Heaven Can Wait
Written By Dr. Dorji Wangchuk
Time is not the same in all societies and communities. In traditional Himalayan communities, time is cyclical and dictated by nature and events
Lamga village, Athang, Wangdue – The roosters sound for the second time, one after another, and jostle me up from my sleep. I then hear my host starting the fire in the kitchen. I doze back to my dreams. Another wake-up call comes around 6 am, which makes me sleepily reach for my phone to check the time and see if any WhatsApp messages have pinged in. But there is no Internet service in this valley so I just put away the Samsung and say my little prayer – and grab a book. After reading for an hour or so, I doze off again.
The village of Lawa Lamga was the last frontier of modernisation in Bhutan. The first school was established in 2010, mobile phone service came in 2015, a Basic Health Unit was built in 2016, a farm road was carved in 2017, and finally, electricity was in 2018. The first generation of students are completing high school only next year. Until 2009, not a single child attended school in this village.
Sacred time? – Of family, farm, and forest
Life in rural Bhutan is simple – revolving around family, farm, and forest. Time is dictated by nature and not by the clock. As American sociologist Robert Levine would put it, it is “event time” out here and not clock time. You often hear someone reminding others, “Sun is almost down. Time to regroup the cattle”. Or “Let’s meet after I have offered water on the altar”. Yes, time here is measured by the position of the Sun or by the daily spiritual routine such as offering and removing water from the altar bowls. It is never based on the watch. And of course, my favourite is, “I will come after I release the cows”, which could be anywhere between 6 am and 10 am. Everything is flexible, everything is in slow motion and no one is in a hurry.
People work hard too. Men wake up at the first or second call of the roosters (~4 am) and slip out to the jungle to collect firewood, cane, or bamboo. Women make their way into the kitchen on the second or third call and start making breakfast and animal feeds. Older grandparents chant sacred mantras and fill the air with their reassuring presence. The researcher (me) is the last to be up. around 8 am. I am forgiven because I am an urban guy. “Town people don’t have to wake up that early,” I am told. I feel less guilty. Gradually, though, I also find myself adjusting to their circadian rhythm.
They have all the time in the world. They have time for everyone.
For the day entire, life seems to roll out with a secret rhythm – saying a prayer, feeding the pigs, tiling the land, weaving baskets, building sheds, repairing a fence, collecting firewood – or simply chatting around a fire and having some tea or bangchang (a local fermented drink). People here seem to have all the time in the world. And they also seem to have time for everyone. Anyone can stray into your house unannounced and no one is turned away. A tea invite is a minimum, ara if you drink, or a meal if you crash during mealtime. No one is offended. Instead, going “empty mouth” is considered inauspicious for the host family. I had more tea in this valley in one week than I have in my entire year elsewhere.
People here live simply and sustainably. They do nothing to exploit the Mother Earth. They only take what they need. And their needs are simple. On the other hand, they are very generous. They give more than what they have. Every day there is someone who drops by with a gift of an egg, a bunch of green vegetables, or a stick of tender cane.
Community before self
Rural Bhutan is about community, sharing, and co-existing. Everyone puts their social self forward and not their individual needs or greed. Decisions of the community are taken through consensus – not through a show of power, position, or privileges. Disputes are settled mutually. It is like how a German sociologist, Ferdinand Tonnies, referred to as a Gesellschaft world. Helping each other, and looking out for one another are a norm – and not an exception. My host, for example, is building a house and the whole village gathers every morning to work pro bono. Some even go beyond. They sponsor all the meals for the day.
Heaven can wait
If time is their biggest asset, time will also be their biggest threat to the traditional and idyllic lifestyle. For, time will bring the inevitable change. Change can already be seen around – in the form of a rice cooker, a power tiller, or a water boiler – or candy wrappers lying around.
Still, to lift from the title of one of my favourite Hollywood movies, Heaven Can Wait
