A home for four and a half months to be fading fast behind me tomorrow. I hope. Tomorrow is a big May Day holiday which means that the train station will be packed with people trying to go everywhere. Hopefully we can get a seat somewhere...on the floor?
Just finished up my semester's work at almost 2AM. Now I can't get it to save properly to a disk. I can't find anyway through these computers.
Hangzhou, China
04.28.2007
So I guess some kids in Guangxi jumped into a crocodile pen and one of them got eaten. A woman in Nanjing fell out of a high-rise building and lived only because her fall was broken by a huge pile of human shit. This China is real odd. Like it. But ready to be leaving. Going up to the great wall in a couple of days so that when people say "have you seen the great wall?" I can say "yes, it was a great wall." Then I have a cousin in a backwater gray gray industrial city in Henan province that I want to visit. I only met him once in my front yard about seven years back. I said "hey" to him, and he said "hey" right back. That was the extend of out cousin-ship until he came to China and we began emailing each other. I think he is a pretty cool dude. He did a bunch of aid work in Africa and has just been travelling around for a while, trying to get a hold on this planet. I look forward to meeting him.
Other than that I am just making arrangements for a big thesis project that will involve a dozen different countries, three continents, and six months. Just need to get some grant money first.
I really don't understand Chinese women's fashion. I wrote a few days ago about how women have ceased wearing pants here...(and have yet to substantiate with photos) .Well, there is now a new style that is equally perplexing: it seems as if the camel toe is in vogue. Is this the way that it is everywhere now? Or is this just China? Seriously, too many women are walking around in these streets with their pants jacked way up into their cracks for it not to be intentional. It just looks really uncomfortable to me. Mira thinks it is because many Chinese women do not have much butt stuff...(really, Chinese people don't have butts) .so they have to show off something somewhere???? Or maybe it is just sexy, who knows. I don't.
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Hangzhou, China
04.24.2007
Check out this statue checking out this girl.
Yellow wine vendor
Xiaoxing alley scene
There seems to be a new phenomenon around China in which many girls have ceased wearing pants. I am not joking. I don't know if they just forget to put them on or if it is the new style, but girls are walking around without pants on. I saw this one lady the other day walking down the street with just a long button up shirt on with nothing else underneath- I watched her, out of sheer curiosity of course, and spyed her underwear beneath her shirt. She was not wearing pants. Is this the new height of laziness or am I suppose to be attracted? Two American girls that I know also picked up on this trend...they now show up to school without pants on...but I think that they are just lazy. Too lazy for pants, man, this is an interesting country. I will run around with Mira on the next sunny day and take photographs of this new breed of pants-less women, as I do not feel as if I will be believed otherwise.
Hangzhou, China
04.22.2007
The following photographs were taken around Hangzhou during this past month. Hangzhou is a city to just stroll in. If you try to do anything else you are just going to miss it. The first photograph is of a balloon vendor who walks along the streets just selling balloons all day.
The photograph is of my Chinese philosophy instructor, Tian Zhan, who, when asked what he thinks of Chinese philosophy, simply stated: "It encompasses everything. It is too vast to learn." I though this was a perfect response.
This is a Taoist temple that overlooks West Lake.
West Lake from the Taoist temple.
Men lounging in the gardens of the temple.
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Some wise words from my Aunt HooVah:
Keep your head held high, a smile on your face, a
Hangzhou, China
4.22.2007
I moved over to the Migrator Youth Hostel that is right at the side gate of Zhejiang University. I ate my breakfast there and could not help noticing how similar this hostel looks compared to all others. In fact, I think that all youth hostels look, smell, and sound the same. It is kind of a funny realization to come to at this point. It is as if they were designed by a sole architect of the international youth. Especially in Asia, it is sometimes really difficult to distinguish what country you are even in from their interiors. They just kind of make the middle state of being that is indicative of travel a little more blurred. I suppose they also offer a small degree of comfortless familiarity. But, all for all, I have no complaints as I really do enjoy sitting around their bright white insides....listening to the same conversations over and over again.....looking at the mild pensiveness that these places bring to almost everyone. Someone always moving everywhere. Trying to relax while far away from it.
Another funny thing about them is that they seem to be little islands of "somewhere else." That is essentially what they are. They seem to be set up to inspire one to venture off into some unknown land of adventure......photos on the walls of mystic land of the indiginos....and all that....wait, I thought the place where the hostel was located would be adventuresome in and of itself. Wait!, I still gotta go elsewhere for my adventure????? How about I just keep going????
Well, that sounds alright. Old time notions of adventure is about the hardest thing to find if you are looking for it. But if your not it is always right before you. The 4x4 prepaid "adventure" tours (oh, I'm sorry, I mean expeditions) to once far flung locales are oftentimes not really for the adventurous. But just running through the outskirts of any city is enough to make your heart pump a little. True adventure is right in front of you always and forever. I suppose this is the great affair of travel.
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Hangzhou, China
04.21.2007
I moved out of my cozy little dungeon today. Mira and I woke up, threw some things in bags, gave my weights to the manager of our building (for which he jumped up and down smiling brightly) and took off. Funny little feeling to be out on the road again after four months of sitting somewhere. In fact, this was as long as I have ever stayed in one place continually since I left my family's home when I turned 18. It feels good in a way to be loose and roving, but in another I know that it insinuates failure.
So I tried to settle down a little in China and make it a home of sorts. To just study Chinese and martial arts, exercise, and just live a routined existence. I have never been too good at doing this, and figured it was about time to give it a go. But I took it to the extreme...and excessive yin becomes yang and all that garble. It also turned spring here and the flowers smell sweet. The road beckons and there is not much else that I can do. The urge to migrate lives on, you know.
So I picked up my rucksack. Said goodbye to the still smiling and hoping manager of my building and moved into a small little hostel next to my university; where I will stay for the next week to finish up my semester's work. Then up north I will go with Mira. Then Mongolia it is looking like.
To Mongolia with a new chronic case of boils . Yeah, I think my tattooing practice has finally come back to bite me. I suppose I was due though. After being tattooed in varying hygienic conditions on four continents, I suppose I should have picked up something by now. But I think that my case may not have been acquired from the tattooing proper, but from a little boil faced guy that was just hanging out in the parlor that keep trying to touch my fresh tattoo. Silly, I suppose, how things just happen. Now I get a boil on my shoulder every two weeks or so. Doctors are as useless as usual. Not too major, it is just a little hindering. Now I will just be known as the boiled traveller....off travelling the world...with boils!
Onward. onward.
Hangzhou, China
19.04.07
I just received an email from an old friend that shook me up a little.
