An Auspicious Beginning

An Auspicious Weekend: Part I

The death anniversary of Lama Shabdrung Ngawang Namgyal, who in the 17 century unified Himalayan valleys to form the country of Bhutan, is celebrated with a puja. Having expired while meditating at the Punakha Dzong, this grand temple, which also served as a fort many years ago, marks the site of the annual religious ritual. As Shabdrung is considered one of the most important figures in Bhutanese history, his death anniversary is a holiday. Taking advantage of the three day weekend, Heather and I joined other hospital volunteers and co-workers for a trip out of town that was marked with one auspicious event after another. First stop: the beautiful valley of Punakha.

Friends I had made while volunteering at the Punakha District Hospital joined us for dinner Thursday evening. While having a drink at the hotel bar (got to have something to do while waiting 2 hours for dinner to be prepared!) Phuentsho casually mentioned that perhaps service was a bit slow because the staff was preparing for His Majesty's entourage to arrive that night. I was ecstatic! While His Majesty would not be slumbering in the same hotel as I, it was rumored he would appear at the puja the following morning. Phuentsho promised to call me the next day with his estimated arrival time. (It's a small world here ... people know people who know people who have some key information!)

Despite the luxury of the hotel bed, complete with soft sheets and a feather pillow, it wasn't hard to get up early Friday morning. After my walk and seated meditation by the river, I quickly showered, applied my makeup, and threw on some sweatpants and a tank. With a few of my best kiras in hand, I marched downstairs to Reception and kindly requested the woman at the front desk please help me get dressed (this was the first time I was hoping to wear a proper kira without my Bhutanese girlfriends nearby to dress me in it!) She chose what she thought to be the best kira for the occasion, whisked me into the bathroom, and ten minutes later, I emerged in traditional Bhutanese dress donned with just the right touch. Having planned ahead, I presented her with a small token of thanks I had brought along, and then joined the others to depart for the puja.

Crowds of men in ghos and women in kiras walked along the roadside to reach the dzong. Robes of red swayed in the gentle breeze as monks circled the grounds. Step by step over the historic bridge we crossed the merging point of the Mo Chhu and Po Chhu (mother and father rivers) to reach the Punakha Dzong.

Pujas were being held within the sanctuaries of the dzong. I joined the local worshippers in circling the inner perimeter, paying respects to the manifestations of the Buddha and saying my own prayers to meet the intentions I had set that morning. This day I dedicated to a very special patient whose lifetime had just ended, a woman I came to care for deeply despite only connecting with her on this physical earth for a very short while ... for her soul to be resting peacefully, and for her children to have the strength to find light in every day.

Bhutanese continued into additional rooms of the dzong where special prayers were being held, while my Western friends and I were politely requested to wait in the outer courtyard. Spiritual energy was abundant as prayers were repeated over and over, until one by one, all worshippers assembled in the courtyard.

Snap!
Snap!
A head monk in orange robes had appeared at the outer doorway of the main sanctuary. Repeatedly a leather whip by the side of his body was cracked, the harsh sound bringing monks out from every corner of the dzong. One by one the monks filed into the prayer room, and silence came over the crowd. Officials reminded us (with special attention paid to the foreigners!) that photos were now prohibited, and I felt myself rising up on my toes in anticipation of the arrival of Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuck, Fifth King of Bhutan.

His Majesty entered the courtyard, walked through the aisle created by the crowd of a few hundred Bhutanese and seven foreigners, and turned back around at the top of the stairs to briefly connect with his fellow worshippers. Stepping into the sanctuary now filled with Buddhist monks, cymbals clashed, bells were rung, and prayers had begun.


Pictured above: 1) Myself, Karma, Pema, Phuentsho, Heather, and Marija outside the entrance to the dzong, 2) Monks filing into the inner sanctuary

Next Up: Friday night through Saturday continued to turn over auspicious events as we drove through mud, hailstorms, and pushed a Bolero along a windy edge of a cliff!

