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Aura Comm - Vol 4 - Issue 6
Delhi, India
January 30, 2005
Tashi Delek,
An ancient Buddhist saying here goes; there is no sweet companion like pure charity. For me this truth is indeed a blessing. For those of you who have participated in this cause over these past 3 years through your generous donations and sponsorships, I know this timeless perspective rings true for you.
As we wind up the celebration of Tashi's birthday, he offers to make a call to my dear friend Dolma. Earlier Tashi informed her I was coming and she wanted to reach out on his special day...
She has now immigrated to Belgium in an attempt to further her education and assist her struggling family back in Dharamsala. Dolma la is deserving of a sponsor and you can read more about her at www.auraimports.com (click on sponsorships in the upper right corner). My first Tibetan friend back in early 2002, she was the one to introduce me to the beauty of Tibetan jewelry design. Her mother desperately needed an emergency operation back then and through the sales from Aura Imports we were able to provide it. With that gesture we have developed a close family bond for life. Acting as my representative Tashi visited Dolma and her mother when she was recovering in the hospital. Their friendship has blossomed quite nicely over the years. This brings me great joy.
It's good to hear her voice and we chat away. I can tell her spirit is low. She deeply misses her family, yet made this difficult decision to immigrate is for their benefit. When I give the phone to Tashi he projects a concerned face as she began to cry. She is having serious problems with her kidneys and she will not have a long life she says. Tashi feels Dolma urgently needs some Tibetan medicine and with that a donation is made on the spot in the name of Darya Tamjidi to purchase what's required. Tashi will immediately consult a Tibetan doctor (unavailable in Belgium) and send to her via DHL. Thank you Darya for offering these funds to use as I see fit. This will help ease her suffering. I'm sure she will write you in deep appreciation,
Yangzom and Tashi both want me to see their hostel. This is very special for them I can see. So off we go into the mild Delhi night. (These visits are quite time consuming and somewhat grueling as it takes almost an hour to drive to each location.) Yangzom's room is in a rather funky area of town even by Delhi standards. She takes me up a dimly lit trashed flight of stairs past dark strangers with starring eyes to her heavily padlocked flat. (To me, this is not a place for a young girl, but every rupee counts.)
Two very tiny rooms house four female Tibetan students. A thin foam pad is on the floor of each room with two girls per bed. One hot plate and that's it folks. As basic as you can get I assure you. She beams with pride in presenting her first home away from home, showing me their makeshift altar to the Dalai Lama. There are photos of Scotty, Maria and myself on a little table. On the wall she has taped a page of handwritten affirmations such as; Give people more than they expect and do it cheerfully! Very precious I assure you. I can see this visit means a lot to her. She is very happy I am there.
Then onto the Tibetan Youth Hostel to visit Tashi's quarters. This grand Tibetan style building with beautiful grounds is very nice. Quite impressed by the facility I notice a large sign over the huge entrance door proclaiming in both Tibetan and English: "Come to learn. Leave to serve." Taken to his tiny room he fires up his computer with pride and proceeds to show me images from his recent successful "Tibetan Student's Alliance Bike Rally". He initiated and organized a most tremendously effective campaign. Twelve students sporting Tibetan colors rode motorcycles that within 30 days covered 28 major Indian cities. Tashi leads the charge and after giving numerous interviews to the media to raise awareness on many vital Tibetan issues, he has become quite respected in this community. My heart is full of pride for this valiant effort. To see him come so far in these past 3 years brings me great joy. You've done a very good thing Maria. This would not have been possible without your love and support.
As we sat and looked at photos I notice Rashmi is reading one of Tashi's books about political prisoners in Tibet. She is quite stunned to hear of such a thing. Tashi shows her photo after photo of tortured and executed Tibetans and this moves her deeply. To see this Nepali dig deep into Tibetan issues actually surprises me and with a deep sigh I too enter this unpleasant discussion to help her understand.
On the taxi ride back to the New Aruna Nagar Colony the mood is somber until Rashmi starts to sing a well-known Hindi song. This evocative melody projects a sense of longing that is both bitter and sweet. Yangzom and Yega join in and even the scowling face of our driver softens with a smile as he hears these three gentle voices. Gazing towards the glittering starlit Indian night, I too listen with deep pleasure and sense a healing of the heart.
Back at my room I decide to flick on the TV (first one I've seen so far) and do a little channel surfing. Up pops "Indian Idol" with the same set and theme music as our version. What a hoot I assure you. They even had a mean spirited judge that everyone hates. When the entire audience would applaud with rousing approval of a performance, the camera would pan to this frowning Indian big-shot producer with his arms folded in disgust. Tears flow as each dream-filled contestant is torn to shreds by this goon. I guess the formula works.
Blowing my nose reveals an unbelievable amount of dark gunk that I accrued in only one day of traffic in India. Washing my face there appears to be grit in my eyes. It is most concerning that these bright and eager students are subjected to this environment in order to further their goals. Yet there is no other option, for Delhi is the nerve center for their opportunity of a higher education.
