in the land of the lamas

Festivals have a unique ability to blur boundaries and unite people in a spirit of excitement and celebration. Monday was Dussehra, which celebrates the triumph of good over evil in the form of Lord Rama’s defeat of the demon king Ravana. I had the day off from volunteering, but I went to Khaniyara village anyway to have lunch with the women’s group. In celebration of the holiday, everyone gathered at the village temple to share a meal. It was very similar to the meal I ate at Chamunda temple last week, but there were more vegetable dishes to mix with the rice, and I had a hard time keeping up with the pace of the seven-course meal!

In the evening, I went with the other volunteers to a local Dussehra celebration in Dharamsala. The community gathered in a large, open field where there were huge, paper maché effigies of the evil king Ravana and his brother and son. Music blared on loud speakers as children ran around with fake swords and bows and arrows, pretending to be Rama and Ravana dueling. Fireworks were in abundance, even before the sun set. The field was very close to the Tibetan Children’s Village, and uniformed students were running around enjoying the show just as much as everyone else. When we first arrived, there were probably more Tibetans than Indians in attendance for the popular Hindu festival. At dark, costumed actors came onto the field with shimmering gold headdresses and painted faces to reenact the infamous battle between Rama and Ravana. When Rama’s forces won, the actors lit the paper effigies on fire to symbolize the final victory. The effigies were stuffed with firecrackers and created an impressive explosion, accompanied by the cheers of all in attendance.

Before Monday’s holiday excitement, I enjoyed a restful weekend in Dharamsala. On Saturday, I met the Tibetan woman who used to attend my morning language class at her flat in Mcleod. We shared some tea, and I learned about her family in Tibet and her life in India. Our conversation eventually shifted to the Tibetan class I’m taking, and I mentioned that the nun who teaches it is going out of town for a couple weeks to visit family. I was concerned about how well I could teach myself while she’s away. My friend said she was interested in getting some more practice with reading and writing the script, and she knew of a monk who might be willing to help us. She called him, and we met at a nearby coffee shop to discuss creating an informal class. He agreed to meet us three afternoons a week in Mcleod, so I’m going to try that for a while and see how it goes. Our first meeting was Wednesday, and it was a nice opportunity to practice reading and learn some useful conversational phrases. The monk is from Amdo province, so his pronunciation is a bit different than what I’m used to hearing, but his Tibetan is still understandable, and the script is the same.

I spent all of Saturday in Mcleod and enjoyed stopping in some local cafes and restaurants. I introduced myself to a Tibetan woman who runs one of the cafes and joined a game of dice she and some friends were playing. That evening, I went to Gu-Chu-Sum, an association of ex-political prisoners from Tibet. Six afternoons a week, the Gu-Chu-Sum organization hosts anyone who wishes to join ex-political prisoners and their families to facilitate informal English practice since they have been barred from educational opportunities in Tibet. I’ve been going a few times a week, and on Saturday, I conversed with a young man whose poetry about the Dalai Lama resulted in his imprisonment. He is now in India studying English and hoping for a future career in journalism.

During an earlier visit, I spoke with a nun who related in broken English the story of her monastery’s desecration, her pleas to the Chinese government for relief, her subsequent imprisonment, and finally her escape to India. She and another nun spent nearly a month walking across the snowy Himalayas until they crossed the border into Nepal and received assistance from the Tibetan refugee community there. Her story is only one of many, but there’s something very powerful hearing it first-hand. I really enjoy my visits to Gu-Chu-Sum because the people are so glad to have English conversation partners, and they are eager to share their life experiences and to learn about mine. They often reminisce about their lives in Tibet, and I’ve learned a lot through their childhood anecdotes. Though I don’t know them when I first arrive, I always feel like they’re friends when I leave.