Picknicking with the Physios

I have never seen a stroller in Bhutan. Babies are carried on the backs of their older siblings, parents, and grandparents everywhere they go. "Barra," my student, Sonam, told me this act was called. As soon as I arrived to the JDWNR Hospital Physiotherapy Department picnic, 3 women immediately carried Jitson over to show me how one day I should use a scarf to fasten a baby on my back!

Last minute planning is not uncommon in Bhutan. I learned about this picnic Sunday morning at 7:30am through a wake up call from my student, Lhakpa. "Madam, are you ready for the picnic? We've gathered here at the hospital." Am I ready?! Of course I'm not ready! I'm still in bed! Showered and dressed by 10:00am, Heather and I joined the other physios who overslept or were also unaware of the picnic until the morning of, and together we wound up the mountain to reach Hongtsho.

Stepping onto an open area of the forest that had been transformed into our picnic grounds, I quickly recognized why 7:30am had been the call time. Marking the center of our land, a pile of heavy stones supported the logs that had just been chopped off of the surrounding trees. Ablaze with fire, cauldrons were set atop our man made stove, boiling water fetched from the nearby river. People were in action everywhere! Kneeling over pages of newspapers, one physio set out slices of onions and chili while another chopped asparagus. Carrots and cucumbers were peeled, cut, and tossed into a bucket to mix together for a fresh salad. Aloo dum (potato curry) was in the making as people grated ginger, chopped garlic, and heated soyabean oil to richly combine the ingredients with a nice saute. Having been boiled over the fire, cha (tea) together with sweet biscuits were offered around as we chatted and prepared the lunch.

We feasted on a variety of traditional Bhutanese dishes. Some enjoyed beef curry, dried fish, and eggs hard boiled then fried, and others preserved vegetarianism with rice and vegetable/cheese curries. I was thankful to have been advised ahead of time to bring my own plates and cutlery, but could have eaten off of the lids to pots with my hands just like some of the Bhutanese!

As we picknicked, natural incense (branches of trees lit with fire) sent smoke signals into the sky "to keep God happy", and students chanted prayers to keep the rain away. The fire pit continued to burn, and music began to play. Tunes of rigzar (contemporary Bhutanese music) set the stage for the women to dance freestyle while the men stepped aside for games of rock throwing and football.

Giggling and taking silly videos of one another, we took turns leading dances prior to persuading the men to join us. Coming together in a large circle, rigzar was replaced by traditional Bhutanese folk music. Holding hands, we sang and danced the afternoon away. Translations of the songs revealed messages of karma, reincarnation and goodwill to all. Slowly the circle opened and we shifted over to the fire, where we closed it hand in hand. One by one, my co-workers took turns speaking and dedicating this celebration to Heather and me in recognition of our volunteer work at JDWNR Hospital. Sanga, Head of the Physio Department and baby Jitson's father, played a farewell song on his wooden flute marking the end of our picnic. The wind gently carried the tunes up into the sky, and serenity was within and all around me. It was then that I realized this was only the beginning of my lifelong connection to the country of Bhutan and her beautiful people. My darling students asked that I return to Bhutan someday, and suggested that I come with a baby on my back!

(Photo snapped by Sonam Wangmo).

Welcome to Bhutan, Stanley!

Druk Air Flight KB123 landed at the Paro International Airport on Saturday, the 13th of March. Having been given the privilege to go through Customs as an official guest of the Ministry of Health, Stanley was one of the first to step off the plane and enter the Land of the Thunder Dragon. Silently expressing gratitude to the dasho ("noble man") who had signed off on his visa application just eight days prior, I was happy to welcome my big brother to the Kingdom of Bhutan!

Having lived in developing countries for many years himself, Stanley knew exactly what he could bring over to Bhutan to make me one very happy girl. My eyes widened as he pulled the items out of his suitcase I no longer take for granted ... Starbucks instant coffee, organic granola, dental floss, ziploc bags, and a plastic container with a secure lid!

