We are nearly 200 strong as walk the road to Delhi. The week has been hot and muggy. The spirits are upbeat. We were treated by the Sikhs of Chandigarh to stay at a large temple in sector 38, all white and clean and plenty of water. The grounds are a garden of lawns and huge dahlias, roses and marigolds as that marigolds' saffron color is the Sikh holy color. It was a pleasure to be their guests for two nights.
The human rights commission held a press conference while there. We heard that the European Parliament will decide how to approach China after hearing of the abuses they have perpetrated on the citizens of Lhasa and Amdo, including murder and torture. Also Amnesty International has vowed to keep the Tibetan isuue near the top of their agenda. The local Sikhs donated 125,000 ruppees to the cause, @$3000.
We held two demonstrations in Chandigarh. They were covered by local and national news.
We now are 165 kilometers from Delhi.
The hot days are replaced with warm nights swarming w/ mosquitoes. So we march from before sunrise to midday covering 18-28 kilometers per day (11-17 miles). The food is plentiful with large portions of rice with vegetables and hot sauce. Mornings is tsampa. Tsampa, a blend of barley flour, butter, sugarand milk tea (I add cinnamon for a flavoring) is kneaded in your bowl into a semblance of cookie dough. I choose to eat mine as I walk the first hour. We bath and wash clothes in buckets as often as possible, usually every day.
We anticipate Dehi arrival around 9APR. We hope to be joined by 10000 Tibetans from all over India for several large rallies as the Olympic torch nears.
Remember the dead and dying in Tibet, the starving and imprisoned. Pray always for a just end to this abuse of members of our human family. Let your officials hear that you want the light of free information to shine in Tibet. The Tibetans need to know you care. Let us not fail them again!!
For the benefit of all sentient beings, I dedicate each day to the enlightenment of all and the release from suffering. May you cherish the freedom you have and work to spread that freedom through this noble non-violent cause.
Your friend,
Tenkyong
Monday, March 31, 2008
Monday, March 24, 2008
Decisions, Decisions
I have been in Mcleod Ganj since very early FRI morning, 0300hrs. I came back from camp near Anandphur Sahib, Punjab by luck of taxi returning to SFT hdqtrs after returning several of the released core marchers from the initial march. They were held in detention for a sentenced 14 days, but the majority of the 102 have been quietly released without having to sign bonds which would prohibit their continued marching.
The returnees included the two oldest Tibetans "M" and "A" both 67 years old.(All Tibetan names will appear as initials to protect identities from Chinese authorities.) They were welcomed with a huge applause and many hugs and folded hands offered in prayer. These two marchers are especially inspirational as they formed a friendship in 2004 in a smaller peace march for Tibet here in India. They are ready to march home to Tibet and I am very proud to follow them towards their goal.
There have been some powerful requests from the Dalai Lama and the Kashag and Chitue (parliament and cabinet) to stop the march. Many meetings over these past five days have yielded no official announcement from the five NGOs who are the organizers of the march. I can tell you that I feel a personal obligation to return to the group as I assured the Tibetans and foreign supporters that I would be back. If the march is terminated, then I want to be with the group at that time. So I will take a night bus towards Chandigar to rejoin.
Being in town is a bit wierd. It is such a lovely time to be near the mountains as the temps are shirt sleeve and the skies clear and the mountains are snow covered. But the work calls and I will go.The tourists are lost because the shopping is restricted to only Indian shops as the Tibetan shops and restaurants are on strike. Some opened today, MON, but this is the usual day off for businesses. So I don't know what the next week will bring. But I do know that I can attend only so many shouting marches. They are effective ways of releasing the pent up anxieties but they are also less fulfilling for my purposes. I want to march towards Delhi with the Tibetans.
So I hope the Christian friends enjoyed the resurrection of the Christ and that all have been well.
