Chapter 16- Final Days Together & The Parting of Ways
The couple checked out of their hotel in Agra the next morning and caught a train back to Delhi. Jennifer was focused on the upcoming interview and wanted to be sure Tsering was prepared. During the train ride she quizzed him on all the details and dates that were part of his newly acquired paper trail and immigration application. Tsering had a hard time remembering the dates– Tibetans function on a completely different calendar than the West. They use a lunar calendar as opposed to a solar one. To add to Tsering’s confusion, the concept and importance of dates was new to him– he didn’t know what his actual birth date was. His mother had simply told him that he was born at the time of the harvest in the Year of the Ox. Birthdays were traditionally celebrated on Losar, the Tibetan New Year by all Tibetans alike. So, Jennifer continued to stress the importance of dates in western society to Tsering and told him that a minor slip-up on a detail concerning an important date like his birth or their marriage might very well cost them his immigration visa. By the time the train arrived in Delhi, Jennifer was pretty sure she had drilled Tsering on his life history adequately. The interview at the US Embassy was in just a couple of days. She would make sure to continue practicing with him several times a day.
The day before the interview, Jennifer and Tsering went to the local temple in Majnukatilla to make prayers and offerings so as to create auspicious circumstances for the big day at the Embassy. Months of hard work and determination were riding on this final outcome. If all went well, Tsering would be granted an immigration visa to the States with the promise of a Green Card and Social Security Card upon arrival. If he was denied immigration, however, that would be the end of their hopes and dreams of life together in the States. Their entire future together lay in the hands of the one individual who was going to interview them. Feeling the pressure of their situation, Jennifer spent the rest of the day role-playing with Tsering, pretending to be the Consular and asking him all sorts of questions. She knew he was nervous about his English-speaking skills and tried to encourage him as best she could.
“Don’t worry, Tsering-la. Stay relaxed. If you tense up and get nervous, it will show and the Consular will think you are lying. You’ve got to believe in yourself and be confident. Speak slowly, clearly and in short, simple sentences. Okay let’s try it again. What is your date and place of birth?”
Tsering was getting better with his responses with each practice run. He was starting to memorize his responses and they became more automatic and natural. Jennifer was thankful that the Tibetan officers back in Dheradun had suggested using repetitive numbers for the dates on his birth certificate and their marriage certificate. Satisfied with Tsering’s progress, Jennifer suggested they take a short evening stroll in the park just beside Majnukatilla to enjoy the cool evening air and sunset. They then cooked a simple meal of rice, vegetable curry and salted cucumber salad before retiring early in anticipation of the interview the next morning.
Jennifer suggested Tsering wear the white button down shirt that their friend Thubten had gifted him when they left the monastery in Sarnath together. She dressed in a natural cotton blouse and blue lungi sarong that she had purchased for their honeymoon trip to Agra. They took a quick breakfast of Boja, Tibetan tea, and Balep, Tibetan pan-fried bread, before hiring a taxi to take them to the Embassy. It was the morning rush hour so Jennifer had planned to allow extra time for the commute so they would not be late. She made sure to bring a collection of their photos together from the past six months– photos of when Tsering was still a monk in Sarnath and they were shy neighbors, photos of their travels together to the various Buddhist pilgrimage sites and Nepal, and photos of their newly married life together after Tsering gave back his vows and they ventured out into the world together.
They arrived at the Embassy and when Jennifer showed Security their interview appointment letter they were instructed to go around to the side of the building and gain entry there. Jennifer proceeded to the check-in window where the clerk checked their identification. She asked Tsering for his fingerprints and then told the couple to be seated. They were early and the Consular was not in the office yet. She told them he would be in by 9:00 and would come to call them to his office shortly thereafter. Jennifer was getting nervous. She could feel her palms start to sweat and the muscles in her shoulders tense. A knot in her stomach formed as her breath grew tight. She wondered how Tsering was feeling.
“How are you Tsering? Are you okay?” Tsering just nodded his head, he was already too nervous to speak. Jennifer worried as she noticed he was pursing his mouth– something she knew he did when he was agitated. “Try to relax, Tsering. I’m nervous, too. But it’s really important that we do this. Do you want to practice one last time while we wait?”
