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.

The Call for 'No Losar'

During my last weeks in Dharamsala, the community had been preparing for ‘No Losar’. Taking their cue from their brothers and sisters inside Tibet, Tibetans in exile decided that they would not be celebrating their new year this month. Tibetans traditionally do not celebrate Losar when there has been a death in the family. There is no drinking and visiting friends and family, no new clothes or jewels, and for the children, no pocket money. None of these Losar customs will happen this year, in commemoration of the hundreds – if not thousands – of Tibetans who died during the Uprising last year.

My support for this campaign was not immediate. To me, Losar is an event for Tibetans to celebrate their Tibetanness, and to differentiate themselves from their Chinese oppressors. The two cultures have different New Year dates, which are celebrated with different customs. This call for no Losar seemed to be taking away the one time of year Tibetans get to publicly and proudly celebrate their culture.

But Tibetans’ calls are becoming more courageous and resolute. In the last several days, it has been reported that Tibetans in Ngaba County, Amdo (Chinese province of Sichuan), have posted the following message in their towns:

To the Tibetans of the three provinces, monks, nuns, lay men and women,

Let us unite our strength, and let us not surrender to this evasive system of repression. Let us hold our hands across all three provinces, and share our joys and sorrows.

We must never forget that those killed did not die fighting for their own interests. They died fighting for our just and noble cause and for the freedom of the land of snows.

For that matter we must not celebrate Losar this year.

So long as you are Tibetan, you must not celebrate this Losar.

Do you want to be reunited with your guru? Do you want Tibet to be free?
If yes, then you should cancel Losar celebrations as a political act.

Dear brothers and sisters, do not despair.

(Listen to the message on Students for a Free Tibet’s online daily news show, Our Nation.)

With the idea of no Losar spreading in Tibet and in Tibetan communities worldwide, the Chinese government in Tibet has begun scrambling to assure that Losar celebrations will be held as usual. There have been reports that Chinese officials are offering money for Tibetan families to buy firecrackers for New Year celebrations. The Chinese government knows that the cancellation of Losar will go against their propaganda that Tibetans are happy under their rule. But their domineering attempts to control Tibetans’ lives have only led to the increased politicization of the Losar boycott.

In the last three days, there have been as many protests by Tibetans in Lithang County, Kardze (Sichuan Province). At all three protests, the monks and laypeople called for Independence, the return of the Dalai Lama, and no Losar celebrations. These 21 people were severely beaten and are being held in detention. One of the protesters is now missing. (For more details, visit TCHRD’s website.)

With Tibetans inside Tibet risking their lives to call for the political boycott of Losar, they have won my support. This truly is an amazing and inspiring phase of Tibetan resistance. It may be organic, but it is widespread. It is also very difficult for the Chinese government to control without resorting to brute military force. And as it was during the Uprising of last year, Tibetans inside Tibet and around the world stand united in this latest form of resistance.

Here in Montreal, we will be holding a candlelight vigil to commemorate those who have and continue to sacrifice their lives for the freedom of the Tibetan people. Please join us for this ‘No Losar’ vigil, on Wednesday, February 25th at 5:30pm. We will be gathering at the Place des Arts (near the steps on Saint Catherine street).

For more inspiring stories of courageous resistance, see Students for a Free Tibet’s "Profiles in Courage" countdown to March 10th, the 50th anniversary of the Tibetan National Uprising.

The Special Meeting and Journey of a Dream

Tsundue was the bearer of the good news. He sat translating for me at the public discussion of the Special Meeting, wearing a traditional Tibetan shirt and blue chuba over his usual jeans and old sneakers, more happy than I have seen him in months. In between peoples’ questions and the panellists’ answers, Tsundue filled me in on the final recommendations of the meeting that was anxiously watched by Tibetans and their supporters around the world.

I had few expectations from this meeting. An important moment in the history of Tibet, I hoped that it would not add to divisions within the movement or discourage the passionate freedom fighters that surround me.

A lot of media coverage focused on how Tibetans decided to stick to His Holiness the Dalai Lama’s Middle Path approach. However, the resolutions, as I heard them, were a lot more nuanced. The majority of participants at the meeting did in fact agree to continue with the Middle Path but they remain open to the option of independence if there are no concrete results from negotiations with China in the near future. While no one has put a definite time limit on the Middle Path, I find it a definite step in the right direction. But I wonder how naïve it is to believe that China will now be forced to sincerely approach the negotiations, as some have argued. I think that the only way China will ever take the negotiations seriously is if there would be a third-party moderator. Which raises the question: is there any country or third-party that the Chinese leadership trusts enough, who would actually be an unbiased moderator?

There hasn’t been much response from China since the meeting. However, there has been some joking around town that perhaps the Mumbai terrorist attacks this week were China’s response. Interesting considering that the last bombs used in Delhi were proven to be made in China, and that it is well known that China supplies arms to Pakistan.

I was somewhat distracted during the Special Meeting because I was acting as a production coordinator for a friend from Canada who was in town filming a documentary film called Journey of a Dream (check out the teaser). It was perfect timing for Shenpenn and the crew to get some interviews with people who were attending the meeting, some meat for the more political tones of the film. Interviewing Lobsang Sangye and T.C. Tethong outside the meeting, we all felt that we were witnessing history in the making.