Thinking of you as I work for a more equitable and alert world,
Tenkyong
For the benefit of all sentient beings
The returnees included the two oldest Tibetans "M" and "A" both 67 years old.(All Tibetan names will appear as initials to protect identities from Chinese authorities.) They were welcomed with a huge applause and many hugs and folded hands offered in prayer. These two marchers are especially inspirational as they formed a friendship in 2004 in a smaller peace march for Tibet here in India. They are ready to march home to Tibet and I am very proud to follow them towards their goal.
There have been some powerful requests from the Dalai Lama and the Kashag and Chitue (parliament and cabinet) to stop the march. Many meetings over these past five days have yielded no official announcement from the five NGOs who are the organizers of the march. I can tell you that I feel a personal obligation to return to the group as I assured the Tibetans and foreign supporters that I would be back. If the march is terminated, then I want to be with the group at that time. So I will take a night bus towards Chandigar to rejoin.
Being in town is a bit wierd. It is such a lovely time to be near the mountains as the temps are shirt sleeve and the skies clear and the mountains are snow covered. But the work calls and I will go.The tourists are lost because the shopping is restricted to only Indian shops as the Tibetan shops and restaurants are on strike. Some opened today, MON, but this is the usual day off for businesses. So I don't know what the next week will bring. But I do know that I can attend only so many shouting marches. They are effective ways of releasing the pent up anxieties but they are also less fulfilling for my purposes. I want to march towards Delhi with the Tibetans.
So I hope the Christian friends enjoyed the resurrection of the Christ and that all have been well.
Thinking of you as I work for a more equitable and alert world,
Tenkyong
For the benefit of all sentient beings
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
For the friends,
I am well. Do not worry about me as I am a resident of the "free" world.
Remember in your prayers the 1.2 million dead Tibetans.
Remember, to pray for the People's Republic of China Gov't as this is a special opportunity for them to turn around from their self destructive karmic action and return to humanity.
Remember, especially to raise the voice of human rights for all; to all officials, WRITE, CALL, DEMONSTRATE, get your town to RAISE THE TIBETAN FLAG FOR ONE DAY AND PHOTO IT AND POST IT ON WEB (900 German towns did it, can't we?) Contact Snow Lion publications on line to order Tibetan flags.
DO ACT!!! In solidarity proclaim, I AM TIBETAN!
BOD GYALO
Tenkyong
from Nangal, Punjab, India
I am well. Do not worry about me as I am a resident of the "free" world.
Remember in your prayers the 1.2 million dead Tibetans.
Remember, to pray for the People's Republic of China Gov't as this is a special opportunity for them to turn around from their self destructive karmic action and return to humanity.
Remember, especially to raise the voice of human rights for all; to all officials, WRITE, CALL, DEMONSTRATE, get your town to RAISE THE TIBETAN FLAG FOR ONE DAY AND PHOTO IT AND POST IT ON WEB (900 German towns did it, can't we?) Contact Snow Lion publications on line to order Tibetan flags.
DO ACT!!! In solidarity proclaim, I AM TIBETAN!
BOD GYALO
Tenkyong
from Nangal, Punjab, India
Monday, March 17, 2008
I began my trip to India the night that I boarded the Greyhound for Chicago on 07Jan. I had hours to think squeezed in my seat as we passed from Montana to North Dakota. The sun was rising and there were some low clouds in the southern sky which made my mind reflect on the different perspectives that I experience in my life. The steel grays and blues of shadowed clouds brightened to the pinks and reds that are revealed when the sun illuminates the same clouds from above. The colors also changed as the bus carried my eyes to a new location. I made notes of my ideas and settled in for the next full day aboard the BIG DOG.
I arrived at the bus station in Chicago during the hurrying pace of the rush hours Wed morning. I was disoriented as I had envisioned the bus station that I departed from for the move to Montana in 1981, but we were disembarking at a new place and a new building. After some reflection, or whatever your mind does after rolling down from the mountains for 33 hours can be called, I hailed a taxi to take me to a hostel on the near north side quite near to my family’s home when I was an infant. The taxi driver said that yes the old Randolf Street bus station was long gone as the real estate value had soared during the building craze of the last ten years. We cordially conversed as we exchanged handshakes and the fare. Chicago was home for the next 36 hours. I showered and slept in the room for the first few hours while two Germans were beginning to roust and move out. Later I phoned old friends, very old friends. We played together in the then-new suburbs south of Midway Airport, when it was the world’s busiest airport. That was 50 years ago. We would meet for a dinner later that evening. The rest of the day I explored Millenium Park that was so dazzling when I came through Chi-town on return from my stay in Toronto in 2006.
