The Prime Minister of the Tibetan Exile Government

After lunch, most of us trekked past the Dalai Lama’s compound and off on a very steep and rocky path, to visit the Tibetan prime minister. I hiked on steep and rocky terrain while carrying two bags, a cushion, and wearing an ankle-length Tibetan chupa that I had to hitch up frequently. I wore leggings underneath the chupa; unless it’s a hot summer day, I typically wear leggings under a skirt or dress. Fortunately, Rachel was walking with me and took my cushion and a bag. While Rachel was perfectly kind and nonjudgmental, a vicious voice in my head criticized me for being so frivolous as to shop; if I hadn’t bought shawls, a cushion, and a hat, I wouldn’t have so many things to carry. I thought I was going to refrain from shopping so much on this trip, since shopping seems so excessively consumerist and materialist and, well, not very Buddhist.

While we walked to the prime minister’s appointment at the Exile Government’s library, Rachel and I were passing a cliff that ran along our left side; I looked up at it to see a high wall, and I could see trees sticking up from behind the wall. I saw movement and thought it was a dog, but within seconds I realized it was the beret-clad head of an Indian soldier. That was a bit startling, and I mentioned it to Rachel. She said that’s the compound of the Dalai Lama’s house. I hopped up in a futile and silly hope of a glimpse of the house and said, “Oh, I don’t suppose we can see it.”
“No, I doubt it,” Rachel said.
“Maybe with a pogo stick,” I said with a giggle.
“If you use a pogo stick to get a look at the Dalai Lama’s palace, then you’ll most certainly be arrested.”

Rachel then told me about an incident that happened probably within the last decade—it was when our landlady, the Rani, was still the M. P. (Member of Parliament) for the region. A taxi driver (and all the taxi drivers in Dharamsala are Indian, even if scarcely anyone else is) had a disagreement with a Tibetan, and this resulted in the Tibetan stabbing the driver, and the driver died from the wound. The Rani made a public statement in which she warned the Dalai Lama and asked that he keep Tibetan misfits (as in dangerous misfits) out of Dharamsala. Well, the Dalai Lama disagreed with her and people accused her of being anti-Tibetan. Shortly after that, a couple of Chinese spies were caught working for the Dalai Lama’s staff, and he realized that the Rani was right.

We passed under a Tibetan-looking gateway, walked down a narrow road, and arrived in a square with a Tibetan-style white stupa in a sort of gazebo in the center, and around the outskirts of the little square stood dark, long buildings. One long brown building included a sign over the entrance with the words “Tibetan Government in Exile.” We followed Shantum inside and gathered into a reception room with many chairs, a bookcase, and a big photo of the Dalai Lama on one wall.

The Tibetan Prime Minister, Lakhoor, is an old monk in the customary red and yellow robes. Members of our group presented him with five khattas, sheen white scarves with long silky fringe, and the prime minister went around the room while we stood, and we exchanged a little bow while he grasped each of our hands. We then all sat down, and I was the only one sitting on the floor, although earlier Shantum had, I think, said something about sitting on the floor. Still, as the youngest I felt like sitting on the floor, and I’m generally more comfortable sitting Indian-style than sitting Western-style. Maybe it’s thanks to past-life experiences.

Since nobody else took their shoes off, I didn’t take my footwear off, and I discovered that sitting cross-legged while wearing hiking boots is not an especially comfortable thing to do. I would have been fine with just socks, and eventually I sat with my legs stretched in front of me. Shantum noticed after we had been interviewing the Prime Minister for some time, and he interrupted the discussion to ask me not to sit with my feet facing the Prime Minister, who qualifies as a meditation teacher. The Tibetan Prime Minister, Lakhoor, reassured me that he didn’t mind, but I shifted positions anyway and was careful not to sit in that position again. Until Shantum mentioned it, I hadn’t thought of the Buddha story in which King Bimbisara complained to the Buddha that his soldiers or courtiers slept with their feet facing him and their heads facing the Buddha, thus showing respect to the Buddha and disrespect to their king. Oops. I imagined explaining this to Shantum later. It seems the foot-related belief dating to the Buddha’s time is a continuing tradition in Indian and Tibetan culture.

