And here’s the last update I sent around to friends, family, and donors. As many of you have noted, privately and otherwise, it was a transformative experience for me. Indeed, some folks have asked if it’s been difficult to be back; to deal with the daily lives of traffic jams and spilled milk. The answer is yes and no. I find no difficulty in dealing with the challenges of daily life. Anguish is anguish; pain is simply pain. And dealing with it, coming up with strategies to create a little relief, well that’s noble work regardless of who’s in pain or why.

No. The harder part has been dealing with the cleanliness, the brightness of America in this day and age. It’s hard to describe fully how the vividness of a society that “functions” well on a material and physical level can be off-putting, dislocating.

I’m sure that sensation will fade over time. And that certainty saddens me.

Sept. 13, 2010

Hi folks…I’m safe and healthy and in Xining right now. The power went out in most of the district of Yushu where we were staying and hence no Internet. I wrote this update yesterday before I flew from Yushu to Xining today.

It’s Sunday afternoon, around 3 p.m. It’s hot and I’m sitting in the kitchen a.k.a bar tent of the camp. I’m writing this off-line because the Internet has been down for three days (power has been on and off and I think this may have finally killed the local wifi antenna).

Maybe it’s the heat. Maybe it’s the dust. Maybe it’s the dumplings I had for lunch but I’m feeling reflective, quiet today. Tomorrow we leave for Xining and earlier today two of our group hit the road for the long road trip back to Chengdu so things are winding down a bit. It’s been an extraordinary few days.

Friday night, after dinner, we went to the old man’s tent. This is the fellow I wrote to you all about…the one caring for the paralyzed girl. [see video clip called Yushu Today for a scene with the man and the girl]  Earlier in the day we’d managed to find him a new tent, some blankets and warm clothes. We also bought a few kitchen items (Thermos’ etc. No self-respecting Tibetan is without at least one thermos for storing the ubiquitous hot water.)

We’d also made arrangements for a local family to check in with him weekly; earlier, when we’d set up his tent, we’d discovered he’d not eaten that day.

Friday night, I went with Tenpa and Jamphel to visit them.  They called him Abu, “father,” and talked warmly with him in Tibetan. They hugged him. Told him to be positive. They also spoke with the girl (who, it turns out, is also deaf and mute) by making funny hand gestures and stroking her cheek, making her smile.

When we walked back to the car, I told the guys that they’ve taught me so much about what it really means to see another human. I told them how hard it’s been for me, how my initial reaction is a fear-based recoiling, how I want to pull away every time.  Jamphel looked at me and simply said, “Yes. Well. But His Holiness [the Dalai Lama] says we should treat everyone like our parents.”

Of course. It’s that simple.

Saturday morning and my migraine lifted. Our first stop that morning was the Horse Park refugee camp. Driving there from the relief camp, I noticed that I wasn’t noticing the destruction quite so much. I’d begun recognizing shops (“They are the Muslim butchers’ tents.”) and landmarks of broken buildings. We pulled into the Horse Park and made our way to a segmented area. The difference in this area was astonishing. This little section is run by an NGO  whose focus is the health and well-being of the Tibetan nomads. Before the earthquake they were running a school, a boarding school, for young nomadic women, teaching them to be midwives.

And now they’re still running a boarding school training midwives. Aside rows of neat, clean, tents, was a large green tent…one of our tents…we stepped in, removed our muddy shoes. Inside the tent were 35 young women, aged 12 to 20 all training to be, among other things, the primary health care providers to their clans and tribes.

The teacher stopped. The class turned to watch us and we walked to the front of the class. Katas offered. Palms folded. Thanks given.

Later we stepped outside to take the requisite photo…all the TVP staff and I in front of the young women. After the photos, they surprised us with solos and duets of traditional songs. Katas offered. Palms folded. Tears flowed.

We then hit the road. Got out of town. Gave ourselves a gift. We went hiking. We drove to a valley only a few kilometers from the city. Down a dirt road, past a new ugly brick-making factory, we drove deep into a valley. We parked and started hiking up the mountain trails. The land was a tonic. We walked and laughed and splashed each other in the rapid stream at the base of the valley. We walked past a tiny “village” of two families and then past another, larger village of ten families.

As we walked, I was struck by the incredible number of mani carvings. Everywhere you turned, nearly every available rock surface was turned into a prayer, an offering. We walked past meditation caves and carvings of various Buddhas. Finally we stopped at a little island made by the stream forking. At its tip was a boulder formation that looked like a naturally-occurring stupa.

