Hiking

At the risk of raising everyone’s false hopes that I am starting to blog more often, I have to write about my hike today while the experience is still fresh. I left the dirty dishes and the wet, dirty clothes for tomorrow morning. Tonight, I will DOCUMENT MY EXPERIENCE. (shout out to Brooke ;) )

If I have ever hiked in my life, it was today. Today is a national holiday, which means no school for me. A friend, Ugyen, planned a hike to a “nearby” monastery with her class of 34 8^th grade students and invited me along. I was really excited because I see the monastery everyday and have been meaning to visit, but have never made the time. So this was the perfect way to spend my holiday.

Ugyen has done this hike before and knew we needed to start early. We met at 5:45am and started out on our journey around 6:00am. The plan was to hike down to the river in the valley, cross at the bridge, hike up the other side to the monastery, and then make our way down to a nunnery at the end of the hill. After visiting the nunnery, we would follow the trail back to the bridge and follow the trail back up to Thinleygang.

6:00am start, ready to go. 

The first 1-2 hours were great. Although a little sleepy from the early wake-up call, spirits were high and everyone was exited to reach the monastery and have tea. Even while climbing the steep hill and feeling the burn in our lungs and thighs, we were happy. This is what we expected; we were mentally prepared for this.

Up, up, up we went.

Finally, we reached the monastery around 10:00am. Because of the holiday today, the monks had prepared tea and juice for the visitors. Everyone took their turn prostrating themselves, making offerings, and saying their prayers. After 45 minutes at the monastery, we hit the road again. This time our path led strait down just for a few minuets before turning left and becoming a relatively flat trail.

For anyone who doesn’t know, this past summer my job involved leading teenagers on service trips. As a trip leader, we are trained in risk management. Today, this hike involved taking the students out of the safety of the hostel and on a hike into the forest. So, already, I could hear Jim’s (my boss's) voice in my head telling me about group management and how to be safe. Our group split up into many small groups on the way from the monastery to the nunnery and that was the first time (albeit not the last) on this hike when I began to seriously doubt how safe we were being. In the end, this leg of our journey took about 3 hours. We had small groups of eighth graders wandering the forest alone heading in a general direction.

It was about two hours from the monastery when my small group of students and I realized that we were definitely lost. I had to assume that Ugyen was with all of the other students on the right path. Where we went wrong, no one seems to know. But what I do know is we ended up in a village on the wrong side of the hill and had gone way out of our way.

Not the nunnery, but there are worse places to be lost :)

Fine, that was fine at the time. I figured we would walk a little bit, find the path again and be to the nunnery in no time. Boy was I wrong. Not long after that I got a call from Ugyen saying that she had also lost the trail and that she was with only two students.

One sentiment that I’ve become very familiar with since being in Bhutan is “but what to do?”. The people here use it when the situation is unfavorable, or they are struggling a lot with something. They are using it in a way that signifies: well this sucks, but we can’t do anything about it so oh well. That is exactly what we said when we discovered that our once solid, single group had broken up and, most likely, everyone else was also lost. What to do but continue on.

Eventually we found a road that a couple of the students were familiar with and they knew that we could follow it in the right direction. After 30 minutes of walking on this road, a pickup truck drove by with about 10 of our students standing in the back hooting and hollering. They stopped farther down the road and my companions and I also jumped in. By that time it was 1:00pm and all of our legs desperately needed a rest and our bodies needed food.

Eventually, our entire group made it to the nunnery, although no one made it without getting lost first. But the good news is that we had made it! The worst part of the day surely was over.

Group picture, but don't look for me- I am the "official photographer."

We visited the temple, ate lunch, rested our bodies before continuing our hike back home. When we set out from the nunnery, we could see the path that we were meant to take, and headed that way. I was bringing up the caboose and assumed everything was going fine until some girls ahead of me stopped to rest and we discovered that the front half of our group had gone ahead and we were now separated again.

Well, no matter. I am trying to do my job as the caboose and if Ugyen let some kids go ahead, she knows better than I do. So my smaller group and I kept trudging along. Eventually, we found ourselves walking along the side of a little water canal. About an hour out from the nunnery the boys in the front stopped, yelled to the back that there was “no way” (as in there is no path, no way to go through). Well we couldn’t go down the hill, next to us was a dangerous drop off and we couldn’t exactly go up the hill due to cliffs. When I got closer, I saw what the boys were talking about. The water canal that we had been following bridged a deep valley with a little water bridge. So we were lost again. I’m not sure whose idea it was, (probably one of the boys) but all of a sudden students were taking shoes off to wade their way across the bridge. There were about four students on the far side when a girl who had crossed began screaming bloody murder. With my heart racing I started yelling over to her to try to see what was wrong. Thank goodness it was only leeches. From that point forward, every 10-15 minuets one of the girls would start screaming from finding leeches on their ankles and legs. I’ve never had a leech on me before, and I never knew how strong their grip is! Or how they wiggle their way up your leg! They truly are disgusting creatures.

