Fire Under the Snow

At this year’s Montreal Human Rights Film Festival, I went to see “Fire Under the Snow”, a film about Palden Gyatso, a Tibetan Buddhist monk who spent 33 years in Chinese jails. The documentary was simple but well made – it captured the real nature of the monk who drew me into the Tibet movement nine years ago.

I first heard about Palden Gyatso in high school. I was then a member of the Amnesty International club at school and had just learned about the situation in Tibet. A friend of mine, who was a member of Students for a Free Tibet, insisted that I come to see Palden’s public talk.

Just like in his talk nine years ago, in “Fire Under the Snow” Palden tells the story of how he was arrested for protesting against China’s invasion of Tibet in 1959. He shows the tools the Chinese prison guards used to torture him and the other inmates, describing in gory detail how he was tied up, hanged, shocked, and beaten. And yet, despite the horrible pain inflicted on him, Palden la never gave in to his interrogators’ demands that he denounce his teacher as a spy nor did he lie about his motivations for protesting. Whenever questioned, he honestly told the prison guards that Tibet was independent and that he protested for it to be so yet again. After 23 years in several prisons and 10 years in hard labour camps, Palden was released and escaped to Dharamsala, India, where he still lives. Instead of staying in a monastery with fellow monks, Palden chose to live in a small room that I used to pass on my way to temple so that he could continue to work for Tibetan independence.

Nine years ago, Palden’s story moved me more than any other political prisoner’s case had. I was amazed by the small, smiling monk who sat humbly but resolute at the front of the room, with a great sense of humour and deep compassion for the Chinese people and his prison guards, even after so many years of brutal torture. Because of his talk, I joined the local chapter of Students for a Free Tibet (SFT) who had helped organize his cross-Canada tour.

Last year, Palden was attending a press conference in Dharamsala that SFT had helped organize for the Spanish lawsuit against the Chinese government, in which he is a main witness of the genocide being carried out in Tibet. A friend, knowing that Palden la had inspired me to join the Tibet movement, took me to meet him after the press conference. When we were introduced, Palden la held my hand, smiled sincerely, and said “good friends!”

It is the strength and dedication of Tibetans like Palden Gyatso who keep me involved in the movement. If they still have hope, then so will I. It’s infectious – as I’m sure the rest of the audience at “Fire Under the Snow” would agree.

Ma nuit blanche à Montréal

"La nuit blanche" (the all-nighter) is an annual festival designed to encourage Montrealers to come out of their hibernation at the end of a long winter. Museums, art galleries and venues all over the city stay open over-night and the metro and buses run to get everyone home safely.

I met up with a childhood friend and her sweet French boyfriend to check out the festivities. They had met while traveling around Europe and like me, returned to Montreal with a lingering desire to be out in the world. After a photo exhibit of flea markets, we fittingly found ourselves at Bain St. André, an old empty swimming pool that is now used as a venue for photo exhibits, music and dance performances. The exhibit that night was a travelogue of a road trip from Canada down to South America. The artists had a slide show playing on the wall with music that could have been the soundtrack of their trip. The photos, hung from the old piping in the building, reminded the three of us what it’s like to be in a completely different environment to what we are used to, with all of its sights, smells and noises. The descriptions accompanying the photos captured the thoughts that go through conscious travellers’ minds as they try to understand the new environment in which they find themselves. The exhibit culminated in a call to do whatever makes you happy, now – striving to bring the emotions, experiences, and sense of adventure of the open road into your everyday life. It was uplifting to know that there are other people in this city who have the same mindset as me, my friend and her boyfriend, and who have been as deeply touched by their travels as we have been.


Stop number three of the night was a party intersected by dance performances that would organically start in the middle of the dance floor, near the bar, or against a wall of the club. Without fail, the audience gathered around the performers who would dissolve back into the crowd at the end of the performance. My friend, who is a dancer herself, filled me in on all the gossip in the modern dance crowd – who was sleeping with who, who wanted to sleep with who, and who was on what drugs. I was completely swept away by how comfortable dancers seem in their bodies, compared to the rest of us.

Our fourth stop was a free concert by an amazing Quebecois DJ, Ghislain Poirier. In the middle of a huge crowd of people dancing like crazy, I wondered why I had never heard his music before. It was an impressive mix of hip-hop, house, and dancehall with an amazing drummer and MC alongside.


A night out in Montreal wouldn’t be complete without a drunken poutine stop – my first in probably 3 years. For non-Montrealers, poutine is a French Canadian "delicacy" of French fries with cheese curds and gravy on top. It has the ability to sober you up and make you feel guilty for not exercising, both at the same time.

And because it was "la nuit blanche", I got to take the metro home at 5am to my new room in Mile End. This was exactly the night I needed to reconcile me with this city that I used to love… and may grow to love again.