January 3

Through My Eyes

Saturday January 3

(We continue to listen to Dalai Lama as he describes the Losar! )

"I loved peeping down on to the market stalls and remember once seeing a small wooden model of a gun. I sent someone to go out and buy it for me. I paid for it out of some of the offering money put out by pilgrims, which occasionally I used to help myself to, for I was not officially allowed to handle money. In fact, even to this day, I do not have direct dealings with it. All my income and expenditure is handled by my Private Office,

One of the other joys of staying at the Jokhang was the chance to make new friends amongst the sweepers there. As usual, all my spare time was spent in their company and I think that they were as sorry when I left as I was. However, I remember one year when the people with whom I had made such firm friends during the previous festival turned out not to be there any longer. I wondered why, as I was very much looking forward to seeing them all again. I demanded to know what had happened from the single one that remained. He told me that the other ten had been sacked for theft. After I had gone last time, they let themselves into my apartment by climbing down through the ceiling skylight and made off with various items-gold butter lamps and the like. So much for the company I kept!

The last day of the Monlam festival was given over to outdoor activities. Firstly, a large statue of Maitreya, the Buddha to come, would lead a procession round the perimeter of the old city. This route was known as the Lingkhor. I have heard that it no longer exists thanks to Chinese development of the capital, but the Barkhor or inner perimeter which runs around the immediate outside of the Jokhang does still stand. In former times, devout pilgrims would prostrate themselves bodily along the entire length of the Lingkhor as a devotional duty.

Soon after the statue had completed its circuit, there would be a general commotion as people turned their attention to sporting activities. These were great fun and involved both horse races and running races for members of the public. The former were rather unusual in that the animals were riderless. They were released beyond Drepung monastery and guided toward the center of Lhasa by their grooms and spectators. Just before the horses arrived, the would-be athletes competing in the running race would also set off over a shorter distance, also towards the city centre. This tended to result in enjoyable confusion as both arrived simultaneously. However, one year there was an unfortunate incident when some of the human competitors grabbed hold of the tails of passing horses and took a tow. Immediately after the races were over, the Lord Chamberlain accused those whom he thought were involved. Most of them were members of my household. I was very sorry when I heard they were likely to be punished. In the end, I was able, for once, to intervene on their behalf.

Certain aspects of the Monlam festival affected the entire population of Lhasa intimately. For, in accordance with ancient tradition, the civil administration of the city was give up to the abbot of Drepung Monastery. He then appointed, form amongst his monks, a staff and policemen to maintain law and order. This was imposed strictly and any misdemeanors were punished by quite heavy fines. One of the things that was always insisted upon by the abbot was cleanliness. As a result, this was the time of year when every building was freshly whitewashed and the streets thoroughly cleaned.

One thing about the New Year that was important to me as a child was the tradition of baking khabse or losar cookies. Every year , at the time of the festivities, my Master of the Kitchen would make batches of delicious pastry, fashioned into extravagant shapes and deep fried. One year, I decided to try my hand at some baking myself. Everything went well and I was quite impressed by my handiwork, so I told the Master of the Kitchen that I would come back to do some more next day.

This I did, but unfortunately the oil that was put out for my use on the second occasion was fresh and had not been properly boiled. As a result, when I dropped my mix into the pan, it erupted like a volcano. My right arm was covered in boiling oil, which caused immediate blistering. My chief memory of the event, however, is of one of the cooks, an elderly man who took a lot of snuff and was not easily excited, running over with something that looked like whipped cream which he started to apply to my arm. Normally he was a very jovial person, but on this occasion he was extremely flustered. I remember thinking how comical he looked with grains of snuff and bits of snot coming out of his nose, and a very serious expression on his heavily pock-marked face.

Of all the festivals, the one that I most enjoyed was the week long opera festival, which began on the first day of seventh month each year. This involved performances by various troops of dancers, singers and actors from all over Tibet. They gave their performances on a paved area situated on the far side of , but adjacent to, the Yellow Wall. I myself watched the proceedings from a makeshift enclosure erected on top of one of the makeshift buildings that abutted the wall on the inside. Amongst the other spectators were all the members of Government, and their wives-who used the occasion as an excuse to compete with one another in terms of jewelry and dress. However, this rivalry was not confined to the ladies. For this was also the favourite time of the sweepers at the Norbulingka. In the days preceding the festivities, they spent much time and energy borrowing and hiring clothes and ornaments, preferably coral, in which to parade. Their moment came when they carried forward vessels containing the flowers that were to be judged in a horticultural competition which was held during the festival.

I will never forget one of my sweepers, who always appeared wearing a special hat, of which he was immensely proud. It had a long, red silk tassel that he arranged artfully round his neck and over his shoulder.