“No,” was all Tsering could say in response. He was really worried he wasn’t going to be able to do it. Jennifer let it be and started to recite mantras. She prayed to Guru Rinpoche and to Tara. She had done everything she possibly could to get them this far. Their fate would be decided in just an hour or so later. It was in the Gods’ hands now.
“Mr. Phuntsok?” a male voice with an American accent called from the hallway entrance. Tsering had never been called this before so he had no idea he was being called. Phuntsok was Tsering’s second, or middle name. As it was the second name on all of his documentation, the Western assumption was that it was his surname, or family name. Tibetans did not have the practice of using their clan names, or family names, for documentation purposes. Jennifer looked up and saw a balding Indian man with a mustache standing in the hallway doorframe. She understood that Tsering was being called by this man because they were the only people in the waiting room. She made eye contact with the Consular who said to her, “Is this Mr. Phuntsok?” indicating Tsering.
“Yes, this is Tsering Phuntsok,” confirmed Jennifer, standing up and crossing the room to shake the man’s hand. “I’m Jennifer O’Neill, Tsering’s wife,” she said, introducing herself and Tsering who had followed Jennifer’s lead and also shook hands with the Consular.
“Pleased to meet you both. I am the Consular who will be conducting your interview this morning. Follow me back to my office. We can conduct the interview in there.” The Consular led them back to his office, Jennifer following first and Tsering behind. Jennifer turned around and gave Tsering a comforting glance for added confidence as if to say “You got this!” before they entered the Consular’s office.
“Please have a seat. I have your application here on my desk. I’ve reviewed it briefly, but why don’t you tell me a little about yourselves first so I can get to know you better. Let’s start with you, Tsering.” Tsering laughed nervously and adjusted himself in his chair. Jennifer could see that he was already choking up. Tsering opened his mouth but nothing came out. Jennifer jumped in for him.
“Tsering is still learning English, sir. I can answer any questions you have for him. I think he’s a little nervous.”
“Do you speak Tibetan?” the Consular asked Jennifer.
“A little bit. Not much. Tsering’s English is much better than my Tibetan.”
“Well, how do you two communicate, then? How can I believe that the two of you have a legitimate relationship if you can’t even speak the same language?””
“But we do. We understand each other. At first Tsering didn’t know any English. We were each other’s students. I was a student at the monastery in his Tibetan class and he was a student in my English class. Our rooms were adjacent to each other, so we were neighbors.”
“Monastery? You met in a monastery?”
“Yes, sir. I am a Buddhist and came here to India on pilgrimage with my Lamas. Tsering was a monk living and teaching at the monastery there.”
“Where is this monastery?”
“In Sarnath, sir. Varanasi.”
“Benares? You’ve been to Benares? It’s a very holy and ancient city,” the Consular seemed to be impressed.
“Yes, sir. A very sacred place indeed,” Jennifer agreed with the Consular and then continued on with her story. “At first we communicated with gestures and used a Tibetan-English dictionary a lot. Then we invented our own pigeon English/Tibetan form of communication that I guess only the two of us could understand. We had some kind of telepathic connection that made it work. But now after 6 months of friendship and 4 months of marriage, Tsering’s English is improving a lot. He’s just nervous today to speak to you because so much is at stake.”
“This is interesting. Show me. I would like to see how you talk to one another.”
Jennifer was confused by the Consular’s request. She felt like he was setting them up. “What should we talk about, sir?”
“I don’t know– anything. I want to see this ‘telepathic pigeon language’ that you two have invented in action!” he said with a touch of sarcasm in his voice. Jennifer hadn’t heard sarcasm in 6 months. She’d forgotten its biting effect. She knew this was not going well. Just then, to both Jennifer and the Consular’s surprise, Tsering suddenly piped in.