On a personal level, it was kind of strange to be an injie girl showing Tibetan friends around town, introducing them to people, organizing trips and interviews. But it was a great experience to see how films are made, and a pleasure to spend my days with such an awesome crew. I can’t wait to see the finished film in 2010!!

The Unwinking Gaze

On the opening day of the Special Meeting, I finally sat down to watch The Unwinking Gaze, a moving documentary about the Dalai Lama and his envoys who are engaged in the negotiations with China.

The film opens with His Holiness in Canada, a visit during which I – and several dozen Tibet activists – was blessed to receive an audience with the Dalai Lama. The feeling the Dalai Lama evoked in all of us in that meeting, as in the auditorium full of tens of thousands of people, is palpable throughout the hour-long documentary that stirs up one’s faith, one’s sadness, and one’s dedication to this movement.

At one of the most touching parts of the film, after explaining His reasons for pursuing negotiations with the seemingly unwilling China, His Holiness is asked if he ever doubts this policy. He simply and matter-of-factly says, “No.” While I am confident of His certainty at that point in time, it is sadly no longer the case. His Holiness has blatantly said that his faith in the negotiations is getting “thinner, thinner”, to the point where He found it necessary to call this week’s Special Meeting to discuss His policy and the future of the movement. If a man such as the Dalai Lama has swayed in his resoluteness that negotiations were the way to a peaceful and lasting solution to the Tibet issue, the situation must indeed be as dire as we have all felt.

There are many hopes leading into this meeting (for some opinions and discussions, check out Phayul). Mine are that the discussions are fruitful and will leave the movement rejuvenated. And I hope with all my heart that His Holiness’ words will ring true:

“The Tibetan nation will not die.”

Beijing Coma by Ma Jian

Before the Olympics, a friend posted a video of the Tiananmen Square Massacre on his Facebook page. I knew the story of the Chinese Army’s ruthless crackdown, but had never seen such brutal footage of it before. I cried as I watched tanks rolling over students in the street and police indiscriminately firing on crowds. I thought to myself, if the Chinese government, military and police treated their own people like this, imagine how bad things must have been in Tibet in 1987-89 and since March of this year. The same thought echoed through by mind as I read Bejing Coma.

When I heard about Beijing Coma, I was immediately intrigued. All of the author’s books have been banned in China. After he wrote Stick Out Your Tongue, a book about Tibet, Ma Jian was forced to leave his country, exiled for writing truths that the Chinese Communist Party didn’t want others to hear. A friend of mine who protested in Beijing during the Olympics this summer was told many times by Chinese police that she had a “criminal mouth” – I consider her to be in good company.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the interplay between fact and fiction, especially in terms of ethnography and novels. Most of my favorite books are historically or culturally based, and involve a lot of background research. I have been thinking of this interplay as an interesting means of presenting information about a culture or moment in history. But reading Beijing Coma raised some doubts. Having never read a detailed history of the Chinese democracy movement, I was somewhat obliged to give this book the benefit of the doubt and assume that it was accurate in its insight into the movement. But I didn’t feel comfortable with that assumption. Throughout the book, I found myself trying to determine what was historically factual and what was fictional. I was left supposing that, with such books, there is no way of discerning fact from fiction, unless one has done one’s own research or is already intimately familiar with the topic. For those not versed in a given subject then, do such books offer only a dubious source of knowledge?

If I were to take this book as factually accurate, it was striking how disorganized the protests were leading up to the Massacre. The students were driven to protest because of their disgust for their government’s corruption, but they had no real strategy or vision of where the movement was headed. It seemed like they were just making things up as they went along. This gave me a bit of confidence in the Tibet movement as we are definitely more strategic and have a more nuanced understanding of the struggle than the Chinese students did. But nonetheless, I was inspired by their drive to stand up for what they believed in, especially in the face of such a callous government and military machine. Their bravery – even if it was only the “stars in their eyes” idealism of 20-somethings – was enough that the Chinese people came the Square to support them, donating money, food, and supplies.

If you don’t want to delve into the entire 586-page book, you should at least read the last 40 pages. Knowing how the students’ occupation of Tiananmen Square ends, these pages were riveting. I could feel the students’ fear and their sense of outrage at their government. When the Army first starts firing into the crowds, the students cried out:

“The People’s Army loves the people! The Chinese people don’t shoot their fellow countrymen!”

This passage epitomized my disgust that the CCP could order such violence against peaceful democracy protesters. I may be biased, but the students’ demands were neither irrational nor dangerous for Chinese citizens – only the CCP.

As an optimist, I appreciate that Ma Jian tries to end Beijing Coma with a sense of hope for democracy in China, but I find reality much more dismal. Most of the movement leaders now live in exile, there is no “movement” anymore, and those individuals who do dare to speak out are silenced, jailed, or forced into exile. This lack of rights is exaggerated among the so-called “ethnic minorities” – such as Tibetans – whose struggle for basic rights and freedom is so intimately intertwined with the struggle for rights and democracy of all Chinese citizens.