Chicagoans call it the Jelly Bean the artist calls it “CloudGate”, but what ever the name there is a polished stainless steel “amoeba” in the park near the Art Institute. It reflects everything around it and skews the usually reliable perspective that the visual cortex and the cerebellum coordinate. Buildings warp, people are bloated as in the old circus mirrors as they dance forward and back with their reflection, but the clouds look almost natural in the metal curves. The hard lines distort and the flowing skyscape seems almost unaffected. I recorded what I saw with my new camcorder, realizing I was also one more step removed from the engagement of my own body with the “Cloud Gate”. Wonder if the reference is to Huxley’s “Gates of Perception”?
Later on the “El” tracks, I recorded the famous elevated trains. Their wheels sparked and skreeched around the corners carrying passengers on ancient wooden platforms a floor or two above the engineered pavement busy with cars below. The relaxed ease of passengers entering and exiting the stainless steel cars was opposed with the frenetic pace below seen through the slats of the platform. The last video I shot I had to turn the camcorder 90 degrees to fit the skyscrapers in the field. But being a still photographer for 45 years, I failed to realize something as I prepared to review the clip: the video recorder sees in one perspective only. The clip then presented a funny though pleasing revelation of how the perspective when viewed according to the norms of video framing made its own true sense. Perspective was creeping into my reflective vocabulary: the vocabulary that is the genesis of ideas.
I enjoyed the dinner with those friends. The questions were directed to me about what could prompt me to take all my savings and book a trip to India for five months. I told them that once in my life I would go to my teacher, who lives in Dharamshala. I wanted to listen to teachings while seated with the world sangha assembled in the courtyard of Tsuglagkhang, surrounded by Namgyal Monastery. Tibetan Buddhist studies are important to me and the direction of my life. From my point of view, I knew that the dharma studies were influencing the second half of this life, this time. We parted with hugs and well wishes and promises of a longer visit on my return.
Thursday turned cold as I lugged my baggage to that same “El” train and rode with the early rush hour people to Ohare International Airport. The “El” goes from above ground to underground as it enters the final terminal lit with ribbons of spectrum shining through prismatic glass block walls. From the stopped train the lights evoke motion and once on the platform everybody is in motion at one of the world’s busiest travel junctions. Several hours would pass before we travelers were making new associations as we settled into the seats for the 8 hours to Zurich. Movies, music, radio, dinner snacks drinks and all were available for the flight. So strange after the simpler life I have adopted in my Montana apartment. Now I was Jim the international traveler and could view how others lived so much: very strange! After the night flight to Zurich, many would continue another 8 hours to land in Delhi near midnight local time. On the way to Delhi I relished the idea of an American flying in Iranian airspace while gazing at a sunlit Swiss white cross on red field on the wingtip. The only way to fly in Iranian airspace!
The Delhi stay could be another whole story even though only 36 hours long. Those hours were summed up by the owner of the hostel in Pahar Ganj who asked knowingly, “Culture shock?” Yes the perspective of the American on his first trip to India and his stay in the 400 year old bazarr was culture shock. How would you describe alley wide streets peopled with hawking merchants, beggars, lepers, dogs, holy cows, 3-wheeled motorized taxis, bicycle rickshaws, motorcycles, colors, smells, incessantly honking car and motorcycle horns, cars, police seated nonchalantly in the turn around, kids playing with rats, electrical wires that were more spaghetti than linear as they threaded from window to window and climbed up poles and around corners and…………and there were elephants?
