Kuensel’s Kencho Wangdi who recently visited Laya writes about the changes taking place in one of Bhutan’s remotest geogs.
A cigarette is lit. Nine Layap teenagers wait outside a house in the cold October night. As the cigarette is passed from one shivering mouth to the other thick wisps of smoke is visible in the anxious flickering of torch lights. They have come to watch the “video”. Negotiation ends at Nu 15 each. They all chatter excitedly and enter. Bhutanese MTV songs and a foreign film are welcomed with rapt attention. Behind, a generator noisily sputters.The future of Laya lies in the hands of Laya school students.
Isolated and untouched by modern civilization for decades, its exotic women with conical bamboo hats and its unique dress and customs, used and re-used in numerous books and endless travel brochures, the remote northern geog of Laya, is today on the cusp of change.
A decade ago, the semi-nomadic yak herders Layaps called their home be-yul, the hidden land, where Shabdrung Ngawang Namgyal first entered Bhutan. Sitting at 3,800m above sea level on the lap of the 7,100m Masagang, one of Bhutan’s 20 spectacular peaks, Laya had little contacts beyond its confines, some of the only exposure being an occasional sponsored trip to Thimphu by a group of Layaps to partake in cultural shows.
When Laya opened to tourism in the early 80s, women and children gathered around the “white guests” (tourists) and stared in awe. A discarded canned food tin caused a scramble. There was no school, no health units, no livestock units.
Today tourists are greeted by school children with: “Where are you from? What is your name? “ in English. Today Laya boasts a wireless telephone, a basic health unit (BHU), a livestock unit, two non-formal education centres, a renewable natural resources centre, a Jigme Dorji national park branch office and four shops. Solar panels are used by more and more Layaps. The number of yaks have increased manifold and mules and horses are a familiar sight in Laya, they being the measure of wealth. Laya’s gup Passang says that about 90 percent of the geog’s 140 households own either yaks or horses or both. Government had also given number of yaks to the people as soelra.
“Layap’s lives have become much better,” said 49-year old Laya Tongra Damchoe who, after a stint at the royal academy of performing arts in Thimphu in the 70s, returned home to tend to yaks. Damchoe told Kuensel that in the old days rice was carried on backs and took five days to reach Gasa from Punakha. “We used to sleep in caves and under trees.”
Ugyen Tshering, 40, a veteran guide who has been trekking past Laya for years believes that Laya’s growth has galloped faster than Thimphu’s. Before houses were few and far between and most were in ruins with roofs fallen apart, Ugyen said. Today there were many houses, colourfully painted and fitted with solar panels. “During annual religious ceremony in Punakha, Layaps would gladly butcher pigs for food and alcohol. They don’t do that no more.”
Lhaba Tshering, 27, who studied till class nine in Gasa and who is now a non-formal education teacher in his village said that the people of Punakha and Gasa no longer called them “bjops”. “They call us Layaps.”
Layaps are hard working and have taken advantage of trade and the tourism. Tourism, in particular has contributed to the development of Laya. Yaks and ponies are used by tour companies for portering.
According to Kinley Dorji, 36, one of the 10 yak and pony contractors in Laya a horse or yak fetches between Nu 120 to Nu 200 as hire charges a day and profit a season varies between Nu 30,000 and Nu 50,000. Well established contractors earned more than Nu 100,000.
The yak is an important source of income. Laya geog has more than 5,000 yaks although it’s census records put it at only 2,000. The yak ploughs the fields, provides meat, diary products, and hair for mattresses, blankets, etc. “Except for the horns and the hoofs, the rest of the yaks’ body is valuable to us,” said Laya Tongra Damchoe.
Ponies were introduced in the early 80s by the government and has now become an important asset to Layap’s, coming next only to the yak.
Trade has been and still is the Layap’s mainstay. Barter has given way to cash trade. Layap sell Chinese goods like blankets, carpet, flasks, shoes and clothes to Punakha besides butter, cheese and chugo. Cordyceps are harvested and sold as well.
But Layaps point out that the establishment of a school and a BHU has brought about the biggest benefits to the people.
