Let's Walk

Just as I hit the mugger over the head, I realize its........ LOL! No, but seriously. I'm sure many of you had guessed right : it was Kunga. Just as I had decided to start appreciating the moment and take whats on my path, look who shows up on my path, literally.

He's very quiet and almost distant. Sad looking and not in his plate. Of course I ask him how he's doing. His father's only sister died last night, he tells me. They used to all live together in the same house when he was a child. They were very close. Also, he spent the afternon at one of his friend's, who's father died in a car crash yesterday and he just found out.

"Toooo much crying" he tells me,

"same like become crazy, toooo much. I stay with him. Very difficult"

Of course by very difficult he means the obvious tremendous grief from loss. But theres something else very difficult in their situation. Let me give you a very brief detailless summary of how Kunga got here (and he's just an example amongst thousands in his situation). He ran away from his home in the middle of the night when he was only 15. He and a couple of friends had been talking about escaping and decided to finally do it. Of course it was a huge secret and his parents didn't know. He reached Lhasa about a month later and contacted his parents who were convinced he was dead. Imagine his mother's reaction when she found out her youngest child was still alive. The confusion, the joy of his being alive, but the grief of her maybe never seeing him again. They never said goodbye. He speaks of his mom with such tender love. But he was on his way out and after over a month maybe 2 of walking through the mountains (walking at night and resting at day, not to be spotted, the Chinese army and police are torturous when they find Tibetans trying to flee), he finally reached India. He was safe. But alone. So they are refugees here, in exile, and these loved ones died in Tibet. They can't go and comfort and go get comforted by their families, they must go through this alone, or with only a friend's shoulder who is also here, so far away when you need to be so close, so seperated when you need to be together. I can't imagine. I would also become crazy. Very difficult.

So I put my arm on his shoulder and we walk together. We're mostly quiet. He suddenly asks if I've had dinner yet and I'm very glad to announce I havent, we can eat together. For those who know how much of an "epicurienne" I am, enjoying a good meal is an activity I love sharing with great friends. So we go to my place first, I have a gift for him I tell him, besides, its on the way to the little restaurant we're going to. We stop at my room only a few minutes. I give him his gift. He's been wanting to improve his english, so I got him a really nice learners dictionary along with a good exercise book and some illustrated Q&A books about animals and the world in general. He seems really happy about them, especially the World Q&A book.

"This is veeery interesting" he says.

The lights go out like they often do several times in the day, so we head out.

We walk slowly down the curvy road and through the very narrow backalleys to our restaurant. YES!! There's no electricity here either so the place is lit with candles. I love it. Sometimes, I walk by there during cham-cham. If I've already had dinner but the place is candlelit, I'll go in for tea or juice, just because its candlelit. Most other places have generators and they're quite popular, but I prefer the quiet gentle warm feel of the traditional light from fire. I love it. We walk by some friends who are just hanging out outside as we go in and chat with them for a minute. Tashi, who lives right above the restaurant is my favorite of all of Kunga's friends. Actually I think I can now call him my friend and not only Kunga's friend. I love visiting him and have a good old laughing time when he's around. He's very funny and friendly. You can tell he loves his friends very much and wants all the best for them. It sincerely brings him joy when his friends are happy. We sometimes go and sit on his balcony at night where I'll sometimes smoke one of my now rare cigarettes. We talk and laugh, and I try to listen and study what they say when they speak Tibetan together. He asks me a million words in english and thinks each and every one of them is "cute" as he says. Table = cute, bowl = cute, mosquito = cute, promote = cute, etc. Everything is perfect. Its simple, but it feels so nice.

Tashi decided he's leaving tomorrow, he's going to Delhi, then Dharamsala. He just decided, like that! Things'll be a little different, for a while. But we'll see him up there next month. He heard us talking about going up there, and I think it made him want to move. Theres a world to see out there, and its ok to go and see it if you suddenly feel an urge, or inspiration. Why not. When I get antsy, I'll be moving too.