How is it that the largest country in the world is still able to control the thoughts and actions of over a billion citizens and colonized peoples? Ma Jian offered an explanation:

“The Chinese are very adept at ‘reducing big problems to small problems, then reducing small problems to nothing at all,’ as the saying goes. It’s a survival skill they’ve developed over millennia.”

This is definitely something we saw with the Chinese government’s handling of the Olympic Torch Relay and the Games themselves. But it leaves me wondering: how do we force the government of one of the largest, most powerful countries in the world, to address the issues of human rights and democracy instead of brushing them under the table?

Bombs in Delhi

Five bombs exploded in downtown Delhi last night, killing at least 20 people and injuring another 90. More than 400 people have been killed in bombings in Indian cities since October 2005. Many were expecting Delhi to be next target.

I first heard about the news in a text message from a friend in the States. I called a friend here in Dharamsala who filled me in on the details, and another in Delhi who put me at ease.

“Don’t worry,” said my friend in Delhi. “I’m on good terms with God.” I was comforted to hear him chuckle.

Bombs are scary enough when they are detonated in a city where I don’t know anyone. In 2001, I remember watching the US’s bombing of Baghdad on television, stunned that the government and military (and the news machine reporting it) could be so proud of something that was tearing apart human lives and families. I imagined how horrifying it must have been to live there that night.

When bombings happen in a city where I have friends and acquaintances, I worry. I know that the chances of my friends being in the vicinity of the bombs are slim, but there is a gnawing in the pit of my stomach until I can contact them. I remember how worried I was about my mum and her friend who were living in Bali when the second round of bombs exploded there, how my worries were expounded with every failed phone call. It was two entire days before I reached them, during which I couldn’t shake my fear. When I finally got through, my mum told me all mobile phone towers were shut down because the bombs had been detonated with a mobile phone.

Each time I hear of bombings, I wonder: what drives someone to want to kill others like that?

Pent up anger that festers the longer it’s contained. Political and social ostracization. Feeling unempowered. Religious differences.

People all over the world have the same laundry list of grievances, including Tibetans. However, Tibetans seem to be one case where such injustices have not led them to embrace anything so angry and violent – yet. Even in March, when the National Uprising Day protests turned “violent”, Tibetans’ anger was let loose predominantly on property – stores and goods were burned, cars overturned. The people who were injured were unintended victims – as in the case of the girls who were trapped in a Chinese store that was torched – or were Chinese soldiers. In my mind, violence against these soldiers who personally participate in perpetrating violence against Tibetans is somewhat rationally justified. They are attacking those who they see as guilty of attacking them. This is much more understandable than terrorist bombers targeting civilians who are not directly responsible for the violence or injustices committed against them.

Perhaps Tibetans’ avoidance of widespread violence is due to the pervasiveness of Buddhism and the notion of compassion within their society. Or perhaps it is because of Tibetans’ deep reverence for the Dalai Lama and his path of non-violence. Maybe this will all go out the window when His Holiness passes away. Maybe there will be stories of bomb explosions in Lhasa and key Chinese cities in the years to come. That will be a very sad day. I won’t condone violence then just because I am sympathetic to the Tibetans’ struggle.

I can understand that, strategically, there may be a time and place for some forms of violence – such as bombing important buildings or landmarks. But what is the strategic relevance of detonating bombs in a public place and killing innocent people? I fail to see how instilling fear achieves any goals, other than creating fear itself. This kind of violence only seems to rally people against the perpetrators, bonding them by a common sense of victimhood. Look at all the US has done in the last 7 years in the name of being a victim and protecting itself from further attacks – invading foreign countries, torturing whomever it deems a threat, cracking down on its own citizens’ freedoms.

I would like to believe that the world would be able to function without violence, that we could truly understand the adage, “An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind.” But I don’t think it’s possible. Violence and retaliation seem to be ingrained in the human psyche.

Post-Olympic Slump

There is a lull now that the Olympics are over. The campaign we have been working on for more than 7 years is over, and no one seems to have much time or energy to prepare for what comes next.

Many of my friends and colleagues here are discouraged by how the Olympics played out in India. Unfortunately, internal politics within the NGOs seems to have kept anyone from doing anything really exciting. The typical protests and vigils that were held, were only organized at the very last minute and lacked any vision beyond fulfilling expectations of protests. For many here, the saving grace was SFT’s protests in Beijing – they are the only things people here seem to be proud of.

It seems as though we’ve come to a point where we all need a lot of introspection – on personal, organizational, and movement-wide levels. Introspection is difficult enough on a personal level, where people need to figure out where their abilities and skills are best suited, and if they can drum up the passion to continue at this time. I have a lot of friends who are looking for the next step in their lives, unsure of where it lies – myself included.

What is also needed now is introspection about the entire movement, how the NGOs work together (or not), and even how the NGOs operate internally. This kind of introspection will be most difficult because it could require that NGOs and the entire community be open to changing how things have been done for the last 50 years. SFT is preparing for our own debriefing and analysis, but it will be interesting to see whether we will be able to address our internal issues to make us as effective as we could possibly be.

My own personal slump is surely tainting how I see the movement right now. But I already feel a bit lighter being back in Dharamsala where others’ passion and drive always seem to rub off on me.

