Losar

Losar in Berlin.

"The problem is it's either human values or money due to this people in Berlin aren ́t happy.
Look at World War 1, 2 both were caused by mistake ideas being spread by unhappy people."
Sonam says in his broken English. Strong words even for someone who has pursued a PhD in
Buddhist Philosophy for 19 years.

I'm at Refugio in Neukolln. Refugio is an organization that ́is dedicated to refugee integration.
Today they've given access of their premises to the Tibetan community of Berlin who are
celebrating the 2146th Losar, the Tibetan New Year. Although the official dates for Losar was
5th to 7th of February, the celebration that happened at Refugio Cafe was scheduled on the 9th,
probably to accommodate everyone's busy schedules and make sure the turnout was good.
Further justifying Sonam ́s apothegm.

Refugio Cafe´s workshops.

"Walk past the second glass doors into the kitchen." is what it said in the Facebook Group Chat
created solely for volunteers for the Tibetan event. Walking in, I find the cafe littered with
people. A group is working on their laptops in the corner while all around them people, some in
traditional Tibetan dresses, talk to each other. An unmanned cafe with a sign on it that says
“Coffee making lessons on the third floor.”.

As I follow the instructions and enter the kitchen I'm greeted by a waft of aromatic spices and
the sight of heaps of chopped vegetables surrounded by a trio, who introduce themselves as
Stuart, Fernando and Max. Before I ́ve even moved on from introducing myself to them, a voice
greets me "Let me guess. Sri Lankan?", reminding me of a fiasco that made my professor go
beetroot red in class(Hi geiritt).

As I explain my ethnicity and where I ́ve grown up, the speaker's already ebullient nature
becomes even more animated.
“Majnu ka Tila, do you know?”

“Yes.” That's the Tibetan neighbourhood of Delhi.

“That is where I lived in before moving to Berlin.”

No surprises there.

As another voice chimes, I see someone garbed in a Signum. Signum ́s are the Tibetan
equivalence of the Lederhosen. It's woven with silk or cotton dress is white with a flashy collar
and sometimes even sleeves; accompanied with brightly coloured sashes it's what most
North-Indians would call a Kurta. He introduces himself as Tashi and his friend as Nannjey, the
cooks for the evening.

Taashi and Nannjey grinning while working on the food.

As Nannjey and Tashi start to extoll the help provided by the Indian Government to the people
of Tibet, the three vegetable choppers burst into laughter. This doesn't go down so well with my
new friends, who feel bereaved at the lack of knowledge about the Tibetan repression.

“What do they know of the Tibetan struggle?” Tashi says to me as an aside in Hindi.
Due to the One China policy and the oppressive nature of the CCP, Tibetan culture or politics
isn ́t known much about in the world. However there are so many Tibetan refugees in India, they
have their own city, their own neighborhoods in metropolises, the largest collection of Buddhist
Monasteries is on Indian Soil, that it is hard to not to end up having a few as friends.

As I quiz him on his history, I found out Tashi belongs to the same district as my high school
mate, Tawang. Tawang located in Arunachal Pradesh is home to the world ́s second biggest
Buddhist Monastery. Arunachal Pradesh is one of the seven sister states that comprise what is
known as North-East. There is still friction amongst the tribes of North-east India. One still needs
a government permit to visit this war-torn, infrastructure-lacking area.

“I'm Nishi.” Nannjey says with obvious pride. As the adage goes you can take the Indian out of
India but you can't take the Indian-ness out of the Indian. Yet, despite being from two different
tribes that are always at each others necks, these two seem to have a deep camaraderie.
Tashi has been working as a cook for almost 15 years now, before which he had a life in India.
Tashi ́s father was from the Mompa tribe of Arunachal and his mother a Tibetan refugee. The
youngest of seven siblings, Taashi doesn't remember much about migrating to Arunachal from
Tibet. My intuitive skills gauge that he doesn't wish to talk about his two departed brothers.
His journey began at the age of 9, being a shepherd to the cows of the villagers of Tezu, which
then progressed to working at a restaurant.

“From there I moved onto washing dishes till my brother who had started training in the army
graduated came and took me to get enrolled in the army too. I was part of the Special Counter
Force, that is where I get my disciplined lifestyle from.” He says while rolling a cigarette.
While the tourism economy of India was booming Tashi became a tour guide, before realizing
Indian cooks were in demand in Germany.

“Cooking is something I enjoy. Plus the perks of the quality of life far outweigh life in India” he
says with a humongous grin on his face.

As Tashi gets called to dance, we leave the kitchen area to watch the program taking place in
the hall. The venue for the evening is a large hall where strings with Tibetan flags placed across
the ceiling. They are supposed to drive out bad luck while essaying in good luck. The walls of
the hall are bedecked with Tibetan embroidery which depict pictures of valleys, monasteries,
deities and insignias. The hall is packed, not just with Tibetans vested in spreading their culture
but with Berliners. On stage a couple strum on mandolins as they sing a song which sounds all
too familiar to me. As they wrap up their song, a Lama gets on stage and starts a speech in
German. After which Tashi and his troupe make their way on to the stage.

