Zoige Bus Station

Between Songpan and Langmusi, I was required to stop in the town of Zoige for a couple of hours. Since I had my bags with me and the town seemed dusty and uninteresting, I spent the whole time at the bus station, planning to read Les Miserables. Within a few minutes of reading, a maroon robed Tibetan monk sat next to me, turned off his iPod and said "Hello."

I replied, "Tashi dele," the only word of Tibetan I knew. He of course corrected my pronounciation. He put his face right next to mine so our eyes were about an inch apart and stared. I doubt he'd seen eyes my color before. He then pointed to his eyes, said something in Tibetan, which I assumed was the Tibetan word for eyes. I repeated the word, then pointed to my own eyes and said, "Eyes."

We played this game for a while, but soon it just broke down into me teaching him English with no reciprocation in Tibetan.

He tired of the game after a while and brought his eyes close to mine again. Next, he started repeating various phrases in Tibetan and prompted me to repeat. He didn't try to illustrate what he was having me say at any point.

Soon, another monk sat next to him and joined the game of making the American say random things in Tibetan. Suddenly, the first monk's tone changed, his expression hardened and he said, "Dalai Lama." He brought his hands together in prayer and bowed slightly. Suddenly, I worried about what he was having me repeat. Not more than five minutes earlier, there were Chinese military hanging around. I've heard horror stories of foreigners getting in trouble for discussing the Dalai Lama with Tibetans or being thrown in jail or deported.

I silently said "Dalai Lama" and both monks bowed with their hands clasped again. They then had me repeat more sentences, this time followed by "Dalai Lama". I reluctantly said what they wanted and the first monk slapped my back in admiration. The second monk then pulled out a portrait of the Dalai Lama that was hanging on a necklace. I quickly covered it with my hands and looked around for any Chinese officials. I saw none, then cautiously looked at his necklace. Portraits of the Dalai Lama are forbidden in China. I then reached into my bag, pulled out my guide of India and pointed out the town where the Tibetan government resided. "Dalai Lama," I said pointing to the map. They seemed happy to see it.

They had me say some more Tibetan, then they pulled out a 50 yuan bill, which feature a photo of the Potala palace, previous home of the Dalai Lama. I pulled a fifty from my pocket as well and pointed to the palace, "Potala." I said.

They waved their hands, showing I misunderstood them. Eventually, I deduced that they were asking me for US dollars, or which I had none. I said "bu dollar," then pointed to myself, "Quai, Renmin, Yuan." They understood. Then I remembered I had a quarter in my bag which I saved because it had Guam on it, my favorite place name to say. Reaching into my bag, I then presented the quarter to the first monk who seemed quite happy by the gift. Though I think I he thought I was giving alms, not giving him a gift. I also showed them my passport, which they found cool. Within no time, their bus was ready to depart. They both asked me for money again before leaving, which I politely declined. Then the first monk admired my shoes, offering me a swap with his own. I mimicked that I walk a lot and need strong shoes, which he understood then left.

It was an amazing cross-cultural experience. The Tibetan seemed genuninely kind. I just wish they hadn't asked me for money. Even though I am a bit more monetarily wealthy than them, I am still a bit poor. Plus, they didn't seem to want Chinese currency.