Chapter 13- Dehradun: Making the Papers
The friends took the bus back up the hill to Mcleaod Ganj and parted ways. It had been a long and fulfilling day. Jennifer and Tsering went back to their room where they relaxed on the stoop and gazed out at the distant snow-peaked mountains that marked India’s natural border with Tibet. As Tsering stared out at the mountains, Jennifer sensed he was homesick and was reminded that she, too, was far from home. She had forgotten to call her parents as she had planned back in Dehli. Everything was happening so fast, this was the first moment that she felt still since they had left Sarnath together. The emotional rush of their decision, the constant movement of travel, and the gathering of information at various offices and agencies had sent her mind swirling. The blessings from the Lamas today had centered her, calmed her. She realized that it was due time to call home.
“Tsering-la,” she said as she started to rise, “I’m going to find a telephone. I need to call home. I haven’t contacted my family in nearly two weeks time. They must be worried sick. I need to tell them about you, about us. It’s going to be a difficult conversation but I can’t put it off any longer.”
“You want I go with you?” Tsering asked supportively.
“No, that’s okay. You stay here and rest. I’ll be back soon. Maybe you want to think about calling home yourself. I know you must be homesick and it may do you good to hear your family’s voices.”
“I’m shy,” he replied. “They know news already. I am scared what they thinking.”
“Really? How would they know so fast?”
“Every villager in Sarnath knows. Tibetans like to talk. Our story travels fast. Like dragon in sky.”
“Wow. That’s incredible. Even if they do know already, I am sure they would like to hear from you. And from what you have told me about them, their love for you will be unaffected. I promise, it will feel good to speak with them. Think about it. I’ll be back soon and tell you how it went with my family.”
Jennifer left with just the simple mustard colored nun’s bag that her friend Nyima had sewn for her when she was wearing nun’s robes back in Sarnath. She walked up the hill and turned onto the road where she found a telephone shop. She entered one of the booths and picked up the red receiver. She looked up at the clock hanging beneath a smiling portrait of the Dalai Lama on the shop wall. It was early morning back home in the States. Her family would be awake but still at home eating breakfast. It was too early in the morning in Seattle where her sister Anne would still be sleeping. She decided to call her oldest sister in Boston first. Carolyn would take the news easily, offering good advice and support about how to break the news to their mother. It would be a warm-up practice call. The phone rang and Jennifer felt her heart beat speed up as her sister Carolyn picked up and answered her call.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Carol! It’s Jenn.”
“Oh my God, Jenn! Thank God it’s you. Where are you? Are you okay? Mom and Dad are worried sick!”
“I’m still here in India. I’ve been traveling. I’m in Dharamsala right now– the home of the Dalai Lama.”
“Oh, cool! Did you see him?”
“Yes, we actually received audience and blessing from His Holiness today. It was amazing!”
“Oh, I’m so happy for you, Jenni. That’s amazing. Why haven’t you called in so long? What’s going on? Why did you leave Sarnath?”
“Well, I left Sarnath kind of unexpectedly. It all happened so fast. Things have been so busy since we left and I just haven’t had any time to call until now.”
“What happened? Who’s ‘we’?”
“Well, that’s the thing. I fell in love.”
“What?! With who?! I thought you were going to take nun’s vows! You sounded so committed, so serious. Who is he?”
“His name is Tsering. He was a monk living at the monastery in Sarnath. We developed a beautiful friendship and traveled to Nepal together. It became clear to us a couple of weeks ago that our relationship had developed into more than just friendship.”
Carol laughed with excitement, “No offense, Jenni, but I had a feeling you weren’t going to make it as a nun! I’m so happy for you. What is he like?”
“He’s so kind, Carol. A real gentleman. Very sweet, very thoughtful. And he’s so talented. He’s a tangkha painter and a poet. You’re going to like him so much!”
“Does he speak English?”
“A little bit. He studies everyday and practices a lot with me.”
“Can I talk to him? I’d love to say hello.”
“He’s not here with me right now. He’s back at our room resting. I’ll tell him you want to talk with him, though.”
“How is he? He must be going through a lot right now. He left everything for you! What are you guys going to do? Can he come home to America with you?”
“Well that’s what were busy figuring out right now. He doesn’t have any papers and we have a lot of work to do in order to apply for an immigration visa. It’s going to be awhile before I, we, can come home.”
“Are you going to get married?”
“Yes. I’m not sure how or when, but yes.”
“Wow. This is all so much, so fast. How long do you think it’s going to take, to make the papers and come home?”
