In Timeless Voices, a documentary about the 1988 New York City concert appearance of a group of Tibetan monks, the camera lingers on a young monk named Sonam Dhargye. Dressed in ceremonial saffron and gold robes, he rocks forward on his knees at odd intervals, his eyes half closed as he leads the group in prayer. Despite the incongruous headset mike he’s wearing and the ponderous voice-over of narrator Martin Sheen, he’s a compelling presence.
In 1991 Sonam and 16 other monks came to the U.S. on a concert tour. The Chinese army had suppressed several peaceful demonstrations in Lhasa in the late 80s, launching a new exodus of Tibetans into Nepal and India, and the tour was intended to raise money for a new monastery to house the growing population of displaced monks as well as inform Westerners about the political situation in Tibet.
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Sonam had been to the U.S. twice before, first in 1985 on a small tour that caught the attention of Grateful Dead drummer Mickey Hart, who set up a last-minute concert in San Francisco for the monks. When a larger group returned in 1988 Hart put the entire Dead tour-support system at their disposal. The monks toured the country in a couple of vans, complete with roadie and manager, with stops all over California (including George Lucas’s Skywalker Ranch). They capped the tour with a concert at New York City’s Cathedral of Saint John the Divine that featured guest appearances by Hart, Philip Glass, and Kitaro. (In addition to the documentary, the concert was also recorded for a CD, Freedom Chants From the Roof of the World.)
Chris Panos, a trader at the Chicago Board of Trade and a Zen Buddhist, had contacted Schroeder to ask how he could help. She put him in charge of finding jobs for the immigrants. A few with some language skills even got entry-level jobs as runners at the Board of Trade. It was a bit of a culture shock, but Panos says, “They hit the ground running. Some hadn’t been through revolving doors or on escalators before, but they were unfazed.” The resettlement efforts eventually brought some 400 Tibetans to Chicago.
Tibet Cafe opened in June of 1996 in a small storefront down the street from the Sheridan el stop that ironically had been previously occupied by a Chinese restaurant. Sonam’s butter sculptures–which can last up to six months if handled carefully–hang on the walls, and one’s perched in the corner on top of the stereo. A portrait of the Dalai Lama draped with a kata–the traditional auspicious white scarf of greeting–hangs near the kitchen door. The cafe is one of only a handful of Tibetan restaurants in the country. Besides Tibet Kitchen, Sonam can think of maybe three others in the New York area, two in San Francisco, and two in Bloomington, Indiana, where the Dalai Lama’s brother lives.
To make butter tea, for example, he uses regular cow’s milk and butter mixed with Vietnamese tea when he can find it, or Lipton when he can’t. The menu also includes many tofu and vegetable dishes and hot, filling noodle soups.
When asked if it’s been strange making the leap from career monk to small businessman, Sonam is sanguine. “Parts of it are hard. First couple years, you know, is big difference. From Tibetan custom it is very embarrassing to not be monk. Some people, they don’t like. Because when you are monk they are totally respect to you. Because you are holy man. So if you break your vows, everybody they think ‘Oh no.’ But one good thing, when you are a monk and become Westerner–it’s a little strange but I don’t know how this happen. If I am monk, right, if I lose my monastery it is looking very bad. But when I come to Western country and then I lose my vows, people are thinking that’s OK. Because different country, different culture. They care, just not so much.
