PROTESTS BY TIBETANS IN LHASA

I’m sure you’re all aware of the brutal crackdown by the Chinese of the Tibetans in Lhasa and elsewhere, as they protest Chinese occupation on the anniversary of the 1959 uprising against Chinese rule that forced the Dalai Lama to flee to India. Similar demonstrations are going on around the world. They are also protesting the increasing numbers of Chinese who are being transported as immigrants into Tibet to obliterate the ancient and beloved customs and religion of the Tibetan people. This makes me heartsick, as did the crackdown of the Burmese people last Fall by their military junta, supported in large part by China. It also makes me wonder if the West will step up and fight for human rights against a dictatorial regime that is not only incarcerating its own (dissident) citizens, but reaching out to crush other cultures who won’t bow to its will. Are we so wedded to business and trade as usual that we’ve lost sight of common decency and humanity? 

My daughter, Martha, who, like other members of our family, has adopted a Tibetan student in India, sent me this website, which I pass on to you. It has up-to-the-minute news about what is unfolding in Tibet and around the world, and videos that will make you cry. But they need to be seen.www.phayul.com  There is also a front page story in the NYTimes today, March 15. All of you who have traveled in Tibet, Nepal, and China will be interested in the pictures and the story. 

The Polish government has already called for a boycott of the Olympics – and given a deadline for negotiations with His Holiness, the Dalai Lama. That is one brave government. But, as Martha pointed out, they lived under communist repression for decades and are willing to fight anyone’s war against repression. God bless them. 

Several months ago, my daughter, Cary, wrote about the pollution she was experiencing in Chengdu, China (see her blog: www.carypeterson.wordpress.com) . Shortly after that, articles began appearing in the paper and sports magazines about the danger to our athletes from the terrible air quality around Beijing. I was going to write to the Olympic Committee and to Al Gore suggesting that all our athletes appear in China wearing surgical masks. What a great statement! But since then, this has become a mainstream idea and suggested by various couches of the Games. How awful to think that we cannot use the threat of removing the Olympic games from China as leverage to promote clean air as well as to let the Tibetans live in peace. Or can we? How do we make our voices be heard? Richard Gere has already started the momentum on the above-mentioned website, but perhaps we should all write to our Senators and Congressmen, asking for some action, and then to the Clinton and Obama campaigns, asking them how they would respond to this issue were either of them president.  

It may be a long shot, but we can’t sit around and do nothing.

It’s now March 16 and there are more articles on the front page of the New York Times and other publications about the widespread protests by the Tibetans. In reading about the actions of the Indian police I was touched by a remark made by one of the young Tibetans that it was Ghandi who had inspired his non-violence and he could not understand what has happened to India to make them react so brutally. 

Last year, on March 10, Cary and I witnessed a peaceful march starting in Dharamsala in the driving rain. This was the same anniversary that sparked the protests this year, but the difference is that this year marks almost 50 years of repression. The marchers were greeted in Namgyl Temple by the Dalai Lama and the wind was so fierce that buckets of rain water, that had collected in the cloth awnings above the courtyard, blew down like a giant shower over the participants. Nobody was daunted. The mood was positive and the singing joyous. Spirits could not be dampened. In the evening, when the marchers returned from visiting nearby villages, the rain had subsided and there was a solemn line of marchers carrying white candles and chanting. 

Even the sports pages are carrying news that the two routes to Mt. Everest are scheduled to be off limits to mountaineers from May 1-10 this year, the prime window of opportunity climbers depend on to get to the summit…between the fierce winter storms and the monsoon season…as Beijing prepares to inaugurate the Summer Olympics free of pro-Tibetan protests. Climbers and trekking companies are outraged that they must wait while the Olympic torch bearers carry the flame to the summit of Everest and down through Tibet to Beijing. This is an almost impossible task, due to the need for acclimitization at such altitudes, but the Chinese seem willing to take the risk, sending a hundred climbers, if necessary, in the hope that some will make it. And the Nepalese are going along with it, much to the dismay and anger of outfitters who had planned to start their climbing preparations in Kathmandu in mid-April.

Who knows how this will end, but the Chinese are definitely suffering from worldwide disapproval. Let’s hope that it doesn’t lead to genocide.

NEW JERSEY IS MAKING ME CRAZY SINCE MY RETURN FROM CALIFORNIA

First it’s sunny and 50 degrees; the next day it’s raining and a few degrees above snowing; and then it’s sunny and 30 degrees, followed by hurricane city at a balmy 65 degrees. So now, on a cold, brilliant morning in March my body and mind are thoroughly confused and I just want to go back to the sun and surf and therapeutic paradise called L.A. But, folks, NOT to the traffic! 

I was reminded of George Carlin when I entered the cattle car called tourist class on United Airlines, hugging my peanut butter sandwich sans bottled water, and glad that I was still thin from my bout with giardia on my last trip to Asia, so I could fit into the ever-shrinking seats. If you haven’t read it, grab his essay on flying. It’s prophetic, and I think I could add a few choice sentences of my own to his description of the chaotic life on board, especially when it comes to the adventure of securing a rest room (The ones forward are for First Class passengers, only, we are admonished). I could hardly blame the young man in the aisle seat for getting progressively sloshed during the tedious flight. 