Rally in Ottawa

On August 15, SFT Canada held a protest in Ottawa along with the Tibetan Youth Congress and the Joint Action Committee. About 200 Tibetans and supporters from Toronto, Ottawa, and Montreal came together at Parliament Hill to listen to inspiring speeches by Tsering Lama (SFT Canada’s National Director), Salden Kunga (member of the JAC), Kelsang Palden (member of SFT and CTC), and Maude Cote (Board Member of SFT Canada).

Tsering’s speech reminded us all of how important it is to take action at this historical moment as China continues to brutally oppress Tibetans, even as the Olympic Games are going on. Maude spoke of her experience as part of a protest in Beijing on August 10th. Kelsang Palden delivered a great speech, which moved francophones in the group to tears.

After the speeches, we marched through downtown Ottawa to the United Nations building. Everyone stopped to watch us pass and eagerly took the flyers to find out what we were protesting about. As we marched to the Chinese embassy, we even picked up some supporters along the way who chanted along side us.


There were a lot of young Tibetans at the protest who tirelessly and loudly chanted the whole day. There were even two toddlers – future SFTers for sure! It was a long day, especially for the Toronto group who drove 6.5 hours each way to be there. But we definitely got our message across that China’s Olympics are not all fun and games.

Originally posted on the SFT Canada blog.

Blockading the Chinese Embassy in Ottawa

The Beijing Olympics' opening ceremonies are tomorrow, and already, Tibet has been on the tongue of many reporters covering the Games. As one CBC reporter put it last night, "Tibet has come back to haunt China."

Yesterday, a group of us protested outside the Chinese embassy in Ottawa. Five people chained themselves to the front gate while two climbed light posts to hang banners reading "One World, One Dream: Free Tibet" in English and French.


It all happened so fast: the troop of reporters, cameramen and photographers arrived, followed by car after car of police and RCMP. The blockaders were quickly surrounded by media as the climbers hung their banners on the nearby light posts. The nervousness I originally felt had subsided because I knew we were all in this together and that people around the world were also protesting. We knew we were doing the right thing by standing in solidarity with Tibetans and their supporters who were protesting in Beijing, Vancouver, San Francisco, and London.


Watching the news back at home last night, I saw my new friends sitting resolutely in front of the Chinese embassy gate. For so many years, we respected the police barricades and peacefully protested across the street from this embassy. But with the Beijing Olympics starting tomorrow and China trying to cover up its human rights violations in Tibet, I am so glad that we took the personal risk to scale up our regular protests. It was a small one in comparison to Tibetans inside of Tibet who risk their lives to speak out against China's brutal occupation of Tibet. But it showed us all that we can accomplish a lot when we stand up for truth and justice.


Originally posted on the SFT Canada blog.

Let the Games begin

The Olympics are 4 days away and I feel schizophrenic. My mind is in a million different places.

We're preparing for the beginning of protests here in Canada. I'm trying to coordinate getting people from 3 different cities to be in the same place at the same time in addition to my own training and preparation.

Yesterday, I got to see Jamyang Norbu speaking to the Tibetan community in Toronto. I couldn't understand much, but I could see that the entire community was inspired. Many of them hung out on the patio of a local restaurant for the rest of the day and late into the night. The atmosphere was very different from the formal talk at the Library, but Jamyang-la remained the center of attention, telling stories from Dharamsala, talking about music and singing songs.

When ever I have access to the internet, I check the latest news from India. There are hunger strikers on day 7 of a fast without food and water in Delhi. Tsundue was detained trying to cross the border into Tibet. While I know it means he didn't reach his homeland, I am somewhat relieved that it was Indian police who stopped him, not Chinese. The Tibetan Freedom Torch arrived in Dharamsala today. I received pictures to post on the website of friends and colleagues yelling "Bod Gyalo" and can't help but wish I was there with them, especially when I called them to hear them all celebrating a job well done at McLlo's. Now they are gearing up for protests in Delhi on the 7th, as are we, here in Canada.

Watching "Buddha's Warriors" on BBC tonight, I was reminded of the intensity of the Burmese and Tibetan uprisings in the past year. I can't believe that the Olympics are already here, with all the craziness that it means for us. August is bound to be a month of little sleep, but like my friends and colleagues all over the world, I AM READY.

Unexpected Inspiration

I spent last week with a unique group of Tibetan freedom fighters, some of whom were ex-soldiers and one who was the most active old man I have ever met. They spent hours arguing over non-violence versus violence, and how to organize a rebellion inside Tibet. They talked endlessly about how they would cross the mountains – all they needed were the bags on their backs and a satellite phone. They were ready to go with just their small group and they were all ready to die for their country.

I stayed up late one night talking with Tenzin, one of the guys, who happens to be the same age as me. The entire time I spent in the sheltered world of a western university, he was serving in the Indian army and risking his life for a country that isn’t even his. While I dream of working to make the world a better place, he dreams of dying for his country so that he may be born in a better society free from Chinese oppression. I felt like our lives couldn’t have been more different, and yet, we were both here fighting for the same thing.

Until I met Tenzin, I would have said I was completely opposed to the notion of violence and dying for the Tibetan cause. I believed that people could do more for the cause alive than they could achieve by sacrificing their life. The self-immolation of Thubten Ngodup has always brought up an overwhelming sense of sadness at what I saw as complete desperation, as wanting freedom so badly but not knowing what else to do. Nonetheless, I respected him for his selflessness and could see how much he inspired many in the Tibetan community.

