โฆ๐จ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ช๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ป๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐ท๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ฎ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ป๐๐๐ ๐จ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐จ๐๐-๐ถ๐๐ ๐ท๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐
By Kezang Choden
The Drepong Gewog, a community steeped in history and tradition, is facing a cultural crisis that threatens the very essence of its identity. For over three centuries, the Drepong Tshechu has been the heart and soul of this community, celebrated annually at Woop Lhakhang in Woop Chiwog under Mongar Dzongkhag.
This vibrant festival, held on the 14th, 15th, and 16th of December according to the Bhutanese calendar, is renowned for its sacred mask dances known as cham to the local residents. These dances, rich in spiritual and cultural significance, have been passed down through generations. Yet today, the future of this cherished tradition is in jeopardy as the younger generation shows little interest in preserving it.
The Drepong Tshechu, once a vibrant and eagerly anticipated event, has seen a decline in both participation and attendance. Traditionally, the festival drew large crowds from across the Dzongkhag, with people traveling great distances to witness the performances. The preparations for the Tshechu were elaborate, requiring nearly a month of practice to perfect the intricate and spiritually charged dances. These preparations were not merely logistical; they were a communal effort that fostered unity and reinforced cultural identity.
Today, however, the scene is visibly different. The crowds have dwindled, and the number of participants has sharply decreased. The performers who do take part are primarily older men, many of whom have been involved in the festival for decades. The absence of youth involvement has raised alarm among community leaders and cultural preservationists, who fear that the Drepong Tshechu could face a steep decline if this trend continues.
Dechen Wangmo, the Tshogpa of Drepong Chiwog, expressed deep concerns about the waning interest among the youth in the annual Tshechu. Despite Drepong Chiwog comprising 80 households, only 66 actively contribute to the three-day event, a number that reflects the growing disengagement of the community.
“In the past, people would walk great distances to witness the mask dances and other performances during Tshechu,” Wangmo recalled. “However, today’s youth seem less interested because there are no tangible rewards for their participation.”
Wangmo attributed the decline in youth involvement to the pressures of balancing work and studies, as well as the increasing trend of young people leaving the Gewog in search of employment opportunities elsewhere. “Preparing for the Tshechu requires months of practice, which can be a major distraction from their work and studies,” she explained. “And with many young people migrating out of the Gewog, their connection to these traditions is weakening.”
The impact of this cultural shift is deeply felt by the elder members of the community. Singye, a 68-year-old resident of Drepong Chiwog, has been a devoted participant in the mask dances for over 50 years. As one of the oldest performers, Singye has witnessed firsthand the gradual erosion of interest in this ancient art form. “Unlike us, the youth today lack interest in learning these mask dances,” he lamented. “These dances are more than just a spectacle; they are a vital link to our history and our connection to the divine.”
Singye’s concern is not only for the present but for the future. “Without the youth, how long can we continue?” he questioned, highlighting the pressing need for younger generations to step up and preserve this cultural heritage. The mask dances, he emphasized, are not just performances; they are sacred rituals that embody the spiritual essence of the community.
Lhatu, a 42-year-old resident of Drepong Chiwog, shares similar concerns. Having started performing mask dances at the age of 20, Lhatu has now risen to the role of Champoen, or leader, of these traditional dances. This position comes with significant responsibilities, including organizing events and leading the performers in practice sessions. As the Champoen, Lhatu is acutely aware of the challenges facing the Drepong Tshechu.
“I’m afraid of who will take over this big responsibility and preserve our mask dances as they are,” Lhatu said. His fears are well-founded, as the younger generation shows an increasing tendency to leave the region in pursuit of better job opportunities and further education. “The Tshechu used to be a time when the entire community came together to celebrate our traditions,” Lhatu reflected. “But now, it feels like our cultural practices are at risk of fading away.”
The Drepong Tshechu is not just a cultural event; it is a spiritual one, believed to bring blessings to the community and drive away evil spirits. The mask dances, in particular, are seen as sacred rituals that must be preserved for future generations. The decline in youth participation in these rituals raises concerns not only about the survival of the festival but also about the spiritual well-being of the community.
Wangmo and other community leaders are exploring ways to re-engage the youth and ensure the continuation of the Tshechu. “We need to find ways to make these traditions relevant to the younger generation,” Wangmo said. “Perhaps through integrating these practices into educational programs or offering incentives for participation, we can spark their interest.”
However, the challenges are significant. The allure of modernization and the pursuit of economic opportunities outside the Gewog are strong, pulling young people away from their roots. The question remains whether these cultural practices can adapt to the changing times while retaining their core essence.
Lhatu believes that the solution lies in fostering a sense of pride and responsibility among the youth for their cultural heritage. “We need to teach them that these traditions are not just our past, but they are also our identity,” he said. “If we lose them, we lose a part of ourselves.”
The future of the Drepong Tshechu hangs in the balance, dependent on the willingness of the younger generation to embrace their cultural heritage. As the elder performers age and step down, the responsibility of preserving these sacred dances will inevitably fall to the youth. Whether they will rise to the occasion or allow the tradition to fade into obscurity remains to be seen.
In the meantime, the community of Drepong Gewog continues to hold onto its traditions, with the hope that the upcoming Tshechu will inspire a renewed interest in the mask dances. As the festival approaches, there is a palpable sense of urgency in the air, a recognition that time is running out to save this cultural treasure from being lost forever.
The Drepong Tshechu, with its sacred mask dances, stands as a testament to Bhutan’s rich cultural heritage. Yet, like many traditions around the world, it is vulnerable to the forces of change. The coming years will be critical in determining whether this ancient festival will endure or whether it will become a relic of the past, remembered only in the stories of the elders who once danced to its sacred rhythms.