The Chinese Occupation

Everyday in India has been starting pretty early.  It is nice to go with the flow of the sun a little more.  I am feeling very relaxed in India and Dharamsala is a pretty hip place.  There are a ton of tourists from all over the world and you feel a little bit more part of the crowd, than a huge sore thumb.  Making the walk to the temple is a cool feeling.  Everybody is smiling and excited to see His Holiness.  I prefer to refer to him in this exalted way, it does more respect to a man who has done so much for humanity.  At the entry to the temple we stopped for our morning chai and I got vegetable momo's (little Tibetan steamed dumplings stuffed with a variety of vegetables) topped with spicy red chili sauce.  We made our way inside, again by-passing all the lines.  This time I abandoned my bag and felt the role of Buddhist worshipper much more.  I was carrying a round meditation pillow, I switched out my jeans for yoga pajamas, and of course I have my trust prayer bead in tow.  Since this is the last day of teachings for this session, it was a packed house, and unlike yesterday I had no breathing room.  I was very worried that I would not be able to sit cross-legged for such a long-time after my experience yesterday.  

I distracted myself by chatting with a young Tibetan next to me.  He moved out of Tibet seven years ago and finds life in Dharamsala difficult.  He is not a monk and wears western cloths.  His English is pretty good and he has a sister in Boston.  Finding work is not easy for many of the refugees and loneliness from leaving their family can also be rough.  Many have had family members killed, tortured, or imprisoned.  The Chinese are ruthless, blood-hungry, propaganda spewing, imperialists and people here don't like them very much.  Of course when His Holiness speaks about them he refers to them as neighbors and does not delve into negativity.  It is a true testament to the phrase "love thy enemy".  The Chinese have murdered over a million innocent Tibetans who simply want to have sovereignty over their homeland.  I had no idea why the Chinese would do such a disgusting thing and spoke to many people about it.  

I talked to a very friendly 70 year-old Tibetan woman who told me that they want Tibets rich minerals, precious stones, and valuable texts that they sold on the black market.  I had another discussion with a brash white women from Vancouver.  She was a big talker and strong minded, especially when it came to exposing the 'red-handed butchers' of China.  She said that Tibetans don't believe in mining, because it destroys nature and ruins the rivers, so there are tremendous amounts of resources that are untapped.  Also, Tibet is a very strategic center for this part of the world.  On top of that good old-fashioned Imperialism is playing a big factor.  Unbeknownst to me, Tibet is actually a very large amount of land, and 1/3 of 'China' is made from this stolen country.  

The Chinese are vicious spreaders of Propaganda and the over-whelming majority of the Chines population live in complete ignorance.  The Chinese elite tell the people that the Dali Lama and rich Buddhist are in fact slave-owners.  While they kill  over a million innocent people and brutally torture prisoners they tell their people that they are liberating a country.  The dissemination of information is China's biggest enemy.  Of course the Internet is a valuable tool for truth.  I was thinking that the best way to make a change is to inform the Chinese population about the atrocities and the conscious of the masses would over-turn the government.  Of course I am not the first to think that.  His Holiness and other Tibetan elite are constantly trying to figure out ways to inform the Chinese people of the truth.  Unfortunately the Chinese government is constantly trying to figure out ways to suppress the truth.  In fact, Google has sold out and now has extensive limits on the what the Chinese population can access.  They also funnel information to the Chinese government, informing them of what individual users view, inadvertentley causing much suffering.  (These facts on Google and their cooperation with China is based on a talk with the women from Vancouver so primary sourcing is not available.  I will try to do more research and so should we all).

As I spoke to the young Tibetan man probably in his late 20's, the reality of these atrocities where impossible to ignore.  The only work he could find was part-time as a cook in a office.  The chatter in the crowd settled and the chanting from the monks ended as His Holiness ceremoniously began his teaching.  Today's teachings where centered on the end of the seven-points to mind training.  It culminated with a vow to abstain from murder, stealing, lying, inappropriate sexual activity, and any form of intoxication.  He allowed everyone to perform any number of these vows.  Drinking alcohol has been pretty unnecessary out here and I have only done it once so far. 

After the first 20 minutes or so monks always come around with large tea pots and pour a round for the entire audience.  It tastes like warm milk with a touch of green tea.  The experience of community was more important than the taste.  On the last day of teaching I started giving out mini-crunch bars to the old Tibetans around me plus the many children in the audience, and like a good grandma one women refused to stop feeding me bread and cookies that she brought.  I tried my best to say no and thank you but she was not satisfied unless I kept saying yes and dunking it in the bowl that they let me borrow. 

On top of the tea, they sometimes bring bread and even hard cash for the robed monks.  Near the end of the morning session old Tibetan cooks wearing blue aprons and worn blue long-sleeve button-ups carry out enormous pots for soup and rice.  When I say enormous I mean hundreds of gallons easily.  A parade of monks come and fill the pots with steaming hot rice and a vegetable soup.  I conveniently place myself near the food( of course) and when the teachings ended the entire crowd made a mad dash.  I grabbed a spoon and started vigorously doling out soup.  I filed my pitiful little plastic bag that formerly housed my vegetable momo's and contemplated how I was going to eat soup with my hands.  Of course, the generosity of the Tibetans shone through as a old man witnessing my torment lent me his spoon.  I sat on one of the temple steps admiring the magnitude of this experience and watched as the now full masses flooded out of the temple.