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Bhutan Basics

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Bhutan basics:

National Bird- Raven

Favorite Food- Anything with chilies 

Fridge settings-Winter, Summer, Monsoon

Toilets- squat (bring paper unless adept at the Asian bidet, water bucket and a scoop)

They drive on the left, so step off a curb and look RIGHT not left (that lesson comes quickly).

At day 23, life here is starting to feel normal. Everyone is settled into a pleasant routine. 

With only three sets of clothes each (one for wearing, one for washing, and one backup) Jen’s day usually starts with some laundry. You have to hang it out early, so it will dry before the afternoon weather rolls in (cold fingers hanging up wet clothes in 30 degree temps). Our little washer is on the balcony with the clothes line. It took some practice figuring out what the “fuzzy” cycle was about. Also, to power the washer Jen has to unplug the microwave, and run the extension cord from the electric blanket through an open kitchen window, but the chore no longer produces the profanity it did early on. 

On teaching days her and the kids bundle into a taxi and head across town to the school where they teach English Literacy and Yoga. 

Without the rush to make morning assembly, they usually choose to walk back home, picking up ingredients for the evening’s dinner on their meandering. Back at the apartment, Jen is still the teacher, and it is time for the girls to do their own schoolwork. 

On non-teaching days, the girls all head straight to the pine forest above the apartment. Schoolwork is still on their schedule, only now their classroom comes with a view. They always seem to negotiate time to build a fort or play among the prayer flags at the end of their lessons. After, it’s back down into the valley for the day’s shopping, a visit to the telecom office, or perhaps a coffee with another volunteer. 

I normally catch up with the gang around 3:00. After snacks and snuggles, we try to go out on some adventure together in town. A trip to the National Library, Tashi Dzong, the archery grounds, or just a taxi ride up to the telecom reflector tower. 

Evenings… the same dinner, bath, hair-combing, teeth-brushing routine as home. Except it is Indian cable that provides the background chatter instead of DirecTV. Occasionally a power outage triggers some flashlight games. And a game of Uno is never far from reach. 

We certainly are lacking many of the comforts of home here. We’re cold a lot, and we haven’t yet found a decent slice of bread. But there is something to the simple life here. It’s like the difference between those diabetic desserts and those made with real sugar and lard. One is richer and more satisfying.

Lunch with Lamas

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The snows held off. This past weekend we finally made it out of Thimphu, our guide, OR nurse Sonam. 

I couldn’t be more proud of the girls. They stoically endured hours of vomit inducing mountain roads (Jen and Lily were the only ones to avoid a purge) in a tiny car that smelled oddly of lemon Pledge. 

In Phobjika valley, winter migration grounds for the blacked neck crane, the kids politely sat on the floor of a farmhouse and ate red rice, fried fresh cheese, and pork belly. While they didn’t clean their plates, they also did not balk or turn up their noses to our host’s meager offerings. 

In Punakha we visited the city’s Dzong (a mixture fortress, monastery, government offices, and court house). The Lama of the Dzong was impressed that we made the children wear Kira as a sign of respect. So he invited us to celebrate one of his junior monk’s recognition as master mandala maker. Mandalas are the highly symbolic art pieces that are painted on buildings, and canvas throughout the Buddhist world. In some ceremonies, the artists spend weeks creating mandalas of colored sand only to sweep it away in an acknowledgment of the impermanence of reality. 

photo by worldreligionnews.com

For our hosts, the party we joined was bit like an office event, celebrating a promotion. The celebrant’s family was present, and naturally, they insisted we partake of the food. Again, the girls rose to the occasion. Taking cues from the monks, they balled up rice and ate with their hands, in local fashion. They sipped at tea I know they dislike, and Lily sampled an egg of unknown vintage that even I avoided. If diplomacy can survive our current administration, my girls may have a future in it. 

