Exploring Mayel Lyang

NIT Conference Report

2008-10-15T11:44:00.002+05:45

Published in Sikkim NOW, October 14, 2008

Uniform anger

2008-09-22T18:06:00.002+05:45

Uniform anger

Sir — It is outrageous for the Lepchas of the Darjeeling hills to be asked to wear ‘traditional’ attire during the festive season starting from October 7 (“Gurung bid to clear dress code air”, Sept 11). The president of the Gorkha Janmukti Morcha, Bimal Gurung, has said that “members of the Sherpa, Lepcha, Yolmo and Tamang communities should... sport the daura sural”. The daura sural is the traditional dress of the Gorkhas and not of the other communities mentioned by Gurung. As such, they cannot be made to wear a costume that is not a part of their culture.
Whatever the GJM leaders might say, the Lepchas are the original inhabitants of the Darjeeling hills. It is they who have accommodated and assimilated the Gorkhas into their culture rather than things being the other way round. It is sad for the Lepchas to know that their ‘guests’ have now become so powerful as to force the ‘hosts’ to wear the Gorkha dress. Making all the hill tribes wear similar costumes is an ethnocentric move by Gurung, who clearly wants to dominate the indigenous people. This is nothing but cultural annexation — an unwarranted attempt at control that should not be tolerated.
Yours faithfully, Charisma K. Lepcha, Shillong

Sir — There can be no argument on the fact that the original natives of the Darjeeling hills and Sikkim are the Lepchas. This can be proved, among other things, by the names of the places, rivers or valleys in the region. Unfortunately, the Lepchas have lived as underdogs in their own land for a long time. Things have come to such a pass now that they are being ordered by Bimal Gurung to dress like the Gorkhas while Bengalis or Marwaris are allowed to wear their own attires. Gurung owes the Lepchas an apology for issuing this outrageous diktat.
Yours faithfully, Romong Lepcha, San Francisco, US

Sir — GJM members have threatened those who do not want to accept Bimal Gurung’s dress code with unpleasant consequences. This has created an atmosphere of fear in the hills. Many are resentful but are scared to speak up. Perhaps not surprisingly, Gorkhas are almost as annoyed with the command as those from the other hill communities. This is because the majority of the hill people lead a hand-to-mouth existence. They can ill afford a set of traditional dresses. Gurung’s command is especially burdensome because of the time of the year when it has been imposed. The period of Durga Puja, Dussehra, Diwali — popularly known as dasai and tauhar in the hills and Dooars — is a time of extra expenses on gifts and new clothes for family and friends.
Gurung’s tyranny ironically reminds one of Subash Ghisingh, the leader of the Gorkha National Liberation Front whom Gurung ousted. Ghisingh had also suppressed the voice of the people by formulating autocratic rules. This finally brought about his downfall. If Gurung does not want to go the Ghisingh way, he and his party should be careful not to hurt the sentiments of the people.
Yours faithfully, Bisham Lamichanay, Darjeeling

Published in The Telegraph, September 21, 2008 http://www.telegraphindia.com/archives/archive.html

Letter To The Editor

2008-09-17T21:24:00.001+05:45

How can Bimal Gurung insist on dress code for others?

Sir, ~ This is with response to the report, “Gorkhaland to have dress code?” (North Bengal and Sikkim Plus, 11 September).
How can Bimal Gurung insist that Lepchas, Sherpas and Tamangs wear the daura suruwal when they have their own traditional attires? This is “cultural domination”, especially for the Lepchas who are the original inhabitants of the region.
For many years, Lepchas have supported the Gorkhas, accommodated them to their convenience. But it is sad that they have now decided to take advantage of the Lepchas, who have not said anything against the Gorkhaland movement, and are forcing them to wear daura suruwal as well.
Has Mr Gurung forgotten that the enforcement of Gho and Kira in neighbouring Bhutan made the Nepalese question their identity? Has he forgotten that the Bhutanese dress code enforcement was vehemently opposed and challenged by the Nepalese both in and outside Bhutan? This is an ethnocentric move by Mr Gurung and his team to clearly dominate over the minorities. It appears the movement sees a threat from the Lepchas because they are the true owners of the hills; once the movement can dilute the Lepcha culture with Gorkha culture, it will be easy for them to say that the hills belong to the Gorkhas.
This is “cultural annexation” which should be opposed.
~ Yours, etc.,

Published in The Statesman September 16, 2008.
http://www.thestatesman.net/page.arcview.php?date=2008-09-16&usrsess=1&clid=3&id=249525

Fashion Police in Darjeeling Hills

2008-09-15T08:33:00.008+05:45

Was it mere coincidence that New York Fashion Week and Darjeeling fashion police decided to work at the same time? From different designers to varied colors, choices seemed endless in Big Apple. Unfortunately, Darjeeling hills had but one choice – ‘daura suruwal.’

