Prayers for Nepal

Beginning in the 1950's when when the Chinese first invaded Tibet  (and continuing to this day,) Tibetans fleeing their homeland have very often first sought sanctuary in either Northern India,  or Nepal. Thus, when news came to us early Saturday morning of a terrible earthquake in the Himalaya, my friends in the Seattle Tibetan community held their breath because many of them have family or friends still living in that mountainous and isolated land.

Leah and I too were concerned. We first trekked in the Nepal Himalaya for a month in 2007, and this past summer we traveled to northern India, and also back to Nepal. We have friends in that part of the world now, and one Nepali family is particularly dear to us. They live in Kathmandu and we stayed with them for a week in July. 

Several anxiety-filled days passed this week before we were able to make contact with our Nepal friends and learn they are okay. They are living in an open area now, away from buildings that might collapse, apparently taking temporary shelter under some kind of tarp or tent. They told us that about 500 people, now homeless, are clustered at that same open area, and I suspect the scene is repeated all over Kathmandu.

Many of our Seattle neighbors, friends,  and Leah's co-workers at the law firm have been moved by the news they have seen from Nepal. They've stepped forward to contribute money, asking that we wire it to our friends in Kathmandu, which we have done.

I shot today's blog pictures Saturday night when the Tibetan community in Seattle came together at their Buddhist monastery to offer prayers.

Uprising Day 2015

I traveled to Canada last week to photograph the Tibetan communities of British Columbia and Washington state, protesting at the Chinese Consulate in Vancouver.

I did not set out, consciously or deliberately, to make photographs that said "Courage," though, looking at these images, that is what these pictures communicate to me.

The protest marked the anniversary of "Uprising Day," the date in 1959 when Tibetans tried to rebel against Chinese occupation of Tibet. The Tibetans were put down, swiftly, violently, and brutally,  by the Chinese military. And the Dalai Lama was forced to flee, on horseback, over the Himalaya to exile in India.

Over 50 years after the uprising,  unrest continues in Tibet.  In the past several years,  over 130 Tibetans in Tibet, mostly  Buddhist monks and nuns,  have set themselves on fire (self-immolated) to protest Chinese oppression.

The event I photographed in Vancouver was peaceful and somber, and began with a prayer  for those who have died.

Some protesters covered their faces to preserve their anonymity. Though these Tibetans have emigrated to freedom in Canada or the United States, they do not want their actions here to bring on Chinese reprisals against their relatives back in Tibet.

Three Events

I joked in this space last week about how my end-of-summer wedding work has been keeping me busy and cutting into my hiking time, and the same wisecrack could be made about the volunteer shooting I do for the Seattle-area Tibetan community.

In all seriousness, however, this work is most definitely a labor of love, and the Tibetans have become like family to me. I'll gladly sacrifice hiking time for them.

Today I thought I’d post excerpts from three shoots I’ve done recently for the Tibetan Association of Washington.

The first five pictures are from Tibet Fest, held annually the last weekend in August at the Seattle Center.  It’s an event where the local Tibetan community shares its culture of food, dance,  and song with the city of Seattle. I do lots of pictures of the various on-stage performances,  and the Tibetans post those images on their web site and Facebook page.

What I’m posting here, however,  are off-stage and behind-the-scenes moments from Tibet Fest -- a few of my personal faves from the two-day event.

A couple of Saturdays ago,  one of my Tibetan monk friends was giving a teaching, but it happened that I was booked to shoot a wedding that day. Fortunately,  the timing of my “work” shoot was such that, on the way to the wedding,  I was able to first make a stop at the Tibetan monastery,  listen to at least a little of my friend’s teaching, and quietly shoot a few pictures,  which I later emailed to him.

Because Tibet Fest was such a success, a celebration dinner was held last weekend so that the Tibetan community as a whole could thank the many individuals who had volunteered at Tibet Fest (myself included.)

Seventeen monks from the Namgyal Monastery in northern India, currently on tour in the US, happened to be visiting Seattle that day.  The monks were invited to the dinner and enthusiastically took part in the laughter and celebration. At the end of the evening, a ceremonial scarf was presented to the monks, who, in turn, offered a prayer to the community.