Streaming off the top were hundreds of prayer flags. We ate a picnic lunch and some of us (i.e., the weakling white guy in the group) took a nap while others hiked on.

As I lay there I watched vultures soar and dive, huge cloud formations and the bluest sky I’ve ever seen.

After two hours, the whole group came back and we took out a set of prayer flags we’d brought. Earlier I’d mentioned that it was the anniversary of the 9/11 attacks and that I’d felt a little sad. So the group surprised me by writing special prayers for the victims of the 9/11 attacks and their families on the flags. We scrambled up the boulders and hung the flags.

Hiking back, we stopped at the larger of the two villages. This village had received three tents from us. One was housing four families. It replaced a mud-brick home that had also housed four families before the roof caved in.

Another had become a new shrine room. This little village has a tiny monastery supporting pilgrims who come to circumambulate a trio of holy mountains (a six hour task if you’re walking; a tad longer if you’re prostrating all the way around).

Katas offered. Butter tea offered (and declined by the white guy). Hot water offer (and accepted by the white guy). Dried yak meat. Yogurt. Fried bread.

Seeing our work take hold and help even in this tiny village outpost was as much a tonic as watching the vultures and counting the mani carvings.

This morning some of the group headed back to Chengdu…they’re aiming to make it in three days and have a good chance as the rains have stopped.

After they left, Jamphel and I interviewed a restaurant owner (and recipient of a tent). TVP’s core service offering is assisting small businesses with loans. This restaurant owner also owns a tailor shop and both places were packed. His is the only operating Tibetan restaurant in the area (in a town that used to be 98% Tibetan). He’s interested in a loan for 25,000 Yuan. With it, he thinks he can expand (even as he continues to operate from our tent) and hire 8 people with an average salary of 1000 to 1500 Yuan a month.

The government announced last week that it will be distributing 50,000 winterized tents in the coming weeks. I hope that’s true. Despite today’s warmth, it could snow tomorrow.

The real work of recovery though goes beyond tents. Giving these people back their lives will take years. TVP will likely increase it’s efforts at helping small businesses. Get the economy going and people can, once again, take care of themselves (assuming they’ve blankets and warm clothes).

My part of this effort is ending—at least for now. Tomorrow night I should be in Xining. The next day Beijing. And finally back to New York on Wednesday the 15^th. I’ll post photos and videos and will send you all links when I’m done editing and such.

It’s so hard to fully describe what this experience has done. I’ve seen first hand the lives we’ve all helped. I know we’ve made a difference.  But I think it’s going to take me a long time to fully appreciate the ways in which these lovely, wild heart-breaking people have changed me.

Tashi Delek,

Jerry

Hiking the Valley -Large from Jerry Colonna on Vimeo.

Remembering 9-11-Large from Jerry Colonna on Vimeo.

Continuing the journey to Yushu…more excerpts from the updates I sent two weeks ago. Following the except, I’ve got some “video” slideshows. They may be a bit long but I think they’re quite compelling…look especially at the second slideshow, Yushu Today.

September 9, 2010
I’m writing midday on Thursday the 9th. The last 36 hours have been some of the most difficult of my life. I’m also writing this offline as gmail and power and internet connections tend to be a little shaky in Yushu.

Yesterday morning, the 8th, broke cold, rainy…just miserable. Winter seems to be coming early. The previous night was terribly cold—even the locals said so. I thought of that as we started that morning’s distribution. The first group were some six monks who arrived with a huge truck to take the 32 (not 35 as I said in my last update) tents. 30 were destined for families in a village outside Yushu city while two large tents were going to the monastery. We loaded the trucks and began the hour-long drive to the village.

We pulled into the town in a driving rain. Mud everywhere. Piles of barley everywhere. Yaks and yak dung everywhere (this place is growing on me, btw, as I’m getting to enjoy, even the welcome the smell of burning yak dung. It’s actually sort of sweet, like incense.).

We were showed into a store the monks run for the local village and were welcomed with yak butter tea, hot water, black tea, and Sprite. Yes, Sprite. They also pulled out mounds of cookies and candies.

We then met two of the village elders who greeted us traditionally, Tashi Delek. And we stepped outside to help with the distribution.

We visited some of the families’ tent sites. Tamdin remarked that some of the tents looked wonderful…neat and warm…and a village elder explained that those are the tents for the construction workers sent to help. Of course.