In the trend spotting business of hill fashion, Bimal Gurung “insisted” that the Lepchas, Sherpas and Tamangs wear daura suruwal because being the inhabitants of this place, they are Gorkhas. [The Statesman, Sept 11, 2008]

Excuse me! But I want to stop right here and make it clear. “Lepchas are not Gorkhas. Lepchas ought not to be forced to wear daura suruwal.”

It is not sure whether BG and his posse are running out of ideas [as my professor says], or if he is just targeting the Lepchas because he can. Truth be told, Lepchas are the autochthons of the Darjeeling hills and they are the only people who have the right to say that the Gorkhas are “foreigners”, because everyone else came after the Lepchas to these parts. Yet, Lepchas have never said that. Instead, Lepchas have supported, accommodated and assimilated with all communities. They have even gone to fight for a Gorkhaland in their Lepcha land. When in reality, ‘Gorkhaland’ is something foreign to the hills and valleys that owe their names to words of Lepcha origin. From the tiny springs to the sky hugging mountains, there is no doubt about who the rightful owners of Darjeeling hills are. In that, Lepchas have never felt the right to defend what belonged to them.

But the time has come when Lepchas need to stay alert. The most recent imposition of a “daura suruwal” dress code is downright atrocious. It is culturally wrong and genocidal for a people group trying to hold on to what remains of their “vanishing” status. “It is a rape of a culture which has just stayed silent,” my brother says and there are many who would agree. Yet, the only thing that could be mustered from those imposing was a “relaxation” on the dress code for the Lepchas.

I sneer.

An apology would’ve been nice but now my generation has to wear otherwise? I don’t think so. Instead, it has only affirmed my convictions about the ethnocentric move by the Gorkhaland movement to further dilute Lepcha culture as Gorkha culture so it becomes easy for them to say that the hills belong to them.

But again, I am hopeful. I envisage a day when Lepchas from all across the hills throng the town streets attired in their colorful dumfra and gada – letting the world know the sense of fashion from Darjeeling hills.

Published in Sikkim NOW! September 15, 2008

Tendong Lho Rum Faat

2008-09-01T08:42:00.000+05:45

Dzongu in Dilemma

2008-08-25T20:39:00.005+05:45

A cow had lost its balance and fallen off the cable car. It had landed straight into the Teesta river…

This incident was relayed a minute before we boarded the same ropeway ride. Unlike images in postcards and movies, it wasn’t the bright red box hanging in the air. It was an ordinary wooden bench attached with some thick wires as the pulley forces worked physics to provide the movement. It didn’t look like the safest way to ascend the sky but I sat beside my cousins excited for our first cable car experience. Soon, the operator pulled an iron rod as if to provide a bolt for safety and the manually-run ropeway took off. Nervous faces stared at each other as we hung many feet above ground and hoped that our fate was not like that of the cow.

We held hands, clung to each other and for the most part left our eyes closed. It was the occasional peek at the sky and below that told us of the distance we had travelled. We had crossed the Relli Khola and the second stretch of the ride swung us above the Teesta river. We dared not look below and when it stopped in the middle of the river for some brief seconds, we were too scared to even breathe. Our hearts had stopped and we could only hear the raging river roar below us...

Regrettably, the 27^th mile ropeway off NH31A does not sway above the blue waters of Teesta anymore. The sacred scare has ceased to exist. The enraged splashes seem downcast. An external force is at work – a construction is taking place as the National Hydroelectric Power Corporation (NHPC) has built its fortress there. From the highway, we notice cleared forest, levelled land, gravel and dust, construction trucks and murky brown water below.

