Once a year during Sakadawa, Tibetan culinary
conventions are reversed for the course of four weeks: Not eating
meat is the social norm and for a change, vegetarianism is self-understood.
Tomorrow will be the first day of the Tibetan Vesak. My grandma from A Tibetan Christmas used to live on
tea and buns during the whole month, and on tsepa 15, the day of
the full moon which falls on 13 June this year, she would rise before dawn to
take the eight Mahayana precepts. Except for the meal at noon which also
consisted of some tea and a bun, she would fast to turn her focus on the mind,
making the fasting become a prayer.
To observers it is often astonishing that there aren't
more "full-time vegetarians" beyond Sakadawa. Tibetans usually
explain it with the harsh highland climate, the historical lack of greens and
the environmentally imposed necessity to eat meat for physical strength, even
though that is bygone times: These days you can find any food in Tibet, with
plenty of greens and fruits not only imported from China, but also locally
grown. That hasn't weakened the traditional bias though that a meatless diet
weakens your health.
When we openly refused a food as children, we were
told, "In Africa they have nothing to eat, so be grateful and eat
up!" When we left food on our plates because we were full, we were told,
"Leaving food is sdigpa! Eat up!"
Miraculously enough, none of us had any food allergies
back then: "Gluten-free" or "lactose-intolerant" were
unknown adjectives and "vegetarian" sounded like an illness. I
for one have never been much of a carnivore from the start. It felt nauseating
to eat meat even when it came disguised as Momo, the Tibetan national dish
number one. The moment our parents left the dinner table, I would quickly
shovel the meat over onto my brother's plate. He would quietly pass me his Momo
wrappings and vegies.
My Amala would also have none of my
first attempts as a teenager to consciously stop eating meat. Her first
reaction was always, "You get sick if you don't eat meat!" But only
with the second argument did she haul out the really big guns: "Even Gyalwa
Rinpoche, who tried to subsist on a meatless diet, was forced to eat meat
again, because he became very frail, and the doctors ordered him to eat meat
again!"
The message was very clear: When even Tibet's
Avalokitesvara in person had to eat meat to sustain his human body, what was I
ordinary little mortal to think she could survive without?
Khyod sangsrgyas-las mkhaspar yodbas?
That was usually the end of my attempts to discontinue
a carnivorous diet. With the years I realised that the rhetorical question
"Do you presume you are smarter than the Enlightened One?" was an
effective method to discourage any attempt at trying something outside of the
social norm.
Only later did I learn that there are millions of
Indians, who voluntarily and healthily subsist on a vegetarian diet without the
slightest health deficits, and right under the Dalai Lama's nose, if I may
point out. Perhaps his cooks back then were not up to the latest
level of nutritional information? And if they were Tibetan, they maybe had the
same ingrained bias like my mother that a meatless diet makes you sick?
While Tibetans are generally fond of meat, I think
it's safe to say that the killing aspect haunts them and they sincerely rejoice
in everyone, who manages to live as a vegetarian. The Lama said, honestly
rejoicing in the wholesome actions of others is also a way to accumulate great
merit. In other words, the pensive carnivore might actually be in better karmic
shape than the proud vegetarian.
Some also point out though they eat meat, it comes
exclusively from big animals such as cattle, where one life taken lasts to feed
many; and not from small animals such as for example crabs, where many lives
would have to be taken to achieve the same effect. This can sound like an
excuse. The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. And perhaps it also is for
some, but according to Tibetan logic, a life weighs equal irrespective of size.
Therefore, while fully acknowledging that taking the life of any sentient being
is an unwholesome action, people tend to consider killing "only" big
animals for food, a mitigating circumstance.
A further distinction is made with only two-toed
"big animals" slaughtered. Meat from solidungulates such as horses is
a cultural no-go. A total no-go are fish, seafood and insects enjoyed in other
Buddhist countries such as Thailand. Traditionally, Tibetans haven't eaten
chicken either. So although the Tibetan diet is doubtlessly carnivorous, it is
indeed conservatively restricted to the meat of certain animals. Of course from
the standpoint of those "certain animals" that's still bad news, but
the goal to have a vegetarian world is unrealistic and from a Buddhist point of
view the vegetarian diet is not harm-free either since uncountable numbers of
insects die even in organic agriculture.
My oldest cousin in Tibet, who inherited the
farm where my dad was born, grows crops and keeps animals as most people in his
area. His work animals are mostly Dzo, a crossbreed between Yak and
cow used mainly for heavy-duty work such as ploughing fields or pulling
charges. His animals also have names which is indicative of something like a
personal relationship. Gü-ser ("Golden Back") is the
name of the animal he loves most because it is working the hardest. During a
leisurely walk through his fields where we caught up on what happened in our
lives since we last met, my cousin suddenly disclosed, "Aché, I
stopped eating beef. I cannot eat their flesh any longer when I see how hard
they labour side by side with us." Empathy had grown
in him.
Given that this relative is an upright Khampa, who are
the people capable of asking in all seriousness, "If you don't eat meat,
what do you eat?" this change of heart is truly
remarkable. But of course he still relishes pork. There is nothing that
beats phayul phaksha ("hometown pork") with loads of
fat. When we first came to this part of the highlands we were invited to many
homes. There was always a dish in a bowl made up of pure white cubes. The first
time, my mom thinking it is Liangfen stuck in her chopsticks and ate one. To
her horror it was solid pork fat, a local delicacy. Tibetans
love their tshilu. Some even affectionately call their sweetheart ngayi
snying-gi tshilu – "fat of my heart", woah!
My mom didn't give up preaching the beneficial
effects of a carnivorous diet long after I had become a big girl, married with
children and her own household. But now nearing my late grandma's
age, she is also immersing herself more into the Dharma and in parallel, her conviction
that not eating meat will make you sick, has been eroding. To my surprise I
heard her say the other day that there are so many other ways of getting your
protein, that eating meat was no longer a necessity.
The Lama could easily tell his devoted listeners to
stop eating meat in order not to contribute to the killing of animals. Most
would follow whatever he says without a second thought, faith runs deep. But he
doesn't give them the answer. Instead the Lama works out the animals' side,
explains their suffering, their stress and fear, and then leaves it up to
people to do their thinking and draw their conclusions, helping them to
strengthen their judgment and responsibility. And not only does he accord
people the freedom to act as they see fit, he also does not judge their
decisions: As long as behaviour remains ethical, he said, any
decision is okay. - Definitely more appealing than vegetarian fundamentalist
accusations in the style of "meat is murder!" or "don't ask me
why I am a vegetarian; ask yourself why you are not!"
With time my mom befriended many people in her Dharma
community, several of whom happen to be vegetarian. Seeing once is better than hearing
a thousand times. Through their simple personal example, she finally became
aware of her overestimation of the benefits of a carnivorous diet. As a result,
my mom now limits her own meat intake to once a week. Miracles happen! Being
the person my mother is she now found herself a new culinary Mantra:
"Eating meat once in a while won't harm you!"
Happy Sakadawa!
Mountain Phoenix Over Tibet
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