We visited a site where four families are sharing one “tent”…blankets and plastic tarp over tree branches. We took pictures and a little girl climbed into my lap.
Heart-warming. But my anger and the difficult conditions is rising and it’s hard to be here.

Later, in journaling about it, I also recognize my all-too human feelings of being overwhelmed and wanting to bolt in the face of what feels like hopeless devastation and pain.

It’s too much, I thought to myself, not for the first time. Nor the last.

Later we visited the monastery.

Perched high on a hillside overlooking a valley and surrounded by a number of villages, the monastery also suffered. They lost all of the books, all of their dharma texts in the 700-plus year old library. The second story of their two story central shrine room was completely destroyed.

We visited the first floor and we all prostrated and admired the amazing thankgas and photos and paintings of important lamas. Including you all know who.

Then we circumambulated their main stupa housing a gorgeous Buddha and I touched as many mani stones as I could, taking in the view while gasping for air.

Heading back to Yushu, we drove again through the rain and lunched at the same “restaurant” in the camp. I was scared. My head had begun to ache and I was weak. Again I thought it was from the altitude and, truth is I didn’t drink enough water. But really it was also from holding back the tears, the anger, the frustration.

Earlier the villagers again presented us with katas and the monks gave us hand-carved mani stones as well as katas. But as my brother John wrote to me, it is me who should be thanking them for the blessings they give in being able to help. Amen.

Back at the restaurant, feeling terribly sick and tired, I was driven back to the relief camp. I crawled into my sleeping back around 7 p.m. with a migraine.

I awoke about 12 hours later; the emotional toll and the altitude must be exhausting me. We breakfasted and I was able to check email a bit (I’m sorry I can’t respond to each of you individually—the connection is very hard to maintain.).

We then headed out to visit some townspeople who had received tents and were setting them up.
That had to be the hardest three hours of my life. Staggering pain. We walked amongst the tents and make shift shelters that are everywhere in town. These were no orderly refugee camp type places…but shelters in garbage filled lots.

We visited one townsman…his “tent” currently shelters five families…15 people…in what had to be 10 x 10 space. And the leaks were obvious from the puddles everywhere. We proudly took pictures next to his new tent.

As moved through this area, we quickly gathered a following. Folks who were not on the list for tents. The TVP volunteers quietly and with great compassion took down their names and their stories. Sometimes among the things these folks need most is someone to hear their story. Even months after the earthquake, the need to know that people just know.

We met a man who was weeping as he came to see us. He pulled us into his shelter (I can’t even call it a tent) to show us his paralyzed niece. She’s all that’s left of his family. His wife died circumambulating a nearby stupa. It was destroyed as was the monastery next to it. He wept as he told us how hard it’s been to care for his niece and himself. How he thought of often of killing himself. After listening we resolved to do what we could for them today…buy what they might need for a short term help.
We left with him praying that no other sentient being should ever suffer as his family did.

We finished the morning rounds by visiting the site where 800 bodies were cremated. In Tibetan tradition, those who’ve passed go through what is known as sky burial and they receive traditional Buddhist blessing so their journey through the bardo will be painless and joyful.

Most painful for folks here is that so many people left without these traditional blessings.

Painful beyond words is the only way I can describe seeing the site of the actual cremation and how the fires were so hot as to have twisted steel rebar. The sacredness of the site was made more so but the hand built memorials to those whose bodies were burned here. Mani stones, flowers, pictures in neat little piles. And some with cans of their favorite foods or drinks.

As I noted, it’s midday. I’ve decided to stay in the camp for today. I can’t take another round of visiting. Not today at least. We have three more days to go before I start making my way home. Of course, the people of Yushu will be staying.

One thought struck me as we made our way around town today…I have never ever fully appreciated the everyday work of true relief workers around the world. Bless you guys. We’ve all seen what devastation looks like through CNN and the New York Times. But to be amongst it, even for a few days is life-altering.

And to dedicate your life to running into the fire, so to speak, when every instinct says to flee…well that’s a true bodhisattva.
Tashi Delek to you all,
Jerry

Village and Monastery Slideshow-Large from Jerry Colonna on Vimeo.

Yushu today -Large from Jerry Colonna on Vimeo.

Distributing Tents-Large from Jerry Colonna on Vimeo.

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I’m back in the States. This trip, this effort to bring some relief to the people of Yushu, Qinghai, China, has been life-changing.

