Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Poetry: "Listening Attentively to the Voice Bursting out of Loneliness"

Four Poems in Chinese Written by Tibetans before March 14th 2008

I. The Sudden Self —— Bursting in an Instant

The Sudden Self
—— bursting in an instant
In the mirror
there is a man
looks like me very much
He is incompetent
Until one day
I was suddenly smashed to pieces
He unexpectedly from the mirror
holding the broken skeleton
rushed into life

II. Tibet Does not Exist, Tibet Does Exist

Lakes do not have height
besides it is a vast pure water of the holy land
All the beasts are spying on
the meek sheep
In the lake a mountain was built by piling up stones
on the mountain is the Potala Palace
The Snow Lions obtained horses and hunted
once made the people glance sidelong
The whistles aroused by wudo (’ur rdo)
once terrified many people
Before long
The snow lion concealed wudo and sheep

The dark night is deathly stillness
the cold moon is high above in the sky
The heart compresses one’s blood
the strong wind cause the prayer flags fluttering
One’s blood became hot and cooled down again
One hurts so deeply

(Originally posted by Gyarong Yontan on March 13, 2008)

III. March 10

March 10, We are on our way home
—— dedicated to the youth volunteers
walking from Dharamsala to Tibet

We are peace-loving people
We do not advocate violence
We stress the karmic retribution
We promote tolerance and harmony
We are a kind-hearted people
We are a people with belief
Today we gather together
We only want to go home
We want to go back to Tibet
We deeply
love her!
March 10 we are on our way home
March ice and snow has not melted yet
We already started our journey
On our way home
Ravaging cold wind
can not deter our determination to return home
We are not on a tour or on an expedition
Not to engage in extreme sports
Even less to challenge others
We only want to go home
For many years we can not go home though we have a home
Every time I see the magnificent hometown in my dream
The picturesque village
My grandfather walks on the mountain road
The time-worn back of the limping [grandfather]
When awaking I always have tears covering my entire face
Oh, Tibet, my hometown!
Why can’t we go home though we have home
Why anyone want to cut apart the blood vessels of our people
Why want to have us disintegrate
Tibet, Tibetan!
Tibet, Tibetan!
We will never yield!

(Originally posted on March 10, 2008)

IV. Only after a long time can I miss my
Hometown completely

After a long time
When the snow accumulated in winter
Remained in my memory
Is completely melted
In this depressing city
The warm afternoon
I once again miss
For a long time lost
Brightness, happiness and freshness
After a long time
When the shallow footprints of you and I who are leading a wondering life
Again met in this solid city
In the cold night
I once again miss
for a long time
The cattle, sheep, the earth and my parents
After a long time
When the scent of the hometown
permeating my entire body
slowly disappeared in
this city near the water
the flourishing streets
I once again
For a long time sunk into
agitated, perplexed and exhausted state
After a long time
When the shattered pieces left on the corner of my mouth
Gradually receded in
This Hippocratic city
The strange language
I once again
For a long time scrupulously abide by
The loneliness, the silence and desolateness
Then, my dear
After a long time
When I can, once again
Miss completely
Would you please
Say to me in a soft voice
Where is my hometown
With smoke rising from kitchen chimney.
(written on the morning of March 13, 2008)

The above poems were translated from Chinese and were published together as one posting by Gyarong Yontan on his blog on July 29th 2008.
View the original posting here.
Read Full Post>>>

Friday, July 4, 2008

"The Fear in Lhasa, as Felt in Beijing" by Woeser



“But oh that we might be
As splinters of glass
In cupped hands…”
Aung San Suu Kyi


Part I


It was one day in April. When I met DZ, he was standing on the street with the lights just turned on near Saite Shopping centre, dully watching the never-ending flow of cars and people. Earlier, I had heard from JM that there was a Tibetan like this who had come from Lhasa and seldom went out of the house. He also hadn’t gone to parties held by fellow Tibetans. The reason is that his very typical Tibetan looks caught everyone’s attention in present-day Beijing. This is not an exaggeration. Even when Mr. Phuntsok Wangyal, the earliest Tibetan communist in Tibet, went out for a walk, he would be pointed at by a few young Beijing people who would exclaim, “Look at him, if he is not a Tibetan separatist, then he is a Xinjiang separatist!”