Members of the public also came to watch the theatricals, although they did not have special seating arrangements unlike the government officials and aristocracy. As well as coming to see the performances, they came to marvel at the high officials in their ceremonial finery. They also used to take the opportunity to circumambulate, prayer wheel in hand, the perimeter of the Yellow Wall. ( A prayer- wheel consists of a cylinder, containing prayers, which is rotated whilst a person recites mantras.)

Many people other than Lhasans came too: tall, swashbuckling Khampas from the east, their long hair extravagantly braided with red tassels; Nepalese and Sikkimese traders from the south; and of course, the small, gaunt figures of the nomad farmers. People dedicated themselves to having fun- something that Tibetans are naturally good at. We are for the most part quite simple people, who like nothing better than a good show and a good party. Even a few members of the monastic community joined in, though illegally and therefore in disguise."

( What a spectacle! I promise to add more tomorrow...)

*( please click here to read of the day with me )

* This is from the book Freedom in Exile The Autobiography of the Dalai Lama by Tenzin Gyatso, the fourteenth

Dalai Lama of Tibet.

Through my eyes

( Please see my spinning for you!)

( Tahshi Deleh gentle one! Kehrahng kusu debo yinpeh? On the thirteenth day of our year I spent a good part of the day bringing in our gift from the Tenger and sawing it into the first small thick boards so that it can dry. It has already dried quite a lot although it was quite wet from being outside by the stream in that pool of water! I had to clear a small path for Mom's wagon as it was somewhat rough on that section as you can see! Then I cleaned off the outer layers and used saws,drawknives, hand plane and even the sculpting gouges to make the boards. The boards are quite rough but they will look wonderful all finished on your loom! We've been spending lots of time in mucky places lately I know. I just wanted to show you different places and also show you how two as one we've been making progress beautiful one! The hill seep I brought us a few days ago beneath the Grove is unusual in a way. The soil is all sand so it drains easily yet water pours out of it much of the year. I'm going to try to bring us a Medlar tree picture soon so you can see how your Medlar tree is doing! I'm going to work on our a land of Tibet and study from our Tibetan language book after I put the pages onto our infosite;I'll put this up for now so we can rest.

And so, as always we'll continue two as one on to tomorrow

my one gentle beautiful patient swift dream bright

long dark mane in sunlight

so for now I bid goodnight...Simjah Nahngo!)


