
The pursuit of happiness is a peculiarly American conceit, rooted in our democratic beginnings and still, today, one of our culture's major preoccupations, for good or bad.
But there's a country out there which seems to have one-upped us in the chase for bliss: In the tiny Himalayan kingdom of Bhutan, they actually measure this elusive state of being. America has the GNP, Bhutan has the GNH -- Gross National Happiness index, which found, in a recent survey, that 96 percent of the country's citizens believed themselves to be very blissed-out indeed.
While we Americans relentlessly and often fruitlessly pursue happiness, the Bhutanese -- who are also among the poorest people in the world -- seem to have captured it. It's one of many paradoxes found in this idiosyncratic country of 700,000 people wedged between India and China.
But can they keep it?
For 100 years or so, Bhutan, known as the Land of the Thunder Dragon for its violent storms, pretty much walled itself off from the world. Only during the past few decades has it ever so slowly and deliberately entered the modern era on its own terms, a Brigadoon holding the global consumer culture at bay for as long as possible, anxious not to become another Nepal: polluted, overrun, riven with political and social tensions.
Tomorrow, though, Bhutan takes a major step in its transition from an absolute monarchy to a constitutional monarchy. Tomorrow, its citizens vote in national elections for representatives from either the People's Democratic Party and the Bhutan Peace and Prosperity Party (whose political differences are slight -- about the distance between Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama).
The democratization of Bhutan, which was admitted to the United Nations in 1971, was ordered two years ago by a man The Wall Street Journal called "his country's George Washington, John Adams and Thomas Jefferson, combined."
His Majesty the King -- or, rather, former king -- Jigme Singye Wangchuck abdicated in late 2006 in favor of his Oxford-educated 26-year-old son, whose coronation takes place in May. The process began in 1998, when Wangchuk reduced his powers, declaring that Bhutan would become a constitutional monarchy like Britain or Thailand.
Legal experts were dispatched to study constitutions worldwide and come up with the best version for Bhutan, which -- mailed to every household -- begins with "We the people."
A year ago, the country held mock elections, complete with "dummy" political parties. Not everyone was thrilled, though, at the notion of their wise king being replaced by a bunch of politicians. Many believe that if there was a referendum, the choice for democracy would be soundly defeated.
Bhutan has never been colonized or invaded, although its monarchy dates back to the time of the British Raj, whose rulers in India largely left it alone -- mainly by necessity, since it was difficult to reach.
This is the world's most mountainous country, with topography like a giant staircase. Only 4 percent of its 30,000 square miles are flat: the lowest steps beginning in the lush jungle lowlands of the south near the Indian border, through a rugged, steeply forested, 6,000-foot mountain range to the central part of the country, then climbing steadily upward to the icy Himalayan peaks, which top 23,000 feet (unlike Nepal and Tibet, no mountain climbing is allowed in these sacred places).
That land remains remarkably pristine and biologically diverse today -- it's listed as one of the world's top 10 ecological "hot spots." Ecotourism is a major attraction for the few thousand tourists who are admitted each year.
Change, while inevitable, is slow. Television only came to Bhutan in 1999, the Internet a year later. The Bhutanese may be happy, but they can't buy Happy Meals at McDonald's, because there is no McDonald's. There's a convenience store here: it's called 8-Eleven. Forget about buying cigarettes: since Dec. 17, 2005, it's been illegal to sell tobacco or smoke in public.
There's been no outcry: Bhutan is very orderly, a place where people actually obey traffic signals and where there's a dress code (native gear only): for men, it's a knee-length robe; for women, short jacket and long wraparound skirt. The color of the shawls the women wear, in fact, signify their social status.
Besides being one of the world's poorest countries, it is also one of the youngest: 49 percent of its citizens are under 21. Unemployment is a problem, especially given that the literacy rate has soared from 20 percent in 1992 to close to 60 percent today, and government officials worry they are raising a generation of highly educated young people with no outlet for their talents.
Tourism, carefully managed, is one area of growth. The government is hoping to earn revenue from water draining out of the Himalayas, harnessed as hydroelectric power and sold to India, its closest neighbor (Tibet/China is on the other side).
Mostly, though, this gentle-minded, soon-to-be-democracy has hewed to the notion that "a society matures best through the concurrent development of the material and the spiritual," anchored by the former king's four core values: economic growth, protection of cultural values, environmental conservation and good government.
