B1 · Intermediate
14 min
culturediasporageopoliticsreligionhuman rights
The Vote in Exile: Tibet, Identity, and Culture
El voto en el exilio: Tíbet, identidad y cultura
This week, Tibetans around the world voted to elect representatives to the parliament of the Tibetan government in exile. Fletcher and Octavio dig into Tibetan culture, the diaspora, and what it means to maintain an identity when you no longer have a country.
Esta semana, tibetanos en todo el mundo votaron para elegir representantes al parlamento del gobierno tibetano en el exilio. Fletcher y Octavio hablan sobre la cultura tibetana, la diáspora, y qué significa mantener una identidad cuando ya no tienes un país.
8 essential B1-level terms from this episode, with translations and example sentences in Spanish.
| Spanish | English | Example |
|---|---|---|
| exilio | exile | El Dalái Lama vive en el exilio desde 1959. |
| diáspora | diaspora | La diáspora tibetana vive en más de treinta países. |
| preservar | to preserve | Es muy difícil preservar un idioma cuando no puedes usarlo en tu propio país. |
| identidad | identity | La música y la religión son partes importantes de la identidad tibetana. |
| regresar | to return (with emotional weight) | Muchos exiliados quieren regresar a su país algún día. |
| sucesor | successor | El Dalái Lama va a elegir a su sucesor según la tradición tibetana. |
| prohibido | forbidden, banned | Las fotos del Dalái Lama están prohibidas en muchas partes del Tíbet. |
| tradición | tradition | Los tibetanos trabajan mucho para mantener sus tradiciones en el exilio. |
Last weekend, in community centers and living rooms and rented halls from Toronto to Tokyo, people voted.
Not for a government that controls any territory.
Not for a leader who can make a single law.
They voted for a parliament that exists, essentially, in the memory of a nation.
Sí, Fletcher.
Yes, Fletcher.
Los tibetanos en el exilio votaron esta semana para elegir representantes al parlamento de la Administración Central Tibetana.
Tibetans in exile voted this week to choose representatives for the parliament of the Central Tibetan Administration.
Es el gobierno tibetano en el exilio, y está en Dharamsala, India, desde hace muchos años.
It's the Tibetan government in exile, and it has been based in Dharamsala, India, for many decades.
Dharamsala.
Which I've never been to, but every journalist I know who has describes it as this strange, beautiful place, a Himalayan hill town that's somehow also become a second Lhasa.
Es exactamente eso.
That's exactly it.
Dharamsala tiene templos budistas, mercados tibetanos, escuelas donde los niños aprenden el idioma tibetano.
Dharamsala has Buddhist temples, Tibetan markets, schools where children learn the Tibetan language.
Para mucha gente de la diáspora, es el corazón cultural de su identidad.
For many people in the diaspora, it is the cultural heart of their identity.
And China, predictably, condemned the vote.
Called it illegal, called the CTA a separatist organization.
Which, I mean, they've been saying that for seventy years, so at least they're consistent.
Claro.
Of course.
Para China, el Tíbet es una parte de China desde siempre.
For China, Tibet has always been part of China.
Pero para los tibetanos en el exilio, el Tíbet es una nación con su propia historia, su propia religión y su propio idioma.
But for Tibetans in exile, Tibet is a nation with its own history, its own religion, and its own language.
Let's go back a bit.
Because I think a lot of listeners know the name the Dalai Lama, they know there's some kind of conflict, but the actual history of how Tibet ended up in this situation is more complicated than the bumper sticker version.
Bueno, en 1950, el ejército chino entró en el Tíbet.
Well, in 1950, the Chinese army entered Tibet.
En ese momento, el Tíbet tenía su propio gobierno, su propio líder religioso, el Dalái Lama, y su propia cultura.
At that time, Tibet had its own government, its own religious leader, the Dalai Lama, and its own culture.
China dijo que era una 'liberación', pero para los tibetanos fue una ocupación.
China called it a 'liberation,' but for Tibetans it was an occupation.
And then nine years later, 1959, the Dalai Lama fled.
He was twenty-three years old, and he crossed the Himalayas on foot to reach India.
That image has always struck me.
A head of state, a religious leader, escaping over a mountain range in the middle of winter.
Sí, y con él viajaron miles de tibetanos.
Yes, and thousands of Tibetans traveled with him.
Fueron a India, a Nepal, a Bután.
