Come 2007 and Bhutan will cross a significant milestone in its evolution as a nation. The installation of Gongsar Ugyen Wangchuck as Bhutan's first hereditary monarch of the Wangchuck dynasty following the unification of the country was the beginning of a brave new world for this jewel of the Himalayas.
The early acknowledgement and provision of education as a powerful instrument in the creation and advancement of the idea of nation and nationhood has produced rich dividends. A call to engage the marvels of the Bhutanese mind, to affirm and celebrate the inner and the essential, to brave and to beckon the possible and the positive of the outer, and to commit the genius and creativity of the Bhutanese people has been a decision at once enlightened, at once courageous.
The
national flag adorns the Bhutanese skies, the national anthem beckons the
pupils in their tens of thousands, six days a week, nine months in a year
across the length and breadth of our country calling us unto ourselves.
The courses and curricula, the songs and the dances, the prayers and the
observances, ceremonies and celebrations all serve to bring us home to
ourselves and to our priorities. They bring us together - in our actions,
in our thoughts, in our imaginations.
Sengdhen Community Primary School in Samtse's Dorokha Dungkhag is a case in point. Designed to bring the light of learning to one of the most disadvantaged communities in one of the remotest corners of the country, this school is the Lhop's window to the rest of Bhutan and to the world. Followers of a unique way of life with a distinct language, beliefs and rituals, customs and costumes, the Lhops or Doyas inhabit the seven villages of Jigme, Singye, Wangchuck, Sanglung, Satakha, Sengdhen and Lapchegaon that consist of some 120 households with about 1,000 members in all. Deeply inward-looking and rather exclusive, the community chose to remain on its own for hundreds of years until the government tried to gently draw it into the mainstream of national life.
As dawn breaks and the whistle blows, the 393 boarders scurry and scramble towards the lone water-tap that feeds the 500 plus school population. A quick splash on the face and the little ones run, tying their belt and pulling the gho as morning study begins. A round of supervised study, some cleaning and it is time for breakfast.
As the captain calls the house to order and unfurls the national flag, the best part of the assembly is, of course, the singing of the national anthem which resounds in the little village and immediately connects everybody to a bigger reality and a sublimer entity. Sengdhen becomes Bhutan. The classrooms are minimally furnished and the facilities are spartan. The walls are a sparse text of mathematical symbols, science formulae, grammatical rules, some proverbs, poems, and health messages and teaching aids. The mid-November wind already whistles through the windows and corridors. The classrooms echo with the sound of learning as teaching goes on.
A visit to their hostel in the evening will be enough to challenge even the most robust optimism. The batteries of the solar-powered equipment have served the school faithfully, but replacing the crippled ones has been a proposition too expensive to afford. The best the children do, therefore, is to improvise. But it is improvisation stretched to its limits. Groups of eight children sit around a low, feeble kerosene lamp and do their homework or try to goad their eyes to see the letters. There are smaller groups at times. Some have a half-burnt candle-stick that rushes to its end in the wake of the night-wind that takes liberties with the open windows. Others have no resource. They do the next best thing - huddle up in thin blankets and invite sleep on rough wooden beds. One cannot but wonder how these children will compete with their peers in better surroundings in the more advanced centres. There are no secure doors, but the head-teacher assures that there have been absolutely no untoward incidents of any kind so far. It has been achieving better than average results in all the Class VI examinations and the pass percentage in other classes is quite high. The cultural and sporting life of the school is very rich. It was the winner of the inter-school football and volleyball tournament in Panbari recently. It hosts scouting and sports events regularly. "Perennial shortage of teachers is our biggest problem," longest-serving head-teacher Kinley Tenzin agonises. "Next is the challenge of transporting over 70 tonnes of food items from Samtse to feed our big family of close to 400 members."
"Teaching the children of this remote place is both a joy as well as a challenge" to Siwan Rai, who has been here for over six years. "The innocence of the children and their respect are unforgettable" for others. For 70-year old Mongal Dhoj Rai, who donated the land to build the school and the upcoming lhakhang, the coming of the school to their locality has provided "eyes to the community". Dorji Doya is "deeply grateful to the government for giving us a school in our poor community". Some 331 students have graduated from Class VI since the school admitted 108 children in PP in 1987. The non-formal education programme has made its own critical contribution. The teachers are convinced that the advent of the school has brought about visible changes in the general life of the Lhop community.
Events like the celebration of our national foundation day or the birthday of His Majesty the King are much-anticipated occasions. The whole community converges on the school grounds to partake of the joy of the celebrations and to be part of the larger idea that is the nation and the symbols of our national life. Sengdhen Community Primary School has been a bulwark for fostering a sense of national consciousness in this fabled part of this land.
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