He is a real strong farm kid whom all other men just inherently look up to. He is seriously an archetype of the modal man regardless of what cultural lens one is using- I mean this in the highest sense possible. The fact that he would probably frown on me saying so just makes it all the more true. He embodies the myth of the hero in the flesh- he knows how to stand on his own two feet, when to step forward, and when to stay still. Just being in his presence is to be inspired. He is a man who has the ability to make other men feel good within themselves, his righteousness becomes contagious. He just has it. The Chinese have an old story called, "The Outlaws of the Marsh," which is essentially an instruction manual of what constitutes a good man written out in over a thousand pages. I have been reading through this book for years and trying to incorporate its lessons within myself. But Johnathan has no need for such folklore.....he just already knows it, lives it. .He is a true Hero of the Marsh.....yes, Song Jiang would bow to him, as would I.
Well, Jonathan just wrote me a message to tell me that he appreciates our friendship. I am floored. It just feels really good to have a deep connection that I have always cherished with another person actualized. Spoken of. Shared. I just appreciate that he would make our friendship a point of celebration.
My old travelling companion Stubbs once told me in a Kunming teahouse, "There is no closer friendship than that between two men," and I believe that this deep friendship has been eroded a little in America; where every man tends to act as a floating island.......Sometimes I feel as inanimate as a kitchen table. In the Outlaws of the Marsh story there is such an emphasis placed upon brotherhood, the joy of having a connection with others, the celebration of friendship.
Thank you for that call to Brotherhood. Thank you for waking me up.
So little do I tell other people what I think about them. It is rare when I find the courage or the impetuous to tell someone that I really do enjoy their company- that I cherish the time that we have had together. I just feel too distant, like I am perpetually walking away.
Johnathan, I truly admire you, Brother.
I rejoice in the thoughts of our past rampages.
On to more!
Only a week and a half more of Hangzhou and then I am off on the road again. Going up north with Mira for a couple weeks. We figure that we have to go to the "sites" of China just so we can answer "yes" to people's inquiries as to whether or not we went to the Great wall, Terrecota Warriors, Beijing.....you know, all that stuff. So we are going to travel along the good old trodden route so that all of our travel conversations about China don't end with a bewildered, "Where did you go then?" Like when I tell people that I have travelled through India twice and have not been "anywhere."But we will probably mess this simple plan up somehow.
After this I don't know where I will be. I have been with Mira everyday for the past eight months and she will be leaving me in May. Don't know what I am going to do...maybe I will look around for her for a while in Mongolia. Mope around for a bit...wondering where my lost friend is.
The above photo is Mira. Never would guess that she is Barak Obama's cousin. Funny...there is something about her that just doesn't resemble Barak.....hmmmm....just can't quite figure out what it is?????
These are from my Asia travels with Stubbs in 2005. We had a real romantic notion of travelling to India from the sea. So we took off from Hong Kong and travelled accross southern China, Laos, Thailand, and then jumped a little into India. Stubbs is another Archaeologist vagabond who is just tramping through this world for no real reason at all. Old Stubbs was the guy who brought me to China for the first time.....Look where that got me. Now Stubbs fishes offshore in the big boats of Nova Scotia......and sometimes he is in Alaska on unknown ventures. His art is disappearing- and he drops out of this world and into the one of books with fascinating resolve...he pretends that he hates everybody. One of the best friends a man can have.
Chinese boy playing outside of the tavern where his parents are probably having a visit.....and a taste of that real good yellow wine.
Women going mad for undergarments
Chick vendor. He was a really nice man and seemed to like all of the attention that my friends were giving to his little chicks. I very nearly almost ended up living with a chicken in my highrise apartment as one of my roommates almost bought one.
Chinese restaaurant table. The glass disk in the center rotates so people can spin the food that they want towards them without having to always be passing dishes all over the table.
From old traditional tavern
Here are some more photos from Shaoxing. I really liked that little town. It is too bad that the people I was with were all tired and wanted to go home. Oh well though, I may be back there.
I went over to Shaoxing last weekend to visit the home of the writer, Lu Xun. Well, I saw his empty rooms...but I suppose empty rooms are empty rooms anywhere. It was neat to see where he formed his initial conceptions of the world though. I had to just kind of make myself ignore the fact that everything was reconstructed. haha. This is China. But the town itself was for some good walking. It had one of those "old China" neiborhoods that have been protected against the high rise hoards of modernization. But, in effect, the town was madernized all the more so because it is now a tourist center. It did have some really nice back alleys though. Forgotten about places.
The above photos show me possing with a couple Chinese schoolgirls (everywhere you go in China people want to pose for pictures with you haha), climbing up Lu Xun to give him a hug- while the museum attendents yelled and yelled and screamed. I had to run away. The next photo was taken in an old time Chinese tavern. It was noonday and everybody in the place was drunk of of bowls of really good yellow wine. This tavern is actually genuninely old, and is therefore packed with people just wanting to drink up that wine (in the huge jugs on the sides of the chef and lined up in the background). The last two photos are from the streets and canals of the city's old district.
I guess Marco Polo like this city when he came here. I suppose it is not too bad...well, as far as cities go. I am just putting together the end of my University semester. Too busy with school work to go to class. Funny, eh? Taking Chinese instruction at Zhejiang University. Real good teachers but the class structure is completely incondusive to learning a language. 30 people in a class= Wade looking out the window. I have the funny feeling that I would learn more just studying on my own. The Asian way of language learning also seems to be incompatable with my American thought patterns. I learn languages from using them, from having dialogue. There is no dialogue in any of my three Chinese classes. We just read from books (which is essential for learning characters), and fill in the blanks with the missing word. Man, I want to know how to speak Chinese, not how to fill in some ridgidly constructed blank. Right now the Chinese that I have aquired since December is still in the book. I do not own it....the book does. Languages are alive. I do not feel as if knowing how to abstractly partition fragments of sentences is going to help me to communicate any better. Oh well, back to the bars, the tea houses, and public parks. It is time to just talk.The university may not be the best place to learn language.
Well, I managed to end up back in Hangzhou. Been here since December and been absconding in my crappy old apartment studying Chinese. But getting ready to stretch my legs a little and Mongolia is looking like a good place for doing so. Photos don't seem to want to upload today, so I will leave you with this.
Overseas Chinese in India: Thick Description, II
Lunch conversation with Tony Leong and Lawrence Liang
The following is a record of a conversation that I had with Tony Leong and Lawrence Liang in a high class East Asian restaurant off Cunningham Road in Bangalore. Both of my conversation subjects were of Chinese descent but were born and raised in India. Our discussions were based around Chinese communities in India, as well as various off topic stories, personal philosophies, and random anecdotes. This is a product of my fieldwork on Chinese communities in India, and I have written this piece from my own perspective; therefore, my opinions, thoughts, and impressions are evident throughout.
