He’s Leaving Home A scene that must be replicated across the rural landscape of Bhutan

10 February, 2010 - Dorji ascends the dusty path on the steep hillside, a heavy bag on his back. His two brothers and mother, with another bag, follow closely.

It’s a 15-minute climb to the feeder road where his cousin Ugyen is already waiting with other relatives, who have gathered to bid them bon voyage.

After a lengthy exchange of good wishes, cautions and reminders from relatives, the two youth walk the feeder road, which connects to the Pemagatshel-Samdrupjongkhar highway, anxious and unsure of what lies ahead.

Relatives follow, still muttering what they have already said a number of times. “Be careful while travelling, don’t forget to check your luggage before getting off, pray when you travel through India, don’t wait for others to serve you, eat meals on time …”

The two youth carry a mobile phone but the battery is dead. “Buy a new battery as soon as you reach Samdrupjongkhar,” they yell from behind.

Dorji Phuntsho and Ugyen, both in their early twenties, are leaving for good their village in Nangong gewog, Pemagatshel, in search of jobs and a future.

Earlier that morning Dorji’s mother, 46-year old Dema, prepared fried eggs and white rice, a special treat, from the otherwise regular kharang and potato curry. Neighbours came by to bid farewell carrying a few eggs and some money, Nu 50 each.

The two youth were amongst the first three from Changchung village to have qualified for the science stream in a higher secondary school. They went to the Wamrong HSS.

That was two years ago. Now they are headed for the capital. The night before, the family had a lengthy discussion about their future under the dim light of their single-room kitchen.

Dorji Phuntsho and his cousin Ugyen faced a series of questions about what they would do once in Thimphu. The 2009 class XII results were declared two weeks ago.

Both did well in other subjects but did not secure enough marks in English to make it to government educational institutions.

“I don’t know what kind of job I qualify for,” said Dorji. Both are the eldest sons of families that survive on the potato and maize harvests. Their village sits on a steep slope that has limited space for agriculture. Most farmers in the village share plots of arable land to grow potato and maize.

It is their first ever trip to the capital. Where will you stay? How will you look for a job? How long will it take? How much money will you need? The two did not have answers to most of these questions.

“Do you really think you can find a job there?” asked Dorji’s mother, her face marked with worry. “We’ll try and see,” was all Ugyen could mutter.

Their grandfather, a lay monk, performed a religious ceremony for Dorji’s safe and fruitful journey and erected prayers flags (lung dhar) to bring them luck.

“Go to that sister’s place,” said Dorji’s mother. “No don’t go there. I heard there are already many people living with them. Better go to ajang’s (uncle) place,” suggested his uncle Cheda. “But how long can you stay there?” There is only silence and blank stares at the two young men.

The discussion slowly shifted to gifts they would take for their hosts in Thimphu and Phuentsholing. Dorji’s mother packed some kharang, tengma (flattened maize), cheese, dried vegetables, eggs and a dozen bottles of ara (local brew).

“I’m sending him to satisfy him. Even if he doesn’t get a job, he’ll feel that at least he tried,” she said. “We can’t afford to send him to a private college. We still have boys going to school.”

Dorji’s mother and stepfather earned more than Nu 10,000 selling potato last year, but it has been on the decline for several years. She has given the little she saved to Dorji for their journey to Thimphu.

At the highway, a two-hour walk from their village, the two men wait in the chilly breeze for hours as vehicles zoom by oblivious to their waving.

“We’ll apply online for selections to institutions like RIHS, NRTI, and then see what options are left,” said Ugyen, who had done better than Dorji in English. He had scored 48 percent. Ugyen has decided that he would start working to help his parents.

Dorji’s mother is almost sure that the journey, which has cost the family’s entire annual savings, would not ensure they find jobs. “We’ve heard even college graduates can’t find jobs,” said Dorji’s mother. “How will they?”