Tibetan restaurants in Paris, ethno-political witnesses to the two waves of Tibetan exile in France

Since the 19th century, non-native communities have played an important role in the urban catering sector in the West. Their presence is often studied from the angle of economics or integration (Ray 2014; Brell, Dustmann, Preston 2020). Other approaches emphasize the desire for ethnic representation (in English, "performance") and identity that underpins the raison d'être of these establishments, beyond mere economic necessity (Das Graças Brightwell 2012; Ray 2014; Imilan 2015).



There are currently around twenty Tibetan restaurants in France, mainly located in Paris. This figure may seem modest, but it should be seen in the context of the very small size of the Tibetan community in France, which numbers between eight and ten thousand individuals[1]. Few other refugee communities of such small size can boast such a variety of catering establishments. This first paradox is coupled with a second: while Tibet is renowned for its Buddhist monasteries, its monks and its mountains, it is hardly renowned for its gastronomy, which is necessarily limited by the natural conditions prevailing on the Himalayan plateau[2]. Moreover, traditionally, it was rare for Tibetans in Tibet itself to enter the restaurant trade, which was often left to the Han Chinese and Hui Muslims. So how to explain the profusion of Tibetan restaurants in Paris? A look back is in order.





The first arrivals in the 1960s-90s



France received its first Tibetan refugees in the 1960s. Their arrival followed the forced incorporation of Tibet into the new People's Republic of China (PRC) in the previous decade. The Sino-Tibetan confrontation culminated in the flight into exile, in March 1959, of the XIVth Dalai Lama (born 1935), followed by eighty thousand of his compatriots. They found asylum in South Asia (India, Nepal and Bhutan) and, with the agreement of the host countries, settled in "camps" that became veritable villages. Little by little, they set up a government and parliament in exile, building monasteries, schools and then hospitals, thus creating a "pseudo-state" (McConnell 2016) without territory. Several Western countries, out of sympathy for the Tibetan cause and interest in the intellectual heritage of the Land of Snows, pledge to take in a few refugees, through the Rockefeller Foundation. While six hundred Tibetans were welcomed in Switzerland, almost thirty arrived in France in the first half of the 1960s. Among them was Dakpo Rinpoche (b. 1935), a reincarnated monk and scholar, who served as a tutor at Inalco until his retirement in 1992[3]. This handful of Tibetan refugees in the early decades were relatively well integrated linguistically, professionally and in terms of relationships. By the 1970s, however, France and the West in general had developed a passion for Asian spirituality, particularly Tibetan Buddhism, and "world food" had not yet taken on the prominence it now enjoys. Instead of restaurants, Buddhist centers and craft stores were springing up all over the country, particularly in the Dordogne. In 1980, Mr. Ngawang Dakpa, a Tibetan language tutor at Inalco, opened his first Tibetan store on rue Burq in Montmartre. Tsering Dolkar, who arrived in France from India in 1976 as a student, opened the "La Route du Tibet" boutique with her cousin Tenzin Gyalpo three years later, near the Pantheon. Their aim was to promote Tibetan handicrafts produced in refugee camps in India and Nepal.


In 1988, these same young businessmen decided to open the first Tibetan restaurant in France: "Tashi Delek" (an auspicious Tibetan expression, equivalent to "Bonjour"). They set up store in the upscale Pantheon district. The Dalai Lama wins the Nobel Peace Prize in 1989, the Tibetan question becomes internationalized, and Tibetan fever grips the West. A number of restaurants followed in the footsteps of the Tashi Delek, including the "Lhasa" run by Mr. Ngawang Dakpa's wife, which opened in 1994. Several boutiques (clothes, objects, books) complete the offer, again in the same district. These establishments are mostly frequented by non-Tibetans. Until the mid-2000s, when there were only a few hundred Tibetan refugees in France, several restaurants opened here and there, notably in Montmartre, which was home to up to three restaurants, a bookshop, a store selling Tibetan objects and a Buddhist center.






Since the 2000s, a new diaspora



The turning point first came around 2005: the number of Tibetan asylum seekers in France skyrocketed, for reasons yet to be determined. Tibetans and their families arrive by the hundreds. The Tibetan uprising of 2008 prolonged and reinforced this influx of would-be political exiles. This second wave moved into La Chapelle and Stalingrad: not only is this neighborhood more affordable and popular, it's also close to the Paris commuter centers of the northern and eastern suburbs, where many Tibetans are housed in social housing. It's also cosmopolitan: in particular, it's home to an Indo-Tamil enclave, where Tibetans rediscover the Indian smells and flavors of their first place of exile. A Tamil restaurant, the "Royal Café", changes its menu to accommodate the many Tibetans who frequent the area[4], while the Jardins d'Eole in Stalingrad is taken over by hundreds of Tibetans, some of whom sell takeaway food to their nostalgic and impecunious compatriots. Over the years, four distinctly Tibetan restaurants were added: "Le Petit Tibet", "Yak Café", "Peace Restaurant" and "Momos du Tibet", while the "Tibet Shop" sold Tibetan and Indian clothing and food products. The clientele is changing. It's young and often Tibetan: the number of compatriots in Paris is now high enough to form a customer base, prices are moderate, Tibetan pop replaces soothing mantras as background music, and the decor is more functional, less ethno-chic than in the first establishments created in Paris. We can begin to speak of them as an "economy of nostalgia" (Imilan 2015: 233).





