Seattle Tibetans Unified Through Covid-19

Written by: Jamyang Dorjee

Sonam Nyatsatsang sings a group song with board members at the Tibetan community New Year’s party at Northgate College.
Photos: Kurt Smith, Tibetan Association of Washington

When the 250 members of Seattle’s Tibetan community gathered Feb. 29 for their annual Tibetan New Year’s party called Losar, the phrase “social distancing” was virtually unknown.

Face masks were for Halloween, and washing hands was mostly a morning hygiene ritual accompanied by brushing one’s teeth.

Tibetan community members gathered at Sakya Monastery on the first day of Losar, the Tibetan New Year.

Losar is the biggest occasion on the Tibetan calendar, often celebrated for two weeks to a month. Organized by the Tibetan Association of Washington, the Seattle holiday had started earlier that week with community prayers at Sakya Monastery in Seattle, with Tibetans dressed in fine traditional garments called chubas. By Feb. 29 they were moving on to a rented facility at NorthGate College, also in Seattle.

But behind the scenes awareness of the developing COVID-19 epidemic in China was rapidly growing, including among Seattle-area Tibetan doctors closely monitoring developments in China.

Dr. Sonam Nyatsatsang, a physician at Swedish Medical Center and a Tibetan Association of Washington board member, was in charge of drinks for the party. But in the back of his mind he was weighing bringing up Covid-19 at the celebration. Wanting to be sensitive to the celebratory mood, he was having second thoughts about introducing topics like disease and basic hygiene.

As the pandemic developed over subsequent months, Tenzin Topchen, a Boeing engineer and newly elected president of the Tibetan Association of Washington, realized he and his team of youthful board members had a challenge on their hands.

Chemi Chekal and her children preparing to offer respects before the altar at Sakya Monastery for Losar.

Deep cultural and ethnic connections within the Tibetan community meant Topchen and his team had special responsibilities for the welfare of more than 350 Tibetan community members. Community members are vulnerable in many ways, with many of them working in the service industry, others in health care. The community also includes a group of elders.  

Topchen says overall it hadn’t been too bad, and impacts on Tibetan people have been mostly financial.

He knows of several families whose members have been furloughed or laid off from their jobs. Some hit financially were Uber and Lyfte drivers who lost fares, while others had to close down shops.

The small community of Tibetan elders has had to make many adjustments. Tibetans typically live in close-knit, multi-generational home structures, where older retired people take care of younger grandchildren while the children’s parents go off to work. The working parents in turn take care of their own retired fathers and mothers.

But social distancing guidance from state health experts, due to the increased vulnerability to the virus of the older generation, made it hard for the generations to take care of each other. Suddenly they were faced with hidden threats in the simplest acts of family closeness, hugs, shared meals, or time spent together praying as a family.

Khenpo Jampa Rinpoche of Sakya Monastery praying, in a screenshot of the  monthly Tibetan community prayer session, now on Zoom.

The association has focused on improving awareness and education through regular emails and social media posts to the community,  sharing guidance about the virus from local health government and public health agencies. 

In May board members spent time calling around and checking with Tibetan community members to see if there were Tibetan elders who needed help with basic tasks like grocery shopping. They didn’t find any takers, which Topchen attributes to the care that elders already were receiving from their close multi-generational families.

As another source of help the Tibetan Association received a $1,200 grant, through a partnership with the South Asian community organization UTSAV, for distributing food to families impacted by the pandemic. 

Topchen is particularly pleased with a weekly YouTube series about COVID-19 that his team created with Nyatsatsang, the physician. The videos included questions from the Tibetan community, with Nyatsatsang answering in Tibetan.

Khenpo Jampa Rinpoche turns a prayer wheel, also on Zoom.

The videos were shared on the association’s Facebook page, and Topchen saw good engagement and received positive feedback. The videos also were shared with larger Tibetan communities worldwide including in New York City, where Tibetans were hit quite hard due to their sizeable older population.  

As an active community member of the association, Nyatsatsang was as usual glad for opportunities to help, although this also increased his own risk for the disease.

Nyatsatsang’s world went into overdrive after the virus outbreak. In addition to his day job at Swedish he volunteered with the Tibetan Allopathic Physicians Network, The Central Tibetan Administration Department of Health, and others. He was happy and eager to help, as always.

But unknown to him at the time, the long hours were taking a toll on his body. About a month into the pandemic Nyatsatsang fell ill. He felt chills at work and was unusually tired on a Friday evening while driving home. The next Monday, after recovering over the weekend, he felt feverish with a headache and promptly drove to the Swedish Medical Center emergency room.

