Guess Who's Back?

Alright, so I know it's been a few days since my last post, but It's hard to get on here when there's no internet. The place we are in today is the first place to have a computer with internet that we've been to since Thimphu 5 days ago. I've been writing these posts on my laptop, so I do have one for every day, and I've gone back and edited the publishing dates so that they match the days they actually took place. Also, we're leaving this hotel tomorrow, so I'm not sure when I'll get back on to post more, but hopefully this satisfies you guys for a bit. So don't worry if there's no new posts for another few days. It is unlikely that I have fallen off a cliff or been kidnapped by organ-thieves or anything like that. The part of the country we are in is pretty rural, so internet is hard to come by.

With that taken care of, back to the story!


We started today with a drive to a nearby monastery that showcased some of the stunning decoration and painting found in all Bhutanese Buddhist temples. Every time we visit one of these places, I am always surprised at how colorful they are. The walls are always painted with different figures from Buddhist mythology, there are hand-woven tapestries and decorations hanging from the ceiling, and the support pillars are covered in hand-sculpted metal.

After this, we drove to the National Art School, where students are trained in painting, woodworking, embroidery, sculpting, and sewing with a hand loom.

In Bhutan, there are only a small number of high schools that teach past grade ten. The government provides education for all children up to grade ten, but afterward, only pays for the further education of those students with the highest grades. If a child's family possesses enough money, they can pay for their child to attend school without attaining the requisite grades, but most families cannot afford this.

Because of this shortage of high schools, the government has also opened schools like this one to enable those students not accepted into upper high school to learn trades. The students at the school were much like those you would see in any school back home. Some were hard at work, some were sleeping at their desks, and some were chatting away and getting little work done.

Since the school is teaching its students to fashion physical objects, rather than just throwing away the finished products, the statues, paintings, wooden masks, and so on are taken by the government and sold to the public. The money brought in this way goes back to fund the operation of the school. This additional revenue is required to run the school, as all the students are not only provided an education, but while they are students, they also live and eat at the school, all of which is paid for.

After this, we drove up to the radio transmission tower that is perched high above the city. From there we could see all of Thimphu as well as the surrounding area. Around the tower there were also an enormous number of prayer flags. Prayer flags are pieces of cloth of different colors stamped with blessings. The different colors represent the four elements. The people place these flags en masse anywhere people constantly pass by, as they are said to bring good luck and safe travels. You find them adorning almost every bridge in Bhutan, as well as on the side of the road and around temples. Tashi said that up here there were probably more prayer flags in one place then anywhere else in the country, and it wasn't hard to believe. There were thousands of them. Along a path leading away from the city, they were hung from every tree and between poles that seem to have been erected just for that purpose. This went on as far as I could see.



We then headed back down toward the city, and stopped at the "zoo," as Tashi called it. It turned out really to be a big pen for Bhutan's national animal, the takin. In the early 90's, a young wounded takin wandered into the area, and some local residents nursed it back to health. By that point, it had grown accustomed to human contact and support, so to release it back into the wilderness would likely have been fatal. Instead, a habitat for it was fenced off, and the "zoo" was established. There are now nine takin that live in the reserve, with two more due to be born soon.




Next we drove to a traditional paper factory, were we saw each step in the process of turning native plants into paper. It is done by much the same process as at home, but all by hand. Most people do not use this paper anymore, as it is substantially more costly and takes longer to manufacture than by modern methods. Typically these days it is reserved for writing scriptures on.

Finally, we drove up to the massive statue of Buddha that is under construction way up on a nearby mountain.



When I asked Tashi about what kind of landscaping they had to do to make a space big enough to build this behemoth of a statue, he told me that the construction site used to be the peak of a mountain. They chopped off the top to make their space. These guys are clearly super serious about their Buddhism. As you can tell from the picture, the statue is still under construction, but when it is finished, it will make an impressive sight, looking out over the city.

To get an idea of how tall this thing is, take a look at the full size picture and notice how small the trees that are nearby are. Don't be fooled by those ones in the foreground; those are far closer to me than the statue.

In the afternoon I wandered around the city and received more stares than I have ever gotten in my life. It was ok though, because most of the people were either smiling at me, or at least looking on in curiosity. It is becoming a common sight for me to be walking or driving by a group of people, have one notice me, and have them start tapping their friends and getting them all to look at me. When this happens, I usually smile and wave, and they always do the same.

Dirt From a Holy Place

Yesterday morning, I awoke to the sound of dogs barking. There are a lot of dogs in Bhutan. They don't really belong to anyone, but they're not exactly strays either. People feed them, and they just kind of hang around and sleep on rocks, or in the middle of the road, or wherever they feel so inclined.

