I packed my two passports yesterday, boarded a bus in Seattle, and headed north to Vancouver, British Columbia. I had my actual, paper, US passport that would allow me to cross the border into Canada; and I had my faux passport, the black metal box with “Canon” painted on the front, the tool I use for making a visual diary of my everyday life, as well as the excuse I hang around my neck when I’m feeling curious and want to move about in the world outside my door.
Leah was on the bus with me, and so were about 50 Tibetans who live in Washington and Oregon. This week marks the 50-year anniversary of the Dalai Lama’s fleeing of Tibet during the 1959 Chinese invasion. Two of the Tibetans on the bus are friends of mine, and Leah and I wanted to join them as they traveled to Vancouver to rally in front of the Chinese embassy.
It’s weird that I felt, if only subconsciously, that I needed a camera to justify my presence at yesterday’s rally. The Tibetans couldn’t have been more welcoming of Leah and me, sharing milk tea and sweets with us as the bus traveled to the rally, thanking us, again and again, for caring about their cause.
When the bus arrived in Vancouver and the Tibetans from the American Pacific Northwest were joined by their Canadian counterparts, there were perhaps 100-150 Tibetans and supporters outside the Chinese embassy. No Chinese official came out to talk with the Tibetans, whose prayers and chanted slogans about peace, human rights, and autonomy for their homeland were met only by the stone wall that surrounds the embassy compound.