“I am Tibetan. I born here in India, in Clementown, Dheradun, house #203. My birthday is 10/10/1978. I have no parents. My mother and father died when I was young. I was monk in Sarnath. Then I met Jenni. She came from America to make pilgrimage here in India. She came with Lamas. I liked Jenni very much. She said she go back to America. But I don’t want her to leave. I like her too much. I give back my monk vows and tell Jenni I love her. She love me, too. We get married. Our marriage date is 4/4/2000. Now we come here to ask you for Immigration Visa. Please, sir, let me go to America with Jenni,” Tsering finished with his hands folded in prayer mudra at his heart. He was trembling with emotion, tears welling up in his eyes. The sincerity and courage it took for him to say all of this so clearly, lucidly and simply to the Consular, despite his fear of rejection and inadequacy about his English language skills impressed Jennifer deeply.
The Consular, however, seemed unimpressed with Tsering’s monologue. After a short moment of consideration, the Consular said, “All right, Tsering, I see that you can speak some English, or at least Jennifer prepared you well enough to memorize that little speech. But I’m still not convinced this is a legitimate relationship. I’ll give you one last chance to convince me. I would like you to write down on separate pieces of paper the exact date that you consummated your relationship. If both dates match, I will approve the application.”
Jennifer had heard stories of couples being asked personal questions at their immigration interviews, but this seemed absurd to her. “Excuse me? You expect both of us to remember the date we first were intimate with one another? That doesn’t seem fair! I am not a teenager who keeps a diary of her personal life with a date circled on my calendar!”
“It’s your last chance to prove to me that your relationship is legitimate. Take it or leave it. Here are two pieces of paper and two pens. When you are finished with your answers, hand them back to me and I’ll determine the outcome.”
“Can I at least explain to Tsering what you are asking of him? Tibetans function on a completely different calendar than us. Our dates won’t match! He follows the lunar calendar.”
“All right,” replied the Consular, “You can go ahead and explain to him. Let’s see if he can understand you.”
“Tsering-la. Do you understand what the Consular is asking us to do?”
“A little bit, Jenni. But not really. Can you tell me?” Tsering’s voice trembled as he spoke.
“He wants us to write down on these pieces of paper the date that we first were together– the calendar month and date that we made love the first time.” Tsering’s eyes just about popped out of his head when he understood what she was talking about. He couldn’t understand how this man could ask such a question. Jennifer knew that Tsering understood based on his reaction, but she didn’t want the Consular to know he understood. “It would be easier for me to explain this in Tibetan to him. May I?”
“Be my guest. Whatever works for you,” the Consular replied.
“Tsering-la, Dawa Sum-pa, Nyima Nyi-Chu Chik. Nga-tso ki yige chikpa re, yagpo duk. Hako song?” Jennifer spoke to Tsering in her fledgling Tibetan, telling him what date to write so that their answers would match. She was so thankful that she had memorized her numbers and could talk about dates in Tibetan. She had a very limited Tibetan vocabulary but thankfully she had remembered the months and days. “I’ve just explained to Tsering what you want us to do. He understands now,” Jennifer told the Consular, omitting the fact that she had just told Tsering what date to write down. They both wrote down their dates on the separate pieces of paper and once finished, handed them back to the Consular.
The Consular looked at the papers and then threw them into the waste basket at the side of his desk. While looking at them both in silence, he took up what appeared to be Tsering’s immigration application in his hands and tore it in two, down the middle from top to bottom. This simple gesture made Jennifer feel like a knife had stabbed her in the heart as she felt her whole future life with Tsering come crumbling to pieces in that single instant. She began to plead with the Consular, sobbing between breaths, “Please, sir. This is for real. We are not faking it. Tsering has given everything up for me. Everything. He spent his entire life in devotion and study of the Dharma as a simple Buddhist monk. He has no other eduction or job training to fall back on. If I leave to America he has nothing or nowhere to go. He can’t go back to the monastery. Don’t you see? This is for real. We love each other. Please, please, let him come to America with me. We’ve worked so hard to get this far. Do you know how hard it was to get him an international travel document as a member of the Tibetan refugee community? Do you know how many obstacles we’ve overcome to get here today? Please, don’t be the one who takes it all away from us. Our entire future life together is in your hands.”