Tenzin Topchen, president of Tibetan Association of Washington, with his team of newly-elected board members.

Aware of the negative social stigma about disease in Asian communities, Nyatsatsang waited until May 10 to tell family and friends he had contracted COVID-19 and was on the path to recovery. By the end of the month he had recovered enough to go for a short hike with his family. 

Meanwhile the association has been responding flexibly to new needs created by the virus, for instance by re-starting on Zoom Tibetan community prayer sessions, which previously were done in person at Sakya Monastery. Weekly Tibetan language and culture lessons for the community’s children also have been moved to Zoom. 

Looking farther afield, the community has been able to watch online video teachings by His Holiness the Dalai Lama, live from his residence in Dharamsala, India.

Despite the difficulties, Topchen feels the community has taken the pandemic in stride. “Our Buddhist outlook and attitude towards the impermanence of things gives us I think a slight psychological advantage of knowing that this too shall pass,” Topchen said. “As refugees and immigrants, our community members have seen a lot and been through more. This changes how one views life and how we live it.

A community member participating in a monthly prayer session, on Zoom.

“There is an acceptance that life throws challenges at you, and you learn to make adjustments to be able to move on,” he said. “You don’t just take things for granted, even life.” 

Topchen said his Buddhist upbringing has taught him to have a less individualistic mindset, and therefore to think about the collective and the greater good.

“This attitude of thinking beyond yourself, that it’s not just me and that everyone else around the world is dealing with the same, makes it easier to understand,” he said. “The alternative just puts more pressure on yourself and leads to more stress.”

He adds that losing simple things like going out to eat and hanging out with friends…makes you truly appreciate all the little things in life. He said the losses include “Talking to friends and family without observing social distancing, things we take for granted and now miss.”  

Nyatsatsang said he remains glad about his opportunity to alleviate human suffering, and is happy he could respond.

“I strongly believe in Tonglen,” Nyatsatsang said, referring to the Tibetan Buddhist practice of breathing in the suffering and pain of others, while breathing back healing.

Cultivating awareness while going through his own COVID-19 suffering, by absorbing the suffering of others and transforming that to generate compassion, gave him peace of mind, Nyatsatsang said. These are mindful words from a medical doctor.

 

0

SHARES

Share

Posted Under: 2020, Sangha News, Summer

About the Author: Jamyang Dorjee

Jamyang Dorjee is a Tibetan Buddhist living in Bothell, Washington, with his wife and two children. He is a former president and board member of the Tibetan Association of Washington. He also serves on the board of Leadership Snohomish County, and writes regularly for Northwest Dharma News. 

Tibetan Association of Washington Prepares
For 25 anniversary of TibetFest in Seattle

Written by: Jamyang Dorjee

Children from the Tibetan Language and Culture School sing the Star Spangled Banner to open the event.
Photos by Kurt Smith

TibetFest will celebrate its 25^th anniversary with a traditional dance performance of the assassination of a ninth century Tibetan emperor by a Buddhist monk.

While the theme may seem a bit grim for a family-friendly event at the Seattle Center, it reflects how strongly Tibetans feel about protecting their Buddhist heritage.

In the ninth century Buddhism was in danger endangered after Tibetan Emperor Lang Darma ordered monasteries closed, and monastics to disrobe. In response tantric monk Lhalung Dorje decided to defend the Dharma by planning to assassinate the emperor.

Artist Tamdin Tsetan singing and Lobsang Gyaltsen on the flute.

This sacred dance will be one of several special performances during the Aug. 22-23 TibetFest weekend for 2020.

The weekend event also will feature avant-garde art from some very contemporary young Tibetan artists, reflecting Tibetans’ evolving expression of their cultural heritage in the 21^st century.

TibetFest is organized by the Tibetan Association of Washington, and is one of a series of ethnic diversity events hosted by the city of Seattle every year at the Seattle Center, through the center’s Festal initiative. TibetFest, and other ethnic festivals throughout the year, reflect the city’s openness to sharing and celebrating the community’s diverse cultures.

The Seattle Center is a downtown campus of buildings, lawns and gardens that were once the site of the 1962 World’s Fair.

For the region’s growing Tibetan community, while celebrating 25 years of TibetFest is a noteworthy accomplishment, it’s also a reminder that they’ve been living in exile for 60 years. For many it brings a subtle but significant acceptance that this is not only their community in exile, but their new home.

