“There is an uncommonly harsh beauty to the Tibetan landscape. Its nakedness makes it seem incapable of deception, but under its calm deportment it conceals winds so brutal that yaks are known to die while their jaws are in masticating… — Tsering Wangmo Dhompa Copy Share Image
“I have lived my life defined as a refugee in Nepal and India, a resident alien and immigrant in the United States. At last,… — Tsering Wangmo Dhompa Copy Share Image
“My mother showed her gratitude for her life in exile by alluding to India’s modernity: the expansive railway network; the Bollywood movies she came… — Tsering Wangmo Dhompa Copy Share Image
“Home, to me, was any place by my mother’s side. Since my mother’s death, the idea of home has assumed many forms. I use… — Tsering Wangmo Dhompa Copy Share Image
“She disciplined her memory to give up counting her losses. She gave her suffering one name: exile.” — Tsering Wangmo Dhompa Copy Share Image
“The young, he says, confuse desire with love, and they end up hurting everyone around them.” — Tsering Wangmo Dhompa Copy Share Image
“It is past eight. The hills before me are bathed in a gentle light that falls like sleep on weary eyes. Everything is soft… — Tsering Wangmo Dhompa Copy Share Image
“When I am with my mother’s people, I realize I have a lot to unlearn. I look to them to uncomplicated my notions of… — Tsering Wangmo Dhompa Copy Share Image
“We learn we cannot form deep roots because we do not have the right to place or citizenship, and because we do not have… — Tsering Wangmo Dhompa Copy Share Image
“How is it possible to protect your loved ones from old heartaches?” — Tsering Wangmo Dhompa Copy Share Image
“In towns, the nomads remain outsiders for a while. They become a class divorced from their occupation as herders. They are called drokpa in… — Tsering Wangmo Dhompa Copy Share Image
“This land makes me believe anything is possible. Here lies a gift unraveled as was meant to be: within its many folds are men,… — Tsering Wangmo Dhompa Copy Share Image
“Here in Tibet live the people my mother taught me to love before I met them. We are family, and love has undetermined aptitude… — Tsering Wangmo Dhompa Copy Share Image
