The Tributary Fund

Updated website!

2010-11-12T13:40:00.000-08:00

The Tributary Fund is thrilled to announce that we have revamped our website so that it is more accessible to us...and more timely for you. And, our blog is now built in so there is no need to visit two sites to check out what we are doing. To keep up with us, go to www.thetributaryfund.org!

Thanks,

Claire

Community, Culture and Conservation: Forging Ahead

2010-10-21T09:50:00.000-07:00

I write this blog entry on a sunny afternoon, serenaded by the sound of a vacuum and the scratching of dog paws racing to flee the sucking onslaught of our wooden floors. I have a smidge more time for writing and reflecting since I shifted my role at The Tributary Fund from Executive Director to President/Founder. And now I am in the process of writing my dissertation.

My studies are focused on the roles of religion and science in western culture. It is an immense topic and one that keeps me busy but fascinated. My research has helped to better understand the origins, function, and impact of The Tributary Fund model. Stephen Jay Gould, eminent evolutionary biologist, saw religion and science as non-overlapping magisteria—realms that could reside independently, even compatibly, without interfering with each other. A self-professed agnostic, Gould felt that Abrahamic religions ask that one have faith in the unknown, while science seeks to empirically discover the unknown. Science and religion are both human constructs aimed at understanding our universe and both define our modern perspectives of the world in which we live.

The Tributary Fund works within three fundamental arenas: culture, community and conservation. We understand that culture is a result of layers of influence, including environment, economic opportunities, religion, colonialist influences, education, politics, and generational experiences. Communities are groups of people who live together, sharing a common culture, a set of values, and behaviors. The modern concept of conservation has arisen from our relatively recent understanding of the finite. Water, wildlife, and vegetation are sensitive to over-harvest, climate change, and habitat destruction. The threat of collapse has been made clear through the science of conservation biology, but response to this threat and subsequent behavioral changes haven’t yet permeated the cultures of many communities throughout the world. As we work to protect taimen, trees, or even tigers, we know that people are more likely to change bad habits as communities, together shifting to sustainable traditions and practices,

I read in today’s Wall Street Journal that people are better conservationists through tactics of shame and peer pressure. We all know religion is great at encouraging guilt! But people are social animals and behaviors are changed when leaders adopt new values for others to follow. Local poaching of elk, taimen, and musk deer has virtually stopped in the Eg-Uur because the nomads have their eyes on one another. A herder who killed a snow leopard in Bhutan on the Tibetan border is in jail because neighbors turned him in due to the fear of bad karma. In Washington DC, clean-up crews picked up 66% fewer plastic bags because grocery stores have customers ask for plastic sacks instead of automatically providing them. Community and culture come in all shapes and sizes: in schools, churches, even at the corner store. As science changes our understanding of the world, culture, as forged by everyone from Aristotle to Augustine to Darwin, must adjust to maintain the long-term viability of our oceans, forests, rivers and wildlife.Betsy Gaines Quammen

Oil and Water: My Trip to the Gulf

2010-07-30T16:37:00.000-07:00

The Louisiana Flag is emblazoned with a momma brown pelican bleeding from three red cuts as hungry chicks huddle below. The image is known as the “pelican of piety,” a symbol of Christian devotion so deep that a mother would give her own blood to feed her children if she had no other food to offer. Forty thousand browns nest in Louisiana, which has earned it the title of “Pelican State.” Pelecanus occidentalis, the brown pelican, was virtually wiped out a hundred years ago due to human slaughter. The birds were making a comeback but declined in the 1970’s due to the widespread use of DDT. But in the last thirty years, the population rebounded and the state bird was delisted from the Endangered Species Act last year.

Most people with a bit of vacation time before them might opt for a spa or a romantic get-away, but I went to the Pelican State. I needed to witness it, to see first hand the extent of the damage incurred in the largest environmental disaster in this country. I flew to New Orleans and the Gulf Coast in order to interview religious leaders facing the impacts of the oil spill. On my travels I was surprised by the deep scars of tragedy that Katrina left. Boarded up bungalows in the Lower Ninth Ward still bear spray-painted instructions for rescue workers who floated through flooded streets five years ago. Battered shells of shopping centers sit empty, their parking lots left weedy and buckled. Further south, stretches of roads have no commerce, churches or houses in places marked as towns on the map. But despite these deep cuts and the fact that 100,000 people still haven’t returned after fleeing the flooded land, residents of New Orleans and the coast, like the pelicans, have been bouncing back.

This is what makes the April 20 oil rig explosion and spill particularly painful. In the wake of Katrina, Louisiana, like Florida, Alabama and Mississippi, must face the impacts of the largest environmental disaster in US history. In coming to this beleaguered place, I was ready to howl and moan. I expected to meet the betrayed, forlorn people whom I saw every night on the news. But I didn’t find them. Instead I saw people ready to help commercial fishermen struggling to feed their families. I met some folks who were cautiously optimistic that the spill’s legacy would become a teaching moment in deepwater drilling. I met those who were furious at BP, but scared about an offshore oil moratorium. And I met those who thought that Louisianans had only themselves to blame. But the prevailing feeling was “if we survived the hurricane, we can survive this oil spill.”

A hundred days after the explosion of the Deepwater Horizon the cap seems to be holding and the clean-up is progressing in fits and starts. Though surface oil seems to be less evident, efforts will become more erratic as the summer moves further into hurricane season. If everything goes according to the best-case scenario, the spill at 5,000 feet deep and at 50 miles off shore will be broken down largely by the microbes in this dynamic semi-tropical ecosystem. Unlike Alaska’s Exxon Valdez disaster, life in the Gulf is constantly growing, decaying, and renewing. But there has never been a leak so significant on American shores and we have no idea what the long-term impacts will be. Especially in an ecosystem so badly compromised already.

Like the vulning pelican, Louisianans have their own self-inflicted wounds. At the turn of the century, levees were built to allow for navigation between the Mississippi River and the Gulf. This prevented natural flooding of the wetlands, which had always replenished the marshes with fresh water and the mud to anchor large trees and prevent erosion. Mud now flows into the Gulf, along with agricultural run-off, and a dead zone stretches between 6,000 and 7,000 miles beyond the river’s mouth. In addition to the navigation impacts, between 1955 and 1978 the oil industry dredged and drained coastal wetlands in order to build pipelines to carry large deposits of oil and natural gas to refineries just north of the Gulf. Now saline water mixes with freshwater marshes, killing sensitive grasses which again causes erosion. Every year Louisiana looses 20,000 acres of wetlands, contributing to loss of habitat and the last line of defense in the between a raging hurricane and New Orleans.

The first signs I saw of the oil disaster were actually just that, signs. “Save our Seafood,” read banners throughout downtown New Orleans. After several trips to the Big Easy, I can see how much Louisianans love their food. Depriving them of a shrimp po’ boy for lunch is akin to stealing tango from Argentina. In a state where veins of brackish water run through marshes and cypress swamps, the very soul of Louisiana lies embodied in fruits of the sea. Eating is a ritual, a reaffirmation, and a celebration. Every sauce-drenched bite pays homage to Creole and Cajun generations of mamaws and papaws. Since fishing was banned in many areas in the wake of the spill, many restaurants were forced to pull local seafood items from their menus. You could almost hear dem rattlin’ bones of ancestors rolling in their graves.

I met with the religion reporter Bruce Nolan from the New Orleans Times Picayune, the highly awarded newspaper that won twenty Pulitzer Prizes for its coverage of Katrina. He gave me a list of names and numbers of preachers and priests working with fishing communities that have been affected by the spill. Bruce also explained the impacts of Katrina, and gave me a snapshot of post-Katrina New Orleans. I heard about regional reactions to the oil spill and the power of faith leaders in Louisiana, whom so many rely on in times of uncertainty.

Bruce shared one aspect of Katrina that astonished him—the highly coordinated interfaith emergency response. Right after Katrina, different faiths came with their respective aid organizations and instantly asserted themselves in collaborative niches throughout the relief effort. The first on the scene were Southern Baptists who arrived in New Orleans less than 24 hours after Katrina with 18-wheeler mobile kitchens to serve hot meals to the survivors and rescue teams. Next came Catholic Relief and Methodists who worked to council the homeless, hand out vouchers to Wal-Mart and the Family Dollar, and issue checks for utilities bills. Jewish aid groups sent clothing, food, and raised money for community restoration. Mennonites came with their carpentry skills to help rebuild homes. Each denomination had a skill and each worked together through the relief. Bruce marveled at their efficiency and their charity. I couldn’t help but wonder if these coalitions could team up to be proactive, rather than reactive.

After making calls and setting up meetings, I drove down to Chalmette in St. Bernard Parish where the impacts of Katrina were still so raw and evident. Reverend Henry Ballard of Christian Fellowship Church showed me where the water line had been in his church. “About ten feet, where the exit sign was…,” he explained. Henry had organized a daily prayer group for fishing families in St. Bernard Parish, driving 45 minutes to Hopedale where people show up every morning to get hired by BP for the day, laying and repairing boom. “We (local pastors) had been meeting the last three and a half years,” he explained. “We can work together for service projects and prayer. We were an organized group.” Now Henry’s group is taking turns to travel to Shell Beach, Hopedale and Delacroix--the sites of the clean-up operations in Saint Bernard Parish. With catholic Relief Services, they care for the families who are suffering due to restrictions on fishing. But it’s not just fishing families that are suffering. It’s the local guy who sold ice to keep the fish fresh. The trucker who hauled it to New Orleans. The restaurant that served the catch and the laundry service that washed the restaurants linens. Henry even told me that he heard of some churches in Alabama that are filing claims with BP over empty collection plates.