Five days before I left for Asia I was scheduled to have oral surgery and a tooth implant. Because of the Ventura county mudslides it was physically impossible to come down the mountain and make the appointment. A temporary tooth was glued onto what was left of the miniscule stub. Well, I guess it was time for that baby to pop off revealing an open bleeding jaw. Saturday night in Delhi India at a Tibetan refugee camp seemed less than ideal timing. I'm told I can visit the local dentist at the Tibetan medical Clinic in the morning. Dr. Thompson, if you are reading this, that second attempt at dental bondo was good for only so long. Are you available for a house call? (Just kidding.)
Awaking in the morning to the sound of my neighbors blaring Hindi music and the remembrance of a gaping hole in my mouth. I gymnastically place the temp loosely back in position and off I go to breakfast where it continues to give me problems. Tashi immediately escorts me to the clinic. The kindly doctor greets us as he buttons up his white jacket and through a tedious translation cycle finally informs me they have no dental glue. So I guess the tooth is out when I eat and back in when I smile. Lovely.
Rejoining the group at breakfast the subject of Tenzin Yega's upcoming operation is discussed. Although happy about this dramatic opportunity it becomes apparent that this is a foreboding topic on a few levels. First of all she was scheduled to have the procedure last November until her father Thupten Choephel fell seriously ill with what is later determined to be colon of the cancer. He is now placed in the Mahavir Cancer Hospital. Yega asks for your prayers. She would not leave his side and because the needs of the family are great her surgery was postponed. Now he is a little better she says and has chosen to have her procedure within the next month.
For those of you who may not know, a highly respected Indian doctor believes her terribly twisted leg can be broken in three places and straightened out. This will be a painful ordeal requiring two months of recuperating time, yet she will soon be able to walk on her own two feet. She has felt inferior to others for as long as she can remember she says. This lifelong dream never appeared possible for her. Many of you have graciously contributed to this fund (too many to list here, but you know who you are!) and I am happy to say everything is in order. She can barely speak about her beloved benefactors without collapsing in tears. Thank you each and every one from the bottom of my heart. You have a made an incredible difference in this person's life. This candle is lit.
With pocket money for all we decide to do some shopping so Rashmi can buy her first "souvenirs" for her family back in Nepal. I had to explain what the word meant. She finally got it when I said it was an item that brought memories of a journey. Via taxi Tashi directs us to an exciting and somewhat crazy market place absolutely jammed packed with locals. (A kind of outdoor swap meet that seemed to go on as far as the eye could see.) Loud distorted horns blaring Hindi pop, merchants barking sales pitches and all sorts of beggars and thieves. (Time to turn my backpack around to my front side and hold on for dear life.) It was really quite fun yet overwhelming to take it all in. Handbags, bracelets, and jeans; just about anything you can imagine at dirt cheep prices. This was all so new and exciting for Rashmi. At the first booth the three girls spent 10 minutes there, second booth ten more minutes, third booth the same. Soon Tashi looked at me and said "I am feeling very boring right now." He tries to get the girls moving faster to no avail. This was quite amusing to watch. Shouts of Baba were hurled my direction as hawkers surround me in total chaos pitching anything from mini hand carved chess sets to pirated DVDs of The Incredibles. Fun stuff.
Tashi wanted to show us a fast food favorite here. Blimpy Burgers! Inside this funky McDonalds-like establishment there are painted images of Popeye with every character that ever appeared in those old cartoons. They ask me about "The Popeye" and what do I know about him. Wow, I must admit it was quite a stretch to reach that far back into my childhood for intimate details of this world famous sailor man. Listening intently I informed them Olive Oyl was his girlfriend he always saved from the villain. Sweet pea was someone else's kid (never did figure that one out). And of course Blimpy (or was that Whimpy?) would say, "I'll gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today!" Explaining how he never paid Popeye they all laughed at my witty delivery. With this invaluable lesson of the American Popeye culture fully understood they proceed to order burgers, fries and milkshakes with great joy. I wisely select bottled water. After this atrocious lunch the girls are not feeling well and pass out in the taxi. A fun time was had by all.
That evening we gather for tea. Respectfully they give me their full attention as I speak of their sponsors. Although this opportunity is a temporary one I explain, these friendships can blossom for life. They nod with a big smile and are grateful at such a thought. Keenly aware they will be on their own soon, their challenges will be greater than you can imagine I assure you. Yet emboldened with this newfound confidence they now have a real chance at life! Each express appreciation for their sponsors and supporters with a depth that is absolutely immeasurable. They all pray for us to have a long life. My heart is touched by this innocence as I mindfully drink in this special moment together.