Started in 1997 from a temporary shed with less than 30 students, the Laya community school today houses about 90 students from nursery till class IV. From its first batch of students four are presently in class nine in Gasa lower secondary school.
A 24 year-old teacher Mindup Dorji, who has been in the school for three years, and who is among the four teachers there, however, told Kuensel that their biggest headache was trying to persuade parents to enroll their children. “Sometimes we have to go door to door coaxing and cajoling parents, sometimes even pretending that the Gasa dzongkhag has issued a Kasho to enroll their children,” Mindup said. Stationeries and meals, and boarding facility for students from far off villages, are provided free of charge.
The school also faces the problem of dropouts and absentees. From the 106 students that had enrolled in the beginning of the year about 16 had left by October. Teachers expect 30 more to leave with the onset of the migration season to the warmer valleys of Punakha.
Students leave because their parents want them to herd yaks. Said Ap Pema Dorji, 51: “If our children go to higher education and later when they get jobs in towns and settle there, who will look after the yaks, do business and bring home rations?”
But that attitude was changing.
The students enjoy school and have dreams and ambitions. Eight-year old Kinley Wangchuk of class II wants to be an engineer, Pema Wangchuk, 10, class II, a pilot, and Passang Thinley, 8, class II, a teacher. Nine-year old girl Tshering Gyem of class I likes studying English and wants to be a doctor. They represent the hope and future of Laya.
There is also the adult non-formal education on practical subjects like agriculture, livestock and cleanliness bringing a change in the mindset of the Layaps.
About 90 percent of the adult learners are men who take care of business and are considered the family providers. The women herd and milk the yak and do almost all field works including collecting firewood. Men is dominant by tradition. Only about 30 percent of the students in Laya school are girls. Most young girls tend to yaks in the high pasture land and are away for most of the year.
The BHU manned nurse and health assistant provides immunization and care to pregnant mothers besides other basic health services. Sometimes the BHU staff go after yak herds for immunization follow up because a mother couldn’t come to the BHU due to her yaks. Today an increasing number of Layap mothers come to deliver babies at the unit.
Gup Passang said that Laya could do with more development like a wider mule track especially from Gasa – a lifeline for the Layaps. “During winter the narrow steep track is frozen with ice or covered with snow which makes traveling extremely hazardous, and in the past yaks have fallen off the track,” Passang said.
Progress and development has brought about other inevitable changes as well. Except for a few elders, the Layap men have long since abandoned the traditional chari gho and shoe (yue-lham) for the conventional gho and socks and leather shoes. Laya Tongra Damchoe said that the art of making yue-lham was forever lost.
Only the women still wear their traditional dress against a growing preference for imported sweaters and shirts. The long over-jacket worn over their kira had disappeared. “The craft of weaving and stitching traditional clothes with wool, imported from Tibet, is dying with the old people,” said 32 year-old Lhakpa Tshering, Laya’s former chimi.
To preserve the Layap woman dress, it has been made compulsory for all girl students to wear their dress to the school.
Drinking and now smoking is a problem in Laya according to health assistant, Sangay Dorji. There are four shops in Laya and all sell cigarettes and imported and national made liquor. The Layap’s preferences have jumped from singchang to whisky, the former being considered mild. Recently a drunk man slept outside his house and froze to death. It’s not uncommon to see a father and a teenage son drinking together in bars. Assault cases are high.
The practice of polyandry that ensured that property stayed within a family is also waning. Layaps have begun to settle separately leading to land fragmentation and increasing the pressure on limited grazing land.
By December, a snow carpeted Laya is empty except a few old people. The Layaps would have migrated to Punakha to return by March with their yearly supply of rice and other essentials. As more Layaps gain exposure and more children pass through the education system their age-old routine is not as exciting as going to watch the “video” which the rich neighbour’s bought recently.
“Things change, “ said Ap Pema Dorji. “Whether it is good or bad, or simply change, is difficult to say. Sometimes old things die out for new things to grow.”
Kuensel, 4 November 2003
Anthropology of Bhutan 