Wrestling with Change: The Story of Ura’s Festival:
By Dr. Karma Phuntsho
This
is a story of keeping the old and embracing the new. Ura’s Yakchoe festival is
an example of Bhutan’s
struggle to balance tradition and modernity.
The village of Ura
is nestled in a valley in central Bhutan at roughly 3200m altitude,
surrounded by forests of spruce, pine, larch, fir, juniper, bamboo and
rhododendrons where wildlife such as tigers, leopards, bears, boars and red
pandas roam. Its beautiful landscape, bestrewn with the farmhouses, watermills,
temples, stupas and prayer flags, provides a wonderful balance between pristine
nature and thriving traditional life. It is one of the largest clustered
villages in Bhutan
consisting of some sixty-three households and about three hundred residents.
Ura is named
after Padmasambhava, the guru from the land
of Ugyen (Oddiyana) who brought
Buddhism to Bhutan
in the 8th century. He is said to have first passed through the
village on his way to the court of Sindhuraja in Chagkhar. Since then, the
village came to be called Urbay, the hidden land of Ugyen.
People in neighbouring valleys still call Ura by this archaic name. It is
however the second coming of Padmasambhava that the village remembers and
celebrates through Yakchoe, the grand annual festival of Ura.
Padmasambhava and Yakchoe festival
An ancient
account has it that the Ura community prayed to Padmasambhava to cure them of
an epidemic leprosy. He answers their call by appearing as a mendicant at the
house of an old lady, who was busily spinning wool on her terrace. The lady
invites the mendicant to lunch, but he mysteriously disappears when she has
finished making buckwheat pancakes. Thoroughly perplexed, she sits down to spin
her wool only to discover to her astonishment a statue of the Buddhist deity
Vajrapani sitting in her wool container.
There are two
versions of the story about how the statue subsequently reached the house of
the Gadan Lam, a descendant of Phajo Drugom Zhigpo. Some say it flew there
after three nights in the old lady’s house, others give a more human story.
‘The statue was presented to the Gadan Lam through a village consensus,’ says
Lam Thinley.
When the statue
of Vajrapani reached Gadan, a nine-headed snake rose out of the place that is
now known as ‘the nine-headed snake’ (puguyungdhogo)
and slithered out of the valley. Leprosy, the disease spread by the serpents,
was eventually overcome by the blessing of Vajrapani, the subjugator of the subterranean
world. ‘The Yakchoe is a commemoration of this important event and an offering
in gratitude,’ comments Tshewang Dargey.
Fascinating as it
may be, this account of the festival’s origin does not explain the name
Yakchoe. It may well be the case that the festival has an animistic Bon origin
before it was turned into a Buddhist ceremony. Even today, an archaic ritual
using the Bonpo liturgical text for fumigation is performed on the third day of
the festival by one of the priest dressed as a Bonpo. The same liturgical text
is used during the Yaklha, Ura’s festival in summer when cattle gods are
invoked. Few village elders also recall the days when the Yakchoe festival was just
a simple occasion for offering food and drinks to local spirits. Thus, the
origin of Yakchoe is far from a straightforward one.
Today, the Yakchoe
has become an elaborate affair. It formally begins on the 12th of the
third Bhutanese month with a procession from Gadan to Ura. The Vajrapani relic
and the Gadan Lam are received by Ura’s priests in a long procession which trails
through open fields and meadows, over streams and brooks and past chortens and mani walls, all of which provide a magnificent backdrop to the
event. In the last few years, hosts of tourists joined the procession often
disrupting the file to get their best pictures.
Having arrived in
Ura, the gomchens perform their dance
tests and a religious ceremony dedicated to Vajrapani, which begins with the
ritual of exorcism. This religious ritual continues for several days in early
mornings and late evenings, while several dozens of masked, religious dances
alternated by folk dances occupy most of the daytime. The festival ends on the
fifth day with the distribution of blessings accumulated by the religious
ceremony and the tour of the relic through the village before it is brought
back to the old lady’s house, where it remains for three nights to mark its
initial arrival in the village.