They went to India, Nepal, Bhutan.
Después, muchos fueron a Europa, a América del Norte, a Australia.
Later, many went to Europe, North America, Australia.
Hoy hay comunidades tibetanas en más de treinta países.
Today there are Tibetan communities in more than thirty countries.
Thirty countries.
And all of them voting this week for a parliament that has no army, no police force, no border control.
Which raises the question I kept turning over while I was reading about this: what does this parliament actually do?
Hace algo muy importante, Fletcher.
It does something very important, Fletcher.
Preserva la cultura.
It preserves the culture.
Organiza escuelas para los niños tibetanos.
It organizes schools for Tibetan children.
Protege la religión budista.
It protects the Buddhist religion.
Representa a los tibetanos ante gobiernos extranjeros.
It represents Tibetans before foreign governments.
No tiene poder militar, pero tiene poder cultural.
It has no military power, but it has cultural power.
Cultural power.
That phrase is doing a lot of work.
Because you could argue that's exactly what Tibet has managed to do that, say, dozens of other occupied or colonized cultures have not, which is maintain a distinct, recognizable identity across generations and across continents.
Es verdad.
That's true.
Y la religión es central en esto.
And religion is central to this.
El budismo tibetano no es solo una fe, es también una forma de vivir, de hablar, de organizar la sociedad.
Tibetan Buddhism is not just a faith;
Cuando los tibetanos practican su religión en el exilio, también preservan su idioma, su música, su arte.
it is also a way of living, of speaking, of organizing society.
I spent a few days in McLeod Ganj once, which is the upper part of Dharamsala where most of the Tibetan community lives, and I remember being struck by how alive it felt.
Monks in robes buying vegetables next to backpackers, prayer flags on every building.
It was not a museum.
No, exactamente.
No, exactly.
Y eso es muy importante, ¿no?
And that is very important, isn't it?
Muchas culturas en peligro se convierten en un museo, en algo del pasado.
Many endangered cultures become a museum, something from the past.
Pero la cultura tibetana en el exilio todavía vive.
But Tibetan culture in exile is still living.
Los jóvenes todavía aprenden el idioma.
Young people still learn the language.
Todavía escuchan la música tradicional.
They still listen to traditional music.
Though there's tension there too, right?
Because the diaspora has been outside Tibet for sixty-five years now.
There are Tibetans who were born in Switzerland, in Canada, in Australia, who have never set foot in Lhasa.
At some point the question becomes, whose Tibet are we preserving?
Es una pregunta muy difícil.
It is a very difficult question.
Mira, yo creo que la cultura siempre cambia.
Look, I think culture always changes.
El español que hablo yo en Madrid hoy es diferente del español del siglo dieciséis.
The Spanish I speak in Madrid today is different from the Spanish of the sixteenth century.
Eso no significa que no sea auténtico.
That does not mean it is not authentic.
La cultura tibetana en el exilio también cambia, pero sigue siendo tibetana.
Tibetan culture in exile also changes, but it remains Tibetan.
That's a fair point.
The counterargument would be that the Tibet inside China has also changed, enormously, under decades of Chinese policy.
Han migration, infrastructure development, restrictions on the language.
So you have these two versions of Tibet diverging from each other in real time.
Sí, y eso es muy triste.
Yes, and that is very sad.
Dentro del Tíbet, hay restricciones muy serias.
Inside Tibet, there are very serious restrictions.
Los tibetanos no pueden enseñar el idioma tibetano libremente en muchas escuelas.
Tibetans cannot freely teach the Tibetan language in many schools.
Los monjes tienen problemas con el gobierno chino.
Monks have problems with the Chinese government.
Las fotos del Dalái Lama están prohibidas.
Photos of the Dalai Lama are banned.
Photos of the Dalai Lama are banned.
In a country that is ostensibly his home.
And he's ninety years old now, which means this question of succession, of who becomes the next Dalai Lama, is not abstract.
It is urgent.
Esto es uno de los conflictos culturales más importantes del siglo veintiuno, Fletcher.
This is one of the most important cultural conflicts of the twenty-first century, Fletcher.
Porque el Dalái Lama dice que él va a elegir su sucesor según la tradición tibetana.
Because the Dalai Lama says he will choose his successor according to Tibetan tradition.
Pero China también quiere controlar quién es el próximo Dalái Lama.
But China also wants to control who the next Dalai Lama will be.
