Diaspora and Bhutanese Refugee Identity
Everyone is talking about it. They think about it all the time. They talk with who’s done it and who wants to do it.  Resettlement is happening at a dramatic rate and it’s the talk of the camps. Of the nearly 110,000 Bhutanese refugees who originally fled Bhutan in the early 1990s to refugee camps in Southeastern Nepal, over 70,000 have resettled to live in third countries, mostly to the United States. Though they have spread around the world, connections remain between these diaspora populations and those who have been living in the camps for the last two decades.

Diaspora is a term used to describe people with a common origin who have been dispersed from their home country, usually involuntarily, to two or more foreign countries. They share the experience of leaving home and crossing national boundaries, where they come into contact with different kinds of communities. Members of a diaspora population find unity, despite the different locales where they reside, in their shared language, history, culture, and, often, a longing to return to their home country. Through remittances and long-distance communication, they strive to maintain connections with others from their native land, including those who are also living abroad and those who remain back home. They might also try to maintain more symbolic ties with their homeland through language use, clothing choices, and story-telling. However, identity is not simply a matter of reproducing cultural traditions. Individuals, diasporic and otherwise, are continually constructing their identities through choices of whom and what to associate with. Identity shapes and is shaped by specific contexts for the Bhutanese in the refugee camps and in their new environments after they resettle. Twenty years after moving to Nepal and five years after resettlement began, the way Bhutanese refugees today make sense of their lives provides an interesting case study to view how communities change and stay the same as people disperse around the world.

For the Bhutanese refugees living in refugee camps in Southeastern Nepal, memories of Bhutan as a peaceful homeland pervade everyday life, often overshadowing memories of the violence that drove them from their homes. A desire to repatriate to Bhutan conflicts with the reality that this desire is for now unattainable and third-country resettlement remains the only realistic option. The lives of the people remaining in the camps have been suspended for the last twenty years; they can neither settle down permanently in Nepal, nor return to Bhutan, so many people choose instead to resettle.  Ideas and dreams about what life will be like after resettlement affect how they think of themselves in the present. With more than half of their community now dispersed around the world, identity—the self-concept of what it means to be a Bhutanese refugee—is influenced in the present by the sometimes-opposing forces of nostalgia for the past and hopes for the future. Differing practices and thoughts concerning education, work, religion, and death between Bhutan, the camps in Nepal, and resettled populations contribute to the identity struggle faced by those living in the camps today, providing excellent lenses for viewing how Bhutanese refugees make sense of their lives.

Education and Work
Education, work and providing for family were important values raised by many of the Bhutanese refugees we interviewed. In Bhutan, most people worked hard as farmers and few of our interviewees attended school. In the camps in Nepal, school is provided for free through grade ten by Caritas, a UNHCR partner organization working in the camps. After grade ten, some people seek a “plus two” education program, where they must pay school fees for grades eleven and twelve. Additionally, some people seek higher education either in Nepal or nearby in India. Many people think education increases opportunities for work, especially after resettlement. Refugees are not legally permitted to work in Nepal, though some do take jobs in Nepal or India without legal protection. Many people asked us about opportunities for education after resettlement, and almost everyone spoke of desiring to work and provide for their families, which many felt they would be able to do after resettling. 

For twenty-eight-year-old Khem, education forms a crucial link between the desire to develop a new life in the future and the strong connections to his past in Bhutan.  He proudly spoke English throughout his interview, exhibiting the language skills he learned in school which will be a great asset after he resettles. Khem demonstrates the perspective of a younger person who came of age in the camps; he has a different connection to Bhutan than elders who lived part of their adult lives there, and a further difference from younger people who never lived in Bhutan. When asked to draw a map of his first home, Khem split his page into two halves, the top containing his home in Beldangi, and the bottom displaying his home in Bhutan.  He moved quickly to talking about education, which he considers one of his core values. He described the Marigold School he attended up to grade eight and the secondary school he attended in Beldangi. 

Two of the most significant moments he identified were graduating from class ten in Beldangi and class twelve in Darjeeling, India. When going to school in India, Khem reconnected and lived with a “pure Bhutanese” friend from his former village in Bhutan.  He had not talked to him in two decades, since his friend had been allowed to stay when Khem fled. They quarreled often about the reasons for the refugees fleeing Bhutan; Khem believed that the King of Bhutan had forced them out, while his friend believed they had left willingly. Their disagreements illustrate the differences between people sharing a common origin but living in different locations. They also reflect that, while most of the refugees still identify as Bhutanese, there exists a great tension between their rosy memories of the country and the reality of the circumstances that forced their flight and existence today.

