From Jeremy Page in Dharamsala
EVERY beauty pageant comes with its requisite dose of melodrama: temper tantrums, lost tiaras and controversial disqualifications.
But this year’s Miss Tibet contest took the customary histrionics to new heights when it opened yesterday in Dharamsala, the Indian town where the Dalai Lama has lived since fleeing his homeland.
On the eve of the competition, one entrant was ordered to withdraw because she serves in a covert Tibetan unit of the Indian Army specialising in high-altitude combat. Pema Choedon, the soldier turned beauty queen, was so upset that she had a panic attack and was taken to hospital.
There was further controversy yesterday when the swimsuit event was opened to the public for the first time, much to the dismay of elders in the exiled Tibetan community.
Although only five women took part, the organiser — a flamboyant 36-year-old photographer named Lobsang Wangyal — was undeterred. He said that any publicity was good publicity: “This is a chance for young Tibetan women to express what they feel and aspire to in front of the world”.
The entrants included a part-time model from Nepal, a beautician from Canada and two students from India.
All said that they had no problem parading in swimwear if it helped to promote their careers and raise awareness about Tibet.
Mr Wangyal said that the swimsuit event was essential if the entrants were to qualify for international pageants. The first Miss Tibet featured in international contests in Malaysia and Mexico, although subsequent winners have been prevented from doing so after protests from China.
One entrant, 20-year-old Metok Lhanze, said: “I don’t care what others think about Miss Tibet. I just hope this will help to promote the Tibetan cause around the world.”
Miss Tibet’s growing pains highlight a severe identity crisis in the once-tight community of exiled Tibetans, half a century after Chinese troops overran their homeland.
When the Dalai Lama fled in 1959, more than 100,000 Tibetans left with him and settled abroad, mostly in India. Since then they have campaigned for greater political freedom in Tibet and to preserve traditional Tibetan culture.
China is strengthening its grip over Tibet by pouring money into the local economy and swamping its people with Chinese education and culture.
At the same time, young Tibetans in exile increasingly find that they have more in common with Indian or Western culture than with their own.
“The government-in-exile is definitely at a crossroads,” said Heidi Swank, an American anthropologist, who has followed Miss Tibet since it began in 2002. “The problem is that none of its cultural institutions intersect with young people’s lives — unlike Miss Tibet.”
When the first contest was held, the government-in-exile’s prime minister denounced it as “un-Tibetan” and “aping Western culture”.
The Dalai Lama has since softened the official line. “If there is Miss Tibet, why not Mr Tibet?” he joked last week.
Nevertheless, many older Tibetans still have grave reservations, fearing that the competition could damage their cultural identity, as well as international perceptions of Tibet.
B. Tsering, president of the Tibetan Women’s Association, said that she backed the pageant, but disapproved of the swimsuit event. “Our society is not mature enough for these things,” she said.
