Update #2: October in Trashigang
I've been here about a week, in far eastern Bhutan. Last week was spent in Bartsam and Bidung, two hillside villages on the dirt farms roads that wrap around the mountains like octopus tentacles. When I was in Trashiyangtse in 2001 and 2002, I thought that was the end of the road – but Bidung is really at the end of the road, being the terminus of the farm road that branches off from the main highway. It’s a beautiful village: lush and fertile, on a gentle slope overlooking a wide gorge that runs east, fading away toward Arunchal Pradesh. The farmers there are quite prosperous because, as they say, their soil can grow anything – maize, rice and potatoes for cash; chilis, tomatoes, garlic, onions, eggplant, leafy greens, squash, pumpkins, bitter gords, and more for their personal use. I had the two or three most delicious meals of my time in Bhutan at a farmhouse there. It was simple: local red rice, cooked greens, potato-chili-and-cheese (kewa datshi), a fried egg, but everything was straight from the organic-by-default fields, and tasted it. Eggs are a special delicacy, because imported Indian eggs are banned by fears of bird flu, and local eggs are insufficient to meet the demand. A dozen eggs is selling for 120 ngultrum ($3.00), an exorbitant sum where a decent wage is 5000 nu to 6000 nu per month ($120 - $150).
Things are going very well so far. The Bhutanese system is organized and efficient, especially if you know the right people. The down side, if there is one, is that those same people insist on taking care of you 24/7, meaning that there’s no privacy and relatively little spontaneity. My team – the counterpart from the District office (Prem), the driver (Tshering), and I – are together 24 hours a day. We’re staying at Prem’s apartment (saving me hotel fees), after having stayed with a village family and at a fabulous monastery guesthouse, complete with hot water and a shower (better than Prem’s apartment in that way) last week. The Khenpo of the monastery is one of those very wise people whose shining, peaceful face attests to the benefits of meditation
Fortunately, Prem and Tshering are both very good natured, and easy-to-get-along-with. They have a funny “Moonlighting” dynamic going on, with lots of good-natured flirting and teasing. Though he’s married and has a two-month-old baby (or perhaps because of that), Tshering daily professes his love for Prem. She’s more than a decade younger than him, and, at 23, enjoying the life of a single working girl. She rebuffs him, but maintains just enough warmth to keep the banter going. Later in the week, we’ll set off on a trek to remote Merak – a ten hour walk – and spend a couple days there. If I can get permission, we’ll go on to Sakteng, another ten hour walk from Merak. Both these villages are off-limits to tourists, because of the very traditional yak-herding way of life of the people. My friends and helpers are insistent that I take the opportunity to go up there – when else am I going to have the chance?
Though foreigners have come to Trashigang since at least the ‘80’s when a bunch of Canadian teachers were based in the area, I am still somewhat of a curiosity. As I chatted on my cellphone from the porch last night, two boys walked by, slowing to crawl with their mouths hanging open as they took in the enormity of what they were seeing: a philingpa speaking English into her mobile phone. Wow.
Things are so different from the last time I was here. Thimphu has grown by 30-50% in the past five years; some call it the fastest growing city in Asia. Though it sounds like hyperbole, the annual 10+ % growth rate is hard to match. Construction is everywhere, though that should be over soon, as there’s been a royal decree that it be completed by the end of February, in deference to the March elections.
It’s now possible to get a cup of real coffee – or even espresso – in at least two different places. When I saw “cappuccino” on a menu, I skeptically asked “How do you make it?” “With an espresso machine,” was the nonchalant reply. Ok, sign me up. A few new ethnic restaurants, including Thai and Chinese, have sprung up, increasing the options for eating in Thimphu. But still, everything pretty much taste the same, because everyone has access to the same ingredients. The pizza joint in the one exception – honest to God real pizza that would stand up well to the competition in San Francisco, if not New Haven.
On the drive east, changes were apparent as well. Towns I remember as single rows of shops along the road have blossomed into multi-streeted burgs. Trashiyangtse, where I spent the summers of 2001 and 2002, had only two shops, one of which had a TV, and vast streets of open field. The fields have been filled in with houses, roads, and shops, with satellite TV dishes perched on top. Power lines now march up and down hills across the country, backed up by gigantic high tension towers that are much more familiar in the context of plastic subdivisions. Electricity is supposed to reach everywhere by 2008. A boom in rural road construction has made it possible for remote villages to sell their produce and access schools and health care more easily.
Everyone is abuzz about 2008 – though as a consultant attached to a government office, I can have no opinion. In addition to the first ever democratic elections, Bhutan will celebrate the Centenary of its hereditary monarchy, the Wangchuk dynasty established in 1907, and the Coronation of its Fifth King. Though the latter two events could reasonably have happened in 2007 – as the Fourth King has already abdicated the throne and handed power over to his son – this is an inauspicious year, so all celebrations, as well as many marriages, were delayed until next year.
In such a small society, where the gossip mill works more quickly than the official media outlets, let alone the internet, it is difficult for people to separate personal alliances and affiliations from political choices. There is much discussion of bribery and veiled threats to get uneducated villagers to join political parties. Accusations of impropriety are flying between the two more-established parties (a third party has just filed with the Election Commission), and people worry that politics has already gotten dirty. It seems difficult to launch a democracy when so many people are still illiterate – uneducated people ask their educated friends or village leaders whom they should vote for, in direct contradiction of the rules of this democracy (which demands secrecy about voting choices). Civil servants are not allowed to join political parties. Anyone who wants to run for office must resign his/ her public service position. Because of their vast influence in this deeply religious society, members of the religious bodies are not allowed to speak about politics, or even to vote. Some have raised concerns about disenfranchisement, but I doubt this will change until at least 2013, when the next elections are scheduled to be held.