“Shantum has been a great friend of mine for a long time,” Lakhoor said.
Someone mentioned the rumors that there won’t be another Dalai Lama. “Usually Dalai lamas do not appoint successors; they inherit by reincarnation.” He mentioned that this involves Buddhist rituals. I remembered how the regent had had a vision, while he gazed into a sacred turquoise lake, of the house where the Fourteenth Dalai Lama was born, and that was a great help in finding the new ruler. I’ve also read how the Dalai Lama’s choice of the current Panchen Lama involved the tradition of divination with balls of barley dough containing hidden messages.
The Dalai Lama believes the Tibetan people should decide whether to continue the Dalai Lama institution. They do not generally agree with his solution to eliminate the position. If the Fourteenth should die, how will a committee search for the Fifteenth with the continuing Chinese occupation? Like the Panchen Lama, they could end up with two Dalai Lamas. Or perhaps instead of reincarnation, it will be an appointed position; that is one possibility.

Q: Is your vision that Tibet will become completely free of Chinese governing? Will it be like Hong Kong?
A: Our vision is very clear. Our policy on the future of Tibet has been since 1979; (scribble) for dialogue meant not complete independence. His Holiness has maintained the position of the Middle Path. Maintain genuine autonomy with China—Five Point Peace Program: how to give autonomy to the entirety of the Tibetan people. Not exactly the Hong Kong model, it involves a little more autonomy—but unfortunately the Chinese government is not moving to implement the national autonomy provisions, of the constitution charter; now there is no autonomy.
Motivations to stay under China (but with autonomy) are: 1) Diplomatic missions to other countries, 2) Defense, and 3) Political policy. I might add economy, since I visited Ireland in 2005, and thanks to its membership in the European Union, Ireland is prospering and has no resemblance to a so-called Third World Country anymore. With autonomy but still under China, Tibet could keep the culture, and such things as healthcare would be Tibet’s own. Tibet would make its own law and its own revolutions (maybe the word was resolutions)—almost independence—“so we are seeking that.” Sooner or later China has to agree to this and say, “Yes, we shall implement it faithfully.”

Q: What would be the best policy for the West to help implement what you just described?
A: That Western countries do not adopt a policy of Chinese market. Important but very cheeky question! Democracy: the Tibet issue is very dear to our heart. If the economy is valued over all these things, then I don’t think there’s no hope for issues like Tibet, human rights, environment. “If you respect democracy, you should not support dictators.”

Q: Do you think that future Chinese politicians will be more Tibet-friendly?
A: Younger Chinese politicians are much more liberal than previous generations. Now even China has more exposure to the rest of the world thanks to technology [the Internet]. So we are very hopeful. It is better than ten years before, it will better in ten years. This is a very big issue.

Q: I ask as a Jew, the Israelis left their homeland—how does it affect Tibetans to be refugees?
A: Religion—Buddhism—is changing. Religion is basic fundamental principle, there will be dharma, there is no in between. Tibetans in exile until now, their religion is not diminishing. The latest generation is more exposed to science and modern education, and more understanding of dharma, which is consistent with science, so understanding of dharma is increasing.

Q: If the 14th Dalai Lama decides there won’t be a 15th, does he decide for himself or say there won’t be a search?
A: He can’t say that he won’t reincarnate. He will have to reincarnate, but the problem is how it will be handled—thanks to the Chinese, it is now a political instead of religious question.

Q: Do you encourage Westerners to travel to Tibet?
A: We always encourage the free world to visit Tibet. That makes a lot of difference. [This made me feel good about the fact that I’m about to go there, and I have every intention of writing a detailed journal in Tibet.]

Q: How do you balance your spiritual and political life?
A: The Dalai Lama asked his people to select their own prime minister, and he was hoping they would choose a young and dynamic person, preferably a lady, and they chose an old monk. [We laughed heartily at this.] I don’t have to deal with defense, etc, just the Tibetan people’s livelihood, and try to communicate with the Chinese government. The position is not much political mostly a social work situation which is compatible with spirituality.

Q: We’re aware there’s a march [from Tibet to Dharamsala thanks to the upcoming Tibet Uprising Day] planned, and I wonder if the government approves?
A: That is the responsibility of nongovernmental organizations, and we like their intentions, but we don’t know if the result will be good.
The land and people vary in (scribble) and separate consideration. We are looking back to returning to our homeland. The land is important to all the people born in India; they are not taking Indian citizenship. Because of Western countries, we have to assimilate.

Shantum said Thich Nhat Hanh is coming to visit in December and asked, “Would it be appropriate for him to meet with His Holiness?”
Lakhoor said, “I’m afraid he might be away from India at that time.” The prime minister, however, assured Shantum that he at least will meet with Thich Nhat Hanh. Shantum mentioned that Thich Nhat Hanh’s visit will be important for reviving Buddhism in India.
As she moved forward, Rachel asked, “May I take a close-up picture? I have an old-fashioned camera.”
“My face is also old-fashioned,” the prime minister said.

