When Tendar Tsering was 12 years old, he left his family in Tibet. He traveled over a thousand miles and crossed the Himalayas to study in India. He has not seen his family since 1997
I could call my family in Tibet two times a year, but they couldn’t call me. There is no international outgoing call service in most of Tibet. It is a forbidden region.
Sometimes I could reach them. It took hours of trying over and over again. But most of the time, I heard: “Duibuqi, ni de dianhua buzai choe.” Your call is not reachable
Whenever we spoke on the phone, I sensed that both of my parents were living in agony and regret. My mother would often apologize to me for sending me away to an unknown country. She would always sob. Her tears reminded me that the pain in her heart was still an open wound. Knowing my tears would be like rubbing salt into her wound, I held them back. But often I cried in silence, lying on my bed, drowning myself with tears.
Since 2010, things have become different. In all those years when I couldn’t reach my parents on the phone, I never dreamed of the day we could do a video chat. Once we had free, cross-platform instant messaging applications, we were able to talk regularly. I told my family to seek training on how to go online. Then they could video chat with their long-lost son.
For days, I was glued to my bed. Soon my family and I would meet face-to-face via video chat. I combed my hair with my fingers. I washed my face. With my best clothes on, my laptop on my lap, I waited for my parents to come online.Read The Full Article