Next stop was Our Lady of Lourdes, a tiny church on a two lane highway, tucked under giant oaks and curtains of Spanish moss, where I met Father John. He ministers to two congregations in St Bernard and 60% of his congregants are fisherman. Set up next to Lourdes is a large mobile Catholic Relief truck. Catholic Relief is issuing vouchers for groceries and giving out small checks for incidentals. The week prior to my visit, Kenneth Feinberg, the man in charge of dividing BP’s $20 billion settlement was in the area meeting people affected by the spill. He has his work cut out for him—those laid off from fishing and the oil industries are simply the tip of the iceberg. The entire economy down here depends on fish and oil. The two are so closely linked that Morgan City, a nearby port, holds the Shrimp and Petroleum Festival every year. This will be its 75th year, and according to the planners, rain or shine or spill, the show will go on from September 2-6.

Lafitte, Louisiana is a town of about 3,000 folks. Until the last few years, most of them fished the coast to make a living, but apparently Chinese imports of shrimp and crabs have priced them out of the market. I was told when I visited St. Anthony’s Church that only a hundred or so families in their community work in the industry. Wearing a giant straw hat over a glistening brow, still wet from mowing the large front lawn of his church, Father Ryan showed me into his tiny, crowded office. Born in Ireland, he had been in Louisiana since 1972, and in Lafitte for almost as long. His town sits below the levees and could easily be wiped out by a big hurricane, but community members can’t decide where to put a levee, he told me, so instead they built a brand new $6,000,000 library in addition to the old one. He points to political corruption, greediness, lack of good education, and the fact that without a repaired coast, southern Louisiana is literally sunk. “I don’t know how many more hits we can take,” he said matter-of-factly.

Though Father Ryan was the reluctant to talk with me when I had called him to set up an appointment, he spent the entire afternoon with me, occasionally telling me, “I only have 10 more minutes, sweetie,” in his Irish brogue. He told me about his hopelessness over the situation and the erosion of the coast due to 10,000 miles of canals in wetlands built for pipelines. When I asked him about a project that bundles Christmas trees from New Orleans, hauling them south and dumping them into eroded areas in the hopes of building buffers, he laughed and shook his head. “Ye blind guides, which strain at a gnat, and swallow a camel,” he says and asks me if I know the passage in the Book of Matthew. I don’t, I admit, but I get the gist. When you focus on petty stuff, you miss the big picture.

When I apologized for all the time I had taken, he turned to me and asked if I’d been to the swamp. “Um, not yet.” It was 97 degrees, muggy, and it was the last place I wanted to go. But I knew this was a great opportunity. And so, even though he had “only ten minutes,” we went to a trail and entered another world. Walking through giant Cypress rooted in murky brown water, he seemed less melancholy. “This is the way it should be,” he said, dodging Spanish moss and slapping deer flies that crowded below the rim of his hat.

I had told him of my interest in bird protection and he suddenly called out, “There, look, it’s one of your friends,” pointing to a white heron as it glided through the gray-green forest. Even if Father Ryan was hopeless about the state of the environment as he pondered it from behind his desk, here he seemed contented amid the buzz of cicadas and the mysterious dull splashes of water in the lagoons. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked me several times. He showed me cypress knees puking up out of the water. “They look like a bunch of old men, don’t they?” he asked. Then he implored me to take home a piece of Spanish moss. When he got to the end of the trail and back to the car, Father Ryan went back to being cynical. “I’m not sure why you wanted to see me. I can’t help much.” But he really did help. I saw his heavy heart lighten in the swamp, and he confirmed for me that nature is a tonic, even to the most hardened. Thoreau said “in wilderness, is the preservation of the world.” I’d like to think it is our salvation as well.

My last day, I traveled to Avery Island, home to Henry McIlhenny, a place famous for Tabasco Sauce and its protected coastal birds. Father Ryan had made me promise not to leave Louisiana without going to the rookery, because my dissertation is on pastors in the southern United States working to protect birds during the ravages of the millinery trade. McIlhenny is also known for his books Autobiography of an Egret and Bird City. According to local lore, McIlhenny heard about a Rajah who built a rookery of exotic birds for his queen, and after his death, as the bamboo infrastructure fell into disrepair, the birds continued to nest there, year after year. In 1892, as egrets faced extinction at the hands of the plume traders, McIlhenny went into the swamps and captured seven egrets and put them in a wire cage with artificial nests. When the migratory season arrived, he released them, and to his great delight, they returned in the spring from spending a winter in South America. Today, due to his efforts, 20,000 egrets live in an area called Bird City. The cacophony of their cries is a true celebration of McIlhenny genius. Their boisterous song represents the resilience of nature and the ability of humanity to tackle and solve conservation issue. Unfortunately, we as a species react when things are dire. Extinction gets our attention. Oil-covered birds get our attention. Huddled homeless masses stranded by a monster hurricane gets our attention. In Louisiana, I hope there is some time for careful strategic planning. What if these interfaith coalitions that coalesced during Katrina demanded coastal restoration and new policy for drilling? This team would prove unstoppable!

I flew back on the plane with the state coordinator of International Bird Rescue who was going home to celebrate her mother’s birthday. When I asked her how things were going down on the coast, she was positive, maybe even a bit boastful. She said, and I paraphrase ‘we’ve been through this before. We know what we’re doing. We’ve got birds recovering in facilities all over Florida, Louisiana and Alabama.’ She was reassuring. Yes, our Earth is resilient, but the more damage it incurs, the less it will bounce back.

I’m home in Montana. It’s in the 70’s. The sky is blue. My Spanish moss is laying flat in a notebook. And I feel better than I thought I would with my small exploration in Louisiana. I am left with two distinct impressions. I don’t think things are hopeless, like my friend Father Ryan. But I also don’t think we can count on response teams forever, no matter how well they do their jobs. Louisiana has incredibly impressive, highly skilled and organized teams. But it’s time to get out in front of disaster. The pelican of piety can feed her chicks her own blood when there is no other food around, but eventually she too will run dry no matter how many times we bandage her.

Betsy Gaines Quammen
The Tributary Fund Founder and President

Compassion & Conservation: Inspiration and Commitment in Mongolia

2010-05-30T22:56:00.000-07:00

May 23rd, UB, Mongolia

I hardly recognize this city from my first visit 8 years ago. Cranes and scaffoldings fill the skyline. Traffic lurches and grinds. A cacophony of horns and power tools accompany a burgeoning population increasing daily with nomads who flood the city limits. In fact, last week I read in the Ulaan Baatar Post that UB is now the most polluted city in the world due to the abundance of vehicles and wood burning stoves. When I first visited, it was possible to run for miles on broken sidewalks beside light traffic. My biggest concern then was the chance encounter with foraging packs of dogs. Now, UB has a huge population with a limited infrastructure. Recent émigrés from the steppes come in hopes of a job and an easier urban life. Together we walk through UB’s tangled chaos, dodging busses and gapping manholes; around us foreign money fast at work building structures that scrape the sky.

Because of Mongolia’s rapid development, we are more committed than ever to help Mongolians deal with the accompanying environmental pressures. I’m here for our second annual Compassion and Conservation conference; an effort aimed empowering Mongolian monks to be conservation advocates. Last week, TTF, along with Gandan Monastery, World Bank, NEMO, Alliance of Religions & Conservation (ARC), and the Mongolian Ministry of Nature and Environment hosted over 50 Buddhist nuns and monks from each province in Mongolia to address Mongolia’s environment.

Monks are becoming increasingly active on sustainability issues. As the price of gold continues to rise, the gold mining industry in Mongolia is explosive. Recently in eastern Mongolia, 60 monks staged a sit-in at a sacred site where a Chinese company was illegally mining and stopped the operation. Sacred sites in Mongolia are a top tier priority for the monks and conference dialogue centered on the need for a united front in the protection of these special areas. Conference topics also included: the promotion of traditional construction practices for monasteries; solar energy in monastic communities; ecology and environmental education for young monks and members of the lay community on environmental practices; reducing waste; and looking for the ancient ecological teachings that can be found in the ancient sutras which were hidden during the 60 years of communist rule last century.

The work at last week’s workshop represents a global effort that ARC and the UNDP launched to engage faiths around the world to design and implement strategies for environmental protection and to encourage a global network of believers to improve their relationship to the Earth. At our Compassion and Conservation conference, Mongolia’s Buddhist leaders announced an eight year plan of action for Mongolian environmental protection. Thirty similar plans crafted by a variety of traditions from nine major world faiths were announced at Windsor Castle in November 2009, by Prince Philip, founder of ARC and the Secretary-General of the United Nations, Ban Ki-moon.