Tibetan National Library (same building)
Interview with a senior monk
When I was in Mumbai, my organizers tried to make a pilgrimage to meet with Shantum.
I am happy you are informal, I am happy to be informal.

Q: Do you figure you’ve gotten most of the manuscripts out of Tibet?
A: No, most of the manuscripts have been lost.
Many are in the original Sanskrit—all completely put to fire. There are hardly one hundred left, out of those six hundred monasteries. What was inside those temples—much sacredness, not just in terms of the art’s quality. Many things were lost.
We used to be so careful about those publications, carved wooden blocks, and if the printer made any mistake, they were thrown out. It was better than using computers—slower, but better.

Q: Was it a tradition that was only in an oral tradition?
A: Yes—it is a small country, and people were out in nature. Songs and dances, they had time for all that—other attitudes were prayers and memory, and of course there were no computers. An important part of history slowly disappeared. In the library we have an oral storytelling department.

Q: Did all the six thousand monasteries have catalogs of their holdings, so you know what you’ve lost?
A: Often we had no proper catalogs, in many monasteries. Many didn’t know what was there. Some monks were not educated.
84,000 (scribble) of Buddhist teachings, 108 volumes (large volumes) = the words of the Buddha, that we still study. The three main sections of these teachings are: 1) Dealing with the monastery, 2) Ethical practice, and 3) 1- pointed meditation.
“Only a person with a cool mind can cultivate positive qualities.” Having created that foundation of not harming others, we have to cultivate concentration, engaging healthy qualities. One-pointed attention. Healing human beings needs to be supported by knowing how things are.
The whole process of cultivating Buddhist discipline must be done in agreement with the laws of nature: everything is interconnected, be it with us or be it with the environment.

Q: Are there a number of practices of one-pointed attention?
A: You can choose any object, but if you’re a Buddhist there’s an advantage to meditating on a Buddha statue rather than a flower.

Q: Reincarnation and the concept of the mindstream.
A: Mind, according to science, is nothing but function.
But for Buddhists, mind is consciousness. Subtlest mind: mental consciousness, different from gross physical body.
Now can we prove it? That is the big question. Tonight, when you go to sleep, your body is more or less dead. But in your mind…you could be having a dream of…New York. You are in traffic. Something is happening—this suggests there’s a separate energy that goes beyond the body.
We give emptiness to sense sensations, not mental consciousness. When you go from this life to the next, you keep your mental consciousness. Continuity of the mind.

Q: Jataka Tales and self-sacrifice.
A: Unlimited giving. Much of the problems and difficulties are because of this negative self-centeredness. People who grasp to self are more prone to heart attacks. When you see me and mine, you have too narrow a focus. You think in the whole world you’re the only sufferer—because of narrow mindedness, you suffer.
Bodhicitta = altruism.
The more you think about other people, the less you suffer. [This is very true—if I think of myself, I’m depressed, but if I think of others suffering elsewhere, I try to help and forget myself. It feels good to forget about myself.] There was a guy who was crying because he had no shoes, and while he was crying someone came along who had no feet. Gradually you didn’t see much difference between your body, somebody else, and a fruit. You can reach that level if you keep up practice. [But I don’t want to take a bite out of my foot, as if I thought it were an apple.]

Q: The practice of tonglen? [Pema Chodron, by the way, explains this practice. It involves breathing in someone else’s pain or anger or some other negative emotion, so that you’re taking it in; and then you breathe out healing, positive emotions. It’s similar to metta, or loving-kindness meditation, in the Theravada tradition.]
A: Tonglen is about giving and receiving. The initial stage is breathing in and out. Breathing out: offering my love, my compassion. “May all beings have joy and peace.” When you breathe in, “I take all the sufferings of other beings. I take those problems.” You place all these problems on the negative self-centeredness. Positive self.
Shantum said of tonglen that it is “when you see everyone in the world as your mother.” When you [pressure?] the group, you (scribble) and when you always try to do tonglen, it is difficult.
Think of friends as people who need support…enemies… the same way. What is the difference between these people—friends, enemies? No definiteness: husband and wife could become sworn enemies later in life [even if they remain married—just look at my mother]. “I love you as long as you love me” is marriage as a business transaction [which, actually, is why marriage was invented: a business transaction between the bride’s father and husband, both of whom saw her as the product, a thing to barter]. We all share because we all want happiness and do not want suffering. First thing a child does after birth is cry. Everyone has a basic sameness.
Hinayana, Mahayana, Vajrayana—it is not about which is better. [I should have thanked the monk for stating this.] A different tradition is what is being taught by different people.