Stanley and I enjoyed daily life in Thimphu together. We walked down to the river to shop at the Weekend Market for fresh vegetables, fruit, and handicrafts. Our afternoons were spent reading and writing at local coffeeshops or enjoying walks through the Himalayan Hills. At monasteries we had our questions about Buddhism answered by the monks in residence. We took my students out to a Western style restaurant for dinner (we ordered pizza; they ordered fried rice!) and Stanley answered several of their questions regarding the inclusion of Gross National Happiness in his International Peace Studies Master's Degree program at the International University of Japan. We explored Thimphu nightlife at the Om Bar and had a dinner party for mutual friends of friends (leave it to my brother to have friends all over the world!)

It was so great having his company here in Thimphu, and I also looked forward to travelling through Bhutan together. Stanley joined me on my trip to Punakha, where he was welcomed as a guest to the District Hospital and immediately given the opportunity to meet the administration and go on a tour. After duty, led by our new friends from the hospital, Phuentsho and Karma, we took a long walk through the peaceful valley. Across rivers and over suspension bridges we were surrounded by fields of rice paddies at the base of green hills. Monks of all ages crossed our paths, as at the junction of the Mu Chuu and Pu Chuu (male and female rivers) sits the grand Punakha Dzong, or the "Palace of Great Happiness". Stanley and I were invited into our friend Pheuntsho's home, where a delicious homemade Bhutanese meal was prepared for our lunch just prior to our departure.

We returned to our daily routine in Thimphu (actually, I skipped our trip to Bumthang, the holiest site in Bhutan ... given that Stanley got quite sick and could do no sightseeing, there's just not a whole to mention!). So back to Thimphu, where a few days rest and homemade meals brought back good health!

We were fortunate to be in Bhutan at the time of the annual Paro tsechu. I donned one of my best kiras, and 5 Bhutanese boys dressed Stanley in a gho at the stalls outside of the Weekend Market. Along with my friend and fellow HVO volunteer, Heather, we took a 1 hour taxi ride to Paro set to beats on tape of Celine Dion and Michael Jackson! Upon arrival to the festival, we joined locals wishing for blessings and tourists wishing for cultural lessons and colorful photos. Bhutanese dressed in elaborate costumes complete with masks told stories through dances in the outside courtyard of the dzong. The inner courtyard and sanctuary are often closed to foreigners, but my status as a hospital volunteer paid off as were immediately welcomed with utmost respect. Inside, a monk befriended Stanley and casually fixed every wrinkle that had formed in his gho. He then turned his attention to me, instructing me in how to better hold my kira when descending narrow, wobbly stairs. For a moment I was confused and perhaps even a little put off by a man telling me how to hold my skirt, but I quickly realized I was much less likely to trip when applying his technique. Stanley gently pointed out to me that this monk negotiates the uneven terrain in a skirt everyday!

For the first time in my life, I'm happy to say that I was able to translate for my very linguistically accomplished brother (“Ama, par chi tabgaymay?” which I hope translates from Dzongkha to English as: “Mother” (casually used for any woman) “Can I please take your picture?”) and I hope that I was able to host him just as well. As the Bhutanese would say, “I think he enjoyed his time in Bhutan.” Having family share this experience with me was invaluable (and logging onto Skype together we were able to share it even further with our sister, parents, and aunt!) Kadinche La Stanley! I had such a great time.

Saturday Evening Cooking Lessons

Joining my friend Simran for the preparation and enjoyment of homemade dinners has taught me the essentials of Bhutanese cooking. I'd like to share with you the recipes for a few of my favorite dishes: red rice, eggplant curry, shamu datse, and ezay. Careful of the chilis!