It was 6:15 in the morning. I didn't have to be up until 7:30, but it didn't seem like I was getting to sleep anytime soon, so I got up, made myself presentable (read: put on clothes), shot this Video , and went to have Breakfast early. It was just as good as the Meal the night before, Save one Thing; one place where Bhutan seems to have dropped the ball completely.

Unsalted butter. This is something I have never, and probably will never understand. Butter without taste makes absolutely no sense. It's not like it's good for you. If you're going to eat something that's not good for you, it might as well taste good. The only difference between toast with no butter and toast with unsalted butter is the slight softening of the bread. Why don't you just pour some water on your toast instead if that's what you're after? That'll get the job done just the same, and you'll spare your heart a bit of extra strain.

After breakfast, I met up with Tashi square and grabbed my bags from my room. When I returned from fetching my bags, they were, of course, taken from me and carried to the car by a girl half my size. She looked like she was having quite a bit of trouble, but my repeated attempts to get her to let me carry them did no good.

As we stood around while the car was fetched and the bags were loaded, Tashi (whenever I say Tashi, I am referring to my guide. Our driver speaks very little English and doesn't do much other than drive) was chatting to one of the girls who works at the hotel. After a brief exchange, he turned to me with a grin and said, "she says you are very handsome." I just stood there for a second, unsure of what to say to that, but I quickly recovered. "Really? Well tell her thank you, and tell her that she is very beautiful."

I smiled at her, put on my sunglasses with a flourish that would shame David Caruso, turned around, and got into the car without looking back. Oh yeah.

I'm not sure if Tashi relayed my message, but I assume so, because the girl came over to the car and started asking me questions in her heavily-accented English. See, I had assumed we would be driving off as soon as I got in the car, but apparently not. My suave and dramatic exit was ruined. So there I was, sitting in the car while she stood outside the window talking to me. She really was quite pretty. I would know. I'm an expert. "How long have you been in Bhutan?" "Do you like it here?" "Are you coming back to Paro?"

I told her that, unfortunately, we wouldn't be coming back to Paro. Sorry babe. Maybe in another life, things could have worked out between us. But as it is, I've got mountains to climb.

We drove out of town, leaving my love flower behind, and headed up a winding road through the forest until it ended. We parked the car, and Tashi and I headed in the direction the sign told us to go. At this point, there wasn't really a path. It was just forest. At one point, we walked through a clearing. Tashi stopped and pointed up. Waaaaaaaaaay up. Like, almost-to-the-top-of-the-mountain up. "See up there? The white? That is where we are going. It is eight hundred meters above where we are now. "He smiled at me, and I just gave a resigned sigh. He laughed, and we continued on our way.

Eventually, we reached a stream with three prayer wheels built on top of it that were kept in motion by the force of the stream. I don't think I've taken any pictures of prayer wheels yet, but I will tomorrow and I ' ll post a picture so you know what I'm talking about. They're these big cylinders with Buddhist scripture written on the inside. Spinning them is supposed to bring blessings to the one who does the spinning, and it was also historically a way for those who were illiterate to engage with scripture, or something along those lines.

Beyond the prayer wheels is where the real defined path started. It is also where the serious incline started. After about 5 minutes though, the path disappeared again, and became little more than a collection of trails worn into the ground by years of repeated travel . We walked and walked and walked, making sure to keep an even pace the whole time. Tashi told me that this was the best way to avoid altitude sickness, rather than going too fast and having to stop, and then starting again. The slow but constant progression allows you to adjust to the difference in altitude more easily. I asked whether he had a lot of people get altitude sickness when they came up here. "Oh yes. But don't worry. By now, you would have gotten it if you were going to. "

After walking for just about half an hour, Tashi announced that there was a good spot to take a picture of the monastery. Excited at any excuse to take a break, I caught up to him and looked up through the trees.

Yeah. It was still that far away. You might need to blow up the picture to see it, because it's not that first building just left of the center of the picture. Oh no. It's that tiny cluster of white dots in the middle of the mountain. And beyond that first white building in the middle of the picture is a straight drop, so you have to walk all the way around the freaking cliff to get to where you are trying to go.

We kept walking, and the path didn't get any easier. At one point, I turned to Tashi and said, "I thought you told me Buddha emphasized taking the middle path. Not easy, not hard, right? This is sure as hell no middle path."