British visitors long ago described Bhutan this way: a place with "dark and steep glens, and the high tops of mountains lost in the clouds, constituting a scene of extraordinary magnificence and subliminity."
The Puma T-shirts may be proliferating on the streets of Thimphu, Bhutan's capital, but the karma is still good. Just don't forget the Dramamine.

As with most things in life, there is a Pittsburgh connection.
And so there is with Bhutan.
Burt Kerr Todd, who grew up on Wightman Street in Squirrel Hill, was believed to be the first American to enter Bhutan a half-century ago. He would devote much of his life, before he died two years ago at 81, to helping the country modernize. He not only updated Bhutan's primitive postal system, he introduced its first stamp and would spend years developing new ones.
The fun-loving son of a prominent Pittsburgh, banking, glass and steel family, Mr. Todd got out of town early: first to serve in World War II, later to study at Oxford, where he had to talk his way in after being told admission was out of the question, given his indifferent academic record.
His gift for friendship led him, while in England, to meet Ashi Kesang Dorji, the first woman from Bhutan to study in the West. In 1949, she invited him and two Oxford friends to visit her in India. When she married Bhutan's crown prince in 1952, Mr. Todd walked with her into that country -- which had no air service -- and then stayed for 7 months, taking photographs that appeared in National Geographic's December 1952 issue.
He returned to Pittsburgh and took up with Frances "Susie" Hays of Fox Chapel. But when she caught wind that Burt was making plans to visit that country again, she told him that when he returned, she might not be waiting for him. He got down on his knees and proposed. They married -- and went to Bhutan together with a Look magazine photographer. Their three-month honeymoon was chronicled in its pages as "Honeymoon in Shangri-la."
Burt Todd never did learn to speak the language, although "he had a good ear, and courage to just wing it," his daughter Frances Todd Stewart says. "People thought he was fluent because he could pull it off with such pizazz."
His friendships in that country deepened, and he would return often. In 1962, he decided what Bhutan needed was a postage stamp, and after that, he couldn't be stopped.
With a knack for salesmanship and wide range of contacts around the world, from the Sultan of Brunei to the King of Mauritius, Mr. Todd marketed a series of stamps as "firsts" -- the first perfumed stamp; the first sculptural stamp; the first stamp made of steel (it rusted). The first "talking" stamp could be played on a turntable, where a scratchy recording of Burt's voice earnestly recited Bhutan's vital statistics ("The kingdom of Bhutan is a landlocked country of 18,000 square miles in the heart of the Himalayas. The Bhutanese are a strong and well-built race …" )
"Dad's stamps ended up being a major source of revenue for the country in those days," said Ms. Stewart. They helped to build hospitals, roads, electricity, "things the country really needed. And it put Bhutan on the map in peoples' eyes."

Bhutan's unique link to Pittsburgh is being kept alive through Burt Todd's daughter and son-in-law, Frances and Charlie Stewart.
Something of a chip off the old block, Frances Todd Stewart, a Squirrel Hill businesswoman, has built a career using her imagination, business smarts and knowledge of product development to come up with some decidedly original stuff. She has produced more than 30 children's books, and -- are you sitting down? -- the world's first touch-activated scratching post for cats.
Now, with Bhutan's authorization, Ms. Stewart has developed what she calls "the first documentary CD-ROM postage stamp with a Web portal."
It's all about carrying on her father's legacy, she says.
"His true job was to help Bhutan become recognized in the world as a sovereign nation, and stamps can do that," she said. "When you think about a country, you think about its currency and its stamps because they are uniquely a part of that country."
The stamp -- a small, ornately decorated CD whose envelope has an adhesive backing that can be attached to a letter -- can be popped into the mail in Bhutan and be delivered anywhere in that country. It can also be popped into a computer anywhere in the world, and depending on which stamp you use, one of four authorized documentaries about Bhutan, shot by Ms. Stewart's husband Charlie, will come up on the screen, along with a hyperlink to a "live" Bhutan Web site, www.bhutantoday.com. (The stamps are available at www.bhutanpostagestamps.com.)
At this writing, the Stewarts are in Bhutan, observing the country's elections. The couple is also busy creating Web sites for the Bhutanese, who only got "wired" in 2000.
"Isn't it incredible that your life can come together this way, to enable you to do what you really were meant do?" Ms. Stewart said shortly before her departure.
Sitting in her family room, she looked up at a portrait of her father, and added:
"Burt Todd is orchestrating the whole thing from the heavens, totally. He's opening doors right and left. It's so sweet."