Former artists from the Tibetan Institute of Performing Arts share a Tibetan opera.

“For Tibetans most of us are in exile, holding onto the culture we’ve inherited from our elders and being so far removed from the land of our ancestors,” said Tenzin Tsomo, one of the event organizers. For Tibetans, their culture and Buddhist heritages are virtually inseparable.

While the Tibetan Association of Washington has made great strides to use the event as an anchor to preserve Tibetan culture and the arts, input from the younger generation in the organizing process also has shifted the direction toward exploration and growth.

“As we move forward, spaces like TibetFest give us a reason to come together to share our heritage,” Tsomo said. “We also can engage with contemporary arts and create a platform where we can witness our culture evolve, participate actively, and network with other Tibetans.”

At the same time TibetFest is facing financial and other challenges as it moves toward a quarter century of events.

Kelsang Amney fixing up a traditional Tibetan costume on a mannequin.

“There is currently a big void when it comes to a comprehensive event for Tibetan arts, but there is also a lack of funding and accessibility of Tibetan art to the community,” said Sonam Nyatsatsang, a former association board member, and producer of the last two TibetFests.

Because the event is free, organizers have fewer opportunities to raise funds for the festival. A handful of grants have been key, but haven’t supplied enough to create more programs and to utilize the potential of the Seattle Center resources.

Founded in 1989, the Tibetan Association of Washington represents the Tibetan community in the Puget Sound region. Through good luck and sheer will, the leaders of the Tibetan Association got TibetFest brought under the Festal umbrella during the 1990s.

“The fact that we as a stateless community have so generously received this honor of hosting and being a part of Festal by Seattle Center in not lost on us.” said Tsomo. “This is what makes our (Seattle) community so great.”

Artist Tamdin leading a free Tibetan calligraphy workshop.

Twenty five years ago the intention of the festival organizers was primarily to preserve ancient Tibetan cultural traditions through dance and performances. The organizers then worked to market the event by playing to its exotic and uniqueness.

The festival is run by an all-volunteer team from the Tibetan community. The organizers hope to make TibetFest 2020 special, as the event’s silver jubilee.

A notable shift toward embracing contemporary creative expression beyond traditional Tibetan song, dance and art reflects the Tibetan Association’s maturity, and the fact that culture is not stagnant. This year international contemporary Tibetan artists from Belgium and elsewhere are expected.

As a younger generation has become involved, a concerted effort is being made to demystify Tibet by including open panel discussions, photo exhibitions and contemporary arts. Organizers have identified this as an opportunity to peel off layers of commonly held misconceptions about Tibetans and Tibetan Buddhists. 

Lama Migmar leading a thangka painting workshop.

“These voices challenge visitors’ perceptions of Tibet and Tibetans,” said Tsomo “They get a chance to enjoy both the traditional and the contemporary in our arts.”

Last year this started when contemporary Tibetan artist Tenzin Dolma was invited to show her work.

For 2020 new artists will include Rinchen Dolma and Tenzin Chimme, founders of  Made in Exile. This is a youth-led initiative that creates workshops and theatrical performances that support young Tibetans in exploring their identity and in engaging with their community.

For 2020 they’re planning multiple entertainment performances, panel discussions and more workshops.

For instance Lama Migmar, a Tibetan Buddhist monk from the Sakya Monastery in Seattle, also an accomplished sculptor and thangka painter, will offer thankga painting workshops and quick meditation sessions during the two-day festival.

Visitors at the photo exhibition.

Born in eastern Tibet in Kham, Migmar studied at Kegyu Monastery, the largest and oldest Sakya Monastery there. His work is featured in Kagyu, Nyingma and Sakya monasteries throughout Kham. After living in Nepal, India and Malaysia creating an extensive array of thangkas, in 2006 he joined Sakya Monastery as resident artist.

Organizers have increased their sophistication in planning TibetFest, building the festival around the five human senses of sight, sound, smell, taste and touch. This strategy will bring sensory enjoyment to those attending, while maintaining the goal of preserving and promoting Tibetan art and culture.

For instance people will experience smell, taste and touch through a Tibetan food booth selling delicious Tibetan steamed dumplings called “momo,” a favorite of all Tibetans. They’re so popular they almost always sell out.

Tenzin Chodon performing Raylpa, an acrobatic Tibetan drum dance.

For sight and sound a number of traditional cultural performances will showcase the ethnic richness of Tibet’s heritage. For colors and touch there’s a Himalayan bazaar: a one-stop shopping experience to load up on Buddhist ritual paraphernalia, Tibetan fashion, jewelry and trinkets.