“I have no idea. It’s pretty involved. But don’t worry, I’ll be there for your wedding. I’ll come home alone if I have to and then return to Tsering in India after.”
“Well, that’s good to know. I wouldn’t want you to miss my wedding. Hopefully it will all work out by then. You need to call Mom and tell her.”
“I know. I wanted to call you first and ask your advice about how to break the news to her.”
“God, I don’t know. That’s a tough one, Jenni. You’re just going to have to tell her straight up. Just like you did with me. But don’t expect the same reaction you got from me! She’s not going to take it well, but she deserves to know, and from you.”
“I know. I’ll call her right now. Thanks for your support, Carol. I miss you!”
“Miss you, too, little sis. Be careful. And remember to call or e-mail home more often. Dad almost called the FBI to look for you!”
“The FBI? Why?!”
“He was scared someone had kidnapped you and sold you in the human-trafficking market.”
“What? Are you serious? That’s crazy! Poor Dad, what I’ve put him through.”
“I think he actually called the Khenpos and asked them where you were. I guess they told him that you had left Sarnath and were last seen in Delhi.”
“We haven’t called the Khenpos, yet. We haven’t called anybody. You’re the first to know. I’m going to call Mom right now. It’s too early to call Anne and Dad on the West Coast. I’ll try them tomorrow morning. Thanks again, Carol. I’ll be in touch soon. Love you.”
“Love you, too. Bye.”
Jennifer hung up the phone and then took a deep breath before picking up the receiver again and dialed her mother’s number. She pictured her mother Maureen and her stepfather Philip sitting quietly and peacefully in their living room drinking their morning coffee together. He, reading the New York Times and she, busy with the crossword. Jennifer did not want to disturb their peaceful morning but her news needed to be shared. It was now or never.
“Hello?” her mother answered.
“Hi, Mom. It’s Jenn.”
“Oh, Jenni! Thank goodness! How are you? Why haven’t you called? Where are you?”
Jennifer explained her circumstances to her mother. Everything went fine until she got to the part that included Tsering. That’s when her mom’s reactions grew silent. Jennifer could feel her mother’s anxiety mount through the phone line. She pressed on, making sure her mother knew the entire complicated story before losing her nerve.
“I’m sorry to cause you stress and worry, Mom. If there was an easier, slower way of going about it all we would have. It’s just that he was a monk and there wasn’t any time to take it slow and see how things worked out. It was an all or nothing situation.”
“You mean he was a monk?! Jenni, how could you?! How could you do this to me?! Please, stop, Jenni. I can’t hear any more right now. I need some time to take this all in. I’m just glad you’re safe.” But then Maureen couldn’t help herself from asking the bottom-line questions, “Have you thought about this at all? What’s he going to do? Does he speak English? Can he work?”
“He’s learning English and he’s very talented. He’s a poet and an artist. I’m sure he’ll find work. But we’re not even thinking about that stuff right now. We have a lot of challenges ahead of us just to get him to America.” That’s when Jennifer remembered what the consular back at the American Embassy in Delhi had told her. She was going to need a co-sponsor. But Jennifer knew this was not the right time to bring that issue up. Her mother needed more time to digest this huge amount of emotional news before talking about getting personally involved and invested in their relationship. “Mom, I’m sorry for disappointing you. But I’m so happy, we’re so happy. We’re really in love. You will like Tsering so much, I promise!” Her words fell on deaf ears. Jennifer felt so sorry for her mother, she was causing her such distress. “I’ve got to go, Mom. I promise to be in touch soon. I love you.” She hung up the phone, relieved that the hardest part was over but emotionally spent from the experience.
Jennifer paid the cashier for the calls home and stopped at a Tibetan restaurant and picked up some momos to share with Tsering for dinner. She turned off the road and down the hill to their room, carrying the plastic bag full of hot steamed dumplings. Momos had become her comfort food here in India. After the call home to her mom, she needed a little comforting.
“All right, Tsering. I did it! I’m free. It was just as difficult as I imagined it would be, but I feel so much better now. After we eat these delicious Momos you should call home, too. And by the way, my sister is really excited to talk to you. She wants you to know she is happy for us both and supports us. She sounded really curious about you. I think you’re going to like her.”
Tsering smiled and asked, “And what about Mom? Is she happy too?”
Jennifer decided to not share the entire truth with Tsering, she didn’t want to hurt his feelings. “She will be, Tsering. I know she will like you the moment she meets you.” Jennifer didn’t just say these words for his benefit, either. She truly believed it.