We walked up hills and down hills and crossed muddy patches and scrambled up loose dirt inclines that would probably not be very forgiving if you were to fall. Eventually, though, we crested the final hill, and were rewarded.

We made our way toward the temple, where I was asked to leave my bag outside. Unfortunately, this means no pictures from inside. There were prayer rooms with statues, beautiful paintings on the walls, plates full of food offerings, and colorful cloth and silk decorations all over the place. There were young monks holding burning sticks of incense, and (don't ask me how they got there) more dogs. There were buildings built right into sheer cliff faces, and an old monk reading a Tibetan-English dictionary. There were staircases two stories high and roof beams so thick I have no idea how they got there. There was also, of course, the spectacular view. It's easy to understand how the monks there are able to concentrate so fully. It was the most calming, inspiring, and peaceful place I've ever been.

Sitting on a wall that was there to keep people away from the 800-foot drop not a foot past it, Tashi explained some of the principles of Buddhism and the purpose of meditation. He told me about the trial that all graduate monks must go through before becoming full-fledged members of the monastic community - they must meditate for 3 years, 3 months, 3 weeks, and 3 days straight, stopping only to eat and sleep. This is done in the wild, with no one around. Because the meditation must be constant while awake, not even the person who brings the monk's food can be interacted with. Only after completing this task is the monk granted full status, and given the special robes that display his rank and accomplishment.

Having seen every part of the monastery open to the public and being thoroughly blown away that I was actually there, we began the long trek back down. Still glowing with having visited by far the coolest place I've ever been, it didn't feel so long this time.

When we reached the bottom, we loaded back into the car and drove the hour and a half to Thimphu, the capital of Bhutan. As soon as I got to my room, I threw off my shoes and collapsed on the bed. When I regained enough strength to move again, I noticed this:

That's dirt from the Tiger's Nest right there. We had trekked through so much dirt that morning that it had found its way through my shoes and inside of them. I'm not sure if I want to wash those socks, or keep them as a souvenir.

Finally Free

After setting a time for lunch with the hotel staff, I made my way to my room, where I, being an expert in the operation of lights now, deftly placed my key into its receptacle, and the lights switched on.

Rather pleased with myself, I set about inspecting the room, which, although not as fancy as the one in Bangkok, was still quite nice; far nicer than I expected, certainly. I had visions of places with peeling paint and stained bathtubs, all put into my head by the words of the doctor at the travel clinic I visited back home: "So you're staying in hotels, not hostels, right? Well that's good, but, I mean, they won't be.... you know... Well anyways, you're going to need malaria pills, and you are definitely going to need to get a Vivaxim injection for typhoid and Hep A..."

But no, the place was nice. T.V. with 15 or so channels, a bed with cozy blankets, and a stocked-up minibar. There was even a balcony with a view of all of Paro valley.

After I had showered and changed I headed over to the hotel restaurant, where the waiter asked me if my guide was going to be eating with me. I said that I assumed he was, so I told the waiter I would wait for him to show up. I was already 10 minutes late, so I was a bit concerned by the fact that he hadn't shown up yet.

About 10 minutes later, the waiter returned and asked me if I wanted to just start eating, and I said that I supposed so. I was getting pretty hungry, having only had my 6:00 breakfast at the airport so far today. He hurried off to the kitchen, and returned a few minutes later with one of those round serving trays filled completely with food. Everything on it was for me.

There was garden salad, rice, fried potatoes with some kind of seasoning on them, some kind of beef dish with noodles, butter fried asparagus, and some other vegetable medley, and tea that was refilled every time my cup got low. As the waiter placed the last dish on the table, he told me that my guide was in the kitchen, eating in there. I told him to relay to Tashi that he was welcome to come and eat with me, but he never did. So I sat there alone, just staring out the window at Paro valley down below, loving every single dish they had brought me, and being stunned by the beauty of everything around me.

I ate as much as I could, but it was hopeless. They had brought me enough food to feed at least three people. And once I had eaten as much as I dared (knowing that I would be doing some walking shortly), the waiter brought me fresh banana for desert. Apparently the climate in some parts of the country are suitable for growing things we typically associate with southern climates, like mangos, oranges, and of course, bananas.

After lunch, I found Tashi downstairs, and we headed to the car, joined up with our driver, and headed off to Drugyal Dzong (dzong means fortress), a 350 year old stronghold Tashi told me was built to commemorate Bhutan's victory over the Tibetans. Much of it burned down in the middle of the 20th century, but the stone foundation is all still there.