The fuming force of an unstoppable river seems subdued. Its characteristic white rage is absent. It has been restrained. It feels submissive. It is unlike Teesta!

In hopes of passing the Teesta legend, my father would often relate the romantic story of Teesta and Rangit, two popular rivers of Sikkim. They were two lovers who were to meet at Pesok and travel towards the plains. But the girl –Teesta had arrived before the boy -Rangit and this was a blow to his male ego. Rangit was ashamed of his delayed arrival and instead of travelling forward; he decided to return to his place of origin. The opposite flow must have caused turbulence as the waters rose and flooded the great land…

And as our vehicles would near the bridge, he would also tell of my grandmother’s peculiar habit to remove from her purse a bundle of her fallen hair. She would then spit at it and throw it in the Teesta alongside a coin for reasons of her own. Like her, many grandmothers practiced the same routine as the sight of Teesta bridge also comforted weary travellers who breathed sighs of relief –we are home!

This particular trip however, I don’t remember crossing the Teesta bridge. I had dozed off and it was only when the passenger beside me wanted to get off did I wake up. We had reached our destination and it only felt right that a very wet Gangtok welcomed us.

For the last many weeks, news reports of two Lepcha “hunger strikers” had only itched our beings. From what we read, Dzongu, the Lepcha reserve was under attack. Hydel projects were creeping into our sacred place as our people feared of losing the ancestral land. Dawa Lepcha and Tenzing Lepcha were two Dzongu natives spearheading the first ever Lepcha resistance movement. Lepchas or Rongs are believed to be the original inhabitants of Sikkim and Darjeeling hills who have since become a micro-minority in their own land. Their simple thinking and timid demeanour is blamed for the “vanishing” status they have received as a tribe. Dzongu is believed to be the “signature” of Lepchas all cross the world and blog updates regarding their struggle did not convince the curious mind. We had to see for ourselves. We had to visit Dzongu.

Known to be the protected area for the indigenous of the land, Dzongu is the “Lepcha land.” It is the Lepcha “reserve” similar to the “Red Indian reserve” in the United States. It is where “pure” Lepchas reside. It is where Lepchas are still at the “primitive – tribal” stage. It is the only place where outsiders (including non-Dzongu Lepchas) need a permit to enter the terrain. Although there are no written records about the first settlement there, Lepcha legends also boast of Dzongu to be the place of Lepcha origin. It is their holy land. “It is like the mecca for the Lepchas,” my friend had remarked. And for some strange reason, it felt like we were on a pilgrimage.

We were visiting “homeland.”

Upon arrival in Gangtok, we did not know where to go. But a visit to the Bhutia-Lepcha House in Tibet Road proved to be the right start. “Indefinite Hungerstrike” read a bold banner as relay hunger strikers laid on the sidewalk accompanied by posters, khadas and Buddhist prayer flags. Inside, the place was teeming with volunteers, activists and supporters of the same – Affected Citizens of Teesta (ACT) worked on answering queries, explaining their position, writing press releases and negotiating with the government. On the second floor, Buddhist monks could be heard clanging cymbals and chanting prayers. The place was busy but the real struggle felt evident only after we met Dawa and Tenzing at the Sir Thothub Namgyal Memorial (STNM) hospital. It was their 42^nd day of hunger strike and their frail health was a clear indicator of two lives at risk. Doctors feared worse. “Nobody is as big as somebody’s life,” said Dr. Namgyal as he highly advocated calling off the strike and championed to feed the duo through Ryle’s Tube. Possible organ failures and deteriorating health conditions was indeed a major concern. They looked weak for a conversation so we sat by their bedsides silenced by their burden for Dzongu. A flier above Dawa’s bed caught my eye, “We are not against development, we are not against progress. We just want our sacred, holy, ancestral land, Dzongu, where the souls of our ancestors rest to be left alone.”

We were en route Dzongu the next day.

Having collected our permit papers in Mangan, the following day; we met with our ride to the oldest Lepcha village in Upper Dzongu. We were driving towards the land that only existed in legends, ethnographies and history books. From tiny springs by the roadside to rock-hugging waterfalls, butterflies fluttered around as the occasional orchid sightings excited us. We were left in awe but our myths had been shattered. Dzongu was not the forgotten land of “backward” Lepchas. We did not find Lepchas in “primitive” stage –they lived in well built houses and Mangan was just a jeep-ride away. They were as “civilized” as Lepchas in other parts of Sikkim. We didn’t find anything out of the ordinary. “Gangtok Lepchas make a poster of Dzongu Lepchas to be the backward people,” said our host as we shared this thought.