17 November 2006:
Tony Leong, a third generation Overseas Chinese in India, called the South Asia center in regards to me the day after he gave a lecture there. I was not in; so he called back the next day when I was in Mandarin class, and a message was taken down for me. By the time that I had finished class I was about ready to forget about everything for a few minutes and quickly leave the center. I was then given the message that he called; so I called him back. I was not in the mood to do anything that had anything to do with school and the prospect of engaging in an afternoon of fieldwork was not enticing. I was worn out. I did not want to talk to anybody, let alone in a formal ‘interview’ setting for an Ethnography project. But I called him back anyway thinking that he had procured a book for me (on Kolkata’s China town) that I had asked him to try to find.
On the phone he said that he thought that I showed a good deal of interest in his lecture, which I did, and wanted to know if I wished to meet with him again to learn more about the overseas Chinese of India. I said that I would love to; so he said that he would be over to the center in 15 minutes to meet with me. This was it; the start of a day in the field. Grudgingly, I smiled.
Tony was right on-time. He also brought with him the human-rights lawyer Lawrence Liang; who is somewhat of a legend in the Indian Chinese community. I shook their hands and we sat down in the class area of the South Asian Center for a short talk. They were the typical Chinese looking men- black pointy hair, short, wide faced, a little stocky- and the generations of Indian living did not alter their appearance at all. They were both really talkative and would get loudly excited when they told stories. Their conversations had a way of elevating in decibels as they went on in a particularly Chinese fashion. We hit it off initially, as I rather enjoy the Chinese manner of conversation, and our talks danced around China and our plans to return. Both men have only visited China and, from what they told me of their visits, I had the impression that I had spent far more time there than both of them combined. Tony told me how he was, essentially, a tourist in China; albeit one who could blend in and look like a local. I did not get much information on what Lawrence’s visits to China entailed but they did not seem to be very intensive. He told me that he was planning on leaving for Hong Kong on the same day that I am to speak at a conference in Beijing. They also talked a little about the restaurant business (Toney was a restaurant owner) and how they know of a man who ran Chinese restaurants in India and Indian ones in China. Tony and Lawrence talked as men on top of the world and seemed to even enjoy telling me their stories [I did not know then, nor do I now, what Tony’s purpose was behind his somewhat incessant attempts to contact me. I assume that it is a rare case when informants try to find researchers- (*)]. They both seemed like real jolly typically Chinese fellows, and when Tony invited me out to lunch I gladly accepted.
Lawrence’s family was from south-eastern China and spoke Cantonese. I think that he was also a third generation overseas Chinese in India. I did not get much more information on his family during the course of our talks; which is something that I would really like to pursue later on in this study. Lawrence is a human-rights lawyer who would often take on cases of ideology. I was told that he represents gays, minorities, women, Tibetans, and the whole round of dispossessed people in India. He is also very active in the intellectual copyright debate (more of this later).
Tony’s family was also from S.E. China, and he spoke Hakka as his native language. He told me that his grandparents migrated to India in 1947 [I wonder how they bypassed the deportation waves subsequent to the Sino-Indian war]. His English was jotted with a slight Chinese accent; which implied to me that he did not speak any Indian languages very frequently while growing up. His mannerisms- the way he walked, sat, talked, gestured- reminded me very much of native Chinese in China [I found it very interesting how many of the subtle ways of Chinese communication have stayed so thoroughly intact. It almost leads me to think that the Chinese mannerisms that his grandparents held sixty years ago stayed in-tact in India-(*)].
Neither Lawrence nor Tony could speak Mandarin; though they seemed as if they wanted to learn [which could have been a put-on to make up for their lack of knowledge of the standard Chinese language].
We then left the South Asia Center and got into Tony’s van. We drove over to a really posh East Asian Restaurant which was just around the corner from the SAC that I had never been to before (it was way out of my league). We were sat at the front table, which was large and round. Lawrence sat at one side and I sat at the other with Tony between us-(*). Our conversations were mildly impeded by the large size of the table, and I often missed many thinks that Lawrence said. The waiters were also impervious; they would continually bring and then dish out the food in a way that would disrupt our conversations. Many times Lawrence would be in the middle of making a point when a waiter would come up to the table and interrupt him. The story would then be lost; as both Tony, Lawrence, and, unfortunately, myself were all vying for conversation space in which to show our knowledge. In this setting, I found it difficult to implement a ‘by the book manner of fieldwork’ and I also felt the pressing human need to be a ‘friend’ rather than an ethnographic fieldworker-(*). I had my voice recorder in my pocket and a notebook and pen in my hand but I did not use them, as I felt that they would formalize the mood and chasten the free flow nature of the conversation. I was just meeting these men and I thought that it would be more beneficial to my academic interest if I provided them with an impression of me that was ‘human’ rather than professional. Bluntly speaking, I also did not feel like making this a formal session; I wanted to get to know my informants through the lens of personality; I wanted to have a part in our relationship, rather than intentionally constructing a layer of abstraction around myself. Perhaps this is an example of shoddy field work, but I feel as if I acted in accords with my situation. I realize that may have lost information (I know I did) from this free form "technique," but I also recognize that I may have concurrently gained extra information as well; as pertinent information comes from all directions and not just those that I plan on it coming from. Who can know? Fieldwork is always a learning experience.
When we first arrived at the restaurant and were seated, we began looking through the menu; which was full of nice East Asia delicacies that were all priced in the hundreds of rupees. I could not afford such a meal; so I quickly scoured the prices to find something under five dollars- there was not much. Then Tony and Lawrence ordered a wide range of food and indicated that they included me in this, which meant that I was their guest. I must say that I was much relived and appreciative of this.
Lawrence quickly jumped into conversation; he began many of his statements with, "I have a theory about this….I have a theory about that." He seemed to really like to show himself off, and he would ask me if I have ever read certain authors and so on… He was definitely proud of himself; he seemed to really like sharing his knowledge and was absolutely willing to answer any question that I could put forth. From his conversations, I could tell that he also possessed very well-worn and widely dispersed contacts within the Chinese community- he was the perfect contact. But the one thing that made me question him a little was the manner in which he barraged me with hints and direct statements that would indicate his social status [perhaps a common Asian tactic to allow others to gauge your standing; which, in the Asian context, may be a polite thing to do]. He seemed to be very concerned that I knew where he stood in society- that he was a ‘go to man’ [which I feel confident that he is]. He offhandedly would tell me about how he had to speak at some conference at Yale; how he had a hand in this incident of prestige, and how he took that righteous action…..he wanted me to think of him in a certain way, and was very insistent upon it. He was a show-man; he was a lawyer.