After finishing their meal, Tsering left to make his phone call home. He was nervous, but decided to take Jennifer’s advice and get it behind him. Jennifer accompanied him for support. Tsering entered a phone booth and took out his small brown address book. He dialed his family’s number back home in Tibet. Jennifer watched through the glass of the phone booth as Tsering spoke with his family members. The call lasted a long time and Jennifer grew sleepy as she waited. After half an hour Tsering emerged from the calling booth and Jennifer asked how it all went. Tsering explained that he spoke with many different members of his family– brothers, sisters, Mother and Fathers. Everyone was doing well and so happy to receive his call.
“Did you tell them our news? How did they react? Did they know already as you suspected?”
“They do not tell me they know already. But I know they do. They do not tell me how they feel. They just want to know I am safe and have enough to eat. I am sure they worry because I left the monastery.”
“Did you tell them about me?”
“Yes. I told them about you and me.”
“And what do they think?”
“I don’t know. They don’t say. They are happy I am okay. I told my mother I am going to live in America. She asked if America is near India!”
“Really? She doesn’t know where America is?”
“No. She has no idea. For her, India is very strange and far away. America is just another strange place to her.” Jennifer could see that Tsering missed his family very much and was sad to tell them that he would be going even further away from them.
“I know this is so hard for everyone, Tsering. But someday, we will go back to Tibet. I promise. As my husband, you will be able to apply for American citizenship and an American passport. And then you will be able to get a visa to go back home to Tibet. It’s all going to work out.” This encouraged Tsering and lifted his spirits.
The young couple paid for the call to Tibet and then decided it was time to purchase two tickets for the next bus to Dehradun. With tickets in hand they went back to their room and packed their things. They wanted to get a good night’s sleep so they could wake up early and catch the morning bus.
They woke in the morning and bought some fresh balep for the bus ride. While waiting for the bus to arrive in the central square of town, they bought two cups of sweet spiced tea from a roadside chai merchant. The bus pulled into the square and the passengers started to load on. Jennifer and Tsering threw their empty clay teacups onto the ground which broke into small pieces to be swept up by the tea merchant at the end of the day as is custom in India. They found two seats at the middle of the bus this time.
The ride took only six and a half hours. It was a smooth and easy ride back down into the valley. Jennifer and Tsering used the time to study their respective languages– she focusing on basic Tibetan vocabulary groups like food and clothing, he on English grammar and verb conjugations. The bus arrived into the crowded, dusty city center of Dehradun. It was hot and sticky again back in the city. The two got off the bus and Tsering asked some of the other Tibetans getting off the bus with them where they might find a room or hotel. The students he asked didn’t know– they suggested they try asking around at the Tibetan sweater market. The market happened to be just a few blocks down the road from where the bus had dropped them off.
Jennifer followed Tsering as he led her to the market whose entrance was marked by a colorful Tibetan-styled gate. Tsering asked around amongst the merchants about lodging and was given the name of a boarding house just across the street from the market. The couple found it and discovered that the accommodations consisted of a single large room shared by a dozen other Tibetan travelers. Tsering sat down with some of them and started to see what advice they might have in regards to the paper-making process. Apparently all of the Tibetans staying in this room were working on the very same thing. Dehradun was indeed the place to be for new Tibetan arrivals to India in need of identification. Jennifer noticed that the new arrivals had a completely different look and manner to them than the Tibetans born in exile here in India. Their skin was tanner, their faces brighter with rosy cheeks, and a sparkle in their eyes. They were wild and exotic, with an aura of magic and mystery surrounding them. Their clothing was heavy and dark, robes made of brown or black wool worn over deep red shirts or sweaters. Jennifer wondered how they could survive the oppressive Indian heat and humidity in clothing designed for their native mountain climate. Their jewelry and hair was ornamented with gorgeous coral, turquoise and amber stones. Jennifer imagined that they were nomads from the remote regions of the Tibetan plateau that she had read about. She noticed that Tsering felt very comfortable with these people. The women pulled Jennifer down to sit with them on their bed. They giggled and stroked her skin, admiring her pale and freckled complexion.
Tsering stood up and told Jennifer to come with him back to the market. He explained that the Tibetans here had given him the name of a good contact who could help him make his papers. “Her name is Dolma Tsering. She runs a sweater shop at the market,” he told her.
Jennifer was curious about the Tibetans she had just met, “Where are those Tibetan from, Tsering?” she asked.
“They are Khampas. Like me. They come from Kham.”
“Are we going to stay there in that room?”
“No. I think we find hotel better. Maybe not safe to share room with so many people.”
The couple arrived back at the Tibetan market and Tsering asked for Dolma Tsering. They were directed to the end of the market where they found a sweater booth.
