“Happiness is a place.” This is the slogan of Bhutan’s tourism campaign which I saw in increasing frequency as soon as I arrived in this Himalayan kingdom. Many people travel long distances to Bhutan in search for happiness, something they can’t quite find amid the modern trappings of their lives. Happiness is so synonymous with Bhutan, some even claim that this small country has the happiest people in the world.
However, what Kinga explained to us throughout our journey in western Bhutan gave us deeper insights into what this pursuit of happiness is all about.
Our second day in Thimphu began with a short stop at a viewpoint where we could see Tashichho Dzong with golden rice paddies gloriously bathed in the warm morning sun. Most of the Bhutanese capital, Kinga said, used to look like this. However, as more and more people move from the countryside to Thimphu, the area of the city’s arable land shrinks as the demand for housing keeps increasing – though all of them must adhere to a regulation mandating all structures in the country to be built using traditional Bhutanese architectural elements, a standard which applies even to international luxury resorts.
In a TED Talk given two years ago, Tshering Tobgay, Bhutan’s former prime minister, mentioned how the fourth king of modern Bhutan formulated a new approach to measuring progress which focused on balancing economic growth with careful social development, environmental sustainability and cultural preservation. This concept became known as Gross National Happiness (GNH), and the world has been captivated by it ever since.
The main architect of Bhutan’s foundation for preparing the country to embrace the future is Jigme Singye Wangchuck, the kingdom’s fourth monarch who ascended the throne in 1972 when he was only 17 following the death of his father, the third king. Taking up what the previous king had left unfinished, especially with regard to ending Bhutan’s isolation and leading the country toward modernization, Jigme Singye Wangchuck pioneered a new approach to growth. “Gross National Happiness is more important than Gross National Product” is his most widely quoted remark made during an interview in the early years of his reign. Later he also stressed the importance of attaining self-reliance and preserving Bhutan’s sovereignty and independence which, coincidentally or not, was addressed just one year after anti-royalist riots took place in neighboring Sikkim, another Buddhist kingdom in the Himalayas. Sikkim was eventually absorbed into India as its Hindu population outnumbered Buddhists, an event that might have contributed to the expulsion of more than a hundred thousand Nepali-speaking citizens across southern Bhutan in the 1990s.
With Phuntsho taking the wheel of our white minivan, we sped across the capital while avoiding the downtown area. “We won’t go through the city center because it’s rush hour,” Kinga explained. Coming from Jakarta, I bet rush hour in Thimphu would feel like a weekend in the Indonesian megalopolis. We were going to a ridge in the south of the city where a colossal Buddha statue sits midway up the hillside, prominently visible from any point in Thimphu. Built in time to mark the fourth king’s 60th birthday, this gleaming monument couldn’t have been a more conspicuous display of the deep reverence toward Jigme Singye Wangchuck and the importance of Buddhism as the state religion.
Kinga elucidated what the fourth king had done to his kingdom, from introducing democracy to enacting a constitution many people around the world would perceive as progressive. “’The king invited people from all walks of life to take part in the drafting of the constitution, including monks, students, and local and foreign experts.” The end result was a wide-ranging constitution which dictates, among other things, how at least 60% of the country must remain covered in forests.
“Democracy is something people in other countries fight for, but in Bhutan it was imposed by the king. When the fourth king toured the country to introduce it, a lot of people were really sad because they thought it was the end of the monarchy,” Kinga added.
Bhutan held its first general election for the National Assembly in 2008 and the democratic process has been thriving with the latest election occurring in mid-October, less than a week after my visit to the country. However, despite formally being no longer an absolute monarch, the king still retains his power in some areas, including appointing the judges of the Supreme Court, the chief of the anti-corruption body, and the CEO of the national holding and investment company, Druk Holding & Investments (DHI). One interesting article in the constitution requires the king or queen to retire at the age of 65, and should the nation have an unpopular monarch, he/she can be forced to abdicate with a two-thirds majority vote by the directly elected parliament members. This provision was purposefully included in the constitution to prevent future kings or queens from abusing their power.
“The fourth king himself abdicated when he was 51 years old. And now he’s often seen cycling around the country,” Lotay, the co-owner of the tour company we took, later told us.
The Bhutanese certainly didn’t embrace democracy wholeheartedly, and what I read on Kuensel – Bhutan’s English-language newspaper which was available on the flight from Singapore – confirmed that its negative impacts have become a growing concern among the people. Candidates from both parties competing in the latest election were generally on the same page about how attacking the other’s programs rather than focusing on one’s own was among the things they disliked about the campaign stage. Some were upset that the election process had caused division among the people. This indeed happens in places that practice democracy, although it seems to remain the best means to prevent the concentration of too much power in just one person or party.
