Weaving the Incantation

***THIS POST HAS BEEN UNEDITED TO PRESERVE AUTHENTICITY***

We left Bumthang today, having recovered sufficiently from our serious walk yesterday. It is about an eight hour drive from Bumthang to Mongar, where we currently are.

We left around 9:30 this morning, and drove all day. It was raining for about the first 3 hours, so we didn't get to get out and look around at the point in between the two valleys, which is at 3700 meters (the highest we've been on the trip so far).

When we began descending, though, the weather cleared up, and even got sunny towards the end. The degree to which the weather and general climate differs by valley here is astounding. One minute, you can be in a rainy section of pine forest, and then ten minutes later, after cresting a ridge, it might be ten degrees warmer, and there will be moss hanging from the trees that appear almost tropical.

We stopped at a restaurant to eat the packed lunch we had taken with us from the hotel in Bumthang at one point, around 1:30. We sat at one of their tables eating our food in their restaurant while they watched what appeared to be Indian soap operas. One of the men stared at me the entire time we were in there, looking down only to scoop up food from his own lunch.

Earlier in the day, we had started listening to the music on driver Tashi's USB, which was a eclectic mix of Bhutanese tunes, Bollywood dance numbers, and western music ranging from Lady Gaga to Green Day. It turned out that driver Tashi's USB had near 160 songs on it. When I asked why we hadn't put it in sooner (seeing as we had heard Dead or Alive probably 15 times now), they told me that they weren't sure if I would like the Bhutanese and Nepali music that was mixed in. I told them that it wasn't like I got to hear Nepali music back home, so for sure I was good with it. It was nice to hear something else after nothing but one Bon Jovi cd and one AC/DC cd on repeat for the last 12 hours of driving we have done.

A few hours later, we stopped for tea wen we saw some benches on the side of the road. As we were preparing our tea, we heard the rhythmic beating of a drum and the clash of cymbals. Tashi said that this was coming from the nearby house, and was some kind of local animism ritual meant to ward off evil spirits. He went inside and asked if we could come watch. The people, being friendly like nearly all Bhutanese, allowed us in, no problem.

When we entered the house, we found it to be full of incense smoke and people. The house was probably no more than 20 feet by 20 feet, but there were 3 women, 5 small kids, one grown monk, and one younger monk as well. There, I witnessed the most authentic and bizarre ritual I have ever seen. Not that I've seen many ward-off-evil-spirit rituals in my life.

There were, on the ground, the likeness of different evil spirits fashioned out of ground up corn, some with candles burning in front of them. All of the people inside were gathered around, and were throwing handfuls of corn kernels at them and saying something in their local dialect of Dzongkha. Tashi explained that it was something to the effect of, "go," and was an attempt to banish the evil spirits from the household. All the while, the monk was reciting passages of scripture relevant to the ceremony.

Tashi and I took seats on an empty mat and observed for a few minutes, until the monk came to a break in the scripture. Everyone came over and crowded around me, saying hello in Dzongkha, and the kids looked on with the fascination that I have come to expect. Out here, though, the people are even less used to having visitors, so I may well have been the first white person some of them had seen. Remember that this was in the middle of nowhere, in between two rural towns that are also in the middle of nowhere.

After hellos, one of the women hurried off, and returned quickly with a small and intricately engraved container. She started saying something to Tashi, to which he laughed and translated. He told me that since I was a guest, they had brought me some local wine that they had made themselves. Tashi couldn't have nay because he was driving, but there was nothing stopping me, he said.

I was quickly handed a bowl, which the woman filled until it was close to overflowing. Everyone looked on expectantly. I smiled at them and took a sip. It wasn't bad, for alcohol made in the middle of nowhere by people who grew corn for a living.

As soon as I finished taking a drink, the woman that was holding the wine container leaned in and refilled by bowl. She proceeded to do this after the next four drinks I took, until I told her I couldn't have any more if she wanted me to walk out of her house on my own. Tashi translated, and everone laughed.

The ritual resumed, everyone began tossing corn at the effigies again, and the monk resumed his chanting, drum-pounding, and cymbal-banging. By the time the ritul was over for the day (they would resume again tomorrow, as it wasn't finished), I had had more than two bowls full of these people's so-called wine. I wouldfind out later that the woman constantly refilling my bowl had said to Tashi that she was impressed that I was still drinking after she refilled my bowl for the last time, and that I must be stronger than Bhutanese people since I was not drunk. So there I was thinking I was doing what was expected of me, when she had expected me to tell her I had had enough long before I did. Whoops.

Anyways, this "wine" was, it turned out, a lot stronger than it tasted. I had a pretty hard time getting out and back to the car, and when I reached the car, dropped into my seat, threw on my sunglasses, punched in the track number for Tiny Dancer, I was feeling pretty damn good.

The rest of the ride here (Mongar) was pretty good. We had put in the usb I loaded up with some things I thought Tashi square would like, based on the input they had given me, and I was quite drunk. Felt good, man.

Lesson learned from today? Beward alcohol offered by strangers, even if they are friendly, especially if you are unsure of the percentage of alcohol content.

Alright, I can't' do this anymore. I'm falling asleep as I type this. You've got pretty much everything of interest that happened today, though. Pease out compadres. Catch you on the flip side.