Kindness of Strangers

For the past few months I’ve read almost nothing except guidebooks, which is really, really boring.  Salvation came in the form of a USPS package, an early birthday present from my friend, Heidi.  She sent me a book called The Geography of Bliss:  One Grump’s Search for the Happiest Places in the World, by Eric Weiner.  The author examines happiness cross-culturally and asks, “How does the concept of happiness vary from place to place?”  He profiles a number of countries who rank high on most happiness scales, one of which is Bhutan.

Before reading this book, I couldn’t have located Bhutan on a map (it neighbors Nepal), nevertheless told you a single thing about it.  It’s not too surprising why:  Bhutan’s sheer geography, perched high in the Himalayas, has kept it segregated from much of the world for centuries.  According to Weiner, it was the last country in the world to receive television (in 1999), and there was nary a road, school, or hospital until 1962.  It is also the world’s first nonsmoking nation, and has the only capital city without a traffic light.  And you must really want to go to get there.  In order to curb the rampant tourism that has affected its neighbor, Nepal, a visit to Bhutan requires a payment of $200 per day to hire a Bhutanese guide. 

Bhutan has been catapulted into the international spotlight through its Gross National Happiness policy, which, according to my friend, Nissane, was highlighted in this month’s National Geographic.  It is an antidote to Gross National Product, which calculates a country’s worth based on what it produces in economic terms.  “In a nutshell, Gross National Happiness seeks to measure a nation’s progress not by its balance sheet but rather by the happiness — or unhappiness — of its people” (Weiner, p. 56).  Eric Weiner, in his drive through Bhutan’s countryside, sees a sign that sums up this philosophy:

When the last tree is cut,
When the last river is emptied,
When the last fish is caught,
Only then will man realize that he cannot eat money.

Sometimes a place captures your imagination, for no apparent reason, and there was something about Bhutan that grabbed me.  It is a culture characterized by paying attention to others, by compromise and cooperation, and by trust; all things I wish I had more of in my life.  This newfound fascination with Bhutan reflects a hope that a visit there would rub off on me in some way, as if by osmosis.  I wonder if that’s why we travel, to gain the things we can’t at home, be it outstanding crepes or a sought-after perspective.  I have often wondered if this trip is a way for me to explore what makes me happy.  It’s a question I often ask myself, but have a difficult time answering.  They say that home is where the heart is, and that we carry our troubles with us.  But I also believe that happiness can be deeply linked with place, and I wonder if I’m not searching for a place that will help me define and reflect my own idea of happiness.  People often ask me, “How did you choose the places you did to visit on your trip?”  Sometimes, the answer is as simple as, “Because I’ve always wanted to go there.”  And sometimes that’s reason enough.