November 6

Through My Eyes

Saturday November 6

(We continue to listen to the Dalai Lama as he continues to tell of his escape.)

"More than once I almost lost my balance. We then made our way to the banks of the Kyichu itself. Just before reaching it, we came across a large group of people. The Lord Chamberlain spoke briefly with their leaders and then we passed on to the river-bank. Several coracles were waiting for us, together with a small party of ferrymen.

The crossing went smoothly, although I was certain that every splash of oars would draw down machine-gun fire on to us. There were many tens of thousands of PLA stationed in and around Lhasa at that time and it was inconceivable that they would not have patrols out. On the other side, we met up with a party of freedom fighters who were waiting with some ponies. Here we were also joined by my mother, my brother and sister and my tutors. We then paused to wait for my senior officials, who were following, to join us. Whilst we did so, we took the opportunity to exchange, in highly charged whispers, remarks about the iniquitous behaviour of the Chinese which had driven us to this pass. I also put my glasses back on- I could bear sightlessness no longer-but then almost wished I hadn't as I could now make out the torchlight of PLA sentries guarding the garrison that lay only a few hundred yards from where we stood. Fortunately, the moon was obscured by low cloud and visibility was poor.

As soon as the others arrived, we set off towards the hill and the mountain pass, called Che-La, that separates the Lhasa valley from the Tsangpo valley. At around three o'clock in the morning, we stopped at a simple farm house, the first of many to provide us with shelter over the next few weeks. But we did not remain long and after only a little while left to continue the trek up to the pass, which we reached at around eight o'clock. Not long before we reached it, the first light of day dawned and we saw to our amusement the result of our haste. There had been a mix-up with ponies, their harnesses and their riders. Because the monastery that had provided the animals had had almost no warning, and because of the dark, the best of them had been fitted with the worst saddles and given to the wrong people, whereas some of the oldest and shaggiest mules were the finest harnesses and were being ridden on by the most senior officials.

At the top of the 16,000-foot pass, the groom who was leading my pony stopped and turned it round, telling me that this was the last opportunity on the journey for a look at Lhasa. The ancient city looked serene as ever as it lay spread out far below. I prayed for a few minutes before dismounting and running on foot down the sandy slopes that gave the place its name-Che-La means Sandy Pass. We then rested again for a short while before pushing on towards the banks of the Tsangpo, which we reached finally not long before noon. There was only one place to cross it, by ferry, and we had to hope that the PLA had not reached it first. They had not.

On the far side, we stopped in a small village whose inhabitants turned out to greet me, many weeping. We were now on the fringes of some of Tibet's most difficult country: an area with only a few remote settlements. It was a region that the freedom fighters had made their own. From here on, I knew we were invisibly surrounded by hundreds of guerrilla warriors who had been warned of our impending arrival and whose job it was to protect us as we travelled.

It would have been difficult for the Chinese to follow us, but if they had information on our whereabouts it was possible that they might calculate our intended route and mobilise forces ahead to try to intercept us. So for our immediate protection an escort of about three hundred and fifty Tibetan soldiers had been assembled, along with a further fifty or so irregulars. The escape party itself had by now grown to approaching one hundred people.

Almost everyone but myself was heavily armed, including even the man appointed as my personal cook, who carried an enormous bazooka and wore a belt hung with its deadly shells. He was one of the young men trained by the CIA. So eager was he to use his magnificent and terrible looking weapon that, at one point, he lay down and fired off several shots at what he claimed looked like an enemy position. But it took such a long time to reload that I felt sure he would have been made short work of by a real enemy. Altogether, it was not an impressive performance.

There was another of these CIA operatives amongst the party, a radio operator who was apparently in touch with his headquarters throughout the journey. Exactly whom he was in contact with, I do not know to this day. I only know that he was equipped with a Morse-key transmitter.

That night we stopped at a monastery called Ra-me, where I wrote a hurried letter to the Panchen Lama telling him of my escape and advising him to join me in India if he could. I had not heard from him since the middle of winter, when he had written to offer his good wishes for the year ahead. In a separate, secret note he had also said he thought that, with the situation deteriorating throughout the country, we needed to formulate a strategy for the future."

