Bhutan

There’s a Bengali saying that goes “koshto korle Keshto paye”, roughly insinuating that if one perseveres, one may find the Lord himself.

My mum’s words from days much younger came back to mind while I sat atop the porch of the Lakhang at Lungchutse - 3.5 kms walk up a hill from the Dochulla Pass in Bhutan - and gazed out at an eternity of forested mountains and blue sky trapped behind barricades of long bamboo spears adorning white prayer flags, each one planted in memory of a dead soul.

May 7^th, 2009; I had left Calcutta for Bhutan. It was a long arduous ride from Dharmatallah Bus Stn. to Phuntsholing, Bhutan - that took us about 16 hours - through districts strewn with security forces and the CRPF. The elections had just commenced in North Bengal. Phuntsholing in retrospect is an ordinary border town, with ordinary people, leading ordinary lives. But nothing about Bhutan felt ordinary to me. The first sight of Bhutanese men in their traditional “Go(s)” and women in their “Kira(s)” lent a spring to my step that would only grow stronger as the journey progressed. Anyway for then, my 2 companions and I had lunch at Blue Dragon Hotel, where we also tasted Druk 11000 beer for the first time. Blue Dragon Hotel is right next to Moonlit hotel which our Bhutanese friends later informed us of being a better joint. But to the ignorant traveler, I guess Blue Dragon sounds more exotic as compared to the Moonlit place, hence no regrets.

Our stay here was restricted to the time it took us to get out permits to Thimpu and Paro; and as soon as we were done we left for Thimpu in a share taxi that cost us Rs.400 per head.

** Its inadvisable to ask for permits for places other than Thimpu and Paro at the immigration office in Phuntsholing. From our limited interaction with the officers there we figured that they only had authority to give permits for the aforementioned places and not other restricted areas. Most of Bhutan is Restricted Area for foreigners - permits for such areas are to be acquired from the Immigration office at Thimpu - you’re really lucky if you’re an Indian though. **

At Thimpu we met our hosts and much needed rest in the warmth of a Hotel room booked by our local friends. The ride from Phuntsholing is killing, especially if you’re sharing the back seat of an overcrowded Versa with 3 other people, on a road that feels like the rough edge of a vegetable grater.

Thimpu is the commercial and urban hub of Bhutan. A small town that could easily pass off for an Indian hill station but for their architecture, insane number of drinking places – there’s one with ever general store and restaurant – peace and quiet even during the busiest hours of the day, and a town center carved out at the heart of the city with ample sitting arrangements and an expansive stage/walking area.

We put up at a hotel opposite the town center.

We stayed in Thimpu for another 5 days. We saw the Takin (pronounced Taa-kin) reserve. The Takin is the national animal of Bhutan. It’s supposed to be a cow with a goat’s head. There I’ve told you exactly what it looks like. Now just cover the cow in dark brownish fur and you have your customized herbivore. Guru Kuenley did exactly the same when he was asked to perform a miracle, in ancient Bhutanese mythology. He asked for a full-grown cow and a goat to perform his miracle. Upon being provided with the animals he promptly proceeded to devour them. After his lunch he decided to put the goat’s skull on the cow’s skeleton and lo! You had the Takin.

Spending five days in Thimpu, we got our fair experience of the Bhutanese cuisine. Their staple diet is rice, daal with Datchi or Pa, alongside a local chilly pickle called Aezae. Now Datchis are essentially cheese curry preparations while Pa signifies dry meat. Sicum (pork) and Shakam (beef) are the most commonly found meat in Bhutan. Chicken is banned and eggs are fuck expensive. The predominant vegetables used are Kewa (Potatoes) and Ema (Big Green Chilly). And you have most of Bhutanese cuisine staring at you. So Sicum Pa is Dry Pork whereas if they offer you Shakam Kewa Datchi, you’ll know its beef-potato-cheese curry. Simple. And my favourite.

They also serve Thukpas and Bathus, which are essentially a form of local rice-noodles and soup served with meat of choice.

Amongst beverages, they serve their version of butter tea called Suja. I still prefer the normal tea though. They also make an extremely potent homemade local liquor called Ara which they usually consume with fried eggs. I’m told Bhutanese children pick up the habit of drinking Ara very early on in life due to a standard parental practice of feeding fried eggs soaked in Ara to their children. God I love this country!

Also, if you’re vegetarian, DON’T GO TO BHUTAN.

We further had our brief brushes with Bhutanese Royalty. While all of us had glimpses of their youngest Queen Mother - they have four - and a certain princess through car windshields, one of my companions - Niniel - had a full audience with The King himself. One lazy evening while the other of my companions and myself were busy tasting the local liquors, Niniel found herself at a Basketball match between the Royal Bhutan Army and the Royal Bhutan Guards. The King plays for the latter team. And he played. And she gaped at him for as long as he played. And allegedly, he also waved at her. The author cannot personally testify to the veracity of the last statement.

