Bhutan, the Himalayan kingdom the size of Switzerland with no McDonalds, no ATM machines, no traffic lights, and until five years ago no TV, is for many people a species of Shangri-La. It's as spiritual as Tibet, but without its political problems. The only hurdle for prospective travelers is the relatively high price of a visit -- a deliberate tactic set in place to limit tourism and preserve the nation's culture.
The Blessings of Bhutan is the modest work of an American couple from the banks of the McKenzie River in Oregon (which they claim resembles Bhutan, if only scenically) who have been going there since 1996, latterly to help set up a desk-top publishing company. It looks at many aspects of the country, from archery to -- rather surprisingly -- sexuality.
Bhutan is ranked 130th in the UN Development Program's ratings, close to Haiti and Bangladesh. Most visitors rate it almost infinitely higher, however, and the measure they use is one let fall by the country's king in 1987 -- "Gross National Happiness." This is no joking contrast with Gross National Product, but a serious measure of how any place might be assessed -- not by per capita income, the number of concrete roads, dams and parking lots, but by the simple quality of life. This most observers believe Bhutan's is enviably high.
Gross National Happiness -- and it's an official criterion of the Bhutanese government -- is measured by the levels of environmental protection, cultural promotion, good governance and -- the only item shared with the UN's criteria -- economic development. Clearly this last is not encouraged if it results in a decline of any of the other three.
Despite a burgeoning interest in Tantric Buddhism in the US and elsewhere, Bhutanese sexual norms are markedly different from those in the West, both more modest and more extrovert. At the country's only college, for instance, dating is forbidden, yet genital images are painted on the walls of many houses in what these authors dub sacred paint. The country appears to combine a culture of marriage and mischievous sexual play. But the former is easily dissolved by either partner, a simple fine may be payable for marital infidelity, and having more than one wife or husband is legal. Rape, however, can result in a prison sentence.
What is so attractive about this system, at least as described in this book, is that it lacks any over-reaction to sexual events, any pent-up anger, or culture of jealousy and consequent punishment -- both elements that have grown up in the West as part of the Judeo-Christian tradition. Instead, it's relaxed and practical. Erotic joking is common, seemingly, with no sense of such things being "obscene." As has often been remarked, puritanism and pornography are two faces of the same coin. Bhutan has neither -- though it does nowadays have the Internet.
Archery is more than the national sport -- it's the focus for a great part of the country's social life. While the strong men draw the bow, parties of observers gather round to sing love songs, dance the local dances, and light-heartedly insult their opponents. The target is tiny, a mere 1m-tall and 28cm wide, and placed at a distance of an astonishing 140m. To hit it at all is a cause for celebration. When Russ Carpenter, clearly not in his first youth, hit it both times on his first two attempts, his feat quickly became legendary.
But most people don't travel to places like Bhutan for the sports -- they go because, at one level or another, they seek enlightenment. And the Carpenters have a secret that lies at the heart of their short book -- that the main benefit they acquired from getting to know the country was mental, a relaxation and re-adjustment of the mind.
There is much here about the life of monks, some of it similar to things readers will be familiar with from books about Tibet. More interesting, though, is what the authors have to say about the country's modern values, not to mention its future.
Bhutan, which its inhabitants like to describe as Asia's only under-populated state, does worry these authors in some matters. TV, allowed since 1999, is now very popular, and most popular of all are so-called professional wrestling programs. This taste is viewed, surely rightly, as seriously degrading to the traditional culture in which no sentient being may be harmed (arrows, unlike in Oregon, are never shot at living beings). Secondly, education is still largely by rote, with the result that logical thought is, so the authors claim, rare. No doubt as a result of this, reading isn't, they report, a popular pastime.
This would be a book to read before taking a trip to the landlocked kingdom. Two travel guides recommended by the authors are Bhutan by Francoise Pommaret (Contemporary Books) and Stan Armington's Lonely Planet Bhutan. Pommaret is a local specialist who began living in Bhutan in 1981, while Armington is a mountaineering expert and also author of Lonely Planet's Trekking in the Nepal Himalaya.
Nevertheless, the Carpenters openly adore Bhutan. As countries go, it is obviously one of a kind. Because its principles offer a system that could, if widely adopted, help save the world from its current slide towards ecological and social disaster, the preservation of its way of life and all that this entails is surely of real and serious importance.
In the March 9 edition of the Taipei Times a piece by Ninon Godefroy ran with the headine “The quiet, gentle rhythm of Taiwan.” It started with the line “Taiwan is a small, humble place. There is no Eiffel Tower, no pyramids — no singular attraction that draws the world’s attention.” I laughed out loud at that. This was out of no disrespect for the author or the piece, which made some interesting analogies and good points about how both Din Tai Fung’s and Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing Co’s (TSMC, 台積電) meticulous attention to detail and quality are not quite up to
April 21 to April 27 Hsieh Er’s (謝娥) political fortunes were rising fast after she got out of jail and joined the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) in December 1945. Not only did she hold key positions in various committees, she was elected the only woman on the Taipei City Council and headed to Nanjing in 1946 as the sole Taiwanese female representative to the National Constituent Assembly. With the support of first lady Soong May-ling (宋美齡), she started the Taipei Women’s Association and Taiwan Provincial Women’s Association, where she
Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) Chairman Eric Chu (朱立倫) hatched a bold plan to charge forward and seize the initiative when he held a protest in front of the Taipei City Prosecutors’ Office. Though risky, because illegal, its success would help tackle at least six problems facing both himself and the KMT. What he did not see coming was Taipei Mayor Chiang Wan-an (將萬安) tripping him up out of the gate. In spite of Chu being the most consequential and successful KMT chairman since the early 2010s — arguably saving the party from financial ruin and restoring its electoral viability —
It is one of the more remarkable facts of Taiwan history that it was never occupied or claimed by any of the numerous kingdoms of southern China — Han or otherwise — that lay just across the water from it. None of their brilliant ministers ever discovered that Taiwan was a “core interest” of the state whose annexation was “inevitable.” As Paul Kua notes in an excellent monograph laying out how the Portuguese gave Taiwan the name “Formosa,” the first Europeans to express an interest in occupying Taiwan were the Spanish. Tonio Andrade in his seminal work, How Taiwan Became Chinese,
RSS