Depending on funding, they may fulfill an ambitious plan to bring a full Tibetan opera troupe to perform at the outdoors Seattle Center amphitheater.

“The Tibetan art community is still very young.” said former board member Nyatsatsang.

“With funding any effective program or platform will help nurture and expand this very important community of free-expression enterprise.”

Nyatsatsang and Tsomo share a vision of making TibetFest a platform for upcoming Tibetan artists, and a venue for established artists to introduce their new works.

“It’s an annual destination for Tibetan arts, shows and exhibitions in North America,” Nyatsatsang optimistically beams.

0

SHARES

Share

Posted Under: 2019, Sangha News, Winter

About the Author: Jamyang Dorjee

Jamyang Dorjee is a Tibetan Buddhist living in Bothell, Wash., with his wife and two children. He is a former president and board member of the Tibetan Association of Washington. He also sits on the Everett School Board and writes regularly for Northwest Dharma News.

Nalanda West Brings Tibetan Thangka Painting Master, to Teach and Create in Seattle

Written by: Jamyang Dorjee

Tibetan thangka painter R.D. Salga is known for his precise hand work, and for his adherence to the rigorous structure of the sacred art form. 
Photos by: Nalanda faculty, Dolkar Nhangkar, Steve Wilhelm

Renowned Tibetan painter R.D. Salga has arrived to teach people the ancient tradition of creating Tibetan deities on cloth, called thangka painting, at Nalanda West in Seattle.

Nalanda, named after the former paramount Buddhist monastic university of ancient India, is bringing this similarly ancient thangka painting tradition to the Pacific Northwest.

In October Nalanda West and Salga opened his studios to the public, an opportunity for people to meet the artist and to see some of his work.

A display of some of Thangka painter Salga’s work in the studio at Nalanda West.

It was here in his new studio, in a small house behind Nalanda West, that I met Salga. His diminutive stature and quiet expression belie his encyclopedic knowledge of the sacred art of Tibetan thangka painting. His presence is so impressive I was moved to address him as “Salga la,” a Tibetan honorific of respect and veneration.

Salga, in this case Salga la, will over three years teach about the role of thangka painting in Tibetan Buddhism. He will share the art form’s history, purpose and symbolism, as well as teaching people how to draw and paint thangkas.

Thangka paintings are Tibetan Buddhist scroll paintings, often depicting Buddhas, Buddhist deities or mandalas. This type of religious art adorns the walls of many Tibetan monasteries and Tibetan Buddhist homes.

Thangka paintings serve as aids to teaching and practice, as each detail portrayed has deep meaning and refers to part of the Buddhist philosophy.

For example, to do Tara puja meditation it is important the practitioner know what the goddess Tara looks like, to be able to visualize Tara. The practitioner usually begins by looking at an image of Tara on a thangka. Practitioners similarly use thangkas to visualize other deities and important figures including Chenrezig, Guru Rinpoche or Milarepa.

Painter Salga explaining the meaning of some of the detailed art in a Thangka painting to reporter Jamyang Dorjee.

Founded by Dzogchen Ponlop Rinpoche in 2004, Seattle’s Nalanda West offers programs and events inspired by fields of knowledge originally taught at the ancient Nalanda University, which thrived in India between the 5^th and 13^th centuries. The Seattle event center is mostly volunteer-run by Nalandabodhi, a Buddhist community under the direction of Ponlop Rinpoche.

“It was Rinpoche’s wish and vision, so that the Karma Gardri tradition is not lost and continues to live, that I come to Nalanda and teach it in the West,” said Salga, referring to the school of thangka painting he teaches.

Two main schools of painting dominate Tibetan thangka painting: The Menri style and the lesser-known Karma Gadri style. Salga was trained in the Karma Gadri school.

“The last time I was here…I spent about three weeks…did a small presentation on the Karma Gadri school of painting and the relevance of thangkas to Tibetan Buddhism.” Salga said. “Rinpoche spoke about the urgency and importance of saving the tradition, and talked about myself coming back again and staying a little longer the next time to teach.”

November visitors at the grand opening of Salga’s studio, admiring the paintings.

Few Buddhist centers anywhere in the world can boast of a thangka art class offering. The thangkas hanging at Nalanda West have been painted by master Salga. Patrons will have the opportunity to see his work, observe him in action, attend his classes, and learn from his workshops. Nalanda West hopes to offer different levels of classes, including higher levels if there is enough interest and participation.