Which is extraordinary when you think about it.
A communist government attempting to appoint a reincarnated Buddhist monk.
The ideological contradiction is almost poetic.
Ja, sí.
Ha, yes.
Pero para China no es una contradicción, es una cuestión de poder político.
But for China it is not a contradiction, it is a matter of political power.
Si China controla al Dalái Lama, entonces controla también la religión tibetana, y eso es controlar la identidad tibetana.
If China controls the Dalai Lama, then it also controls the Tibetan religion, and that means controlling Tibetan identity.
And this is why the vote this week matters beyond the procedural.
Because the CTA is essentially the institutional container that keeps Tibetan political and cultural life alive outside China.
If that institution weakens, the next generation of the diaspora has less to hold onto.
Exacto.
Exactly.
Y hay otro problema.
And there is another problem.
Muchos tibetanos jóvenes en la diáspora hablan inglés, o francés, o alemán mejor que el tibetano.
Many young Tibetans in the diaspora speak English, or French, or German better than Tibetan.
Tienen pasaportes de otros países.
They have passports from other countries.
Para ellos, la identidad tibetana es importante, pero también tienen otras identidades.
For them, Tibetan identity is important, but they also have other identities.
The hyphenated identity problem.
Tibetan-Canadian, Tibetan-Swiss.
Which isn't unique to Tibetans, obviously.
Every diaspora community navigates this.
But the stakes feel different when the homeland itself is not freely accessible.
You can't go back and reconnect.
Es verdad.
That's true.
Y hay muchos tibetanos que intentan ir al Tíbet para visitar a su familia, y el gobierno chino les niega el visado, o los vigila mucho cuando están allí.
And there are many Tibetans who try to go to Tibet to visit their family, and the Chinese government denies them a visa, or watches them closely when they are there.
Para ellos, el Tíbet es un lugar que conocen de las historias de sus padres y abuelos.
For them, Tibet is a place they know only through the stories of their parents and grandparents.
I interviewed a Tibetan woman in London, years ago, when I was writing something else entirely.
She had a photograph of the Potala Palace on her wall, this enormous image, and she said her grandmother described every room from memory.
She herself had never seen it.
Eso es muy poderoso.
That is very powerful.
La memoria cultural pasa de generación en generación, incluso cuando no puedes volver al lugar físico.
Cultural memory passes from generation to generation, even when you cannot return to the physical place.
Eso pasa también con otras diásporas, ¿no?
That happens with other diasporas too, doesn't it?
Con los palestinos, con los armenios, con los judíos antes de 1948.
With Palestinians, with Armenians, with Jews before 1948.
That parallel to the Armenian diaspora is striking.
Because the Armenians also built a parallel cultural and political infrastructure in exile, in Los Angeles, in Paris, in Buenos Aires, that kept their identity intact across a century.
Some of that infrastructure eventually fed back into the independent Armenia of 1991.
Sí, y los tibetanos tienen esa misma esperanza.
Yes, and Tibetans have that same hope.
No sé si es realista.
I don't know if it is realistic.
China es mucho más grande y más poderosa que el Imperio Otomano.
China is much larger and more powerful than the Ottoman Empire.
Pero la esperanza existe.
But the hope exists.
Por eso votan.
That is why they vote.
Por eso construyen escuelas.
That is why they build schools.
Por eso enseñan el idioma a sus hijos.
That is why they teach the language to their children.
The vote itself, as a cultural act.
Not just as a political one.
You're voting for a parliament that can't govern your country, but the act of voting says: we still exist as a people.
We still have a collective will.
Exactamente, Fletcher.
Exactly, Fletcher.
Y hay algo más.
And there is something else.
Esta elección mostró que los tibetanos en el exilio todavía participan, todavía les importa.
This election showed that Tibetans in exile still participate, still care.
En algunas comunidades, la participación fue muy alta.
In some communities, turnout was very high.
Eso es importante porque significa que la identidad tibetana no está desapareciendo.
That is important because it means Tibetan identity is not disappearing.
Though I'd push back gently on one thing.
High turnout among people who actively choose to vote in a diaspora election may not be representative of the whole community.
The people who show up are probably already the most engaged.
The question of what the third generation feels, the kids who grew up in Switzerland and have only ever seen Tibet on a screen, that's harder to measure.
Tienes razón.
You are right.
Pero también hay que decir que los tibetanos jóvenes en la diáspora usan las redes sociales para conectar con otros tibetanos.
