Visiting Tibetans

Visiting Tibetans

24. May 2018 0 By
From Bandipur to Pokhara

At 6:30 a.m. the­re is a ban­ging on our room door, it is our gui­de from yes­ter­day and at the first moment I fear that we have overs­lept. Lucki­ly it turns out a litt­le later that it’s ear­ly in the mor­ning and we still have ple­nty of time. The reason for the exci­te­ment is the clear wea­ther, becau­se you can see the Hima­la­yas from our bed­room! I’m 200% awa­ke right now. The Hima­la­yas and that view from out of my my bed? I can’t miss this. When I open the win­dow as if stung by a taran­tu­la, I am com­ple­te­ly exci­ted. You can real­ly see the high snow-cover­ed peaks of Anna­pur­na and a litt­le fur­ther left the peak of Machapucha­re, which at almost 7,000 met­res is not a hill eit­her. This is a pan­ora­ma I could actual­ly wake up to every day! Just total awesomeness.

Short­ly after 9 am we set off toward Pokha­ra, becau­se the­re is a Tibe­tan refu­gee sett­le­ment in which we will sleep with a host fami­ly tonight. I’m not sure what to expect yet, but I’m real­ly exci­ted to meet my new fami­ly and see how life real­ly is in the village.

About 30 minu­tes after we left, our dri­ver gets a call and to be honest I under­stand exact­ly one thing bet­ween the many Nepa­li words: Lap­top! I can guess what’s coming up now. Unlu­cky Mir­ko left his lap­top at the hotel. After all, this is not the first elec­tro­nic device that is half lost on Asi­an soil. I remem­ber very vivid­ly the mobi­le pho­ne that he for­got twice in dif­fe­rent taxis in Myan­mar. Howe­ver, it mira­cu­lous­ly reap­peared. Let me put it this way: all good things come in threes. Sin­ce the nice Swiss fami­ly from yes­ter­day is still in the hotel, we don’t have to worry, becau­se they too will sleep with a fami­ly in the Tibe­tan sett­le­ment tonight and can take it with them. It’s always good to know a few Swiss peo­p­le who will car­ry your things behind.

Visiting Tibetans

About 2 hours later we reach our desti­na­ti­on and are wel­co­med by our gui­de for today. Tog­e­ther with him we walk through the sett­le­ment and search for our new home.

About 500 Tibe­tan refu­gees live in this sett­le­ment. Most of them came here during the 1960s, after the Chi­ne­se occu­p­ied Tibet. Today it is a small cute sett­le­ment with prac­ti­cal hou­ses, which is laid out in a squa­re. Insi­de the­re is a lar­ge open mea­dow and a small shri­ne. Every gar­den is deco­ra­ted with colorful Tibe­tan pray­er flags and I’m alre­a­dy over the moon. By the way, the­re are 4 of the­se camps in all of Nepal.

Our host father Kun­ga greets us fri­end­ly and shows us our room for the night. The fami­ly has an extra room next to their actu­al house, which is sim­ply fur­nis­hed but clean. So all I need for one night. Well, it’s clean at first glan­ce. On the second one I have to say that the bed linen has cer­tain­ly seen bet­ter days. But never mind, clo­se your eyes and go through it. Water is expen­si­ve in a coun­try like Nepal.

Kun­ga is real­ly very nice and cares about our phy­si­cal well-being. Not even 10 minu­tes after our arri­val he ser­ves a lot of lunch, which his wife has fresh­ly pre­pared for us. The­re is deli­cious len­til soup cal­led Dal and rice with vege­ta­bles. Ever­y­thing exact­ly to my tas­te. A short time later our gui­de comes around again and takes us on a tour through the sett­le­ment and explains many inte­res­t­ing things.

Even if the sett­le­ment no lon­ger looks like a refu­gee camp and ever­y­thing resem­bles more the minia­tu­re ver­si­on of a Ger­man sub­ur­ban sett­le­ment, this was of cour­se not always the case. When the first refu­gees arri­ved in the 1960s, the­re was not­hing more than a lar­ge open area and rather spar­se tents.

Sin­ce the Tibe­tans knew neither rain nor heat becau­se of the avera­ge height of their coun­try of over 4,000 meters, they did not know much about hygie­ne, which is abso­lut­e­ly neces­sa­ry in a rather tro­pi­cal cli­ma­te. It did not take long befo­re typi­cal dise­a­ses such as cho­le­ra spread and many peo­p­le died in the first months after their escape.

The Dalai Lama, the reli­gious lea­der of the coun­try, fled to India and has lived in exi­le ever sin­ce. He deter­mi­ned that all Tibe­tan refu­gees in their sett­le­ments should not only learn the natio­nal lan­guage, but also ensu­re that the Tibe­tan lan­guage is not lost.