The Mongolian plan is focused on several key issued: emphasizing traditional construction practices of monasteries; reviving taboos in sacred places that will discourage digging, polluting rivers, cutting trees, and killing animals; advocating biodegradeable khadags (silk ceremonial scarves tied to trees, rocks and shrines); reduction of incense use; and to continuing to examine sacred texts or sutras on the importance of nature in Mongolian Buddhism. Of Mongolia’s 600 plus sacred sites in Mongolia, at least 280 have rediscovered their own associated sutras.

The outcomes of the conference were really exciting. The monks are issuing an edict to encourage monasteries and temples to save energy and water, and monitor their consumption; develop solar capabilities; expand community gardens and green sites around monasteries; raise public awareness on traditional environmental practices; educate for forest fires prevention and other impacts caused by human factors; and to advocate reduction of plastic bags and bottles. The monks are pursuing campaigns on land and river protection by targeting mining companies without modern technologies or restoration capabilities; introducing an auspicious day of environmental celebration every year; planting trees (learning which species to plant depending on conditions and how to maintain growth); hosting environmental workshops for nomads on grazing practices; and discouraging illegal hunters from killing wildlife.

After the conference, Chimga, Sue and I celebrated the energy in the monk body and their deep commitment. Not only has UB grown since I first arrived, but so have the seeds of passion on the part of the monk body. They are truly motivated--the biggest issue right now is helping them not bite off more than the can chew! During a debriefing, while we were discussing implementation and tying up loss ends with the Buddhist leadership, Sue, Chimga and I were urgently rushed out of a room at the Gandan and handed yellow khadags. Visiting Gandan is the 9th Bogdo, a reincarnate of Zanabazar, the founder of Mongolian architecture and the country’s most celebrated lama and artist. We were whisked into private apartments guarded by several security guards and told to wait. After a few minutes, we kicked off our shoes, shed our purses at the assistance of stern monks, and were ushered into a back room. There sat Zanabazar, living his ninth life on Earth. We received a quick blessing from the ancient man, cross-legged and tired, loudly coughing. This beloved bodhisattva, so revered in Mongolia, is clearly nearing a time when he will depart this life and return again. It was a very special note on which to end our work...

As I pack to return home, I feel inspired in a way that has alluded me recently. Step by step, we see a deepening environmental commitment —incredibly important due to the increasing symptoms of rapid modernization! I leave eager to work on next goals and feel blessed (literally!) to be working with such incredible people. I can say to you with absolute conviction, is that across the planet, in a city that’s bursting at the seams, there is hope for a cleaner, greener world.
Betsy

Measuring Happiness by the Breadth of a Smile

2009-12-24T22:30:00.000-08:00

Sunday:

Nursing a cold, but nothing too bad. I am actually happy to stay in my room today after a rigorous and exhilarating walk yesterday with Patrizia, an Italian who grew up in Afghanistan and Iran, moved to Bhutan in the 80’s and married a Bhutanese man who now serves at the Minister of Foreign Affairs. She is ebullient and full of energy, sharing stories and insights into the people and direction of Bhutan. Her biggest pet peeve is connecting “indicators” to track GNH. This is a philosophy, not statistics, she explained. It was what the King said was the be valued over GNP. She told me that when the Prime Minister heard about linking GNH with measurable outcomes, he said, ‘I measure my happiness by the breadth of my smile.’ But indicators have indeed been established in the interest of foreign aid agencies. These indicators are based on: Time Use (value of civic and voluntary work, value of unpaid housework and child care, value of leisure time, paid work hours); Living Standards (income and its distribution, financial security - debt and assets, economic security index; Natural Capital (soils & agriculture, forests, fisheries and marine resources, energy, air, water); Human Impact on the Environment (solid waste, ecological footprint, greenhouse gas emissions, transportation); Human and Social Capital (population health, costs of crime, educational attainment).

Patrizia’s history is extraordinary. She talked of visiting the Bamyan Valley every year, 143 miles northwest of her former home in Kabul, with her family where they vacationed in the valley of a thousand Buddhas. Once a central stopping point of silk route traders, Bamyan is now famous for the Taliban’s policy to destroy all ‘idols.’ In 2001, after using dynamite, anti-aircraft guns, artillery, and anti-tank mines to chip away at two huge Buddhas (one was 180 feet tall, the other 121) for weeks, men were ultimately lowered down a rock cliff to place explosives into holes in the statue’s faces. Patrizia explained that the valley contained countless states, paintings, and rooms built into the surrounding rock faces. It was a lovely place to vacation and one whose memory continues to captivate her. She recalls being stuck en route to Bamyan as nomads with hundreds of camels lumbered along the road, their possessions piled atop their long-legged beasts of burden. The family sat and watched for two hours as the caravan carefully negotiated the high mountain cliff road until disappearing into the dust.

Our caravan consisted of two women and a sweet natured little black dog, named Chu-Shon or “small face” (forgive all spelling and recollection of Dzonka!). We three walked the steep trail, winding through lush rhododendron trees and pines draped in soft gray-green mossy-lichen. Yaks walked unyoked, wandering vertically up and down the mountain, jangling musical bells tied to their necks. We stuck to the rutted switch backs, carved for centuries by monks, pilgrims, and long-dead yaks, who no doubt provided the genetic material of the off-duty off-spring clanking through the trees today. It snowed lightly on us as we passed chortens (small monuments), picked up garbage left by careless hikers (most likely the monks themselves!) and talked of Patrizia’s two children, the difficult birth of her first born, and her passion for Bhutan. She had no tolerance for ineffectual foreigners with good intentions but bad ideas.

“They cannot make mistakes here. The Bhutanese are allowed the occasional mistake, but foreigners who come to help, have to make Bhutan the priority, not their own interests. We can not afford the mistakes of outsiders.”

When we reached the monasteries (were there ten? twelve?), we rested, drank water and watched the children of the yak herders playing with wooden darts. Dogs barked and chased one another as puppies yelped for milk from their skinny mother. We looked down at Thimpu, a city modernizing at an alarming rate, from a vantage point seemingly a thousand miles and years away.

Our trip down was quick and we arrived at Patrizia’s car at dusk with a bag of trash and made our way back to her house. Her husband, Ugen Tserling, the Minister, had just returned from India on business. He was getting a cold, and seemed quite tired; after being diagnosed with Parkinson’s the year before, everyday is a struggle for him. He was beyond kind and gentle, and I shared an early dinner with him, Patrizia and their fourteen year old daughter Laura, home for the holidays from a Thai boarding school.

Patrizia told me that Ugen had finally opened up about his condition to Michael J. Fox, a fellow sufferer, who visited Bhutan looking for clues to happiness and exploring optimism for a documentary. In Bhutan, while there are people fighting Parkinson’s, apparently no one discusses it openly. Ugen was able to share his experience with perhaps the most famous, and certainly most well traveled (he’s gone back to the future in a nuclear Delorean!), person in the world. Patrizia said that this meeting offered Ugen a great deal of comfort.

And so here I am, listening to the deep notes of the long Tibetan Buddhist horns being blown, punctuated with the crash of cymbals. It’s impossible to escape Buddhism here, not that I’d want to. The smell of incense, the ready smiles, the deep earthly bellowing chants, and the dry rattle of pray beads are enveloping. So many travel here to understand what makes this place so magical. I hope TTF can, in a small way, show Patrizia that we’ll heed her warning and do good here. She did laughingly ask if she could open TTF’s Bhutan office. Not a bad idea!

~ Betsy

The Youngest and Most Reluctant Democracy in the World

2009-12-18T22:36:00.000-08:00

Thursday:

Today is National Day and the stragglers still in the country after last’s weeks GNH conference piled into a bus and drove to the stadium for the morning’s festivities. We were ushered onto the field, carefully avoiding the rice designs covering the red carpet, and seated in reserved aisles set aside for civil servants and visiting guests. Before us were placed plates of candy and beetle nut, the latter a mild intoxicant that is chewed in leaves and responsible for red teeth and crimson spittle all over the sidewalks. The occasion was full of pomp and circumstance, with elegant lamas in red silk and the military in full dress uniforms. A marching band performed as the King’s father arrived. K4, as he’s affectionately called, abdicated his throne last year to his son, the fifth king. This esteemed member of the Wangchuk dynasty also brought democracy to this country by holding elections in Dec of 2007, making it both the youngest and most reluctant democracy in the world.

According to writer Kavi Chongkittavorn, “Before the poll, Bhutan had been governed - for the past 129 years - by an absolute monarch. But a few years ago the former King Jigme Wangchuk Namgyal decided to transform his Himalayan kingdom and began preparing for democracy.

Unlike other new democracies elsewhere, Bhutan's democratic transition was smooth and peaceful, as it was bestowed willingly by the king. The elected members of both houses of parliament,” he continues, “ amount to less than 100 of the kingdom's total population of 680,000. The success or failure of democratization in Bhutan will depend solely on their cooperation and professionalism.”

Democracy has not been easy in Bhutan. The monarchy is so well-loved that the Bhutanese didn’t understand the need for an elected government. But democracy prevailed and Prime Minister Jigmi Y. Thinley was sworn in to office in April, 2008.