The Consular did not say anything. He remained silent, taking in everything Jennifer had just said. Then, taking a stamper in his hand, he pressed the rubber onto the surface of an ink pad before breaking the tense silence by stamping a piece of paper with a thud. “Congratulations. You are approved,” he said as he turned the paper around and showed them Tsering’s actual immigration application with the stamp of approval on it.
Jennifer was stunned and confused, “But, I thought you tore his application up?!”
“No, that was just a test. I wanted you to believe that I had torn it up. I wanted to see your reaction. Your outpouring of emotion convinced me that you truly do love this simple Tibetan monk. No one could fake that.”
“And the dates? Did they match?”
“Yes, they actually did. It seems that you are correct about the your ability to communicate successfully with one another.” Jennifer was still reeling from the roller coaster ride of emotions the Consular had just sent her through. She looked at Tsering who seemed to be even more dazed and confused than she was.
“We did it, Tsering! You’re going to come to America with me!”
“Really?” Tsering worried that this was another trick being played by the Consular.
“Really. He stamped his approval on your application. It’s complete. We passed!” Tsering was still too nervous and stunned from the whole episode to share in Jennifer’s excitement. He was actually quite upset about the way the Consular had toyed with their emotions. He kept silent.
“So, I will pass on Tsering’s file for completion. His visa will be issued in around one month’s time. Where is his passport?”
“Oh, he is still waiting for it to be issued. There is a letter in his file from the Tibetan Office that explains he has been approved for one but that it won’t be issued until some time in late September.”
“In that case, just bring it in when he gets it and we will insert the Immigration Visa in it then. I must be getting on with my appointments for the day. Congratulations to you both. Good luck with your future life together in the US. It was a pleasure meeting you,” the Consular said, rising to stand.
“Thank you, sir. Thank you so much for listening to our story and approving Tsering’s application. We are so grateful.”
“No need to thank me, I am just doing my job. It is my duty to let only the honest ones get through.”
“Well, good-bye, then. Have a nice day,” Jennifer said as she started to exit the office.
“Thank you, thank you,” Tsering said to the Consular, bowing slightly from the waist out of habit and respect for authority. The couple left the Office and walked down the hall that led them back to the Lobby. Jennifer realized that she never had a chance to show the Consular their photos. She approached the woman behind the window who had greeted them earlier.
“Excuse me, I brought photos to share with the Consular during our interview but we never had a chance to show them. Should I leave them with you?”
“What was the outcome of your interview?” the woman asked.
“He was approved for immigration.”
“Well, then, they won’t be needed. I guess the Consular had enough evidence to make his decision without the photos. Congratulations!” Jennifer turned back to Tsering and they left the Embassy, passing by a photo portrait of President Clinton that hung on the wall on the way out.
“My new brother,” joked Tsering as he glanced at the photo of the silver haired man with the big red nose. Once back out in the Delhi mid-day heat, Jennifer suggested they go celebrate. They decided to splurge and go out for a fun day of diversion. Jennifer hailed a taxi and directed the driver to take them to Connaught Place. She had the idea to eat at the restaurant where she had gone with the Khenpo Rinpoches when she first arrived in India six months ago. After the fancy meal of India curries, naan, lassies, and tea served to them on fine porcelain with silver flatware and white linens, the couple strolled under the porticoes that lined the shops of Connaught Place which wrapped around a large traffic circle in the center.
The celebratory mood of the day sobered when Jennifer remembered that she was scheduled to fly home in just a few days. She had been so caught up in the drama of Tsering’s immigration visa that she had not given any time to prepare herself emotionally for the separation they were about to face. Since they first met 6 months ago, a day had not passed that Jennifer and Tsering did not see each other. She imagined that Tsering was even more unprepared for the emotional upheaval that would soon befall him as this was his first time in love. She had some past experience with love in previous relationships and knew the pain that comes along with the pleasure. Tsering was completely new to the world of love and attachment.