Red Rice:
Grown in the Himalayan valley, this short grain rice is high in protein and fiber. After purchasing the rice from a large bin at the market on Saturdays, I regularly prepare red rice as a staple for many of my dinners and even a few of my breakfasts. If I could transport more than 20kg back on my Druk Air flight, these local grains would be in my bags!
1 cup rice: 1 cup water
Cook in rice cooker for ~20 minutes

Eggplant Curry
Together in a wok, combine:
- A few spoonfuls of soyabean oil
- A bit of diced red onion
- A few chopped garlic cloves
- A few eggplants cut into small strips(I like the really narrow shaped eggplant, but have never seen these in the U.S. The Japanese version might be nice)
- Just a bit of chopped tomato
- Green chilis to taste: Chop into small pieces for the spiciest version, or cut in half and remove the seeds for just a little heat!
- A few spoonfuls of water
- Salt to taste
- On a light heat, cover and allow the curry to saute until the vegetables are tender. (For extra protein, I added in tofu at home, as pictured above).

Shamu Datse
"Ema Datse", or "Chili Cheese" is the most common and traditional of all Bhutanese food. Likely because of the natural growth of chilis throughout the country and ease of procuring cheese from the local cows, this dish is often all that is available out in the villages. I have come to love the homemade version of "Shamu Datse", where mushrooms are added to this Bhutanese staple.
- In a pot, combine a bit of onion and garlic with your favorite mushrooms and add a few spoonfuls of soyabean oil.
- Fill the pot with water just until the vegetables have become nearly immersed.
- With a lid on, boil until the vegetables are nearly tender.
- In the last 5 minutes of the cooking, add chilis and cheese (best to use the outer portions of the datse) and continue boiling.
Local cheese from the local cows is used for this dish in Bhutan ... I'll definitely be experimenting with alternatives in the States!

Ezay
This cheese and chili salad is a nice complement to any meal.
Chop finely:
- a bit of red onion
- a bit of garlic
- roasted chilis (red or green - can roast them just over the fire of a stove)
- tomatoes (also tasty if roasted)
Mix together, and add fresh cheese (the inner portion of the datse is best) and salt to taste. Serve immediately.

The main principles of Bhutanese cooking are simplicity and just "knowing" how much of each ingredient to use rather than measuring ... So experiment and enjoy! Would love to hear how your dishes turn out!

Sleeping Bags, Nightclubs, and Sacred Rituals

Perhaps nowhere else in the world could a weekend include dancing at nightclubs, slumbering at a farmhouse, and witnessing sacred dances performed inside a Buddhist temple ... my weekend in Punakha with a few of my favorite Bhutanese girlfriends did just so!

Thinley picked me up Friday at 5pm, and with two bags packed for one night (refer to "Travelling through the Backroads of Bhutan" for the list justifying my two bags!), we headed across town to pick up Yiki. Stopping for gifts of tea, sugar and biscuits for our hostess, we set out for our drive up and across the Dochu La Pass to lead us down into the Punakha Valley.

"Do you want to go out in Punakha town tonight Detta?!" Already having had to ask Thinley to pull over on the side of the road so that I could avoid puking in her car (note to self ... I am not yet used to the windy roads in Bhutan and I do need to continue to take dramamine every time I step into a moving vehicle...) I couldn't possibly imagine going out! I did my best though to keep an open mind while focusing on my breathing and listening to the soothing sounds of Tracy Chapman. I also couldn't help but wonder what kind of "going out" we might find in this Punakha town knowing we were staying at Yiki's aunt's farmhouse ...although sick to my stomache, I was intrigued!

We arrived three hours later to find we had to park a bit far away. I took one step at a time on the trail from the roadpoint. I practiced walking meditation and with each breath, my feelings of health and wellness gradually returned. With that came confidence as we negotiated a make-shift ladder and log placed above a small ravine in the pitch black of night. After fifteen minutes of walking, we had safely arrived to the farmhouse in the warm and fertile land of Punakha. Yiki's auntie graciously served us tea followed by a dinner of rice, shamu datse and ezay complemented by the nutritional delicacy of whey. After dinner, we were on our way out for the night!

