Melody in Prison: Ngawang Choephel
	UPDATE 3 June 1998

It was recently learned that for the past year, Ngawang Choephel's mother, Sonam Dekyi, has been living in a tent in a park in New Delhi while trying to win her son's freedom or be granted permission to visit him. Tibetan photographer Sonam Zoksang, who was in Tibet with Ngawang and Kathryn Culley shortly before Ngawang's disappearance, was interviewed on May 31st about his meeting with Sonam Dekyi earlier this year. He summarized the situation as follows:

Ngawang's mother didn't know that he went to Tibet in 1995; she thought that he was in Dharamsala. After a while, when she didn't receive any letters, she started getting worried. She went to find out where Ngawang was. Later she discovered that Ngawang had gone into Tibet and was arrested. She tried to get help from different organizations in India, especially from the Tibetan Government-in-Exile and different independant organizations, until all possibilities were exhausted. Even though the Tibetan exile government and all the other organizations tried so hard to talk about Ngawang and get the international community's help about Ngawang, the Chinese didn't respond. And then the Chinese said that Ngawang had been caught committing espionage and that he'd been detained at that time. He was detained for one year by the Chinese without any charges or sentences. In December 1996, he was sentenced to 18 years in prison.

Ngawang's mom got really depressed and sad. She didn't know what to do, she didn't know how she could get Ngawang to be released. She wanted to go into Tibet. She tried many times to get a visa from the Chinese embassy in Delhi, but she didn't get anything. They didn't respond at all. They probably told her that they didn't know anything about it.

On June 2, 1997, after having had no success in obtaining a visa, she started sitting in Delhi. There's a place called Jantar Mantar, where many Indians come and do demonstrations, sit there in makeshift tents. What she started doing was, she wanted to get petitions from all different people. Even though her health was failing, she'd left her village and relations; she wanted to stay there in Delhi. I went to see her in September 1997, but she was sick and she wasn't there. Usually she's there all day long, every day, even when it's raining, no matter how bad the weather is, how bad her health is. When I went to see her this year, in February or March 1998, I saw her three times. I spoke to her about her health, and I said that people are working so hard to get Ngawang released from prison, and that she shouldn't feel that nobody's working to free him. But she had somehow developed a lot of negative thoughts because she didn't know how Ngawang was or what happened to him, if he's alive or not–she seemed to be on the verge of losing her mind. I wanted her to go back to the village. I told her that it's better for her to go back home, that if she stays there in that heat and in that makeshift tent, she might die. That's not very good for her. And as for Ngawang, eventually he's going to get released. When he get's released, if he finds that his mother hasn't survived because she spent so many months on the street, then he'd be emotionally devastated. But she would not listen at all. She said, "I'm here. I have nothing else to do. My son is in prison, and I am here trying to get the petition so that I can send it to the United Nations and to the United States government to get them to do something about Ngawang."

I don't know what to say to you. Her physical state is very bad; her mental state is very bad. My fear is that if she goes on like this for much longer, she might die soon. And I'm very concerned about that. It's a difficult thing. For me it was very, very frustrating, talking to her and trying to persuade her to leave that place. Because Delhi is such a hot place, and she has tuberculosis, and it's not very good for her. Especially what bothers me is that I know Ngawang is eventually going to get released. There's tremendous pressure on the Chinese government. But she doesn't understand that. Probably because of her experience of how the Chinese invaded Tibet and how brutal the Chinese were towards her, she thinks that Ngawang is going to die or that he's completely tortured and suffering inside prison. And he may be. But she is completely devastated.

Nobody knows where Ngawang is right now. Wherever he is, no correspondence has ever been allowed. When the Chinese initially admitted that he was being detained, they said he was in Shigatze prison, and then he was sent into Lhasa. After his case got so much publicity, he was sent to some other prison. We tried to locate him when we were in Tibet last year. We talked to some people who were trying to find out in which prison he was being held, but nobody knew at that time. So his mother doesn't know where he is, which prison, in China or in Tibet. And China is keeping that very secret. She was saying, "Maybe he's dead." And you can't talk to her or reassure her. She gets very angry and upset.

Eugene Louie, a reporter with the San Jose Mercury, met Sonam Dekyi during the Tibetan hunger strike in New Delhi earlier this year and, via a translator, conducted an e-mail interview with her in May. At that time, Sonam Dekyi told him that she had collected almost 1,000 pages of petitions that she hoped to present to the United Nations in a few months. The petitions ask that the Chinese release Ngawang immediately or, if they fail to do so, that they allow her to visit him in prison.

In his report, published on 3 June, Louie described Sonam Dekyi's living quarters as a "crude lean-to tent that faced the luxurious Park Hotel" on Parliament Street in New Delhi. He asked her why she had chosen that particular spot, and she replied:

The reason I am here is that this is a place where all people from all over the world come. In this particular street I would like to appeal to every single person who comes here to help me to get the Chinese to release him, or for me to meet him.

Sonam Dekyi also revealed that Ngawang had been supporting her up until the time of his disappearance. Since then, she told Louie, donations from well-wishers and, on two occasions, assistance from a Tibetan welfare officer, have made it possible for her to eat and to buy paper for the petitions that are her main expense.

Like Zoksang, Louie expressed concern for her fragile health and asked what would induce her to leave the pavement.