LIFE IN THE MONASTERIES
Before I left the monastery the Lamas asked me many questions about
India and concerning medicine. They also questioned me as to whether I
had heard that a young Englishman had crossed over the frontier with a
large army, which the Jong Pen of Taklakot had defeated, beheading the
leader and the principal members of the expedition.
I professed to be ignorant of these facts. I was amused at the casual
way in which the Jong Pen of Taklakot had disposed of the bear-skin
before he had even caught the bear. The Lamas mistook me for a Hindoo
doctor, owing to the color of my face, which was sunburnt, and had long
remained unwashed. I wore no disguise. They thought that I was on a
pilgrimage round the Mansarowar Lake. They appeared anxious to know
whether illnesses were cured by occult science in India, or by medicine
only. I, who, on the other hand, was more interested in getting
information than in giving it, turned the conversation on the Lamas
themselves.
There are sects of red, yellow, white, and black Lamas. The red ones are
the older and more numerous throughout the country. Next to them come
the yellow Lamas, the _Gelupkas_, equally powerful in political and
religious matters, but not quite so numerous. The white Lamas and the
black Lamas, the _Julinba_, are the craftsmen in the monasteries. They
do the painting, printing, pottery, and the ornamentation of temples,
besides attending on the other Lamas and making themselves useful in the
capacities of cooks, shepherds, water-carriers, writers, and last, but
not least, executioners. The Lamaseries are usually rich. The Tibetans
are a deeply devout race, and the Lamas are not backward in extorting
money, under pretences of all kinds, from the ignorant worshippers.
Besides attending to their religious functions, the Lamas are traders.
They carry on a brisk money-lending business, charging a high interest,
which falls due every month. If this should remain unpaid, all the
property of the borrower is seized, and if insufficient to repay the
loan the debtor himself becomes a slave of the monastery. The well-fed
countenances of the Lamas are, with few exceptions, evident proof that
notwithstanding their occasional bodily privations, they do not allow
themselves to suffer in any way. They lead a smooth and comfortable
existence of comparative luxury.
The larger Lamaseries receive a yearly Government allowance.
Considerable sums are collected from offerings of the faithful, and
other moneys are obtained in all sorts of ways which, in any country
less religious than Tibet, would be considered dishonorable and even
criminal. In Tibet it is well known that, except in the larger towns,
nearly all people, excluding brigands and Lamas, are poor, while the
monks and their agents thrive on the fat of the land. The masses are
maintained in complete ignorance. Seldom is a layman found who can read
or write.
The Lamaseries and the Lamas, as well as the land and property belonging
to them, are absolutely free from all taxes and dues. Each Lama and
novice is supported for life, and receives an allowance of _tsamba_,
bricks of tea, and salt. The Lamas are recruited from all ranks. Honest
folks, murderers, thieves, swindlers--all are eagerly welcomed in
joining the brotherhood. One or two male members of each family in Tibet
take monastic orders, and thus the monks obtain a powerful influence
over each house or tent-hold. It is hardly an exaggeration to say that
in Tibet half the members of the male population are Lamas.
In each monastery are found Lamas, Chibbis,[7] and a lower grade of
ignorant and depraved Lamas--slaves, as it were, of the higher Lamas.
The latter dress, and have clean-shaven heads like their superiors. They
do all the handiwork of the monastery; but they are mere servants, and
take no direct, active part in the politics of the Lama Government. The
Chibbis are novices. They enter the Lamasery when young, and remain
students for many years. They are constantly under the teaching and
supervision of the older ones. Confession is practised, from inferior to
superior. After undergoing successfully several examinations, a Chibbi
becomes a Lama, which word translated means "high-priest." These Chibbis
take minor parts in the strange religious ceremonies in which the Lamas,
disguised in skins and ghastly masks, sing and dance with extraordinary
contortions to the accompaniment of weird music of bells, horns, flutes,
cymbals, and drums.
Each large monastery has at its head a Grand Lama, not to be confounded
with the Dalai Lama of Lhassa, who is believed, or rather supposed, to
have an immortal soul transmigrating from one body into another.
The Lamas eat, drink, and sleep together in the monastery, with the
exception of the Grand Lama, who has a room to himself. For one "moon"
in every twelve they observe a strict seclusion, which they devote to
praying. During that time they are not allowed to speak. They fast for
twenty-four hours at a time, with only water and butter-tea, eating on
fast-days only sufficient food to remain alive, and depriving themselves
of everything else, including snuff and spitting--the two most common
habits among Tibetan men.