I was very surprised to see that DZ was greatly frightened when he heard his name. JM did not expect to run into DZ, then he invited him to join us to go to a café. However, the reason I had gone to meet JM is because I heard that he would go back to Tibet within the next few days. Originally he had been working on temporary jobs in Beijing for a few years, and the reason he was fired was due to his national identity. JM told me that there were altogether eight Tibetans who had been dismissed, but it was not the boss’s fault. This is all because the pressure put on the boss by the local police stations was too great. JM thought it was not a big deal to go back. March twenty years ago was like March twenty years later, there were also many Tibetans who rose in revolt in Lhasa. JM, in his early teens, burned the gate of a shop and, as a result, was imprisoned for four years. It is probably because of such experience that JM could not care less about what happened to him.

It seems that DZ dared not speak Tibetan unscrupulously like JM did, and I could also see he was hesitant about the unexpected invitation, but why didn’t he decline the invitation? I was observing him quietly. It is perhaps because at this moment this Tibetan man, who wears his hair long like herdsman and whose loneliness could not be hidden though dressing in black clothes, needed to get together with a few fellow Tibetans.

There were no other people in the café who could understand Tibetan, but I still dared not hastily ask DZ about what happened in Lhasa. DZ had the disposition of an aristocrat in old days, therefore, I teased him saying, “you look more Tibetan than us. If you wore Tibetan clothes, you would look like a Tibetan in Chi-itsog Nying-pa” (spyi tshog rning pa, old society). But, while laughing, JM said that he himself who was light in colour and thin, definitely could fake his way into the crowd. Thus, DZ suddenly said, “Now I often dream that there are soldiers holding their guns all over Lhasa; while walking on the streets in Beijing, when I see armed police and policemen, I am, for no reason, angry and afraid too". When DZ looked out of the window and said these words in a moderate tone, I knew that he was willing to tell us some things.

“It happened to be March 14 when I fetched the foreign tourists from Dzam to Gyantse. On my way I received a phone call saying that an incident had happened in Lhasa, and Tibetans from Ramoche area had revolted. Originally it was decided that we would not go back to Lhasa, and would temporarily stay in Gyantse, but later I received another phone call urging us to go back. As soon as we arrived in Lhasa, I quickly escorted the foreign guests to their hotel. This was in the afternoon. On the streets near the east there were shops and cars being smashed or burned. I ran to the area near the Post and Telecommunications Building, where there were many people standing on the streetside watching how Tibetans protested. We can say that, for a few hours, Tibet seemed to be independent. Not long after, I saw quite a few armoured cars drive over there, shooting tear-gas with the noise thum-thum-thum. The crowd dispersed right away. Those who had experience were cleaning their eyes with the water in shops. I only felt that my throat hurt greatly, and I could not hold back my tears…”

“Did you see firing at the crowd? ”I asked.

“I didn’t, but my friend saw that a man was killed in the area near Lhasa Middle School, and he was a Tibetan.” DZ gesticulated his forehead, then continued to say,

“I quickly ran back to my place. I was tired and frightened, so I fell asleep as soon as I lied down. But the next day I had to go to take care of those foreign tourists. As soon as I stepped out of my house, I became stunned. In front of me there were soldiers everywhere, some holding sticks and clubs and others holding guns in their hands. I wanted to go back, but the soldiers called out loud to me “Come over!” I had to force myself to go over there. Two soldiers told me to hold up my two hands just like when one surrendered himself, then they searched my body. I was terribly frightened. I had my amulets in the pocket of my jacket,” DZ took out his amulets and showed us very quickly. I noticed that in addition to Sung-dud (srung mdud, a sacred cord) he also had Ten sung (rten srung, amulate). The latter is a sacred object especially blessed by the Dalai Lama and it symbolizes removing ill-fortune and avoiding calamities. It is very precious for Tibetans. “I also had a badge of Kundun (one of the honourific titles for the Dalai Lama). If the badge had been found by the soldiers, then I would definitely have died. I was quietly praying to Kundun. Indeed Kundun was protecting me. Thought that soldier held my pocket between his fingers several times, he did not find it, then he howled at me, “Beat it!” I denoted a sense of gratitude in DZ’s expression of rejoicing at his good fortune. Of course, this was his gratitude toward the Dalai Lama. He prayed, then his prayers were answered.