“Salga la is indeed a wealth of knowledge and one of the few remaining keepers of the Karma Gadri school. We’re hoping we’ll receive some feedback from this story that will guide what path we take in regards to exploring this rare and valuable opportunity here at Nalanda,” said Damayonti Sengupta, general manager at Nalanda West.

Salga’s early years of training in Buddhism, and in thangka painting, came from his association with Rumtek Monastery, and from growing up in the nearby city of Gangtok, capital of Sikkim.

Perched high on a Himalayan hilltop, the impressive Rumtek is the seat of the Karmapa. The latter is the head of the Karma Kagyu order of Tibetan Buddhism, and thus Tibet’s second-highest lama only after the Dalai Lama.

Salga’s rigorous training came from the esteemed Tashi Gyamtso, who was one of the most famous and accomplished artists from the Karma Kagyu lineage. Gyamtso came from Tibet with the 16th Karmapa.

Salga La giving a brief tour of his art work and studio to reporter Dorjee.

It is Tashi Gyamtso’s work that adorns the hallowed walls of Rumtek Monastery. Tashi Gyamtso died in 1980. Many thangkas painted by Salga also are featured in and around Rumtek.

Thangka painting is a centuries-old tradition kept alive mostly by the Tibetan government in exile, through apprenticeships and training programs in Dharamsala, India.

“While there are efforts to keep the tradition alive,” Salga said, “The challenge often is finding accomplished and knowledgeable teachers.”

Once a rather comfortable and respectful skill in Tibet, thangka painting no longer holds enough value and economic benefits to attract others to the trade.

One of the reasons for this decline is the years of serious study and practice required to master the art. Unlike most art thangka painting is not a product of an artist’s imagination, but is rather a carefully executed production based on a series of blueprint drawings with specific guidelines that must be diligently adhered to. It is a labor of worship that takes a really, really long time to perfect.

A contemplative Salga.

The intricate and detailed work required requires serious discipline, focus and concentration. Each deity is based on geometric measurements that are accurate, researched, and written in ancient manuscripts. This measurement and accuracy carry great symbolic importance, as do the colors, the position of the body and hands, and any instruments in the deity’s hands.

China’s invasion of Tibet in the 1950s, and the subsequent destruction of a lot of old Tibetan traditions and monasteries, makes it even more important to keep this beautiful and ancient thangka-painting tradition alive.

“This is part of our cultural heritage, and losing that art will be losing part of our history,” said Jampa Jorkhang, president of the Tibetan Association of Washington.

When asked about his own vision, Salga said, “I’ve been drawing thangkas for years now so my hope is that I be able to pass down this skill to others.”

“The encouraging thing here in the West is that there are definitely people here who are interested in learning the art,” he said. “They are smart and eager to learn so they seem to pick up things quicker.”

Salga hopes that at the very least, people understand what thangkas are about and will get interested in them and want to learn the art.

Nalanda Group from left to right: Fitri Junoes, Julia Linderova, Salga, Damayonti Sengupta, Stephanie Johnston.

“A thangka painting is not simply a decoration or a creation of beauty, but a religious object and a medium for expressing Buddhist ideals, so that the practitioner can reflect and meditate,” he said. “Even to my students in Nepal, I tell them that it is important to have the right mindset and the correct motivation when drawing a thangka. The better the effort and purer the motivation, the more precious the thangka.”

But he adds that he understands that economic pressures, and the need to survive, mean that many feel they can’t continue dedicating themselves to the art.

When he first started learning many years ago as a child he was part of a group of 40 monks, Salga said. But slowly through the years almost all of them had dropped off and given up, to follow other more lucrative business opportunities. Now just he, and another person who paints occasionally, still carry the torch from the original 40.

Not all thangkas are painted. In Tibet some religious ceremonies and festivals are based on the unveiling of giant hand-woven cloth thangkas. These woven thangkas are often more than 150 feet tall and about feet wide, and are unfurled down walls of monasteries, cliffs, or steep mountain sides.

To understand the depth of an accomplished thangka artist like Salga la, ponder this: The next time you look at a thangka, no matter how intricate and exquisite, chances are the entire creation was painted from memory. Another point is that a thangka painter never signs a thangka painting. This would be considered an act of desecration, not true to the Buddhist principles of non-attachment and letting go of ego.

If you’re interested in contacting Salga to offer a guest lecture, please email at info@nalandawest.org.

