Yesterday and today I got to see the Dalai Lama. Yesterday, my friends and I woke up at four forty-five and carried our blankets down the steep stairs near our hotel that lead to the temple complex. We were searched, quite thoroughly (we had to leave our cameras and phones at the hotel), before being admitted into the temple area. The first time I saw him, it was at a prayer for his long life. All the Tibetans were in their traditional finest, which was great to see.
Today, we allowed ourselves to sleep in a bit until five fifteen, before making our way to a talk he was giving. We all had little pocket radios with the translation of his talk, and the translator would often laugh at the jokes before translating them or get distracted, one time admitting he had missed it and had to get it from a fellow translator). The talk was a basic introduction to Buddhism, though with the translation and the uncomfortable squished sitting on the cement ground often went over my head. It was still pretty cool.
We made our way downhill to the secretariat of the government in exile, a collection of standard Indian style (questionable maintenance but habitable and nicely painted signs) and to the library where the salvaged ancient texts were stored and studied. I was happy to finally indulge in my aspiration to learn tibetan by picking up textbooks and audio cds.
Walking around in a Tibetan community, specifically so close to the government in exile, truly uncovers the futility of ideas of coercive assimilation. Whatever the situation in Tibet, Tibetans continue to practice their language, culture, and tradition with increased fervor. Walking into the temple complex the first thing to see is a huge monument to Tibetan martyrs. There are solidarity marches and solidarity hunger protests for the victims of Chinese shootings and self-immolators. Patriotism, at least as I view it, is reactionary and powerful, even among youths born in exile, though who interact daily with those who have made the life-risking journey into India.
I have one more day before I return to the heat, the homework, and the short amount of time that await me in Delhi until my mom comes and I finish school. Moods come and go, but right now I'm just getting tired and am ready to go home. The overwhelming longing for a washing machine has worn off. I've bought everything I want to give people, and everything I want for myself. And now its getting close to that time. But I'm sure to find more things to do, more things to see, and experience, before my time is up.
Today, we allowed ourselves to sleep in a bit until five fifteen, before making our way to a talk he was giving. We all had little pocket radios with the translation of his talk, and the translator would often laugh at the jokes before translating them or get distracted, one time admitting he had missed it and had to get it from a fellow translator). The talk was a basic introduction to Buddhism, though with the translation and the uncomfortable squished sitting on the cement ground often went over my head. It was still pretty cool.
We made our way downhill to the secretariat of the government in exile, a collection of standard Indian style (questionable maintenance but habitable and nicely painted signs) and to the library where the salvaged ancient texts were stored and studied. I was happy to finally indulge in my aspiration to learn tibetan by picking up textbooks and audio cds.
Walking around in a Tibetan community, specifically so close to the government in exile, truly uncovers the futility of ideas of coercive assimilation. Whatever the situation in Tibet, Tibetans continue to practice their language, culture, and tradition with increased fervor. Walking into the temple complex the first thing to see is a huge monument to Tibetan martyrs. There are solidarity marches and solidarity hunger protests for the victims of Chinese shootings and self-immolators. Patriotism, at least as I view it, is reactionary and powerful, even among youths born in exile, though who interact daily with those who have made the life-risking journey into India.
I have one more day before I return to the heat, the homework, and the short amount of time that await me in Delhi until my mom comes and I finish school. Moods come and go, but right now I'm just getting tired and am ready to go home. The overwhelming longing for a washing machine has worn off. I've bought everything I want to give people, and everything I want for myself. And now its getting close to that time. But I'm sure to find more things to do, more things to see, and experience, before my time is up.
Me and the girls I've been hanging out with
Some patriotic fliers on the street corner
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