However this is her story, and I’ll take her word for it.

While still at Thimpu we went to a couple of interesting places. One was Tatskang or The Tiger’s Nest. And the other was Lungchutse, which we came upon quite by chance.

Tatskang is an hour long trek from Paro. It takes you up a hill from where a perilous staircase stuck across the mountain face gets you to the Tatskang Lakhang. Lakhang means Temple or Monastery. Implies a place of worship.

The temple is dedicated to one of Guru Rinpoche’s incarnations. Guru Rinpoche himself is considered to be an incarnation of The Buddha. He was the first scholar to come to Bhutan and establish some sort of order and culture therein. His incarnations have regularly appeared in Bhutan in the form of Gurus and other spiritual leaders. One of them was supposed to deliver Bhutan at a time of conflict. Thus one of Guru Rinpoche’s consorts came to the mountains as a Tigress and took shelter in the mountain face, waiting for the incarnate to appear. I don’t know the rest of the story, but Tatskang gets its name from that tigress. The monks will lead you to a cleft in the mountain that falls into a narrow space in the mountain body just long enough to contain a tiger. That’s the Tiger’s Nest.

Another day we had come for a simple outing to Dochulla, which is the first of the 4 passes that one encounters while traveling eastwards from Thimpu. There is a famous Chottrein (stupa) there with 112 other little chottreins surrounding it. While fooling around on a neighbouring hill I stumbled across a rough signboard that read “Lungchutse 3.5 kms” pointing towards a narrow road going up the hill and disappearing into the forest. Our taxi driver hadn’t heard of the place and even our local friend accompanying us seemed baffled by it. I decided to go find Lungchutse. I had one willing companion and two disgruntled friends who also tagged along.

The trek to Lunghchutse was one of the most memorable one’s of my life. This was not only the most beautiful and awe-inspiring trek through thick mountain forests, but it also turned out to be the only one where I got stuck with no way ahead without any divine intervention.

Ever seen those spooky films where its heavily misty, and there’s a dust trail going up the slope under an umbrella of darkness lent by large trees bent lazily over the pathway; as if completely unaware of the spectacle they create. Well I walked on one of those pathways. After a while it was like finding yourself lost in Middle Earth. Ah! But you’re not lost. Not with them mountain dogs coming to your rescue. We had our own private entourage of 6 shining black mountain dogs walking with us. They played, observed and stopped when we stopped. Resumed when we resumed. They took us up for most of the way. Then 2 of my friends decided that they had had enough of mountain walking. They would wait while the remaining two of us could continue our odyssey up the hill.

About ten – fifteen minutes into our climb we realized that there still seemed to be no end to it, we’d been walking for over an hour and ought to have covered 3.5 kms by now. We urged ourselves on but were about to give up when my friend thought she spotted a black wire in the distance. We had passed noontime and the day was clearing up a bit. There indeed was a wire that our eyes followed to an electricity pole. An Eletricity Pole!! We were definitely getting somewhere. We kept on the climb and soon other poles began appearing in the direction of the path we’d taken. Another 15 minutes climb and we found a Chip Packet wrapper. We were near somewhere, if not maybe Lungchutse then atleast somewhere inhabited. Till now we were the only humans we’d seen.

We kept going till the forest rapidly cleared out into a meadow just below the hilltop. At the top of the hill was another Lakhang and some rickety houses. But our final frontier lay right before us. A herd of full grown Yaks with really sharp horns. Believe me, you don’t want to mess with one of those. They’re big, heavy and fast. Yes, I saw them run, so I know.

We held hands, tried to avoid eye contact, and walk past them. But as soon as one of them made a run for it – not necessarily towards us – we did too. Downhill.

My friend however spotted a speck on the hill and thought it might be a man. So we started screaming for help. It was a man and soon he came down to find out what the problem was. He was the first Bhutanese we met who spoke neither Hindi nor English. He however figured out that we were scared of the Yaks. So he simply walked amongst them and shooed them away, clearing the path for us. My angel, my hero. When I asked for his name all he said was “La!” which means “Yes” in Dzonka.

We made it to the Lakhang on top. We sat there on the cliffside porch for a good ten minutes before resuming our journey downhill. We were shown our way down by a couple of monks who had undertaken the ‘moun vrat’ – pledge of silence. Thus they gestured us to the path we were to take in order to avoid meeting them Yaks again.

The next day we left for Punnakha, but I feel that itself would take up an entire post. Being in Thimpu was the first leg of the travel. Our road trip to the eastern border was to start hereinafter.