I know the parallel is outlandish. But I felt somewhat like the Connecticut Yankee at King Arthur's Court, at least in the sartorial sense. In my suit and tie, I was such an odd man out in that out-of-this-world ambience of the Bhutanese Tsogdu, the National Assembly. In the gilded auditorium, under the ornately painted circular ceiling, sat men in their kho, a long robe tied around the waist by a slim belt, and some women in their ankle-length gowns, called kira. Ministers, officials and members were to be identified by the colour of their scarves as well as brightly-coloured ceremonial shoes and stockings.At the far end sat King Jigme Singye Wanchchuk behind the Speaker's podium. King and country were in serious business, participating in the momentous deliberations as Druk Gyalpo (Precious Ruler of the Dragon People) surrendered powers to the Tsogdu. The Assembly was almost in mourning as the monarch declared he would henceforth be only the head of State, not the head of government.Outside, the monsoon clouds hung low over the Tashicho Dzong, the seat of government, from where the king had ruled his little kingdom for the last 26 years, and his forefathers since 1907.
It was a time of change in this last Shangri-la. But there were other signs of change too. Bhutan is the only country where you wake up without the morning newspaper or TV. The kingdom's only paper is a weekly tabloid. Well, you do get dated newspapers and magazines from India, Thailand and some other countries, courtesy the Druk Air flights. But times are changing. And it happened to be that crazy World Cup time.
The passing of absolute monarchy had moved the people less than the showing of World Cup soccer matches live. The king permitted some sport and cultural organisations to arrange live TV shows of the matches, the nation's first. People trudged up and down mountain ridges and along the Thimphu River all day to turn up in good time. It truly was Bhutan's tryst with the modern world. The folks cheered at Ronaldoas much as at the beauties in the galleries.
But it's also time to sift myth from reality. True, the king banned all television dish antennae in 1993 to save his country from Mammon's moral and cultural pollution. But the popular notion abroad of Bhutan being as dreary a world as its rugged northern mountains is simply outdated. The streets are lined with shops selling all sorts of video cassettes. Some hotels offer them at Nu 500 (or Rs 500) per night. And getting soft porn is no big deal.
If you are tired of the kho and kira regime of the street and official get-togethers, you can always take a break at any of the countless bars and restaurants. But Sabarna is a special place. In this restaurant in a side street, in the evenings, you could meet Thimphu's budding intellectuals. Since Thimphu is a bureaucratic town, you would also run into officials. But Sabarna takes you back to the world of freewheeling talk, booze and western music.
But none of those sweet ladies talking ofMichelangelo. Feminism hasn't yet scaled Bhutan's mountains. The woman's place is very much at home. But men and women freely choose their partners and as freely divorce. As for booze, it's the man's life. "I've had a hard life," old men would tell you, "but now I do just two things -- make my drink in the daytime and drink it at night."
But there's the other Thimphu -- the UN town. As the economy is largely donor-driven, there are men and women from various UN bodies and from countries like Denmark, Switzerland and Norway who are helping Bhutan with diverse development schemes. Most of them want Bhutan to retain its unique cultural identity, even as it makes remarkable socioeconomic progress.
It has its problems too, mainly because of the flow of immigrants from neighbouring Nepal. Some time back, when a journalist asked the king how the world could help Bhutan, the baseball-loving monarch replied, "By helping Nepal."
Copyright © 1998 Indian Express Newspapers (Bombay) Ltd.