The­r­e­fo­re, the­re is a school in every sett­le­ment whe­re the child­ren learn Nepa­li, Tibe­tan and Eng­lish. In addi­ti­on, each vil­la­ge has its own monas­tery, a spe­cial Tibe­tan doc­tor and a Wes­tern doctor.

Even though the Nepa­le­se Red Cross has made sure that the­re are real hou­ses here today, the­re is still a big pro­blem for the Tibe­tans. They only recei­ve a refu­gee card from the Nepa­le­se govern­ment, but no pass­port, so they are stateless.

This means not only that they can­not lea­ve the coun­try, but also that they are not even allo­wed to prac­ti­se all kinds of pro­fes­si­ons. For exam­p­le, if you want to start your own com­pa­ny in Nepal, you can only do so if you are a Nepa­le­se citi­zen. Other­wi­se you are depen­dent on the help of locals, like our gui­de for exam­p­le. His com­pa­ny runs in the name of a Nepa­le­se fri­end. If the fri­end does­n’t feel good about him any more, then it looks rather bad for him.

The same appli­es to many other pro­fes­si­ons. Thus the Tibe­tan refu­gees can stu­dy medi­ci­ne, but due to their lack of citi­zen­ship they will never be allo­wed to recei­ve and prac­ti­ce offi­ci­al admission.

Some of you may won­der why the Chi­ne­se were so inte­res­ted in Tibet at all. Quite sim­ply, Tibet is on the one hand a coun­try with many natu­ral resour­ces that the modern world needs, such as ura­ni­um and lithi­um, and on the other Tibet is also cal­led the third pole. Becau­se bes­i­des the Arc­tic and Ant­ar­c­tic, Tibet has the most gla­ciers. In addi­ti­on, Tibet is the source of the lar­gest rivers in Sou­the­ast Asia, such as the Mekong, Yel­low River and Yang Tze.

Our gui­de says the ear­lier wars were about reli­gi­ons and oil and the coming ones will be about water. It is only logi­cal that an eco­no­mic power like Chi­na would like to assi­mi­la­te a coun­try with rich water resour­ces like Tibet. After all, almost all Sou­the­ast Asi­an count­ries are depen­dent on Tibet’s sources and it makes sen­se for Chi­na to have the trig­ger in its hand.

This is also the reason why the Dalai Lama, who lives in exi­le in India, can­not tra­vel to any Asi­an coun­try except Japan. With the excep­ti­on of Japan, all Sou­the­ast Asi­an count­ries are depen­dent on the Chi­ne­se and nobo­dy wants to mess with them. Other­wi­se, the next dam will pro­ba­b­ly be built fas­ter than anyo­ne can say „beep“. But we see a lot of pho­tos of the Dalai Lama with Wes­tern rulers in the parish hall, inclu­ding Ange­la Merkel.

In prin­ci­ple, howe­ver, it must be said that the Tibe­tan refu­gees are doing bet­ter than many a Nepa­li. Through the Red Cross they have recei­ved a lot of help in recent years and the vil­la­ge com­mu­ni­ty secu­res a part of its inco­me through tourism.

Car­pets, sou­ve­nirs and a visit to the doctor

In the midd­le of the sett­le­ment we visit the car­pet wea­ving work­shop, whe­re the most beau­tiful hand-knot­ted car­pets are pro­du­ced. All made of pure sheep’s wool and each one of them with a lot of love. Until the 1990s the­re was a real boom in the local car­pet indus­try becau­se half the world impor­ted huge Tibe­tan car­pets. But the who­le thing came to a quick end when aid orga­ni­sa­ti­ons loo­ked at the hust­le and bust­le from clo­se up and rea­li­sed that of cour­se many child­ren were also employ­ed. Of cour­se the­re are laws on child labour, but nobo­dy is inte­res­ted in it. Under­stan­d­a­b­ly, the fami­ly has to be fed somehow and ever­yo­ne has to help out.

A few meters fur­ther on we meet the sou­ve­nir mile of the vil­la­ge and the­re we also meet our host fami­ly and get to know Mama Chin­lin. Of cour­se I have to buy a sou­ve­nir here! May­be two! After all, you can never have enough Tibe­tan pray­er wheels.

Next we visit the Tibe­tan doc­tor, who is new to the vil­la­ge and com­mu­tes the who­le week bet­ween the four refu­gee sett­le­ments. Tra­di­tio­nal Tibe­tan medi­ci­ne is basi­cal­ly based on the five ele­ments that are con­den­sed into three basic cha­rac­te­ristics of the body.

Bile, the fire of life, wind as a sym­bol for move­ment and slime as an expres­si­on of the liquid ele­ment. If the ele­ments get out of balan­ce, one beco­mes ill in the long run and the­r­e­fo­re the Tibe­tan medi­ci­ne sets on pre­ven­ti­on. A spe­cial prac­ti­ce of Tibe­tan medi­ci­ne is pul­se rea­ding, in which the pul­se is exami­ned with three fin­gers on each arm. Each touch point refers to a dif­fe­rent organ.