I took an overnight bus to hill country and the home of His Holiness the XIV Dalai Lama. I would have a month to reflect on the whole of my life and this latest chapter. My cousin asked, “What are you looking for?” I would reflect.
The teachings from the Dalai Lama, The Jataka Tales, were going to review the many hundreds of rebirths that the perfected Buddha experienced. The ancient stories related the characteristics of one who seeks to unveil the compassionate nature hidden within us all. We all are Buddha, just not awake to our perfect nature. During the teachings, pamphlets were handed out near the gate to the temple grounds. Tibetan Animal Awareness, Tibetan Environmental Awareness, offerings of cooking classes, appeals for many things. But one particularly caught my new attention: Tibetan People’s Uprising Movement.
After the day’s teachings on compassion in action, I read the leaflet. It described the Lhasa, Tibet uprising on 10March 1959 that precipitated the flight of the Dalai Lama into exile. Each year since then the Tibetan people remember when they had Communist Chinese troops in their capital, presumably liberating them from the life of Tibetan Buddhism and culture they had voluntarily sustained for over 500 years. Each year they remember the 1.2 million Tibetans that have since been murdered for seeking the return of the Dalai Lama and the freedom to live a Tibetan life under their choice of governance and philosophy. Each year they yearn to regain their homeland, culture and pursuit of their brand of Buddhism. Each year they ask the international community to help end the ruthless murder and incarceration of Tibetans who only utter the words Free Tibet or Long Live Dalai Lama. Each year for 49 years!
As I reflected in the first month on my life I met and got to know several Tibetans. Lhamo taught me to make momos, thentuk and tingmo. He invited me to have Losar, Tibetan New years at his home. Pema befriended me over coffees at the shop where he works. My landlord, Sonam, walked with his parents and sister in 1959 over the high Himalayas to freedom. Little Tenzin walked to freedom a year ago at age ten. I reflected on the perspective of them all, such different lives from mine. I especially reflected on Tenzin.
He sat next to me at Losar and has such a wonderful smile. I considered him a happy little boy. His uncle, Lhamo, told me a story from Tenzin’s young life when I related how many of us in the west had seen the video from a couple of years ago when a nun was shot dead in the snows of a high pass seeking freedom. Lhamo pointed at Tenzin as he said, “He was there.”
I gasped and choked backed the tears. Would he tell me more? Tenzin and several others walked for days to get to the final pass and freedom. The Chinese marksmen were there. Hungarian cameramen documenting a climbing effort heard shots and trained their cameras on the line of Tibetans who started a run for the border. A figure fell as the rifles repeated their shots. Lhamo said the nun was shot in the head. The others ran. Some escaped across the border. Some were apprehended and returned to Lhasa to face prison. Tenzin, this young boy, was caught and went to prison. But he was sitting next to me!? Yes, he got released from prison and his parents, who still live in Lhasa, sent him again to face the rifles and the snows and the high passes to gain freedom. They sent their son twice to gain freedom in India and to live with his uncle, maybe never seeing him again, except in photos. This is one story. The stories are available from every face you see on the streets of Mcleod Ganj. Now I really had some ideas to reflect on!
If you stay in Mcleod Ganj or Upper Dharamshala or Little Lhasa, (all the same refugee 49 year old refugee camp) for a few weeks, as many do, you see many lovely faces and a lot of smiles. You see what you presume are families going about the chores of living. But if you live here for several months and speak and get to know people there are veneers that can be lifted with trust. People, these Tibetans, tell how many are not nuclear families but families of uncles and aunts taking care of their siblings’ children as they think of starting their own families. Children who dream of seeing their parents one day in a Tibet with secured human rights and self governance greet you with disarming smiles and laughter. People who walked tens of years ago to freedom, who wish to return to their land to see relatives before they die, welcome you into their homes for tea and biscuits as if you belong to their relations.