True enough, the Lepchas here seemed self-sufficient. We were told that nobody in that village went to bed hungry. They had schools and roads connecting them to the capital. Perhaps I am biased because I visited just one village in Upper Dzongu but the story of Dzongu Lepchas felt something out of fiction. It was not true.

Dzongu Lepchas were smart, intelligent citizens aware of their surroundings and concerned about their future. The mood of the village hovered around the upcoming hydel project in their precious land.

Investigated by NHPC as part of the 50,000 Megawatt Hydroelectric Initiative launched by the Government of India to harness hydropower resources, Panang Hydro-Electric project is set to operate from Dzongu, North Sikkim. The damsite is planned on the Tolong Chu, a tributary to the Teesta river and is intended to function as a run-of-river scheme capable of 280MW. With hopes of delivering Rs. 2 crore per annum for the state, the project was set to begin from September 2007. The construction time is scheduled for 4 -5 years where labourers “unlike culture” (non Lepcha, Bhutia, Nepalis) are to be brought in and the project is set to acquire a total of 54 hectares land in the area.

And this is where the apprehension lies.

Yesterday, Dzongu was the protective reserve for the Lepchas. It was the area safeguarded to preserve the culture of the indigenous inhabitants of Sikkim. Today, they are obliged to sell their hallowed land. “This project is inevitable,” said a senior government officer as he challenged, “What has Dzongu done to deserve this project?” People in Sikkim do not pay taxes but they have schools and roads built for them. In a way, welcoming this project would be a gesture of appreciation to the government who has done so much for the Dzongu natives.”

Permissibly, landowners have agreed to sell their “barren” land for monetary compensation. They are being paid Rs. 18 per square feet. “Dzongu needs to be developed. We need to be economically strong,” said a landowner who was initially against the project but has since changed his mind. Upon asking whether money was the pressing motivator for his change of heart, he said that he had tried to closely understand the benefits of the project and had decided to support the same. “Times have changed and we Lepchas need to be united for development,” he added as somebody whispered, “It will be a big mistake. There will be no need for model homes – our real homes are being destroyed.” Another person however mustered, “If you can’t win them, you join them.” But “they are receiving a lot of money,” remarked a voice who is convinced that innocent Lepchas are being lured to selling their ancestral land. With concerns about money management and the Lepchas, there are more sceptics than supporters on this issue. “They say that money will come, but our people have never been good with money. We don’t know what will happen,” said another concerned voice. History has shown that despite flourishing cardamom business in Dzongu, Lepchas have always been swindled by the middlemen. They have often been cheated, duped and been subjected to victims of alcohol abuse, and experienced Lepchas fear that the money received from selling their lands would not at all last in the long run. But the landowners sounded hopeful. “We have learnt from the past. We are more educated and aware today. We are not the victims anymore.”

However, locals shared other fears too. “We cannot speak openly against the project because we are government employees but this would also mean an influx of outsiders in our land,” said a school teacher unsure about the labourers who would perhaps be treble the population of Dzongu Lepchas. “Who knows? We might end up as the coolies,” she added. The fear of Lepchas marrying the outsiders resonated with what Mr. Lyangsong Tamsang said, “There will be a new clan –the NHPC clan in Dzongu.”

Likewise the arrival of outsiders also means an increment in the crime rate. The lifestyle of peace loving Lepchas is apt to be disrupted as Sonam Dupden Lepcha remarked, “As a Lepcha, I feel that we should put our heart and soul against the project.” The circle of dissent is silently loud, “Of course we don’t like the project idea. It would mean that the place will get dirty and this is a holy place,” shared another voice as she cautiously spoke her mind. “We get victimized if we speak against the project,” piped another voice as the “emotional blackmailing” felt evident and I recalled a previous interview where the Chief Minister said that “the agitation was anti-Sikkimise.”