Escorted down the trail by a young man also going out into town, we were guided by him and his friends to the new club. The guys went to play snooker, and Yiki, Thinley and I entered the club. While the ambience was awesome, we hesitated and then laughed a bit when we saw there were only three other people in the club! Deciding to check it out anyway, we ordered our drinks and over hip hop and electronica, pretended to converse with the other patrons of the club under the pretense that I understood Dzongkha. We tried to take pictures of the red and green strobe lights projecting images that appeared to form rotating galaxies on the floor but were unsuccessful. We then just danced by ourselves until the lack of social company drove us to move onto the other club in town. Entering the main bar-cum-club in Punakha town with our drinks from the first bar in hand, we talked our way into free admission to the club and this time found no one!! After sitting for a few minutes, we decided that if it's going to be just the three of us chatting or dancing, we may as well just be back home in our pajamas.

And so back along the trail and to the farmhouse we went! After painting our nails and laying out our sleeping bags, we slept until the early dawn.

I stepped out of our sleeping quarters and was amazed at the sights in front of me. Having arrived in the dark, I had no idea that I was staying in one of the most beautiful places I've ever been. Green rice paddies at the edge of the farmhouse stretched to the base of the nearby mountain hoisting vertically placed white prayer flags. Pale yellow poinsettia trees lined the path from our sleeping quarters to the outhouse. Cows roamed the fields where eggplant, tomatoes, and mushrooms grew. The natural environment surrounding us provided our meals which consisted of some of the freshest tasting rice, vegetables and cheeses I've ever tasted. I was in one of the most environmentally pristine places on earth.

After taking turns showering with buckets of hot water mixed with the cold running tap, we began the process of donning our kiras. Having chosen to wear my best kira, which is not tailored as a "foreigner fit" but requires complicated ties to ensure proper wear, Thinley and Yiki got themselves ready and then together dressed me. Savoring the moment of being in this beautiful land hosted by such a gracious Bhutanese woman, I said good bye and Kadinche La (thank you) to our hostess. With one hand holding up our floor length kiras and high heeled boots donned, an hour and a half later than we had promised ourselves (what to expect when three girls are getting themselves ready in the morning?!) we traversed the path one more time to reach the road that would lead us to the Punakha Dzong. (http://www.bhutantoursandtravels.com/pages/show/_14_punakha.htm)

Crossing the bridge and cautiously climbing the vertically aligned steps leading up to the dzong, I entered one of the most sacred houses of worship in Bhutan. As we walked through the courtyard into the inner sanctuary, we discovered that the Domchen was just beginning. Amidst butterlamps and relics of the Buddhas, the most sacred dance of the festival had commenced to the sounds of deeply ringing bells. Deep down I felt that this must be one of the many magnificent ways of connecting the earth to the heavens ...

Prostrating and asking for healing and peace while also giving thanks for my presence at this holy dzong, Yiki, Thinley and I departed the gorgeous valley of Punakha and returned safely home to Thimphu.

Celebrating the Losar

Celebrations of the Bhutanese New Year began with butter tea and sweet rice. The Buddhist altar was adorned with biscuits and candies in addition to the traditional butter lamps and incense. I felt so honored and grateful to be able to join my co-worker and her family as they rang in the New Year together. The twelve hour celebration marking the beginning of the Year of the Iron Male Tiger was centered around spending time with family, ensuring that offerings of food and drink were plentiful in order to stave off any hunger or thirst in the upcoming year. Sudja (butter tea) and sweet tea were alternately served throughout the day. Traditional Bhutanese dishes were enjoyed for breakfast, lunch, and dinner at various family members' homes in town. Between meals, children played video games, teenagers went bowling in town, adults chatted, and the popular Bhutanese card game of "Marriage" was played. I joined the teenagers for bowling in the afternoon, and it's a good thing I broke 100, because later on I failed miserably at the game of Marriage with the adults!