Tenzin sat in front of me that night telling me he was ready to die. When he left home, he packed light because he didn’t intend on returning. He didn’t tell his parents about his plans because he didn’t want them to try and stop him. Tenzin’s readiness to die didn’t seem like an act of desperation, like I thought it would be. It was the best way he felt he could contribute to the movement. Listening to him, I felt like an educated brat with so many naïve ideas about how to change the world. I believe in Tibetan independence with my whole heart, but in what felt like a very sheltered way. In comparison, Tenzin’s conviction is raw and powerful, and it stirred up a passion in me that had been dormant.

I had to say good-bye to Tenzin and the others a couple of days back. It was one of the hardest good-byes I have ever said because I knew that there was no certainty I would ever see them again. I tried to hold back the tears as Tenzin’s words rang in my ears. But these freedom fighters possess a fierce bravery that I have never felt before and a conviction that is impossible to ignore. I passed them a note before they left in which I wrote the words I couldn’t have said out loud: they had inspired me and I would support them in their journey in whatever way I could.

Obituary of A Marcher: Pema Tashi

A few days before his death, Pema Tashi told his best friend, Leki Dhondup, that “Tibet has given me so much and I want to give back to the cause. If necessary, I will contribute my life to the struggle.” On May 10th, Pema drowned in the Kosi River at Kakri Ghat, Uttarakhand, during the March to Tibet.

Born in Arunachal Pradesh to non-Tibetan parents, he decided to become a monk by the age of six. Pema delighted his parents with his decision and journeyed down to Sera Mae Monastery to take his vows of monkhood. When he saw the announcement about the March to Tibet, he said, “I was happy because I had always wanted to see Tibet. I have lived in a Tibetan community for a long time and have always viewed Tibetans as compassionate people and this motivated me to join the march. Since I have made up my mind to go on this march, I am fearless.”

When arrested with the other 100 Core Marchers at Dehra, Himachal Pradesh, Pema said “I felt the agony and the status of a homeless refugee.” Once released from house arrest, Pema rejoined the march only to develop problems walking. They allowed him to switch to the tent building crew where he earned the reputation as a hard worker and a joker. In fact, everyone knew of Pema’s infectious joking and his friend Leki said, “he couldn’t be quiet for a minute.” He eventually got the nickname “Man of the March.” Other marchers would never refer to him as Pema. In fact, most didn’t even know that name. They simply called him “the Man.” It was said that without him on the march, there would be no joking.

As they approached what was to be Pema’s last campsite, he marveled at “the beauty of newly entered hills and felt a sensation of coming to his homeland.” After building the tents at the campsite, Pema jumped into the cold and cloudy water of the river, apparently hitting his head on a rock. He spent too long underwater and passed away a few hours later at the Almora Hospital. The entire march spent several hours in prayer for his soul and a team of monks stayed up all night praying over his body. His body was cremated the yesterday morning with a mountain of khatas.

The news was so unexpected that it has shocked us all. Pema’s passing threw me into an emotional tailspin, renewing my worries about the marchers and what awaits them as they get closer to the border. While his death was a horrible accident, Pema had said that he would be willing to sacrifice his life for the struggle for independence. It has made me think a lot about what determination means and the significance of martyrdom in a non-violent movement. I am deeply moved by the sacrifice of Pawo Thubten Ngodup, whose self-immolation still makes me cry every time I see footage of it, and the willingness of many of the marchers, including Pema Tashi, to give their lives for what they believe in. However, I must admit that I disagree with martyrdom as a tactic. The March is an amazingly patriotic and inspirational gesture that is succeeding in raising awareness about the Tibetan cause, but I personally don’t want any more of the marchers to die for it. I believe strongly that every single marcher is more of a contribution to the Tibet movement alive than if they died trying to cross the border. Unfortunately, such decisions are out of my hands.

To a hard worker, a lover of jokes and a warm person with a brave heart who died before he reached his home, everyone on the March to Tibet sends our prayers with you, Pema.

The March to Tibet

My first few days back in India were spent on the March to Tibet. The day before I flew into Delhi, 250 marchers set out on their way north towards the India-Tibet border after having spent 10 days in the capital praying for those Tibetans who died protesting for independence and participating in protests against China’s brutal crackdown and the Olympic torch relay.

I have been posting updates about the March from Dharamsala and Bangkok for the last 2 months that my colleagues on the March e-mail or call me with. Friends on the March have been calling me to tell me about how hot it was that day or how much they missed the iced coffee or their favorite breakfast spot back in Dharamsala. I’ve posted the photos they send and I have watched all the live streaming videos. But being there in person was entirely different.

Getting from Delhi to the where the marchers were camped – two days’ walk – took 8 hours. One person would point us in one direction, and then the next person would point us in an entirely different direction. Entire groups of people would surround me and my Tibetan friend as he explained in Hindi where we were trying to go, staring at us like they had never seen something so odd. We were crammed into an extremely noisy shared taxi with a dude who kept rubbing my knee and the other people staring at me. We were lost for hours with a driver who we ended up befriending because both he and my friend grew up in Nepal. We shared a dinner with him at McDonalds’ and in the end, he refused to let us pay once he learned that we were joining the March to Tibet. Eventually the driver left us at a hideous Western-style cinema hall that stood out like a sore thumb in the dingy dusty outskirts of Delhi, and we were finally rescued by two drivers from the March.