Unlike many communities present in France for economic reasons, Tibetans are first and foremost and almost exclusively political refugees. While the restaurants that have sprung up in the wake of the two waves of migration described here have characteristics specific to each generation, they all have a place for politics. The systematic and prominent presence of a portrait of the Dalai Lama illustrates this close interweaving of culture, gastronomy, religion and politics. Although this remains to be verified, it may well be that the customers of these restaurants give the lie to Ashis Nandy's assertion: "You're making a political statement if you don't like a particular ethnic cuisine, not if you do" (Nandy 2003: 248). What's more, in the absence of a cultural center or official diplomatic representation, these restaurants are a way for their owners to make their culture known and shared with members of their host country. Last but not least, these establishments provide a permanent Tibetan presence in the public arena. In fact, they are the only places[5] where secular material culture (decor, dishes, clothing) and the Tibetan language[6] can be seen and heard, and form the basis of professional life. In short, a Tibetan restaurant is a "home in the bowels of the West" (Ghassan 1997), a microcosm that is rewarding, familiar, controlled and reassuring in a context of double dispossession - on a collective level, since Tibet has been under Chinese rule for six decades, and on an individual level, since a refugee is by definition uprooted. However, these establishments, while seemingly numerous given the small size of the Tibetan community, employ only a few dozen Tibetans. It may come as a surprise to learn that the main providers of employment for Tibetan refugees in Paris are actually Chinese restaurants and caterers. Indeed, Tibetans have the advantage of being legally employable (their papers are in order, which is a corollary of their political refugee status - this is not the case for Chinese migrants, who are often illegal), Chinese-speaking (they learned a little Chinese in Tibet) and not particularly fussy about the working conditions imposed on them. In the back kitchens of such establishments, needless to say, it's not the Tibetan vision of history that dominates.





Françoise Robin

Professor of Tibetan language and literature (Inalco, IFRAE)[7]





Some photographs of Tibetan restaurants in Paris. Click on the titles to view the images.



Tenzin restaurant sign (2e) - Momos, Tenzin restaurant (2e) - Tenzin, Tenzin restaurant (2e)

Devanture Restaurant Kalsang (18th) - Momos restaurant Kalsang (18th) - Restaurant Kalsang (18th)

Restaurant Délices du Tibet (9th) - Tenzin Ludrup, restaurant Gang Seng (18th)



Bibliographical references



- Brell, Courtney, Dustmann Christian and Ian Preston. 2020. "The Labor Market Integration of Refugee Migrants in High-Income Countries", The Journal of Economic Perspectives 34(1): 94-121.

- Das Graças Brightwell, Maria. 2012. "On the move and in the making: Brazilian Culinary Cultures in London", Canadian Journal of Latin American and Caribbean Studies / Revue canadienne des études latino-américaines et caraïbes, 37(74): 51-80.

- Ghassan, Hage. 1997, "At Home in the Entrails of the West: Multiculturalism, 'Ethnic Food' and Migrant Home-building", in H. Grace et al. (eds.) Home /World. Space, Community and Marginality in Sydney's West. Annandale: Pluto, 99-153.

- Imilan, Walter A. 2015. "Performing national identity through Peruvian food migration in Santiago de Chile," Fennia 193(2): 227-241.

- McConnell, Fiona. 2014. Rehearsing the State: The Political Practices of the Tibetan Government-in-Exile. Chichester: Wiley.

- Nandy, Ashis. 2003. "Ethnic Cuisine: the significant other", India International Centre Quarterly. India. A National Culture? 39(3/4): 246-251.

- Ray, Krishnendu. 2014. "Taste, Toil and Ethnicity: Immigrant Restaurateur and the American City," Ethnologie française 44(1): 105-114.





Notes



[1] There are six million Tibetans in the world. The overwhelming majority (97%) live in the People's Republic of China. Two thirds of the diaspora, numbering between one hundred and thirty and one hundred and fifty thousand, live in India and Nepal. The remainder are mainly divided between the USA, Canada, Belgium, Switzerland and France.
.
[2] Barley, meat and dairy products traditionally formed the basis of the diet, while fruit, vegetables and spices were rare. Tibetan restaurateurs also offer Indian, Nepalese, Chinese and Asian "world food" dishes (nems, for example) to enhance their menus.
[3] Tibetan teaching is based on the teachings of the Tibetan tradition.
[3] Tibetan language teaching had already begun in 1842, making the Ecole des Langues (later Inalco) the first higher education establishment in the world to offer Tibetan language courses. In the 1860s, however, the Collège de France took over, followed by the Ecole Pratique des Hautes Etudes. The arrival of Dakpo Rinpoche brought about the revival of Tibetan language teaching after a century's interruption.
He inspired the realisation of the Tibetan language.
[4] He inspired director Tenzin Dazel to make a film of the same name in 2016, the first Tibetan feature film shot in Paris.

[5] Tibetan monasteries are also places of visibility and presence for Tibetan scholarly culture and language, but they are relatively little frequented by refugees.

[6] It should be noted, however, that these restaurants sometimes recruit Nepalese or even Chinese cooks, who are more experienced in the art of cooking for Westerners.

[7] I would like to thank Olivier Masseret and Clémence Henry for their insightful comments when proofreading earlier versions of this post.