They spent their last few days together relishing the joy of each other’s company, going out only during the hottest hours of midday. Together they devised a plan for Tsering while Jennifer was away. He would take a bus to Dharamsala and find a room to rent there. He would find a tangkha teacher and continue to practice and study this sacred art. Jennifer had 15,000 rupees left in her backpack which she left with Tsering. She would return in 6 weeks time, so this money was twice as much as he would need to live on during that time. He promised to spend only the bare minimum on food and housing and that at least half of the money would be left upon her return. Occasionally Jennifer would start to cry when she thought about leaving Tsering. He couldn’t bear to see her suffer and begged her to stop crying, “Please, Jenni, don’t cry. I okay. You going to see family and go sister’s wedding. This is so happy. So wonderful. Don’t worry me.”
“I’m not worried about you, Tsering-la. I know you’ll be fine. I’m worried about how much I’m going to miss you! When I leave, my body might be going home to America, but my heart will be here with you! Six weeks is a long time. I’ll miss you so much,” she wept into his shoulder and he stroked her hair.
“Please, Jenni, no cry. We love each other. Six weeks no big deal. Be strong. I know so many Tibetan families separated for many years,” Jennifer was comforted by his rational words and calmed down.
“Thank you, Tsering-la,” she said, wiping her tears. “You’re right, six weeks is not that long. I’m going to leave you my mother’s phone number where I’ll be staying. Please promise to call me there as soon as you’re settled in Dharamsala. We’ll probably arrive around the same time. I’ll be flying into New York and staying with my Grandfather for a night before I drive to Boston to be with my Mom.” Jennifer wrote down some lines and coached Tsering on how speak on the phone in English and ask for her if she did not answer. She also thought it would be a good idea to set up an e-mail account for Tsering so they could send messages to each other. Tsering would be able to find a friend in Dharamsala who could translate and type for him while he dictated his messages. She took him to the internet cafe in Majnukatilla and set it up for him. They practiced sending each other messages for a few minutes on separate computers in the cafe. Tsering really enjoyed this new method of communication. He was thrilled to be using modern technology.
Jennifer’s departure date arrived. They stayed awake the entire night before her early morning flight, not wanting to waste a single moment in each other’s arms. Their friend Ngawang had arranged for a taxi to pick them up at 4:30 in the morning to take them to the New Delhi airport. The taxi arrived as scheduled and Tsering helped the driver load Jennifer’s luggage into the cab. The rest of Majnukatilla was fast asleep.
They arrived at the airport and as Tsering was not flying, he was not able to pass through security with Jennifer. She still had an extra hour before boarding, so after she had checked in they sat in the concourse together until it was time for her to leave. They both felt the wind in their sails leave as the reality of their separation started to sink in. Jennifer felt a lump form in her throat and a tightness in her chest. She did not want to let herself fall apart in the airport so she held herself together, reciting mantras and avoiding eye contact with Tsering. She knew if she looked him in the eyes she would surely lose control and the flood gates would open. Tsering suggested that they drink some tea to keep their spirits and energy up. He left to find a vendor. While he was away, Jennifer heard her flight being called for boarding. She wished she had not let him leave to fetch tea. She thought she should be holding him in her arms just one last time. After what felt like an eternity to Jennifer, Tsering returned with two cups of chai.
“Tsering-la. My flight is being called. It is time for me to go.”
“Please, Jenni, drink tea with me.” Jennifer sat back down and they sipped their chai together in silence. Once again, she heard her flight being called.
“Really, Tsering, it’s time. Oh God, why is this so hard? Why does a love that is so precious and dear cause so much pain when it is time to say good-bye?” The tears that Jennifer had been holding back this whole time finally erupted to the surface.
“No, Jenni. Not hard. You strong. You my strong American lady. My dakini! Go fly in the sky, Dakini!” Tsering’s words made Jennifer laugh and she wiped away her tears.
“Thank you, Tsering. Be safe. Be careful. Make sure to eat good food. Don’t worry about the money– spend it to take good care of yourself.”
“No worry me, love. I Tibetan. We strong, too! I paint tangkha for you while I wait you come back to me.”
