and eating together are common sights here. They exchange few words, but many precious moments as they get to know about each other’s cultures and lives. When they initially arrive in Dharamshala, many of the monks and nuns are keen on entering into the monasteries, but prefer to first learn the language and spend some time getting acquainted with the cultures and customs of this new face of Tibet.
While most of them prefer to get admission into the monasteries in North India due to the cooler climate there, the monasteries are packed already, and hence some monasteries now require the monks to take entrance exams, testing their religious learning and experience. Because of this, the new arrivals are encouraged to first go to school and get used to their surroundings before entering the monasteries.
Life here is not easy. While some of the new arrivals’ income comes from the prayers and rituals that they perform for the locals, a lot of it also comes in the form of donations from foreigners they’ve met during their travel here. The $15 that a monk receives each month from his American sponsor has allowed him to create a makeshift wooden floor and buy curtains for a room that before was nothing more than a dirt floor and four barren walls.
But while activists and NGOs continue to try and get more and more attention through protests, rallies and events, the most effective medium so far to get attention to the Tibetan issue has been Buddhism and the Dalai Lama’s teachings.
Tsundue, however, feels that in exile true Buddhism seems to have taken a backseat and the culture of ritual has gained a lot of significance. “A lot of people come here wanting to do something to show that they’re practicing Buddhism. And in the search for doing something, the rituals have become the end, instead of the tools to reach that end.” A practicing Buddhist himself, Tsundue doesn’t believe in lighting butter lamps or performing parikramas (walking along religious paths) around the temple. “The real practice of Buddhism,” he explains, “lies in suffering and sacrifice.”
The real faces of the struggle
Up a long, winding road from McLeod Ganj lies the Tibetan Children’s Village in Dharamshala. It’s home to thousands of children, some recent arrivals from Tibet, others children of other refugee families in the area.
The Tibetan Children’s Village schools were set up to provide a home and education for orphan children who’d lost families and parents during journeys from Tibet to India, and now has branches in many parts of the country.
Several children who share living spaces create small families, and work to help out the “mother” (matron) with daily chores, such as making tea and other household work. During the day they go to school, where they are taught in both English and Tibetan. In addition to the school-going children, there are also babies, some as young as two-weeks-old, who have been smuggled out of Tibet by parents with the hope of a better life.
While private donations do contribute to the funding for the school, the United States Government is one of the major donors to this project.
We walk down through the school one hot summer afternoon and join in a game of football. Behind us in a small classroom, students are reciting their afternoon prayers. The children are happy here. This, in all respects, is now their home away from home.
Non-Government Organizations (NGOs)
Due to the unique nature of this refugee community, and the various challenges that have come up as a result of it, various NGOs have been set up in the region to meet the various needs. Some of them try to raise awareness about the Tibetan issues among the foreign community; many of them work with recent arrivals from Tibet; and almost all help keep the culture and community of Tibetans alive.
The Louisiana Himalayan Association (LHA) is one such NGO. The brainchild of an American and a Tibetan, it helps bridge the gap between Tibetans and the rest of the world by training local Tibetans in different areas of skill, such as language, computers, cooking and even yoga. Foreigners who’ve come to Dharamshala often end up volunteering here for weeks or months taking classes, especially English speaking and computer training. Tibetans, who have little money and resources, are encouraged to take as many classes as many times a day for free.
Foreigners too take classes, get massages or learn yoga, and the income generated from these activities helps LHA cover the costs of operation.
Does non-violence work?
So far, the Tibetans have been intent on continuing on the path of non-violent resistance. But flutters from within the Tibetan youth have now raised a very important question: Is the Tibetan youth getting militant? Is it possible for them to maintain the non-violent stature as the rest of the world continues to use violence as a means to achieving goals?
“There is an immediate envy when Tibetans look at the Palestinians throwing rocks at the Israelis and therefore provoking them, and most importantly, drawing attention from the world,” says Tsundue. “However, we are hopeful that the vision of a peaceful, free Tibet is possible.”
But, he adds, if tomorrow the Dalai Lama isn’t there to guide the youth and the situation continues to deteriorate, that loss of hope may act as a catalyst for violence. “Some members of the Tibetan youth may feel that now there is no hope, that everything is finished. Then they may think that if I’m not getting a free Tibet, I won’t allow China to have it either.”
And with that, he says, would be the end of the last story of non-violence in the world.
“This cause is not just the struggle of six million Tibetans,” Tsundue says repeatedly. “It is the cause of the health of the spirit of the world. If the world wants non-violence to survive, if the world wants reassurance of non-violence as a possible means to find solutions to social-political issues, then it must support Tibet.”
*These women’s names have been changed for their protection.
Mridu Khullar is an international freelance writer with over 200 articles in print and on the Web. She has been published in several countries including the United States, Canada, England, Australia, India and Bahrain. Mridu’s credits include articles and essays in almost seventy publications, including ELLE, Yahoo.com, Chicken Soup for the Soul, New Woman, Writer’s Digest, Women’s Health & Fitness, ePregnancy, Girls’ Life and The Times of India.
