The Collected Works of Chogyam Trungpa: Volume One (22 page)

On this occasion, Gyalwa Karmapa would officiate at the presentation of all the gifts from Palpung as well as those from the neighboring monasteries and from the important laity of the district; they would all be placed together in the center of the hall in the prescribed order.

At the finish of the council meeting, Gyalwa Karmapa was invited to come for a rest at the summer residence of some of the higher-ranking lamas at Palpung. These private residences were situated about half a mile from the monastery; they were charmingly built, with their own gardens and stables. The Chinese officials and bodyguard, being still with Gyalwa Karmapa, were also able to relax there; they played football in the garden and we were able to talk to them in a most friendly way and even to joke with them. Away from Communist authority, they were natural and seemed to take an interest in everything. At that time many Tibetans were on excellent terms with the Chinese, as long as the latter were out of sight of the Party members in charge.

While Gyalwa Karmapa was resting we were still able to go to have informal talks and teaching from him and I spoke to him about my idea of enlarging the seminary at Dütsi Tel; he was most encouraging in spite of the Chinese situation. All this month I spent the time usefully by meeting abbots and professors from other monasteries, while in the evenings and early mornings I worked at my own studies. Apho Karma realized that I had learned a lot during the past year and began at last to treat me as an adult.

During the time that Gyalwa Karmapa was away, the committee at Palpung had established a camp near Derge Gönchen, the capital of Derge, for we expected that His Holiness would spend a night with us. This meant a very large camp; five hundred tents were required since, besides those destined for the Dalai Lama and his party, about four hundred others were needed for all the Kagyü lamas who had attended the council meeting. It was necessary to obtain the approval of both Tibetan and Chinese officials for these arrangements. When Gyalwa Karmapa returned to us, we all left for the camp.

The special tent for His Holiness had a separate bedroom and sitting room and was beautifully decorated throughout. Another tent was needed for audiences and this housed the Dalai Lama’s throne; there were more tents for committee and cabinet meetings and for the rest of his party. Each tent was of a different size, shape, and design; most of them were lined with white silk adorned with brocade hangings and thangkas. A gold-plated serto (crest ornament), the emblem of dignity, rose over each tent; the tent ropes were black with red ornaments, and the pegs took the form of gilt images of various demigods; flowers had been planted all round and the whole camp looked very welcoming.

The day before His Holiness was expected to reach the king’s palace we made ready to go to meet him. First, a procession was organized to escort Gyalwa Karmapa to Derge Gönchen whose monks, belonging to the Sakya school, were to be our hosts. The procession was very colorful; eighty abbots preceded Gyalwa Karmapa and his staff, and he was followed by three hundred monks; everyone was on horseback. The senior lamas wore their maroon robes under long-sleeved yellow brocade riding coats, with vermillion stoles draped across their shoulders; a cord round the waist and across one shoulder held everything in position, being clasped at the back by a gold amulet case and joined in front with a gold tassel. They wore their summer hats of gold lacquer with round crowns and brims. The horses were gaily caparisoned and carried the ornament of the serto between their ears; their saddles were plated with gold while the flaps were of gold brocade.

As we approached the monastery which lay near the king’s principal palace, monks with banners and musical instruments came to escort us along the road, and at the monastery we were welcomed by other musicians on the roof.

The king himself belonged to the Sakya school, so he had invited Phüntsok Photrang Rinpoche, the head of that school, together with his party, to be guests at another of his residences.

The Dalai Lama was due to arrive the following day; he was to stay with the king at the chief palace. When his car was some two miles away the king with Phüntsok Photrang and Gyalwa Karmapa drove out, also in cars, to meet him. He was accompanied by his tutor, and his staff followed in two more cars. Thousands of people were lining the road which was decorated with designs in colored sand and had a white cloth laid upon it for the cars to pass over; they had crowded in from all parts of the district to greet the Dalai Lama, but were very disappointed at seeing so little of him, since the Chinese authorities had insisted that he should travel in a closed car. The king and the two abbots escorted the Dalai Lama’s party back to the palace, all going at a very slow pace with a monk walking behind the Dalai Lama’s car carrying a ceremonial umbrella. The abbots of both schools stood in rows a short distance from the palace, Sakyapas on the right-hand side and Kagyüpas on the left, but like the country crowds we could hardly see His Holiness shut up, as he was, in the closed car, nor did we see the party alight outside the palace where the king’s ministers were waiting on the steps; the king himself, carrying incense sticks, then conducted the Dalai Lama into the palace to the welcoming sound of music.