Another significant moment for Khem was when his siblings left Beldangi to resettle to the United States.  At the time, Khem was working as a primary school teacher in India, and therefore didn’t join his family in their move.  His brother and sisters call and tell him that he will “live a beautiful life” in America, which they say is “much better than Beldangi.”  Khem currently lives alone in Beldangi.  He sits between two worlds in many ways. His parents remained in Bhutan, allowed to remain there through the arbitrary decisions of the Bhutanese government. His siblings are creating new lives far from Bhutan and Nepal in the US. Khem has seen his father only once since leaving Bhutan, and has not seen his mother. 

Khem’s infrequent contact with friends and family in Bhutan is typical for Bhutanese refugees. Young people especially are unlikely to have any contact with people in that country, though almost everyone identifies as Bhutanese. Many young people learn about Bhutan through the older populations, and feel only loosely connected. On the other hand, almost everyone we talked to, young and old, reported knowing people who have resettled. Many of them still talk over the phone often, providing a steady flow of ideas back to the camps about what life is like in destination countries. These modes of communication are visible in the many internet cafes, cell phone shops, and Western Union money transfer signs lining the street of the BelCity Bazaar outside the Beldangi camps. The flow of remittances communicates financial success after resettlement. It also reinforces remaining connections between people in the camps and destination countries, contributing to and reflecting the pressures diaspora places on identity.  

Sixty-two-year-old Dilli expressed competing desires to return to his life as a farmer in Bhutan, but also to resettle to America with his children and grandchildren.  Dilli was happy in Bhutan where he worked on his own farm. He provided for his family by farming maize and millet, but said, “After coming here, nothing. There are no fields here so I don’t have any work. I just stay.” Dilli wasn’t educated in Bhutan, but valued himself as a worker and provider and taught his children the value of working on the farm. In Nepal, Dilli thinks his children’s values have diverged from his.  However, despite the value he has always placed on his farming knowledge and ability, he now also sees himself through the lens of success as defined in the camps and in the future land of resettlement. When asked what changes he would make to the camp if he were in charge, Dilli answered that he would not be able to do anything because he is not educated. And to ensure a better future, he desires not that his grandchildren farm, but rather that they get an education.

Dilli dwells on his past in Bhutan and his future in America.  He didn’t talk much about the twenty-two years he has lived in the refugee camp, but expressed his unhappiness at being unable to work and provide for his family there, contrasting it with his life back in Bhutan.  He wants to go to the U.S. with his family for the rest of his life, where he desires to do whatever work he can find.  The pull to be a provider reflects traditional practices in Bhutan where old people work until they die to provide food for the family.  Dilli clearly still identifies as a Bhutanese farmer, saying, “I remember only my motherland, Bhutan. I want to return back. I don’t have anything.  I love my old farm, my house very much.  I left everything. I have already left my town, my country… In the future, in what country we will be resettled and what will happen there, I don’t know... But we are not allowed to stay here… The only thing I don’t want to forget is my motherland, where I was born and used to work on my own farm.” 

Religion and Death
Religious identity and funerary practices overlap significantly and demonstrate how values from Bhutan and ideas concerning future resettlement are navigated. Many religions coexist peacefully in the camps, including Hinduism, Buddhism, Christianity, Kirat, Manav Dharma, and Lovism. Most people are religious and many practice the same religions they or their families did in Bhutan. Some have converted to other religions, including an increasing number of Christians. Conversion happens for many reasons including family problems, hope for a better future, and ideas about resettlement.  Religious identity is important to many people and is proudly displayed in religious dress, prayer flags, and religious posters around the camps as well as in the well-kept churches and temples. Thoughts about resettlement can solidify religious identity as people are pushed to closely examine their commitments in the face of new opportunities and challenges to worship, or it can lead people to question their religion.   

Eighteen-year-old Arjun does not currently identify as religious, but thinks he will after he resettles.  He was born in the camps and lives there now but hopes to resettle soon with his father to Texas, where he has other family members.  Arjun said that different religions are all “living happily” together in the camps. He has friends of all different religions, but he only knows of Christianity in America.  Illustrating the influence of resettled populations on life in the camps, Arjun said, “All the families and relatives who have already resettled, they became Christian, so I also want to be Christian… all the people that are following that religion think it is good, so they follow it, so I also think it is good and want to follow it.”  He doesn’t think anything happens when people convert, but thinks his future will be better if he is Christian. His father is Hindu, but Arjun predicts he may also convert to Christianity after resettlement. 

