My friend Max Hirsch has been covering the aftermath of Typhoon Morakot in Taiwan, including the contentious visit by the Dalai Lama. He sent out the following story yesterday to personal friends and family, posted here with permission:

[snip]
(As some of you may know, the Dalai Lama is in Taiwan on a controversial trip from late Sunday to this Friday and I’m covering his visit [see my story]..)

Today, I returned with my Kyodo News colleagues to Shiaolin Village, the southern town that was wiped out on Aug. 8 by a typhoon-triggered mudslide… Some 500 people were buried beneath roughly 5 stories of mud or swept away or torn to pieces by the violent landslide. Needless to say, it’s a very emotional place. The towering peak next to what was once a picturesque rural village has been completely defaced — the whole side of the mountain sloughed off and buried everything beneath. Very sad.

Back to the scene of nature’s crime, I was assigned to sit in the hot sun and try to shoot a good pic of His Holiness as he prayed for the dead on a warped, twisted road overlooking where Shiaolin once stood. I waited and waited. I was completely soaked in sweat, it was so hot. Then the Dalai Lama showed up. Standing about 6 feet away from His Holiness, I couldn’t even see him because he was surrounded by security personnel. I was very hot and flustered and frustrated ‘cause I couldn’t get a shot of him or ask him any questions or even hear what he was saying on the portable PA system. The night before, I also failed to get close to him as he arrived at the train station near Shiaolin for the same reasons.

But then at the end, I had a feeling that if I were to just press against the cordon ever so slightly and shout out my question, I might have the chance to interact with the Dalai Lama. I saw him coming over, and I said loudly, Your Holiness, a question please, Your Holiness, may I ask you a question? And he came over to me, and the crowd of bodyguards parted way just enough for the Dalai Lama to take my hand. So, I’m standing there holding his hand and we’re looking right into each other’s eyes. His hand felt cool and dry and plump. Ever the sleazy reporter, I clicked my camera from the hip while asking my question (recommended to me as a good question by my friend at Bloomberg):

“Your Holiness, what advice do you have for the people of Taiwan, which faces similar independence issues as your homeland Tibet?”

He looked at me, I looked at him. And he said: ‘’I already answered that question.’’ Then, with a smile, he playfully slapped my left cheek and turned away. I was left laughing. I was so surprised. Did the Dalai Lama just bitch-slap me?! Some said he had just blessed me; my boss suggested it was his way of telling me to f*%$ off, reporter-boy. Later, I told one of his disciples, a Taiwanese monk in the traditional Tibetan robes. She said the playful slap was considered ‘’chia-chih,’’ a sort of Buddhist blessing. So there ya have it — I was bitch-slap-blessed by the Dalai Lama on Monday.

The attached is the photo I took of him as he approached me. Not the greatest shot, but ya get the idea.

L,
max