In a way, the issue felt like America’s “war on terrorism.” You are either with “us” or with “them.” Similarly, you are either pro-Sikkimise or anti-Sikkimise. It then becomes what Arundhati Roy calls the “anti” syndrome as “a failure of imagination –an inability to see the world in terms other than those that the establishment has set out for you.” And Dzongu Lepchas are struggling to find the balance between dams and development. They have been polarized in becoming an anti-dam or a pro-dam supporter. Dzongu Lepchas have undeniably been divided. Two brothers under the same roof have split. While the older one welcomes the project, the younger one is totally against it.

Interestingly, there are some who remain unmoved. They seem neither afraid nor unafraid about the future. “We are fine the way we are. It is okay if the project comes and it is okay even if the project doesn’t come.”

As we left Dzongu the next day, bright morning sun and the sky hugging mountains were just a backdrop as my eyes glanced to a wall of some scribbled writings, “Land is our life…”

Published in The NEHU Journal (Shillong) 2008.

"The Lapcha of Nepal"

2006-03-06T20:42:00.000+05:45

The Lapcha of Nepal
First book about the Lapcha people of Nepal

-Jeffrey Schwerzel
-Shanti Tuinstra
-Juddha Prasad Vaidya

Publisher: Udaya Books (2000)

ISBN: 99933-30-00-0

In an attempt to prove that Lepchas were the original inhabitants of Ilam, Nepal, three scholars have come together, researched and published the first book about "The Lapcha of Nepal."

It is a combined effort of Professor Juddha Prasad Vaidya, Ilam College, Nepal and Jeffrey Schwerzel and Shanti Tuinstra, anthropology researchers, University of Amsterdam, The Netherlands.

Unlike other authors and writers, the trio uses the term "Lapcha" referring to the Lepchas. Though the Lepchas prefer to be called Rongs, according to the authors of this book, "they simply prefer to be called Lapcha and we have respected their wish."

Often times, Lapcha is derogatory term of addressing this people group. It is believed that the Nepali settlers couldn't clearly understand what these hill people were saying so, they called them "lap" meaning unclear speakers and the name thus took its form –Lapcha/ Lapche.

However, the authors have sensitively worked to put politically correct ways to address this people group. Unlike early research scholars, they have wanted the voice of the villagers be heard as it is written, "we try to let the Lapcha speak for themselves. Everything written here, has been told to us by Lapcha inhabitants of Ilam."

They have touched on an important factor as the second chapter is under the topic of "exoticizing the Lapcha." True enough, outside authors/ writers have always found pleasure in overstating a bit of information as Gorer, the British anthropologist wrote about the Lepchas.

"The Lepchas themselves are extremely dirty on the whole and particularly the laymen; lamas shave and wash their heads and also their hands before making ceremonial objects and woman have a good wash at least once a month; grown men on the other hand wash exceedingly seldom. But even though they are so dirty they are in comparison with the Tibetans relatively clean; it is true that they have a much more clement climate and an abundance of water, so that there is no external reason for being as dirty as they are."

This is indeed an outrageous description of the Lepcha community and not well received by the members of the community either. There is a lack of sensitivity and credible description as the outside world hears of this people group. Commendably, the trio explains "this booklet is an attempt to publish information without concomitant stereotypes and exaggerations."

With very little written about the history of Ilam, the original inhabitants of the region are shrouded in mystery as well. Vaidya, Schwerzel and Tuinstra have given a brief history of Ilam before 1774, after 1774 and after 1816. They have accounted the 1826 Kotopa Insurrection when the Lepchas rose against the Bhutias and when Yuklathap, Ekunda Kaji's son flees to Nepal. (Ekunda Kaji was a Nepal loyalist).

In a letter dated 1827, Bhimsen Thapa is said to have granted permission to Yuklathap to remain in Nepal. Interestingly, the authors claim that there were already Lepchas living in Ilam before Yuklathap arrived there. They have also accounted the time when the East India Company manages to convince Sikkim to cede Darjeeling to the East India Company and "… the Lepchas, who had taken refuge in Nepal, returned to live there under British protection."

But the existence of Lepchas according K.P. Tamsang, Lepcha scholar, accounts of a different story.