Nineteen-year-old Kamala desires to preserve her current cultural identity after resettlement, demonstrated by her longing to continue her traditions of daily worship and funeral observances in the U.S. Kamala and her family follow the religion Manav Dharma, a sub sect of Hinduism.  Her grandparents practiced Manav Dharma in Bhutan, but her parents didn’t begin practicing it until they moved to the camps in Nepal.  Her family observes a thirteen-day ceremony when someone dies, but they’ve heard from resettled people that American employers allow only one day off from work to mourn. She would prefer to celebrate a death for thirteen days and to have a priest present, but she is not sure if that is possible in the U.S. In Manav Dharma practices in Bhutan and Nepal, the body is traditionally buried in the earth. Kamala believes that “there is nothing left” when a body is buried in cement, which she thinks is done in the U.S. 

Kamala has also heard from people who have resettled to the U.S. that they can no longer follow dashain or tihar, popular Nepali religious celebrations.  She learned in cultural orientation class that they wouldn’t be able to do the same worship in the U.S. as they do in the camp because they’ll be arrested if they sing their holy songs as loudly as they traditionally do.  Refugees who have resettled have called her and said, “You better follow Christian religion because it will be easier for you in the US,” and told her there aren’t temples to maintain her religious practice.  Her uncle told her family not to convert, however, because he knows of a temple where they can continue practicing Manav Dharma, and, despite the warning about being too loud, she also learned in cultural orientation class that refugees could follow any religion in the U.S. Kamala wants to resettle to the U.S. with her family, but is anxious. “Maybe I will not be able to follow my culture. I feel tension.” 

Desire to maintain familiar traditions is poignantly expressed in the life story of thirty-seven-year-old Sabi. She has not applied for resettlement, but didn’t wish to talk about her reasons.  She talked extensively about Bhutan, asserting that she would like to go back there if given the opportunity. The contradictions between her expressions of nostalgia for life in Bhutan and her positive depictions of life in the camp reflect how her identity is complicated by diaspora, as she associates both positive and negative things with both places.  She believes Bhutan is beautiful and thinks she would be healthier there; however, she also talked about discrimination in Bhutan, an absence of community spirit there, and the hardship a person would face there without education.  Though Sabi said that they lack many things in the camps, especially food, she thinks everyone gets along now in the camps and has a good sense of community.  Sabi’s family and community are dispersed around the world. One of her older sisters lives in Bhutan, her older brother lives with her in the Sanischare camp, and her younger brother lives in the U.S. She still talks to all of them and saw her sister once when she visited from Bhutan before their father resettled to the U.S. In Bhutan, the family used to all practice Buddhism, but in recent years, her brothers have both converted to Christianity. 

Sabi’s father moved to the U.S. in January 2012 and died one month after arriving.  He had trouble communicating in English and didn’t feel at home in his own house. Sabi believes that four days after his death, his soul came into her body and started to trouble her. He spoke through her to the community in the camps, saying that he had the desire to die in his own house in the camp. Through her, he told people to gather in the temple and do holy singing to allow his soul to rest and leave her body.  The community did so and his soul left her body after 22 days. Sabi’s younger Christian brother had just resettled to the U.S. when their father died, and Christian people there helped him bury their father’s body.  Sabi was not mad because that is the custom in the U.S, even though Buddhist death practices are different.  According to Sabi, in Bhutan and Nepal, Buddhists cremate bodies and Christians bury bodies, and Christians can’t touch the body in Buddhist ceremonies.  Her story reflects the close connection between  religion and ideas about death. Death is a private moment, but it also allows group religious solidarity to be expressed through funeral rites. Death practices reflect important personal and group identities through decisions regarding how, where, and with whom people want to die. These identities are not necessarily linked to a specific physical location, but are formed through interactions of community members dispersed around the globe. 

Conclusion
To be a Bhutanese refugee twenty years after fleeing Bhutan and five years after resettlement began, while still living in the refugee camps in Southeastern Nepal is to experience many contradictions in one’s identity.  Different components of identity are simultaneously challenged and reinforced, as more and more people resettle and camp dynamics and demographics change. Of course, identities naturally are under pressure for everyone, particularly when people grow older, move to new locales, take on different family and work roles, and go through other life changes. However, these normal pressures are exacerbated by the unusual, rapidly changing environment of the refugee camps in Southeastern Nepal.  It is a fascinating opportunity to see how people make sense of their lives in the vast interconnected world around them, and how communities change and stay the same as people disperse around the world. Though there is no single identity that encompasses every Bhutanese refugee, all identities are influenced by their status as a population in exile in the midst of many changes.  Living away from their homeland of Bhutan, living in a place where they cannot settle down permanently, living with their community dispersed around the world, and preparing to potentially live abroad themselves, affects every person’s identity.