cosmopolitan review

by Joanna Korduś

I believe it’s impossible to arrive in a new place, immerse yourself in its culture, and remain unchanged. It was during the three months that I spent in India that I learned that nothing and no one exists alone; and that the best part of traveling is taking the lessons we’ve learned and applying them to who we are and where we live. (Photo left: A celebration of baby girl’s first birthday, Haridwar.)

Along with fifteen other fellow Simon Fraser University students, I lived and worked as an educator within the Tibetan refugee community in a northern Indian village called Chauntra. Chauntra lies two hours outside of Dharamsala, the exiled home of His Holiness the Dalai Lama. India had offered asylum to the Tibetan refugees who, since the Chinese occupation of Tibet in 1959 and the subsequent eradication of Tibetan language, religion and tradition in their native home, have been fleeing, on foot, across the snowy Himalayan Mountains to India. Here, in India the Tibetan diaspora has a space to practice their Buddhist religion, speak the Tibetan language, and continue their traditional culture.

Ever since the Chinese occupation of Tibet began, Tibetans have been fleeing their country, at great risk, inorder to be free to keep their cultural identity and to educate their children in their own traditions. Sometimes Tibetan parents can arrange secret passage over the icy, mountainous routes only for their children. (Photo right: Inside a Tibetan Buddhist temple, Himachal Pradesh)

These people endure incredible journeys and personal hardships in order to fight for who they are: for their nation, whose sovereignty they campaign for in India and around the world; for their identity which they preserve through Tibetan education, Buddhist practices and disciplined traditional instruction. I have listened as Tibetans, young and old, told us stories about their trials: some have lost families; one woman, Amala Adha, was tortured and imprisoned in China for 28 years for protesting against the communist regime. The also spoke of their faith in a better tomorrow for their culture, their people and humanity in general. The Tibetans I’ve met were genuinely open, kind and warm-hearted.

Most of the Tibetan children I’ve worked with live about an 11-day journey away from their parents who work as farmers in Tuting, in eastern India. Some only see their families once a year or even once every few years because their parents are unable to cover the travel costs. The Central School for Tibetans that I worked in has 371 students, 307 of whom live in boarding school. For these students, school is home, and teachers act not only as educators but as care givers. Many adolescent students’ dreams are to visit their homeland one day and, once they finish school, even to fight for Tibet’s freedom. Their zeal, respect, discipline and dedication to learning were inspiring.

Chauntra had, in a sense, become a home to me. As a Polish-Canadian who immigrated to Canada from Poland – at the decision of my parents to seek a better life – I felt closely attuned to the Tibetan fight for their cultural identities outside their native lands. I too feel it important to preserve my Polish identity in Canada, and I know that I must rely on fellow Polish people in order to maintain and honour our shared heritage. I was astonished at the strong community in the Tibetan settlement because I feel that we perhaps here do not have such strong ties among ourselves in Canada. Through the Tibetans, I saw what’s possible. (Photo left: The monkey temple in Jaipur, state of Rajasthan)

I felt welcome, and a part of Chauntra, as soon as we arrived. No one is left behind in this community; disadvantaged individuals are offered food by store keepers as a sign of mutual care and respect. Sometimes, when I go to a little shop, I soon find myself sitting on a stool with the shopkeeper drinking chai and talking about life for the next hour. There is an unspoken agreement that everyone is responsible for the well being of others and thereby ensures one’s own well being in turn, but even more important than that is the connection between human and human – really seeing others and really hearing them. That is why the connection I had developed with the students, teachers and people we met is hard to describe: but to illustrate, on the day we were leaving the settlement, the students cried and we cried with them, over the course of the entire day. It was as hard to leave this community and way of life as it is hard to leave Poland each time I visit it and my family. These places – India, Poland – seep into me and their people have become my extended family. One of my students from India still addresses me in her letters as: “Dear sis,” and our classes left us with letters that wished us a “Happy life and happy journey – never say goodbye because you are always in our hearts.”

I see many similarities between the Tibetan diaspora in India and the Polish diaspora in Canada. We fight for the nurturance of our cultural heritage and identity in our own unique ways. Thanks to India, I have gained a deeper appreciation of not just the Indian and Tibetan cultures and people, but of my own; and the important place that my culture, native language and heritage hold in my heart became that much more affirmed. I have learned from the Tibetans not only about the human community and our collective responsibility to care for each other, no matter where we live, but also about the dedication it takes to maintain who we are culturally outside of our native homeland, and the necessity of cherishing who we are and supporting each other as a group. (Photo above: Joanna with several Tibetan students at the Central School for Tibetans, Chauntra)

One day in Dharamsala during his teachings on compassion, the Dalai Lama told us that “We attain happiness through cherishing and caring for others.” Thanks to my experiences in India, I’m a strong believer in those words.