My Tibetan friends offer their humble and deep gratitude that I have joined the Tibetan People’s Uprising Movement as a support marcher. They bow as they look into your eyes with such hope and optimism. It is wrenching to have people with tearful eyes offer thanks just for your deciding to walk with the core marchers, to bear witness to the nonviolent expression of their sorrow and hope. They know as I do that I risk recrimination from the Indian government for being a foreign witness to this heroic effort to shout to the world: Bod Gyalo!!!!!!!!!!
Victory for Tibet! Tibetans have been waiting and are again asking the world to resist the People’s Republic of China’s government claim that the human rights of 6 million Tibetans is an internal affair. Tibetans have launched a united effort to counter the white washing of China that human rights are protected for all the people of China. I have agreed with the Tibetan people since I joined The International Campaign for Tibet in 2001. But the perspective of agreeing and writing and thinking is not what I can do now. Enough talk, it is time to walk! On 10March I began to walk behind the 100 core marchers, as a witness to the non-violent effort of these friends to alert the world to the continuing genocide in Tibet.
The intent is to walk 2500 kilometers from Dharamshala, the home of Tibetan refugees who live closest to His Holiness the Dalai Lama, to their homeland. The intent is to open the eyes of the world to the continued repression of the People’s Republic of China. To say much more right now would tell a different story. I wanted to share how my perspective has changed over these last months. Action is the next step to letter writing and words of support and cash donations so easily offered. Action, non-violent action to light the world’s dark lies. As I walk I say my Om Mani Pedme Hung mantra. My 100 days of walking can maybe give me the opportunity to say one million two hundred thousand mantras, one for each Tibetan assassinated by the People’s Liberation Army in Tibet. One for each monk and nun made to fornicate in the street before being killed. One for each Tibetan who dies and whose corpse must be left on the frozen high passes of the Himalaya mountains. Oh, I just read todays news. I have to walk some more. I have to say another 100 mantras for more lost Tibetans.
POSTSCRIPT:
First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out -
because I was not a Socialist.
Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out -
because I was not a Trade Unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out -
because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me - and there was no one left to speak for me.
I arrived at the bus station in Chicago during the hurrying pace of the rush hours Wed morning. I was disoriented as I had envisioned the bus station that I departed from for the move to Montana in 1981, but we were disembarking at a new place and a new building. After some reflection, or whatever your mind does after rolling down from the mountains for 33 hours can be called, I hailed a taxi to take me to a hostel on the near north side quite near to my family’s home when I was an infant. The taxi driver said that yes the old Randolf Street bus station was long gone as the real estate value had soared during the building craze of the last ten years. We cordially conversed as we exchanged handshakes and the fare. Chicago was home for the next 36 hours. I showered and slept in the room for the first few hours while two Germans were beginning to roust and move out. Later I phoned old friends, very old friends. We played together in the then-new suburbs south of Midway Airport, when it was the world’s busiest airport. That was 50 years ago. We would meet for a dinner later that evening. The rest of the day I explored Millenium Park that was so dazzling when I came through Chi-town on return from my stay in Toronto in 2006.
Chicagoans call it the Jelly Bean the artist calls it “CloudGate”, but what ever the name there is a polished stainless steel “amoeba” in the park near the Art Institute. It reflects everything around it and skews the usually reliable perspective that the visual cortex and the cerebellum coordinate. Buildings warp, people are bloated as in the old circus mirrors as they dance forward and back with their reflection, but the clouds look almost natural in the metal curves. The hard lines distort and the flowing skyscape seems almost unaffected. I recorded what I saw with my new camcorder, realizing I was also one more step removed from the engagement of my own body with the “Cloud Gate”. Wonder if the reference is to Huxley’s “Gates of Perception”?
Later on the “El” tracks, I recorded the famous elevated trains. Their wheels sparked and skreeched around the corners carrying passengers on ancient wooden platforms a floor or two above the engineered pavement busy with cars below. The relaxed ease of passengers entering and exiting the stainless steel cars was opposed with the frenetic pace below seen through the slats of the platform. The last video I shot I had to turn the camcorder 90 degrees to fit the skyscrapers in the field. But being a still photographer for 45 years, I failed to realize something as I prepared to review the clip: the video recorder sees in one perspective only. The clip then presented a funny though pleasing revelation of how the perspective when viewed according to the norms of video framing made its own true sense. Perspective was creeping into my reflective vocabulary: the vocabulary that is the genesis of ideas.