The Lamas have great pretensions to infallibility, and on account of
this they claim, and obtain, the veneration of the people, by whom they
are supported, fed, and clothed. I found the Lamas, as a rule,
intelligent, but inhuman, even barbarously cruel and dishonorable. This
was not my own experience alone. I heard the same from the overridden
natives, who wished for nothing better than a chance to shake off their
yoke.
Availing themselves of the absolute ignorance in which they succeed in
keeping the people, the Lamas practise to a great extent strange arts,
by which they profess to cure illnesses, discover murders and thefts,
stop rivers from flowing, and bring storms about at a moment's notice.
Certain ceremonies, they say, drive away the evil spirits that cause
disease. The Lamas are adepts at hypnotic experiments, by which means
they contrive to let the subjects under their influence see many things
which are not there in reality. To this power are due the frequent
reports of apparitions of Buddha, seen generally by single individuals,
and the visions of demons, the accounts of which terrify the
simple-minded natives. Rather than get more closely acquainted with
these evil spirits the ignorant pay the monastery whatever little cash
they may possess.
Mesmerism plays an important part in the weird Lama dances, which show
the strangest kind of movements and attitudes. The dancer finally falls
into a cataleptic state, and remains rigid, as if dead, for a long time.
The larger Lamaseries support one or more Lama sculptors, who travel to
the most inaccessible spots in the district, in order to carve on
cliffs, rocks, stones, or on pieces of horn, the everlasting
inscription, "_Omne mani padme hun_," which one sees all over the
country.
Weird and picturesque places, such as the highest points on mountain
passes, gigantic bowlders, rocks near the sources of rivers, or any spot
where a _mani_ wall exists, are the places most generally selected by
these artists upon which to engrave the magic words alluding to the
reincarnation of Buddha from a lotus flower.
The prayer-wheels, those mechanical contrivances by which the Tibetans
pray to their god by means of water, wind, and hand power, are also
manufactured by Lama artists. The larger ones, moved by water, are
constructed by the side of, or over, a stream. The huge cylinders on
which the entire Tibetan prayer-book is inscribed are revolved by the
flowing water. The prayers moved by wind-power are merely long strips of
cloth on which prayers are often printed. As long as there is motion
there is prayer, say the Tibetans, so these strips of cloth are left to
flap in the wind. The small prayer-wheels, revolved by hand, are of two
different kinds, and are made either of silver or copper. Those for home
use are cylinders about six inches high. Inside these revolve on pivots
the rolls of prayers which, by means of a projecting knob above the
machine, the worshipper sets in motion. The prayers can be seen
revolving inside through a square opening in the cylinder. The
prayer-wheel in every-day use in Tibet is usually constructed of copper,
sometimes of brass, and frequently entirely, or partly, of silver. The
cylinder has two movable lids, between which the prayer-roll fits
tightly. A handle with an iron rod is passed through the centre of the
cylinder and roll, and is kept in its place by means of a knob. A ring,
encircling the cylinder, is attached to a short hanging chain and
weight. This, when started by a jerk of the hand, gives the wheel a
rotatory movement, which must, according to rule, be from left to right.
The words "_Omne mani padme hun_," or simply "_Mani, mani_," are
repeated while the wheel is in motion.
The more ancient wheels have prayers written by hand instead of being
printed. Charms, such as rings of malachite, jade, bone, or silver, are
often attached to the weight and chain by which the rotatory movement
is given to the wheel. These praying-machines are found in every
Tibetan family. Every Lama possesses one. They are kept jealously, and
it is difficult for strangers to purchase the genuine ones.
Besides the rosary, which is used as with the Roman Catholics, one
prayer for each bead, the Lamas have a brass instrument which they twist
between the palms of their hands while saying prayers. It is from two
and a half to three inches long, and is rounded so as to be easily held
in the hollow of the two hands.
In Tibet, as in other Buddhist countries, there are nunneries as well as
Lamaseries. The nuns, most unattractive in themselves, shave their
heads, and practise witchcraft and magic, just as the Lamas do. They are
looked down upon by the masses. In some of these nunneries strict
confinement is actually enforced. The women of the nunneries are quite
as immoral as their brethren of the Lamaseries, and at their best they
are but a low type of humanity.
