Always plenty

At an elevation of over 2200 meters (7300 feet) and surrounded by Himalayan peaks up to 5500 m (18,000 ft), Paro International Airport is considered one of the world’s most challenging. Landing here is only allowed during the day and under good visual conditions.  Just a few skilled pilots from Drukair, the national airline, are permitted to attempt the feat, skillfully navigating the mountains and then dropping down quickly onto the small airfield.  OMG, is that Everest out the window?! 

Landing in Paro

 

Breathtaking Bhutan

If you know anything about Bhutan, a teeny speck of a country squished in between the superpowers of India and China, it’s probably the country’s reputation as the “happiest place on earth” and the “Kingdom of Happiness.” 

I can vouch that the Bhutanese are indeed a wonderfully pleasant folk to be amongst, although – and I don’t mean to quibble here – “happy” is really too Western in its connotation.  Perhaps the better description is serene, or content, equanimous, tranquil, compassionate. The pacifist tenets of Buddhism, the state religion, permeate everyday life here.  A definite annatā (selflessness) is palpable and the culture simply oozes spirituality.  The landscape is dotted with dzongs, the massive, majestic monasteries; festooned with prayer flags crisscrossing the countryside; peppered with prayer wheels, and studded with stupas.  I found the setting very soothing and at this altitude, combined with the exertion of our daily hikes, it figuratively and literally took my breath away.  

 

Apart from their faith, what makes the Bhutanese so “happy”?

Thanks to its remoteness and inaccessibility, the country was until recently effectively cut off from the rest of the world.  But it was this isolation that enabled the country to preserve its identity and keep most of its religious and customs intact, and it is their unique culture that leads to a certain peace of mind.

Of course it is tempting to romanticize such a world.  Those of us fed up with our society’s extreme consumerism and egocentrism are easily enamored with Bhutan’s simpler, easier lifestyle: the unhurried pace of BST (Bhutan Stretchable Time), the traditional architecture and dress (especially the men in ghos and kneesocks), the daily visits to temples and recitation of prayers, the revered monks and nuns in their rich red robes. There are no stoplights in the entire country (nope, not a single one).  The national dish is a comforting concoction of chili and cheese.  The national pastime is archery, a sport that requires slow precision.  Even the lousy roads are a forgivable part of the infatuation. 

It is true that the fourth Bhutanese king introduced the concept of Gross National Happiness as opposed to Gross National Product as an indicator of the population’s general wellbeing in 1972.  The government does actually measure GNH using a metric based on a comprehensive survey administered to a broad sampling of its citizens every two years.  GNH rests on four pillars: good governance, the natural environment, sustainable growth, and cultural values. 

Questions on the 38-page English-language document include:

·      How many people are very close to you that you can count on them if you have emotional problems?

·      How often do you practice meditation?

·      Have you been able to concentrate on what you’re doing?

·      Have you lost much sleep over worry?

·      Do you feel capable of making decisions about things?

·      Do you ever think of yourself as a worthless person?

·      How anxious are you about old-age abandonment?

·      How long would it take you to walk to the nearest healthcare center?

·      Historical literacy: How well do you know local legends and folktales? Names of the 5 kings? Traditional songs?

·      How good is your ecological literacy (names of plants and wild animals in your area)?

·      What indigenous skills (weaving, embroidery, papermaking, carving, etc) do you have?

·      How important is the Bhutanese code of etiquette and conduct?

·      Do you have a balanced use of time?

·      How strong is your sense of belonging to your local community?

·      How many yak do you own?

·      How much do you trust your neighbors?

·      How safe do you feel when walking alone after dark from ghosts and spirits?

·      Ecological resilience: Did soil erosion or landslide significantly affect your property in past 12 months?

·      How do you mostly dispose of household waste?

·      What kind of toilet facility does your household use?  

Such is the importance placed on tourism these days that our guide Tashi could call the government office and pass on our request for a talk with the “minister of happiness” (whose official title is Chief Program Coordinator in the Development Cooperation Division).  The very next night, Rinchen came to our hotel with his PowerPoint presentation and cheerful confidence in the federal efforts to ensure  psychological and physical wellbeing.

An endearing, personable individual, he handed out his business card to each in the group and encouraged us to contact him with any questions we might have on the topic.  He then stayed on for dinner and photo opportunities and a glass of ara, and even gave me his commemorative royal pin. 

Rinchen and me

But can nirvana be calculated?  It is undoubtedly a lovely concept, and while the government seems sincere in its concern for the welfare of its people, such a holistic measurement is entirely subjective.  So? What’s wrong with that? Pessimistic critics claim that “happiness” can be defined as the politicians see fit, and the criteria can even be manipulated to suit their needs.  They say that GNH emphasizes spiritual and karmic factors over material and economic, that it is unscientific and lacks mathematical precision.  

Well, I say phooey! to the bah-humbug types at the OECD.  Perhaps GNH is exactly what should be foremost in driving development.