I spent the next 4 days as one of the marchers. I walked with them, sweated under the hot sun with them, splashed in the cool water at rest stops with them, ate with them, talked with them, was eaten alive by mosquitoes with them, and hummed along with their prayers and singing of the national anthem. I was reunited with the monks that I made practice media soundbites despite their broken English at the non-violent training before the March started. I made friends with the Western support marchers whose presence I had previously been very judgmental about. I overcame my own insecurities about bathing and squatting in the bushes surrounded by 250 monks and nuns. I had some Tibetan lessons. I got a tan. And I picked up an amoeba! It was 4 of the most fulfilling days I’ve had since I’ve been here. The dedication of the marchers and the volunteers who are making the march possible was so inspiring. They have given up the commitments and responsibilities of their daily lives to stand up for their country-men and -women, and for their country. It made me feel spoiled that being here and fighting for their freedom is my job, that I get paid to do this while they are sacrificing their livelihoods to do the same thing.

When it came time for me to leave, one monk friend came to give me a khata – the white Tibetan scarf given as a blessing for a safe journey. Even though I had only been with them for 4 days, I was given khata after khata, until they were falling off my shoulders. Normally when Tibetans thank me, I feel really awkward. But this time I was really touched. The marchers held my hand and we yelled “Bho Gyalo” – which has come to mean more to me each time I yell it.

As we drove away, I couldn’t help but wonder if there were some of them we would never see again. This thought has followed me back to Dharamsala and has left me an emotional blob, overflowing with a muddle of love, longing, frustration, anger, discouragement, and sadness. I’ve been running through scenarios in my head of what could be lying ahead for my friends. They could be arrested by Indian police and allowed no where near the border, which could frustrate them to the point where they do something drastic like self-immolation. They could hand in their registration certificates (their only identification as “foreigners” in India), plunging them into a legal quagmire. They could be ignored by Indian officials and allowed to approach the Tibet border. As they cross into their homeland, they could be shot by Chinese soldiers like those who were shot trying to escape over the Nangpa-la pass two years ago. Or they could be carted away to be tortured in Chinese jails. These thoughts have been overwhelming at times, making me alternately want to run away from it all and join them again. But in my stronger moments, I am committed to staying here so that when something happens to the marchers, we can make sure that the world knows. And when they reach Lhasa (or are forced to return to Dharamsala), I will be there to welcome them.

Torch Relay Protest in Bangkok

It was a small but dedicated group of about 300 protesters (and perhaps as many members of the media) who turned out to protest the Olympic Torch Relay in Bangkok outside the United Nations building.

Before the torch arrived, several small groups of Chinese people came running towards us and gathered in front of the UN building after we had been pushed back by police. There was such a tangible sense of anger coming from them as they yelled “One World, One Dream, One China” and “We love Tibet.” When they sang their national anthem, it sounded like this fiercely nationalistic “in your face” jeer.

After many minutes when the police were obviously nervous about the two sides clashing, the pro-China group was forced to the other side of the boulevard. As we looked across at the Chinese group, it was striking how few police were scattered along their line compared to the solid police line in front of ours.

When the torch finally came, the Chinese were more of a threat to the smooth passing of the relay. They all flooded into the street, surrounding the torch and blocking it almost completely from view. The one Tibetan in the group with tears in his eyes almost jumped the police fence, with others ready to follow. But we remained in our place – much to the surprise of the police and the media – and continued to yell “No Torch in Tibet.”

Throughout the whole event, Chinese people kept walking through our group, yelling things in Chinese that sounded so mean. They made one protester cry with their angry yells of “One China” right in her face. The Chinese government and media have been criticizing pro-Tibet protesters as being violent, but the pro-China people at the torch relay today were much more violent and confrontation in their message than we were.

Many of the pro-Tibet protesters were left feeling angry and frustrated that the Chinese protesters really didn’t understand why we were there. We were not angry at them – although they definitely seemed angry at us. We were merely criticizing their government’s brutal crackdown and policies in Tibet. After dinner of momos amongst new friends, our mood lightened. We all agreed that the whole world is talking about Tibet for yet another day, and so our protest was a success. Our rag tag team raised our glasses and yelled “Bho Rangzen”. Tibet will be Free.

Much Needed Inspiration from Jamyang Norbu

One of the drawbacks of living in a country in which you are not a citizen is the awkwardly timed, but required, exits from the country in order to maintain a valid visa. So here I am in Bangkok in the middle of a “revolution” and, despite essentially living on the internet, I feel a million miles away from all the action and my friends.

And then comes along Jamyang Norbu’s latest commentary, which makes me feel again that I am (and we all are) indeed, in the middle of a Revolution. And we’re not going to stop.

(For those who don’t know, Jamyang Norbu is an activist, author, and thinker within the Tibet movement, perhaps mostly respected amongst the so-called “radicals”. This is a great piece describing the protests inside Tibet and what’s been going on in Dharamsala with the Tibetan Government-in-Exile and the NGOs.)

