Tenzin Phuntsok Rinpoche during his rik chung debate, Sera Je Monastery, India, September 2021. Photo courtesy of Sera Je Audio/Visual Department.

Tenzin Phuntsok Rinpoche is the recognized reincarnation of Geshe Lama Konchog, a highly respected lama who passed away in 2001. Phuntsok Rinpoche was born in the Tsum region of Nepal in 2002 and enthroned in 2006 at Kopan Monastery, where he lived and attended school for a few years. Rinpoche then spent three years in Perth, Australia, where he received a Western education. He began his studies at Sera Je Monastic University in India in 2015.

Ven. Tenzin Gache, an American monk in the geshe studies program at Sera Je, has been tutoring Phuntsok Rinpoche in debate since 2016. Ven. Gache shares this story of Phuntsok Rinpoche preparing for his rik chung debate at Sera Je, which took place in September 2021, along with other stories from working with Rinpoche over seven years. 

Swallowing Butterflies

Tenzin Phuntsok Rinpoche calls me at 3 p.m. to discuss bodhicitta. I ask him, “Are you nervous?”

He responds, “You know that feeling like when you swallow a can of butterflies?”

Over the course of an hour, we have a lively, often humorous discussion about the goal, the benefits, and the different kinds of bodhicitta. As usual, our conversation is a haphazard mix of English and Tibetan, often switching back and forth several times in one sentence. After fifteen years in the monastery, my spoken Tibetan is strong, but it is no match for the fluency of his English after his spending three years in a primary school in Australia.

We started our “intensive sessions” four months ago, and alternated walking across the campus to visit each other until Sera Monastery re-entered a strict lockdown and relegated all classes to the virtual realm. We are hopeful that the monastery will reopen soon, but Rinpoche knows that as soon as it does, he will have to face the most difficult trial so far in his eighteen-year life.

Becoming Tenzin Phuntsok Rinpoche’s Tutor

Tenzin Phuntsok Rinpoche with Ven. Tenzin Gache. Photo by Ven. Losang Donyo.

In 2013, Geshe Tenzin Zopa read my Mandala article “The Greatest Honor of Becoming a Rik Chung” about my experiences with a prestigious public debate in front of the Sera Je community. Intrigued that a Westerner was making inroads into this conservative Tibetan community, Geshe-la asked me if I would be able to help his young student, Phuntsok Rinpoche, to adjust to life at Sera, and tutor him in debate. I had only met Rinpoche once, very briefly, during his visit to Sera Je Kopan House in 2006, a couple months after I first arrived. Geshe-la introduced me to him again during His Holiness the Dalai Lama’s teachings at Ganden Monastery in 2014. I bent down and asked, “Rinpoche, how old are you?”

“Only twelve,” he replied and then added enthusiastically, “but next year, thirteen!”

Not long before that encounter, Osel Hita had visited us at Sera IMI House, and something he said stuck with me. Osel wanted to write a book about how to raise a tulku. The most important factor, he emphasized, is to remember that before anything else this person is a child, and like every other human being on the planet, deserves the liberty to develop their own point of view, without unrealistic expectations thrust upon them.

Becoming Tenzin Phuntsok Rinpoche’s Friend

Phuntsok Rinpoche arrived at Sera at the end of 2015, again during teachings of His Holiness the Dalai Lama. Along with my mother and Aunt Merry Colony, who were visiting for the teachings, we visited Rinpoche in his small house, a gift given by Ven. Jampa Shenphen, a Spanish monk who lived at Sera for many years. Geshe Zopa pointed out that after having finished eight years of study at Sera, I had reached a plateau from where I could comfortably cruise through the remainder of the study program. Rinpoche, on the other hand, was only just beginning, and the ascent would be a steep one. Somehow my mother got on the subject of pet cats, and Rinpoche became animated. “Can we get a cat in our house? Pleaaase?” he begged. Geshe-la reminded him that, while he was free to make such choices, he would have to recognize that he was reaching an age where he would have to take responsibility, especially because Geshe-la would be continuing to teach abroad. Geshe-la then suggested that I accompany Rinpoche to visit Lhopa Khangtsen, the house group to which I belong and which, because it was the house group of his predecessor Geshe Lama Konchok, would also be Rinpoche’s house group in this life, even though he had never visited it himself. As we walked across the campus, lively with preparations for His Holiness’s teachings, I asked Rinpoche, “Do you have any friends in Lhopa Khangtsen?”

“Only one,” he replied.

“Who?”

“You.”

As the study year commenced in March of 2016, I began making twice weekly trips to Rinpoche’s home to help him with his budding debate skills. Naturally we also talked about life in the monastery. After his childhood in Kopan Monastery—compared to Sera, a very progressive community—and his three years in Australia, life at Sera seemed almost as foreign as it had to me when I arrived. I had the sense I was tutoring a young Australian boy rather than a child of a Tibetan family living in exile in the remote regions of Nepal. His classmates in Australia had known nothing of his background, or his being a monk. He was shy about introducing them to his uncle, Geshe Zopa. When they asked if they could visit him at home, he would reply, “No, sorry. I forgot my address!”

I asked him what was his favorite subject in school. Rather shyly, he said, “Math. When I told them I liked math, the other kids called me, ‘freak of nature’!”

Tenzin Phuntsok Rinpoche outside the Sera Jey Temple after his rik chung debate. Photo courtesy of Sera Je Audio/Visual Department.