Next day His Holiness gave a wangkur and a short talk in the great hall of the monastery. He said that our religion should come foremost in our lives to bind us together, but we should try to have a friendly attitude toward the Chinese. We sat in the first row and it was almost unbelievable and extremely moving for us to see His Holiness in our part of Tibet. Despite official pomp and ceremony, the Dalai Lama made it evident that he had come as a friend to his people, smiling his greeting as he went to his throne escorted by his solemn, formal officials. He made us feel that he really wanted to be among us in East Tibet which he had been unable to visit before. He gave me personally a wider vision, since I now understood what it meant to be the incarnation of Avalokiteshvara, the Bodhisattva of Compassion, for this was apparent in the Dalai Lama’s serenity and radiance, which one could feel was part of him. We were beginning to lose heart, for the Communists were becoming so powerful; it seemed as if our happy days were coming to an end; however, the presence of His Holiness gave us renewed hope that the spiritual teaching and culture of Tibet could not be entirely swept away. Yet it was sad to see him looking so thin and strained as a result of the heavy burden he had to carry.

While we were at Derge Gönchen we were taken over parts of the palace which was very interesting. It was already old when the great king of Derge, Chögyal Tenpa Tsering, after having conquered the surrounding province, made Derge Gönchen his capital in the eighteenth century. He used to travel incognito all round the districts to see for himself in what condition his people were living and if justice was being properly administered. We were shown the library which he had built. This had its own printing press; the woodblocks for printing the scriptures (the finest of their kind in Tibet) as well as the printed books themselves were stored here. This press was famous all over the country, for there were only two other such establishments in Tibet. The library was considered to be a holy place, even though work was carried on there, for its books were all connected with Buddhist teaching. Chögyal Tenpa Tsering, besides being a good ruler, was himself a notable scholar; he was a devotee of all the schools and his library contained a variety of important works, among them, 108 volumes of translations of sutras (the Kangyur), a number of old and new translations of the Buddhist tantras, and also many volumes of commentary by early Indian Buddhist scholars (the Tengyur), all translated from Sanskrit; the great Tai Situ Chökyi Jungne had corrected most of the proofs for the printers. The celebrated woodcarvers here were known as the Kutsi school.

The king of Derge was still very young and his mother was acting as regent. She gave us an audience and we noticed how pale and thin she looked, for she was always under the strain of dealing with the Chinese and attending their meetings in addition to her work on state affairs. She was simply dressed in dark blue brocade and wore small gold earrings, with a reliquary round her neck and a turquoise ornament in her hair.

We also met the head of the Sakya school, Phüntsok Photrang Rinpoche, who had been to China with the Dalai Lama. He told us that coming back to Tibet had seemed like a dream. He had felt before he went away that his country had reached a crisis and that the time had come for us all to consider our future more thoughtfully. While he was away he had been quite exhausted, so he said, and it was restful to be back here again, but if he seemed lazy and wished to forget the experience, we others must not imitate him; those who had not suffered the strain of this turmoil might still be able to work out clearly what should be done: It does not matter to what school one belongs, all must work together. Before we left he gave us his blessing.

When we were returning to our camp Gyalwa Karmapa asked Sanggye Nyenpa Rinpoche, an older lama, to take charge of our party, for at that time most of the Kagyü lamas were quite young. We were so lively and friendly among ourselves that everyone who saw us was struck by it.

