I am just back from 10 days in rural western Sikkim — a beautiful area called Richenpong — and I am still trying to get over how this tiny state manages to stand totally apart from the rest of India. There is nothing India-like about Sikkim and nothing Sikkimese about, well, large parts of India.
The first thing that struck me — and will strike any observant visitor — is the predominance of dustbins all over. Large garbage heaps that one has grown accustomed to as one travels in any direction out of Delhi are missing. Dustbins abound and are in active use. I asked a local whether these had recently been added — after Modi announced his Swachh Bharat mission — and he looked at me like I was decidedly odd. The ubiquitous garbage bins have been around for as long as he could remember — as old as the hills and trees, he said.
Dustbins are one thing, but god help you if you are on one of the state’s highways and roads and then nature calls. No taxi driver will stop and allow you to answer that call anywhere along the way. So the sides of highways are not dotted with men in various states of undress — unlike almost any other highway one encounters. Clean toilets are attached to dhabas, shops and other restaurants and that’s where the taxi driver will agree to stop — be it for who is riding in his cab or himself.
No open drains are visible in the villages, where I spent a number of days walking and chatting with villagers. Village houses and public areas are spotless. In fact almost all the tiny huts have a little garden or some kind of attractive patch with flowers and tiny pots if space is a constraint. Every house I stopped at had its own clean attached toilet. No smelly streets, pigs or huge heaps of garbage anywhere. There are some spots with some plastic bottles and rubbish lying around, but they are few and far between.
Cleanliness is one aspect; the second is safety and the respect accorded to women. I flew in alone and stayed five nights in western Sikkim at an organic farm where I knew no one and not for a second did I fear for my own safety.
Long walks around the village and time spent with locals explained why. Women have a special position in the Sikkimese way of life with more than three villagers telling me how they were “trying for a girl”. From the most affluent to the poorest, men agreed that families in their state tend to “scatter” unless they have the wisdom and guidance of women. In their experience, families “dissipate” when they only have boys as men tend to be more laid-back and prone to relaxing with a drink even during the day — it’s a state with a high level of alcohol consumption — unless pushed to perform. Thendup Bhutia — from one of the most influential and rich families in the area — says that in his experience (he has four sisters and one brother), it is women who form the backbone of their families and communities so their (women’s) safety is paramount to their survival and prosperity. It is his female staff at the farm that keeps things running — he says the efficiency and drive of his female staff is double that of the men. Even if they can’t physically perform the more male tasks, it is they who get them done. The three local schools I visited during my stay had an almost equal ratio of boys and girls with one school having a dominance of girls.
If cleanliness and safety are two aspects that struck me, so did the happiness quotient of everyone I met. I don’t know if it’s lack of ambition or sheer lethargy but people in rural west Sikkim seem remarkably content. Yes, there is corruption but the government manages to provide most of the basic amenities. Ration shops work and villagers seem to be able to access what they need. Of course as with any government, there’s scope for improvement but they are not complaining. As one of the locals who I met a couple of times on my trip summed it up: “When we see television here, we find people in the rest of the country are always opposing or protesting against the government. Then why did they elect them in the first place?” No easy answers to that one.
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