Early on in the conversation I asked Lawrence why he wanted to become a lawyer (Lawrence the lawyer sounded rather humorous to me). He answered simply, "I talk a lot." That he did. Then he went on telling of some righteous reasons as to why he perused the profession which were fairly obvious and do not need to be repeated (desire to help people and all that). I think he loved the attention that lawyers receive in all facets of life, and he seemed to make good use of it.
Lawrence and Tony talked about the President of China’s upcoming visit to Bangalore and of the surrounding political ramifications. This led us to discussing China’s claim over Arunachal Pradesh. I asked them what they thought of this issue; as, by being of Chinese descent in India, they kind of float on both sides of the line. Lawrence said that it is an issue of two sides having different maps. I tried to press this issue further by bringing up the McMahon line and the historical issues inherent to how British-India seized the presently contested land from Tibet [and if Tibet is historically a part of China, as they claim it is, then British-India would have, essentially, taken territory from China]. But they just kind of dropped the discussion. "Yes," Lawrence said, "two different sets of maps." There was nowhere else for me to go with this and I did not really want to have the Tibet discussion anyway.
But the instance of the Chinese president’s visit did provide impetuous for Lawrence and Tony to launch into a tale about the last time he came to Bangalore. I do not know how long ago this visit happened but I am under the impression that it was not too long ago (within the past year). The president of China came to India and the whole Overseas Chinese community was in an uproar. Tony told me about how everybody in the community wanted to greet him but only a few people would be allowed to do so. So the Chinese association in Bangalore needed to be called into action to choose who would get the privilege of meeting the president. I was told that ‘face’ played a large part in this proceeding but they did not go much further this point (instead they opted to make sure that I knew what ‘face’ was- I did).
[I find it very interesting that people of Chinese descent who are at least three generations removed from their homeland felt so much connection to the political and ideological representation of China that they would battle each other to meet the president. This shows me that the Overseas Chinese community still very much identifies itself with China. Both Tony and Lawrence complemented this point by the way in which they continuously talked to me about China and how they had a good deal of knowledge of what was going on there. Or perhaps this was all a matter of ‘face’ and that the competition to meet the president was due to the fact that it would show the social hierarchy of the individuals within the community and really had nothing at all to do with the China. Perhaps, Tony and Lawrence’s desire to show their Chinese affinity was also an extension of ‘face’ motives which impelled them to present themselves to me in the way that they thought that I viewed them- through the lens of China].
It was decided through the Chinese association who would greet the Chinese president, and Lawrence and his brother [I did not seek any more information on his brother (!)] were among those chosen (the overseas community in Bangalore is small; and Lawrence is relatively prominent and his brother was the founder of the association]. So they greeted the president at the airport in the morning and went to watch his presentation. When the president was up on stage doing his president thing a Tibetan broke through the security barrier and dropped a ‘Free Tibet’ banner from the rafters. He was promptly arrested. We all laughed about this in support of the Tibetan. Then the punch line to this story came when Lawrence told me that he was the one who bailed the Tibetan out of jail [he later spoke of this as an act of righteousness- "They (overseas Chinese) were all concerned about the president while I was bailing out the Tibetan"] . We all laughed about this, and Lawrence and Tony thought this was REALLY hilarious. We all repeated the story a few more times- ‘he shook hands and welcomed the Chinese president in the morning and by evening he was bailing the Tibetan activist out of jail!’ The seeming irony of the situation was readily embraced: a Chinese bailed out of jail a Tibetan who just made a political statement against China! Lawrence went on to tell me how he took his case and the particulars of it. In the usual lawyer way, he said that the Tibetan would get off fine and would be alright (he is still on house arrest in Dharmasala). This act seemed to be the capstone definition of Lawrence’s show- a man of many faces fighting injustice on all fronts- (*). The way in which the story was told and the manner in which Tony (and myself) supported it was a mechanism in which Lawrence was given ‘face’ [this also enabled me to see the nature of Tony’s relationship with him].
In fact, the way these two men interacted with each other in this particular conversational setting (telling about themselves to an outsider) was very lop-sided. Tony would talk of Lawrence in a bright way, would support his stories and ideas, would bring up stories by which he could be shown off, and, perhaps most pertinent of all, gave conversational right-of-way to him. Tony also made a few subtle references that indicated his degree of familiarity with Lawrence, which may or may not have been influenced by my presence (to show me his status through routine connection with Lawrence). Such statements as "Ah, don’t get him started on this again," and other such remarks showed that Tony wanted me to perceive his connection with Lawrence as being deeply route [I fully acknowledge that I could very well have exaggerated and given false meaning to these statements as well as my perception of Tony’s social affinity to Lawrence- (*)]. In the midst of all this attention, Lawrence seemed to hardly acknowledge Tony and did not bring up any of his activities. Overall, Tony was into Lawrence, Lawrence was into Lawrence, and I was into Lawrence; and Lawrence seemed to eat it up.
Early on in our conversation, Lawrence asked me what got me interested in China. I answered promptly with, "Old-time Chinese Poetry" and named off a few poets. Lawrence added on to my list with a few names but did not seem to really have that much of a knowledge based in Classical Chinese literature. [Usually when I tell Chinese people this in China they prompt me by asking me to recite poems or they do it themselves; as all school children in China have many classical poems ingrained into them]. This was exuberated by the fact that Lawrence followed up this exchange by asking me if I had ever read some anthology of Chinese short stories; which was a book published by some big time American university of English translations of the original Chinese [I did not ask if they could read Chinese -(!)]. He said that the book was very good but did not say anything more about it. Again, this may have been a put-on to reassert himself as an authority on China. In fact, almost all of Lawrence’s literary allusions (there were many) were of western, and most often American, origin. He made an allusion to Turkish poetry but, again, he did not back it up with any examples [he may have also wanted to go for obscurity here because he was making a counter point to a bold (and very much un-backed) statement that I made about how there is not much good contemporary poetry anywhere in the world]. But, again, almost all of his literary conversations revolved around western topics and ideas.