The other day, one day back, I was doing a boxing session when my trainer said, “Are you okay? You seem …lighter, in some other place, but also calmer.” It feels like a piece of me is still there.

Here are a few excerpts from emails I sent to funder, family, and friends along with videos and some slideshows.

9/5/2010

Hello everyone…apologies for the mass email but internet connections are rare here in Kham and, in wanting to update you on the trip, it’s easier if I send out one note…

My fellow travelers and I are two days out of Yushu in a town called Ganzi. We’ve been driving for three days and, because the roads have been so bad (hardly possible to call them roads made worse by terrible rain and mud), it’s taking longer than we anticipated. But I’m learning that’s true about many aspects of life here in Tibet.

The land is startling beautiful…Sara Wheeler, writing in Terra Incognito, has another line I’ll steal; she says, the land has a beauty that is so striking as to be a wound.

Amen.

Equally startling is the poverty, though. It’s such a powerful experience to connect with people for whom so little means so much.

Yesterday we stopped in a small town, about two hours from Kangding (one of the last large towns in Sichuan before crossing into Kham).

At breakfast, we met with Abu, a monk who’s been friends with Tamdin Wangdu for years. Tamdin, the founder of Tibetan Village Project, runs a number of projects in Tibet…the work we’re doing bringing tents and other supplies to Yushu, is just one aspect of TVP. Abu took us to see the orphanage run by his monastery. The 50 boys include 10 kids who lost their parents in the earthquake at Yushu.

[Here's a slideshow I put together of images of the kids.]

The Orphanage -Large from Jerry Colonna on Vimeo.

Tamdin was stopping to take measurements for the boys’ clothes. It’s been a year since he could buy the kids clothes and they all need new things. We walked into the classroom  (a square of plastic sheeting held up by tree branches and surrounded by muddy puddles) and were greeted by the boys’ chanting of their morning lessons. They were precious in their happiness to see us. They got a break from lessons because visitors had come.

We spent time with the boys and spoke with the monks about what the boys needed and Tamdin realized that one of the two types of tents we’re bringing to Yushu would be perfect for a new classroom. The tents are 45 square meters (and like the other tents, the ones we’ll be distributing to the families) are fully insulated and can hold stoves for heating and solar lighting. We’re bringing about 30 of these tents to Yushu where they will be used for clinics and classrooms and other “businesses.”

We gathered for photos and we all laughed. I’d be shooting pictures of the kids all along and when we finished with the group shots, I showed the boys some of the pictures I took. They ended up crawling all over me and we laughed and I tossed a few in the air. It’s hard to describe what it feels like to have your heart broken with sadness, compassion and joy.

We spent the night in Daofu and, after dinner, walked through town (after watching our driver Tenpa beat Tamdin in pool). Early this morning we hit the road again and made it to the plateau about midday. The plateau looks like what you’d think of when you think Tibet…sweeping vistas, rolling hills, grasses as far as you can see, stupas, prayer flags, nomads and Yaks every where.

(Speaking of yaks… I have tried yak, yak butter, and yak yogurt. I’ll stick with the latter, thanks.)

As you can imagine, my companions and I are getting quite close. We pass the hours asking each other questions. I ask about Tibet and their lives and they ask about America.

(Of the seven of us, Tamdin and I live in America and one of the others has been to the US: Yeshe, a river guide when he’s not volunteering to drive trucks of supplies into Yushu, has rafted the Colorado through the Grand Canyon!)

This afternoon, I began telling them about all of the people who have supported this effort…from small donations to large…every dollar has meant so much. And not, as we all know, just because of the money. They were moved nearly to tears when I said that my friends really do care about what happens here and that we wanted the people here to know that.

So thank you all, thanks for listening to me (or reading me) jabber on about this for months now. Thanks for all the ways you’ve supported this effort and the people of Yushu.

I don’t know when I’ll have another strong connection to the internet or when I’ll be able to post pictures. But I’ll do my best. Rumor has it that the internet connection between Yushu and the rest of the world is up again. If it is, I’ll send a report from there.

We should begin distributing and assisting the setting up of tents in three days. The current plan is for us to stay there for several days to complete that work and then I will begin making my way home again on the 13th.

With love and enormous gratitude to all of you…Tashi Delek.

Jerry

Hello from Chengdu…I’m safe and happy. The flight (on August 30) to Beijing was long and uneventful and the night there was fine. I landed late in the evening of the 31st and on the 1st made my way here. It took most of the day. I was met at the airport by the folks … (continue reading)