“I heard that those soldiers also checked Tibetan’s necks, if they found a badge of Kundun hanging on the “Sung dud”, they would pull it off and threw on the ground. Is that so?” I asked.

“Yes, after throwing it on the ground, they also had Tibetans step on it. If anyone refused to trample it, he would be arrested and taken away. Some young people wore rosaries on their wrists, but when they were found by the soldiers, they were also arrested and taken away.” DZ pointed at the rosary on his left wrist.

“Is that the case that only men, men like you would be searched by raising your hands high as if you were surrendering?” I asked.

DZ looked into my eyes, and said slowly, “no, not just men. As long as you are Tibetan, no matter whether you are a man or a woman, old or young, just like me, you would be searched by raising your hands like you were surrendering. Do you know that I had never experienced such an insult before? I saw we Tibetans raising our hands as if we were surrendering and being searched by soldiers with guns in their hands. Even the old people were not spared, neither were girls. I remembered the movies I had watched. Those movies about Japanese ‘devils’ invading China or about the nationalists fighting against the communists were just like what were happening in front of my eyes.” I also looked into DZ’s eyes, and saw that his eyes were full of humiliation.”

I could not help telling him my maternal Uncle’s story. It was nine years ago when Tibetans revolted like today in Lhasa, but later they were suppressed by soldier, led by a steel helmet clad Hu Jintao. In addition, martial law was also imposed in Lhasa. One day, when my Uncle went to work, he forgot to take his pass with him. Consequently, he was searched by the soldiers and he was also ordered to hold his two hands high as if he were surrendering. This greatly irritated my Uncle and later whenever he talked about this experience, he would be so angry as to be choked with sobs. He had followed the Chinese Communist Party as early as since the beginning of 1950s, and he was an old party member and a scholar employed by the government, but since then he understood that as a Tibetan, he would never be trusted.

It was probably because I was a little bit excited, my tone was comparatively high. DZ was a little nervous and looked around. After a little while he continued his account.“The house I rented was also searched. Fortunately, I had already moved to stay with the guests in the hotel. I had a Thangkha in my house which is a portrait of the Dalai Lama but painted like a traditional Thangka. Later my neighbours told me that the house had been searched twice. One time it was searched by armed police, and the other time it was by cadres from the Neighbourhood Committee. Those armed police probably did not recognize that image on the Thangka as the Dalai Lama who is portrayed like Manjushri, so they did not touch it. Cadres from the Neighbourhood Committee were certainly able to tell and I am sure they must have taken pictures and kept a copy for the record. I have a small chest in which I put Tibetan coins I had collected and currencies of various countries given by tourists when I served as their tour guide. This small chest was taken away. I do not know whether it was taken by the armed police or by cadres from the Neighbourhood Committee. They were just like thieves”

“I thought that I could not stay in Lhasa any more and I had to leave, otherwise I would probably be arrested. I heard there were tour guides who had been arrested, at least five of them. I know a few reporters from CCTV in the hotel and they were willing to help me by taking me with them when they left Lhasa. Because of my looks, it would be very difficult for me to pass through many checkpoints guarded by the soldiers, so these reporters told the soldiers that I was a member of the video and photography team. In this way, we went to the railway station together. At the railway station, I saw that a young man with very short hair was arrested and I think he was probably a monk.”

“The train stopped for a little while at Tuotuo River. Outside the window I saw many military trucks and soldiers. The reporters from CCTV probably thought it was fun, so he began to videotape them, as a result, a few solders were very tough, they not only deleted everything in the video camera but also made a record. If a Tibetan had been videotaping, he would definitely have been arrested and taken away. When we arrived in Xining, hotels did not allow Tibetans to stay. Thanks to the reporters from CCTV, at last two molas (old women) and I had a room where we could sleep.