Hinayana is the foundation; Tibetans practice all three. It depends on which text you’re reading.
Hinayana practitioners can be higher than Mahayana. All three practices can be understood by the same person. Hinayana is a coarser vehicle. Sutra teachings talk about ultimate qualities that give you enlightenment. In Vajrayana, you’re not a Buddha, but you practice visualizations in which you picture yourself as an idealized Buddha. We have a tendency to highlight negative qualities rather than see the good side. You should cultivate loving-kindness to all sentient beings and see them as your mother (in previous and future lives). All sentient beings and insentient beings are the same in that they have separateness. All sentient beings have Buddha nature.

In the Tibetan Exile library, we explored the impressive manuscript room, which was a room containing narrow aisles between very tall wooden, glass-doored bookcases full of traditional Tibetan manuscripts wrapped in cloth. Sonam is the assistant librarian in the manuscript room, and he showed us the a particularly big and old book that he first took out of a special cabinet, and he showed us a few other old books. A traditional Tibetan book consists of two long wooden boards with long, slender sheets of loose leaf hand printed paper in between. It can have beautiful hand painted illustrations inside, such as the medieval book that Sonam showed us, and it always has plenty of Tibetan calligraphy. The book is wrapped in typically bright yellow cotton with a hand written white label and tags of several bright shiny pieces of brocade, like the pointy bits of brocade that dangle from banners in a Tibetan prayer hall.

We stepped outside and entered the nearby Monastery of the Nechung Oracle, who works with all four sects of Tibetan Buddhism. We entered to the right a small shrine room with a large dark bowl of a strange fermented brew, and bottles of whiskey and scotch sat on the same table, below a glass cabinet. Hmm. These are ingredients for the Oracle’s altered state, his weird trance in which he makes predictions in an extinct, ancient version of the Tibetan language, while an interpreter quickly writes them down. When the Oracle is in this state, he is believed to be channeling a deity, although I’m more inclined to suspect him of channeling a ghost, just like a Victorian medium holding séance. It’s a theory, anyway. Tibet has a tradition of numerous oracles in different regions, and they are frequently female; the one who’s famous, however, is the Dalai Lama’s traditional oracle, the Nechung Oracle.

Around the area that includes the Tibetan Exile Government building, the Tibetan archives library and the Oracle monastery, I twice saw benches flanking the wide entrance to temples or other buildings, and on these benches stray dogs were curled up.

After we had completed our tours and interviews for the day, we stepped outside, down steps between snoozing stray dogs, and stood on a paved area to gaze at the scenery. We could see plenty of snow-capped mountains from here, and I regretted not bringing my camera. Below the breathtaking view of the snow-capped mountains, we saw a group of Indian men and women digging rocks out of a lot, a more or less square area of dirt. A few very small children were on the premises and looked out of place and vulnerable. Behind the dirt lot was a veranda on which some Tibetan monks sat at tables drinking tea and observing the laborers, and I got to wondering if Tibetans don’t do hard work like that in Dharamsala but rather reserve it for Indians, just like the job of driving taxis. Gary and I stood watching the laborers, and he said, “These workers are from the Untouchable caste.”

“Oh my,” I said, staring with my mouth hanging slightly open as this information sunk in. Women in saris balanced very large dirty stones or even chunks of concrete on their heads and walked along the dirt and up a slope out of the square of dirt that would perhaps become the basement of a new building.

“I’m pretty sure they are, anyway,” Gary said. “Shantum would know more about that.” He said that they have no education—it’s not allowed—and that all the women are married. “You can tell because they have bangles on both their wrists.”

“And they were probably married at the age of fifteen,” I said. Then we got talking about widows. He said that when an Indian woman becomes a widow, she has to take off all her bangles and never wear them again. He said that Hindu widows have it really rough, and I mentioned the film Water and added, “That still happens.”

He said, “It’s probably not as dramatic now as it was in the film, but yes, it’s a bad experience to be a widow in this country.”

I mentioned that in Nepal they don’t have that problem because young women go through a ceremony in which they marry Vishnu, or maybe it was Krishna, and so symbolically they never become widows. It’s something I came across in a children’s book at work.

Amid the laborers, a toddler began crying, and its mother stopped walking to hold and try to quiet the baby. Gary commented that maybe the kid knows his prospects aren’t good.

Imagining what was going through the kid’s head, I jokingly whined, “Mommy, I want a Ph.D.!”
“Forget a Ph.D.,” Gary said after laughing. “Mommy, I want to drive a bus!”