So after forging the water bridge, we put on wet socks and shoes and continued. The leeches continued to plague us, and we still were not sure if the other half of the students were safe. But, what to do? Another hour closer to home and again boys in the front were calling back, “No way, no way”.

This time it turned out to be a fallen tree. I assumed this would be easier to get through than the water bridge, but was soon proven wrong. The tree was slippery! And too big to completely straddle while using feet to anchor ourselves to the ground. So with a lot of help, and the acceptance that our feet would land in the leech-infested water on the other side, we became true tree-huggers.

Following, following, following the water canal we continued until we reached the river at the bottom of the valley. At this point, our once sunny sky had become dark and threatening. This was not the bridge we meant to cross, but due to the big rocks blocking our way, we had no choice but to wade across here. This is when it started raining. I made it about half way, jumping from rock to rock, before accepting my wet fate. Of course I’m too ambitious to give up that easily, so I made a jump for another rock that was mostly submerged in water, slipped, and fell right to the bottom of the river. Of course all of the students were very concerned for me and came running through the water to help me. I was fine, until I heard thunder and saw lightening.

Once again, those RLT instincts kicked in and I started yelling for everyone to get out of the water. But then this only made people try to move faster, resulting on them sipping on rocks and falling down deeper into the river. If I hadn’t been concerned for their safety, I would have laughed for a long time over that.

Thankfully, we all made it out on the other side of the river. Wet, but alive. Now we had to find a trail that would lead us back to the road. Eventually we did, and climbed back up toward our town. The rain never stopped and by the time I made it home I was very cold. I arrived home at exactly 6:15 pm. making this a 12-hour hike. The hike finished with my friend saying, “I hope you are not unhappy. It is very likely we will have a fever tomorrow”.

Nerve-racking and exhausting, but still the best hike that I’ve ever been on. I’m not sure that I’ve laughed so much in one day since being here.

On a final note, as I lay in bed writing this, I discovered a bloody ankle and a dead leech stuck to me. And that is AFTER taking a shower.

 

Spring

I’ll start by saying that yes, I felt the earthquake, but myself along with everyone I love here in Bhutan are totally safe. The experience was pretty crazy for me, having never felt an earthquake before. It felt like I was standing on a floating dock (the kind they have at GL country club) on a wavy day. A wild realization was that it was the solid earth under my feet doing that, not water. It didn’t last long here in Bhutan and, in my community at least, there is no damage. We were very lucky. However, keep those who died or who are injured in Nepal and India in your prayers.

Now a chunky transition on to more positive topics:

Spring here is such a beautiful season.  – I warned you. I’m not a skilled enough writer to make that transition smooth - Although my friends claim that we are being cheated out of spring and jumping right from winter to summer this year, I don’t mind. It’s still beautiful to me.

I realize everyday that I’m in one of the most beautiful places in the world. If I don’t realize it, I remind myself. I have to, or the 5 am alarm for “Teacher On Duty” days; the students who would like nothing better than to be the center of attention everyday – even if it means being the center of attention while being disciplined; the Saturdays when I remember that everyone at home is enjoying their weekend while I’m still at work (yes we have a half day of school on Saturday); it would all get me down. And believe me, some days it tries to get me down.

But then I look up at the mountains, or down at the vegetable gardens that surround life here and remember where I am and how fleeting this experience is.

My mother told me once that she loves the look of farms. It gives her a sense of security to see massive fields of food growing. I never understood or appreciated that sentiment until now. I’ve stopped looking up at the mountains and started looking down at the farms. How the people of Bhutan have managed to engineer farming on the side of mountains is beyond me, but I am so grateful that they have. Forget about the fact that it provides the food that sustains my life, but the fields are an intricate part of the landscape here. The fields themselves are split into little puzzle pieces falling down the side of the hills and mountains. Inside each field, the soil is plowed and the vegetables planted in rows that turn these farms into textiles. I’ve never before seen the beauty in gardening.

When I first arrived in Thinleygang everywhere I turned there were greens being sold or given to me for free and I ate them almost everyday. That lasted for about two, maybe three, weeks. Now I can’t find them anywhere in town. Their growing season is early spring, before the bugs come to eat their leaves. So now there are new vegetables planted in the gardens and they are just starting to grow.

I realized the other day that it’s already the end of April. I did the math, and I’ve been here for three months. Some days three months feels like nothing, and other days it feels like everything. During the highs I’m afraid for my limited amount of time left here. And during the lows I make an effort to remind myself how little time I have left here.  Bhutan is a land-locked country and once I leave (be it in December, or four years from now) I’ll never be able to experience Bhutan like this again. Sure, I have the opportunity to return as a tourist, but that would be a drastically different experience, lacking the freedom I enjoy so much. 