Explains the PM Thinley,

“The people were, yes, apprehensive. (About democracy) The people were not keen on bringing the kind of change that, in their eyes and in their mind, could not be very different from what they saw in the world at large and in particular in our neighboring countries in South Asia. In many of the countries, democracy had failed or was in the process of failing, and leading to tremendous upheavals, strife among the people. In some cases, they have seen so much violence that people felt that under the benevolent rule of a king, who was so very popular, who was revered, loved, and adored by the people, they had the best. And they were not about to give up the best that they had for something that, as I said, could perhaps not be different from what they saw elsewhere. So they were anxious. But the king prevailed over them, saying that even though the final choice must be theirs, they must realize that the king becomes the leader only by the accident of birth and not by merit or by virtue, and that to place the future of a country in the hands of such a person is not in the long-term interest of the country.”

Change is happening so fast in Bhutan. Chongkittavorn mentions, “In 2003, the kingdom had no mobile phones; now one-third of the population has a mobile phone while there are only 25,000 fixed lines. With the proliferation of satellite dishes and cable and direct TV, even the remote villages hidden in the mountains now have access to hundreds of channels - and the means to get more of the information they will need to make democracy work.” Of course that access also creates a corrosion in traditional values. Without a great deal of media literacy, TV will of course cause more problems than it may be cure.

But enough about that! Back to the event...
The fifth king arrived at last draped in a gold sash. Regaled by bodyguards over whom he towered, the young monarch was resplendent. With his arrival, the program commenced with prayers. Then the King gave an address in Dzonka, the national language, after which he offered numerous awards to notable citizens. Then the dances began with whirling “heroes” in colorful silks, beautiful “angels” running to protect their kingdom, and school children performing folk dances. I caught a few snippets on a very crude video camera—I'll post later. The program ended with tug-of-war, tae kwon do, and a national dance in which we all participated, three giant circles slowly moving clockwise and as we shifted our hands up and down. It was a ball!

Oh, almost forgot to mention—I spoke with the King. (I actually didn’t forget at all—I met the KING!!!) He was so tall and striking. He came over to the small knot of GNH participants and chatted us up. He was so gracious, articulate, and handsome--distinctions that have earned him a very large following of teen-aged Asian girls. As the youngest monarch in the world, he is also amazingly humble and committed to Bhutan. Here is an excerpt from his coronation address:

"Throughout my reign I will never rule you as a King. I will protect you as a parent, care for you as a brother and serve you as a son. I shall give you everything and keep nothing; I shall live such a life as a good human being that you may find it worthy to serve as an example for your children; I have no personal goals other than to fulfill your hopes and aspirations. I shall always serve you, day and night, in the spirit of kindness, justice and equality."

Friday:
Today will be quiet, but tomorrow I join my friend Patrizia for a day long hike up to a monastery. Should be a good work out—a climb to 13,000!

~ Betsy

300 Cranes Providing Mood Music

2009-12-18T00:01:00.000-08:00

Dec 14:
Monday morning, early!

I’m here in spectacular Phobjikha Valley, home to black-necked cranes, tigers, Himalayan black bear, leopards, boar, red fox, sambars, muntjaks, and lots of dogs. It’s the site of our first Bhutanese project with the Royal Society for Protection of Nature (RSPN).

Yesterday I drove here in a new pick-up truck with RSPN staff members Richen, Jigme, and Chetan. We stopped along the way for lunch and vegetable shopping and bought buckets of chilies, a Bhutanese favorite. An old woman who measured the red and green thumb sized fruits (veggies?) on old fashioned hand held scales. We also stopped for some peppery lettuce from a road side stand, where the attending father and daughter carefully wrapped a head in newspaper and informed us that they were not charging for the produce. When I asked why these people, who weren’t rich by any stretch, were giving their crops away, Richen shrugged and said, “It’s so normal in Bhutan. When we go to buy vegetables, if we only buy one thing, the farmer sometimes says, ‘It’s so little, just take it.’ People here give so much away...” Another example of Gross National Happiness in practice!

This morning, I’m finishing a breakfast of rice and beans (a standard the world over, like corn flakes, which have also been offered to me every morning). I’m waiting for Richen to come and help dress me. Tserling, another RSPN staff in Thimphu, took me shopping for a half kira to wear while I’m in the field. I’ve been told that the Bhutanese really like to see foreigners in Bhutanese traditional costume, though many visitors wear jeans, even to monasteries. So today I will break-out my ankle length wrap-around skirt to show some R-E-S, P-E-C-T!

Monday evening:

Sitting down to a warm fire and a cold “Druk 11000, Super Strong Beer!” The beer doesn’t seem strong, but I’m at 9,500 feet and I’ve been working since the crack of dawn, so I’d better write this fast, because, given time, the Druk (Dragon!) 11000 is going to sap me of my already limited cognitive abilities. Today was so full. I visited two monasteries and met with Phobjikha Valley’s governance board, which included two county “headmen,” the head of the agricultural unit, the head of the forestry unit, and the valley’s leaders of Bhutan’s opposing political parties. These opposition leaders are two middle aged women who are best friends. The national newspaper did an article on them last year, explaining how opposing political views should not cause friction. These ladies have been touted nationally for their exemplary Bhutanese behavior, serving as role models in promoting productive relationships between citizens with differing views.

Phobjikha Valley is absolutely glorious. “On the western slopes of the Black Mountains, bordering the Jigme Singye Wangchuch National Park, this valley is one of the most important wildlife preserves in the country,” reads my Lonely Planet Bhutan guide books. On this particular day, the sun filters through clouds that hem the valley, shining down on prayer flags whipped by winds. The songs of the three hundred cranes provide mood music as we walk through the hummocky wetlands to pay visits to the local people.

At the Gangte Goemba, we arrived at lunchtime (much to our embarrassment—so presumptuous!), and were guided to tables heaped with Bhutanese red rice, sliced pork fat, and ema datse—the ketchup of Bhutan—chilies and cheese. The food was delicious! The Khenpo (head lama) was incredibly friendly and wants very much to work on conservation. He has just started a nature club, but is hungry for activities, curricula and training. I’m meeting with him next week to follow-up, but I am thrilled to say, “we’ve got game in Bhutan!” This monastery is perfect to begin monastery eco-clubs and he is also quite keen on bringing in ecology studies. I left him with first aid kits and some over-the-counter medicine. Before I walked out into the cold sunshine, Khenpo had a band-aid on his finger. Not sure if it was for an old cut or just for decoration.

The Phobjikha Valley, in addition to its abundant wildlife, also provides a home to a potato farming community. According to local sources, once upon a time, a wild boar and a snake had a race to determine the crop that the valley could grow. If the snake won, the valley could grow rice; if the boar crossed the finish line first, the valley would grow potatoes. It seems that boar won. The valley now grows potatoes for export to India.

As the population has increased in Phobjikha and potato production has increased, chemical fertilizers and pesticides have found their way into the valley wetland, Bhutan’s largest. There is a real concern that these chemicals will destroy the crane habitat along with the valley’s drinking water. The valley residents understand the issue, but there is no market for organic potatoes in Bhutan or in Indian towns near the Bhutanese border. Without economic incentive, there is no interest in changing agricultural practices. But, there is one idea that Phobjikha’s Governing Board is eager to explore—organic potato chip production. They are very enthusiastic about producing organic potato chips and are eager for TTF to help them explore options. They feel that organic boutique potato chips might find a market in India and China. When I get back, I promised to convene our business committee and look into this idea—it seems very doable. Training and a market would encourage all of the valley farmers to go organic!

As is the issue with agricultural runoff, human waste is a huge issue in the valley. Sanitation is becoming an increasingly difficult issue and if I heard the word toilet once, I heard it a thousand times. I was told that the other valley monastery is desperate for green toilets for a dorm they are building in the middle of the wetland. When I asked why the structure was in the middle of the wetland, it was explained to me that the dorm is next to their monastery, also in the middle of the wetland. Why is this monastery in the middle of a wetland, I wondered. Well, it seems that about 600 years ago one of Bhutan’s most famous monks, Lama Drukpa Kunley, “the divine madman,” dreamed that a monastery should be built on this spot. And it was built here, about 600 years ago. I guess it’s hard to argue with a lama who blessed people with a wooden phallus, a practice that Lama Drukpa Kunley was famous for, and one that accounts for the penises painted on houses and shops throughout the country. And so I promised to research toilets and sanitation in wetland areas when I returned.

I’m taking my last sip of Druk 11000 and heading to bed. To sum up: This valley is so critical to the black necked crane, that if we could put some thought into altering farming methods, building composting toilets designed for areas of high water tables, training programs for the Khenpo and monks on water quality and wildlife conservation, and piggy-backing on active environmental education programs that RSPN has already rolled out, we could make Phobjikha a model community for harmonious human-wildlife relationships in critical habitat. Could be cool!

~ Betsy

I Could Have Danced All Night...

