Friends in Lhasa

"What I do today is important because I am paying a day of my life for it. What I accomplish must be worthwhile because the price is high."

I'm sitting here in Asia Minor wondering how friends in Lhasa are coping with their new reality. The news blackout makes it difficult to know the extent of destruction and suffering. I have changed their names to protect their identity.

Tsering, a gentle young man living and working with his mother and sisters; shopkeepers in the Barkhor. Remembering how we walked the kora, the circle of prayer around and around, talking as he shared his dreams of returning to Amdo and being a teacher. We were surrounded by peaceful, devout pilgrims making offerings. How he led me into the Chinese owned and managed concrete mini-plaza where Tibetan women offered coral and turquoise stones. How we haggled, enjoyed their company, laughed and continued on our way.

We met again one day during Losar, the Tibetan New Year, at Deprung Monastery outside Lhasa. They'd climbed through the series of temples, making offerings, saying their prayers. We shared butter tea with his mother and her friends overlooking the Lhasa valley.

I remember Shalu, a young Muslim girl studying English, also dreaming of being a teacher. Having been to her home for a meal and conversation with her family I feel she is safe from the chaos.

Her friend, Dorje, is a doctor at a Tibetan hospital. I imagine she is taking care of her patients with loving kindness and working under extreme stress.

A Tibetan photographer and his Chinese wife, a painter, and their young daughter I met climbing the mountain above Drepung to release our prayer flags during Losar. How they graciously invited me to their home for fruit, tea and conversation.

I remember all the kind compassionate people in Lhasa.

May all of them be well. Light a candle.

Peace.