The
currents of globalization
But, Ura’s local festival is no longer a
local affair: most of its audiences is now from abroad. As the symphony of
monastic music heralds the first mask dances from the temple roof top, crowds
of shy villagers in their best clothes and eager tourists with cameras hanging
down their necks fill the temple ground. Then, to the sound of cracking
cymbals, the dark, wrinkled character of Gadan
Gathpo emerges draped in a thick, long-sleeved Tibetan tunic, waving a
large wooden phallus. He performs a bawdy dance interposed by Zen-like
paradoxical chants.
When
I descended from the summit of the white peak, a hundred people burnt incenses,
but I saw not a single smoke.
When
I descended from the summit of the white peak, a hundred damsels were waiting
on me, but I had no company at night.
Each time he
swings in rhythm to the erratic clashes of the cymbals, the crowd bursts into
laughter. When he finishes his dance, he greets the audience, some of them in
English. The Gadan Gathpo, the old
man from Gadan, is a character combining the sacred and profane, wit and
wisdom, humour and responsibility. His role spans from Gadan, where the
procession on the first day begins, to the old lady’s house where the relic of
which he is the guardian is temporarily stationed on the final day. He plays
the host, the master of ceremony and the chief clown during the Yakchoe, responsible
both for the entertaining the crowd and for the smooth running of the festival.
Today, he, like rest of the village, has to shoulder an even greater
responsibility of keeping in with tradition and keeping up with modernity.
‘I am also from
the US,’
he tells an amused American woman. ‘George Bush is my brother but mine is
bigger than his,’ he adds, wielding his phallus. Just then Atsara, the second
clown jumps in saying: ‘No, no, he is Bin Ladin. This is his bomb.’ Their
foreign audience erupts into laughter. Globalization, it seems, has even caught
up with the pranks of Ura’s clowns.
Not long ago, a common saying in Ura went
‘Gyatsa is the end of sky (Gyatsa namai
thama)’. Now, that Gyatsa is only two hours from Ura by car and most
villagers have ventured out of their isolated valley to other parts of Bhutan
and beyond. They talk about New York and Tokyo and a few members of
Ura travel and work abroad. With the influx of tourists, the villagers also
meet people from all over the world at their doorsteps. Consequently their
world view has changed as have their dreams, values and ideals.
Ura had motor road since 1973 and
electricity - from a local hydro-electric station installed by the Japanese - since
1986. The village has today a few shops, a handful of cars, trucks and
tractors. Few households watch television captured through broad satellite
dishes planted in their vegetable gardens. Telephone has finally reached Ura
this year connecting it to the outside world. Despite being one of the highest
and remote villages in Bhutan,
Ura is changing and globalizing fast. Yet, Ura looks still more or less the
same village as the one described in a 14th century Tibetan travelogue and in
photos taken in the early twentieth century. The aura of the quaint “hidden
land” still permeates the air.
The
curse of consumerism and materialism
Globalization per se is less of a threat to
Ura’s local culture and the smooth and sustainable management of the festival than
the two other curses of our contemporary world: consumerism and materialism. In
the past, Ura had a sizeable population which could easily organize the
festivities for a small local audience. Beside, Uraps had a reputation for
their dexterity and sense of communal solidarity. Neighbouring areas often
looked up to Uraps as the cream of people (miyi
nangneng uraiba).
Although Ura is primarily a farming
community, the village has produced leading religious figures, statesmen,
traders, artists and scholars throughout Bhutanese history. Ura’s success, many
people believe, came from the blessings of a “hidden land” while some even
ventured to credit it to the drinking water in Ura. It is more likely that the
social structure and a sense of community, for which Ura is acclaimed, are the
main factors contributing to Ura’s achievements as a society.
Today, however, Ura is running short of dexterous members. Most of
its inhabitants are either aged parents or very young children, who attend the
local school. Almost two thirds of Ura’s adult population now live in other
parts of Bhutan
or abroad, either studying or working. The introduction into Bhutan of white collar employment
and a cash economy, and the subsequent consumerist lifestyle and outward
migration has drained Ura of many of its capable citizens and of much needed
human resources for the festival.
It is now left mainly to the elderly villagers to take up the various
responsibilities of the festival. Men do the catering from a large kitchen,
tend to guests and support the priest in running the shows, while women perform
folk dances, or brew and serve the festival’s famous singchang drink. They observe every minute detail of the festival
customs and routine with much dedication and humour creating a convivial
atmosphere. Sadly, there are not many young people taking part in the old
customs and fewer still committed to actually learning the old traditions. ‘When
my generation ends, there will be very few who will know the procedures of the
festival,’ laments Tshewang Dorji.
