Today was full of curious and interesting experiences, from the early-morning flight from Jomsom to Pokhara right till the late-night folk dancing at a lakeside restaurant. In between, there was the impromptu climbing of a scale model of Mount Manasolu at the International Mountaineering Museum, visits to caves and waterfalls in the middle of Pokhara, and a walk round the Tashiling refugee neighbourhood for Tibetans.
It is to the Tibetan people that I want to dedicate my writing today: their dignity, diligence and optimism in the face of difficult circumstances. As I walked round the area all the Tibetan refugees were accorded by the Nepalese government around 40 years ago, and to which they must return every night, I saw young Buddhist monks of the roof of their monastery, children being coached in football on a well-kept sports field, souvenir sellers flashing wide hopeful smiles, Tibetan flags hanging in windows surrounded by prayer flags, and a community workshop project where hand-made rugs are fabricated.
I saw the large looms in the “factory” shed where Tibetan women with muscular forearms were creating fabulous designs while listening to music. One woman was on the sixth wild horse rug held by the long threads of a single loom, and she told me it had taken five weeks to make them. I watched as she laid down another line, skilfully threading the wool in and out in the right colour combination, shearing open the loops of wool to give the rug the right thickness and texture, and pushing it all into place above the previous line. I was fascinated. It was intensely physical and skilled craft(wo)manship.
All the profits from the rug sales help to fund the Tibetan community projects in their refugee neighbourhood, and I was delighted to support them by buying a white dragon rug, which they said signified Strength. It had taken them over two weeks to make and it cost US$57. If I had more room in my luggage, I would have bought a stack more.
The Nepalese government has no specific long-term plan for this refugee neighbourhood, Dorchi said, and the only way for the Tibetans to gain exit is to marry a Nepalese citizen and then apply for citizenship themselves 10 years later. Or marry another foreigner to obtain a different citizenship.
When I visited Cuba a few years ago, the strong urge to leave was clear in some of the inhabitants there, and I felt a certain amount of foreign husband/wife chasing going on. I did not perceive any of that at all in my short time in the Tibetan refugee camp in Pokhara. Just dignity all round.
It has made me rather interested in knowing more about the political situation surrounding Tibet. As we walked the mountains that flank it these last 10 days, Dorchi told me that Tibetans sometimes flee through the high passes and masquerade as Nepalis, hoping no one will give them away to the Chinese authorities. It makes me value my own freedom of movement even more.
When I return home, the white tiger rug will be a strong reminder to be grateful that I can come and go from my home as I please on these pilgrimages of mine.