Those who feel marginalized in the society – villagers in remote areas, especially in the east, and ethnic Nepalis, in particular – look forward to the change that the election may bring. Others, devoted to the King, see no need for elections, and wish that the government would keep providing for them in its paternalistic way.
***
I’ve encountered my first hitch this morning – turns out that two permits are needed to visit the remote areas of Trashigang – and I have neither. Getting them requires calls and faxes to Thimphu, on the other side of the country… Hopefully the permits will show up by Friday (tomorrow is a holiday: Descending Day of Lord Buddha), and we can depart on Saturday.
Things are going very well so far. The Bhutanese system is organized and efficient, especially if you know the right people. The down side, if there is one, is that those same people insist on taking care of you 24/7, meaning that there’s no privacy and relatively little spontaneity. My team – the counterpart from the District office (Prem), the driver (Tshering), and I – are together 24 hours a day. We’re staying at Prem’s apartment (saving me hotel fees), after having stayed with a village family and at a fabulous monastery guesthouse, complete with hot water and a shower (better than Prem’s apartment in that way) last week. The Khenpo of the monastery is one of those very wise people whose shining, peaceful face attests to the benefits of meditation
Fortunately, Prem and Tshering are both very good natured, and easy-to-get-along-with. They have a funny “Moonlighting” dynamic going on, with lots of good-natured flirting and teasing. Though he’s married and has a two-month-old baby (or perhaps because of that), Tshering daily professes his love for Prem. She’s more than a decade younger than him, and, at 23, enjoying the life of a single working girl. She rebuffs him, but maintains just enough warmth to keep the banter going. Later in the week, we’ll set off on a trek to remote Merak – a ten hour walk – and spend a couple days there. If I can get permission, we’ll go on to Sakteng, another ten hour walk from Merak. Both these villages are off-limits to tourists, because of the very traditional yak-herding way of life of the people. My friends and helpers are insistent that I take the opportunity to go up there – when else am I going to have the chance?
Though foreigners have come to Trashigang since at least the ‘80’s when a bunch of Canadian teachers were based in the area, I am still somewhat of a curiosity. As I chatted on my cellphone from the porch last night, two boys walked by, slowing to crawl with their mouths hanging open as they took in the enormity of what they were seeing: a philingpa speaking English into her mobile phone. Wow.
Things are so different from the last time I was here. Thimphu has grown by 30-50% in the past five years; some call it the fastest growing city in Asia. Though it sounds like hyperbole, the annual 10+ % growth rate is hard to match. Construction is everywhere, though that should be over soon, as there’s been a royal decree that it be completed by the end of February, in deference to the March elections.
It’s now possible to get a cup of real coffee – or even espresso – in at least two different places. When I saw “cappuccino” on a menu, I skeptically asked “How do you make it?” “With an espresso machine,” was the nonchalant reply. Ok, sign me up. A few new ethnic restaurants, including Thai and Chinese, have sprung up, increasing the options for eating in Thimphu. But still, everything pretty much taste the same, because everyone has access to the same ingredients. The pizza joint in the one exception – honest to God real pizza that would stand up well to the competition in San Francisco, if not New Haven.
On the drive east, changes were apparent as well. Towns I remember as single rows of shops along the road have blossomed into multi-streeted burgs. Trashiyangtse, where I spent the summers of 2001 and 2002, had only two shops, one of which had a TV, and vast streets of open field. The fields have been filled in with houses, roads, and shops, with satellite TV dishes perched on top. Power lines now march up and down hills across the country, backed up by gigantic high tension towers that are much more familiar in the context of plastic subdivisions. Electricity is supposed to reach everywhere by 2008. A boom in rural road construction has made it possible for remote villages to sell their produce and access schools and health care more easily.
Everyone is abuzz about 2008 – though as a consultant attached to a government office, I can have no opinion. In addition to the first ever democratic elections, Bhutan will celebrate the Centenary of its hereditary monarchy, the Wangchuk dynasty established in 1907, and the Coronation of its Fifth King. Though the latter two events could reasonably have happened in 2007 – as the Fourth King has already abdicated the throne and handed power over to his son – this is an inauspicious year, so all celebrations, as well as many marriages, were delayed until next year.
In such a small society, where the gossip mill works more quickly than the official media outlets, let alone the internet, it is difficult for people to separate personal alliances and affiliations from political choices. There is much discussion of bribery and veiled threats to get uneducated villagers to join political parties. Accusations of impropriety are flying between the two more-established parties (a third party has just filed with the Election Commission), and people worry that politics has already gotten dirty. It seems difficult to launch a democracy when so many people are still illiterate – uneducated people ask their educated friends or village leaders whom they should vote for, in direct contradiction of the rules of this democracy (which demands secrecy about voting choices). Civil servants are not allowed to join political parties. Anyone who wants to run for office must resign his/ her public service position. Because of their vast influence in this deeply religious society, members of the religious bodies are not allowed to speak about politics, or even to vote. Some have raised concerns about disenfranchisement, but I doubt this will change until at least 2013, when the next elections are scheduled to be held.
Those who feel marginalized in the society – villagers in remote areas, especially in the east, and ethnic Nepalis, in particular – look forward to the change that the election may bring. Others, devoted to the King, see no need for elections, and wish that the government would keep providing for them in its paternalistic way.
***
I’ve encountered my first hitch this morning – turns out that two permits are needed to visit the remote areas of Trashigang – and I have neither. Getting them requires calls and faxes to Thimphu, on the other side of the country… Hopefully the permits will show up by Friday (tomorrow is a holiday: Descending Day of Lord Buddha), and we can depart on Saturday.
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