Bhutan’s changing economy also has a serious impact on the festival. Materialism
has insidiously crept in, increasing people’s desires and shaking Ura’s long
standing social cohesion. Personal economic opportunities are now being put
before community projects and events. Some villagers even miss the festival in
order to tend to their businesses, whilst others try to exploit the occasion to
make money, setting up stalls for food, drink and gambling. All this exacerbates
the shortage of manpower needed for the running of the festival.
With growing materialistic leanings, the interest in the festival is
declining. This is apparent at choja,
the public tea session in the afternoon. Butter tea is served with rice accompanied
by tea-songs and a unique tea-sermon. Now, many people do not take part in this
custom, being too distracted by activities at the vending stalls. ‘If we sit and
form the rows, there aren’t enough people to serve tea. If we serve tea, there
aren’t enough to form the rows,’ jokes Jamyang Nidup. Another event suffering
from poor attendance is the changor
churma in the evening when the village men gather to taste the day’s singchang and deliberate over the issues
of the festival. There are far fewer men attending these sessions than in the
past.
Modernization has also brought Ura a socially free and egalitarian
attitude and, with it, a sense of self-importance and individualism. ‘We now
lack the social sense of mutual understanding to respect the older and guide
the younger. No one listens to any one any more,’ comments Tashi Dorji.
Communal solidarity and the tradition of mutual social support, for which Ura
was famous in the past, is ebbing away.
Yakchoe is one of over a dozen festivities and ceremonies in Ura’s
calendar year, which are all fully funded through contributions from the
village. Unfortunately, the village’s economy shows signs of decline, despite
the numerous development efforts. Dairy farming, once a major enterprise in Ura,
is now slackened as is the work in the fields. ‘There is no point cultivating
any crop if the wild boars harvest it,’ complains Dorji. The farmers blame the Bhutan’s excessive
environmental and land policies for the decline in both dairy and agricultural
farming. Ura’s days of a subsistence economy and self-sufficiency are long
gone. It now depends, as never before, on external remittance and imports from India and other
districts.
Thus, with no funding and the soaring prices of basic materials, the
festival is turning into an economic burden. Small donations from visitors temporarily
ease the financial difficulties but the problem is far from being solved. Despite
being a major attraction of the season, tourism has not really benefited the
village. ‘It is the tour operators who make the profit from our free shows and
hospitality’, says Tashi Dorji. At the festival management meeting this year, the
villagers have resolved that starting from 2007 tour operators will be charged
a fee for each foreign guest they bring. ‘We do not want to commercialize the
festival but we need funds,’ they argue. ‘The money will be used to build a
festival fund’. A significant festival endowment, the villagers think, is the
most viable way to sustain the tradition.
What does the future hold?
The impact of global and national trends on Ura and its Yakchoe
festival is palpable. Yet, Ura’s festival is not a lost cause and is at the
moment thriving against all odds. The residents of Ura conduct the festival
with a zest for celebration. The healthy population of enthusiastic gomchens perform the rituals and dances
with the flair of a professional troop. The spirit of Yakchoe continues undiminished.
But, for how long will this go on? The onslaught of socio-economic
changes including consumerism and tourism will no doubt put Ura’s social
integrity to the test. Ura’s battle to be and become, to keep the old and adopt
the new, to strike a fine balance between the ancient and modern, the local and
global, the personal and communal is far from over.
One thing however is certain. In the years to come, Ura will desperately
need vision, patience, solidarity, and the dexterity and dedication of today’s
senior villagers. Only then can the village be sure that the Gadan Gathpo’s prayers at the end of the
festival - that the festival ‘next year be grander than this year, the year
after the next be grander than next year’ (daning
wa namung jaiwa, namung wa di mung jai wa) – will really come true.
As the
Ura yakchoe is near (4-6 may 2012) , I am posting this article written by
a great Scholar Karma Phuntsho, D. Phil.
Dr.
Karma is from Ura, Bumthang and is currently working at University of Cambridge
and he is also the Founding Director of The Loden Foundation