I enjoyed the dinner with those friends. The questions were directed to me about what could prompt me to take all my savings and book a trip to India for five months. I told them that once in my life I would go to my teacher, who lives in Dharamshala. I wanted to listen to teachings while seated with the world sangha assembled in the courtyard of Tsuglagkhang, surrounded by Namgyal Monastery. Tibetan Buddhist studies are important to me and the direction of my life. From my point of view, I knew that the dharma studies were influencing the second half of this life, this time. We parted with hugs and well wishes and promises of a longer visit on my return.
Thursday turned cold as I lugged my baggage to that same “El” train and rode with the early rush hour people to Ohare International Airport. The “El” goes from above ground to underground as it enters the final terminal lit with ribbons of spectrum shining through prismatic glass block walls. From the stopped train the lights evoke motion and once on the platform everybody is in motion at one of the world’s busiest travel junctions. Several hours would pass before we travelers were making new associations as we settled into the seats for the 8 hours to Zurich. Movies, music, radio, dinner snacks drinks and all were available for the flight. So strange after the simpler life I have adopted in my Montana apartment. Now I was Jim the international traveler and could view how others lived so much: very strange! After the night flight to Zurich, many would continue another 8 hours to land in Delhi near midnight local time. On the way to Delhi I relished the idea of an American flying in Iranian airspace while gazing at a sunlit Swiss white cross on red field on the wingtip. The only way to fly in Iranian airspace!
The Delhi stay could be another whole story even though only 36 hours long. Those hours were summed up by the owner of the hostel in Pahar Ganj who asked knowingly, “Culture shock?” Yes the perspective of the American on his first trip to India and his stay in the 400 year old bazarr was culture shock. How would you describe alley wide streets peopled with hawking merchants, beggars, lepers, dogs, holy cows, 3-wheeled motorized taxis, bicycle rickshaws, motorcycles, colors, smells, incessantly honking car and motorcycle horns, cars, police seated nonchalantly in the turn around, kids playing with rats, electrical wires that were more spaghetti than linear as they threaded from window to window and climbed up poles and around corners and…………and there were elephants?
I took an overnight bus to hill country and the home of His Holiness the XIV Dalai Lama. I would have a month to reflect on the whole of my life and this latest chapter. My cousin asked, “What are you looking for?” I would reflect.
The teachings from the Dalai Lama, The Jataka Tales, were going to review the many hundreds of rebirths that the perfected Buddha experienced. The ancient stories related the characteristics of one who seeks to unveil the compassionate nature hidden within us all. We all are Buddha, just not awake to our perfect nature. During the teachings, pamphlets were handed out near the gate to the temple grounds. Tibetan Animal Awareness, Tibetan Environmental Awareness, offerings of cooking classes, appeals for many things. But one particularly caught my new attention: Tibetan People’s Uprising Movement.
After the day’s teachings on compassion in action, I read the leaflet. It described the Lhasa, Tibet uprising on 10March 1959 that precipitated the flight of the Dalai Lama into exile. Each year since then the Tibetan people remember when they had Communist Chinese troops in their capital, presumably liberating them from the life of Tibetan Buddhism and culture they had voluntarily sustained for over 500 years. Each year they remember the 1.2 million Tibetans that have since been murdered for seeking the return of the Dalai Lama and the freedom to live a Tibetan life under their choice of governance and philosophy. Each year they yearn to regain their homeland, culture and pursuit of their brand of Buddhism. Each year they ask the international community to help end the ruthless murder and incarceration of Tibetans who only utter the words Free Tibet or Long Live Dalai Lama. Each year for 49 years!
