Core Competency
[Five Years of Steadfast Progress] Over 13 Years, Hundreds of Tibetan Doctors Have Emerged from "Medicine Province"
Release time:
2017-05-19 14:30

Students are learning Tibetan medical knowledge in class.

The teacher leads students in identifying medicinal herbs.

Gongbu Manlong Yutuo Tibetan Medical School
At 4 p.m., in a classroom in Nanyi Luoba Ethnic Township, Milin County, Linzhi City, Tibet Autonomous Region, students, draped in dark-red cotton robes, sat cross-legged on Tibetan-style cushion mats, reciting aloud in Tibetan the “Four Medical Texts.” On the podium lay a golden-yellow khata, and on the classroom walls hung diagrams illustrating the human body’s anatomy, acupoint locations, and medicinal herbs—all labeled in Tibetan script.
Principal Songre Gongxi slowly walked into the classroom. Instantly, the students stopped reading and stood up to greet him, expressing their respect for Songre Gongxi. The Tibetan medical school, nestled at the foot of the mountains, is made up of more than 80 students and five teachers. Over the past 13 years, more than 40 students have graduated from this school, and most of them now practice medicine throughout Tibet.
Here, tuition and room and board are both free. Students live in small dorm rooms housing three people each. Children from impoverished families come here, escaping the fate of herding yaks or digging cordyceps at a young age. Over the next three years, they will study Tibetan medical knowledge and earn a secondary vocational school diploma issued by the Linzhi City Vocational and Technical School.
“Classmates, here we are again,” Songre Gongxi said with a gentle smile. He could only understand a few scattered Chinese phrases; normally, whether he was seeing patients or teaching students, he communicated entirely in Tibetan. On May 7, he was giving a lecture on “moral character.” On other days, Songre Gongxi spent most of his time in the school’s clinic, treating patients who had come from far and wide to seek his expertise. He had only one or two opportunities each month to sit here and share with his students how to “practice medicine” and “be a good person.” Whenever he gave a lecture, the classroom would always be packed to capacity.
Lazhen is a second-grade student who is 25 years old and comes from Jiangdang Township, Sangzhuzi District, Shigatse. Local resources of cordyceps are scarce, so most Tibetan villagers rely primarily on growing barley, raising yaks, and raising Tibetan fragrant pigs for their livelihoods. With five children to support, her parents bear an enormous burden. After graduating from junior high school, Lazhen stopped her formal education. She traveled to Lhasa, more than 280 kilometers away, and took a job as a waitress in a hotpot restaurant.
Every day, Lajin spends her time dealing with various vegetables, dipping sauces, and meats, constantly enveloped in the aroma of hot pot. Her life has become a daily routine of repetition. In 2014, she happened to hear about a Tibetan medical school that “didn’t require tuition fees.” At the time, her father was suffering from a strange skin disease, which sparked her dream of becoming a doctor. “Learning a trade is always better than just doing odd jobs,” she thought. In August, after having dropped out of school five years earlier, Lajin picked up her pen once again and struggled through the entrance exam. “My mind was completely blank at the time, but luckily I managed to pass,” Lajin recalled.
Every August, when medicinal herbs in Milin County are flourishing, it’s also the school’s enrollment season. Songre Gongxi says that most of the students the school admits are between 17 and 25 years old. “They must at least have mastered junior-high school-level knowledge before they can achieve proficiency in medicine.” Many of these students come from impoverished families, primarily from areas such as Nagqu, Shannan, Ali, and Xigaze. Their parents bring their children to the school to take the entrance exam—students not only have to complete a given essay assignment, but teachers will also randomly open a page of the “Four Medical Classics.” The students first read aloud the passage they’ve opened, then transcribe it onto paper. In addition, they’re required to step forward and introduce themselves to the principal and teachers.
Having not read for a long time, Lajin initially found herself constantly blanking on words whenever she picked up her pen. “I’ve been out of practice for so long—I’ve completely forgotten everything,” she said, lowering her head shyly. To catch up quickly, she started arriving at the classroom early every day to recite basic Tibetan medical knowledge. During her lunch break, she’d rush off to a nearby grove of trees to read and write.
The school’s gate is dark red, still retaining the style of ancient temple gates. The kitchen, clinic, and dormitories are arranged around a single teaching building. At the school gate stand two signs, one in Tibetan and the other in Chinese, bearing the name of the school—Gongbu Manlong Yutuo Tibetan Medical School.