More Unfounded Chinese Accusations

I woke up this morning to reports of China accusing the Dalai Lama of organizing suicide attacks. The only basis for such accusations are stores of weapons that have supposedly been found in monasteries in Tibet, including 176 guns, 13,013 bullets, 7,725 pounds of explosives, 19,000 sticks of dynamite and 350 knives!

Knowing about China’s use of agitators in the 87-89 protests (and their suspected use of them this times around), as well as their tendency to construct “evidence” makes these accusations almost impossible to believe. Especially since they are mentioned in connection with insane comments like the Dalai Lama is a “wolf in monks’ robes, a devil with a human face, but the heart of a beast” and his followers as the “scum of Buddhism.”

Only a couple of days ago, the monks at Kirti Monastery in Dharamsala released a statement with descriptions of the raid of their brother monastery in Amdo, Northeastern Tibet (Sichuan Province). Monks at Kirti Monastery in Tibet reported that their rooms had been raided by Chinese troops, who forced many of them at gun point to pose for photographs. They were made to hold photos of the Dalai Lama and the Tibetan national flag, suggesting that they were following his orders. A small monk was forced to hide half his body underneath the wooden floorboards and made to place his hands on the keyboard of a lap top computer. One of the monks managed to make a secret phone call to the Kirti monks in Dharamsala, saying, “I am worried that the CCP is creating false evidence to try to show that His Holiness the Dalai Lama is the mastermind behind the protests in Tibet. The security forces forced us to act out these scenes against our will with guns pointed at us. I appeal to the people of the world, do not be persuaded by these fake videos.”

So even if China shows the world photos of the supposed weapons they’ve found in the monasteries, can we believe them? The monks at Kirti Monastery in Tibet said that the weapons confiscated were on display in the chapel of the monastery’s protector deity. These items are ancient traditional offerings to the protectors, and symbolize the overcoming of obstacles and negative emotions, not evidence that they were taking up arms as Xinhua alledged, and which has not been extrapolated into rhetoric of “suicide attacks.” It’s almost as if the Chinese government is making these statements to justify the fact that they have arbitrarily arrested 572 monks from Kirti Monastery alone.

Thankfully some media coverage is offering both sides of the argument.

“There is no question of suicide attacks,” Samdhong Rinpoche, prime minister of the government-in-exile in Dharmsala, India, said Tuesday. “But we fear that Chinese might masquerade as Tibetans and plan such attacks to give bad publicity to Tibetans.”

Experts on terrorism and security risks facing Beijing and the Olympics have not cited any Tibet group as a threat.

Scholars said the claim of suicide squads was a calculated move by China allowing it to step up its crackdown in Tibetan areas.

“There is no evidence of support for any kind of violence against China or Chinese,” said Dibyesh Anand, a Tibet expert at Westminster University in London.

Instead, Beijing is “portraying to the rest of China and the rest of the world: these people are basically irrational” and that there was no room for compromise, he said.

Tuesday’s accusations could also further divide the Tibetan government-in-exile and other groups like the Tibetan Youth Congress, which has challenged the Dalai Lama’s policy of nonviolence, Anand said.

“This is a way of pressuring the Dalai Lama to renounce Tibetans who have created violence,” he said.

Andrew Fischer, a fellow at the London School of Economics who researches Chinese development policies in Tibetan areas of China, dismissed Wu’s warnings as “completely ridiculous.”

What China is trying to do “is justify this massive troop deployment, a massive crackdown on Tibetan areas and they're trying to justify intensification of hard-line policies,” Fischer said.

I really hope that the world is smart enough to realize that this is the latest in a long stream of empty rhetoric by China – a government that is scared of how the international community disagrees with their crackdown in Tibet and their oppression of the Tibetan people.

March 31st – International Day of Action for Tibet

Yesterday marked an International Day of Action for Tibet, with actions in 80 cities in 27 countries around the world. I unfortunately wasn’t present at any of them, but here are some of my favorite accounts:

In Washington D.C., Tibetans and supporters became quite mob-like in front of the Chinese embassy, throwing rocks, water bottles and flags. Then…

…an amazing thing happened. The Drepung Loseling monks, who had earlier performed ritual for the dead in Tibet and had led the march to the embassy, calmly walked, chanting, to the very front of what I would have pretty much called a mob at that moment; people enraged at the torture and murder of their familes and friends in Tibet, looking quite prepared to smash their way into the Chinese embassy as we have seen happen elsewhere recently. But no - within a few seconds all of the defiant roaring that had been echoing off the buildings died down, and virtually everybody sat down on the ground and joined the monks' chant. Many police cars were descending on the scene by that time, but the officers emerged to find no riot at all but a large group of people mostly sitting and chanting. After a final singing of the Tibetan National Anthem, with their backs turned to the embassy, the crowd began to disperse.

Chalk one up for the monks.