In Historic First, 20 Nuns Pass Doctorate Exams Seattle Nonprofit Plays Key Support RoleA moment of joy during the rigorous geshema exams.Nuns about to enter the geshema exams. A total of 44 nuns from nunneries in India and Nepal took various levels of their exams in May. All passed.

In Historic First, 20 Nuns Pass Doctorate Exams 
Seattle Nonprofit Plays Key Support Role

Nuns debating in front of the geshema examiners. The geshema examination process is an extremely rigorous one that takes four years, with one round per year each May.
Photos: Courtesy of Tibetan Nuns Project

Twenty Tibetan Buddhist nuns recently succeeded in earning  the equivalent of doctorate degrees, the first Himalayan-born women in their tradition to do so.

Their achievement, a momentous advance for women within Tibetan Buddhism, might not have happened without support from Tibetan Nuns Project, a non-profit with offices in Seattle and in India.

The debate or oral examination is an important part of the geshema exams. The nuns are examined on the entirety of their 17-year course of study of the Five Great Canonical Texts.

Seven of the 20 nuns have been directly supported by Tibetan Nuns Project, during their 17-year scholastic journey. The organization, also known as TNP, has been broadly supportive of nuns receiving better educations than has traditionally been the case.

What’s called a “geshema” degree will be formally conferred to the 20 nuns in December, by the Dalai Lama at a special ceremony at Drepung Monastery in India.

As geshemas  the 20 nuns will then be equal to male geshes, the doctorate-level monks who have traditionally maintained the scholastic standards and traditions of the Gelugpa school of Tibetan Buddhism. Monastics have to study for up to 20 years, to be prepared to pass the arduous four years of examinations.

While the individual accomplishments are admirable, the social implications for the Tibetan community is massive. In addition to the usual reverence the monks and nuns typically receive from the community, a Geshema degree will give the nuns public recognition for their achievement and knowledge of Buddhist teachings. This will in turn inspire people’s faith in the nuns as equally qualified as males, to be teachers and masters of the Buddhist texts.

One of the 20 senior nuns taking her fourth and final set of geshema exams in May. During the 12-day exam period, the nuns must take both oral (debate) and written exams. The examiners watch as the seated nun takes part in a debate with a standing nun.

This status potentially will accord them a level of influence much like the high male lamas, where they will be able to attract their own followings and thus patron donors for their nunneries.

Their success fulfills a long-standing wish of the Dalai Lama, and marks a new chapter in the education for ordained Buddhist women.

The nuns’ accomplishment, a major accomplishment for Tibetan women, also is a proud moment for Tibetan Nuns Project, as supporting education was one of the primary goals of the founders.

In addition to the seven Tibetan Nuns Project graduates in 2016, another 17 TNP nuns are expected to win geshema degrees over the next two years.

“Their perseverance is phenomenal,” said Lisa Farmer, executive director of Tibetan Nuns Project, about the nuns’ efforts to win geshema degrees. “The nuns have really led that…They came to us and led the charge, and we’ve just been fortunate as supporters and advocates of their energy and movement.”

Four nuns watch as other candidates debate as part of their oral examinations.

In the spring of 2012, the Tibetan Government in Exile’s Department of Religion and Culture decided to allow Tibetan nuns for the first time to take the examinations to obtain the geshema degree.

The roots of the geshe and geshema degrees can be traced back to the ancient learning center of Nalanda University in India.

Created in 1987,  Tibetan Nuns Project is a nonprofit organization that raises and coordinates funding to support more than 700 nuns in eight nunneries in India.  The largest of the nunneries are Dolma Ling and the Shugsep Ling.

A moment of joy during the rigorous geshema exams.

The organization supports nuns via a combination of individual sponsorships and funding for the nunneries’ buildings and programs. Despite the small size of the Seattle office, it does most of the heavy lifting in terms of outreach and fund-raising for the nunneries. Sponsorship support comes from around the world, most of it from the U.S. It is fitting that the organization’s Seattle office’s executive director has a strong sense of feminism, and  a master’s degree in education.

“The focus on education, and a program looking to empower women and self-sufficiency,” were among the primary reasons why Farmer took the job as executive director four years ago, she said.

Farmer said she’s proud to work in a place “Where the people themselves and their work are more powerful than the organization.”

The completion of the exams this year was only the latest in a series of tests. Each spring for four consecutive years, starting in the spring of 2013, the nuns were required to take two weeks of written and verbal examinations.

As they faced the exams the nuns had to rely on their 17-year study of Buddhists texts, and their own realization, to pass the examinations. The testing included a series of dramatic debates during which they were challenged by some of the most learned monastic teachers.

