July 13th

Nema is waiting as we pick him up on the way to Tsanyang Gyatso’s place where he is staying. He actually lives in Shandar, but has come to Yushu to meet with us and we are grateful. We are led into a lovely home, presented with the ceremonious Tibetan Tea (with milk this time), candies, dried yak meat and those round cakes that I’ve forgotten the name of. He is gracious and kind and speaks to us about Gebchek and the nuns and their great need. He will mail the malas back to Tashi in Xining after of month of them being on the altar at Gebchek. He will also bring them to Gebchek after Tashi’s wife completes them. Everything is easily falling into place now – the last few pieces of the puzzle.

Later this afternoon, Tashi must speak with Dowa Drowlma’s parents with her about coming to Xining with us on Sunday. Her father will be alone for a few days and she much get his permission to leave with us. Hopefully, the beads will finally arrive from India and I will spend time again teaching her the making of the malas.

Around noon, we drive to a hot springs in the beautiful Nangchen Valley where Tibetan culture began. On the way we pass a temple that tells the history of the stone etchings of the ancient Buddha’s carved in the rocks in secret places that one would never find unless pointed out. They are from the time of Wing Chua. We circumambulate the beautiful mani stone and stand under the multitude of pure white katas tied together forming a tent above us. Om Mani Padma Hung is etched everywhere. How do they reach those high mountain faces, far above what seems possible to reach?

We arrive at the hot springs and are welcomed into our private large tent, the type that can be seen throughout the Tibetan countryside. They are grand tents; white with black dorjes painted on each side and are very popular during the horse festival. There are four “day beds” with small tables in front of each and a mahjong board and four chairs against another wall. The daybed cousins are covered in a colored rug -like material and the thick bolsters make it cozy to sit against. We order Tibetan tea and boitzas (aka momos) filled with yak meat. Tibetan tea, by the way, consists of yak butter, dou milk (from the female yak) and salt. We also order 3 beers, which, for a change, is cold. I have never had so much beer, but how refreshing it is on the hot days with spicy food! And there is something just normal about drinking some beer – something that I can count on to be familiar I suppose. And the nice thing is that they serve it in very small shot glasses and one or two glasses is perfect!

The hot springs are so cold! It’s a lovely Tibetan style building with the two sides sectioned off for men and women. The women’s pool is small and square – two good strokes and you are on the other side, so back and forth I swim, trying as hard as I could to stay warm. The guys, on the other hand, sound like they are having the time of their lives in the huge rectangular pool on the other side, as the echoes of Chinese, Tibetan and English yelps and cheers resound through the walls. Dowa Drowlma, Tashi’s sweet wife, finds for herself what appears to be a warm place and settles in as though she is in a completely different pool of water. Back and forth, back and forth, then stopping to catch my breath in this thin air, gasping for a moment, feeling my heart wanting to beat right out of my body. But I am warm.

We dress, walk back to our tent and are served more hot Tibetan tea. We are clean, refreshed and full of life. The four “boys” are still jousting with each other and it is just delightful! I point out to Jeffrey that Jain Su actually appears to be walking differently. Yes, he agrees. I hear excited translations of stores for hours about how much fun they had – who got dunked, how Jeffrey tried to teach them to swim, how Nema and Jain Su didn’t stop splashing each other. Wow, and we are so close to being clean!

When we come back home, I wash my hair in Tashi’s back yard. Hot water comes from the kettle on the solar coil outside and I bend over with my head in the bucket. This is the first time I’ve washed my hair in a week – the feeling is glorious!

I don my breathing mask to walk into town – the pollution is unbreathable! It’s a good night to all sit in the backyard and celebrate. We bring out the cake and the children gobble it up. For 65 Yuen, or about $10.00, we have a beautiful big round cake with about 8 happy sunflower faces rising from the snowy white base. The cake says: thank you” and this thank you is from a place so deep in my heart to these four men that have helped make this journey happen. I am so deeply grateful that I can’t speak, but I know that they know. We did this together, each one doing their part, keeping their courage, pushing past fear and doubt – and holding on for dear life. We have a bond and a remembered experience that will stay with each of us forever.

So, we all sing happy birthday to the children, even though it isn’t anyone’s birthday. The Tibetan children here don’t celebrate their birthdays; in fact, many people have no idea when they were born. Tashi was born in a tent in the winter, he believes. Tashi says also that birthday celebrations are a Chinese tradition and not a Tibetan tradition. There is a very fancy birthday candle that we have to read the directions to just to make it work. So amazing, this candle. You light a little thing in the middle of about 10 candles and it starts playing Happy Birthday and the flower of candles begins to open so very gracefully. And it was free! As were the 8 or so small paper plates and the tiny two pronged forks. Good thing, because those are not things that are available here at the house. The rest of us eat the cake from our hands as everyone joins in.

After cake, the guys start talking about poker. Dowa Drowlma is with her father so Tashi goes out and buys a couple of 6-packs of beer and the four guys move upstairs for poker night. I use the term ‘poker’ loosely because Jeffrey says it is really just a way to use cards as a guise to drink a lot of beer and have fun.

The howls of laughter stream down from the top floor. Sometimes, I am just in awe of their keen capability and tenacity. Now, I am in awe of their boyishness and loving tenderness for each other. This must be what it feels like to have teenage sons – its very sweet.

I am alone in the small dusty bricked floored room that Jain Su, Jeffrey and I share at Tashi’s home. There are 3 narrow single beds, each with a colorful deed red Tibetan/rose motif throw. There is a small wood-burning stove with a silver kettle sitting on top and a narrow dresser with an old TV upon which are three small stuffed animals. Between my bed and Jeffrey’s is a five-foot beautifully colored Tibetan wooden chest about four feet tall upon which are stacks of magazines and miscellaneous odds and ends. Above that is a 4 x 2 foot black and white poster of Mao Tse Tong, a common embellishment of a Tibetan home. The low ceiling is wooden with small round beams going from end to end and one large round beam going across. This is a home filled with so much love and laughter and affection. It is so good to be here.