Advertisement
Published: June 20th 2006
Edit Blog Post
Tamdrin Kyid
Here is Tamdrin Kyid -my first Tibetan piano student. Some of you will appreciate that her name means "Happy Hayagriva." I’m settling in at last. My days pass quickly and I find I rarely have a moment to sit down. I spend my mornings translating, my afternoons studying colloquial language, and my evenings practicing meditation. During my breaks, I spend time with Tibetan friends - talking, eating, walking about and visiting the markets.
I made a very sweet friend named Yumchen Tsomo. She is Tibetan, but teaches English at the local high school. It is such a treasure to have a friend who can help with anything from paying the phone bill to explaining cultural cues and expectations - all in English. Tsomo is 26, and speaks quite good English. She teaches 6 days a week, beginning each day at 6:30 AM and often not finishing until after 9:30 PM. She introduced me to another teacher, a woman named Jangchub Drolma. Jangchub Drolma teaches written Tibetan at the school, and now tutors me every day. We have become fast friends, and we do all sorts of things together, providing many opportunities for language teaching. Sometimes we go to the market, or to a restaurant, or to the local “sports saloon” for coffee. I’ve even learned how to say “World Cup”
Another Prayer Flag Expanse
And yes, that is an electrical wire. Looks very safe, doesn't it? Actually, compared to many aspects of construction here, this is practically state-of-the-art. in Tibetan, as it’s a hot topic here! When Tibetans hear that I have come to learn Amdo language, translate dharma texts and do historical research, they are generally quite surprised and often express deep gratitude. One clear example of this is that Jangchub Drolma won’t accept money to teach me. Since I am working to help preserve her culture, she feels it would be wrong to take money. It’s very generous of her, but it leaves me to figure out little ways that I can return her kindness. One is that I am teaching her five-year old daughter to play the electronic keyboard she was given for her birthday. Even in the Third World, I can’t escape the fate of being a music teacher!
All of the Tibetan teachers at the high school are friendly and eager to help me. Today I had my first lesson with Gegen Badon, who is teaching me to read and write in u-med script. When I can relax and am not feeling totally embarrassed, I can admit that I’m making progress in my communication. It’s slow, but it’s coming. Some days it feels very, very hard. Yesterday was one of them -
My Neighbors
Here is the lovely goat family that generally lives in my yard. One day the littlest one could not find the others and he bleated the most pathetic, sorrow-filled cry for an entire afternoon. I swear I understood almost nothing and Jangchub Drolma had this confused look on her face as if to say, “Why can’t you understand anything today?” I fought the lump in my throat all afternoon.
I love the high school. The students are friendly and respectful, sometimes confident enough to try speaking English with me. This week, Jangchub Drolma took me to a poetry reciting audition. In a few weeks, it will be the heart of summer here, which means festivals of all sorts will take place. At one festival, several high school students will be selected to recite poetry, an important art form in Tibet. I listened to about 15 of Jangchub Drolma’s students at the audition and was totally amazed! Many of them spoke with the expression and confidence of Shakespearean actors! I can’t wait to attend the festivals this summer. There will be singing, dancing, horse races, contests, and everyone will don traditional clothing. My friends have already agreed to dress me up for the events.
There is an American English teacher at the high school named Alex, and he’s invited me to come and teach his class a simple song this week. Apparently, he
Jangchub Drolma
On the left is my teacher, Jangchub Drolma, with her sister. can’t sing at all and since Tibetans love music, this has been a real drawback for his students. I plan to teach them “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” It should be fun. I look forward to these small diversions from my studies; they are wonderful ways to interact with the community, practice my own language skills and traverse cultural boundaries. I am generally accepted here with open arms.
Another friend of mine, a woman named Drolma Tso, I met while visiting the Khorkhang, that amazing expanse of prayer flags I described in an earlier entry. Her five-year old daughter, Sonam Wangmo, saw me from a distance and called out “Hello!” Within minutes, the three of us were holding hands, a very common gesture here, and walking together around the prayer flags. Drolma was explaining to Sonam Wangmo why each of the deities in the carved murals held specific implements and why they often had different types of animal heads. Sonam Wangmo listened with deep interest. Drolma is just about my age, with a big, bright round face; she’s quite warm and affectionate. She asked me to eat lunch with her every day when taking a break from my work, but I obviously could not commit. She is a wonderful cook, though, and when I joined her and her family for dinner once, I was fed royally. Quite literally, every 30 seconds or one minute she said, “Wangmo, zo-a!” (Wangmo, please eat!) and then piled more food into my dish.
Last week, I called Drolma Tso and found out that she was ill and had just been to Xining for several days to visit doctors. That afternoon, I paid her a visit. I sat on the edge of her bed and we held hands and chatted in our comically broken Tibetan sort of way. I could tell that she was describing her illness to me, but all I could gather was that her head was very painful.
Soon after, Drolma returned to Xining. It was only after speaking with another friend that I understood that Drolma has many small brain tumors, so many that they cannot be removed. One large one was removed in Bejing last year, but that is all that can be done for now. Hearing this was like being kicked in the gut. I then thought back to her descriptions of illness, and how little I understood of it, and suddenly it all made sense.
These days, Drolma is again in Xining. My western mind wants her to have every medical option available, but I know this is not realistic. This is a painful aspect of living here. I meet many people with illnesses of all sorts, and I immediately wish I could ‘fix’ them all, or import western doctors for second opinions. Mostly, I have to sit with the uncertainty and adjust to how things are handled in this world. There are so many built-in luxuries we have in the West; more control over the circumstances of our health is only one.
One of the scholars I will work with has returned to town and tomorrow morning we will meet. I am quite excited! While I’m happy to have settled in to my colloquial language study, I’m also eager to work on literary language and research. I’ve been in Tibet for six weeks now - enough time to acclimate and get my feet wet, and I am ready to dive into more intensive work. So far on this trip, I have felt completely protected and everything has beautifully fallen into place. After many years of preparation and groundwork, I feel as though the circumstance for deep study is finally here. I make a daily prayer that I will make good use of this incredible good fortune and through my skills, become a benefit to other beings.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.05s; Tpl: 0.011s; cc: 7; qc: 23; dbt: 0.0311s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1mb