From the same newspaper I learned a fact I was never aware of: Bhutan has a growing national debt that is becoming a bigger problem over time, and this issue was used by politicians from both sides to convince the people to vote for them. However, Lotay, who together with his brother started their travel business after finishing their studies in the U.S., convinced us that the king will always safeguard democracy in Bhutan.
“Democracy is like a ship, and the king is its anchor.”
Self-reliance is a recurring theme several politicians used for their campaigns, and some short visits to artistic workshops across Thimphu provided us with a glimpse of what the Bhutanese are capable of creating. First, Kinga took us to the National Institute for Zorig Chusum where young people study craftsmanship and artistry, obviously all in Bhutanese traditional style as it is an important aspect of GNH. Across the river, Kinga showed us a small factory where papers are made using simple machinery. Witnessing how the staff members carefully made thin layers of paper by sifting through a murky white concoction of daphne pulp, before gently releasing a wet sheet onto a neat pile, was not only fascinating, but somehow also therapeutic.
On our way to the place where we would have lunch, Phuntsho stopped by a tall white chorten (Bhutanese style stupa) whose spire gleamed with a bright sheen. We were at the Memorial Chorten, completed in 1974 to honor the third king, Jigme Dorji Wangchuck. Around the chorten’s base, pilgrims – mostly the elderly – draped in gho (for men) and kira (for women) circumambulated several times below the midday sun. Some of them sought refuge in a shaded corner of the compound while spinning giant prayer wheels. “When you see a lot of old people gather around the chorten like this, usually the following day there will be a festival,” Kinga told me. Unfortunately the next day we were scheduled to leave for Punakha, a two-hour drive to the east of the capital.
We left the chorten and headed to a district with a pockmarked road that led to what seemed to be a commercial area, where we disembarked first while Phuntsho tried to find a space just large enough to park the minivan. Kinga led us to one of the multi-story buildings, which upon closer inspection was in fact an old shopping center, with its shops mostly closed and its corridors deserted. We ascended a flight of stairs to the second floor, and there it was, a rather humble venue to have another round of the local cuisine.
Already quite familiar with the names of some Bhutanese dishes, James and I ordered ema datshi, shamu datshi, and suja. While waiting for the food to arrive, I paid attention to the restaurant’s ornaments, its old window, and the overall ambiance of the place. Had Kinga and Phuntsho not brought us here, we wouldn’t have known to visit this restaurant in the first place. Soon enough they both joined us and Kinga ordered some more dishes for us to try. A few minutes later a young waitress came with a number of small bowls, each filled with different items which all looked delicious as my eyes ran through one cheese-based specialty to another. The suja was even creamier than what I had enjoyed the previous day, the ema datshi spicier and the other dishes equally tantalizing. We couldn’t have been happier that Bhutanese food turned out to be one of the highlights of this trip.
It was another filling lunch, and just like the day before we ended up with really full stomachs. But as we were about to leave the restaurant, Phuntsho gave us something I wasn’t too familiar with. “Dessert,” he said with a big grin. It was in fact a package of dolma, a mixture of areca nut, lime paste, and betel leaf which come individually but are chewed together to induce a stimulating effect on one’s body – and red-stained gums. Carefully we took one of each, wrapped them all together, and put the bundle inside our mouths and started chewing. We instantly looked at each other, surprised by how the combination of the three tasted; while I could handle the leaf and lime paste, it was the areca nut that was the hardest on the palate. “People in eastern Indonesia also have something similar to this,” I explained to Phuntsho while still struggling to mix the nut with the others. “But this is the first time I have had it,” I added. Phuntsho seemed to be amused, although right away he told us we could spit it out if we didn’t like it. Luckily, after that we only had sweet and juicy Bhutanese apples for dessert.
We then headed to the start of a trail which Kinga had told us about the day before, while I was still trying to wash down the bizarre sensation in my mouth from the dolma during our short ride. The trek at Sangaygang, the name of the hill, began just below a communication tower, and the rolling clouds above Thimphu’s skies unexpectedly provided us with a shade throughout most of the hike. Different species of birds chirped from the tree branches amid the canopy of the pine forest. This reminded me of Sri Lanka, a fellow Buddhist-majority country, where animals roam the land freely and safely without having to encounter much harassment inflicted by humans. However, in spite of this compassionate attitude toward sentient beings, Bhutan’s own national animal, the takin, is now a threatened species largely due to their shrinking habitat and competition from domesticated yaks.
At the end of our hike, the view of Thimphu unfolded right in front of our eyes, and before long the sun reappeared, giving us ample time to take photos of the Bhutanese capital from this dramatic vantage point. Although it’s not a big city to begin with – it has less than 120,000 people – Thimphu packed in a lot of interesting sights and experiences. We wished that we had more time to explore the capital, but the following day we had to leave for Punakha Valley, a notably different place from Thimphu. It was warmer over there and the dzong was even more ornate than the already impressive Tashiccho Dzong.