Forwarded by: tsering_khangsar@talvest.com

By: Dorota Kozinska

Source: The Gazette, (Montreal, Canada)

Date: April 14, 1996

Thubten Samdup's path in life is clear and it leads straight to the Dalai Lama, the exiled political leader of Tibet. Samdup is a representative of the Tibetan government-in-exile, the Assembly of Tibetan People's Deputies, and is the first front North America. Twice a year, he travels to Dharamsala, India home away from home for meetings with the Dalai Lama.

Samdup, 46, has lived in Montreal for more than 16 years, the last 15 in a 6 1/2 room apartment in Snowdon, with his wife, Carole, and two children, 19 year-old son Dawa ("moon" in Tibetan) and 17-year-old Deborah.

We were sitting in their cozy living room, furnished with upholstered couches and armchairs. There were white crochet curtains in the windows and, above the piano, a huge picture of the Dalai Lama. A large table dominated the adjacent dining room. The front door kept slamming and there was a quite alot of traffic as I strained to listen to the soft-spoken Samdup.

"We escaped right after the Dalai Lama left Lhasa," said Samdup, who was born in the Tibetan capital. "We left with absolutely no possessions. We were lucky to escape alive."

He was referring to the 1959 Chinese invasion of Tibet, and the exodus of many of the 6 million Tibetans, most whom settled in India. "They had to walk across the mountains for many days," he said, "It was a very sad period. Most Tibetans died there. All of a sudden they were exposed to diseases they didn't know, coming from such a cold climate."

He himself doesn't really remember the march. "You know, for some strange reason, I hardly remember. A mental block or something. All I remember is being on my mother's back and crossing a river."

The phone rang somewhere inside the house. "Sam, someone's calling from India, and it's not coming through," yelled Carole. A black and white cat dashed in ahead of her. "Her name is MC," Carole said, "for my cat." She has a wry sense of humor, in cotrast to Samdup's stole composure.

In India, he got involved in music and soon became adept at singing and playing all the Tibetan instruments. He joined the Tibetan Institute of Performing Arts at 9, the youngest musician there, a prodigy. "Child star, Michael Jackson!"-an aside from his wife. "Something like that," smile Samdup.

"When we go there," Carole continued, "if we meet an older Tibetan, they all go. 'Ah Thubten, Thubten, Thubten.' because they all remember him when he was little."

Samdup eventually became director of the institute, "I haven't done much with music for a very, very long time," he said. "Life took a different turn."

He went to the United States to study ethnomusity in Rhode Island and graduated in 1975. HE then returned to Dharamsala and in 1980 emigrated to Canada with Carole, who he met in India. They have been married for 21 years.

This is an unusual mix, to say the least. Carole is an anglophone raised in Town of Mount Royal. Her interest in Eastern religions took her to India and the rest, as they say is history. "It's strange." agreed Samdup. "Sometimes we talk about how differently we were brought up."

She stayed in Dharamsala for 10 years. "People kept telling me to go there. They said it's a nice place and you can see the Dalai Lama. At the time I said, is the Dalai Lama a real person? I though he was a myth or something."

She recalls her days in India very fondly. "Dharamsala used to be a British hill station," she said. "When the English left, they left behind all these wonderful big houses with mahogany furniture. It's a beautiful place. In the foothills, lots of vegetation, not crowded. An the Tibetans were more fun! Living with them was more fun than living with the Indian people. They are very cheerful, open and very welcoming to strangers. They have a different way of looking at life, more enthusiastic, instead of a cynical, depressed outlook."

They lived in a one-room house but most of the living there is done outside. "If you stayed in your house all day they'd think you were deranged!"

Finally they had to leave. The children were growing and they could not afford to send them to a good school in India. Carole wasn't working and Samdup was hardly making any money, so they packed and moved to Montreal. At that time, Samdup was already deeply involved in the Tibetan cause. "It got to a point," he said, "that I felt I had done my share."

Famous last words. Soon after settling here, Samdup was back in the saddle. "To be honest, when I left Dharamsala, I did not think I was going to work for the Tibetan cause. I just came here, and I said I ws going to enjoy the North America life. All of a sudden, I found myself faced with a Tibetan community that needed somebody like me to be their leader. The younger children didn't remember the past and the older Tibetans didn't have the knowhow, so I tried to build a bridge."

That bridge is being further strengthened through the Internet, which Samdup uses to publish his daily electronic news on Tibet. He has more than 1,000 subscribers. "If fascinates most people," laughed Samdup, "to see the Tibetan cause on Internet. But it helps, especially since the Tibetan community is very small and scattered around the world; it creates a link."

We were now in the nerve-centre of the house, the basement, which houses Samdup's office and is infact the national office of the Canada Tibet Committee, run by the Samdups, who were the co-founders in 1987. It's a bustling place, with volunteers popping in to help with the letters. There are filing cabinets everywhere, and two desks covered with papers.

A huge yellow, red and blue Tibetan flag with two dragons and the rising sun hangs above the computer. there are colorful thangkas (religious paintings on the wall, pictures of the Dalai Lama, one of Samdup playing an instrument, with his two little children at this feet, even a stick saying "I Love Tibet".

After returning from his regular job (he works in the customer service department of an electronics firm), Samdup goes straight to his downstairs office and works at this computer late into the night.

"I have sacrificed everything," he said, "I really have no like. I cannot do little things like go skiing or meet with friends.

Sometimes, I feel very guilty because my children have suffered." They are not involved in the cause. "It's enough that the parents are obsessed!" he said.

It's not an easy battle. The Tibetan community is small and therefore holds no voting power. Its belief in non-violence and dialogue is in deep contrast to the struggle for independence of such groups as the IRA or PLO, and its voice is often lost in the media's pursult of sensationalism.

"It's really hard to comprehend oppression," said Samdup sadly. "It's one thing reading about something and another living it. We find it easier to talk to eastern Europeans-they know exactly what we're talking about. But some people still find it difficult to comprehend that someone can't just walk in and tell you that you can't have the picture there (pointing to the Dalai Lama). If you fly the flag, you could get killed. And that's real."

He meets with politicians whenever he can but admitted to being a disillusioned with the process. "It became a ritual," he said. "they know exactly what I'm going to say before they even meet me. The only way that anything can change is through the general public."

But with the typical Buddhist compassion for all humanity, he quickly added, "I truly believe that despite all the problems Canada is a most tolerant country. People in general are very nice."

And his dedications to the cause of Tibet is unwavering. So is that of Carole, who has got her whole family involved in it.

"At least I managed to convert my family." Samdup smiled.