“Oh that’s lovely, Tsering. Thank you. Please remember to call me as soon as you arrive in Dharamsala, okay?”
“I promise.” They kissed tenderly one last time before Jennifer proceeded to security. She showed her passport and boarding pass to the guard and looked back one more time for Tsering but he had already left to find a taxi back to Majnukatilla. Jennifer proceeded to the gate and boarded the plane, a Swiss Air flight that would take her to Zurich where she had a three hour layover before her second flight home to the States. She found her seat and quickly settled in, wrapping herself in her burgundy pashmina shawl for warmth and comfort. Exhausted from staying up all night and too emotionally spent to try to stay awake, she quickly fell asleep with her mala in hand and manis recited on her breath.
Tsering took a taxi back to Majnukatilla and returned to the room that he and Jennifer had shared for the past two weeks. He had planned to take a short nap to catch up on lost sleep from the night before but upon entering the empty room, he was suddenly and unexpectedly struck with a sense of loss like he had never experienced before. “What was this powerful emotion that made his heart ache with such deep longing?” he wondered to himself. He was so confused– with Jennifer by his side he had only known the highs of new love. She had warned him that the attachment of romantic love makes the heart ache when lovers are separated, but he did not have any reason to heed her warning. Now he was all too intensely aware of what she had meant. Alone and with no one to comfort him, Tsering faced these new emotions head on with no where to run. The burning sensation grew in his chest as he looked around the empty room and with no one there to judge him he allowed himself to collapse on the bed and weep. His sobs grew more frequent as exhaustion over came him and he fell asleep in a fetal position on the bed.
Jennifer’s airplane touched down in Zurich and even after sleeping through the entire seven hour flight, she was still dazed and confused from exhaustion. Her next flight was not for a few more hours so the gate had not been determined, yet. She would have to wait a couple more hours before the gate was posted and opened for check-in. She decided to find a few open seats in the lounge and take another short nap. She assumed she would wake in another hour or two in time for boarding.
Back in Majnukatilla, Tsering was woken by the sound of the alarm clock that Jennifer had purposely set for him. She knew he would fall asleep when he returned to the room and anticipated the need for a wake-up alarm so that he wouldn’t miss his bus to Dharmasala that evening. Tsering jumped up and felt closer to Jenni, knowing that she had so thoughtfully set the alarm for him. With a purpose to distract him, he left his lover’s woes behind him in the empty room. He carried his one bag and the kerosene cooking stove with him to the bus that was soon to depart for the Himalayan foothills.
Several hours later in Switzerland, Jennifer’s final flight was being called for boarding. She was fast asleep. Final boarding calls were made and the gate doors were shut. She was suddenly shocked into waking reality when her subconscious heard her name being called on the speaker system. “Passenger O’Neill, please report to Gate #21 immediately for departure.” In a half sleepwalking state, she jumped up and started to run, hoping that she was running in the right direction. She counted the gates as she passed them– 13, 14, 15.
“Thank God,” she thought to herself, “I’m heading in the right direction and not too far off.”
“Passenger O’Neill, this is your last call.” Just then Jennifer caught sight of Gate 21 and saw the Flight Attendant who was making the announcement.
“Hi– that’s me you’re paging. I’m here. Do I still have time to board?!” she said, showing her boarding pass and passport to the Attendant.
“Yes, you just made it by the skin of your teeth. The plane was just about to pull out when I asked them to try one more time to page you. You are lucky, Miss!” the flight attendant said as she pulled open the door to the gate for her.
“Thank you so much! I fell asleep and somehow managed to wake up when I heard your announcement.”
“You’re welcome. I’m glad I made that last page for you. Have a good flight. You have plenty of time to get more sleep now!” Jennifer walked down the jet bridge to the plane. Another flight attendant was waiting at the end of the bridge and quickly escorted Jennifer to her seat so that the plane could finally leave. Jennifer felt awfully embarrassed for making an entire international flight wait for her like this but was grateful, however, that they did. As she settled into her seat, she realized she was starving. She hadn’t eaten anything since that last cup of tea she shared with Tsering back in Delhi over ten hours ago. She remembered that she had some balep in her backpack that Tsering had packed for her. Tibetans never go on a trip without packing snacks for the journey. Jennifer’s heart and stomach were comforted by the taste of the Tibetan bread that her husband had provided for her.