During the first few days in Beijing, when I walked on the street people asked me where I was from, I truthfully told them that I was from Tibet but immediately those people’s expressions became very unsightly. It was as if I were a terrorist. Once I was even interrogated and examined by the armed police. Therefore, if I do not have any errands or business to attend to, then I will not go out, but I feel very bored. Then I watch TV. On TV there were only programmes showing Tibetans beating, smashing, looting or burning but there were never any programmes about how Lhasa and other Tibetan areas are under the control of soldiers. It never mentioned how many Tibetans were killed or arrested. All those officials are lying, claiming that the troops had never fired on people and saying that the troops went on the street to clean the streets. It is right that they came to clean the streets, and what they wiped out were us Tibetans, because we are garbage in their eyes.”

DZ laughed softly. But I perceived the anger and despair in his laughter. For a short while we were all silent. A few westerners passed by outside the window and we saw that a sense of carefree diffuse from their mien and even every pore of theirs. That is a sense of light heartedness without any fear, and that is a kind of a lighthearted attitude of people who do not have to be afraid any more. It was for this freedom that DZ fled to Beijing and was enduring every fearful day in Beijing, patiently waiting for the permit of a certain embassy.

I remembered it was late at night when we left the café. The lights were brighter and the Chinese were still rushing about like tidal water. Suddenly DZ, who looks more Tibetan than any of us, opened up his fist and said in a very low voice, “I worry that they would recognize me as a Tibetan, so I dare not wear it any more.” And in the palm of his hand was a small turquoise earring.


Part II

One day in April I used the payphone at a Newsstand to call and say hello to my two friends in Amdo and Kham, and it is fortunate that they are both safe. What made me want to laugh and make me feel sad is that though they live in different Tibetan areas, both of them repeatedly urged me to zab zab je (zab zab gsogs byas) (meaning be careful and cautious). It reminded me that when I was in Lhasa during Losar (Tibetan New Year) last year, my friend who only tells me his true feelings said that now we should not use “Tashi Delek” (bkra shis bde legs, auspicious and good fortune) to greet each other because we are neither “tashi” (auspicious) nor delek (fortunate), so what we should use to admonish others is “zab zab je”.

So does WD. When he said goodbye to me, he just said “zab zab je”, then he disappeared into the crowd of people. He is a Tibetan man who would be recognized as Tibetan even if he did not wear Tibetan clothes. I only recently got to know him, and I have met him three times. But I can not describe it in too much detail, as he repeatedly told me, “Do not write who I am. I still want to go back to Lhasa. My I.D. card was recorded by them and they also took my picture. Do not write who I am, otherwise they will find me.” He is a young and handsome Amdo Tibetan, but his two eyebrows were knotted showing that many worries were weighing on his mind, and frequently he would suddenly look around as if he were frightened. In spite of the situation, he readily agreed to my request to interview him. At that time we accidentally met each other, and it was so accidental that it appears to have been destined. Meeting each other at that place and at that moment unexpectedly seems as if he just wanted to tell me about his experience. However, it did not go smoothly when we tried to meet again. Soon we parted with each other and each went our own way because there were people following us. Only when we met the third time very cautiously, perhaps because no one paid any attention to us, I was able to have a complete record.

On one afternoon we chose to sit at a table in a corner facing far away from the windows and the door so that we could see whether there were any unusual things going on. The backs of our seats were comparatively high, so it was not easy for people to notice us. Also there were not many people around us. They were either playing cards or chatting, and they hardly interfered with each other’s business. When WD saw me getting ready to record, then he said:

“I need to start with March 10. About 5:00pm that afternoon, when I just arrived at “Makye Ame” (the Tibetan restaurant located at the intersection of the South Street and East Street in Barkhor), I ran into a friend who told me that an incident happened at Tsulhakhang (Jokhang Temple) square. We ran to see what happened and we saw eight people were arrested and thrown into the police car. Four of them were Ku zhab (sku zhabs, monks), and some said that the other four were Khampas but others said that they were from Amdo. Anyway, they were very young. Still others said that before this some monks were already arrested. It seems that the policemen were from Barkhor Police Station and they beat people viciously. There were many onlookers. Some Tibetans said quietly “nying je, nying je” (rnying rje, pity, pity) a few mola (old women) were crying, covering their mouths. My friend used his cell phone to take pictures, then a policeman in plain clothes came over and snatched the camera away, and confiscated it. We were very frightened.

