While discussing Tibet and Tibetans, it is rarely recognized that they are highly skilled traders. The city of Lhasa, the grand Potala Palace, and all the fabulous gumpas could only have been built from the profits of trade. Monks don't make money.
I recall visiting the old town of Bageshwar in the upper Kumaon some years ago. The owner of the extremely old ayurvedic establishment told me that traditionally his ancestors bought medicinal ingredients from Tibetans whose caravans came calling from across the high mountains. They then prepared their mixtures and sold them in the cities of the plains. All this trade stopped after nation-states sealed the borders – causing the old market in Bageshwar, and its ayurveds, to go into terminal decline.
Tibetan refugees in India have more or less taken over the street trade in woolen sweaters. A Tibetan libertarian told me their modus operandi: each trader invests 1 lakh rupees with a Ludhiana manufacturer of woolens – and picks up 2 lakhs worth of goods: this credit is based on personal trust. He then spends the winter selling his wares. Then the profits are counted, the outstandings repaid – and it is back home in Dharamsala for the hot summer.
Other Tibetan traders have made 'momo' (their meaty dumplings) a household word in much of India. It is extremely unfortunate that Gandhian restrictions in India have prohibited Tibetans from doing the same with chhung – their traditional beer. No Tibetan I know campaigns for their right to brew and sell this healthy traditional drink in India. In Chinese Tibet, I am confident, chhung must be freely available.
The conclusion: Tibetans are economically repressed in India. China may be worse in some ways, but India is not too great a place for them either.
This conclusion was reinforced when I visited the other Tibetan settlement in India: Kushalnagar in Karnataka. The Namdroling Monastery with its domes of pure gold was stunning. But I was horrified to discover that the refugees had been divided into 4 or 5 separate camps, each a considerable distance from the other: see map.
Naturally, a big town with all its attendant businesses could not come up. There are vast spaces all around, but the refugees are not allowed to use them. Kushalnagar has been designed to keep the refugees poor.
I spent the night in a small hotel in one of the larger camps. It was run by a friendly Tibetan matron. I inquired after momos – and got them – but was told that chhung was banned. In the only bar there, some distance away from the camp, I drank some IMFL rum – and found many Tibetan men doing the same.
In my book, Tibetans in India should be treated exactly as the kings of Gujarat treated the Parsees when they fled Iran and took refuge there. The Parsees were skilled traders; they immediately struck roots; and even produced a JRD Tata: pioneer aviator and globally respected businessman.
If the Tibetans in India are given the same freedoms that the Parsees got those centuries ago, I am confident that very successful businessmen will arise from their ranks too.
I recall visiting the old town of Bageshwar in the upper Kumaon some years ago. The owner of the extremely old ayurvedic establishment told me that traditionally his ancestors bought medicinal ingredients from Tibetans whose caravans came calling from across the high mountains. They then prepared their mixtures and sold them in the cities of the plains. All this trade stopped after nation-states sealed the borders – causing the old market in Bageshwar, and its ayurveds, to go into terminal decline.
Tibetan refugees in India have more or less taken over the street trade in woolen sweaters. A Tibetan libertarian told me their modus operandi: each trader invests 1 lakh rupees with a Ludhiana manufacturer of woolens – and picks up 2 lakhs worth of goods: this credit is based on personal trust. He then spends the winter selling his wares. Then the profits are counted, the outstandings repaid – and it is back home in Dharamsala for the hot summer.
Other Tibetan traders have made 'momo' (their meaty dumplings) a household word in much of India. It is extremely unfortunate that Gandhian restrictions in India have prohibited Tibetans from doing the same with chhung – their traditional beer. No Tibetan I know campaigns for their right to brew and sell this healthy traditional drink in India. In Chinese Tibet, I am confident, chhung must be freely available.
The conclusion: Tibetans are economically repressed in India. China may be worse in some ways, but India is not too great a place for them either.
This conclusion was reinforced when I visited the other Tibetan settlement in India: Kushalnagar in Karnataka. The Namdroling Monastery with its domes of pure gold was stunning. But I was horrified to discover that the refugees had been divided into 4 or 5 separate camps, each a considerable distance from the other: see map.
Naturally, a big town with all its attendant businesses could not come up. There are vast spaces all around, but the refugees are not allowed to use them. Kushalnagar has been designed to keep the refugees poor.
I spent the night in a small hotel in one of the larger camps. It was run by a friendly Tibetan matron. I inquired after momos – and got them – but was told that chhung was banned. In the only bar there, some distance away from the camp, I drank some IMFL rum – and found many Tibetan men doing the same.
In my book, Tibetans in India should be treated exactly as the kings of Gujarat treated the Parsees when they fled Iran and took refuge there. The Parsees were skilled traders; they immediately struck roots; and even produced a JRD Tata: pioneer aviator and globally respected businessman.
If the Tibetans in India are given the same freedoms that the Parsees got those centuries ago, I am confident that very successful businessmen will arise from their ranks too.
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