Lawrence was a very compelling conversationalist (though he seemed to be primarily interested in the speaking portion), and he brought up some interesting topics. One of which was his (maybe his?) observation that people who are really into eating are not as into sex, and, conversely, those who are really into sex show less inclination towards eating. I took this one step further and stated that this could be applied on a cultural scale; in which societies that have extensive cooking rites have rather restrictive sex (like India), whilst societies that wholly engage in sex have limited faculties in the kitchen (such as America). This was simply a good natured discussion and we laughed about the oddity of it. Lawrence summed it up when he stated that he "would rather eat a good meal." Lawrence also had an interesting view on Anthropology. In our conversation we recognized that there is a new form of Orientalism that is occurring in the field of ethnology; as so much information that is being recorded about Asian culture is coming from the pens of westerners. In a time when Asia is becoming increasingly susceptible to western influence, the western idea of the east is also being imported by the east. I brought up the example of how a large number of Japanese youth loved the American movie, "The Last Samurai," which shows Japanese culture through a western lens. Essentially, many Japanese seemed to apply this westernized version of themselves to themselves, and in fact self-fulfilled the exotic prophecies of the west. In point, Asia seems to be importing "Asia" in the same package as western movies, clothing, technology, and language. I was just getting going on this point when it was somehow annihilated by another topic of conversation [I was simply talking far too much and it greatly inhibited my fieldwork abilities-(*)]. Lawrence went on to talk about how he feels that Asian anthropologist need to do the same thing to the west as western anthropologist are doing to the east and that they should go to America and study their culture. Lawrence was in no ways opposed to westerners studying in Asia; he just felt as if the stream is a little one sided and, therefore, the collective stream of cultural knowledge is western dominated. He also drew a major differential between anthropological and ethnographic study. He said that he thought that ethnology was important, but to call it anthropology was a little pompous [these are my own words applied to him; I do not remember what he said exactly, and even when he said it I had a difficult time following him].
Lawrence is also very active in the intellectual copyrights debate, and deals with this issue in both the legal and social realms. His stance is that it is not acceptable for someone to copyright their work, as everything is a summation of everything else- there is no such thing as an independent idea [these perhaps are as much my own words as they were Lawrence’s]. He said that all artists takes influence from other places, and that it should not possible to section off a single ‘final source’ (for the sole monetary benefit of its ‘creator’) as if it is disconnected for all of its reference points. He also viewed this issue as being a manner of a historical oddity, as no one has ever before attempted to prevent all other people from enjoying and building upon their art. Lawrence thoroughly felt as if intellectual copyright laws were ridiculous, and he would get really excited and loud when talking about them. He said that this was one of the reasons that he was going to China; "to fight the debate at its source", I chimed in smiling.
During these conversations we also had ample opportunity to discuss the main reason for us getting together: the Overseas Chinese communities of India. I started out by asking them about the Chinese in Bangalore. They told me that the "community" mostly consisted of a few hundred members; most of whom, such as my hosts, came from larger Chinese communities in other Indian cities. In response to my inquiries about the actions of the Chinese association, which was founded by Lawrence’s brother, they told me that their influence was slight and that they did not do much other than orchestrate a couple yearly get-togethers. Lawrence cut in here and told me about how they had tried to organize a more cohesive force but, "if you put two Chinese in a room together, they will immediately start gambling." He seemed very put off by this activity, and spoke of it as a low point in Chinese culture [he kind of acted as if the gambling at the meetings undercut the influence of the organizers (including himself)]. They also implied that the Chinese community in Bangalore was not really a "community," but rather just a socially associated handful of people with a similar background and appearance.
We then began talking of the Chinese community of Kolkata; which has the only recognizable ‘China-town’ in India. They said that they have many contacts there and then began talking about ethnography on this community. I asked them about how the book was received by the Chinese in India. They began by saying that it was a really good book and that they really liked it. But when I pressed the issue by asking how the immediate study-group reacted to it, Tony stepped it and said that, "They said that her observations were correct but her analysis was a little off." Lawrence then changed his position and agreed with Tony. I then went on a slight rant about how people cannot know the intricacies of their socialization and how people inherently have think ideas of their culture that are not necessarily accurate. They agreed with me but did not add too much more. Tony then asked me about what aspect of Overseas Chinese culture in India I was most interested in. I thought for a moment and then said, "recreation," in hopes that it would provoke an invitation to a Chinese gathering-(*). But Tony just laughed loudly and Lawrence made the self-parodying comment about how gambling and mahjong were the only things that I needed to know.
We then just made small talk, listened to Lawrence talk about his theories (which were mostly based upon twentieth century western philosophy), and Tony taught me some Chinese eating customs [some of which I did not previously know about- (*)]. Then Lawrence’s phone rang and he answered it and got into a very serious conversation. By the time he hung up his mood was changed. He said that he has a client who was just raped in the North of India and how she was at a police station as we were speaking. He seemed very concerned about this and made a sequence of follow-up calls to various people; putting on his lawyer jib as he did so. Tony and I just talked amongst ourselves as this was going on. Lawrence then told us a little more specifically what was happening. It seems that the Indian authorities were trying to get the girl to drop the charges on the account of the man saying that he would marry her if she did. We were all appalled by this and laughed in disbelief.
It was during this conversation that I began to notice how Tony and Lawrence talked about Indians as if they were disconnected from them. The looks on their faces and the tones of their voices when they would refer to Indians gave it away that they were not a part of the broader Indian social diaspora; that they viewed themselves as being separate, distinct, Chinese [if not "Chinese" then at least Overseas Chinese]. The uses of such disassociating words as ‘they’ and ‘them’ showed that there was a distinct dichotomy between the Overseas Chinese and the rest of India. I could also tell that they were not a part of "Indian" India. From the way that they conversed, what they told me of how they lived, their particular conception of ‘face’ politics, how they laughed, their humor, mannerisms, friendliness, all seemed to be very Chinese to me. If I did not previously know that they were third generation immigrants, I would have thought that they hopped off the boat yesterday. I also found that I code shifted to fit the situation, and I was speaking to them as I would to Chinese people in China- (*).
After the news of the rape situation, Lawrence’s mood changed drastically and he became less talkative and quite serious. This did not happen immediately after the phone call, as we carried on for a while as we were previously, but took around ten minutes to develop. Soon the conversation began to wan, and our lunch ended with me attempting to make one last philosophical point, which completely fell flat. Tony then told me that Lawrence was busy and that we had to go- (*).
Lawrence gave me his phone number on an old bakery receipt and Tony made sure that I still had his. We drove back to the street that the South Asia Center was on, shook hands, I thanked them for the meal, said goodbye, and I jumped out of the van and waved them away with mixed feelings- (*).
I subsequently left this meeting with Lawrence Liang and Tony Leong unsure of my success as a field researcher and even as a potential companion. Our conversation ended abruptly, and I kind of got the impression that they were tired of talking to me. But I did come away with a good deal more ethnographic data about Chinese communities in India; which, when it comes down to it, was my main intent. All for all, I must say that, although I did so in an eschewed manner, I ultimately achieved my research goals from this encounter.
