Life seems rather uncertain in 2020. There are lockdowns, travel restrictions, business closures and failing plans all around us. And it is quite likely that for the most part, 2021 will just be 2020 on auto-replay. As the figurative rug is rolled away from underneath our manicured feet, it reveals just how stony the ground underneath is. It raises the inevitable question: How do I life in this unfamiliar decade?
Luckily, it seems I don’t have to go far to find the magic answer. I literally just have to turn to my roots in the dales to figure out a way to carry forth – to the lure of its land and the lives of its locals.
For a start, the raw natural beauty of the place and its vast dales is a given. I should probably have tired of saying this. But, I sometimes really think that even a wintry Phobjikha, in its forsaken, dusty glory, could make Emerson want to rise from his deathbed and live it all again. And while no big romanticist myself, I do derive joy from being able to inhabit this place!
But apart from the valley’s enticing natural charm, I sense among fellow folks in the dales a particular, nonchalant approach to things that seems to embody their take on life. And as something of a wanderer myself, I find myself attracted to their lifing styles as valuable tips for myself as I go forth in life.
As with most farmers, there is definitely a subtle but profound inclination towards a no-nonsense stance among the village folks. This is most apparent during meetings with them. They may all seem to be paying attention, and agreeing and all, but towards the end, some will raise hands and ask questions that throw me off-track and make me think harder about what I just said or promised. Key take-away: I need to be precise and concise with my presentation. Otherwise, no bullshit will cut through to them – even on seemingly important topics.
And if, halfway through, they sense that the banter bears so real significance to their lives whatsoever, they will simply zone out and stop paying attention. No pretension. No act of trying to put in the effort to comprehend. “I came because the Tshogpa (village rep.) said to, but hey, this meeting is neither fun nor useful.” No hard feelings; after the meeting, we will still talk and laugh over stupid inside jokes.
But the trait I appreciate the most among the locals is their stellar work-ethics when it comes to their farmworks. If I get up at 6AM on a balmy summer morning and think myself the early bird out to get the early worm, most locals would already be in their fiends working. The women would most likely have finished milking the cows by then, and the entire family might be getting ready for dromza – morning tea – around their warm bukhari.
And contrary to this notion of farmers being dire slacker, the village folks are laser-focused on results. I have now come to appreciate the casual speed and light-hearted efficiency with which these locals do their works – be it chopping firewood, digging potato, or building houses. They carry forth these works with a nonchalant zeal I have not been able to match, year in, year out. I deeply appreciate this because for me, it all seems a bit tedious once the novelty wears off. The result of this approach to work has been spectacular – years of strong growth in the valley, and a labor pool in strong demand in the neighboring valleys. Way to go, I say!
Sure there is an element of keeping up with the Joneses to that. But nothing insidious, you know. For instance, all neighbors want to be done with potato cultivation works around the same time but preferably no later than anyone. However, it is not a cut-throat competition. Labor is exchanged between households, drinks flow freely, and in the proverbial words, doma (betel nut) is split like firewood between the neighbors. In summary, they want to finish their works first and not have to worry later, but they will help each-other out. This is especially true if misfortunes like sickness or death affect a family. Then literally the whole village takes care of the necessary rites for the bereaved family. Do not laze around. Help others, OK? Great!
And in contrast to this prejudiced picture of the village farmer being boorish and all-work-no-play, the dales-folks do know how to enjoy. Every once in a while, I mean quite a lot, a bunch of the menfolk get out into the archery ground for a few round of friendlies. Amidst friendly banters and inside jokes, they like to compare their most recent compound bow purchases, but hey, no pressure. After all, the bows are meant to be shared. But please do bring your own arrows. Meanwhile, the womenfolk visit the temples on holy-days. And they all like to splurge during tshechus and other festivals in the valley. So all-in-all, it’s a pretty balanced “work hard, play hard” approach – vintage Phobjikha edition!
And amidst this all is an abiding sense of this is enough after the day is run. I like to think of my former landlord to illustrate it. Back in the days, we used to know this guy as the classic work hard, no chill type-of-guy. But today at 50, he seems to have hit the brakes. After decades of hard-work, he has amassed some level of wealth, built a new house and purchased a vehicle. Now is time to take it slow and enjoy life while doing enough to thrive among the other folks. I mean, he still get up early and works well and all – but with more chill and laughter now. Life is impermanent. Live it well.
This is far, far from the exposition I wanted to write about when I decided to write a post title, “A Daleman’s Take on Life.” In any case, making it any longer is probably pointless. Anyways, the bottom-line is this: “Keep Calm, and Do What You Gotta do.”
I think the essence of the dalefolks’ take on life boils down to this – a useful guide in these uncertain times.
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