But it must also be said that young Tibetans in the diaspora use social media to connect with other Tibetans.
Tienen comunidades en Instagram, en TikTok.
They have communities on Instagram, on TikTok.
La cultura tibetana también existe en el mundo digital ahora.
Tibetan culture also exists in the digital world now.
Which is both remarkable and slightly melancholy, isn't it.
That a culture defined by mountain monasteries and centuries of isolated spiritual practice is now being partly preserved by short-form video.
The Dalai Lama is on Instagram, by the way.
Quite active.
Sí, lo sé.
Yes, I know.
[chuckle] Hay algo irónico en eso.
There is something ironic about that.
Pero si Instagram ayuda a los tibetanos jóvenes a sentir su identidad cultural, entonces está bien.
But if Instagram helps young Tibetans feel their cultural identity, then fine.
La tradición no tiene que ser rígida para ser auténtica.
Tradition does not have to be rigid to be authentic.
That might be the most generous thing you've ever said about the internet, Octavio.
No lo repitas.
Don't repeat that.
Oye, antes dijiste una cosa que quiero comentar.
Hey, you said something earlier that I want to comment on.
Dijiste que los tibetanos 'no pueden volver' al Tíbet.
You said that Tibetans 'can't go back' to Tibet.
Usé antes el verbo 'volver', pero también es posible decir 'regresar'.
I used the verb 'volver' earlier, but you can also say 'regresar.' They are almost synonyms, but there is a small difference.
Son casi sinónimos, pero hay una diferencia pequeña.
Wait, there's a difference between volver and regresar?
I always assumed they were completely interchangeable.
I've definitely used them that way and nobody corrected me, which now worries me.
Los dos significan 'to go back' o 'to return', sí.
'Volver' and 'regresar' both mean 'to go back' or 'to return,' yes.
Pero 'volver' es más del lenguaje cotidiano, más informal.
But 'volver' is more everyday language, more informal.
'Volver a casa', 'volver al trabajo'.
'Volver a casa,' 'volver al trabajo.' 'Regresar' has a slightly more formal or literary tone.
'Regresar' tiene un tono un poco más formal o literario.
In a romantic song, you'd say 'regresa a mí,' not 'vuelve a mí'...
En una canción romántica, dices 'regresa a mí', no 'vuelve a mí'...
well, sometimes both work, but 'regresar' sounds more elegant.
bueno, a veces los dos funcionan, pero 'regresar' suena más elegante.
So if I'm a Tibetan exile thinking about your homeland, you'd probably reach for regresar.
It carries more weight.
More longing.
Exacto.
Exactly.
'Queremos regresar al Tíbet' es más poético, más cargado de emoción que 'queremos volver al Tíbet'.
'Queremos regresar al Tíbet' is more poetic, more emotionally loaded than 'queremos volver al Tíbet.' Both are correct, but the first says something more about how the person feels.
Los dos son correctos, pero el primero dice algo más sobre cómo se siente la persona.
Writers always choose 'regresar' for important moments.
Los escritores siempre elegimos 'regresar' para momentos importantes.
I like that.
The choice of verb as an emotional signal.
That's actually something I think about in English too, the difference between 'return' and 'go back.' 'Return' has a gravity that 'go back' doesn't.
Sounds like the same instinct.
Sí, exactamente.
Yes, exactly.
Y fíjate que en español, 'regresar' viene del latín 'regredi', que significa moverse hacia atrás.
And notice that in Spanish, 'regresar' comes from the Latin 'regredi,' which means to move backwards.
Es un movimiento físico y también emocional al mismo tiempo.
It is a physical movement and also an emotional one at the same time.
Eso es lo que hace especial al español, ¿no?
That is what makes Spanish special, isn't it?
Muchas palabras tienen esa historia dentro.
Many words have that history inside them.
A movement backwards.
Which for the Tibetan diaspora is also a movement forward, toward a future they're still trying to imagine.
I think we could do a whole episode just on that.
But for now, thank you.
This one genuinely moved me.
A mí también.
Me too.
Es una historia sobre cultura, sobre identidad, sobre lo que los seres humanos hacen para no olvidar quiénes son.
It is a story about culture, about identity, about what human beings do to not forget who they are.
Eso siempre es importante.
That is always important.
Hasta la próxima, Fletcher.
Until next time, Fletcher.