2009-12-15T21:05:00.000-08:00

Friday, Dec 11:
Today, "Educating for Gross National Happiness" focused on non-formal education. One of the biggest problems in Bhutan are the disenfranchised youth who do not pass their grade 10 exams. Without passage, they are flushed from the system at 16. Lama Shenphen Zangpho, works with these children, who, after failing out of school, spend their days taking pills, smoking pot, drinking, and playing snooker. Since they lack a high school diploma, they have little hope of finding jobs. Due to the increasing number of boys on the streets, today we grappled with ideas of reforming the exam system so as not to loose kids to the streets; the creation of vocational schools and community colleges; and building alternative economies for those without high school educations. The statistics and need are staggering. Only thirty percent of the students in Bhutan pass their tenth grade exams.

Media Literacy came up over and over...the difficulties of western television and the false perception that those living abroad all are rich and have lots of sex. These perceptions are taking its toll on the Bhutanese population and are eroding the values of GNH. Children need to be able to understand that though seductive, many programs are neither accurate or enriching.

At the break, I had a long chat with the Minister of Education about monastery schools. Monks study dharma from the time they are children without exposure to any academic studies. Although dharma studies are intellectually rigorous, there is a real interest in English classes as well as science and other academic tracks. The Tributary Fund is interested in introducing ecology, a science that reflects the Buddhist ideals or inter-connectedness. Perhaps this can be seen as the first step in reforming the monastery school education model. Ecological studies could pave the way for other academic opportunities if it is accepted by the monk body. I will leave on Sunday for Phobjikha Valley to meet with monks and teachers. When I came here in April, I asked the young monks, if they could study anything what would it be? “Animals,” was the nearly universal answer. By introducing ecology to monastery schools, we’ll indulge the interests of the children and introduce science. This will hopefully inspire educated and passionate monastic stewards who enjoy such high respect in their communities.

My evening ended on a high note. I went to a small dinner party thrown by the Prime Minister. The food was amazing! Tandoori chicken, naan, rice pilau, fish curry, chili pork and very nice red wine! It must be good to be Prime Minister and it was good to be his guest. The ministers all wore their formal ghos—red stripped, knee length robes, with formal knee socks and shoes. The women wore their long formal skirts, also stripped, wrapped several times around their hips. I was seated next to the PM and after the meal we cut the rug to Bhutanese folk music. It was so delightful and so joyful, that I can’t remember when I felt so fortunate (maybe the entire month I spent in France with my wonderful husband). We finished the evening with a traditional dance where we all joined pinkies and moved clock-wise in a circle, bowing and kicking up our heels.

Saturday, Dec 12:
Saturday was a day of crafting timelines and wrapping up the week. Frankly, it was boring and my eyes are crossed. But despite the tedious nature of today’s discussion, when my mind returns from this numb state, I know that I will take something very valuable away from here. I have witnessed a culture bent on creating a true brave new world. By valuing the Gross National Happiness over modernization, money, influence, and status quo, Bhutan is showing such courage and integrity, that this week, it has outshined all other nations in the world. GNH is so plucky, but, after hearing about all of the potential pitfalls, first and foremost HUMAN NATURE, is GNH Quixotic?

I’d like to quote a British participant who has lived in Bhutan for 38 years, when he came in 1971 to teach the children of the King. He loves this country and adores its culture. He has been a notable cynic throughout the workshop, and today his comments focused on his love of the culture and the enormity of the task at hand. With a wry smile that the British have truly mastered, he said, “Anything worth doing, is worth doing badly.” Educating for Gross National Happiness is worth doing because it is beautiful. So, I’ll say to my Bhutanese friends, despite your protracted, sloppy, circuitous, and impossible road ahead, “Buddha speed.” And I’m in...

“Who amongst us, as we began to walk, didn’t fall a thousand times?” asked one conference attendee.

No one, of course. Educating for GNH is Herculean, but Bhutan has four enormous assets— a Prime Minister, who is incredibly dedicated and has made Educating for GNH an utmost priority; the fifth King, who at 29, is as devoted to his country as his father, the founder of GNH; a country with an environment and culture that maintains a purity unknown in much of the world; and the most elegant and committed children I have ever encountered. If any country can light the way for the world, it’s Bhutan. I am beyond thrilled that TTF is along for the ride.

Still more to come on Phobjikha and the trick of maintaining a secular Buddhist philosophy in the classroom. (It will in fact come as it’s for my PhD advisor!)

~ Betsy

Tales of a 12-Year-Old Prime Minister

2009-12-14T11:46:00.000-08:00

Thursday, Dec 10...

We began the morning with the announcement that the government of Bhutan was fast-tracking the new GNH curriculum development and in two weeks, trainers will begin to prepare for a nation-wide workshop for all of the country’s school principals. This marks the beginning of a three year process of infusing every school classroom and every subject (yes, including math!) with the principles of GNH.

Here are the opening remarks from conference coordinator Dr. Ronald Coleman of GPI, Atlantic:

“It’s very unlikely to be working directly with government. As NGO’s, we always have the feeling of knocking on some distant door. But here, today, we have the Minister of Education, Madame Secretary and His Excellency, the Prime Minister listening intently to this process and creating policy on the spot. We’ve come to the morning of the third day of the conference to a place that we never anticipated. We have an emerging action plan and in January 2010, 541 school principals and representatives of Bhutan’s teacher colleges will gather together for one week in preparation of educating for Gross National Happiness.”

So you might be asking, “what the heck is Gross National Happiness, anyway?” A good question that would result in a thousand answers. Gross National Happiness was mandated in the eighties by the 4th King of Bhutan, His Majesty King Jigme Singye Wangchuck. He proclaimed that “Gross National Happiness is more important than Gross National Product.” The four pillars of GNH are “Environmental Conservation—care for nature and others,” “Cultural Promotion, preserve the wisdom of an ancient culture,” “Sustainable and Equitable Development, economic opportunities for all Bhutanese,” and “Good Governance, good citizenship.” These principles were laid out to guide Bhutan as it entered into a global economy.

Today, as a group of experts and observers, we are exploring how these lovely and lofty principles can be integrated into each subject taught in Bhutanese schools. Discussions have focused on teaching children skills in analytic and critical thinking, inquiry, experiential learning, outdoor education, environmental literacy, mindfulness, volunteerism, alternative assessment tools, and traditional knowledge. We are here to create the framework on which to hang GNH. In other words, as the Pandora’s box of modernization is opened and released in Bhutan, children can better understand which modern influences are sustainable and non-sustainable; which are precious and profane.

In an afternoon break-out group, I had the great fortune to model a school community service program with five high school students. The Bhutanese children attending this conference are remarkable: graceful, articulate, bright and very enthusiastic. One stand-out, Rohit, is surely destined to become the next Prime Minister. He is an amazing driven kid who is smart and unbelievably confident. There is a feeling among many conference participants, that the Bhutanese would have been better off conducting this process without a bunch of over-educated, meddling, know-it-all outsiders! That said, this outsider could not be more delighted with the opportunity of working with these kids who are so wonderful. I have to question why we would ever think of meddling with an education system that produced these bright lights! But, I digress. After the process, Rohit presented our discussion points to the entire conference with such passion and aplomb, that afterward, the Prime Minister remarked, “so, I hear you are after my job!”

This evening, I also had the great fortune of meeting Bunker Roy, an elegant man from Rajasthan, India, who started the Barefoot College. He trains women from all over the world to install solar systems for homes in poor rural villages. These systems provide light in areas without electricity through the use of solar lamps. He is an inspiration! Bunker has also created a children’s parliamentary system in rural India schools where children study democracy and vote for peer representatives between the ages of 6-14. These “ministers” govern areas that include several schools, many of which convene in the late afternoons after the children have finished their chores. The children study long after dark, and then step into their roles as ministers. They take their jobs very seriously.

“So you see,” explained Bunker, “she may tend her goats in the morning, but at night she is the prime minister. In addition to her family responsibilities, she has much to do. She must visit all the schools in her area. If a light burns out, she writes me a postcard and we come to fix it. If a teacher is using corporal punishment, I am alerted and he is fired. If a student is failing to come to school, the ministers let me know, and we handle that too”

Bunker’s parliamentary program caught the attention of the queen of Sweden, who visited Bunker in rural Rajasthan. When the Queen met the then 12 year old “prime minister,” Her Royal Highness remarked that the young girl seemed very confident and poised. The girl turned to Bunker and said, “you can tell her that is because I am the prime minister.”

Quotes from today:

“Bhutan is a multi-cultural, multi-religious country. We are looking for shared cultural values, not in imposing of one faith.”

“Education is a dangerous thing. It isn’t the uneducated causing problems in the world. It’s the educated. It’s not the poor, it’s the wealthy. It’s not the scientifically illiterate. It’s the scientifically literate.

“Bhutan needs to create an immune system to combat the dangerous aspects of modernization.”

“The biggest danger in the world today are disenfranchised teenage boys.”

More coming in a couple days!

Regards,
Betsy

Educating for Gross National Happiness: A Fabulous Endeavor

2009-12-10T13:15:00.000-08:00

I’m attending a conference in Thimpu, Bhutan entitled “Educating for Gross National Happiness (GNH).” TTF is in fact a sponsor, as we are very interested in the science and environmental literacy component. This opportunity was made possible by a generous gift from the Avis family. Attending the conference are education experts from all over the world including some real stars: Dr. David Orr, the Paul Sears Distinguished Professor of Environmental Studies and Politics at Oberlin College and Vindana Shiva, recipient of the Right Livelihood Award (known as the 'Alternative Nobel Prize) for placing women and ecology at the heart of modern development discourse.