As I reflected in the first month on my life I met and got to know several Tibetans. Lhamo taught me to make momos, thentuk and tingmo. He invited me to have Losar, Tibetan New years at his home. Pema befriended me over coffees at the shop where he works. My landlord, Sonam, walked with his parents and sister in 1959 over the high Himalayas to freedom. Little Tenzin walked to freedom a year ago at age ten. I reflected on the perspective of them all, such different lives from mine. I especially reflected on Tenzin.
He sat next to me at Losar and has such a wonderful smile. I considered him a happy little boy. His uncle, Lhamo, told me a story from Tenzin’s young life when I related how many of us in the west had seen the video from a couple of years ago when a nun was shot dead in the snows of a high pass seeking freedom. Lhamo pointed at Tenzin as he said, “He was there.”
I gasped and choked backed the tears. Would he tell me more? Tenzin and several others walked for days to get to the final pass and freedom. The Chinese marksmen were there. Hungarian cameramen documenting a climbing effort heard shots and trained their cameras on the line of Tibetans who started a run for the border. A figure fell as the rifles repeated their shots. Lhamo said the nun was shot in the head. The others ran. Some escaped across the border. Some were apprehended and returned to Lhasa to face prison. Tenzin, this young boy, was caught and went to prison. But he was sitting next to me!? Yes, he got released from prison and his parents, who still live in Lhasa, sent him again to face the rifles and the snows and the high passes to gain freedom. They sent their son twice to gain freedom in India and to live with his uncle, maybe never seeing him again, except in photos. This is one story. The stories are available from every face you see on the streets of Mcleod Ganj. Now I really had some ideas to reflect on!
If you stay in Mcleod Ganj or Upper Dharamshala or Little Lhasa, (all the same refugee 49 year old refugee camp) for a few weeks, as many do, you see many lovely faces and a lot of smiles. You see what you presume are families going about the chores of living. But if you live here for several months and speak and get to know people there are veneers that can be lifted with trust. People, these Tibetans, tell how many are not nuclear families but families of uncles and aunts taking care of their siblings’ children as they think of starting their own families. Children who dream of seeing their parents one day in a Tibet with secured human rights and self governance greet you with disarming smiles and laughter. People who walked tens of years ago to freedom, who wish to return to their land to see relatives before they die, welcome you into their homes for tea and biscuits as if you belong to their relations.
My Tibetan friends offer their humble and deep gratitude that I have joined the Tibetan People’s Uprising Movement as a support marcher. They bow as they look into your eyes with such hope and optimism. It is wrenching to have people with tearful eyes offer thanks just for your deciding to walk with the core marchers, to bear witness to the nonviolent expression of their sorrow and hope. They know as I do that I risk recrimination from the Indian government for being a foreign witness to this heroic effort to shout to the world: Bod Gyalo!!!!!!!!!!
Victory for Tibet! Tibetans have been waiting and are again asking the world to resist the People’s Republic of China’s government claim that the human rights of 6 million Tibetans is an internal affair. Tibetans have launched a united effort to counter the white washing of China that human rights are protected for all the people of China. I have agreed with the Tibetan people since I joined The International Campaign for Tibet in 2001. But the perspective of agreeing and writing and thinking is not what I can do now. Enough talk, it is time to walk! On 10March I began to walk behind the 100 core marchers, as a witness to the non-violent effort of these friends to alert the world to the continuing genocide in Tibet.
The intent is to walk 2500 kilometers from Dharamshala, the home of Tibetan refugees who live closest to His Holiness the Dalai Lama, to their homeland. The intent is to open the eyes of the world to the continued repression of the People’s Republic of China. To say much more right now would tell a different story. I wanted to share how my perspective has changed over these last months. Action is the next step to letter writing and words of support and cash donations so easily offered. Action, non-violent action to light the world’s dark lies. As I walk I say my Om Mani Pedme Hung mantra. My 100 days of walking can maybe give me the opportunity to say one million two hundred thousand mantras, one for each Tibetan assassinated by the People’s Liberation Army in Tibet. One for each monk and nun made to fornicate in the street before being killed. One for each Tibetan who dies and whose corpse must be left on the frozen high passes of the Himalaya mountains. Oh, I just read todays news. I have to walk some more. I have to say another 100 mantras for more lost Tibetans.
