by Marco Pallis
On the farther side of the mountain we stopped and spent the night in tents, and the following day we reached Lhodzong, where we met a man from Kino who was partly in charge of the Resistance troops. He told me his story, how he had met the commander Andrup Gönpo Tashi, who had impressed him as being a man of outstanding character; he thought that with such a leader directing their forces, the Resistance must be successful. My informant had been a senior official with the Riwoche administration and had been held in the greatest respect by everyone in the area. Kino Tulku wished us to consult him about our escape plans but, when we did so, he was unable to give us any useful advice; and in fact, he only expressed the opinion that it was unnecessary for us to leave the country.
Reaching Shi-tram Monastery, we found the monks there quite calm and engaged on their ordinary routine, but beyond that point we began to meet with difficulties. On the main road to Lhasa there were so many Resistance soldiers going in both directions, that very little grazing was available, added to which we found all provisions very expensive. We decided therefore to bypass the main road and follow a more round-about track which brought us near the home of some of Kino Tulku’s friends with whom we stayed for several days. The young abbot of Sephu, who had been one of my pupils at the wangkur, came to see us while we were there. He wanted to join our party with his mother, his tutor, and several monks. I explained to the tutor that this escape was likely to be a difficult business; we did not yet know where to go, there was so much uncertainty about what had happened at Lhasa itself; therefore I advised him to think things over carefully before deciding whether to join us or not. Supposing that the monks of his monastery wished to come with him, this would make further difficulties and would endanger the whole party. When ten of us left Drölma Lhakhang it had been unanimously agreed that the party should be kept small; but already we had been joined by other people together with their baggage. The next morning the tutor came back to tell us that his abbot, who was in a great state of excitement, was determined to come with us. He had sent a message to his monks telling them that he had decided to escape but that, since I had insisted that it would be impossible to travel in a large group, they must understand that they could not come with him. When the young abbot joined us he brought about twenty more mules to add to our transport. After several more days on the road we came across Ugyen Tendzin, a young monk going on pilgrimage to Lhasa. He also asked to join us, and Kino Tulku told him that he could put his baggage on one of his own mules. We found him most helpful with loading and unloading the animals, and afterward, at critical moments of the journey, he proved an invaluable member of our party, full of resource and courage.
The author’s escape route.
FOURTEEN
It Must Be India
THESE EARLY WEEKS were really enjoyable; it was spring and the flowers were beginning to bloom in the good weather. We were all feeling much more cheerful and looking forward to visiting Lhasa; we talked of the time when the Resistance army would defeat the Chinese. The one thing that puzzled us was that we never met anyone on the road returning from Lhasa, all travelers were going toward it. When we made enquiries in villages we passed on the way, some told us that the Resistance was in command at Lhasa, though most people agreed that the Dalai Lama had gone to India for safety, but they thought he would soon return. We were still wearing civilian clothes, and no one knew who we were. Some of the villagers took us for Resistance officials.
Now that we were no longer on the main road the way became more mountainous; however, we were not the only party to choose this less direct route, other groups of refugees from East Tibet were also traveling by the same way. Among them there were some people who had escaped from Nangchen, including the secretary of Ramjor Monastery in company with a few monks and eight or nine village families. The secretary asked us if we knew what had happened to Trungpa Tulku and said how sad it was that none of the lamas from the Surmang district had been able to get away: When he was told that I was Trungpa, he was overwhelmed. He gave us details of what had occurred at his own monastery, telling how the Communists had invaded it when the monks were holding a special service in the assembly hall. They had closed the entrance and had immediately shot a few monks, after which they arrested the others accusing them of hiding arms. The abbot came forward and tried to explain that he had always done his best to preach nonviolence to his followers, but even while he was insisting that there were no arms in the monastery he was shot in the forehead by the officer in command. The monks, including the secretary, were forced to bring down their library to be destroyed, being also made to hammer to pieces the images with their own hands. Many people in the surrounding villages were also arrested and taken to Nangchen with the monk prisoners. However, an order came from the Communist headquarters that most of the troops were to proceed elsewhere, so that only a few soldiers were left to guard the prisoners some of whom were able to escape, the secretary being among them. He added that any villagers who had been left in their homes were now also trying to escape.
As we were going over another pass we met Tulku Chi-me of Benchen Monastery whom I already knew; we were thankful to find him alive. I asked him if he had any news of the supreme abbot of Benchen, Sanggye Nyenpa Rinpoche, Dilgo Khyentse’s brother, who had looked after the young tulkus on their return from meeting the Dalai Lama at Derge Gönchen. He had heard nothing about him, except that he had left their monastery the year before and had reached Central Tibet, where he was staying with Gyalwa Karmapa. Benchen Monastery, which was near Jyekundo, had been attacked and all its treasures had been looted by the Communists; and since it was so near the airport half the building had been used to house members of the Chinese staff, while the assembly hall had been turned into a storehouse. The monks had scattered in all directions; he himself had gone to his family in the Nangchen area and they had all escaped together; most of them were now living in a large refugee camp. Such stories made my monks realize that we had no alternative but to escape.