“Tashi Delegs. Dolma Tsering yod re pe?” Tsering asked one of the boys who was working the booth if Dolma Tsering was available. The boy explained that Dolma was not at the market but that she would be returning soon. He invited them to take a seat and wait for her to return. He offered them hot sweet tea, pouring from a large thermos into two Tibetan styled cups. By the time they had finished their tea, a large Tibetan lady with silver hair wearing a traditional Lhasa chuba and striped apron approached the booth. The boy behind the counter whispered the woman’s name to Tsering who then stood up and placed his hands in prayer at his heart, bowing slightly at the waist. Jennifer followed suit.
“Tashi Delegs-la.” Tsering said. “Kye-rang Dolma Tsering yin pe?” Tsering asked politely to confirm she was Dolma Tsering.
“Tashi Delegs! Re, re. Nga Dolma yin.” The woman confirmed she was indeed the Dolma they were looking for. Tsering and Jennifer introduced themselves and then Tsering explained the purpose of their visit. Dolma listened and nodded her head as he told her his story. When he was finished she asked him a round of questions and then looked to Jennifer.
“Sorry I no English!” the old lady said apologetically.
“That’s okay, Dolma. No problem,” Jennifer said sympathetically. “Nga Bod-key yagpo min duk,” she added that she couldn’t speak Tibetan. “Nga-tso chikpa yin. We’re same!” Jennifer said and the two woman laughed.
Dolma told them she was willing to help. She understood the rules and process inside and out and was connected with the officials who approved the applications. She explained to them it was possible but that it would require a lot of time, money and patience. Her flat fee for doing the work for them was 3000 rupees. They would have to pay all application and processing fees separately. Tsering thanked Dolma for her time and told her they would think over her offer and come back tomorrow with a decision. It was getting late and the two needed to find a hotel. Tsering asked Dolma if she knew of any nearby hotels. She said most of the Tibetan hotels were far away from the market, located in the two Tibetan colonies on either side of the city. Tsering explained they didn’t want to travel too far until they had solidified their plans and knew how long they would be staying. Dolma didn’t have any suggestions so the two thanked her for her time and left the market.
They turned down the main road where the bus had left them off and checked into a the first hotel they found. It was called “Rang Mahal”– the Palace of Color– which was ironic because everything inch of the hotel was painted in dingy grey, brown or olive green tones. A bell hop took them to their room which was dark for lack of windows, but private– and they had a key to lock their door and belongings. Outside their room was a shared foyer with a balcony looking out onto the busy city street. The couple sat down in two chairs at a small table by the balcony railing. Tsering and Jennifer discussed Dolma’s offer and agreed that her price seemed reasonable. After all, they had no other choice! They were relieved to have finally received some positive news. Jennifer noticed an Indian restaurant across the street and realized she was hungry. She ordered a couple of curries and naan and had it delivered up to their balcony.
The next morning they met Dolma at the market as planned and told her they wanted to hire her. Tsering asked if she needed his two pieces of identification and she told him that would not be necessary. She was going to have to create a completely new identity for Tsering if he had any chance of getting papers. Dolma broke the entire process down for them. According to new regulations, she explained, only Tibetans born in India could qualify for the yellow IC book, IC standing for International Card or passport. In order to qualify for the yellow IC, he would need a green book. Green books were issued to all Tibetans and were used as a record for yearly taxes paid to the Tibetan government in exile. In order to qualify for a green book, he would need a blue RC, RC standing for Refugee Certificate. In order to apply for the blue RC, he would need a birth certificate. So that is where they would have to start. He was going to need a birth certificate stating that he was born in exile in India.
“How were they possibly going to accomplish all that?” Jennifer worried.
Dolma explained that she was going to “adopt” Tsering. He would have to lie and say that his parents had come to India on pilgrimage and given birth to him in exile. He would then have to claim that his parents were both deceased and that Dolma was his “auntie” who “adopted” him. Jennifer couldn’t believe that such a story would work but Dolma assured her that she was the “auntie” of a great number of other Tibetan “orphans” like Tsering. The first task was for Tsering and Jennifer to visit the Tibetan colony called Dekyiling where they would process Tsering’s birth certificate. He was going to need passport photographs for the various applications he would be submitting so she told them to get these taken before heading out to the settlement. Once arrived in Dekyiling, she instructed them to go to the mayor’s office and to mention her name.