The task is enormous, but if Bhutan can begin to cobble together a real framework and viable road map, then educating with the principles of GNH could help shift the priorities of this westernizing country and offer this model to the world. By teaching children the principle that unless every living being in your community, ecosystem, country, continent, world, is “happy,” then we all are responsible in making it so. GNH is really revolutionary and really beautiful, BUT IS IT POSSIBLE?

Monday:
Before the conference gets rolling tomorrow, I spent the day with Lam Dorji and the Royal Society for the Protection of Nature (RSPN) staff. We are creating a 5 year project plan for Bhutan, starting with the Phobjikha Valley (winter nesting grounds for the amazing black-necked crane) and setting up a beta model for monastery nature club programs throughout the country. I’m headed to the project site next week to meet with monks and the Phobjikha Valley project coordinator for the RSPN. The Nature Clubs are the first step for the monastery schools—but Lam is also interested in forming seminars on wildlife-human conflicts (with tigers, leopards and elephants) in areas of rich biodiversity, engaging farmers in water quality testing, and even training locals in traditional dances for nature festivals and eco-tourism. We are all interested in setting up a small grants program for monks working on conservation efforts, a program that we have established already in Mongolia. Now we only need to raise funds! The RSPN has offered to set up eco-trips for donors—I can bring folks to Bhutan in 2010. Any interest?

Tuesday:
Drinking a Bhutanese beer because red wine is $40 a bottle here, so I’m sticking with beer. I’m no conference type, but its so interesting to hear people from all over the world grapple with Gross National Happiness. Parts of the conference are more productive that others. Oh, did I mention chatting up the Prime Minister about Montana, fire ecology and Yellowstone? He was very interested in the Yellowstone fires and said that fires are often started by monkeys rolling stones down hillsides—resultant sparks start fires!

The best thing about being here is reconnecting with all these folks I met in April. One gal, Kim McCormick, an education expert working with the Bhutan Foundation, is very aware of the Teton Science School (TSS) program—she’s working on education reform in Thimpu. TSS is where we trained Mongolian monks last spring and they also are very involved in training Bhutanese teachers. They have an amazing program and facility in Jackson. Hopefully Sue and I can go to Jackson in January to help TSS train a group of Bhutanese teachers. We’d also love to meet with our Jackson supporters and friends!

Few choice quotes from first day of conference:

“We are shifting from a culture of carelessness to a culture of care. We are shifting from a culture of consumerism to a culture of creation. We are shifting from a culture of alienation to a culture of interconnectedness. We are shifting from a culture of appropriation to a culture of sharing. We are shifting from a culture of waste to a culture of conservation...”

“Education is not for getting a job, but for creating jobs.”

“If you have too much pride, you cause global warming. If you have too much greed, you cause drought. If you have too much ignorance, you cause earthquakes.”

“If I want peace, I must get rid of ‘I want.’”

Wednesday:
Sitting in the lobby of my hotel after an enormous vegetarian lunch with lots of ema daste (hotter than hot chilies with Bhutanese cheese). Folks have broken up into small working groups to begin to craft guidelines and direction for curriculum development on history, science, language and math. This morning’s discussion was combative (for Bhutan at least), though incredibly interesting. Their are pragmatists who want to make sure that the conference is grounded in the realities of global trends and the visionaries who continue to make the case that all things are possible.

I have met extraordinary people for all over the world—three amazing educators from Vermont... The director of India’s Barefoot College, the founders of the Alice Schools, and the founder of the Ladhki based Students Educational and Cultural Movement are all sitting knee to knee with Bhutanese ministers, chancellors, principals, and teachers to make headway on the seemingly impossible task of preserving their culture from the maw of modernization.

Few choice quotes from ongoing conflicts between the practical and the visionary conference participants—all wonderful points!:

“What we have today is Faustian science and Faustian technology—what we are missing is Faustian music.”

“We need to sharpen brains, but also character. I feel a good system combines the efficiency of the head with the warmth of the heart.”

“The importance of education or democracy is crucial. Its fine to talk about head and heart, but we need to prepare children to make choices on politics, on economics and society. We are are really thinking about urban society and making rural society an afterthought. This is a very serious discrepancy. How do we educate for equality in an extraordinarily unequal this society? How do you educate for volunteerism? How do we get kids or adults out at time in national crisis? How do we educate about corruption? How do we educate that corruption is not acceptable? It may be a spiritual corruption, but its also material. We need to advocate for a civil society. All the prayers in the monastery will not erase corruption. We need to educate for creating jobs. No matter how well the kids are educated, without jobs, it doesn’t matter how spiritual and educated the kids may be, they will be a discontented society. Its fine to talk about people staying in the village—their is a romanticism about villages. We need to make the best schools in the village so that people stay in the village and not Thimpu. “

“How many hours do children walk to get to school—1, 2, 3 hours? They are exhausted. The same with teachers—imagine a teacher walking 3 hours to get to to school. How can a teacher teach?”

“The whole idea of education is that things are possible.”

“I hope no one leaves this conference thinking that GNH is a substitute for GNP. GNH is a way of thinking about GNP. We need revenue to do all the things we need to do for educational reform reform. “

“I think that the world world should be embedded with GNH. The world is filled with seeds, they are all capable of growing apple trees and other fruit trees. Now they are dormant. But these seeds are capable of growing these fruits. Everyone is embedded with these seeds.”

That’s it for now...
Say tuned for conference outcomes, the considerations involved with combining theological principles with academic study, AND quotes, anecdotes and tales from the last Kingdom of the Himalaya!

Best,
Betsy

Betsy Gaines Quammen, TTF Executive Director

Grace Reflects: Old Mongolia, New Mongolia

2009-08-04T21:39:00.000-07:00

Well, I have been home from Mongolia for a while now and I think I can accurately reflect on my experiences there as well as the work I was able to help with. But first, I’ll wrap the details of the end of our trip.

We got back to UB safe and sound and had an extra day to organize what we achieved in the field. I got some last minute souvenirs (I really went to town with the felt and wool products) and walked all over UB and Sue met with Chimga to finalize details. UB was still as hot, dusty and dry as ever, but I started to feel some affinity for the place and all it’s contrasting parts. It’s a big dirty city that I can say I like. That evening, Sue and I again had dinner at the nice Indian place, and again welcomed the ambiance that came when the power cut out. The next morning, I got packed and started on my long journey home. Complications of my travels included trouble with officials in the Beijing airport, 1.5 hour delay in take off from Beijing, and a 1 hour delay in customs once in San Francisco because I forgot to declare the orange in my backpack (a dog sniffed me out). To top it all off, I ended up having to stay an extra day in San Francisco because I forgot I crossed the international date line while coming home(meaning I went back a day), and had consequently booked my final connecting flight to Bozeman for the next day. However, I did FINALLY make it back to Bozeman and was able to reflect on my trip when immediately confronted with questions from everyone about how Mongolia was.

It was interesting to hear what people’s expectations of Mongolia were and how they contrasted with the stories I told them. The name conjures a romantic image for many people, associated with ideas of traditional nomadic life, legends of Ghengis Khan and Buddhist traditions. I think Mongolia in that sense does exist, but there is a new Mongolia struggling to emerge as well. The Mongolia that is adjusting to new business, development, urbanization, fueled by a generation of people with a more international view of life, is easily seen in the capital. The key for this new Mongolia will be how to maintain and preserve the other Mongolia.

I see the Tributary Fund’s work as a suggested synthesis of these two Mongolias, possibly offering a way to achieve the best of both worlds. The Tributary Fund works to promote science and conservation, new ideas to many Mongolians, through very old, traditional means – Buddhism. It’s effective because Buddhism is so ingrained in Mongolian culture that a harmonious relationship with nature is not a new idea for the people, although a scientific approach may be. I feel that for Mongolia to move into the future as it wants to, it must somehow connect the two worlds that thrive there, and I feel that the work of The Tributary Fund, and groups like it, is essential to the transition.

I’m lucky to have had the opportunity to be a part of such exciting, important work in such a distant part of the world. It was a great experience and I hope to continue being involved with the Tributary Fund in some capacity. I want to thank Betsy and Claire and Chimga and everyone else at The Tributary Fund who made it possible for me to go and feel like I was actually contributing something worthwhile. Thanks to everyone in Mongolia who works with the Tributary Fund. And especially a huge thank you to Sue, who took me everywhere, made me feel important and included, and showed me a great time and a wonderful adventure. Oh! And thanks to anyone who read these updates!

Cheers
Grace

Photo: Kids at the TTF EcoCamp wait for a ride across the river. Flooding made camp very difficult to access but once the kids got there, they had a great experience learning about water quality and the local eco-system, and of course, building friendships around a campfire. Our preparations paid off!

Final report from rural Mongolia: stupas, ovos and more cheese curds

2009-06-22T13:34:00.000-07:00

Field report May 31-June 2:

We headed out again today with Chimga to finalize plans regarding gers and food, and check out the Dayan Derkh monastery. It was pretty dry and hot again. In the evening it got so smokey from a forest fire that nobody was quite sure of the location of. It felt just like August in Bozeman!