“On the second day, the policemen in plain clothes increased greatly right away in the Barkhor Street. There were also thirty or forty women with very short hair, and all of them were Han Chinese. When they saw there were people chatting with each other, they would walk over to listen to the conversations. I do not know whether they could understand but they scared people. They had their lunch and dinner on the square, they ate food in boxes delivered to them. There were cars that sent boxed lunches and dinners. The crowd did not disperse until it was about to be dusk. All Tibetans knew that they were policemen in plain clothes, and we were reminding each other quietly. There were also more policemen, who looked very serious, and were walking back and forth in the square. Oh, that’s right, I heard that monks from Drepung and Sera Monasteries had staged a demonstration but they were beaten back by many armed police. The Jokhang and Ramoche Temples were also closed [to the public].

“On the day of 14th I remember very clearly that I left at 11:20am… (I omitted this part). Before that time, I had already heard shouting…”

I interrupted him and said, “ I heard about this on TV. Only Tibetans, and only Tibetans from the countryside and grassland could make that kind of sound. Tibetans in the cities could not make any such sound as their throats have already degenerated.” Furthermore, I also wanted to say it is a pure Tibetan–style whistle, but it was portrayed as “howling of wolves.”

WD nodded his head, and said: “Yes, it is exactly that kind of sound. After 11:20 am, like any other day, when I, together with a few of my friends, passed by Ramoche Temple, an incident had already happened there. Many Tibetans were shouting, and were throwing stones at the soldiers. We were all stupefied. We heard somebody near us saying that for these last few days there had been police cars at the gate of Ramoche Temple, and just now some monks rushed out to overturn the cars as they claimed that the cars were blocking the road to the monastery. Immediately, the policemen called the armed police to come to assist them, then those armed police who had shields and sticks in their hands began to beat the monks. Tibetans on the streets could not bear to continue to watch the zhim jang (zhim chang) thus the people began to demonstrate … I saw many Tibetans were very young, and not well dressed. While throwing stones, they were shouting “come out, tsampa eaters”. A Tibetan peddler wanted to join the others, but his wife exerted all her strength to drag his arms while crying, and pleaded him not to go. There were also many girls, who said to us “young man, are you still a Tibetan? If you are, then come over to join us”, and when they saw we did not join them, they spat on the ground, and said scornfully, “ngo tsa, ngo tsa (ngo tsha, shame on you)”. To tell you the truth, I was very sad, but I dared not to participate, and only stood aside to watch. Among my friends, some of them ran over there and threw a stone, but immediately they came back again.”

“Wait,” I again interrupted him, “do you think this is an organized and pre-meditated event?”

“Kun chok sum (sku mchog gsum, Vow to the Three Jewels of Buddha, Dharma and Sangha), it is not so.” WD sadly waved his head. He continued to say:

“The stones they threw were those used by people in the neighborhood to build their houses. Some of them were holding knives, but they were not Tibetan knives, instead, they were long knives. I do not know where they got them either. Many people were waving khatas, and it is possible they seized them from the nearby shops, anyway, there were many khatas in those shops. Then they poured into Tromsikhang (the market at the corner of Barkhor Street) from Ramoche Temple. On the way, many shops owned by Chinese and Chinese Muslims (Hui) were destroyed. Part of the Tromsikhang market was also burned down. The Chinese all ran away, and the Chinese Muslims took off their white caps and ran away, too. It is strange that no policemen were there, and all of them also ran away.”

I asked, “don’t they know there are video cameras all over the Barkhor area?”

“They know. Many people know that there are video cameras, but they weren’t afraid,” WD paused for a little while and he appeared to be hesitant, finally he said,
“They did it for the sake of our nationality. They are really tough.” This is what WD said, and I had a rather deep impression of his words.