Shangri-La 2.0

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In Dzongkha, Druk Yul is the name Bhutanese give their country. It translates to Land of the Thunder  Dragon. They should call it Land of the Thunder Dog. Packs of stray dogs infest Thimphu. To my torment, they sleep all day and bark all night. The four that camp out at our apartment entrance have become de facto pets for the girls. Gi-gi, Noodles, Grumpy Dog, and Russell. 

Despite difficulties sleeping, Bhutan continues to confound and delight us. In Delhi, Bangkok, Tokyo, or Hong Kong it was easy to find a 7-11, Kentucky Fried Chicken, or Starbucks. Not so here. There are no chain stores, no billboards (other than pictures of the king), and no 6-lane highways. So we buy our produce at the weekend market, fast food is a street vendor selling Tibetan Momos (steamed dumplings), and our coffee is the instant crystal type.  

Unlike other Asian countries we have visited, Bhutan is not rushing headlong into the modern/globalized world. They’ve seen the result such actions have taken on neighboring countries (deforestation, pollution, urban sprawl, crime) and politely said no thank you. Bhutan chooses to enter the modern age in its own time. 

And so, as recent as 60 years ago there were no paved roads connecting this landlocked country with the outside world. The first television signals were not received until the late 90’s. In 1989, as a way to preserve Bhutanese traditions, the government began actively promoting Driglam Namzha, a code of conduct that specifies how to behave like a civilized Bhutanese. The most visible sign of this commitment is the requirement to wear traditional dress (Gho for men, Kira for women) at school, in the office, or when visiting temples. 

The ethos of mindful-modernization permeates the entire culture. As part of its constitution, Bhutan maintains 60% of its land under forest cover. New construction must conform to traditional Bhutanese design. Even traffic lights are an object of scrutiny. When one was installed in the capital, the residents of Thimphu complained that it was too impersonal. After it was dismantled their city became the only world capital without traffic lights, leaving us to decode the movements of their traffic police. 

In tourist brochures and travel shows, Bhutan is often compared to Shangri-La, that fictional Himalayan paradise first described in the 1933 book Lost Horizon. Having seen maroon clad monks with smart phones, in a country that jealously guards its forests despite their economical potential, Shangri-La 2.0 is a more apt description. 

Himalayan Adventure: Our First Few Days

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98% of a big fat Himalayan adventure is figuring out the mundane. How do you charge a laptop, make a local call, find bathroom cleaner. 

Our first days in Bhutan are behind us and we’re starting to get our sea legs. 

The kids have learned to sleep with vests over their PJs and everyone congregates on the electric blanket when reading. There’s no insulation or central heating so our apartment (at 8600 feet) is pretty chilly. 

We’re slowly getting the hang of making meals for five on an electric hot plate. And no one needs to be reminded not to brush their teeth with tap water (we have a gravity filter the size of a mini-keg that constantly needs refilling). 

It was a pretty productive weekend setting up our home here. We got local phone numbers, internet for the apartment, and made it to the weekend market (the only place to get fresh vegetables). And all of this in a blend of English and Dzongkha, a language similar to Tibetan and heavy with Z and Shu sounds. 

It wasn’t all chores, though. Yesterday we hiked up to Taktshang Goemba (Tiger’s Nest Monastery). This ancient structure clings to the side of a cliff 2700 feet above the floor of Paro valley.

Guru Rinpoche (an aspect of the second Buddha, Padmasambava) is said to have flown to the site on the back of a tigress to subdue a local demon. As such we shared the arduous climb with Bhutanese pilgrims. 

The site of so many blond heads scampering through the rhododendron forest was quite the spectacle for many of these locals, who were all smiles. 

In fact, we’re always a bit of a spectacle when we leave the apartment. There are so few westerners here. And even fewer western children. And I’m sure we’re traveling with the only western twins in the country. Which explains why the second word we learned in Dzongkha, after Hello, was the word for twins… Nima Dauwa. 

Let our Himalayan Adventure continue…….