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Gantok, Sikkim, a city in transition
[Another report from Asstant Director Garry Schalla's fall travels:]
I would have never thought that four years could make such a difference. The quiet tourist-driven economy of Gantok, Sikkim, India has begun a metamorphosis, in lieu of the possible China trade road. Despite the yearly landslides, on a major route not wide enough for two vehicles, and a city of 70,000 serviced by a total of eight paved city streets, the “progress” marches on. Each morning at 5 AM, the men arrive with their dolkas (woven baskets, carried by a rope through the basket and supported around the forehead) to carry the sand, rocks and mortar up and down steep steps to the construction sites. Road workers and common laborers still toil with primitive tools, with no heavy machinery, in a dichotomy of striking visual and mental proportions. The main market with its handicrafts, native goods and produce is vacant, replaced by a four-story shopping mall, and is now void of the energy this vibrant site once possessed. A city of “modern” hotels, banks, shoe stores, electronics, and cell phones. The banks are on every street and alley, hoping to cash in on the coming gamble, while offering loans to all who ask.
It was against this new backdrop that I needed to focus in Sikkim. My wife Monica and I had joked about the “modern” monks in 2001. They had leather shoes and wristwatches. Now these same monks have cell phones and DVD players. This culture is evolving faster than it can absorb and incorporate the changes.
At Sikkim Happiness Home, “Good afternoon, Sir!” rang out, sweet voices of the four girls, as they clamored down the hall toward us. Followed by “Where is Uncle Jim?” The greetings turned to silence as lunch was served, the girls wide-eyed over their guests. Pete Stravlo, who sponsors resident Ongkila Bhutia, had come with me from Ladakh after participating in the dental/vision clinic, to visit his “Sikkim daughter” for the first time . Lunch gave way to the rubber band game, homework, evening walk, dinner and dancing. The shy and curious girl's faces now beaming with smiles and laughter.
Tsering Paldon, our housemother and teacher, is truly a godsend to the girls. Through her hard work, the girls have continued to make tremendous strides in their education. She gleamed with pride: Palmu achieved 50/50 in her science exam; Daw Palmu 25/25 in science, 25/25 in general studies and 24/25 in English; Saraswati moving from eleventh in her class tests to seventh (and vows to be third by December tests). Tsering told the history of these successes, the hardships these young women are overcoming and the confidence and cohesion the group is developing.
But here, too, the city's transformation is encroaching. The playground for the girls within the courtyard is now the construction site of a new guesthouse; just down the street a new hotel has two floors up and is moving fast. It is more evident than ever that within the near future we will need to secure a better long-term residency for these girls. Kelsang Phuntosk, our program coordinator, has already started the process and the girls should be relocated by the first of the year.
Sundays are for picnics. There is a small park about a 30 minute walk away; the girls go with packed lunch, enjoying the time away from the confines of the Happiness Home. Although a nice getaway, they have not escaped the city. For the coming months, a special fund was given to Tsering for Sunday picnics. With this fund the girls will get into the countryside for their picnics, escaping the noise and learning about nature and native cultures. It will be a brief but needed escape from a city in transition. And time well spent, as these frail butterflies continue their extraordinary journeys, changing as fast as the city surrounding them.
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