“I had been following the people all the time. There were more and more people pouring from Tromsikhang into the Barkhor area. There were about 100 people. There were people from Amdo, Kham and Lhasa. There were also a few monks. People walked around the Barkhor twice. While walking, they were shouting “Gyawa Rinpoche kutse trilo tenpa sho (Long live the Dalai Lama), “Bo Rangzen” (Tibetan Independence). While they were walking around, they destroyed the shops owed by the Chinese and Chinese Muslims. Silk and satin in one shop were thrown out, which was colourful and they were scattered all over the ground. Some people also set fire to Barkhor police station diagonally across from Jokhang Temple but it did not burn fiercely. I called JM in Beijing and he was very excited when he heard the news. It was because in March 1988, similar things happened. At that time JM was a teenager, he burned the gate of a shop and he was imprisoned for four years. Probably when it was nearly 3:00pm or it just after 3:00pm, people in black clothes came, their faces covered and only showing two eyes. They were holding guns and they fired at people.

“Who are these people?” I asked surprised.

“Special police! Like the “Flying Tigers”
Flying tigers? I did not know who they were, they probably have something to do with some films or TV programmes but I know who the special police are, thus, I did not interrupt him again.

“There were about thirty or forty people who were all dressed in black with their faces covered. They only showed their eyes and were holding their guns high. At that time, I was at the entrance of North Barkhor street, I saw them rushing to Tsulhakhang Square, and they threw teargas bombs into the crowd. People in the front were stopped and arrested. Then they fired and killed people in the back. I, together with many people, was frightened and we retreated back into Barkhor Street. But not very far from the entrance of North Barkor Street, it was right there when a teenaged girl picked up a stone and was about to throw it, the special police fired at her, and the bullet pierced through her throat. She fell on the ground right away. At that time I was over ten or twenty meters away from her and I saw it very clearly. Many people saw that. It was really horrible… I think she was only seventeen or eighteen years old.”

I realized that WD was shivering, and it seems that he still had lingering fear. This made me feel anxious, and the pain I was feeling was just like I was on that scene.

After quite a while WD began to recall again, “That girl fell on the ground, twitching and bleeding. Very soon the car of the special police drove over, their car looked like a Toyota 4500 in a dark color. The car stopped right in front of the girl, then two special policemen jumped off the car, and threw the girl’s corpse into the car. The car again continued to drive forward a little, then turned back. It is very strange that after the car drove back and forth, there was no blood on the ground. There was not even a blood stain on the ground.

I had never heard this before. This was apparently a police car, not a street cleaning car! But WD insisted on this and said, “Yes. It is not a street cleaning car but it is just like a street cleaning car which completely cleans the blood on the ground.” Can that be a new-style police car? Does that even have the function to clean the slaughter scene? Later I searched for the police car for special police on the internet, and I found a police car which can spray water. Except special police cars which can spray water up and down as well as left and right, there are also those equipped with supervision video cameras which can revolve 360 degrees. There were also those equipped with revolving platforms from which to shoot tear-gas canons. But I still do not know whether there are any police cars equipped with cleaning functions to clean blood stains and others. Are they any such kinds of police cars?

WD said, “Except this girl, I did not see any dead people. But a friend who owns a restaurant in Barkhor saw from the roof that the special police fired and killed many people in Barkhor. It is strange that these special policemen seemed to be in charge of Barkhor only, not other areas. At that time, we saw that the corpse of the girl was being taken away by the police car, I, together with other people, started to flee. I ran all the way to Makye Ame restaurant, then turned a corner, and ran across the small alley. Most of the shops on both sides were destroyed, and many messy things were scattered all over on the way. As you know, this area is mostly Chinese Muslim and the mosque is just ahead. I saw some Tibetans burning cars. Three cars and one motorcycle were set on fire in front of the mosque. I dared not stay, so I walked through the crowd and walked through that especially high gate. TAR Public Security Bureau is located just across the street. What is more strange is that there were over ten policemen in front of the gate of the TAR Public Security Bureau, but they only stood there looking on. But only one street away, there were actually Tibetans smashing and burning things. I remember two butcher shops owned by Chinese Muslims and seven cars were destroyed, but the policemen did not do anything. They acted as if this had nothing to do with them. There were also many onlookers, who were standing on the edge of the streets. They were watching and discussing things amongst themselves.”

“They did not do anything? Why?” I asked.

“Who knows? Right, I saw a few policemen taking pictures. Ah, there were also policemen videotaping.” WD was recalling. “Now I remember that it is indeed very strange. There was only one street between these two sides, but they were like two worlds.