Back at our camp, we finished our preparations for the Dalai Lama’s visit. In the afternoon, however, to our great disappointment we received a message that His Holiness would be unable to stay the night, because the Chinese required him to return to Central Tibet; he could only spend two hours at the camp and take lunch with us. So many people had looked forward for months to this visit that the disappointment was general; it was apparent that His Holiness was prevented from doing as his people wanted, but had to obey the orders of the Communists.

The next day, he arrived in his car and the welcoming ceremony took place as planned. He blessed us by reciting
The Heart Sutra of Perfection of Wisdom
(
Prajnaparamita-hridaya Sutra
) and took a meal with us at the camp, after which the ceremonial offerings were duly made to him. He returned all the gifts and only kept the scroll on which the list of gifts had been written. He presented the Kagyü order with his own brocade robe and some rolls of handwoven cloth and left us with the words “My thoughts will always be with you; I am distressed at being unable to stay the night, but I am really happy to have spent these two hours with you.” Before leaving, His Holiness performed the hair-cutting ceremony of primary upasaka for the infant Tai Situ Lama, whom Gyalwa Karmapa had enthroned at Palpung.

While I was at the camp a messenger came from Surmang saying that a senior lama of a neighboring monastery had died and that the monks wanted me to perform the rites. Akong Tulku and my two monks took the baggage back to Sechen, and I started on my way, traveling for the first day in company with Gyalwa Karmapa as far as Kamtho Trukha, where the Chinese had installed a ferry to cross the Dri-chu. Here Gyalwa Karmapa left for Chamdo, where the Dalai Lama was expected. His last words to me were that I must first finish my studies and then improve and enlarge the seminary at Dütsi Tel. He went away at seven o’clock in the morning in rain and mist in a small car provided by the Chinese. It was all so quick that there was no opportunity to say goodbye; he had disappeared in a moment, waving a white scarf from the car. Other lama friends left at the same time in different directions, and I found myself alone with the two Surmang monks. It seemed strangely quiet and peaceful after so much bustle, and we rode on through beautiful wild valleys to our monastery some seven days’ journey away.

When I reached Surmang we held a meeting for all the monks and the more important laity of the district; I told them about the Dalai Lama and I gave them his message; but like His Holiness I found myself in the same difficulty, for I could not talk openly, since there were many Chinese officials among us. However, having seen how restricted even the Dalai Lama had to be, I found it easier to impose the necessary restraint upon myself. Indeed, not having an official position, there was little I could do; I wanted, however, to give my people as true a picture of the situation as possible, and some idea of what our future aims might be. I discussed this with my secretary, the senior lamas, and the people’s representatives, some of whom had been in contact with the Communists. All had the feelings of loyal Tibetans, but thought we were not in a position to do anything other than to accept the Chinese domination. At that time there was some hope that the jurisdiction of the committee which was going to be formed in Lhasa, ostensibly under the Dalai Lama, would include East Tibet. Unfortunately the Chinese had already divided up the country into separate regions, and our region was assigned to Sining which the Chinese considered to be entirely separate from Tibet proper. They said, “All Tibet belongs to us, especially the Sining district which is not even Tibet. You are part of China, and it would be entirely inappropriate to combine you with Central Tibet.” We ourselves always considered that the people who speak Tibetan and eat roasted barley (tsampa) as their staple food are Tibetans.

Already during the Chinese Nationalist regime of Ma Pu-fang, which preceded the Communist invasion, we had gone through much suffering. Very high taxes had been levied, but at least we had been allowed liberty of religion; now all we could do was to pray and hope that there would be unity in Tibet, under His Holiness the Dalai Lama.

When I was able to leave Surmang, I visited the monastery where the senior lama had died and we held the funeral ceremony. Returning to Dütsi Tel I called a meeting to discuss enlarging the seminary as Gyalwa Karmapa had advised. Our present one was only full in the summer and very few monks attended it in the winter. It was not even a separate establishment; I wanted it to have its own building, as this had been the intention of the tenth Trungpa Tulku. He had wanted this to be undertaken as soon as he had established the five meditation centers on which he had set his heart, saying, “If enemies come and destroy the building, we in fact lose nothing; the worthwhileness of the deed is eternal.”