"In 1825, when dispute arose between King Chugput Namgyal, the 17th King of Sikkim and the Lepcha minister Athing Rathap, Athing Rathap had to flee to Ilam along with his families, relatives and his followers and had settled down for good as such, the descendants of Athing rathap had his followers now residing in Ilam since 1825 are called Ilamoo, meaning the Lepchas of, or belonging to Ilam or the Lepcha inhabitants of Ilam."

So, the history of Ilam and the existence of Lepchas in that region is an interesting topic to be researched for credible historical record. But the authors have researched and noted more than seventy names of places in and around Ilam of Lepcha origin claiming that Lepchas were indeed the original inhabitants of Ilam.

From the rivers to the trees, nature-loving Lepchas looked at the significance of a certain tree or plant in that region and named it accordingly. "Samalbung, for example, is derived from the Lepcha word for Tooni tree, "samal bung." The trucks of the tree are used in housebuilding,so any place where the samal bung is found, is a good place to live. In Samalbung, one can find these trees."

It is also interesting to note that the authors have found the name of Mechi Khola, the river separating India and Nepal to have translated from the Lepcha language.

"Mechi is said to come from Min Chu Ung Kyong, meaning either "big river," or "hot spring." The name hot spring might sound unlikely, but in Antu, where Mechi starts, it is said that a long time ago people would indeed come to enjoy the hotspring, not only for pleasure but also for curing. The river forms border between Nepal and India and has played an important role in the history of Ilam."

Digressing from the list of names of places, the religion of Ilamoo's are inked as shamanism. Disagreeing to ever-popular belief that Lepchas were animists, the trio claims that "animism," is a wrong term because Lepchas do not worship rocks, mountains, rivers, streams etc. Lepchas believe that these are where the spirits live and respect their natural surroundings. The religious specialists or those speaking with the sprits are the yabas, muns, bon things.

The last mun of Ilam was Man Bahadur Lepcha (Malam moo). He is believed to have communicated only in Lepcha and owned two namthars (holy books) handwritten in homemade paper. He died ten years ago.

In the seventh chapter, the authors talk about two Lepcha communities, Chindepani and Antu in Ilam. Chindepani is a traditionally sound- tight knit community of 19 families where Lepcha is spoken. Antu on the other hand hosts 24 Lepcha houses and are a little fragmented as they lack the community feeling. But both communities are trying hard to preserve their language, culture and the traditional heritage as the authors end the book with suggestions for them for near future.

Hoping to present part of the profits and royalties of this book to the Ilam Lepcha Assocation, Vaidya, Schwerzel and Tuinstra must be applauded for their original effort to account the Lepchas of Ilam.

"Lingthem Revisited"

2006-02-26T09:15:00.000+05:45

Lingthem Revisited
Social Change in a Lepcha Village of North Sikkim

-By Rip Roshina Gowloog

Publisher: Har-Anand Publications (1995)

ISBN: 81-241-0275-9

Written by Rip Roshina Gowloog as her doctoral thesis, "Lingthem Revisited," is a restudy of Lingthem, a Lepcha village in North Sikkim.

In 1937, Geoffrey Gorer and John Morris, the two British anthropologists studied this village and published "Himalayan Village" and "Living with the Lepchas" respectively, the following year.

Gowloog has tried to base her work in their findings and record the changes in the span of fifty years as she writes of "Lingthem in 1987."

While introducing the village, it is "desirable" that Dzongu, the Lepcha reserve is mentioned because Lingthem is located here. "It is the only place where the Lepcha land has not been alienated to any other community." In an attempt to restudy the similarities and differences of Lepcha lifestyle in Lingthem between 1937 and 1987, Gowloog mainly focuses in the change in economy, social organization, and religion.

The economy of Lingthem accounts to agriculture where Lepchas are alleged to be "poor agriculturalists." But Gowloog points out that the land has always been considered the most precious possession for the Lepchas. The form of cultivation has changed from shifting to settled while cardamom plantation takes a high toll as they are even grown at a height of about nine thousand feet.

In Gorer and Morris' report, "domestication of animals was more for socio-cultural reasons than for economic ones." Lepcha ceremonies relating to birth, marriage, and death all required animal feasting while medical diagnosis also required animal sacrifice. In Gowloog's report, economic value had found much favor in rearing animals as the Lepcha socio-cultural and medical practices were gradually disappearing.