Most Tibetan dances are Mandalic, which means there are shapes and patterns involved. The
dancers start by forming a circle while holding hands. The song, which is usually sung by
members of the crowd, is being sung by the couple from the previous performance assisted by
a choir of children and sets the rhythm for the dance. The dancers start by swaying slowly and
keep increasing their pace, never breaking the circle, stomping their feet every now and then
before rushing in and out, forming and reforming intricate patterns all the while.

The first song I walked into evoked a feeling of nostalgia.

As the first dance comes to an end the children get on stage for a group performance of another
song. Which is then followed by another dance this time with children joining in and the singers
who put their mandolins aside.

Spotting the vegetable cutters standing with other volunteers, I make my way to the group who
to my relief are conversing in English. Stuart says “Although this is fun, we feel left out as the
speakers are addressing the crowd in German.” Max adds in “It would be more enjoyable if we
knew what the theme of the songs and dances were.”

A few of the other volunteers mirror their thoughts either by nodding their heads or adding in.

“I just love Asian food and as soon as I hear there would be free food I just rushed to get here.”
Agatha says. If you haven't dined before with the Pahadi(People from mountainous regions;
pahad means mountain in Hindi) people of the Indian subcontinent, you should. Their appetite is
herculean.People end up getting the best of both quality and quantity. They seemed to have
cooked thinking everyone is as edacious as them.

The food, cooked by Tashi and Nannjey, was fabulously mouth watering. People started to
queue long before we had even started to serve, not that I blame them. The menu consisted of
Palak Paneer( which is spinach blanched and fried in cottage cheese), Chicken Curry, an
assortment of pickles and salad, accompanied with Rice and Tingmo. Tingmo is a bread
indigenous to Bhutan, and unfortunately looks like a dim-sum or momo. Being part of the
volunteers responsible for food service I spent most of my evening explaining to people what
they thought was dim-sum was, in fact, not.

Scrumptious food being devoured by the attendees.

As I make an escape from the group that now started to quiz me on my culinary skills I come
across Nepali-Tibetan Dundup Tsering. Tsering, who first came to Germany to learn Berlin,
ended up falling in love and eventually marrying his wife before opening his Himalayan shop.
"I ́ve been in Berlin since 2004 but only the past three Losars were celebrated. Refugio gave us
the opportunity to use this hall, free of cost. Ricarda, Sonam ́s wife, had connections to get
access to this hall. This is the third time we've organized a celebration for the Tibetan new year
in Berlin. The first two times were in an organization for blind people and a church respectively.”
With there being only 60 Tibetans in Berlin, it's a tight knit community with everyone
participating in events. “We ́ve organized charities in the past. For example, when a Tibetan lost
his arm we held a charity event for him and almost 400 people showed up. Much more than any
of the New Year ́s celebrations of ours. “

Taashi´s living room is adorned with pictures of the Dalai Lama and Buddhist symbols.

On being asked why there are no Tibetan cultural centres or programs to learn the language or
the music or the dancing Tsering says "Berliners aren't interested in that, they want to learn
about Buddhism not about our culture. No one asks us to teach them the language, the
scripture, or our songs, dances and folktales. People are more interested in the teachings of the
Dalai Lama and Buddha, and Tibetan Buddhism.”

Which brings us back to didactic Sonam. Sonam moved to Berlin in 2017 from India, after giving
up his monk-hood and getting married. Now he teaches Tibetan language to the children of
Berliners on Sunday at Refugio Cafe, while filling the rest of the days of the week teaching
Buddhist Philosophy at various centres in Berlin. A self claimed proponent of happiness Sonam
has some strong views. I soon find out the modern Western lifestyle is Sonam ́s anathema.

“Earlier life was easy, I only had to feed the one mouth, but now I have a wife and a child.
That ́s two more mouths I have to have to think about now. That is why I moved to Berlin with
my wife Ricarda.”

“The problem isn ́t in the education or the German economy; but mental illness. People create
ideas. These mistaken, wrong ideas which leads to these unhappy people. They are only talking
and doing, no listening. There's not enough empathy. The system here could learn a lot from
Buddhism.”

Charlie Chaplin's words come to mind “More than cleverness, we need kindness and
gentleness.”.

I realize all of this resonates with what we are being taught at college. Reflective thinking and
constructive journalism. Making me wish I hadn't submitted my podcast on Mental Health
Awareness before doing this.

Despite his earlier denigration, Sonam has some sweet thoughts about Berlin. “People here in
Berlin love to learn. It ́s a great honour for me to be in Berlin and people here have good
tolerance and respect for other cultures. Not many nations have been so accommodating to
Tibetans.” Are Sonam ́s last few words to me as his wife whisks him away to dance.