Overseas Chinese in India: Thick Description, I
A classroom meeting with Tony Leong
This following document consists of thick description notes of a classroom meeting with Tony Leong; who is a third generation Overseas Chinese that was born and raised in India. Mr. Leong came in to provide a ‘Global Migration and Refugee Studies’ class at the South Asia Center in Bangalore with a first-hand account of life in Chinese communities in India. The following is a record of my extended notes from his lecture, thoughts and observations that I made about its’ content, and a transcription of selected portions of his talk; of which I recorded with a digital recording device. My opinions have been strongly stressed throughout without regard to audience; as this is only a more in-depth declaration of my free-hand notes and not a final product of any kind. Proper English construction has also been abandoned; as its’ restrictive conditions would not properly fit the open and coded nature of these field-notes. This paper is a portion of my larger "Overseas Chinese in India" ethnography project, and thus should be read in conjunction with the rest of the study.
16 November 2006:
It was mid-morning when Tony Leong entered into the South Asian Center in Bangalore. He was a short, black haired, pot-bellied Chinese man who spoke English with a deridingly Chinese accent. He appeared to be full of nervous energy when he began to address the class: which consisted of a center advisor, an Indian co-speaker who was to talk about an unrelated topic, two students, and me. The mood of this meeting was highly informal, and our seats were arranged in a circle. Tony opened the dialogue by asking us students for some general information about ourselves. The first two students, whom were seated to my right, told of some things that they were interested in (which are of no pertinence to this study) and then I told him that the focus of my studies was on Chinese anthropology and language. I directed this statement directly towards him, and his ears seemed to perk up a little.
Tony began his lecture by telling us a little about his life as a person of Chinese descent who was born and raised in India. He said he grew up in the small Chinese community in Mumbai; where there is not a huge Chinese presence. He said that he was the third generation of his family to live in India. His grandparents came to India in 1948, as a result of an invitation from family members who were already there. Even though he was born and raised in India, the strength of his Chinese accented English gave me the impression that he did not have much contact with Indian communities while growing up. Tony’s way of speaking English sounded very similar to the Chinese in the south-east of China; which is where he came from. His soft R’s and choppy manner of speech was almost identical to that of the people who still live in his native region. If he did not previously tell me that he was born in India, I would definitely have thought that he arrived from China recently.
Tony went on to give us a short history of Hakka communities and why they have spread themselves all over the world. He said that the Hakka traditionally lived in Northern China but were uprooted by Mongolian invaders and were forced to move south. Now in motion, large segments of the Hakka community stayed somewhat transient, and have created communities all around the world. He also added that, due to the fact that the Hakka were from the north of China, their language is relatively close to Mandarin [but it is still considered to be a separate language rather than a dialect].
Tony told us that he became a mechanical engineer [he did not say where he studied] while in India and then he worked for John Deer for three years in Iraq. This got our attention and a student asked him to emphasis what he did there. Tony laughed and then made sure that we knew what John Deer was. Then he just restated that he had worked for them in Iraq without any further detail. He also did not mention anything about Chinese communities in the Middle East.
Tony then provided us with a short synopsis of the history of Chinese communities in India; with a special emphasis on the formation of the Kolkata Chinatown [which is the only fully recognizable Chinese community in India]. He said that Chinese first began coming to India to fill the British military needs for high quality leather products. As most native Indian communities have a strong taboo against producing and using leather goods there was a vacant niche that the Chinese willingly filled. Kolkata’s Chinatown now has around 17,000 members but is currently on the decline. Tony then told us that, "Chinatown is not a place where the Chinese run to to take shelter from the locals; it is a place that they build up to keep the locals from getting to them. . . and I can say that it is very racist; they don’t like to inter-mix." To satisfy my own curiosity, I asked him how easily he could move between different Chinatowns around the world and if his Chinese appearance was enough to gain acceptance within these communities. He quickly answered in the affirmative and explained how most Chinatowns have reasonably large segment of people who can speak English and that he fits in pretty easily with this portion of the community.
Tony Liang then went on to explain how the Sino-Indian border war of 1962 greatly decreased the Chinese population in India. During the buzz of this dispute, thousands of Chinese were forcibly put into detainment camps (in Rajastan), and over 10,000 people of Chinese descent were deported to China. When these Chinese got to China they found themselves in a very precarious position, as many of them were born in India and have never even been to China before. This was also a very turbulent political time in China, and most of the deported Chinese, many of whom were private merchants, found it very difficult to adjust to life in communist China. I then asked him the criteria that the Indian government used in respect to the deportation of people of Chinese descent. He responded by saying that all Chinese who were born before 1950 were not necessarily given Indian citizenship and they could be deported. Tony then laughed about the fact that if an Indian was married to a Chinese who was selected to be deported they (the Indian) were deported as well. We all laughed at this, and Tony did so with a little added gusto [this is a prime example of Chinese humor].
Tony also talked about his visits to China. "I was a tourist," he said, "but a private tourist." He then laughed and told us about how he found it novel to fit into the crowd in China; as opposed to India where he stands out on the streets. He spoke of this as such, "One interesting feeling I had was (pause) I wasn’t feeling like I stuck out like a sore thumb." He then added that, "It is nice to be faceless." [this was obviously an interesting experience for him, as throughout his entire life in India he did not look like the dominant population. Then upon entering China, he became a part of the crowd].
Tony Liang seemed to be entirely Chinese to me. His mannerisms, way of speech, and basic disposition reminded me very much of what I have observed in my friends and acquaintances in China. When, at the beginning of his talk, he said, "I think like an Indian," I was a little taken aback. There seemed to be nothing Indian about him [this has been reinforced in subsequent meetings with him]. When I asked Tony if he still felt like an outsider in India, his reply was a simple and straight forward, "I do."
Seekers of Refuge in a Land of No Return:
Conversations with Tibetan Refugees in Bylakuppe
In 1959, on the heels of their beloved Dalai Lama, tens of thousands of Tibetans abandoned their Chinese occupied homeland and sought refuge in India. Recognizing the atrocious nature of the Chinese invasion and subsequent colonization, along with the uncomforting political situation in which they were placed, the Indian government absorbed the mass migration with open arms.
By 1960, it became readily apparent that the Tibetan refugees would be residing in India for an extended period of time, and the construction of permanent facilities for them became an issue of great pertinence. To address this need, the State of Karnataka offered up three thousand acres of jungle land for the construction of a massive refugee camp near Bylakuppe. Thousands of Tibetans were soon sent to this location; where they carved a niche for themselves out of the wild jungle and, essentially, created a "Tibet" upon the humid flatlands of Southern India. Now, forty-six years later, the camp is home to 14,000 Tibetan refugees spanning three generations, towering sky-high monasteries, flourishing agricultural fields, and a whole range of well-established public facilities based on the Tibetan model. All of this provides one with the impression that the Tibetans have created a permanent base for themselves in India; but, as any refugee will readily proclaim, their stay is thought of in purely provisional terms. The exiled Tibetans have not yet given up hope that their homeland will be liberated and that, within their lifetimes, they will be able to return. Tibet is on the minds and lips of the entire community, and, although most of the refugees have never lay eyes on their homeland’s mountainous terrain, it still lives on within their hearts.