The day gave me such an incredible opportunity to experience the celebrations of the Losar so intimately. There were moments during the day's gathering that a certain activity (such as the young children playing games with their aunties) or food (such as the biscuits that looked and tasted nearly identical to the Lithuanian ausukes my family prepares every Christmas Eve) made me so reminiscent of home. As time has gone on, I've become more and more aware that one of the most influential teachings I seem to be taking from the Bhutanese culture is the importance of family. I know that my time spent physically away from family and friends while in Bhutan is actually meant to strengthen my relationships upon my return to the States, and for this, I am so very grateful.

Happy New Year! Tashi Delek!

Where India Sweeps into Bhutan

Seven hours of winding ascending and descending roads on a coaster across the Himalayan mountain ranges eventually brought me to the plains of Southern Bhutan. Upon arrival to the hotel, a snack of afternoon Indian style pakoras held me over until the beginning of the celebration of Losar, the Bhutanese New Year, where I joined the family of a local friend in a feast of shamu datse (mushrooms and cheese), ema datse (chilies and cheese), and heaping piles of rice, all the while seated in a Buddhist altar room amidst the burning of one hundred and eight butter lamps.

The blend of Indian and Bhutanese cultures was clear in Phuentsholing … the ease with which I’ve become comfortable walking the streets of Thimpu was immediately jostled upon my arrival to this border town. The cleanliness, organization of business interactions, and respect for personal space I’ve come to know in Bhutan was altered by the bustling dynamics of neighboring India. Phuentsholing, at the southern tip of Bhutan, serves not only as the main entry and exit point to India, but also, to the rest of the world.

Walking the streets of Phuentsholing, I marveled at the availability of both Indian and Bhutanese food, apparel, and sights. Men in ghos walked side-by-side with women in saris. Saris hung over balconies to dry; kiras were offered at a lower price than what you might find in Thimpu. Fixed prices existed on the Bhutanese side of the border; prices started at double what the shopkeepers hoped to receive on the Indian side.

Maintaining a tight grip on the official notice from the Medical Director of National Referral Hospital stating that Ms. Bernadette Currier, American Citizen, has been granted permission to exit and re-enter the Kingdom of Bhutan between 16 and 18 January 2010, I cautiously stepped through the border gate to enter Jaigaon, India. My auditory, visual, and kinesthetic senses heightened as I was consumed by the energy of India. Small children cradled half naked babies with one arm while sticking the palm of their other arm out towards me in hopes of receiving money. Electricity at the shops flickered on and off. Consumers walked away if the offered prices were not being met halfway, only to turn back around as the haggling performed in either the Hindi or Nepali language continued on.

I tried on close to ten Bhutanese kiras until I found my perfect fit. Although the choices were slim, the material was soft, so I purchased a package of hot pink bed sheets with little teddy bears on top ... after later examining my package, I only wished I had gotten two sets rather than the one, since one set evidently only comes with one, not two, sheets for the bed. After picking up a few other items that could not be brought from the United States and were quite expensive to purchase having been imported to Thimpu, I completed my shopping with the help of my girlfriend who bargained down the prices from those offered to foreigners, to those offered to foreigners in the company of locals.

We made our way back to the border, and my documents were just briefly looked at before being offered re-entry into the Kingdom of Bhutan. After crossing the gate into Bhutan where we enjoyed an Indian lunch, I visited the local Kharbandi Monastery. There I offered gifts of butter and incense, spun prayer wheels, and received blessings from a Buddhist monk. Nestled on top of a hill, I had a bird's eye view of the Indian/Bhutanese border, where people and cultures seemingly blend to make the world a smaller place. I eventually found myself back on the coaster traversing passes of the Himalayas, stopping every so often to get out of the bus and walk across bridges that were not designed to uphold the weight of a bus transporting twenty plus people across the rivers. Together, as a group of Bhutanese, Indians, and one American, we safely returned to Thimpu. Dressed in my new kira at work the next day, I received more compliments on my Bhutanese dress than I ever have wearing my locally bought kiras ... evidently, my shopping trip to India was successful!