In 1937, hunting, weaving, and carpentry were already in decline and it is no surprise that these three activities were hardly practiced in 1987. Trade however was much talked of during the Gorer and Morris years but according to Gowloog, "trading in the real sense has disappeared completely." People have now resorted to setting shops and engage in "petty business" instead.

Morris notes that in 1937 Lepchas of Lingthem had "a joint family system." While the parents went about doing their household chores, the children led a carefree life with no specific responsibilities. It was only until the introduction of schooling that now occupies their time is learning new languages, history etc. According to Gowloog, school for them can also mean, "subjection to a system of discipline which they are not used to and which they often resent."

In early days, marriages were usually arranged by the bek-bu, the middleman with much knowledge of the language and tradition as he negotiated between the bride and the groom's family. It is reported that the most popular form of marriage in 1987 study resulted the case of elopement.

Ancestor worship and mun-bongthingism were the two religions practiced by Lepchas until Lamaism found its way and have ruled the place. In a broader sense, "the Lepchas of Kalimpong have been considerably westernized and Christianized; those of Sikkim have been greatly Tibetanized; and those in Nepal Hinduized or Nepalicized." But the Lepchas of Lingthem have found their replacement in Lamaism as Gowloog reports of only two Christians in the village and Hinduism is yet to arrive.

The external influence to hamper their "traditional" culture have been discussed by scholars and writers as they often term Lepchas as "the vanishing tribe." It is saddening when Lepchas agree among themselves regarding this statement.

It is interesting when Gowloog says, "The feeling for fellow Lepcha, no matter what their economic status or religious affiliation, is clearly there. I could experience this personally at Lingthem. The enthusiasm and cooperation of the Lepchas whose help I sought was unparalleled. They could perhaps not be equally enthusiastic about helping me in my research if I were not a Lepcha."

Indeed Gowloog has reported the changes in Lingthem in the span fifty years time. Her effort is commendable. It is her contribution to the safeguarding of her people group.

Interestingly, the changes and external influences cannot be stopped. We live in a globalized world where the exchange of cultures and information is unstoppable.

It is a notable feat that the Dzongu reservation policy has safeguarded Lepcha culture and given hope for a people group on the verge of decline. It is only hoped that the Lepchas in Dzongu reserve will not be isolated as an "exotic" people group. It is but hoped that Lepchas living elsewhere will rethink their priorities… "my people live in a reserve!" and those able will awaken to do something for the betterment of the community.

It will be interesting to perhaps read a report on "Lingthem in 2037." It is anticipated that the changes reported will be more of a positive transformation update as the Lepchas in Lingthem balance their cultural-traditional ties with that of the postmodern world of today.

"Time Change"

2006-02-24T12:16:00.000+05:45

Time Change
An Autobiography

-By Hope Cooke

Publisher: Simon & Schuster (Feb 23, 1981)

ISBN: 0671412266

People did not and still do not know much about Sikkim. Fortunately, my good friend Zach knows enough to remember that it was once an independent country and Lepchas were the original inhabitants of the land. So, when my college library decided to get rid of unwanted books and magazines, Zach picked up a magazine, just for me.It was the March 1963 issue of the National Geographic Magazine with the story entitled, "Sikkim, Tiny Himalayan Kingdom in the Clouds."

Written by Desmond Doig, a British officer with the Gurkhas during World War II and the assistant editor of Calcutta’s The Statesman, the article was a colorful presentation of the then independent country bordered by Nepal, India, Bhutan, and Tibet.

Images of the region’s landscape, the flag, people groups and the royal family graced the 32-page spread meant solely for this piece. For anyone flipping through its pages, the picture of the crown prince and his American fiancée was bound to catch attention.

The picture was taken at the National Geographic headquarters in 1962 and the caption read, "Prince Thondup, a widower, met Hope Cooke at Darjeeling, India, in 1959."

Hope Cooke is indeed the name revered and abhorred, as she became the queen of Sikkim. Regrettably, she was also the last queen of Sikkim before the country was annexed by India in 1975 and the rest is history.

Fortunately, Cooke has lived to tell us of a personal story embedded with the historical change during that time in her autobiography "Time Change."

Starting the book as a reflection of a three-year-old in her grandparents’ apartment in New York, Cooke’s upscale upbringing in the Victorian atmosphere leads to an eventual transition in the palace of Sikkim and back to a bare apartment in New York as an immigrant to the United States.