Even now I still do not understand why the special policemen in Barkhor fired and killed people, but the policemen outside of Barkhor did not go to stop [the people] at all? It seems that not long after there were three tanks that drove over from Jiangsu Road, and arrived at Lingkhor East Road. All the soldiers in the tanks were holding guns.

“Tanks?” I asked in disbelief, “were they tanks or armoured cars? Those government officials said that no tanks entered Lhasa.”

“Of course, they were tanks, only later were there armoured cars.” WD said absolutely, “Do you mean to say that I can not even tell apart tanks from armored cars? They are tanks with tracks. When the tanks drove over, the ground was vibrating. As soon as people saw tanks coming, all the onlookers dispersed. I ran away too, but I dared not to go back to the nearby house I rented, so I had to go straight to the left side. I have a friend living there.”

“What were the tanks doing?” I again interrupted his recalling. What appeared in my mind were the scenes of the PLA tanks rolling over the civilians and students on Beijing streets on June 4th, 1989.

“I don’t know what the tanks were doing because I simply fled,” WD said. “ I ran away to my friend’s house. He had also just came back home from somewhere. Both of us were still badly startled, so we drank some alcohol to help us to get over the shock. I never drink any white liquor, and if I want to drink, I only drink beer, but my friend only had barley beer from Huzhu (Gonlung) County in Qinghai, a few bottles. Later two more friends came to my friend’s house, thus, we started to drink one bottle after another. We drank beer until past 11:00 at night,and we were all drunk. We were not very drunk, but it seems that we all had courage now and no matter what, we wanted to go back to our own places. When we three arrived at the crossroads of Jiangsu East Road, we were stunned, and almost sobered up. Because forty or fifty soldiers were standing there, with their guns in their hands, and they were also holding rubber clubs, batons or something like them. We were ordered to stop and hand in our papers. Luckily we had our I.D cards in our wallets, then the soldiers said “beat it.” One of my friends shot off his mouth, “We have our papers, on what grounds do you scold us?” Immediately we were done for. The soldiers pounced on us and started to beat us. Two of them held our arms and two others started to randomly beat us right in the face. My eyes were beaten severely and began to swell and at that time I thought I would be beaten so severely that I would become blind. These soldiers kicked us and scolded us, until we fell down… (this part was omitted)… We were taken to the police station. There two policemen came who took our pictures and recorded our I.D. numbers. When we were interrogated, one Tibetan police said in Tibetan “Don’t say too much.” He sounded very vicious, so the Chinese policeman must have thought that he was scolding us. I did not expect at this time there would be a policeman who would help Tibetans. Perhaps because they could not get anything out of three drunkards, eventually they released us. Luckily the house I rented is not very far from the police station. Because I heard gun shots all the way home, so I do not know, I really do not know how many people like that girl were killed.”

“My two friends live in the area over the Tibet Academy of Social Sciences, but they dared not go further so they stayed at my house. But we did not expect that they had to stay there for four days. On the morning of 15th, I wanted to buy some food, drinks and cigarettes, but I began to regret it as soon as I went out of my house. Soldiers were everywhere on the streets. Some were holding guns and pickaxes without the tips. I was about to turn back, but a little boy ten metres away, who was only seven or eight years old, actually threw a stone at the soldiers, immediately, the soldiers started to shoot tear-gas. Suddenly, people were running everywhere. I dared not to go out any more. Luckily the house I rented was used by a work unit to store odds and ends, thus, no soldiers broke into to check the house. But there were soldiers on the roof of the building, and there were also soldiers in the courtyard. In addition, there were many military trucks and cars. For the entire four days, we closed the curtains, sat in the room to watch TV, or to sleep. At the beginning we still chatted with each other, but later we seldom talked any more, and each was thinking about the weight on his mind. During the daytime, sometimes we couldn’t help but open the curtain a little to look out, but no matter when we looked out, all we saw were soldiers. When it was dark, we dared not turn on the lights, nor did we dare to watch TV. While sitting in the dark, we dared not make any noise, and we were very hungry…”

“Then what did you eat?” I can not help asking him.