 

 

Whole Milk

After spending most of July in and around the very high mountains of Northern India and Nepal, returning to Seattle and sea level made August my Superman Month.  Everything physical that I have done now that I’m home --  like running trails near my house, or even hiking in the Cascades -- has felt so ridiculously easy.  The air here is like rich, fat-filled whole milk, compared to the non-fat, skim milk atmosphere of the Himalayas.

I lost weight on our trip,  but feel now like I’m gaining it back, just by breathing.

The pictures I’m posting today are images I’ve shot on hikes in the Cascades during Superman August.  Above is Sherman Peak on Mt. Baker as seen from the Ptarmigan Ridge Trail. Below are wildflowers along Lost Creek Ridge near Glacier Peak.

I miss the adventure and excitement of India and Nepal, but, at the same time, it does feel good to be home and enjoying a Pacific Northwest summertime (oh yes, the living is easy.)

 

Kathmandu from a Rooftop

(Leah and I recently returned from a three week trip to India and Nepal. This is the 13th of about 15 daily posts I will do, sharing photos and journal notes I made as we traveled.)

Kathmandu, Nepal
July 14, 2014

This is summer monsoon season in Nepal, which made our flight last night from India into this Himalayan city:
A: An Air Travel Adventure, and
B: Visually stunning.

The flight from Delhi to Kathmandu normally takes just a bit over an hour, but, last night, as our flight began its descent into Kathmandu, our pilot was informed that a heavy, monsoon-season rainstorm made a landing impossible. Our plane went back to India.

An hour or so later, the Kathmandu weather improved enough so that our plane could make a second attempt. I had a window seat, and my view of the sun, setting into the abating storm clouds,  was incredible.

We landed safely in Kathmandu. Leah and I made our way through a number of points of security officialdom to get our passports stamped and Nepal visas approved, then, happily  met up with our Nepali friends who, we learned, had been waiting at the Kathmandu airport for 5 hours for our arrival.

Our friends took us to their home where we had a wonderful reunion visit, after which everyone retired for the evening.

During the night, I awoke in a sweat, barely making it to the toilet in time to be sick.
(Leah had a bout with Delhi Belly a couple of days earlier, and now it was my turn.)

Today I still feel crummy, and am laying low at our friends' home, limited to "sightseeing" from the rooftop of their home in the "New City" neighborhood of Kathmandu.

I may not be feeling my best, but I'm well enough to be wowed by what I'm seeing of this amazing city.

Honoring Elders

(Leah and I recently returned from a three week trip to India and Nepal. This is the 12th of about 15 daily posts I will do, sharing photos and journal notes I made as we traveled.)

Leh, Ladakh (India)
Sunday, September 13, 2014

Two days ago, Leah and I -- and about 150,000 others who are here this week for the Kalachakra teachings -- took part in the celebration held to honor the 79th birthday of His Holiness, the Fourteenth Dalai Lama. Because the Dalai Lama has a twinkle in his eye and a boyish, sometimes-mischievous laugh that seem to belong to someone much younger, I hear that plans are already underway for a party of major proportions when he turns 80.

Though I have photographed people of all ages during our time here, this surely seems to be a culture that honors its elders. Everywhere we went in Leh, there were older Ladakhis and Tibetans who were out, living active, involved lives. The  Kalachakra grounds were in a very remote area that required a lot of walking in the intense, high-desert heat. Nevertheless, it appeared to be a given that grandma or grandpa would join the younger family members on the pilgrimage to the teaching.

We depart Ladakh early tomorrow morning, and I will be sad to leave. I do, however, look forward to getting to a less remote place where telephone service is easier.  My mother is in her 80's,  and, except for the days that Leah and I have been on this trip,  I typically talk to Mom every day. I want to call her and tell her I have been thinking of her.

Hemis Festival

(Leah and I recently returned from a three week trip to India and Nepal. This is the 11th of about 13 daily posts I will do, sharing photos and journal notes I made as we traveled.)

Hemis Monastery, Ladakh
July 13, 2014

Today Leah and I hired a driver with a sturdy vehicle and nerves of steel to take us out the winding, bumpy, precipitous road that climbs high above the Indus River out to three secluded monasteries:  Shey, Thikse, and Hemis. Our ultimate destination was the annual Hemis Festival, an amazing and colorful spectacle of Tibetan Buddhist ceremonial dance.

Though we came to Ladakh primarily to attend the Kalachakra teaching by the Dalai Lama, we found that the teaching schedule was such that we could squeeze in the trip to Hemis, and we jumped at the opportunity.