The nuns’ achievement is particularly remarkable given that many of the nuns were illiterate, and could not even write their names, when they escaped Tibet in the late 1980s.

Nuns about to enter the geshema exams. A total of 44 nuns from nunneries in India and Nepal took various levels of their exams in May. All passed.

Many of the women arrived in India without any money or possessions, after long, arduous and dangerous journeys over the Himalayan Mountains. Some of them had been imprisoned and tortured in Tibet by the Chinese.

Ven. Tenzin, one of the nuns sponsored through TNP, came from central Tibet and now lives and studies in Dolma Ling Nunnery.

In Tibet Tenzin and her six siblings helped care for their family’s animals and fields, which required that she leave school at age 12. Determined to become a nun and pursue Buddhist studies, like many before her she escaped from Tibet across the Himalayas, hiding during the day to evade capture, and walking at night for 26 days. Little did she know what she would end up accomplishing in exile.

Receiving their geshema degrees will place the nuns in leadership roles, in monastic and lay communities typically dominated by their male counterparts.

In Tibetan Buddhist debate, the challenger uses her right hand to raise up her prayer beads around her left arm. This represents the fulfillment of the efforts of compassion, in lifting up all suffering beings out of the round of rebirth.

This will be a significant change because in the hierarchy of the typical Tibetan gathering, religious or not, male lamas and monks typically assume a leadership role. They either are the main guests, they are seated in the main area, or they are accorded the most reverence and thus command the audience’s attention.

Tibetans are used to seeing a male monk or lama at the head of the table, and accustomed for those males to speak or preach to them.

The Geshema degrees will give nuns similar leadership roles of in the community. In turn this means the nuns will bring a fresh perspective, a woman’s perspective, to their discourses.

His Holiness the Dalai Lama has often been quoted saying that scientific research indicates women are more warm-hearted than men, with more sensitivity and concern for others. He adds that kindness and warm-heartedness are going to be the key factors molding the future of the world.

He has even shocked the world by suggesting a possible female Dalai Lama.

The Dalai Lama has long advocated for the inclusion and importance of a role for women in all seats of Buddhism.

Medication over Medication: An Alternative Approach to Military Healing

Meditation over Medication: 
An Alternative Approach to Military Healing

Written by: Jamyang Dorjee

Vernon Vernon Kellnhofer, an 18-year veteran, found meditation a creative way to work with the traumas of his service in war zones.
Photos: Courtesy Joint Base Lewis-Mchord.

Soldiers Vernon Kellnhofer and Maria Guzman both deployed to Iraq, and both came back missing something inside.

And both found resolution, and a way forward, by turning within through meditation.

Born in El Salvador, Guzman found her way into Joint Base Lewis-McChord Buddhist services “looking for peace,” she says.

The altar at the Thursday evening Buddhist practice session at JBLM.

Guzman had deployed to Iraq in 2009, where she set up mobile hospitals, and where reality was often raw and painful.

“I saw things, as a human being it’s not normal to see such things except maybe in movies,” she said. “But this is real and though it’s not my fault, I can’t help but feel helpless. It’s difficult to get over all that.”

With an emptiness in her heart she had no answer for, Guzman said that when returned she found that people often were pretending to listen to her, but not really hearing.

She turned to meditation as a way to cope with anger that kept arising, and that wasn’t fixed, but just tamped down, by medication.

“With meditation I don’t feel the anger,” she said. “I realize I need to work with myself first.”

While she was brought up in the Catholic Church, she said that the Buddhist meditation group became her sanctuary.

“In the church I didn’t feel comfortable because of what I wore and how I looked. I wear sweatpants and stuff and pretty much kept to myself. It’s who I am,” she said. “So I went looking for something else.”

Kellnhofer’s story is in a way similar, of a person who saw too much during combat, and who now is using the same bravery that sustained him, to find an inner and sustainable way to cope with the trauma.

A fleet of Chinook helicopters, here in a rescue exercise, is based at JBLM.

Kellnhofer in his military uniform

Kellnhofer, 5’ 9” and 190 pounds of muscle, is clean-shaven, tough and imposing, looking every bit the soldier he is.

As an 18-year veteran of the U.S, Army, Kellnhofer is a non-commissioned officer at Joint Base Lewis-McChord who is an expert in some of the deadliest tools of war. Technically he’s a CBRN, which stands for “Chemical Biological Radiological and Nuclear.”