POSTSCRIPT:
First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out -
because I was not a Socialist.
Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out -
because I was not a Trade Unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out -
because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me - and there was no one left to speak for me.
Friday, March 14, 2008
for quick photos from the last few days:
www.tibetoday.com
the site has many photos of the Tibetan Uprising Resistance March Mcleod Ganj- Dehra
www.tibetoday.com
the site has many photos of the Tibetan Uprising Resistance March Mcleod Ganj- Dehra
I am back in Mcleod Ganj. Took bus from last camp, a few kilometers from Dehra, Kangra distict, Himachal Pradesh. We marched from 0530 THURS until we were stopped by dozens of police. I filmed w/ camcorder the arrests until time to sit down w/ the witnesses. Dragged to bus w/ the core marchers(102) and spent less than hour in detention w/ core. Felt pride and no fear as police grabbed and locked foot under bus as tried to push me on bus, so kept the resistance til overpowered. They expelled all foreigners w/o looking at passports but video'd us before leaving. India doesnt want trail of foreigners. We can march again if needed. They dont want paper trail because the govt lies to Indian news that no foreigners were arrested after the bloody beating of several nuns in Delhi. Some nuns in critical condition as of thurs morn.Held vigil in front of detention center until early evening when the 100 core were loaded on 5 busses to go to magistrates. Then we held vigil at Dehra magistrates until they were transferrred to their holding place for 14days - 6 months.
Mcleod Ganj was locked down for all Tibetans, no in no out. Internet connections were cut from town for a day. After thousands in candlelight vigil at HHDL temple we watched video feeds from Toronto, Olympia Greeece and Lhasa and Amdo, Berlin. But NO SHOW USA!
Do you know of any in USA?
I have to write article for David Lewis before web may be shut off.
Coordinators just called for all Tibetan shops and cafes to close and 24 hr hunger strike in honor of dozen deaths in Lhasa.
We dont know what is next but ready to go back to a new march if they want foriegn eyewitnesses. The police at least did not beat anyone at Dehra where we were. A few scrapes and kicks, I have bruises after spread eagle dragged to bus for arrest.
SUPPORT the TIBETAN PEOPLE'S UPRISING!
www.tibetanuprising.org
Pray for the enlightenment of the People's Republic of China Government
Be well,
Tenkyong
Mcleod Ganj was locked down for all Tibetans, no in no out. Internet connections were cut from town for a day. After thousands in candlelight vigil at HHDL temple we watched video feeds from Toronto, Olympia Greeece and Lhasa and Amdo, Berlin. But NO SHOW USA!
Do you know of any in USA?
I have to write article for David Lewis before web may be shut off.
Coordinators just called for all Tibetan shops and cafes to close and 24 hr hunger strike in honor of dozen deaths in Lhasa.
We dont know what is next but ready to go back to a new march if they want foriegn eyewitnesses. The police at least did not beat anyone at Dehra where we were. A few scrapes and kicks, I have bruises after spread eagle dragged to bus for arrest.
SUPPORT the TIBETAN PEOPLE'S UPRISING!
www.tibetanuprising.org
Pray for the enlightenment of the People's Republic of China Government
Be well,
Tenkyong
Sunday, March 9, 2008
The Old Dog Learns a New Trick!
I have decided to enter the 21st century of communication. By chance as I sat in front of a monitor in a cyber cafe on Jogibara Road in Mcleod Ganj India, I met a pair of teachers. These teachers were a newly wed couple from Boston area enjoying each other on a wonderful several month journey through Africa and Asia. They patiently showed me the ease of establishing the LhasaMontana blog. I am and, if you want to keep up with the changes I experience, you too should be grateful!
From now on come to LhasaMontana blog for the latest general news of the "Adventures of Tenzin Tenkyong". As your loving friend Jim would want you to!!
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