The Bylakuppe Tibetan refugee camp was created in the south western portion of Karnataka state, which is located in the far south of peninsular India; over two thousand kilometers from Tibet. This was the first and largest of the intentional Tibetan settlements in India, and was created in response to the need to consolidate the masses of Tibetans who were fleeing the Chinese occupation of their homeland. Initially, the Tibetans formed haphazard habitations around the Indian border states of Arunachal Pradesh, Sikkim, Assam, and Himalachal Pradesh; were they found only modest amounts of government support and lived in loosely assembled camps. For example, in Assam Base Camp, sixty people were lodge in a single hut for months on end and many died due to the climatic change and harsh living conditions. In this situation, the Tibetans took any work they could find, and helped in the construction of highways and other public works projects while living at the labor-sites in tents. This rather unsteady state of affairs provoked the Indian government to construct a very large settlement in the far south of the country for the exiles to reside in.
When I first entered Bylakuppe, my impressions were of a mixed community of ethnic Tibetans and native Indian agriculturalist living side by side in mutual symmetry. On the ride into town I saw Tibetans in the usual garb of the contemporary Indian commoner- off colored cotton slacks and button-down shirts- riding around on motor scooters and talking shop with Indians in the dust brown streets. Bright purple robed monks sped around in Indian driven, exhaust coughing rickshaws. The shops that lined Main Street were a smorgasbord of Tibet and India: Tibetan craft markets stood eave to eave with Indian spare-part outlets. In fact, except for their obvious physiological features, the Tibetans seemed to be nearly indistinguishable from the Indians. But, as I learned more about the history of the camp, these melting-pot impressions quickly faded.
The official reason for the Indian Government’s excessive altruism was that they wanted to allow the decimated Tibetan population the space and gravity needed to preserve their culture. Many Tibetans in the Bylakuppe camp mimicked the above reasoning and said that they were very grateful for India’s understanding and assistance. But I also have the impression that there was a driving pressure on the Indian government to administer a degree of control over the unsettled Tibetans and also to move a potentially militaristic population, with a justified vendetta against the Chinese, as far away from the borderlands as possible. The jungles of Southern India were an appropriate answer to all scenarios.
But this land was not previously uninhabited; as Indians have been cultivating its’ fields and taking sustenance from the surrounding jungles since time immemorial. When it was decided by the government that this would be the place that the Tibetans would be relocated to, the Indian villagers who previously occupied the area were given a scraps share of their land’s value and they themselves were, ironically, relocated. As can be imagined, this preferential treatment of the Tibetan outsiders was not received well by the local Indian populous, and has been a continuous source of strife between the two communities.
The Indian government initially provided the Tibetan refugees with three thousand acres of dense jungle and farm land for the creation of a large scale settlement. The initial group to arrive in this area numbered five hundred and, with the assistance of the Indian government and international NGOs, they began clearing the jungle and constructing an infrastructure by hand. One of the camp’s original inhabitants, Tsering Pallden, told me that they did this by dividing themselves evenly into two groups: one cleared the forest while the other constructed roads. All of this work was done in the most primitive manner conceivable, and took a great toll on the refugees. Many of them died as a result of this toil; as the dire hardships and harsh jungle climate was more than what many of the unacclimated highlanders could take. But they persevered, and constructed one camp after another to accommodate the continuous stream of new settlers. Now, the Bylakuppe settlement has fourteen camps, four lavish monasteries, multiple schools, and a population of 14,000 Tibetans. "We made a nest in this jungle, and now it is no longer a jungle," proclaimed the director of the camp’s refugee school, Mrs. Choni S. Tsering.
At the Bylakuppe camp, the Indian government initially provided the Tibetan refugees with basic provisions to begin their new life. At the onset, each person in the camp was given one acre of farmland, and each home, which was usually occupied by two families in the early days, was also given a single cow for milking and breeding purposes. These exact provisions were adapted as the settlement grew in size, and the latter arrivals were provided with single family habitations and three acres of farmland per household.
After the jungles were cleared, the problem of cultivating the land became another great challenge to the Tibetan exiles. In Tibet, most of the refugees were pastoral nomads who, for the most part, knew neither grain nor how to sow it. Therefore, as Mrs. Tsering, put it, "We not only had to learn, but we also had to survive." This theme seems to have been taken to heart, as the Tibetans slowly learned cultivation methods from the small handful of them who had previously practiced agriculture in Tibet, as well as from the assistance provided by foreign NGOs. The hardworking Tibetans soon molded their fields into fertile oases, which have become so profitable that laborers from the local Indian community are now regularly employed to cultivate them.
The fact that the Tibetan refugees were provided with such excessive amenities from the Indian government and the international community was greatly resented by the local people of Bylakuppe; who themselves were highly impoverished and could have benefited from outside assistance. Essentially, the hand-outs that were given to the fleeing Tibetans allowed them to achieve a much higher living standard within a single generation than the Indian population has ever had in millennia of agricultural toil. This seeming unfairness on the part of the Indian government was the impetus behind violent conflicts between the local Indians and Tibetans during the initial stages of the settlement. I was told by a Tibetan community leader that this strife has since simmered down and that the refugees and Indians now live in harmony; "We go to their celebrations and they come to ours," he said. But I still harbor doubts as to how harmonious this apparent symbiosis between the well-off foreigners and the impoverished locals could possibly be.
The issues inherent to massive refugee populations are usually always multi-facetted; as on the one-hand, there are the exiles who need a tract of the planet in which to etch out a livelihood, and on the other, is the fact that the world is choked full of humans and nearly every inhabitable stretch of land is already occupied. Where is the balance? When varying populations forcibly overlap, which communities should receive precedence over others? What cultures should find the grace and support of the heavy hand of international appeal? Who decides? These questions are relegated to the realm of politics, and I feel as if they oftentimes cannot be answered with a clear conscience. The subsidies that the Tibetans were given in Southern India were at the direct expense of the local Indian populous; but, really, who can sort out the righteousness of this scenario? All moral factors and personal prejudices aside, the fact still remains that, fifty years after the Tibetan’s arrival, both communities have obtained an acceptable level of sustenance. The local Indians have licked their wounds clean and have found a new source of income from the Tibetans and the tourist they attract, and the Tibetans have found a home in which they are flourishing.
