As a general rule, members of the media — nagged by deadline
pressure — aren’t the most patient people.
I know that rule applies to me, and it seemed to apply to other
members of the local and national press waiting for the Dalai Lama to
arrive at a question-and-answer session at the National Civil Rights
Museum last week.
The Dalai Lama was in Memphis to accept the museum’s International
Freedom Award for his role in protecting and defending the rights of
the Tibetan people. While His Holiness was led on a tour of the museum,
we waited impatiently in a cold auditorium for more than two hours.
But all the tension in the room lifted when the bespectacled, bald
monk made his way down the aisle, flanked on all sides by stern men in
black suits. I was sitting on the end of an aisle, and as he walked by,
the Dalai Lama lightly touched my shoulder.
The aged holy man, his translator, and National Civil Rights Museum
chairman Benjamin Hooks took a seat behind a folding table. Cameras
clicked, and flash bulbs popped. After a brief opening statement, he
opened the floor to questions.
A technology writer from San Francisco asked the Dalai Lama how
social media, such as Twitter and Facebook, could help spread peace and
harmony. A puzzled look crossed the Dalai Lama’s face, and he admitted
to not knowing anything about Twitter.
But he did take the opportunity to address the media about the
importance of its watchdog role: “Media people should have a long nose.
Media people should smell in front and also behind,” said the Dalai
Lama, as members of the press erupted in laughter. “Media should have
full freedom to find out what is going on.”
Throughout the session, I had a hard time understanding the Dalai
Lama’s accent, but I knew when he was cracking a joke. A grin would
spread across his face, causing everyone to laugh whether they
understood him or not. He even made a quip about former President
George W. Bush.
“It’s no secret. I loved President Bush. He was a very
straight-forward person,” said the Dalai Lama, as several media folks
groaned. “Now his policies … I have some great reservations about
that.”
When the session was over, the Dalai Lama rose from his chair to
leave. Several people reached out to shake his hand as he passed down
the aisle.
I held back. But the Dalai Lama made eye contact with me and reached
out and wiggled my silver lip stud, similar to how a grandfather might
react to his granddaughter’s lip piercing. He chuckled aloud, as did
everyone else in the room, and continued out the door.
If I learned anything from my brief encounter with His Holiness, it
was the virtue of patience. Suddenly, that morning’s two-hour wait
seemed worth every minute.