In Tibetan, “Manlong” refers to a place abundant in medicinal herbs, while “Yutu” denotes the renowned Tibetan medical master and “Saint of Medicine,” Yutu Yundan Gombu. Over 1,200 years ago, Yutu Yundan Gombu founded the very first Tibetan medical school in this region and spent more than two decades completing the classic Tibetan medical text, the “Four Medical Tantras.”
“The book covers human anatomy, physiology, pathology, diagnostic methods, therapeutic principles, and pharmacology; it has been translated into numerous languages.” Seated in a room adorned with thangkas depicting medical themes, Principal Songre Gongxi took a sip of sweet tea. “For all these years, it has remained the most esteemed textbook in Tibetan medicine.” The ‘Four Medical Tantras’ is hailed as the encyclopedia of Tibetan medicine. As stated in the Chinese translation’s preface published by the People’s Medical Publishing House: “This is a monumental work of ancient medicine; in Tibetan medicine, its significance is comparable to that of the ‘Huangdi Neijing’ in Han Chinese medicine.” It is also a required textbook for students, who study it from the moment they enroll until graduation.
Songre Gongxi was born into a farming and pastoral family in Shigatse City, Tibet Autonomous Region. At the age of 17, he took ordination and began to worship the Buddha. In 1986, Songre Gongxi started traveling and studying; initially, he studied martial arts, but soon developed a deep interest in Tibetan medicine and began seeking out masters everywhere to learn and practice. In those days, living in his hometown where medical care and medicines were scarce, he realized just how vital medicine is to people's well-being. In 1993, he came to the Tibet University of Traditional Tibetan Medicine and became a student of Ciren Jianzan, studying Tibetan medicine under his guidance.
Seven years later, Song Re Gongxi graduated and returned to a temple in Shigatse to practice Buddhism and provide medical care for Tibetan villagers who came to burn incense and pay their respects to the Buddha. Many of these patients came from high-altitude regions at elevations above 4,500 meters. Due to the harsh climate and dietary habits, a large number of them suffered from stomach ailments, cerebral hemorrhages, arthritis, and heart disease.
More and more patients came seeking his fame, and some young people began to take him as their teacher, learning medical skills from him.
“There are too many people—this has already violated the temple’s rule of maintaining purity,” Songre Gongxi sighed. At that time, Qizheng Tibetan Medicine in Tibet was just planning to invest in and establish a Tibetan medicine school, so they reached out to him. Songre Gongxi felt this was a great opportunity.
In 2004, with approval and funding from Qizheng Tibetan Medicine, the Gongbu Manlong Yutuo Tibetan Medical School was completed, and Songre Gongxi also acquired another title—principal.
During the hour he spends teaching, several Tibetan patients are already waiting outside the school clinic’s door. Even after becoming principal, he continues to see patients. At his busiest, he sees as many as 50 patients in a single day.
The examination room is sparsely furnished: a Tibetan wooden chair, a Tibetan square table, a pen, and a notebook—these are all that’s needed. When a patient enters, Songre Gongxi nods in greeting, and the patient bows deeply, presenting a white khata. Thus begins the consultation. Danden, director of the Tibetan Medicine Hospital in Milin County, says that Tibetan medicine is broadly similar to Chinese medicine, yet not entirely identical. A fully qualified Tibetan physician must master the entire body of knowledge contained in the “Four Medical Tantras,” and then use several diagnostic methods—including taking the patient’s medical history, observing their complexion, examining their tongue, feeling their pulse, and even analyzing their urine—to determine the nature of the illness.
Many students have come to the clinic repeatedly to observe the principal’s consultations. “It’s not just about theoretical knowledge—what’s crucial is for them to understand real-life symptoms,” said Songre Gongxi. The clinic itself is also a learning environment for students; “practical experience comes from here.”
Ever since the school was completed, Songre Gongxi has been packing his schedule tightly with classes. For some students, the path to becoming a doctor is not an easy one. A student from Shangri-La in Yunnan said he often misses home and “feels so exhausted from studying.” Bai Ma, from Linzhi in Tibet, has several times posted “little crying-face” emojis on his WeChat Moments.
Baima’s day begins at 6:30 a.m. After two hours of morning reading, he has breakfast, then attends classes in Tibetan medicine, Tibetan language, astronomical calendars, and other subjects. He also spends time in the school clinic, observing how teachers diagnose and treat patients. The students take turns preparing lunch and dinner, and during the peak harvest season in July and August, they go up the mountain to collect medicinal herbs. The school’s own pharmaceutical factory is currently under construction. As a boy, Baima sometimes helps out by adding bricks and mortar. Every evening at 8 p.m., he starts studying on his own, memorizing the day’s lessons. Only after finishing his studies at 10:30 p.m. is he allowed to return to his dormitory and wait for the lights-out signal.