We had much more success and were able to get everything pinned down after spending a few hours visiting homes. Some people we revisited would just end up chatting for a while with Chimga and our driver and his co-pilot. Again, I had no idea what was going on, but it was fun to listen while eating my cheese curds and drinking my tea. I had the opportunity to use one of the toilets that are typical of rural Mongolia and that was an interesting experience. It was a fenced hole in the ground (the fence for privacy) with 2 planks of wood on either side for your feet. The system required squatting and rarely comes with toilet paper. It made me think Kent has a real market with his composting toilets, as almost anything would be better than the status quo.

The monastery was our next stop and Sue had the chance to meet with a man that oversaw the actual construction and with Bimba, the caretaker. While they discussed details of the monastery’s construction, I explored the area and hung out with Bimba’s kids. They were fascinated with my camera and kept talking to me in Mongolian. I think we were playing a game of jumping off the steps, but every time I tried to tell them I couldn’t understand what they were saying, they would just laugh. So I looked up how to say “I don’t speak Mongolian” in Mongolian, but by the time I had figured out how to pronounce all the sounds, Sue was finished with her meeting and the kids were heading home. It was pretty fun to play around with them anyway, and we got some great pictures.

The monastery itself is a beautiful wood building with blue and red trim and adorned with gold figures on the shiny metal roof. It’s right near the bank of the Uur River. In fact, clients at the Sweetwater Travel fishing camp (where Sue and I stayed) often visit the monastery from their boats at some point in their week stay. In the yard surrounding it there were a few trees covered in the blue scarves (some yellow and red ones to). Some trees are dead, but superstitions prevent the people from cutting them down. Next to the Monastery, there is a gated area that has some prayer wheels and a white stupa. Up on the hill above the monastery is a shaman ovo, this particular one only for men (I was informed after I said I was going to hike up to it). Its very common to see these wooded structures drapped in scarves on the tops of mountains. Locals will walk around it 3 times and throw a little offering to it for luck. The ovo’s proximity marks an interesting combination of Buddhist and shaman beliefs that define Mongolia’s culture.

After Sue’s meeting, we went back to fishing camp. It was still super hot so we took a quick dip in the river with some other camp members, which was freezing, and then had another great dinner. That night we got a beautiful performance from some local traditional Mongolian singing and dancing. Most traditional Mongolian songs are about the mother or father, I learned, but we also heard some about winning competitions and nature.

The next day we packed up and headed back to Moron, this time picking up a few other people who needed rides to various places too, so we were nice and tight with 7 people in the jeep for 5 hours. Now we’re back at the hotel in Moron and fly back to UB tomorrow! I enjoyed being out in rural Mongolia much more than I enjoy UB, so I’m a bit sad to leave, but glad we accomplished what we set out to do here. Hopefully everything else falls into place and The Tributary Fund has another great summer eco-camp for the kids here.

That’s all for now.

Grace

How to rent a ger from a rural Mongolian family and more adventures

2009-06-22T12:11:00.000-07:00

Field report from May 30:

What a day! Our mission in coming to the countryside was fairly complex, so we have a lot to do in just a few days. We needed to check up on the Dayan Derkh Monastery that the Tributary Fund rebuilt, find gers for the childrens summer eco-camp, and find food suppliers for the summer camp. And what I learned from today, is that you ought not expect quick results when working in the rural Mongolia, where most everyone is far apart, daily life is a struggle, and the pace is a little slower than in the city.

First we headed out early to visit various homes of rural families to find out if anyone had an extra ger they would be willing to rent to The Tributary Fund as housing for the children in the summer camp. It was really neat to go into homes and sit and listen to Chimga conduct business. Sue and I of course, had no idea what was going on until Chimga filled us in, but we would just sit and listen and soak it all in. Each home would give us a nice hot cup of milk tea (which reminded me of cream of wheat, but liquid form) and pass a bowl of cheese curds and sometimes bread around. Occasionally we would receive fresh yogurt instead. It became apparent that dairy products are a key part of the diet. The houses are mostly one room log cabins, as folks are in their summer pastures now. Some families still use gers when they move to their winter pastures, but many are starting to build permanent structures for winter as well. The walls were lined with beautiful carpets and materials and at the center of the room there was always an old wood stove. Also, interestingly, almost every home we visited had a t.v. While it was fun to just experience the life of these people, we had to find some gers, and we encountered some difficulty. Often, people had them, but the stove pipe was being borrowed by the neighbor down the way, or someone else was using it, or something was broken. We got told a few times to come back in a few days and check, which was funny, because we don’t really have more than 3 days here.

Finding someone to supply dairy was difficult as well. The local community can potentially benefit from selling some of their dairy products to the Tributary Fund during the summer camp for food for the kids. That would be ideal. Unfortunately, many families felt they couldn’t spare the little dairy they were getting by with as it was. Hopefully tomorrow will yield more favorably results regarding that as well.

After our home visits, we set out to the Dayan Derkh Monastery so Sue could check out how it’s been maintained and talk with the caretaker, Bimba. We arrived and found that Bimba’s son had gotten ill and he and his wife had taken him by motorcycle to the nearest town (about 2 hrs away) to see a doctor. We stayed at the monastery for a while, eating lunch (even though I was stuffed from so much milk tea and yogurt and cheese curds already) and letting Sue have a look around. Consequently, Bimba happened to comeback just as we were leaving, and thankfully his son seemed to be okay. We decided, in light of the stressful circumstances, to come back tomorrow to have Bimba give us tour.

So then we went back to fishing camp (by driving across the river in the jeep, and stalling, and almost floating down the river) and had dinner with the guys at camp. It was delicious food and talking to all the clients were interesting too. Plus, I got some good quality rock-skippin’ time down on the river after dinner.

We’ll head out again tomorrow and hope to finalize some deals on gers and dairy!

Cheers

Grace

Catching up: a couple weeks ago in Mongolia continued...

2009-06-16T22:15:00.000-07:00

Field notes from May 28-29:

Yesterday we left UB for the wild Mongolian countryside. Sue, Chimga and I caught a flight from UB to Moron. It was about an hour late, but we eventually got to Moron and got some food supplies from the black market. Moron is a good sized, dusty, dry town that happens to be the closest one to fishing camp with an airport. It is also Chimga’s home town!

We decided to stay the night in Moron and embark on our 7 hour jeep ride to the remote fishing camp on the Uur river early this morning. This turned out to be an excellent idea, as our driver had to stop multiple times and check various parts of the car, including the brakes, on the drive out. Roads are defined in rural Mongolia as a place where someone drove their jeep before you, so the ride was pretty rough. But the scenery was beautiful. It reminded me so much of Montana that I sometimes had to consciously remind myself of where I was!

When we finally got to camp, Sue and I, and some others from camp, hiked up to the top of a nice hill behind our gers (circular canvas homes unique to Mongolian nomads) and got an amazing view of the whole valley and river. It was a nice way to end the slightly stressful and tiring expedition to get to into the field. The ger is incredibly comfortable and warm and I’m looking forward to a great night sleep, because tomorrow we get to work!

Best,
Grace

Going around with Nomin...uncovering conservation and compassion in UB

2009-05-29T12:41:00.000-07:00

Today was Awesome. Fantastic. I learned so much about Mongolia, from the average price of a meter of silk at the black market to the Buddhism’s relationship with the environment. So, let me share some of my newfound knowledge with you all.

I was given the opportunity to do some interesting work for The Tributary Fund today around UB with the help of a very nice girl my age named Nomin, who was my translator. The Fund was interested in trying to put together some projects for the women they work with in rural areas to supplement their income. So maybe a craft or something local that would appeal to tourists. Consequently, I was sent off to investigate prices of potential materials at the black market. I thought the black market was going to be really dangerous and exciting, in some secret location that only Mongolians knew because it was so complicated to get to. Turns out it was actually just an open market a relatively short walk from our hotel that sold lots of cheap stuff from China. Kind of similar to Wal-Mart in that sense. It did, however, have an amazing variety of fabrics, which tend to go for between 3,000-5,000 tugriks per meter, in case you were curious.

After completing my fabric research (which was to supplement that which Chimga had already done), Nomin and I set off for the university. This was so interesting. I got to interview about 12 biology students about their views on conservation in Mongolia currently and in the future. All of the students were pursuing a career in conservation and many had done internships with foreign NGO’s concerning their particular area of study. The overall feeling was that respect for nature is something deeply ingrained in Mongolia’s culture, but like any developing country that’s experiencing rapid urbanization, it struggles to implement environmentally friendly practices. In addition, the students expressed that most people in the city were struggling with more immediate threats to survival, like providing for themselves and their families, and, as a result, environmental concerns weren’t their top priority. Most students felt the biggest way to improve environmental awareness was through education from a young age. They said that being students of ecology and biology, they were far more knowledgeable on the importance of conservation and environmental protection than the average Mongolian. Most Mongolians know the importance of respect for the environment through the lens of Buddhism, but few have any scientific knowledge to combine it with. They felt that approaching environmental awareness through Buddhism was a great idea because they agreed spiritual reasons would be more compelling for people, especially those in rural areas, to change their current practices. Plus, they thought it was important to teach people about conservation within the context of their own culture.

