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The view from Sangaygang

14 December 2009

Our reporter METHO DEMA looks down from Sangaygang and observes Thimphu city with a critical eye.

As one takes a stroll down Sangaygang road, the whole Thimphu valley comes into view, and one can’t help noticing the transformation it has undergone. From the sleepy town of the 1980s, it has today become a bustling city – a ‘big apple’ in its own right.
The view from Sangaygang is at once awe-inspiring and thought-provoking. Inspiring, because it is a testimony to Bhutan’s journey so far, and provoking, because it is a standing revelation of the corners that the country has missed out on.
The sprawling ministers’ enclave is an eye-catcher. Comprising 20 bungalows that spread over 31 acres of land, it is being constructed at an estimated cost of Nu 474.71 million. This has raised a few, if not many, eyebrows.
The prime minister’s residence approximately costs Nu 20 million, the 14 bungalows for ministers and others cost about Nu 12 million each while the four bungalows for the constitutional post holders cost Nu 9.5 million each. “Chandeliers, customized kitchens, doors and windows from Malaysia – that’s quite a lot of bucks flying out of the Bhutanese window,” said an observer.
“The government is falling short of budget for the 10th five-year plan, and here we have the ostentatious project which never sees the light of the day, say some people. The enclave was supposed to have been completed by March, 2008, but the deadline was dragged to December, 2008. Later, the deadline was further deferred to October, 2009, but still the enclave awaits completion. Bhutanese projects are “fashionably late” when it comes to completion, an observer remarks.
Next, Changjiji housing complex comes into view. An ardent government critic once said, “Chanjiji housing complex is the epitome of Bhutanese architectural gaffe and of the breakdown of traditional society and cultural values. What is wrong with Changjiji? Architects say, “There is a big difference between the virtual reality and the two dimensional plan,” which in layman’s terms means the age-old inability of Bhutanese to execute any form of written plan or policies.
This reinforces a popular notion among educated Bhutanese that, however good and well-thought-out, Bhutanese plans and policies falter in implementation. This is ‘a condition akin to a toothless tiger,’ as an activist puts it. Lungtenzampa Bridge, which was once considered the gateway to Thimphu city, has been criticized for its structural ugliness. But ask any builder, and he will say, “It wasn’t built for aesthetic purpose.”
But it is not safe either. Bhutan falls either in Seismic Zone IV or V. The threat of a major earthquake is always looming, and the bridge was not designed to withstand such a threat. Of course, the majority of structures in the city are not designed to withstand a major earthquake.
A total of 30 earthquakes have been recorded in Bhutan between the years 1937 and 1998. It took a 6.3 magnitude earthquake, which took 12 lives and millions of worth of properties to shake us out of our complacence. However, retrofitting is an expensive affair, and majority of house owners would rather rebuild than retrofit.
Despite poor planning, failed policies and architectural flaws, Thimphu city is ever growing and expanding. Urban sprawls are developing, posing a challenge to the already over-burdened urban planners.
Only a few years ago, historical Tashichodzong dominated the cityscape. Now, looking down from Sangaygang, Taj Tashi, the 66-roomed five star luxury hotel in the heart of the city, looks more imposing. It is the symbol of economic growth, the power of modernization. Now with the government’s plan to allow 100 percent FDI equity in four and five star hotels, Thimphu will see more of such symbols of material development.
The latest addition to this concrete jungle is the new Nu 917 million, 350-bedded Jigme Dorji Wangchuck National Referral Hospital complex that spreads over an eight acre land. Whoever went inside came back impressed. However, within a month, the 12 lifts in the new hospital complex had to be temporarily shut down because six of them broke down after barely a month in operation. There were reports of blocked toilets, the infamous doma spits and misuse of lifts.
Thimphu is home to 90,000 plus Bhutanese who eat, sleep and defecate every day. With only 20 percent of the municipal area connected to the Babesa sewage treatment plant, which has already reached its capacity, sewage disposal has become a formidable urban challenge. Thimphu may soon have to battle massive sewage that has nowhere to go. Thimphu is one of only two towns in Bhutan connected to a sewage treatment plant.
Amid concrete structures, something is conspicuously missing – green zones, those areas supposed to be put aside as social spaces for gatherings and cultural exchange among the residents. According to the 25-year-old Thimphu structure plan, there are four categories of green zones. But from Sangaygang, one could hardly see any green space. One area designated as an environment enhancement zone has been taken up by the Supreme Court.
The view from Sangaygang is not so much physical as it is mental. The red roofs among green roofs remind one of that long-forgotten mandatory green roof rule. One wonders how the infamous Thimphu-Babesa expressway suddenly bends towards the river near Changzamtog. Is it a case of Bhutanese roads circumambulating influential properties?

View from SangaygangAs one takes a stroll down Sangaygang road, the whole Thimphu valley comes into view, and one can’t help noticing the transformation it has undergone. From the sleepy town of the 1980s, it has today become a bustling city – a ‘big apple’ in its own right.