Tsering’s bus arrived in Dharamsala uneventfully– as uneventfully as an Indian bus can in any case. It was early morning when the bus pulled to a stop at the top of the hill in Mcleod Ganj. Tsering deboarded the bus with his belongings in hand and realized it was too early in the morning to find a room, yet, so he decided to wait there in the square and watch the vendors set up their wares. The chai seller was setting up his stove. Tsering ordered a cup of chai from the old Indian man and while he waited for it to be prepared he watched the small village come to life. Elders were starting to greet the dawn as they made their way to do their daily kora routes around the Dalai Lama’s residence with prayer wheels in one hand and malas in the other, lips buzzing with the mantra of Chenrezig. Shopkeepers were lifting the metal gates to their storefronts and hanging samples of their merchandise in front of their shops. Amas offered Sang– burning juniper and cedar incense– to the deities in front and on top of their homes for purification and blessings. Tsering soaked in the familiar atmosphere and felt reassured to be in the company of his people. The chai vendor signaled to him that his tea was ready. After thanking and paying the vendor, Tsering offered a short silent food offering prayer to the Three Jewels before taking a sip of the sweet spiced tea. When he was finished with the tea he broke the clay cup on the ground beneath him as is Indian custom for the vendor to sweep up and recycle at the end of the day. He then started to walk through the market to inquire about finding a room for rent.
As luck would have it, Tsering happened to bump into an old friend just moments into his search. He immediately recognized the bright moon-shaped face of his friend Urgyen but was confused by his appearance. “Could Urgyen have given up his vows, too?!” Tsering thought to himself as he considered why Urgyen was wearing a tee-shirt and jeans instead of the noble red and saffron robes of a monk. Urgyen must have had the same reaction when he noticed a lay-clothed Tsering staring at him– the last time the friends had seen each other was in Nepal at the Dorje Phurba Drupchen with Phagchok Rinpoche and the Riwoche monks. Once the two friends had realized that they were indeed not mistaken, they laughed in disbelief at the coincidence of their meeting and circumstances. Urgyen invited Tsering to his room where they could take breakfast together. Urgyen had been on his way to buy some fresh balep and a thermos of butter tea from a restaurant when he bumped into Tsering.
Once back in Urgyen’s humble one-room basement accommodations, the two friends spent the entire morning drinking tea and catching up since they last saw each other in Nepal. They shared their stories and circumstances, confiding in one another only the way good friends can. It was so beneficial for Tsering to have found Urgyen at this time when he was feeling so alone. The cultural taboo of being an ex-monk was a heavy burden to carry, especially under the circumstances which Tsering had given back his vows. Urgyen was the perfect confidant with whom to share his deepest emotions. He was his countryman, a friend, a brother.
Tsering told Urgyen that he would be staying in Dharamsala for six weeks or so until Jennifer came back from America and that he was in need of a place to stay. Urgyen kindly invited Tsering to share his room with him. There were two beds in the room and Urgyen could use help paying the board. Tsering graciously accepted his friend’s offer and just like that he found his home in Dharamsala for the interim. The loneliness of separation from his love was subdued by the warm company of his good friend.
Meanwhile, Jennifer’s flight touched down at JFK in New York where her Grandfather was waiting for her in his Cherry Red Cadillac at the curbside. She passed through customs uneventfully and left the terminal. Just as planned, she saw the bright red flash of her Grandpa’s car amongst a sea of yellow cabs. Her Grandpa saw her exit the terminal and got out of the car to greet her. He smacked his dentures with relief to see her finally set foot on American soil after all this time. Jennifer gave him a big hug and then put her bags in the trunk. “Looks like you could stand to eat a few hundred cheeseburgers! Christ, did you eat anything while you lived over there?! You look like a native!” Jennifer’s Grandpa said with loving sarcasm. She had missed the old geezer. It felt good to be home.