My interview with the students was even more illuminating when coupled with the information I gained later in the day when I interviewed a monk at the Gandan Monastery. I asked him similar questions that I had asked the students, except with an emphasis on Buddhism. He explained to me that Buddhism’s close relationship with nature comes from its emphasis on compassion. Because Buddhism promotes compassion toward all living things (not only animals and humans, but anything with a spirit), respect for nature is inherent in the religion. He also explained that Buddhism is so old in Mongolia that all Mongolians have some Buddhist ideals, because it is so much a part of their culture and heritage. For these reasons, he thought teaching conservation through Buddhism was very logical and important. He said the Buddhist leaders command a lot of respect and authority in Mongolia as do their teachings. When I asked why, in light of all this reverence and respect for the environment, environmental issues were not being addressed, the monk made an interesting point. He said that when Mongolia was totally nomadic, the people were entirely dependant on their environment and interacted with nature on a day to day basis. So it was easy for them to live in harmony with nature and understand it’s direct impact on their lives. However, now those living in UB rarely interact with nature and consequently don’t think about it’s role in their day to day lives. The monk believed this was a major reason behind the lack of concern for environmental issues. A disconnect between people and the environment.

This is an issue that we face in the United States as well. It was interesting to learn about Mongolia’s view of conservation, not only for its being useful information for The Tributary Fund, but also to compare it to that of folks in the U.S. There are many similarities that I would guess could be said of people most anywhere in the world. One clear difference however, was the potential role of Buddhism as an effective way to connect Mongolia’s culture and history to conservation today.

After my day on the town, Sue and I were invited to a lovely dinner at Salsa’s house. We got to eat with his family aand discuss some of his upcoming projects for the Gandan to become more “green.” I got to have my first cup of milk tea! It was very cool to be a part of. I feel very fortunate and I’m very grateful to Salsa to have been included and Sue for letting me tag along. Thanks guys, it was great!! Oh, and if Salsa reads this, I’ll also thank him for the gift of beautiful cashmere gloves as well.

It was a wonderful end to an awesome day in UB! We’ll be heading to the countryside soon, so I wont be able to update until I get back. I keep a good journal though, and post some new adventures as soon as I get back.

Cheers!
Grace

Jetlag, a monk named Harry Potter and composting toilets in UB

2009-05-27T08:33:00.000-07:00

I’m in Mongolia!

Alright so jetlag is tough, let me tell ya. The day I got in, I was thankfully left to sleep for much of the day. That night, Sue took me to a nice Indian place and at some point the electricity cut out for a while, so it was a nice romantic meal. Over all, UB (what everyone calls Ulaanbaatar), is a big, busy city, very similar to other big, busy cities in other developing countries. It’s notably dusty and windy at this time of year, and also quite warm. The interesting thing is the contrast between old soviet buildings that have fallen into disrepair, which characterize most of the city, and the rare beautiful old Buddhist or Chinese buildings, also in disrepair, but far from just slabs of concrete. Much of the Buddhist temples (almost all) were destroyed under communist control, but some have been rebuilt. The Gandan Monastery, the major Buddhist center of Mongolia, is located in the capital. It’s a beautiful walled-in area of temples, for worship and study, always busy with monks and pigeons. Again, it’s an interesting example of the contrast between old Mongolia and the new Mongolia, as it’s surrounded by dusty dirt alleys and the crowded run-down neighborhoods of emigrants from the countryside.

The next day, Saturday, was great! I got to do all sorts of interesting stuff. Sue and I walked to the Gandan for a meeting with some Buddhist leaders who had recently participated in the Tributary Fund’s environmental education exchange tot he US. We met with Byambaa, Salsa, Harry Potter, Erdenebat, and of course, Chimga. You may be skeptical that I actually met with monks named Harry Potter and Salsa, and I’ll admit, they do have real names, but these were the names Sue used to introduce them to me—names they earned in the US. I think it has something to do with the fact that we ignorant English speakers have some trouble with Mongolian pronunciations and it got to be quite embarrassing, so, being compassionate and affable monks, they agreed to go by nicknames.

After the meeting, Sue and I were extremely fortunate and received a special tour of the Gandan from Amaraa (Harry Potter). It was very cool and we got special access to places because of who we were with. It was like having a backstage VIP pass at some big concert. So thank you, Harry!

After the Gandan we walked to another meeting with Kent and Katrina from the Boojum Expeditions and Eco-San about the future of composting toilets in Mongolia, specifically the countryside. It turned out to be a fascinating meeting and it looks like composting toilets could save the world. They make a lot of sense for Mongolia, as water isn’t exactly plentiful and waste management in the countryside is somewhat lacking. However, the cold temperatures in the winter pose some issues for the feasibility of the toilets. So that is an issue they are working on. The key to these particular toilets is that they separate the solid and liquid waste right from the start, which addresses many health concerns and other potential problems with the toilets. It allows for the waste to be reused in some great ways and makes the actual toilets less stinky. It was really exciting to be a part of such a potentially beneficial and important project.

The next day Sue and I, along with Kent, Katrina, and Harry, got to go see a site where the Gandan is thinking about putting a demonstration toilet. The potential to have one at the Gandan was a huge step, as it would be the ideal location from which to promote the toilets. The acceptance of the concept of the toilet is very important to its future in Mongolia and there was a surprising level of detailed planning and thought behind everything toilet related, from it’s color, to the signs that indicate where it is in the Gandan.

All in all, it was a very interesting, exciting first few days in Mongolia! I’m looking forward to the work of the next few days, as they it’s sure to be equally as intriguing. I’ll post more soon!

Grace

Intro to me

2009-05-25T20:55:00.000-07:00

Hello everyone. My name is Grace Phillips. I’ll just start with explaining who I am and why I’m in Mongolia, tagging along with Sue!

So, I am from Bozeman and I am going to be starting my studies at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. I graduated from Bozeman High School last spring but was given the opportunity to take a year off before starting at Carolina with significant funding from the university. The catch was, I had to go travel the world and do things to explore my interests and passions and bring my knowledge with me when I start there in the fall. Well THAT was clearly not going to be a tough requirement to fill, so I set out on this year with an outline of worthwhile stuff to do, including coming to Mongolia with The Tributary Fund to be of any assistance that I can!

My year up until now has consisted of a few parts. I took a semester long Wilderness EMT course at University of Montana in Missoula for the fall and got certified in January. Then I spent a few months at home, helping out with my new baby sister (now almost 6 months old). In March I spent a month down in Guatemala doing volunteer work with severely handicapped children. I came home for 4 days and then set off to visit family in San Francisco for a bit. Late April I headed to Europe, without much of a plan except to visit some friends studying abroad in Brussels and Ireland and some family in London. Finally, I flew from Frankfurt to Ulaanbaatar on May 22nd!

Phewf, so I’m here finally. My purpose in coming is multi-dimensional. First, I know the work of The Tributary fund and am very excited about what they do. When I initially talked to Betsy and Sue about coming along, I imagined doing whatever they needed help with and learning as much as I could, not only about their work and the culture here, but about the struggles of being socially and environmentally responsible and trying to put your ideals into practice. It was a unique opportunity for them as well, as I was a flexible volunteer that could pay my own way. I am also very interested in Asian culture and the Buddhism that is practiced here in Mongolia. Additionally, since having decided to come to Mongolia, I have been accepted to live in Sustainability Housing at UNC. Basically, it’s themed housing that works to make UNC campus more green and provides its participants with lots of education and work in sustainability and environmental awareness. This just so happens to tie in PERFECTLY with some work Sue has been doing concerning composting toilets (I’ll get into the details in the next blog). I’m thinking it could be really cool to take some of the things I learn about composting toilets and start work with that idea at Carolina through my sustainable living situation. I’m not entirely sure HOW yet, but I’m confident I’ll think of something. This really is a unique opportunity for me.

Besides that, I like to play soccer and the violin/fiddle. I brought a harmonica on my travels to attempt to learn, but turns out I’m really awful at that. In the winter I snowboard and try to telemark. I love to read (problematic as my pack has been quite overweight at airports) and just be outside in general, fly fishing, camping, etc. I’m 19 and my middle name is Stevens. When I do attend school (eventually), I’m interested in trying to combine Environmental Studies, Social Anthropology and International Relations with a focus on Peace and Conflict Resolution into some sort of super-major. Or two. I don’t really know yet. But that could easily change between now and then. Overall, I’m just very excited to be in Mongolia!

More soon,
Grace

Leavin' on a jetplane...to Mongolia

2009-05-18T13:09:00.000-07:00

The Tributary Fund's Director of Programming, Sue Higgins, is headed for her semiannual trip to Mongolia this Wednesday. This time she will be accompanied by Grace Phillips, a recipient of a five-year leadership fellowship from the University of North Carolina. Grace, a Bozeman native, is traveling around the world before heading to her freshman year of college. TTF is fortunate to have her as an intern for several weeks of her adventure. While in Mongolia, she will be assisting Sue with project updates and kicking off TTF's blog with her daily impressions (at least while she has internet access).

Thanks Gracie and Sue! Safe travels!