Tibet

Dear Stranger on the R Train,

You sat across from me reading a book. I sneaked a peek at the title and saw it was, Seven Years in Tibet. As I rode, across from you, I googled the book reviews. The five-star ratings along with the acclaim caused me to request it from the local library.

It is a travel book written by Austrian mountaineer and Nazi SS sergeant Heinrich Harrer based on his real life experiences in Tibet between 1944 and 1951 during the Second World War. How strange is that?!

I recognized you as being Tibetan. After asking you if the book is good; you told me that it is, and  said, “I was born in India. My story is complicated.”

I asked if like the Dalai Lama your family was exiled to India.

“Yes,” you replied. “I’ve never seen my country that’s why I’m reading this book.”

I am interested in you. I care about your people. They are my neighbors. Your restaurants are around us. You dance in the nearby playground. Thanks to you, I now know you dance on Wednesdays because it is the day when the Dalai was born. I see the prayer flags. I enjoy momos, those delicious little dumplings. Your people smile a lot. They make caring and friendly nurses at Elmhurst Hospital.

Your slogan is, “Free Tibet.” Because Tibet isn’t free, you live by me. I like this. I ate Yak Sha Bakleb (yak meat dumpling) this evening at the Queens Night Market because of meeting you on the train early this morning.

“You will really enjoy the book,” you told me as the doors opened at Roosevelt Island, and I stepped off the train.

I’ll long remember the conversation. Thank you!

Berniece, a conservative Mennonite woman who’s interested in the peoples of the world.