“Ah, ah, we were lucky that I had bought a box of milk earlier, and I also had bread I had brought back from home when I went back to celebrate New Year. At the time, I did not want to eat these, because there were so many restaurants in Lhasa, so who wanted to eat bread at home? As a result, there was green mildew on the bread. But at that time we had to eat the bread with the milk. After we got rid of the green mildew on the bread, we would swallow it together with the milk. There was a disgusting taste, but we could not afford to care about that. As I said before, fortunately the house I rented belongs to a work unit, later I heard that all three of my friends who rented rooms at the big compounds inhabited by many families were all arrested. Though they never shouted a slogan, did not throw a stone, nor were they even among the onlookers, they were actually arrested and taken away. What made it very funny is the reason for their arrest is that one of them has very long hair and looks like an impressive Khampa, the other has very short hair and looks very much like a monk. As for the reason for the third one, ah, ah, he has a gold tooth inlaid in his mouth.”

“Gold tooth?” I was so astonished that I promptly asked him why.

“Oh, As you know, many Khampas and Amdo people love to inlay gold in their teeth, and there were many Khampas and Amdo people who participated in this uprising. The reason he was arrested because of his golden tooth is probably because he was suspected to be a Khampa or an Amdo person. I heard he was arrested because of this reason. But I do not know what happened to them now. The person who is in charge of houses in the work unit from which I rented my house was very nervous. He is from Lhasa, and he is very timid. Every night he would come to my house quietly to remind me not to turn on any lights, but later he simply drove me out. I told him that I rented the house for three months, and it was not three months yet, then he gave back part of the rent to me, and wrote a testimonial for me. He insisted that no matter what I should move out. On the 19th, I was forced out of the house. Since then I bid goodbye to my two friends, and went out on our own separate ways.

“I stayed at a friend’s house for three days, then I heard that they had begun to sell train tickets, then I directly went to the train station. On my way to the train station, only two kilometers from my friend’s house to the railway station, I was checked by soldiers with guns and clubs seven times. They all spoke Sichuan dialect. They were thin and small, and looked like mice, but they were more frightened than tigers.

They repeatedly checked my I.D card and my certificate of temporary residence. If the person does not look like the photo in the papers, he would be arrested and taken away right on the spot. They also checked very carefully the text messages and pictures in people’s cell phones. Fortunately, I can not take pictures with my cell phone. My luggage was also leafed through and checked. I had one small album in it, and they opened the album and looked at the pictures one by one. The strangest thing is that they actually told me to roll back my sleeves, and stroked my two arms back and forth several times. Why? Were they looking for rosaries? If a person was wearing rosaries on one’s wrist, if one is not a monk, then one is somebody who believes in Buddhism. Later I heard there were people who were arrested because of rosaries. Eventually, I was able to buy a standing room ticket. After I entered the train, before I had time to feel that I was lucky, over a dozen policemen came. So many people came over and surrounded me, they actually only checked me. When I saw they only checked me, not the Chinese who filled the railway carriage, and also witnessed that they leafed thought my bag and messed it up, I was so angry that I began to quiver, and I almost burst out.”

“It is fortunate that you did not burst out.” I gazed at the young Amdo man with bushy eyebrows and big eyes, thinking to myself that after all he endured and survived all this.

“I understand what you mean,” he said, “you feel that I am like a refugee, and there is only the last moment. I should absolutely not resist, is that so?”
“Certainly.” I said.

WD lowered his head, then raised his head and looked around, then he bowed down his head again. After a while, he said in feeble voice, “In fact I regret very much and have been regretting all the time. After I saw with my own eyes that the girl was killed, I began to regret. But no matter how regretful I feel, I will not do anything. Because in my ears, I always hear a voice saying “zab zab je”.

By then I knew WD’s recalling had ended at last. When he rose and left before me, and repeatedly told me to “zab zab je”, I sighed with unspeakable emotions. Apparently he is still afraid, but he did not keep silent because of fear, on the contrary, he was willing to allow me to record and make public his experience full of fear. Why? Once I read an article by Aung San Suu Kyi about fear and freedom, and she used verses to describe people who show courage when they were attempting to free themselves of suppression. When I read it again at this moment, I found that it to also be true for Tibetans:

“Emerald cool we may be
As water in cupped hands
But oh that we might be
As splinters of glass
In cupped hands…”

Translated from Chinese
June 1, 2008, Beijing
View the original here
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