By May 21 we reached a place near Pembar Monastery. Here it was necessary to get into contact with Pu Dündül, the commander in the Resistance who was in charge of all that area. Kino Tulku said he would go to this officer since he was personally known to him, with Yönten to accompany him. Pu Dündül gave them a passport for our party. He said that although no definite news had been received from Central Tibet, he was confident that the Resistance army was doing well and he was shortly expecting Andrup Gönpo Tashi to arrive with his troops. When he discovered that the young abbot of Sephu was with us, he said that no one from his district could be allowed to leave; everyone must remain in the area to fight. The following day the abbot’s tutor went to see him and begged him to allow the boy to escape, but he would not hear of it, so we had to leave the unfortunate young abbot and his companions behind.
Dorje Tsering, district official.
Yönten, a surmang monk.
The king of Derge’s cabinet.
A Resistance Khampa.
PHOTO: PAUL POPPER, LTD.
Yaks loaded with barley and firewood.
PHOTO: PAUL POPPER, LTD.
It was now necessary for us to regain the high road, as there was no other pass across the mountains, and we arrived at a place called Ugyen Tamda. There was a small temple in this village which was famous because it held an image of Ugyen Rinpoche otherwise known as Guru Padmasambhava, the apostle of Tibet; we held a special service there as it was the tenth day of the month according to the Tibetan calendar, which is the particular day for these devotions. We were also shown Tsongpön Norbu Sangpo’s saddle and a Tibetan version of the Chinese Book of Changes (I Ching) which had belonged to him. He was a merchant who lived in the seventh century and his name was still honored, for he was a very spiritual man, besides having compiled the first written record of Tibet’s trade with other countries.
Ahead of us lay the very high pass of Sharkong La; it was extremely steep and the weather was very stormy, so when we had got a
bout halfway up we camped for the night. Several Resistance soldiers who were guarding the pass came down to us to beg for food and transport. We gave them some food but said we had no animals to spare. They seemed to be very keen on guarding the pass and were strong young men, but only equipped with old-fashioned muskets.
The next morning we returned to the climb; the weather was still bad, with a strong wind blowing in our faces which made progress difficult. The baggage kept falling off the mules and we all had to help in getting the loads settled again and this caused delays. Three young men came down from the pass whom we discovered to be deserters from the Resistance army on their way home. They said that the Chinese were very strong in Central Tibet and Lhasa itself might be under their control, but they had no firsthand information. They could tell us little about conditions on our route, for they had traveled mostly by night, following mountain tracks. As there were only three of them, they had managed to escape detection; they said they thought that concealment would be more difficult for a large party like ours.
When we reached the top of the pass I, Kino Tulku, and Akong Tulku dismounted to give the traditional traveler’s shout of victory, after which we duly added a flag to the cairn. Meanwhile, the rest of the party had gone ahead. The track on the further slope was very steep and covered with fine slate dust which made it extremely slippery, so we dismounted and this greatly delayed our reaching the next camp. When we got there tea was ready and our tents were pitched; it was pleasant to chat over a warming cup of tea. Some of our party thought that since the three soldiers had deserted, they might be feeling a little guilty and thus have been led to exaggerate about the hopelessness of the situation. They had been so vague about everything, it appeared that they really knew very little. We came to no decision about our plans, but felt a little uneasy because of the fact that no one was traveling toward Lhasa on this main road.
It began to rain heavily, so we decided to remain encamped during the next day; early in the morning, while we were sitting in camp, some men on horseback were seen coming toward us. They were wearing dark clothes and some of them were carrying rifles. Great was our surprise when they turned out to be Yak Tulku with his devotee Dorje Tsering, the head of the district around Yak, whose wife, brother, and two attendants had also accompanied him. As we drank tea Yak Tulku told us that his baggage was following on some sixty mules; he and his party had hastened on ahead to ask us to wait for it to arrive. He gave us the serious news that Pashö had been completely overrun and that conditions at Chamdo were extremely bad. He said that nothing had happened as yet at either Drölma Lhakhang or Yak. There was a strong Resistance force in the Trayap district who had cut the road when the Communists were taking lorries full of loot from Pashö to Chamdo and thus they had succeeded in recovering much of the stuff.
I was delighted to see Yak Tulku again, but realized that his arrival could only mean further difficulties for us all since he had not followed my request to travel lightly; to add to my anxiety, he told me that yet another party was on its way with more baggage loaded on yaks which go very slowly. The exit from Yak had been so public that all the villagers around that place and Drölma Lhakhang had begun to panic. They thought that if all their spiritual directors were leaving there was nothing left for them but to follow; a large party had started and was now also on its way. Yak Tulku sent a message to tell those of his monks who were in charge of the baggage mules where they could find us and again he asked me to wait for their arrival. This obliged us to stay in the same camp for several days, during which time some of the local villagers came to see us thinking that we were Resistance troops. They brought food as an offering to the soldiers and were surprised when we offered to pay for it. Knowing the surrounding country they were able to tell us where we could find grazing for our many animals.