I’ve traveled around the world twice, never losing so much as one backpack, but I arrived from the Phoenix connection (no relation to the French Connection) minus my only suitcase, thus breaking my perfect record. From now on it’s “carry on or die.” It was nice of the airline to wake us all up at 7 on Saturday morning to return it. 

Thus began a glorious ten days with sons Tom and Robert, and Rob’s wife, Gwen Abel. Let me urge all of you to visit the myriad sites in and around southern California. It’s not just movies, freeways, and palm trees. It’s replete with challenging mountains, spectacular sunsets over the Pacific, beaches, museums, gardens, and surfers with rippling muscles. Who could ask for anything more? Travelers—don’t miss this part of America when you come to visit. 

Here is a brief listing of my hikes. All you tourists look them up. They’re very special. Both my sons do these canyons on bikes, but deigned to walk with me this time. The first was Upper Rustic Canyon.  Seems there was a community of Germans and Nazi sympathizers who settled in these canyons, and in the late 50’s, after a dry season, there was an horrific fire which destroyed all the homes, leaving only the bare foundations, water works, and a series of incredibly steep steps going straight up for half a mile. I know. I climbed down, and had to climb back up. The area is now overgrown with cactus and exotic flowers. Nearby is the Josepho Boy Scout Camp, and  high on a distant hill is the old Max Factor estate and the mansion of Dennis Tito, the first American civilian to go into space. You may remember that he paid the Russians 20 million dollars for the privilege. 

The second day we hiked up Mandeville Canyon on the West Ridge. You can imagine the views! All of the west side of L.A., Palls Verdes Peninsula, and Catalina Island. Both canyons are part of the Santa Monica mountains.

During the week I visited my old friend, Karen dePlanque, in LaJolla, two hours south of L.A. by train. It is truly the city of perpetual springtime. Comfortable nights, warm days, walks on the sand from Torrey Pines to Blacks Beach, and lingering around Seal Beach watching the baby seals being taught the rudiments of swimming by their mothers while fat relatives loll in the sun on the shore. As we walked down the beach we discovered the rocky haunts of seal lions, and wondered how on earth they ever negotiated the ragged cliffs, even at low tide.  

In the evening it was mesmerizing to watch the surfers at the famous Windansea area in LaJolla, riding huge waves, even after the lights on distant boats signaled the setting of the sun. Where did such gigantic waves come from? A surfer answered my question. All the way from New Zealand. 

On my last weekend I visited the J. Paul Getty Museum, high on the cliffs overlooking Brentwood, UCLA, and West Los Angeles. This is a complex not to be missed. Gwen’s mother, Ruth Abel was, indeed, a most able and knowledgeable guide, and I soon realized that the architecture and gardens from the outside were every bit as pleasing as the revolving collections and exhibits within the spacious interior. 

Our final hike was in the hills above Malibu Canyon. We started at Tapia Park and climbed 3,000 ft. to an overlook. Stretching as far as you could see,  beyond ever-more canyons, was the Pacific Ocean. The boys rode their bikes back, most of the way on the beach, while Gwen and I enjoyed a quiet ride along the shore, and immediately jumped into the pool when we reached Playa del Rey. Lying on my back in the water and looking up at the clouds in February…wow! That’s livin.’

The day before leaving, son Tom, horticulturalist par excellence, drove me to the Huntington Gardens near Pasadena. This vast botanical garden encompasses more than a dozen gardens—among them a Japanese, Chinese, Desert, and Children’s garden—a research library, and an art gallery, all built in 1919 by the financier Henry E. Huntington. I’ve traveled through Australia and New Zealand and visited many of their gardens, and I can vouch for the uniqueness and beauty of this special place near the foothills of the San Gabriel Mountains. 

All you golfers—I urge you to visit Rob’s website: www.almostgolf.com and see his latest plans for tournaments in colleges and high schools worldwide.  

I just finished Greg Mortenson’s Three Cups of Tea, for me a life-changing story that has me itching to return to Asia and, in my small way, support those who are in the forefront of educating the children of the Muslim world. I highly recommend his website: www.threecupsoftea.com. Buy the book and help toward the education of children, especially girls, in Pakistan and Afghanistan.

One last note: I highly recommend that you go on line and catch the March 7 broadcast of the PBS show NOW, an interview with Alex Gibney, the director of this year’s Oscar-winning feature documentary, Taxi to the Dark Side. This powerful film tells the story of an innocent Afghan taxi driver who died while being interrogated and tortured by U.S. soldiers. The frank discussion (including statements by the interrogators themselves) examines the torture practices of the United States in Afghanistan, Iraq, and Guantanamo. Alex is a member of the Summit church I attend, and has done extensive research over the past five years for this film.