Stacey Van Vleet
A Review of A Northeastern Tibetan Childhood
Abstract:
In A Northeastern Tibetan Childhood, Tsering Bum (Tshe ring ‘bum) gives a very personal account of growing up in a rural village in the Amdo region of Tibet, part of today’s Qinghai province of China. Tibetan culture and its perpetuation emerge as the central concerns of his series of sometimes humorous, sometimes touching vignettes that richly detail daily life. For Tsebum (as he is also known), Tibetan culture includes family and community relationships, conflict and its resolution, sickness and healing, village and monastery rituals, ceremonies and festivals, language and education, and the stories of his elders. Tsebum writes from within China, so he is unable to address the nationalist politics that infuse so many exile Tibetan memoirs. He does imply, however, that he is much more interested in working to improve Tibetans’ daily lives within Tibet according to the current political reality than in changing this reality. Born in 1985, Tsering Bum did not live through the turbulent times of his parents and grandparents. He is instead a child of China’s political relaxation in administering his part of Tibet. What Tsebum does focus on are continuing environmental and economic hardships, social tension, and cultural encroachment. Remarkably, in his account Tibetans are never portrayed as mere victims of any of these forces.
In A Northeastern Tibetan Childhood, Tsering Bum (Tshe ring ‘bum) gives a very personal account of growing up in a rural village in the Amdo region of Tibet, part of today’s Qinghai province of China. Tibetan culture and its perpetuation emerge as the central concerns of his series of sometimes humorous, sometimes touching vignettes that richly detail daily life. For Tsebum (as he is also known), Tibetan culture includes family and community relationships, conflict and its resolution, sickness and healing, village and monastery rituals, ceremonies and festivals, language and education, and the stories of his elders. Tsebum writes from within China, so he is unable to address the nationalist politics that infuse so many exile Tibetan memoirs. He does imply, however, that he is much more interested in working to improve Tibetans’ daily lives within Tibet according to the current political reality than in changing this reality. Born in 1985, Tsering Bum did not live through the turbulent times of his parents and grandparents. He is instead a child of China’s political relaxation in administering his part of Tibet. What Tsebum does focus on are continuing environmental and economic hardships, social tension, and cultural encroachment. Remarkably, in his account Tibetans are never portrayed as mere victims of any of these forces.
The central characters of Tsering Bum’s narrative are his family and community members. Tsebum is the youngest child of a farming and herding household that he very specifically locates in Ske ba village, Mang chu township, Mang rdzong (or Guinan) county, Mtsho sngon (Qinghai) province. His father is the leader of their village. Tsebum attributes his consciousness of Tibetan culture to his upbringing, especially the “old people’s never-ending story-telling, my parents’ religious activities and love for me, [and] learning about Tibetan language in school” (7). Several of Tsering Bum’s teachers in the early nineties were deeply committed to Tibetan-language education. In fact, teachers in Amdo are well-known for this commitment, especially through the dark days of the Cultural Revolution when an entire generation was banned from learning their native tongue in the classroom, not to mention anything about their culture. Tsering Bum recounts how one of his teachers would cry when talking about Tibetan history in class.
Tsering Bum values education highly, although his community in general seems to have more ambivalent feelings about modern, secular education. Tsebum was not originally destined to go to school. As the youngest child, he was expected to take over his parents’ farm and to care for them in their old age. But he was a sickly child, and moreover expressed great curiosity to go to school. So his parents allowed him to go. Later he dropped out for a while, but his father was pressured to make him continue his studies, especially as the village leader should set an example for other families. While nine years of education are supposed to be compulsory in China, Tsebum notes that this rule is difficult to enforce, and at that time enforcement was very lax in his region. Also, some villagers questioned the worth of sending their children to school. “Parents wanted their children to have better lives,” Tsebum says, “but colleges were terribly expensive, and few families could afford it. Many parents thought it was better to keep their children at home and teach them to farm and herd” (89). When he told his primary school teacher that he planned to drop out of school because his parents could not live without his support, Tsebum’s teacher lamented, “This is the biggest mistake we Tibetans make!…Without pain now, where will the future glory be!” (62).
The medium of education in Tibetan schools is also not an easy matter to decide. Tsering Bum learned only Tibetan at his first village school. When he transferred to the County Town Primary School after three years, he was behind in Chinese and couldn’t catch up. Science subjects were taught in Chinese, and later in high school Tsebum wrote an essay arguing that schools should teach science in Tibetan. “The answer was very simple,” he said, “Why should science subjects be taught in Chinese when most Tibetans didn’t understand Chinese?” (120). This answer belies the greater debate around Tibetan language and modernity, however. Mandarin Chinese is the lingua franca within China – including the major cities of Tibet – for business, government work, and technology. In order to be competitive in both local and national job markets, Tibetans need to be fluent in Mandarin. Some people see taking the time to learn science in Tibetan as a potential liability later in life. On the other hand, widespread and quality Tibetan-medium instruction in all subjects would certainly contribute to making Tibetan once again a useful, living language at the local level. What remains to be seen is how far government policy would support such initiatives. Such support has been partial and sporadic in the past.
Another route that some Tibetan students, including Tsering Bum, take in order to participate in the global world and economy is to learn English. Tsering Bum received a unique opportunity after high school to attend the English Training Program in Zi ling (Xining) with a full scholarship. English is still a rare skill and medium in Tibetan cities. Tsering Bum recounts that when he was first offered the opportunity to compete for the English study scholarship, the benefits of learning the language were unclear to him and his family. Tsebum’s former dream had been to become a doctor, and some of his teachers counseled him to follow through with this plan. He admits, “To be honest, my desire to study English was not because I liked it, because at that time I didn’t know much about the usefulness of English. It was because it was free and would significantly reduce my family’s burdens” (130). Many young Tibetans are now choosing to spend time and their own money learning English, however. With increasing promotion of international tourism to Tibetan areas, English study is becoming increasingly popular. Often the early decision to study English, coupled with the necessity of learning Chinese, force Tibetan language study into a third-priority position. However, Tsering Bum notes one somewhat surprising result of his English study. Along with English being “a key for me to unlock the gate of global information,” he says, it was during his time in Xining where he came into “contact with many people” that an awareness of his own culture arose and he began “to realize the importance of my own religion, tradition and language” (7, 131).