The Tibetan Youth Association in Europe painted this beautiful graffiti in Zurich, Switzerland:

Our March Coordinators Finally Released

Last night, the 3 leaders of the March to Tibet who remained in detention days after all the other marchers had been released, were finally freed. A huge group of us went to welcome Tenzin Tsundue, Tenzin Choeying, and Lobsang Yeshi home. It was an emotional reunion with lots of hugs and cheers of "Bhod Gyalo" (Victory for Tibet). But it was a bittersweet victory. I could see in my friends' eyes that being stuck in a government guest house for the last 15 days, with limited access to news, unable to contribute to our work, was very frustrating and depressing. Although Tsundue has been jailed in Tibet, I think this was harder for him than the others. His every breath and waking moment are dedicated to fighting for his country, that having his hands tied behind his back for 15 days seems to have left him upset and shaken. But today all three are back at work, making up for lost time with dedication that I truly admire.

Crackdown in Tibet, China's Racist Leaders, and the Lighting of the Olympic Torch

Reports of protests have dwindled in the past few days, as Chinese troops have poured into Tibet and the ethnically Tibetan areas of China. There has been a lot of scary photos of massive troops amassing in Tibetan cities and towns. In Lhasa, police have been going door to door, removing people who were involved in the protests, and reportedly, even those who didn't have identity cards. Sounds a lot to me like how the SPDC were removing people in Burma, with no concrete evidence that they were actually protesting.

We found this footage of the crackdown in Lhasa this weekend:

Yesterday, the Sunday Times released a report with short biographies of 3 Chinese decision-makers who are responsible for the crackdown: Wang Lequan, Zhang Qingli, and Li Dezhu.

Wang... heads the party in Xinjiang, which, like Tibet, is a vast, remote and resource-rich region troubled by separatism. [He] sits on the powerful politburo in Beijing and has assumed overall direction of policy in both places. He devised the model that has stifled Muslim culture in Xinjiang, staged political trials and executions, poured in millions of Chinese settlers and extracted mineral and energy resources to feed the economy. On March 10th, he told China Central Broadcasting: “No matter what nationality, no matter who it is, wreckers, separatists and terrorists will be smashed by us. There’s no doubt about that.”

His henchman... is Zhang Qingli [the Communist Party Secretary in Tibet]. Zhang is the man who called the Dalai Lama “a wolf in monk’s clothes, a devil with a human face”. He rose up the hierarchy in Xinjiang and was transferred to Tibet in 2005 as a reward for his loyalty. He accelerated campaigns against Tibetan culture and religion, brought in more settlers and stepped up the commercial exploitation of Tibet’s huge reserves of raw materials. Zhang is on record as saying that “those who do not love the motherland are not qualified to be human beings”.

The third most influential figure is Li Dezhu, the party’s racial theoretician. Until recently the head of its innocuous-sounding Ethnic Affairs Commission, Li wrote the textbook on destroying independent cultures and disintegrating religious minorities by promoting materialism. In 2007 he elaborated the theory of what he called “cultural security” for China in an article in a party journal called Seeking Truth. In it he unfolded a radical change in Chinese policy, stating that its aim was no longer to preserve minority cultures such as the Tibetans but to refashion them.

These three men make me sick. They are nothing more than modern day nazis with disgustingly racist ideas of why and how to wipe out an entire culture.

On a normal day, this article would have been so discouraging. But today was the day the Olympic torch was lit in Greece, and Tibetans and their supporters gave China an earful. Tenzin Dorjee, the Deputy Director of Students for a Free Tibet, confronted IOC President Jacques Rogge, asking for a meeting to discuss the situation in Tibet and proposed torch relay through the area. And then, during the torch lighting ceremony...

The reporter in the closing of this video said it best:

"The entire event was overshadowed by the political controversies surrounding these games."

This is what we do!

Tears for Tibet

I broke down in tears for the first time since the protests started in Tibet. We received images about one hour ago of the bodies of Tibetan protesters, beaten and bloody with wounds from bullets and things I couldn't even identify.

We've been working so hard here, with hardly a moment to relax, so there has been no time to emotionally deal with the stories we've been hearing. But seeing the images of 5 dead men, and being reminded of the fragility of human life, made all my emotions erupt. These were breathing living people who gave their lives fighting for their freedom. People all over Tibet are ready for this sacrifice, but China continues to coldly stand by, telling lies and playing games.

China is blaming the Dalai Lama for instigating the protests, asserting that only 10 people have been killed and denying that troops and police have used any force against the protesters. For now, they have been able to largely block the flow of information and have been attempting to portray Tibetans as violent agitators, while Chinese civilians, shop owners, police, and soldiers are portrayed as victims.

However, we've seen that despite China's information blackout, reports and photos of events inside Tibet have continued to emerge. It will only be a matter of time before we receive more details of China's brutality in Tibet.

Watching the tension mount here in Dharamsala and seeing how it is affecting people here makes me worry. Already there have been people fainting at demonstrations and so much tangible anger, it feels like a bomb with a fuse that is burning quickly. Judging from how my colleagues and I reacted to the disturbing photos tonight, and knowing how much resentment is buried in so many Tibetans here, I am worried how the community will react when these photos come out. It could be the last remaining millimeter of the already short fuse. If these photos circulate in Tibet (or any of the horrible images that are undoubtedly out there), I can only imagine that it will similarly ignite the anger and resentment that we have begun to see coming to the surface. It only takes so much provocation.