I remember 9/11. I was in Chamdo, the old capital of Kham.. The other women in my group were getting a head massage and a hair cut, and I didn’t want one. I saw what I thought was a sick video of the New York World Trade Center burning up. Some very ugly propaganda. I went out in the street for fresh air. As I walked along, two Tibetan women whom I had never met came up to me and gently held my hand for a moment or two, said something gentle to me in Tibetan, and then walked on. I smiled at them; it was nice of them, but I was a little confused by it. A little farther on, our driver found me and led me into a little canteen. I sat with the others at a round table, facing the television screen, which was showing the news and discussing it in Tibetan. Again I saw the World Trade Center burning, and an airplane crashing into the other tower. Slowly it dawned on me that this was a real news report, and tears started streaming down my face before I realized what I was reacting to. I had worked in that building the summer between my second and third year of law school.
The tears kept coming. One of the tourists in my group seemed to be criticizing my lack of self control. Two long skirts drew up chairs on either side of me, as if to protect me. Somebody put a glass of plain tea into my hand. I drank the tea. It warmed my hand and made it stop shaking so much. The tears kept coming. The others may have eaten something. I just kept drinking tea. I don’t think I looked up again the whole evening. I never even glanced at the faces of those kind people wearing Tibetan women’s skirts. One brown skirted woman stayed next to me until we all left the little canteen. I think it was our driver who led me to a room where I was to sleep the night. The tears kept coming. That was all I knew until I fell asleep.
I was better the next morning, but I will never forget those brown skirted people who had held my hand and the brown skirted person who later on sat next to me as I drank glass after glass of tea. Compassion at work is completely different from compassion as mere aspiration. I learned that in Chamdo. I am indebted to those people, showing a stranger such kindness.
