By Li Xiaoqiong (Drolma)
Li Xiaoqiong (Drolma), a Namuyi Tibetan from Liangshan Yi independent Prefecture, Sichuan Province describes her formative years; mom and dad; paternal grandmother's adolescence and loss of life; village lifestyles together with kid's video games, tending horses, and herding yaks; her studies at basic college; a surrogate grandfather; her youngest brother; neighborhood lunar New 12 months festivities; her time at heart institution together with a unique good friend and love letters; her education at Qinghai common collage in Xining urban; her time in India together with university studies, travels, operating in an NGO, and dealing at a choice middle in Delhi; and her go back to China. additionally integrated are unique poems, 3 tales by means of Li Xiaoqiong's grandmother, and pictures of Li Xiaoqiong's village and of her time in India.
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Additional info for A Namuyi Tibetan Woman's Journey from Chinese Village to Indian City to Beijing
Time crept by even more slowly. 50 2012. Two of my cousins wear Yi clothing (Li Xiaoqiong). 51 FAKE GRANDFATHER A NEW GRANDFATHER A fter Grandmother passed away, I smiled at the sky whenever I felt unhappy, hoping that Grandmother would see me. This encouraged me. My paternal grandfather and my mother's parents died before I came to this world. Now the only grandparent I knew had left me and gone to Heaven. I felt somewhat abandoned. After Grandmother died, nobody in my family had time to tell me stories.
This pleased my parents. Yi, Han, and Namuyi students studied together. We learned Yi writing, reading, and speaking, but most classes were in Chinese. Today, I can speak Yi, Chinese, Namuyi and English. This has since made it easier for me to learn new languages. 61 NEW YEAR F ive days before the New Year, all family members return home, unless they are very far away and cannot return. We have many Han neighbors. During the New Year, we join each other's celebrations, visiting each other's homes.
I just shook the pot and made sounds like a horse. Within five minutes she would be in front of me, munching the barley inside the pot. My life was really happy when I was with Lao Ma. Days passed and became years. Lao Ma and I never separated. However, nothing is constant. Time moves on and there isn't anything we can do about that. Lao Ma grew older and weaker. I started to worry about her, but my love for her never changed. One cold, rainy day, the village was wrapped in silence. Villagers were in their houses huddled around a warm fire.
A Namuyi Tibetan Woman's Journey from Chinese Village to Indian City to Beijing by Li Xiaoqiong (Drolma)