The only Lamas who, at certain periods of the year, are legally allowed
an unusual amount of freedom with women, are those who practise the art
of making musical instruments and eating-vessels out of human bones. The
skull is used for making drinking-cups, _tsamba_ bowls, and single and
double drums. The bone of the upper arm, thigh-bone, and shin-bone are
turned into trumpets and pipes. These particular Lamas are said to
relish human blood, which they drink out of the cups made from men's
skulls.
When I left the Gomba--my new friends, the Lamas, bowing down to the
ground as I departed--I walked about the village to examine all there
was to be seen.
Along the water's edge at the east end of the village stood in a row a
number of tumbling-down Choktens of mud and stone. These structures
consisted of a square base surmounted by a moulding, and an upper
decoration in ledges, topped by a cylindrical column. Each was supposed
to contain a piece of bone, cloth, or metal, and books or parts of them,
that had once belonged to a great man or a saint. Roughly drawn images
were occasionally found in them. In rare cases, when cremation had been
applied, the ashes were collected in a small earthenware urn and
deposited in one of the Choktens. The ashes were made into a paste with
clay, and then flattened into a medallion on which a representation of
Buddha was either stamped from a mould or engraved with a pointed tool.
The interior of the houses at Tucker was no better than the outside.
Each habitation had a walled court-yard. The top of the wall, as well as
the edge of the flat roof of the house, was lined with masses of
tamarisk for fuel. In the court-yard sheep and goats were penned at
night. The human beings who occupied the rooms were dirty beyond all
description. There were hundreds of flying-prayers over the monastery,
as well as over each house. The people, laughing and chatting, stood on
the roofs watching us.
While I was strolling about some fifty or sixty men armed with
matchlocks and swords appeared on the scene. I looked upon them with
suspicion, but Kachi reassured me, and said they were not soldiers, but
a powerful band of robbers encamped about half a mile off, and on
friendly terms with the Lamas. As a precaution I loaded my rifle. This
was quite sufficient to cause a stampede of the armed crowd, followed,
in the panic, by all the other villagers who had collected round us.
Like all Tibetans, they were a miserable lot, though powerfully built
and with plenty of bluster about them.
Early in the morning I had made inquiries about provisions, and had
arranged for the purchase of two fat sheep and some four hundred and
fifty pounds of food--flour, rice, _tsamba_, _ghur_ (sweet paste),
sugar, salt, and butter. Several Tibetans stated they could supply me
with any quantity I required. Among others was a Shoka trader from
Buddhi, who promised to bring me, within an hour, a sufficient quantity
of food to last us ten men twenty-five days. I noticed, when these men
left, that two of my Shokas ran after them, and entered into an excited
discussion with them. Some two or three hours later the traders
returned, swearing that not an ounce of food could be obtained in the
place. The way in which these men could lie was marvellous. I
reprimanded my Shokas, threatening to punish them severely if my
suspicions of their treachery proved to be well founded.
The Shokas, finding themselves discovered, and through fear of the
Tibetans, were now again demoralized. It was no use keeping them by
force, and I decided to discharge them. From the moment I had entered
the forbidden country I had been compelled to protect myself against
them quite as much as against the Tibetans. I reflected, however, when
I made up my mind to let them go, that these fellows had stood for my
sake hardships and privations which few men could stand. In paying them
off I therefore rewarded them suitably, and in their gratitude they
undertook to bring back safely across the frontier part of my baggage
containing photographs, ethnological collections, etc. This promise was
duly fulfilled. With infinite trouble I then managed to purchase enough
provisions to last five men ten days.
The whole party accompanied me three and a quarter miles farther, where
in sight of the tumbling-down Panku Gomba, a mile to the west of us, we
halted in order to make the necessary arrangements for our parting,
unseen by the Tibetans. I took observations for latitude and longitude.
The water of the hypsometrical apparatus boiled at 185 deg. Fahrenheit,
fifty feet above the level of the lake, the temperature of the air being
76 deg. and the hour 10 A.M.
We could see a high snowy chain to the south of us, extending
approximately from south-west to north-east, starting from the Nimo
Namzil peak.
When everything was ready the five Shokas, including Kachi and Dola,
left me, swearing by the sun and all that they held most sacred that
they would in no way betray me to the Tibetans.
Bijesing the Johari and Nattoo agreed to accompany me as far as the
Maium Pass, so that my party, including myself, now was reduced to only
five men.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 7: _Chibbis_--also frequently pronounced _Chabis_.]