Upon the death of her grandparents, Cooke’s journey to the East begins as she goes to live in Iran with her uncle who was serving as the U.S. ambassador there. Her spring vacation to India and the fascination for the country in due course brings her to the hills of Darjeeling where one afternoon, she is introduced to the Maharaj Kumar, or Crown Prince of Sikkim.

The relationship blossoms, Cooke is married to him in a very royal ceremony and the king’s death is preceded by the crown prince as the new Chogyal and Cooke as the Gyalmo of Sikkim.

One of her main responsibilities is mothering Chogyal’s three children, Wongchuk, Tenzing and Yanchgen from his first wife who had died several years ago and later the addition of her own children, Palden and Hope Leezum.

Her involvement in social affairs and befriending locals kept her busy as she very well balances her responsibilities. While attending socials at the India House, she was also encouraging local exports and introducing Sikkim to the rest of the world. Indians in New York did not favor these actions as they lobbied against Sikkim’s status in the international agenda and saw her as a threat.

"Some people would do anything to unseat Maharaj Kumar politically—and if he goes, so does Sikkim. I love Maharaj Kumar and Sikkim too much to jeopardize them. I can just see them using me as a wedge to help destroy his rule. It’s a squeeze from all sides; China might think I’m a U.S. presence and that my next step would be a strategic air base here. (The Bhutanese are so concerned not to upset China they won’t allow Peace Corps to work there.) India also has been hurtful, imperialist, to Sikkim in the past. Even now Indian army trucks rip around Gangtok as if they’re an occupying force, and if Maharaj Kumar ever complains, rumors go back to Delhi that he is anti-Indian. Although apparently Nehru was nice about the idea of our engagement when Maharaj Kumar went to see him in Delhi, fundamentally they won’t like this assertion of independence from Maharaj Kumar and could use it to hurt him."

But, Nehru, a Sikkim lover dies and his successor-cum-daughter Indira Gandhi proved otherwise to the friendship between India and Sikkim. Indian intelligence was at work with the help of some Sikkimese Nepalis and Kazi Lhendup and Kazini of Kalimpong to cause widespread disturbance in Sikkim.

Demostrators chanted, "Chogyal murdabad, Kazi ko jai, Indira Gandi ko jai, Bhutia Lepcha Khattam, Bharat ko Jai." (Death to the Chogyal, Long live Kazi, Long live Indira Gandhi, An end to Bhutia Lepchas. Long live India.")

The political unrest grew weary each day and Cooke finally decides to leave Sikkim with her kids to New York.

While readjusting to life in the United States, Cooke’s citizenship prospectus was denied even as a resident-alien status. So, all as she could now do was sit at her apartment with students from Sikkim and passively try to gain support.

Unfortunately, she writes that the "Little countries were powerless to help. Big ones, including America, too preoccupied to care." Even the delegates at the United Nations Human Rights Committee in Geneva are reported to have said, "We know what happened, but how can we oppose India?"

Meanwhile, "the Indian Army, under Government of India orders, attacked the palace and at gunpoint put the Chogyal and Tenzing, his son, under house arrest."

Soon enough, Chogyal was arrested and the Sikkimese were forced at bayonet point to raise the Indian flag.

The country was no more.

The Hindustan Times editor wrote, "Only the most blind or cynical will derive any satisfaction over the sorry progression of the Indian presence in Sikkim from that of friend to master."

But he was soon fired. Such was the end of Sikkim. But for Cooke, life is still strong. She is no more the Gyalmo of Sikkim but an author of a compelling life story that unearths episodes that were forgotten. Her fascinating description of the simple things in life and the ability to present a very royal story is intriguing.

This book is not just a personal autobiography but also a historical contribution to the past and present of Sikkim while unfolding the Sikkim royal family and the shameless revelation of Indian politics. There is a voice that has been successful in presenting the betrayal and injustice against Sikkim that acts as an example for the on-goings in politics and power plays today.

Cooke has also been very successful in silencing her critics who blame her as one of the factors for the demise of Sikkim. She was but a determined woman who loved Sikkim and was boldly walking through paths that no one in history will ever do so.

This article was originally published in The Kathmandu Post, August 30, 2004
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