Religion and village traditions are just as much markers and carriers of Tibetan culture in Tsering Bum’s memoir as language and education, and just as worthy of continuance. He states this during a tale of the almost forced revelry and heavy drinking of Lo gsar (Tibetan New Year). Although “thinking about doing all those things made me very tired,” Tsebum says, “realizing there would also be dancing and archery contests during Losar, I realized that it was also a way to keep our traditions” (87). Rituals, ceremonies and festivals of many sorts permeate life in Tsebum’s village. Klu tshang monastery remains a center of village life, and is one place where Tsebum has an opportunity to continue learning Tibetan language – through private instruction with a monk – after primary school. There is also a Kalachakra (Wheel of Time) Buddhist teaching for a large gathering of Tibetans that Tsebum attends at a very young age. Other rituals are much more local and non-Buddhist in origin, including a blood sacrifice of chickens before an archery contest. Tsebum argues against religion being a form of superstition, however, when he describes the annual la rtse ritual. His father explains, “Putting weapons into the lhatzi [a collection of huge arrows left as offerings by village men to the local mountain deity] means they will not join conflicts and fight in future. They hope to make peace” (35). Upon seeing these abandoned weapons, Tsebum writes, “At that time, I understood that our action was not superstitious, for maybe it would help to prevent misbehavior in the future” (ibid). Even in the face of incredulous and ridiculing neighbors, Tsebum defends the rituals and customs of his village with pride. Other religious and cultural traditions that he describes include prostrating pilgrims, the liberation of livestock, flirtatious songs between men and women, pilgrimage to the mountain Blon po ser chen, divination (for him, to choose the best educational path), chanting ceremonies by monks for healing, and a medium who heals by going into a trance. Tsering Bum’s description of these practices and people provides anecdotal evidence for a wide range of religious activities that continue despite ambivalent government policies towards religion.
The government is a recurring but not overly intrusive presence in Tsering Bum’s account. The largest role the government plays in local affairs is in the mediation of disputes. There are guards enforcing rules at the Kalachakra gathering and representatives sent to end fights between Tsebum’s village and groups of neighboring Muslims and nomads. Tsering Bum’s father is connected to the government as village leader, which should serve as a reminder not to equate “government” with “Chinese.” Furthermore, the mediation of the disputes in each case retains Tibetan character and involvement. In the fight between Tsebum’s village and the nomads, a lama is called in to mediate. In the fight between the village and the group of Muslims, every man and woman from the village stands ready to take matters into their own hands before the non-local government representative arrives (and his presence is welcomed as a way to avoid violence). Other disputes are resolved purely on an interpersonal basis, such as when Tsebum and an older friend go to police their village’s irrigation channels. In the care and punishment of naughty children, every adult from neighbors to monks gets involved. Tsebum’s characterization of these conflicts shows a high degree of agency among the members of his community. Tsering Bum’s memoir is also notable for one thing it lacks: overt praise of the Communist Party and its policies. Such praise has been ubiquitous in other autobiographies written inside of China. Instead, Tsering Bum boldly and simply focuses on Tibetan culture, portraying his community in such a self-contained way that both government and ethnic Chinese presences are reduced to an undercurrent, although an inveterate one.
There is a great deal of social tension revealed through the village disputes, as well as through segregation between “Chinese” and “Tibetan” villages, and the resentment Tsebum describes of Tibetans toward Chinese merchants. As for remembrances of the historical tensions between Chinese and Tibetans, these are limited to a couple of interesting anecdotes. One concerns Ma Bufang, a cruel Chinese warlord who effectively ruled over Amdo during the Guomindang period. Tsebum’s uncle recalls Ma Bufang’s army butchering vultures to the point of extinction, and his grandfather tells the story of forced conscription of entire villages of Tibetan men into this army. Another story from Tsebum’s Uncle concerns the Cultural Revolution, when he was driven by hunger and desperation to eat a baby goat. In both cases, the hardship endured is described merely in terms of hardship itself, not in terms of ethnic tension.
While this orientation partly reflects the political constraints under which Tsering Bum writes, another anecdote is telling as far as his politicism – or lack thereof. One primary school teacher Tsebum remembers particularly for inspiring him to continue with his education. But when this teacher left Tibet (most likely for India, although this is left unstated), Tsering Bum describes the disappointment and “hatred in my heart” he felt for being abandoned. Although eventually he was able to remember this teacher fondly again, it seems clear that Tsebum views working for the betterment of Tibetan life and culture within Tibet as the nobler path. The line he most remembers from this former teacher, tellingly, is “Without pain now, where will the future glory be?” (64).
Tsering Bum’s world is harsh and full of challenges, but his response is to find and recount whatever avenues of agency he can for himself and his community. His memoir is a complex, honest and eminently human portrayal of contemporary Tibetan culture – which is not as stagnant or sinicized as is often assumed. His rich ethnographic portrait of Tibetan life combats essentialized and romanticized stereotypes and shines a beacon of hope for the future of Tibetan culture.
Book reviewed:
Tshe ring ‘bum. A Northeastern Tibetan Childhood (Bod byang shar yul gyi gzhon nu zhig gi lang tsho). 2007.