Some helpful Tibetan lingo:
Response to Za xi de
lei (welcome): Za xi de lei xiu
Na chu na ga: I
love you
Simo: young lady,
pretty lady
Silang: young man,
handsome man
Deimo: goodbye
6 word Tibetan prayer: o
ma mi bei bi hom
8 word Tibetan prayer: o
ma zei mo ye sa lam dei
My
conception of zangzu, or in general
Tibetan, culture was definitely much different from what I experienced at Jiuzhaigou.
Preconceptions were of a more rowdy, almost Mongol-like pastoralist group, like
the Mongol nomads that we attribute to the Huns. I had come into the area with
the basic knowledge of Buddhist traditions, values and morals. I already knew
much of the information faith-wise, but it was interesting to listen to some of
the historical aspects of how certain sects of Buddhism rose to power due to a
uniform acceptance starting from the Qing dynasty.
I was
perhaps a little apprehensive when I found out that our tour guide had arranged
for us to stay at a zangzu house for
dinner. This house is no ordinary zangzu
house either, as it had produced 2 houfo,
or living buddhas. In other words, this was a house of some of the highest,
most respected Buddhist clergy. Being completely foreign to their customs,
eating habits, and not to mention language, it was definitely an experience
that I will never forget.
There
are many customary actions that are taken before almost every action. Ranging
from being welcomed, to before anyone drinks barley wine. When we first arrived
at the zangzu house, two strapping
Tibetan lads came to us, and hung a yellow hada,
a kind of woven scarf, around our necks and welcomed us with the traditional
greeting: za xi de lei. Clasping my
hands together and bowing slightly, I respond with za xi de lei xiu, which is like accepting/acknowledging their
welcome. When we reached the entry way into the house’s main area, we said a
traditional 8 word Buddhist prayer, o ma
zei mo ye sa lam dei, for peace for the host and for the visits. After the
prayer, we headed towards the dining area. In zangzu culture, the women take a subservient role, and as a result
are the main servers, and enter the house after all the men have entered the
house and have taken their seats at the eating place.
The
eating place is like a true mess hall, as there are many small tables arranged
in rows to accommodate as many people as possible, which follows with their
communal eating style. There were many various small dishes, ranging from spicy
radish, baked potato, to mountain sheep meat and yak meat. The interesting rule
was that you could use chopsticks for everything except the meat and rice. For
these dishes, you had to use your hands. On a food-related note, the buttered
tea is delicious, as is the barley wine. I didn’t think it would be good, but
it was a nice pleasant surprise. Barley wine had special connotations
associated with it, where customs dictated that if certain rules were broken,
the person committing the fault would be expected to down more barley wine. All
in all, it was a rowdy dinner experience.
The
place where you sit is also highly defined by your social rank within a family,
and in a tribe. Lucky for us, my dad, a family friend, and I, three guys, ended
up sitting in the most distinguished seats in the house, which meant we had
certain roles to uphold. My dad sat in the eldest brother seat, and was
responsible for getting the crowd in uproars. The family friend sat in the
second brother seat, and was responsible for dishing out drinking penalties for
anyone who wasn’t fully engaged with the festivities. And there was me, in the
third brother seat, where my responsibilities will come up soon.
While
we were dining, our hostess continued to introduce various different simos and silangs that came to sing their native highland songs for us. It
had a mysterious lull to it, filled with impressive vocal ranges and arias that
make even the most distinguished opera singers do a double take. Now comes my
responsibilities as third brother; I had to dance with the different zangzu simos while they sang. In other
words, I was there to put on a show with them. Barring all senses of shame or
embarrassment, I found myself naturally moving and dancing with the simos. Pictures were taken. Laughter was
present. It was, after all, a rowdy good time.
After I
had left the zangzu household, we headed
toward a large theater, where we were to go watch a cultural show highlighting
various Tibetan dances (much like WashU’s Lunar New Year Festival). At the
theater, a few girls from a different tour group that were at the same zangzu house as us were also headed to
the show, but wanted to get a picture with me. Apparently, when these girls
were asked if they saw any silangs
they liked, they pointed to me, the dancing third brother. The tour guide that
was taking the pictures for them asked me if I was ABC, and when I said yes, he
responded that I looked like Wang Leehom. Afterward, we went into the theatre and
enjoyed ourselves an elaborate show. So, after feeling like a celebrity and
making various Moves like Jagger jokes with my sister, we closed the book on
this Tibetan excursion.