After sitting for passport photos, they hired an auto rickshaw and instructed him to take them to the Tibetan settlement called Dekyiling off of Sahastradhara Road. Jennifer liked Dekyiling’s name which literally translated as “Happy Land.” They paid the driver and walked down the main road leading into the village. Tsering saw a couple of old men playing dice on the street and asked for directions to the mayor’s office. They pointed in the direction of a large white Stupa. Jennifer and Tsering made three circumambulations around the Stupa before proceeding on to their destination. When they arrived at the office there were a few other people waiting outside. Apparently the office was still on its lunch hour and they would have to wait for the clerk to return. Jennifer and Tsering needed to eat, too, so they decided to go find a restaurant. The were told they could get a bowl of thukpa just back down the road a bit. After lunch they returned to the office which was now open and receiving inquiries. Tsering introduced himself to the clerk and explained he was in need of a birth certificate. He mentioned Dolma’s name as she had suggested. The clerk asked him to take a seat and wait to speak with the mayor who was currently occupied with some other business.
Soon enough, the clerk called Tsering and Jennifer and led them to the mayor’s office. A middle aged man with a kind face sat behind a desk. The clerk introduced Tsering and then left the room. The mayor asked Tsering and Jennifer to take a seat in the chairs facing his desk. Tsering hesitated and the kind man insisted, assuring him that he need not worry about formalities. The mayor interviewed Tsering about his circumstances and seemed more than willing to assist him with his request for a birth certificate. Much to Jennifer’s surprise, the mayor told them that he was ready to issue the certificate right then and there so as to save them a trip back out to the settlement. He took a blank birth certificate out of a file and fed it into the typewriter that sat on a table under the window.
The mayor asked Tsering the names of his parents as he typed them in English onto the form. He then asked for Tsering’s date of birth. Tsering stalled and admitted he didn’t know his date of birth. The mayor laughed and commented that was typically Tibetan of him. Tsering mentioned that his family members told him he was born around the time of the barley harvest.
“How about October the 10th? That should be an easy date to remember– 10/10,” the mayor suggested. Tsering agreed and with a few taps on the typewriter keys that became his official date of birth. The mayor stamped and signed the document and handing Tsering a pen said, “Now you just need to sign on the line and we are finished! Do you have your photo?” Tsering signed while Jennifer handed the mayor one of Tsering’s photos. The mayor cut it down to size and then affixed it to the certificate.
“Da ta re. Done! I suggest you take this document into town and have it laminated for protection. I was nice enough to give it to you this time– I may not be so nice again!” the mayor laughed playfully. Tsering and Jennifer thanked the mayor for his support and assistance. They had just acquired the first piece of many more government issued papers to come.
The rest of the afternoon lay ahead of them and they decided to visit Jangchubling, the settlement’s Drikung Kagyu monastery. They entered the temple and prostrated three times before walking up to the shrine where they made offerings of prayers, white katags and rupees. They sat in meditation for a brief time with a sense of silent gratitude felt for the good fortune and blessings that seemed to be gracing them on their journey thus far.
They exited the dark cool confines of the temple and found that the afternoon heat was stifling. While waiting for a rickshaw on Sahastradhara Road to take them back to the city, Tsering met some young monks who mentioned they were on the way to Mussoorie to go swimming. Jennifer thought this sounded like a perfect way to spend the afternoon– she had lost patience with the dusty city of Dehradun and longed to breathe the fresh mountain air. So they joined the monks and shared a ride to the hill station of Mussoorie where they were dropped near the bank of a fresh mountain river. They followed the monks up the path that followed along the winding bank of the river, traveling upstream. Soon enough the river widened and flattened. Here many Indians were taking advantage of the natural swimming hole, relaxing and enjoying nature’s refreshing bath. There was a small shack renting tubes. The monks continued further upstream and then found some of their classmates who were already enjoying the festivities, fully soaked and making cannonball jumps into the deep water.
Tsering and Jennifer had fun watching the monks play in the water and then Jennifer felt the urge to swim, too. Being the only white person, she felt too shy to jump in there so she asked Tsering to follow her further upstream where perhaps there would find a more private spot to take a dip themselves. They kept following the path for another twenty minutes or so and then found a small but private swimming hole where they would be out of the curious stares of spectators. They did not have bathing suits so they just went right in wearing their clothes. Tsering was nervous– he did not know how to swim. But Jennifer showed him that it was quite shallow even at the deepest section. It was a fun diversion on an Indian summer day.
They spent the evening strolling along the road leading through the village of Mussoorie, enjoying the beautiful vistas of the valley. When night fell they boarded a bus headed back to Dehradun where they retired for the night in their room at the Rang Mahal. It had been an eventful and successful day.