When Yak Tulku’s mules arrived we decided to stay where we were for another day or two to concert our plans. Looking at the camp, it appeared enormous and I wondered how we would ever manage to escape with so many men and animals. We had to push on, and on our way down all we could see were endless ranges of mountains stretching out before us. After a couple of days we came to a place called Langtso Kha where we camped by a small lake surrounded by rocky hills. We were told that Resistance troops from Central Tibet had already arrived at a nearby village, which meant additional complications for us, for at this point the valley entered a steep gorge where perpendicular rocks in places went right down to the river, so that the track could not be carried further on the same side of the water and travelers had to get across to the opposite side. For this primitive bridges had been built. Even then, there were parts of the gorge which were so steep that no path could run alongside the river; in these places the pathway had been taken over the rocks and, wherever it was blocked by impassable rock faces, platforms made of planks had been built around the obstacle, these being supported on posts fixed into the cliff below. We were not sure if these would be strong enough for heavy loads such as ours and the road all along was so narrow that it was evident that, if we happened to meet Resistance troops coming from the opposite direction, neither party would be able to pass. However, we could not stay by the lake because of the difficulty of finding grazing for our many animals, for what little there was was needed for the Resistance army.
We sent some messengers ahead to enquire if further troops were to be expected; they were told that at the moment there was a lull, but more men were expected shortly, and some important leaders had already arrived. Yönten and Dorje Tsering went down to the village to buy supplies and to see the officer in command. He told them that fighting was going on in several places, but did not mention Lhasa. He also said that he was expecting more troops at any moment. He had found the bridges across the river and the platforms on the road were in very bad condition and was arranging for their repair. There was nothing for us to do except to wait where we were. Meanwhile the weather had improved; I had my books with me so I started a study group. Having finished the book on meditation, I began to work on an allegory about the kingdom of Shambhala and its ruler who will liberate mankind at the end of the dark age.
Bridge over the Alado Gorge.
Akong Tulku with his young brother and myself used to go for delightful climbs on the surrounding mountains which were covered with flowers. The local landowner proved very friendly; he frequently invited the senior members of our party to meals and allowed us to graze our animals on his land; also peasants came to see us and sold us some food. One day Karma Tendzin came through with his detachment; they were returning from Lhasa after its fall to the Chinese. We had known for a long time that he had left his home to join the Resistance. Numbers of refugees were coming back along the road together with the soldiers, and we realized that it would be impossible for us to travel against the traffic. Some of the refugees came and camped near us by the lake. They told us all sorts of rumors; some said that the Dalai Lama had come back, others, that the Chinese troops were advancing toward our area. With such crowds of people escaping, there was a growing shortage of food and grazing, and our friend the landowner and the neighboring villagers were getting very anxious about it. In comparison with these hordes our party seemed quite small. We knew, however, that we must make plans to move elsewhere, and learned that if we retraced our steps we could follow another valley going northwestward. So we thanked the landowner for all his kindness and broke camp.
It was now early June. We traveled for about a week; each day we had to cross a high pass. One day, we passed a man who came from Lhathok, he told us that he had escaped with some nine families, with one Repön as leader. They had brought all their possessions and animals with them and had established themselves in a small valley nearby, where the country was very open with good grazing. The following day they all came to see us bringing barrels of curd, cheeses, and fresh milk which we much appreciated, for on our travels we had had all too few milk products. They suggested that they might follow us, but when they realize
d that we ourselves did not know where we were going, they thought that they also should make no plans for the time being. I gave them my blessing and we moved on. The next day we came to Khamdo Kartop’s camp; he had been one of the king of Derge’s ministers, and was a follower of Jamgön Kongtrül of Sechen; he had some forty families with him. He told us how his party had fought their way westward in spite of having women and children with them. Their young men were strong and experienced; they had been successful at Kongpo and had captured some of the Communists’ ammunition. Now they were in the same position as ourselves, not knowing where to make for. Khamdo Kartop had the same views as myself, he did not want to be responsible for looking after other refugee parties. He knew that there was no chance of going toward Lhasa since the main road was strictly guarded and said he thought that the Resistance army still had their headquarters at Lho Kha; they had fought with great bravery in Central Tibet, but had too few men and very little ammunition. He had heard that Andrup Gönpo Tashi had gone to India and, like myself, he was sure that we must all try to get there. In any case we could not stay where we were, on the border of the territory controlled by the Resistance.
I returned to our camp to hear the news that Lama Ugyen Rinpoche was leading a party of refugees from the east in the hopes of reaching India. He was going south by a holy mountain which was a place of pilgrimage. Kino Tulku knew all about the country there and thought that it might be a good plan to go toward India by the Powo Valley. We held a meeting in the camp to discuss the situation. Some thought that we should join up with Khando Kartop’s party, but none of us were in favor of fighting, so this did not seem to be a very sensible move. Others suggested that we should follow Lama Ugyen. However, our party for the most part wanted to keep separate, for if we joined with other groups our numbers would become dangerously large. Since we knew that we could not stay where we were, I decided that we must continue southward at least for a few months, and by that time we would know more about the state of affairs in Tibet; refugees were coming in from all directions and we would soon learn what was happening everywhere. I sent Dorje Tsering to inform Khando Kartop of our plans. I said that in the future we might wish to cooperate, but for the present I had decided to act on my own.