Tagged: Canada

We need to talk about Tibetan Democracy – Part 1

Yesterday, inside the cavernous hall of the Tibetan Canadian Cultural Centre (TCCC) in Toronto, Sikyong candidate Penpa Tsering began his public talk by stressing on the importance of harmony and unity, as a way of framing his campaign policy. In what eventually turned out to be a rambling three-hour speech that spanned everywhere and nowhere—a performance that at turns resembled a professorial lecture on the mechanics of bureaucracy, nostalgia for bygone times, and a church sermon—Speaker Penpa Tsering reinvigorated some of the charged proclamations that brought much notoriety to his campaign last year and, consequently, captured the attention of the Tibetan diaspora.

He also revealed new opinions (new for me anyway) that left me scratching my head and “stunned tweetless”, a term I used since I was live-tweeting the event in person. Right from the outset, he shared an opinion that may well prove to be a decisive turning point in his quest to be the new leader of the Central Tibetan Administration (CTA).
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This Oct 19, Vote for a Canada that Accepts the Niqab

Every morning, Tsering Dikyi, my mother-in-law, steps out to her back porch and lights up a handful of kindle in a small, beat up iron pan. She covers the incipient flame with juniper leaves, bits of dried fruit, an assortment of Tibetan incense, and tsampa (roasted barley flour). Most days she sets the pan with the smoke wafting outside the porch and finishes her prayers. Sometimes she takes the pan and walks around the house, letting the smoke drift around the corners of the property. In Tibetan, we call this saahng.

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The Curious Case of Tsering Shakya

Consider the position that noted Tibetan scholar Tsering Shakya found himself in one unseasonably draughty, early-April evening in Toronto: you are part of a panel that kicks off a series of discussions under the auspicious heading of “New Beginnings: Young Canadians’ Peace Dialogue on China and Tibet”. Your topic for the evening is “Where Are We Now?: Finding Common Understanding on China and Tibet”.

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Seventy two and counting + Toronto Protest on Nov 14

Everything that’s needed to be said has been said.

The searing clarion call from Tibet. The ripples of anguish across the communities in exile. The amoral handwave by the Chinese ruling class. The deafening silence from its detractors in the mainland and beyond.

Everything that’s needed to be said has been said, and yet we find ourselves unable to confront the malignancy of the situation. For those of us outside Tibet, we do our part in going to protests. We write impassioned essays. We get arrested. We get into online arguments.

We pray.

And yet the simple fact of the matter—the skin of the truth—is that we don’t know. We shout a lot, but at the core, within that gauze of work and life and shit, we are at a loss for words. We wonder how the picture of a charred body pricks us, reminds us of our injustice and insecurity, and of our connection to a piece of land many of us have never stepped foot on.

We think we know what drives a young teenage monk to pour fuel on himself and strike a matchstick. We hope we can relate to a mother of three children when she abandons them for the Cause.

What is it that binds us together?

Where is that mischievous, irrepressible smile?

How deep is our well?

My days are ordered with quiet streets and bulbous figures wrapped from head to toe against the November cold. They are insulated within walls and windows, muffling the clinks of streetcars and the wayward songbird. They are filled with breaks of coffee and tea from the computer screen. They are chores pushed back and messages to be returned.

They are not this.

But every week, they become closer. Bit by bit.

There is a protest happening tomorrow, Wednesday, in downtown Toronto. At Richmond St. and Yonge St. In front of Canada’s Department of Foreign Affairs and International Trade. It has to do with the pending sale of Canada’s natural resources to a group of investors in China who have financed the forced resettlement of Tibetan nomads. Tibetans nomads who have now resorted to burning their bodies in order to express their defiance.

It will happen at 10 am in the morning. I know it can be inconvenient, but please try.

We may not know who we are or what we ought to do. But we know this much: our righteous condemnation against a transaction that facilitates the destruction of the Tibetan people, culture and land must be felt and heard.

Especially if it is inconvenient.

A Clash of Kushas

Samten sat cross-legged on the couch in the foyer, picking at the fried chicken leg and the bits of the conversation between the two men sitting on the chairs across from him. They were balancing their polystyrene plates on one, and gesticulating with their other hands and plastic spoons. The older gentleman had acknowledged Samten by the corner of his eyes and a nod when he settled into his chair. It was a subtle reflex that relegated Samten somewhere above a child and below an adult—an object of annoyance and wariness.

“Oho, when the blacks move in, that’s when you know you have to move out.”

“Yes, indeed. You can tell when a neighbourhood’s going to crash just by driving by and seeing the number of black youth hanging out, just hanging around.”

They barely looked at their plates. They were two friends, the older one from Zürich, Switzerland, and the other from Minnesota, USA. Samten opened his mouth as if to speak, reconsidered and attended to his greasy meal. He didn’t think much of it—the masala was too heavy and applied absent-mindedly. He took a swig from the glass of cola, and thought back to the day’s events.

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