After that, we went over the the museum. It is inside an old watchtower, which was definitely not built for people my size. Most of the time I was at least slightly bent over, and when we were on the top floor with the sloping roof, or in the basement, I was almost bent double at some points. From there we walked to the dzong that the watchtower was built help protect. The dzong is now used for administrative purposes for the Paro area, as well as as a monastery. No cameras allowed inside the monastery part, unfortunately.

As we were walking around the dzong, Tashi and I got to talking about sports in Bhutan, and he told me that by far the most popular one is archery, which almost everyone participates in. The rules vary depending on what the participants agree upon, but the one constant is that the targets are 120 meters away - longer than a regulation size soccer field. We went to the local range to watch some people play, and I was astounded by how small the targets were. They are probably about the same size as a dinner plate. The fact that anyone manages to hit the thing astounds me, but sure enough, in the 15 minutes we watched, there were 8 shots that were planted on the targetboard.

After this, we headed back to the hotel and had dinner, and took it easy for the rest of the night. We were going up to the Tiger's Nest the next day, and needed to be well-rested for that.

And here... we... go!

Upon exiting the plane, this banner was the first thing I saw. Upon closer inspection, I saw that it was there to welcome the SAARC delegates, not simply everyone who came through the airport, but hey, that's written in small letters. And yes, that building is the entire airport. I was liking this place already.

I made my way past the Iranian and Indian private jets parked beside us and into the customs office, where I was quickly let through. The architecture was just like that of the buildings I had seen flying in. It was all white paint, huge pillars and colorful detailing everywhere. I made my way outside, where I spotted my guide instantly among the crowd, as he was the only one holding a sign with my name on it. He is a young guy (later I found out he is 25) with a mustache and goatee and hair about the same length as mine, but far more straight. I smiled and said hello, and with surprisingly good English, he greeted me in return and forced me to let him take my bags.

We made our way over to the far parking lot, because, he told me, due to the SAARC conference, they had closed off the main parking lot for delegates. My guide phoned up our driver (oh yes, we have a driver) and told him where we were. While we waited, I simply walked around in circles, taking in the sheer size of all of the mountain surrounding us. Every direction you looked in, there were mountains. And towards the bottom, wherever it was level enough, there was a house or two surrounded by farmland.

Our driver found us quickly, and we loaded up and headed out toward the hotel. On the way, my guide introduced himself and the driver. They are both named Tashi. "Easy for you to remember," my guide said, "only one name. Tashi square."

We headed out along the one-and-a-half lane road for the town. Every time a car was coming from the other direction, we both had to slow down, and move to the side, so that both of us were driving with our left wheels off the road and on the gravel shoulder. If a cow happened to be crossing the road you were on, too bad. Wait your turn. After turning off the main road, none of the streets were paved. Just dirt and gravel, and traveling about the same speed as the people walking outside the car. The roads seem to just kind of have ended up where there was room around the houses and fields and piles of lumber, so they twist and turn a lot, making for pretty slow going. I didn't mind though, as it gave me a great opportunity to get my first glance of what life was like in Bhutan.

What I've found so far is that it's a fascinating mash-up of two different time periods. On one hand, there's the things that wouldn't be out of place if this were the 17th century: chickens running around the streets, people wearing the traditional gho and kira (dresses the men and women, respectively, wear), and farming done without the aid of machinery.

On the other hand, you're just as likely to see a young buddhist monk wearing a headset attached to his cell phone, a man riding a new Kawasaki Ninja (with his 3 year-old sitting in front of him on the gas tank sans-helmet, of course) or a Toyota SUV that looks like someone just stole it from a showroom.

It's a place where a traffic jam is only caused by a pack of horses carrying saddlebags refusing to move off the road, and the men wear Metallica T-shirts under their gho.

After winding our way through the haphazard streets for quite some time, we reached the hotel, the Tenzinling Resort, which was very nice. Once again, I was forced to give up my bags as I was herded inside and my guide and I were served glasses of mango juice while we talked about when dinner would be and what we would be doing for the rest of the day. Even though I had already been up for nearly 8 hours, it was still barely noon in Bhutan.

A Note on Pictures

I'm going to throw in as many pictures as I can in my posts going forward, but I'm obviously not going to be able to put in every single one. I am, however, going to upload all of the good ones to my Picasa account, which you can either check out here, or by clicking on one of the pictures in the "More Pictures" thing on the right side of this page.

I've reduced the file sizes (and thus, the quality) of all of the pictures I'm putting there so I can fit as many as possible, but I think they still look pretty good.

Also, for those who are interested, I'm putting the pictures from Operation Ewok there as well.