So I often don’t really know what I’m getting myself into when I agree to go to something with
someone, particularly when I agree to go to some event with a Tibetan who only speaks limited English. Often I think I know what I am agreeing to, but I am learning quickly that I often really don’t. However, it has so far always been not only an adventure, but a fun adventure to have such “miscommunications.”
So I knew I was going to an “Amdo Party,” but I really had no idea what that meant. I knew that it was down the mountain a ways, but had no idea how far or where. So I really had no idea what else either of those details meant. After an interesting taxi ride, we ended up in a “valley” of sorts that looked like the pictures of the Amdo region of Tibet (which was fitting for the “Amdo Party”). As we get closer I could see a huge tent and I assumed that’s where we were going. As we got closer the whole thing collapsed from the wind and rain. We quickly joined the huddle of people under rocks and blankets. People were shouting woohoo! Yippee! And all other kinds of encouraging phrases at the rain, including one particular man who shouted, “Come on! Is that all you’ve got?!” People were just laughing and having a great time huddled together, a few even running through the rain shouting praises. As the rain died down I realized there were still
people in the tent. A small child, who looked Tibetan from where I sat, popped out and said, “Mummy, do you think it’s going to stop now?” with a perfect English accent I might add. When all of this occurred within the first ten
minutes and I knew I was in for a treat.
So let’s start at the beginning with what an “Amdo Party” entailed, at least an “Amdo Party” in India, which included a few other guests not from Amdo. This party was almost all Tibetans from the Amdo region. The only exceptions seemed to be myself, an English woman (who married a Tibetan man more than 15 years ago, whom she had met in McLeod Ganj, India), and her two sons who were born in England (although they have half Amdo blood, so even they could in some ways). The place was chosen because it could at least remind them of aspects of Amdo. The party consisted of things we would often find at parties at home: tons of food, some alcohol, games being played, swimming, and lots and lots of chatting. But two particular moments were quite different, at least for me.
The first was the “talent game?” I’m not really sure what to call it, but the point of it was that eventually everyone had to embarrass themselves in front of everyone else. One man started by putting a kahta (white scarf, stole, shawl… whatever you choose to call it) around his neck and then he began to sing a traditional Tibetan song. After he finished he said a few things in Tibetan and then put the kahta around someone else’s neck. That person got a little shy and everyone clapped, cheered and seemed to be giving this new “kahta wearing” the encouragement (or pressure, depending on the way you look at it) to do as the previous man had and perform. It was quite a fun game to watch. Most people sang, and some for quite a bit, a few played instruments or danced, etc, but pretty much everyone sang. Many people, especially the women were very hesitant to go. The normal “name cheer,” or yelling the person’s name over and over (Tashi, Tashi, Tashi!), happened often, and persisted until the person finally got up the courage to go. Eventually, even I had to… and don’t ask how long it took to coax me into singing a song in front of everyone…
The second part was the water part. It’s normal to have swimming at parties right? And it’s even normal to have people thrown into the water. But what about EVERY single person at the party? And even if they had to chase them down through fields to get them in the water? Literally, and I mean literally, every single person at the party (and we’re talking probably at least… 50 people?) was caught, dragged, and thrown into the small body of water we had (which by the way, was some of the clearest water I’ve ever seen in India). It was an absolute ball watching grown men sneak around to capture those who were dry. They would get this sly smile on their face and they were running around just like the little kids. They even got the monk, who avoided them for quite a long time, into the water.
After they dunked the “inji” (foreigner in Tibetan) a Tibetan laughed and said, “Now you’ve been Christened!” I’m not exactly sure what he meant, but I almost felt like I could feel like I’d been “Christened a Tibetan partier” after these two party events took place.
Oh, and just in case we forgot we were in India, there was the giant water container? with Hindi script on it.