Beyond the Sky and the Earth_ A Journey Into Bhutan - Jamie Zeppa [89]
There must be more to it than this because there are night patrols on campus, room checks each evening. When the students come to visit, they speak so softly I often can’t hear half of what they say. Sometimes, one stands at the window, watching, while the others talk. There are spies now, they say. They have to be very careful. Some southern students have received pamphlets, they tell me, calling for the southern Bhutanese to rise up and demand their rights, demand democracy.
“But do you think Bhutan is really ready for democracy?” I ask. “What do you think is necessary for a country to be a democracy? ”
They do not know, they whisper. They haven’t thought about it.
“But how can you support something you haven’t thought about?” I demand.
They look alarmed at my rising voice and shake their heads frantically. They cannot talk about these things here.
They do not come to visit me in mixed groups anymore. Even Nima and Arun come separately. “Where’s Nima these days?” I ask Arun. Studying. Busy. Don’t know, miss. I feel I can ask Nima anything, but he is a terrible source of information. He spends most of his time in the library reading religious books. When I ask what’s happening, he says, “The Nepali students don’t want to wear national dress.”
“Oh, Nima, even I know that! What is really going on?”
“I don’t know, miss, and I don’t want to know. Buddhism teaches us not to get involved in politics. It distracts us from the real things.” He has more important things to think about: he has been helping one of the Dzongkha lopens translate a Buddhist book into English, and he is trying to decide if he should become a monk after he finishes class XII.
“But Nima, there must be values in Buddhism that people could apply to politics. Like tolerance and seeking the truth. Didn’t the Buddha say to question everything? Wouldn’t that help get to the bottom of things? ”
“Yes, miss, but I don’t think we can apply Buddhism to politics. Look what happened to Tibet. And Sikkim also.”
I am chilled by this. I know full well what happened to Tibet but nothing about Sikkim beyond the Fantomes’ mention of tragedy. I make a mental note to find out.
The whispered drifts and snatches grow more distressing. I hear that some students at the National Institute of Education in southern Bhutan have been arrested for writing pamphlets. I hear they have been tortured in prison. Tortured? I ask the students who bring this news. Surely not tortured? This is a Buddhist country. They look at each other and shake their heads at my naivete. I will remember their looks later when I find in my Sharchhop grammar book a section entitled “Punishment,” which contains translations of “to torture, torture instruments, to slap, whip, fetters/chains.”
I hear that one of those involved has committed suicide in detention. I hear that two British teachers at the institute have fled the country. I hear they were also involved. I hear they helped write a pamphlet. I hear they were not really involved, they only edited the grammar. I hear that all foreigners will have to leave the country because of them. I hear this is just a rumor. I hear a hundred different fleeting whispered stories but I do not hear anyone talking openly. Without talk, nothing will be explained or understood, solved or learned. I want to write it on the sides of mountains, across the autumn sky. TALK TALK TALK.
Each week in the library I search the newspaper for some mention of the