In fact nobody knows the exact number of those who left Tibet. Hundreds or thousands of children indeed have not succeeded in reaching India: the dead from hunger, cold or exhaustion; those caught by the Chinese or Nepalese police and sent back or put in gaol; and those kept as maids in a Nepalese family once they cross the border (see chapter 4).
Children are the most vulnerable of the refugees and run the greatest risk of dying on their way to freedom. Some of them are even younger than four.
We can only guess how many have lost their lives on the way. Fortunately the statement for one that succeeds, two die (Sofia STRIL-REVER, Enfants du Tibet, p. 148) seems to be exaggerated. (p. 25)
Even children are sent to prison.
I was successful in my second attempt to reach the reception centre in Kathmandu. My first attempt was in 2003. I was in a group of 18 people and we were arrested by the Nepalese police who returned us to the Chinese. They sent us to the prison of Shigatse for four months. My brother was with me. Our uncle came and paid 5,000 Yuan to release us. The police beat and tortured all the members of our group, except me because I was the youngest. (Dhundup, now aged 15) (Yangchens notebook, TRRC Kathmandu, 26 September 2005) (p. 33)
I was in a bigger group, but then we had to walk through the snow. The snow was reaching to hip height, so our guide advised us to go back. Everybody returned except five of us, we did not want to go back. For four days we walked in the snow, and then it took us 11 more days to reach here. I was lucky because I only have minor frostbite. I need to take antibiotics and they clean the wounds every day. One lady is now in the hospital, she was in a bad condition, and they have to amputate both her feet. (p. 39)
Finally I (a girl, 16 years old) was released, in total I spent two months and a half in prison. In fact I escaped in October 2002 and I arrived in the TRRC in February 2003. While I was imprisoned I was praying that no one may have this same experience, especially I was thinking of the Panchen Lama who has remained in prison for the last 10 years. Some refugees are really lucky to arrive easily, I had a tough time and then I got sick afterwards: TB diagnosis. But the saddest of all is that they took all the pictures of my family and of my best friend. (p. 64)
While conducting most of the interviews in the garden of the clinic of the TRRC in Kathmandu, the patients came to know me very well. After a while, some of the children even called me ama, mother, you are like our mother, because we don't have a mother anymore, one of them told me. Another eight year-old girl, whom I met several times during Kalachakra, clung to me every time she saw me and would not let me go. This surprised me, since beforeI had not spent a lot of time with her. Later I heard her mother was returning to Tibet after delivering her daughter to the TCV school. She had felt the farewell with her mother was near, and instinctively she had been seeking affection from another ama. I experienced the same affection in Dharamsala when I met a group of children from the TRRC in Kathmandu. One of them jumped on my legs and hugged me affectionately. (p.118)