When the weather is inviting, Tibetan baby sitters gather with their charges at the Third Street Playground in Prospect Park, Brooklyn, to talk about work, family and Tibet, which has been under Chinese rule since 1951 and from which many of them fled to India as refugees.
Lhamo Choedon 44, of Astoria, Queens. Born in Tibet, grew up in India.
Sometimes I wonder, What am I doing here? Our parents worked so hard and never made me work as a domestic, and suddenly I’m working as a baby sitter. In plain English, it’s a servant. But after a few months, I got used to it. In America, everyone works.
In India we’re so different from the Indians that you’re always an outsider, as if you have “Refugee” written on your face. But here, in the subway, no one knows I’m a refugee looking for asylum. I don’t feel like an outsider in the same way here.
I have a lot of books. The good thing about the U.S. is you can spend very little money and read a lot: you go down the street with a stroller and you find boxes of books. I read mostly autobiographies, and everything that’s new to me, like about Jews or American Indians. That’s why, though I live alone, I’m not bored, lonely or depressed, because I have the books.
Namgyal Lhadon 29, of Jackson Heights, Queens. Born and grew up in India.
Here you feel so lonely. There are no Tibetan monasteries in Manhattan. It’s so difficult that you forget praying. You’re just completely controlled by work – just come, go, come, go – that you don’t have time for yourself and your religious self.
I think after one and a half years people become like New York City people. They’re so about their own work, their own well-being, so competitive here – who’s earning more. You don’t want to be like that, but you’re among them so you become like them.
Tenzing Bhutia 47, of Briarwood, Queens. Born in Tibet, grew up in India.
My first dream was to give my kids an improved education. Here there are so many better opportunities.
In Tibetan culture, children are under the control of their parents. But here, after 18, they’re almost free. My children still listen to me, but after 5 or 10 years, I think, they’re going to be totally American.
Sometimes they go to a party and wear a dress with the top of the shirt and arm missing. I don’t like that. But my children say, “What I’m wearing is just dress, but inside I’m your daughter.”
If they finish their education, their future is going to be saved, so I don’t worry that they will become too American. But I say: “Don’t forget: You are Tibetan. Don’t forget your rules, your parents, your family.”
As told to John Freeman Gill