By the way, he noti­ces ten­si­on in my lower back and recom­mends that I warm up every day and drink a glass of warm water every mor­ning after get­ting up for a bet­ter diges­ti­on. It has never hurt to lis­ten to a doctor.

At the end of our tour we visit the monas­tery and have the oppor­tu­ni­ty to talk to a monk. Our monk is one of the few who deci­ded for hims­elf at age 10 to enter a monas­tery. Usual­ly the fami­ly choo­ses some of their child­ren to send them to the monas­tery. Sin­ce mon­ks may neither mar­ry nor have child­ren, this was also a kind of birth con­trol in ear­lier times. Nowa­days, howe­ver, Tibe­tans no lon­ger do this, which is why most monas­te­ries are con­cer­ned about their off­spring. So it seems to be just like in church.

Tibetan Family Stories

After lea­ving the monas­tery, we say good­bye to our gui­de and return to the host fami­ly. Final­ly, Mom coo­ked a won­derful din­ner for us and makes us hap­py today with a vege­ta­ri­an soup and Timok, a kind of home­ma­de white bread, which is eaten with home­ma­de brai­sed toma­toes. While Mom lea­ves the house to take part in the local ladies‘ evening, we eat tog­e­ther with Kun­ga, who tells us exci­ting things.

His five child­ren are all big and no lon­ger live here. 3 of his child­ren go to school in India and two of them are now in pos­ses­si­on of an Indi­an refu­gee card, which gives them some advan­ta­ges. So they can tra­vel nor­mal­ly and also do a job of their choice in India. Kun­ga hopes that the third daugh­ter will soon also recei­ve the desi­red card.

The living room of the fami­ly is very cosy, it is cover­ed with many Tibe­tan car­pets, and on the sides are some ben­ches, which pro­ba­b­ly also ser­ve as a bed. It’s real­ly cuddly here and on the walls I dis­co­ver a pic­tu­re of Kun­ga with the Dalai Lama himself!

I won­der how he was able to tra­vel to India wit­hout a pass­port. Smi­ling Kun­ga ans­wers me that of cour­se ever­y­thing can also be bought at the Indi­an bor­der with money. But you have to be careful and car­ry only a litt­le with you. After all, Indi­ans are not stu­pid and know all the hiding places very well. And as it is well known, tho­se who search also find. The visit to the Dalai Lama was an abso­lu­te high­light for him and he says he still gets goo­se bumps when he thinks about it.

For a while we talk about this and that the old dog of the fami­ly lies sno­ring at our feet. He also tells us that nowa­days many Tibe­tans try to come to France. Smugg­lers bring you to Wes­tern Euro­pe for 18,000 dol­lars and the­re are appar­ent­ly some secret ways to get a French visa. Once you get the­re, you’­re on your own. It remains to be seen whe­ther you will ever find a job. Howe­ver, the expec­ta­ti­ons of tho­se who stay­ed at home are high. After all, the fami­ly needs sup­port and the money must first be ear­ned in addi­ti­on to the own rent and the neces­sa­ry cost of living.

When Kun­gas youn­gest son comes home, who is on holi­day with his par­ents, it gets inte­res­t­ing. Becau­se he rides some spe­cial motor­cy­cle and of cour­se Mir­ko is very inte­res­ted. Kun­ga says that espe­ci­al­ly in Nepa­le­se road traf­fic you have to be very careful. Becau­se if someone inju­res you in an acci­dent and you can no lon­ger work, the other side has to pay for you for life. That is why it hap­pens very often that the per­son who cau­sed the acci­dent will try to get rid of you com­ple­te­ly. Becau­se if you get kil­led ins­tead, he’ll only get a fine of about $5,000. Gre­at, I’m sure the thought will calm me down on my next car ride.

I spend the night with my host fami­ly almost slee­p­less. This is becau­se on the one hand Mir­ko sno­res so loud­ly on the right side of the room that actual­ly alre­a­dy the who­le vil­la­ge should be awa­ke and on the other hand becau­se the fami­ly dog Sin­gi has made hims­elf com­for­ta­ble in front of our door and Mir­kos sno­ring is in no way behind. Father Kun­ga, by the way, seems to have the same gene as Mir­ko, becau­se I can also hear him sno­ring through the clo­sed door.

Let me put it this way: Nor­mal­ly the­re is at least a pau­se bet­ween breaths, but if three sno­re at the same time, the pro­ba­bi­li­ty that the­re is no more pau­se in noi­se is extre­me­ly high.

Next: New Year’s Eve Fes­ti­val in Nepal – Hap­py 2075