Chapter 1: Learning to Know, in Bhutan

Most of us, unless we are actually educationalists, do not normally stop to think about exactly how we learn—we simply take it for granted. It is a rare privilege to be put in a position where we can contrast two very different styles of education, and compare their results. Bhutan has a long tradition of monastic education in the Buddhist tradition, consisting of memorising large sections of religious books, remembering formulae of cause and ef-fect, and being able to argue complex issues of philosophy in formal, highly stylised debates. Even the books may seem exotic to the eyes of outsiders, written from right to left in the artistic printing of the classical Choekey lan-guage, each long, rectangular page sandwiched between two carved wooden covers and wrapped respectfully in colourful silk. The other art forms that accompany Buddhist religious observance, such as the painting of thankas (wall-hangings) wall murals, and sculpture, are also highly stylised. Indeed, in Buddhist art, there is little room for individual creativity, and an artists’ work is measured by how well they can replicate the original blueprint in all its aspects. Works of art, such as paintings, are very rarely signed as in the western tradition, for to do so would be a mark of the artist succumbing to an exhibition of their own ego—never a good sign in the Buddhist tradition. The college of traditional medicine in the Royal University of Bhutan is one of the very few areas of the curriculum not taught in English, due to the reliance on the traditional teaching resources in Dzongkha and Choe-key. Even here, however, there are signs of the encroaching outer world as staff research projects attempt to match traditional herbs and plants with their scientific Latin names, and, more importantly, try to isolate the active ingredients their plants contribute towards traditional medication.