But upon arrival, many Tibetans had a very difficult time adjusting to life in Southern India. In a talk with the Dharamsala trained, traditional Tibetan medicine doctor, Tenzin Tsephel, I was told that the initial refugees underwent a lot of trauma due to the change in environment. These afflictions were physiological as well as psychological in nature, and many refugees died as a result. The rapid movement from the cold mountainous plains of Tibet to the hot and humid jungles of Karnataka, essentially, caused the exiles to undergo such unprecedented environmental stress that many of them simply could not adjust. Even the drinking water was of a drastically different nature; as, in Tibet, the water is collected near its source in the mountains whereas, in Southern India, the water has been continuously regurgitated and needed to be taken from the ground. Every aspect of life in peninsular India presented a challenge to the Tibetan’s bodily well-being; and these environmental conditions were exaggerated even more by the fact that they had to work hard for long hours, fully exposed in the foreign clime. But, again, the refugees persevered and their children and grandchildren are perfectly adapted to the environment of Southern India.
The educational facilities of the Bylakuppe camp stand as a beacon of what can be possible with hard work, cultural dedication, and the necessary steadfastness to obtain international aid. I visited the S.O.S. (Save Our Souls) school, which serves as a boarding house and educational facility for orphaned and refugee Tibetan children, and was very surprised at what I found. The school was well supplied (they even had computer room that most secondary schools in the United States would be envious of), everything was neatly organized, and the children were well groomed, healthy, and seemed to be very happy.
Of the students in attendance, only around 55% still have parents; and they all either reside in Tibet or are scattered throughout various localities in India. The children were sent to this school so that they would have a better opportunity in life and, for many of them, it is very doubtful if they will ever see their parents again. As I was walking around the school with the director, Mrs. Tsering, I happened to be passing by some classrooms when the lunch bell rang. I was soon engrossed in a mob of a couple hundred Tibetan youths in pastel blue uniforms who were very interested in the tattoos which completely covered my arms and hands. I open encouraged their curiosity and knelt down in the middle of the crowd so that they could get a better look. As they were trying their best to rub the tattoos off of my body, I had the opportunity to ask them some questions about their families. And yes, they were all alone in the world. The compassionate faculties of the S.O.S. school community served as their family, role-models, and mentors. This school was the student’s home village, and from the looks on their healthy smiling faces, it seemed to served their needs as well as could be imagined.
The educational instruction at the S.O.S. refugee school was modeled off of the traditional Tibetan system; and songs, art, and activities are the main teaching methods. Tibetan culture is also thoroughly emphasized in the schooling system, and a great portion of the curriculum is based around Tibet. "They have a lot to learn about the mother land," said the school director Mrs. Choni S. Tsering, "and it is our job to teach them." I went into a classroom to observe a class that was in session, and found a large group of refugee kindergarteners sitting in a circle belting out an incredibly beautiful traditional Tibetan song. I asked the school teacher what the words to the song were, and she told me, "The Dalai Lama is flying on a plane, now he is riding in a car. . . etc." I smiled.
The children are taught in Tibetan up until that time that they are twelve years old and then they switch to an English base. The effectiveness of the teaching here was exemplified by the fact that all of the children, regardless of age, that I attempted to speak to in English could hold up a pretty decent conversation; and many of the older students were fluent. I found this foreign language proficiency to be absolutely amazing in lieu of the circumstances surrounding the school.
Mrs. Tsering went on to tell me that when she sees the younger generation slipping away from their Tibetan roots, she takes them aside and attempts to gently steer them back into the fold of their culture. She says that she is often times successful in this; and it shows. Refugees have been in this camp for nearly fifty years and their Tibetan culture is still largely intact. I can suppose that this is largely due to the efforts of people like Choni S. Tsering and the educational practices of schools like S.O.S.
As I walked down the roads of the Bylakuppe settlement and through the little paths of its’ villages, I was given the impression that these Tibetan refugees have formed a little utopia in the dawn of their dislocation; but no matter how idyllic this scene seemed, I was told that they would gladly leave it all to rot for the chance to reclaim their homeland. But this is an interesting issue in and of itself. Everyone that I talked to in Bylakuppe told me that they wanted to return to Tibet. As Mrs. Tsering explained, "Anybody would love to be in their own country; anybody would love to be with their own mother." This sentiment seemed to have an all pervasive presence over the entire camp; and all bearings seemed to be pointed north in preparation for the great return exodus. This has always been the plan, and its reverberations have been carried through three generations. When I was sitting in the home of Mr. Tsering Pallden, who was one of the original members of the settlement, he told me with sad old eyes that all he wanted to do was to return to Tibet before he died; that he, "Has a strong feeling that he should return." But he can not. None of the refugees can. Tibet has been saturated by Chinese emigrants; Tibetans are now a minority in their own country, the once forbidden holy city of Lhasa is now a tourist carnival, and the Chinese still rule with violent supremacy. Just a couple weeks ago a group of Tibetans, who were trying to escape into India, were shot down in broad daylight by Chinese soldiers. The Tibet of old is relegated only to the vast desolate plains of the nether regions and the high inaccessible mountains; and even these are still within the easy grasp of the Chinese.
I also must question the degree of the refugee’s sentiments towards Tibet. They seem to live a life in India that is far more comfortable, luxurious, and prominent than the people of Tibet have ever lived; there is a constant stream of foreign aid coming in, and the initial gift of land by the Indian government provided them with an economic leg-up over the rest of the region. The refugees are very well off in India, but this does not seem to have any effect on their emotional attachment to the ideal of their motherland. "We are always dreaming of our return to Tibet," added Mrs. Tsering. But, for the refugees, Tibet is now only a distant dream.
Cat living on woman's bent back. Hard workers these Tibetans are.
The following photos are from my visit to the Bylakuppe refugee camp in Karnataka Province, Southern India. I conducted interviews with refugees from the local school, community organizations, and villages which comprises the article in the above post.
These photos show a modal of the Potala palace in Tibet that children of the refugee school constructed, a group of nuns debating scripture, apprentice tanka painters, a middle school class in session, and the traditional Tibetan medicine doctor who examined me and told me that I needed to meditate more. He was probably right.
More photographs on:
http://waderucksackphotos.blogspot.com/
These photos were taken from a visit that I took to the Bylakuppe refugee camp in Southern India as a part of my Friends World Program, Long Island University studies http://www.brooklyn.liu.edu/globalcollege/. They show monks carrying out a very agressive, loud, though playful, debate session, school children from the refugee school, a monastery, and village children who really took a liking to my facial hair. I taught them the words for beard and mustache and they yelled them at me laughing for the entire duration of my visit. A nice time.
More photographs on: http://waderucksackphotos.blogspot.com/