Baima’s home is in the heart of Linzhi city. In both primary and secondary schools, teachers give lessons entirely in Chinese, and he has become more proficient in Chinese than in Tibetan. When he first arrived at the Tibetan medical school, both the textbooks and the teachers’ lectures were exclusively in Tibetan—so much so that he found it “even harder than English.” He had no choice but to memorize everything by comparing it with Chinese translations. “And on top of that, we had to sit cross-legged during class, which left our legs numb and sore.” Now, he’s gradually gotten used to everything here. “Being a doctor means you’ve got to put up with some hardships—that’s just part of the deal!”
Song Regongxi sat on a low bed, speaking with great enthusiasm. In the first row of the classroom sat a student who appeared older; his name was Lieshe.
Lieshi is among the first students trained by Songre Gongxi. He comes from Shigatse and has been fascinated with the history of Tibetan medicine since he was very young. Many years ago, when Songre Gongxi was still providing medical care to patients at the monastery, Lieshi became his disciple. After the school was established, Lieshi began studying here. Thanks to his outstanding academic performance, he stayed on after graduation to teach at the school, where he teaches subjects such as Tibetan language and Tibetan medicine.
Every year in July and August, Leshi takes his students to the nearby hills to collect medicinal herbs. The county of Milin, where the school is located, is affectionately known by locals as “the Medicinal Herb Province.” This region boasts abundant medicinal resources, with herbs such as Codonopsis pilosula, Angelica sinensis, Rhodiola rosea, and Cordyceps sinensis growing throughout the valleys. After a light rain, you can smell the crisp, refreshing fragrance of medicinal herbs at the foot of the mountains. Sometimes, Leshi uses a lottery system to test their knowledge: slips of paper with questions are drawn at random, and students who can’t answer are required to perform a short act in front of the whole class.
The school has winter and summer vacations, and of course, there are also final exams—covering the entire volume of "The Four Medical Texts." Baima said that every night, students would sit in the classroom, reciting aloud. Some students even deliberately went to the window to catch a cool breeze in order to stay awake.
Wang Jiu, who graduated in 2009, opened a clinic in Renbu County; Danceng, who graduated in 2013, became a village doctor in Gongbujiangda County. Lieshe recalls that this boy was exceptionally talented and had consistently ranked first in several exams; Yada, on the other hand, stayed on at the school’s pharmacy, where he processed Tibetan medicines.
“Originally, we planned to select a group of children from impoverished families to come and study. After graduation, we intended to provide each of them with 10,000 yuan worth of medicines and medical equipment, enabling them to return home and become rural doctors,” Lei Jufang, Chairwoman of Qizheng Tibetan Medicine, once told the media at a public event. “Unexpectedly, all more than 20 students who graduated in the first batch have become experts in Tibetan medical diagnosis. Now, this school’s reputation is growing steadily, and every day, the number of people coming to seek treatment out of admiration for its reputation exceeds the number of patients visiting some hospitals.”
At the Gongbu Manlong Yutuo Tibetan Medical School, there are two courses that students must take from enrollment all the way through graduation. One is “The Four Medical Texts,” and the other is medical ethics. During this class, Songre Gongxi constantly reminds the students to “be good people.”
Lieshi recalls that sometimes patients would knock on the school gates late at night, yet Songre Gongxi would always rise cheerfully to see them. Even for those with severe illnesses who were confined to bed, Songre Gongxi would still make house calls. Lajen said that during the monthly ethics classes, the principal would always emphasize to them: “For us doctors, attitude is the most important thing. You should treat patients just as you’d treat your own parents—don’t worry too much about a few yuan less. Patients’ families are often very anxious and upset, so you must be patient with them.”
“In many medical schools, this kind of course is offered for only one year, but at this school it’s different—they place great emphasis on it,” said Danden, the director of the Milin County Tibetan Hospital. Songre Gongxi had heard about the doctor-patient conflicts in big cities, and it deeply pained him. “Practice medical ethics” and “be a good person”—these were phrases he often repeated.
After the hour-and-a-half-long lecture ended, the students stood up and said goodbye to Songre Gongxi. At that moment, several more patients had already gathered at the clinic’s doorway, waiting to see the doctor. With his hands behind his back, Songre Gongxi walked toward them step by step, facing the intense sunlight.
Reporting media: China Youth Daily
Report link: http://news.sina.com.cn/gov/2017-05-19/doc-ifyfkqks4336334.shtml