	Through My Eyes Saturday January 3 (We continue to listen to Dalai Lama as he describes the Losar! ) "I loved peeping down on to the market stalls and remember once seeing a small wooden model of a gun. I sent someone to go out and buy it for me. I paid for it out of some of the offering money put out by pilgrims, which occasionally I used to help myself to, for I was not officially allowed to handle money. In fact, even to this day, I do not have direct dealings with it. All my income and expenditure is handled by my Private Office, One of the other joys of staying at the Jokhang was the chance to make new friends amongst the sweepers there. As usual, all my spare time was spent in their company and I think that they were as sorry when I left as I was. However, I remember one year when the people with whom I had made such firm friends during the previous festival turned out not to be there any longer. I wondered why, as I was very much looking forward to seeing them all again. I demanded to know what had happened from the single one that remained. He told me that the other ten had been sacked for theft. After I had gone last time, they let themselves into my apartment by climbing down through the ceiling skylight and made off with various items-gold butter lamps and the like. So much for the company I kept! The last day of the Monlam festival was given over to outdoor activities. Firstly, a large statue of Maitreya, the Buddha to come, would lead a procession round the perimeter of the old city. This route was known as the Lingkhor. I have heard that it no longer exists thanks to Chinese development of the capital, but the Barkhor or inner perimeter which runs around the immediate outside of the Jokhang does still stand. In former times, devout pilgrims would prostrate themselves bodily along the entire length of the Lingkhor as a devotional duty. Soon after the statue had completed its circuit, there would be a general commotion as people turned their attention to sporting activities. These were great fun and involved both horse races and running races for members of the public. The former were rather unusual in that the animals were riderless. They were released beyond Drepung monastery and guided toward the center of Lhasa by their grooms and spectators. Just before the horses arrived, the would-be athletes competing in the running race would also set off over a shorter distance, also towards the city centre. This tended to result in enjoyable confusion as both arrived simultaneously. However, one year there was an unfortunate incident when some of the human competitors grabbed hold of the tails of passing horses and took a tow. Immediately after the races were over, the Lord Chamberlain accused those whom he thought were involved. Most of them were members of my household. I was very sorry when I heard they were likely to be punished. In the end, I was able, for once, to intervene on their behalf. Certain aspects of the Monlam festival affected the entire population of Lhasa intimately. For, in accordance with ancient tradition, the civil administration of the city was give up to the abbot of Drepung Monastery. He then appointed, form amongst his monks, a staff and policemen to maintain law and order. This was imposed strictly and any misdemeanors were punished by quite heavy fines. One of the things that was always insisted upon by the abbot was cleanliness. As a result, this was the time of year when every building was freshly whitewashed and the streets thoroughly cleaned. One thing about the New Year that was important to me as a child was the tradition of baking khabse or losar cookies. Every year , at the time of the festivities, my Master of the Kitchen would make batches of delicious pastry, fashioned into extravagant shapes and deep fried. One year, I decided to try my hand at some baking myself. Everything went well and I was quite impressed by my handiwork, so I told the Master of the Kitchen that I would come back to do some more next day. This I did, but unfortunately the oil that was put out for my use on the second occasion was fresh and had not been properly boiled. As a result, when I dropped my mix into the pan, it erupted like a volcano. My right arm was covered in boiling oil, which caused immediate blistering. My chief memory of the event, however, is of one of the cooks, an elderly man who took a lot of snuff and was not easily excited, running over with something that looked like whipped cream which he started to apply to my arm. Normally he was a very jovial person, but on this occasion he was extremely flustered. I remember thinking how comical he looked with grains of snuff and bits of snot coming out of his nose, and a very serious expression on his heavily pock-marked face. Of all the festivals, the one that I most enjoyed was the week long opera festival, which began on the first day of seventh month each year. This involved performances by various troops of dancers, singers and actors from all over Tibet. They gave their performances on a paved area situated on the far side of , but adjacent to, the Yellow Wall. I myself watched the proceedings from a makeshift enclosure erected on top of one of the makeshift buildings that abutted the wall on the inside. Amongst the other spectators were all the members of Government, and their wives-who used the occasion as an excuse to compete with one another in terms of jewelry and dress. However, this rivalry was not confined to the ladies. For this was also the favourite time of the sweepers at the Norbulingka. In the days preceding the festivities, they spent much time and energy borrowing and hiring clothes and ornaments, preferably coral, in which to parade. Their moment came when they carried forward vessels containing the flowers that were to be judged in a horticultural competition which was held during the festival. I will never forget one of my sweepers, who always appeared wearing a special hat, of which he was immensely proud. It had a long, red silk tassel that he arranged artfully round his neck and over his shoulder. Members of the public also came to watch the theatricals, although they did not have special seating arrangements unlike the government officials and aristocracy. As well as coming to see the performances, they came to marvel at the high officials in their ceremonial finery. They also used to take the opportunity to circumambulate, prayer wheel in hand, the perimeter of the Yellow Wall. ( A prayer- wheel consists of a cylinder, containing prayers, which is rotated whilst a person recites mantras.) Many people other than Lhasans came too: tall, swashbuckling Khampas from the east, their long hair extravagantly braided with red tassels; Nepalese and Sikkimese traders from the south; and of course, the small, gaunt figures of the nomad farmers. People dedicated themselves to having fun- something that Tibetans are naturally good at. We are for the most part quite simple people, who like nothing better than a good show and a good party. Even a few members of the monastic community joined in, though illegally and therefore in disguise." ( What a spectacle! I promise to add more tomorrow...) ( please click here to read of the day with me ) This is from the book Freedom in Exile The Autobiography of the Dalai Lama by Tenzin Gyatso, the fourteenth Dalai Lama of Tibet. Through my eyes ( Please see my spinning for you!) ( Tahshi Deleh gentle one! Kehrahng kusu debo yinpeh? On the thirteenth day of our year I spent a good part of the day bringing in our gift from the Tenger and sawing it into the first small thick boards so that it can dry. It has already dried quite a lot although it was quite wet from being outside by the stream in that pool of water! I had to clear a small path for Mom's wagon as it was somewhat rough on that section as you can see! Then I cleaned off the outer layers and used saws,drawknives, hand plane and even the sculpting gouges to make the boards. The boards are quite rough but they will look wonderful all finished on your loom! We've been spending lots of time in mucky places lately I know. I just wanted to show you different places and also show you how two as one we've been making progress beautiful one! The hill seep I brought us a few days ago beneath the Grove is unusual in a way. The soil is all sand so it drains easily yet water pours out of it much of the year. I'm going to try to bring us a Medlar tree picture soon so you can see how your Medlar tree is doing! I'm going to work on our a land of Tibet and study from our Tibetan language book after I put the pages onto our infosite;I'll put this up for now so we can rest. And so, as always we'll continue two as one on to tomorrow my one gentle beautiful patient swift dream bright long dark mane in sunlight so for now I bid goodnight...Simjah Nahngo!)