(I think the protector deities had a lot to do with the ease of the escape from Lhasa as well as the amusing incident with the ponies; we remember the contempt exhibited by oracle for the government that the Dalai Lama described at the time of his assuming the powers of his office! 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? I began the day in our studio spinning for you then headed outside to wander about for awhile and take pictures. Then I returned to our studio to order some things for the Grove among them a 50 pound box of milk paint for painting the tree trunks! It's much less expensive in that quantity and because it's a powder it will keep awhile.After that I began cutting down some of the dead trees near the studio to use as a trellis for the raspberries next year. Then I put some anti-slip coverings on the stairs we two as one built for the studio last year. Mom thought they were needed so two as one we've put them on. Kathy helped us with this. It wasn't difficult and they look just fine! I hope you liked the picture of me from our sacred place. It was tough to get up there in time to take the picture! You understand of course. With us working two as one pulling strongly and patiently together things went quite well! Then I returned to our studio to work on our a land of Tibet. Two as one we've fixed more mistakes on the pages including the page I didn't put in our infosite! Be not concerned for we continue on despite my stumblings as you know well beautiful one! I'm going to put the pages on our infosite;I'll put this 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 November 6 (We continue to listen to the Dalai Lama as he continues to tell of his escape.) "More than once I almost lost my balance. We then made our way to the banks of the Kyichu itself. Just before reaching it, we came across a large group of people. The Lord Chamberlain spoke briefly with their leaders and then we passed on to the river-bank. Several coracles were waiting for us, together with a small party of ferrymen. The crossing went smoothly, although I was certain that every splash of oars would draw down machine-gun fire on to us. There were many tens of thousands of PLA stationed in and around Lhasa at that time and it was inconceivable that they would not have patrols out. On the other side, we met up with a party of freedom fighters who were waiting with some ponies. Here we were also joined by my mother, my brother and sister and my tutors. We then paused to wait for my senior officials, who were following, to join us. Whilst we did so, we took the opportunity to exchange, in highly charged whispers, remarks about the iniquitous behaviour of the Chinese which had driven us to this pass. I also put my glasses back on- I could bear sightlessness no longer-but then almost wished I hadn't as I could now make out the torchlight of PLA sentries guarding the garrison that lay only a few hundred yards from where we stood. Fortunately, the moon was obscured by low cloud and visibility was poor. As soon as the others arrived, we set off towards the hill and the mountain pass, called Che-La, that separates the Lhasa valley from the Tsangpo valley. At around three o'clock in the morning, we stopped at a simple farm house, the first of many to provide us with shelter over the next few weeks. But we did not remain long and after only a little while left to continue the trek up to the pass, which we reached at around eight o'clock. Not long before we reached it, the first light of day dawned and we saw to our amusement the result of our haste. There had been a mix-up with ponies, their harnesses and their riders. Because the monastery that had provided the animals had had almost no warning, and because of the dark, the best of them had been fitted with the worst saddles and given to the wrong people, whereas some of the oldest and shaggiest mules were the finest harnesses and were being ridden on by the most senior officials. At the top of the 16,000-foot pass, the groom who was leading my pony stopped and turned it round, telling me that this was the last opportunity on the journey for a look at Lhasa. The ancient city looked serene as ever as it lay spread out far below. I prayed for a few minutes before dismounting and running on foot down the sandy slopes that gave the place its name-Che-La means Sandy Pass. We then rested again for a short while before pushing on towards the banks of the Tsangpo, which we reached finally not long before noon. There was only one place to cross it, by ferry, and we had to hope that the PLA had not reached it first. They had not. On the far side, we stopped in a small village whose inhabitants turned out to greet me, many weeping. We were now on the fringes of some of Tibet's most difficult country: an area with only a few remote settlements. It was a region that the freedom fighters had made their own. From here on, I knew we were invisibly surrounded by hundreds of guerrilla warriors who had been warned of our impending arrival and whose job it was to protect us as we travelled. It would have been difficult for the Chinese to follow us, but if they had information on our whereabouts it was possible that they might calculate our intended route and mobilise forces ahead to try to intercept us. So for our immediate protection an escort of about three hundred and fifty Tibetan soldiers had been assembled, along with a further fifty or so irregulars. The escape party itself had by now grown to approaching one hundred people. Almost everyone but myself was heavily armed, including even the man appointed as my personal cook, who carried an enormous bazooka and wore a belt hung with its deadly shells. He was one of the young men trained by the CIA. So eager was he to use his magnificent and terrible looking weapon that, at one point, he lay down and fired off several shots at what he claimed looked like an enemy position. But it took such a long time to reload that I felt sure he would have been made short work of by a real enemy. Altogether, it was not an impressive performance. There was another of these CIA operatives amongst the party, a radio operator who was apparently in touch with his headquarters throughout the journey. Exactly whom he was in contact with, I do not know to this day. I only know that he was equipped with a Morse-key transmitter. That night we stopped at a monastery called Ra-me, where I wrote a hurried letter to the Panchen Lama telling him of my escape and advising him to join me in India if he could. I had not heard from him since the middle of winter, when he had written to offer his good wishes for the year ahead. In a separate, secret note he had also said he thought that, with the situation deteriorating throughout the country, we needed to formulate a strategy for the future." (I think the protector deities had a lot to do with the ease of the escape from Lhasa as well as the amusing incident with the ponies; we remember the contempt exhibited by oracle for the government that the Dalai Lama described at the time of his assuming the powers of his office! 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? I began the day in our studio spinning for you then headed outside to wander about for awhile and take pictures. Then I returned to our studio to order some things for the Grove among them a 50 pound box of milk paint for painting the tree trunks! It's much less expensive in that quantity and because it's a powder it will keep awhile.After that I began cutting down some of the dead trees near the studio to use as a trellis for the raspberries next year. Then I put some anti-slip coverings on the stairs we two as one built for the studio last year. Mom thought they were needed so two as one we've put them on. Kathy helped us with this. It wasn't difficult and they look just fine! I hope you liked the picture of me from our sacred place. It was tough to get up there in time to take the picture! You understand of course. With us working two as one pulling strongly and patiently together things went quite well! Then I returned to our studio to work on our a land of Tibet. Two as one we've fixed more mistakes on the pages including the page I didn't put in our infosite! Be not concerned for we continue on despite my stumblings as you know well beautiful one! I'm going to put the pages on our infosite;I'll put this 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!)