Having myself been a math prodigy as a young child, I was beginning to see that we were going to get along very well. 

Developing a Point of View through Deep Investigation     

Over the course of four years, our interactions took on a familiar pattern. I would visit Rinpoche on Tuesdays and Saturdays. The official subject was Buddhist dialectics, but more often than not our discussions would segue into current events, history, science, and life as a teenager. Rinpoche clearly took his role as a Buddhist monk seriously, but also had all kinds of natural questions about the deeply traditional system of the Tibetan monastery. Things came to a head in 2019, when an especially strict disciplinarian became director of Lhopa Khangtsen. He began his term with a speech outlining his new policies.

“Up until now, there’s been leniency for Injis [foreigners] and tulkus,” the disciplinarian said. Rinpoche and I looked around. There was only one Inji and one tulku in the room. “But from now on, things are going to change!”

As it happened, 2019 was Rinpoche’s fourth year of debate, and according to tradition he would have to answer the senior monks in a public debate in front of our khangtsen. The director called Rinpoche into his office. Displaying a melodramatically wistful demeanor, he reminded Rinpoche of the great lineage of Lhopa debaters. Would he be able to uphold the high standard? For two months Rinpoche and I met as much as possible to prepare. The evening of his big event, lharampa geshes stood up in succession and did their best to embarrass him. I watched as his usual shyness gave way to confidence and poise. This was the first time I had watched Rinpoche debate in public, but I had heard of his top-rate performance during the annual debate exams. It seemed that something deep within him was slowly waking up.

Over the course of the year, the director often singled the two of us out for scoldings. Rinpoche bore the challenge with grace (and, understandably, occasional panic). But one day, the director commented to Rinpoche that, “Science is dangerous. Look what it’s done to the world!” Rinpoche did not remain quiet, but responded assertively, “Well, it’s true. Atrocities have been carried out in the name of science. But you can’t say that means science is the problem. The world today is a much safer and more tolerant place as a result of advances in the past centuries. Whether something is used for good or bad depends on the mind of the person using it.” To me, his conviction in his point of view was a reflection of his having developed it through his own investigations.

Tenzin Phuntsok Rinpoche studying. Photo courtesy of Ven. Gache.

Due to the pandemic, I was stuck in Nepal during 2020, and when I finally returned in January 2021, I had not seen Rinpoche in almost a year. During my absence he had started listening to podcasts and gaining a deeper understanding of the world outside. There was a noticeable difference in our interactions—rather than my rattling off answers to his endless adolescent questions, we were engaged in a discussion.

“I hear on the news about violence in various places. But I know the news can be sensationalist. I try to see the broader perspective, to remember all the good things that don’t get reported,” he said to me. I had shared this viewpoint with him a few years ago, but now it was evidently coming from him.

At one point he asked me, “Do you think communism has ever succeeded in making the world a better place?” I told him that, while certainly the track record has been highly suspect, I keep in mind that at some level the authors of this ideology had a motivation of altruism. We got into a long talk about Marx, Lenin, Mao, and Castro. For the sake of argument, I pointed out some of the apparent successes, but Rinpoche was adamant in his position that this experiment has failed. Unlike before, he wasn’t just accepting what I said, but came back with his own opinion that he had developed.

Tenzin Phuntsok Rinpoche’s Humor and Candor 

A few months later, we are discussing Shantideva’s assertion that, while trying to create positive change in the world is a worthy motivation, it is not a bodhicitta motivation unless somebody thinks beyond just this life and fathoms the reality of enlightenment. Rinpoche is preparing for his rik chung debate. As it happens, he will be in the position of “defender” for the subject bodhicitta, exactly the same position I occupied eight years ago. I have several books packed with notes from my preparations, and we have been going through these together when he has time between his rigorous training in the traditional chant he will have to perform. I ask, “What are you most nervous about? The chant or the debate?” He says, “Actually, my biggest concern is that I might trip on the dagam!” (A dagam is a heavy wool cape that he will have to wear for the ceremony.) I remember my own struggle to master all the details of the ritual, so we set aside our philosophical discussion and spend the hour thrashing out all the fine points that he is expected to perform with precision.

I never had the fortune to meet Geshe Lama Konchog. A few of the older monks in our khangtsen remember his extraordinary, almost superhuman efforts to apply the teachings into practice. While I do believe in reincarnation, I do not hold any expectations for Rinpoche to “live up” to his predecessor. I consider him a different person who will develop his own unique perspective on the Buddha’s teachings based on his extremely unconventional education path in this life, and his candor which I see as his strongest quality. Rinpoche himself always keeps a tongue-in-cheek attitude about his relation with Geshe Konchog. At the end of 2019, I brought two young Singaporean boys to meet him in his home. Motioning to the small shrine in his living room, he says matter-of-factly, “Well, that was me!”

One of the boys, Tashi, asks rather inelegantly, “When did you die?”

Rinpoche plays along. “I died in 2001. You see, I’m really a ghost!”

Ven. Tenzin Gache (Brian Roiter) grew up in the Boston area of the United States. He was ordained by His Holiness the Dalai Lama in 2005 and began studying at Sera Je Monastary in 2006. He is nearing the end of the regular course of study for the degree of geshe and aspires to attend the additional six-year round of Gelug examinations to qualify for the degree of lharampa.