The view from Sangaygang is at once awe-inspiring and thought-provoking. Inspiring, because it is a testimony to Bhutan’s journey so far, and provoking, because it is a standing revelation of the corners that the country has missed out on.

The sprawling ministers’ enclave is an eye-catcher. Comprising 20 bungalows that spread over 31 acres of land, it is being constructed at an estimated cost of Nu 474.71 million. This has raised a few, if not many, eyebrows.

The prime minister’s residence approximately costs Nu 20 million, the 14 bungalows for ministers and others cost about Nu 12 million each while the four bungalows for the constitutional post holders cost Nu 9.5 million each. “Chandeliers, customized kitchens, doors and windows from Malaysia – that’s quite a lot of bucks flying out of the Bhutanese window,” said an observer.

“The government is falling short of budget for the 10th five-year plan, and here we have the ostentatious project which never sees the light of the day, say some people. The enclave was supposed to have been completed by March, 2008, but the deadline was dragged to December, 2008. Later, the deadline was further deferred to October, 2009, but still the enclave awaits completion. Bhutanese projects are “fashionably late” when it comes to completion, an observer remarks.

Next, Changjiji housing complex comes into view. An ardent government critic once said, “Chanjiji housing complex is the epitome of Bhutanese architectural gaffe and of the breakdown of traditional society and cultural values. What is wrong with Changjiji? Architects say, “There is a big difference between the virtual reality and the two dimensional plan,” which in layman’s terms means the age-old inability of Bhutanese to execute any form of written plan or policies.

This reinforces a popular notion among educated Bhutanese that, however good and well-thought-out, Bhutanese plans and policies falter in implementation. This is ‘a condition akin to a toothless tiger,’ as an activist puts it. Lungtenzampa Bridge, which was once considered the gateway to Thimphu city, has been criticized for its structural ugliness. But ask any builder, and he will say, “It wasn’t built for aesthetic purpose.”

But it is not safe either. Bhutan falls either in Seismic Zone IV or V. The threat of a major earthquake is always looming, and the bridge was not designed to withstand such a threat. Of course, the majority of structures in the city are not designed to withstand a major earthquake.

A total of 30 earthquakes have been recorded in Bhutan between the years 1937 and 1998. It took a 6.3 magnitude earthquake, which took 12 lives and millions of worth of properties to shake us out of our complacence. However, retrofitting is an expensive affair, and majority of house owners would rather rebuild than retrofit.

Despite poor planning, failed policies and architectural flaws, Thimphu city is ever growing and expanding. Urban sprawls are developing, posing a challenge to the already over-burdened urban planners.

Only a few years ago, historical Tashichodzong dominated the cityscape. Now, looking down from Sangaygang, Taj Tashi, the 66-roomed five star luxury hotel in the heart of the city, looks more imposing. It is the symbol of economic growth, the power of modernization. Now with the government’s plan to allow 100 percent FDI equity in four and five star hotels, Thimphu will see more of such symbols of material development.

The latest addition to this concrete jungle is the new Nu 917 million, 350-bedded Jigme Dorji Wangchuck National Referral Hospital complex that spreads over an eight acre land. Whoever went inside came back impressed. However, within a month, the 12 lifts in the new hospital complex had to be temporarily shut down because six of them broke down after barely a month in operation. There were reports of blocked toilets, the infamous doma spits and misuse of lifts.

Thimphu is home to 90,000 plus Bhutanese who eat, sleep and defecate every day. With only 20 percent of the municipal area connected to the Babesa sewage treatment plant, which has already reached its capacity, sewage disposal has become a formidable urban challenge. Thimphu may soon have to battle massive sewage that has nowhere to go. Thimphu is one of only two towns in Bhutan connected to a sewage treatment plant.

Amid concrete structures, something is conspicuously missing – green zones, those areas supposed to be put aside as social spaces for gatherings and cultural exchange among the residents. According to the 25-year-old Thimphu structure plan, there are four categories of green zones. But from Sangaygang, one could hardly see any green space. One area designated as an environment enhancement zone has been taken up by the Supreme Court.

The view from Sangaygang is not so much physical as it is mental. The red roofs among green roofs remind one of that long-forgotten mandatory green roof rule. One wonders how the infamous Thimphu-Babesa expressway suddenly bends towards the river near Changzamtog. Is it a case of Bhutanese roads circumambulating influential properties?

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Comments

2 Responses to “The view from Sangaygang”

  1. kk on December 15th, 2009 9:00 pm

    Wow Ms. Metho Dema. Made a really nice reading especially the “circumambulating” part. You have raised my confidence in Bhutan Observer.

  2. Biplav Karki on December 20th, 2009 2:05 pm

    Bhutan has made progress in physical development. The stable government can easily implement any plans suitable for the country. This is one positive point of Bhutanese Government.

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