Yangzom tells me of the progress of our mutual Tibetan friend Nawang and her nephew Choedak who both reside in northern India near Dharamsala. She says they are sad not to be able to see me this trip. Both are excelling well in school as I regularly received a scan of their report cards from TCV (The Tibetans Children's Village.) For the past two-years their school fees have been paid from Aura Imports proceeds. (I promised them I would try to find them an ongoing sponsor. $25-$40 per month for their school fees, bus fare and pocket money is requested for a minimum 6 month period. Anything will help.)
Nawang is 17 years old and a fine young man. His family is extremely poor and father gravely ill. His dear mother Lhakpa is so stressed she looks 20 years older then she really is. I have written about her and the family needs in previous journals. Their situation is quite tough. Choedak is now 9 years old and is a bright beaming boy with big dreams. He has no father and Yangzom's sister cannot afford his miniscule school fees. Both are so eager at having an education. This enthusiasm is something that must be seen to be fully appreciated. I pull out the funds donated by Robin Rutherford and split between the two boys. Yangzom receives these rupees with deep gratitude and will deliver personally upon her return to the Kangra valley. Thank-you Robin for your generosity. You will hear from them I am sure.
One at a time, gifts are lovingly presented for me to personally deliver to their beloved sponsors. Rashmi holds the hands of her two new best girlfriends and Yangzom begins to sob deeply. Oh gawd. The moment is poignant I assure you as Rashmi surprising bursts into tears herself. Three days together and a bond is forged forever I think. It is so difficult to keep my composure too as I give Tashi a strong bear hug. We all look at each other for the last time and with a pained sigh they disappear into the Delhi night. Rashmi heads to her room with a tear-streaked smile saying this hurts too much.
The flight back to Kathmandu is as gorgeous as it gets. As we veer closer to the magnetic Himalayas there is about ten minutes of severe turbulence that I do not care for. With my stomach turning in knots I catch myself thinking - is this it? Deeply concerned for Rashmi I turn to see this wide-eyed face exclaiming how much fun this is! Every time we fall up and down violently she laughs without a care at this amusement park-like ride. (Who am I to pop her bubble?) Landing safely at the diminutive Tribhuwan International airport we slowly make our way through immigration (Again a hassle with my visa. I learned the Nepali embassy in Washington DC used a single entry visa sticker and hand wrote multiple-entry on it to this dissatisfaction of the officials here. Maintaining my composure I patiently convince them everything is in order and they move me on.)
The next morning (Monday, January 31) Rashmi's father Shyam picks me up via motorcycle and off we go to the outskirts of the Boudha community to a dusty little village. There he introduces me to one of his finest Thanka painters. In a humble room and using an open window for his only source of light, this middle-aged Nepali was painting some of the most extraordinary works of art I have ever seen. The detail and spirit of these paintings are on a museum/collector level and not for the common tourist market. Witnessing his brilliant work I was again struck how incredibly talented he and many locals are, yet so unbelievably poor. Taking some photos and translating through Shyam I tell him I will do my best to present his work in the states. Children gather around as I share my Altoid mints and snap pictures. This community comes to life with laughter at seeing their images in a digital camera. They have never experienced such a thing before.
On the ride back we pass by a large group of people lining and I ask Shyam to stop so I can take photos. A few hundred destitute individuals and families cued up cooperatively for a ladle of food served by Anglos. Perplexed as to what was going on I spoke with a woman from Sweden who explained she and others have been coming every winter since 1999 at their own expense to feed the less fortunate. Everyday they serve about 800 meals consisting of fresh Tibetan bread and milk tea for breakfast and a nutritious meal of rice, lentils and curried vegetables for lunch. Quite moved by their dedication I immediately pulled a donation of 1000 rupee from my pocket. She smiled wide as other Swedes gathered around to thank me. This will buy a 40-kilo bag of rice and feed many for days they say. I must return and offer more for I have never in my life seen $12.50US go so far. I am so impressed with these fine individuals. I urge you to check out www.rokpa.org and if spirit moves you please make a donation to this fine organization.
Circumambulating the Boudha stupa I spot yet another large crowd gathering. I peer into their midst and see an elderly Tibetan woman with eyes closed and mouth wide open gasping her last breath. Lovingly cuddled by her daughter she has come to this venerated shrine to die. A basket is placed at her feet for the family and pending funeral expenses. Monks, Tibetans and Nepali alike prayerfully drop rupees into the container. I am struck how there is some sort of order to all of this. Everyone seemed to play his or her role with perfection including this much loved wrinkled and expired woman. I too stick my arm through the thick crowd and place a donation in profound respect. There was a strong feeling of community interconnectedness that somehow brought solace to all involved. Sad and beautiful at the same time this moment was deeply poignant.
Contemplating these events I stroll back to the comfort of my room next to the Shechen Monastery. Mindfully taking in breaths of the chill Nepali air I found myself at peace. There was no hint of the historic events that were about to unfold.
Copyright © 2005 William Aura/Aura Imports All Rights Reserved.
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