What this means is that Kellnhofer trains National Guard Reserve soldiers how to detect when they are under a biological or chemical attack, and to protect themselves and treat any victims. This is heavy stuff, which wears on a person.

Deployed three times to Iraq, like most soldiers Kellnhofer suffered from the physical and emotional trauma of his work and environment. Mental stress and post traumatic stress disorder followed, and led him predictably into the world of medication for treatment.

But as a practical and creative man, Kellnhofer thought there had to be a better way than just depending on medication, and so he set himself a goal to find it.

Kellnhofer recalled reading about meditation and the concepts and practices of Buddhism on the internet. He began meditating on his own a little and noticed how it helped him.

That latent interest in meditation…fueled by a recent stint of active duty in Korea this past March..brought Kellnhofer back from his wanderings wondering.

His curiosity led him to explore the chaplaincy page of the JBLM website, to his surprise saw a Buddhist service.

He showed up…a bit nervous, not knowing what to expect. Born and raised Catholic, it was a wandering of a different kind.

Joint Base Lewis-McChord, commonly referred to as JBLM, is home to one of the largest “Religious Support Organizations” in the United States Army, with almost 95 Unit Ministry Teams stationed at Lewis Main, Lewis North and McChord Field.

The JBLM Chaplain oversees and operates nine chapels, and performs and provides a variety of religious services for the soldiers and airmen stationed at the base. Sermons range from liturgical, traditional, gospel and contemporary, and the teams offer Jewish, Islam, Buddhist and Wiccan services.

In a stark room bare of anything but a little statue of the Buddha, the small JBLM Buddhist sangha gathers every Thursday evening at 5:45PM.

Ann Tjhung, an ordained Zen Buddhist priest, leads the Buddhist practice at JBLM.

Led by Ann Tjhung, an ordained Zen Buddhist priest, the group usually begins with 30 minutes of meditation, followed by a brief dharma talk sometimes given by Tjhung or by another member. Then a conversation follows.

Last week she asked Kellnhofer to give the talk.

“I was a bit surprised and a little afraid but I enjoyed it,” he said. “She (Tjhung) is a bit like that, easy-going but knows when to push you.”

Like Kellnhofer, Tjhung’s introduction to Buddhism also began via the internet, and after trauma.

She “began practicing seriously,” she said, after she lost her then-19-year-old son, a U.S. Marine, to a car accident in California about five years ago.

Via JBLM’s counseling for the grieving, she started attending the Buddhist services then offered by Ajahn Malasarie, a Thai Buddhist Monk.

Tjhung began increasingly began taking an active role in the sangha under Ajahn Malasarie’s tutelage.

And then he asked her, much to her surprise and despite her not being an ordained chaplain, if she would take over the service.

Chaplin Captain Somya Malasri  had received a scholarship and was moving to Virginia, but he trusted that Tjhung had deepened in her practice enough to take over.

“It was quite an honor,” Tjhung said.

JBLM personnel risk their lives in missions on aircraft like this C-130 Hercules, on a training mission simulating rescue of earthquake visions.

The weekly service is open to all, and is free for people on the base.

“Attendance is pretty small most of the time,” she said. “A lot of Americans don’t really understand it, and because the practice requires some work and effort, people tend to shy away from it. It requires some self-control, to be able to sit down…sometimes might seem like it has no value, but it is huge.”

Because army personnel are always on the move, people are always passing through the JBLM sangha.

Through the year Tjhung has seen both young and old, military personnel as well as civilians and their families. Some attend meditations for six months but then they get relocated, reassigned and move on.

“Everybody seems to take something positive from it,” she said, adding that she tries to keep in touch with many of them through their Facebook page, and to share articles and reading material through that.

Like Guzman, Kellnhofer said part of the power of the Buddhist practice comes from how it enables him to work on himself, how it gives him inner tools he can use.

“I don’t like to downplay any religion but I don’t see them practicing anything,” Kellnhofer said. “They dress up nice for one day a week to be a better person.”

He added that it was a practice he could do, and that it started with him being exactly himself.

“There is a reason why it’s called ‘Buddhist practice,’” he said. “It’s a practice. I’m not perfect at it but I keep trying to get there. It helps me a lot. I feel I’ve made a few improvements in my personal life and generally found that nothing comes out of it but good.”

It has been about five months now that Kellnhofer has been off medication and he is convinced that’s because of his meditation practice.

“I know it was the meditation. It’s gotta be,” he said. There’s a hint of humble triumph in his voice.