 

Last Sunday, April 19, my friend Ugyen and I went to the Rhododendron festival. It is a cultural festival that is named for the budding rhododendron flowers. Our students performed dances, skits, and sold homemade gifts. 

Also being sold were traditional Bhutanese dishes. I don't know the Dzongkha word for this, but it's some type of rice pancake with sauce on top of it. I haven't done any better of a job describing it than the picture would have on its own. But no one I was with knew what goes into preparing this dish. It was tasty though :). 

At the festival, there were yak herders selling their goods as well. This yak was standing still as a statue, until I raised my camera to take a picture of it. Then it tried to charge me. In that moment I was more scared than I've been since coming to Bhutan. Thankfully it was tied up and the rope stopped it from running me down! 

The festival was held at a botanical garden about 40 min. from my village. This is my friend Ugyen and I with our homemade necklaces bought from the greening club. 

Then, this Saturday, April 25, we had a school rimdro. This is just like the puja that my house had - a religious holiday meant for prayer and to make offerings to the Gods. This is the alter inside a tent set up on our assembly ground. The alter consists of offerings to the Gods including bowls of water, butter candles, food, wine, and more. Everything seen here has more meaning than I can describe here, or that I completely understand. 

Guru Rinpoche is a Buddhist saint who first came to Bhutan around 700AD and is responsible for bringing Buddhism to Bhutan. 

I tried to sneak this picture of the reincarnation of Guru Rinpoche. He is the head of the Bhutanese church, but currently is still young, studying in a monastery here in Bhutan. 

Another ritual of rimdro is the fire. People burned money, prayers written on paper, nails, and hair. It is believed that burning your nails and hair in this blessed fire will bring good fortune. I didn't throw any money into the fire, but I did pluck out one of my hairs to be burned. 

One of the monks pouring offerings into the fire. 

The disaster management team assembling students on the basketball court after the earthquake. 

Other than ema datshi, I'd say the most offered traditional food here is suja - butter tea. This is how the Bhutanese churn up the butter and salt before adding it to the tea. This is the one Bhutanese dish that I avoid if possible. 

Friends and I during the rimdro. 

Students here love quotes. Classrooms are full of them. 

A couple cuties using all their might to turn the prayer wheel on campus. 

I told you the farms are beautiful didn't I? 

A glimpse down into the valley during a morning walk. 

These little guys are all over right now. Caterpillars and clovers are everywhere I look. I am constantly looking down hoping to find a 4-leaf clover. So far no luck. (pun intended ;) )

Pictures & Notes

Sometimes writing these blogs is easy and there are things I know I want to say. And then other times a lot of things have happened that I could talk about, but I can't write a blog explaining them. The past two weeks have been like that.

I've realized that I have taken so many pictures since being here but I've only uploaded a few. So, since I don't have the words, I'll let the pictures talk for me. I'll even go back in time to pictures I took when I first got here to shed a little more light on my life here.

(I was just looking at this post and discovered that if you click on the pictures they actually get bigger. Who knew?? ...  you probably did)

This is the vegetable market in Paro. The vegetable market that I go to in Bajo looks very similar. I've gone to the vegetable market in Bajo twice now and always stock up on produce. When that runs out, I buy vegetables from Thinleygang. The vegetables in Thinleygang are not very good though and I buy just enough to hold me over until I can get into town again. 

Truck drivers here put so much effort into decorating their trucks. Some even have colorful lights that decorate their trucks for night driving. 

The wood carving in the Dzongs and for many religious articles, such as alters in peoples houses, is incredibly intricate. This is a closeup of a beam in the Dzong below. 

This Dzong is being built in Bumthang. Because it's still in the early stages of being built, we were able to take pictures inside. It's almost all hand carved wood. 

The god of judgement - taken at Punakha Tshechu. On either side of him is a man dressed in all black and a man dressed in all white to signify the good and evil forces in our lives. 

This is one of my favorite pictures I took while in Gasa. The cows here in Bhutan always appear so forlorn - as if they don't know they are standing in arguably the most beautiful place in the world.  

It finally started to rain during the past two weeks. The dust is settling and everything is becoming greener, making this place somehow more beautiful - taken from my balcony. 

The girls and I had to stop one day on our morning walk to school to admire the monastery sitting amongst the trees and clouds.  

Dechentsemo had the Minister of Education pay a visit to our school last week. I asked Dawa (far left) to borrow a ratchu - a ceremonial scarf. She asked which kira I planned to wear for the Minister's visit and then decided that I not only needed a ratchu but an entire outfit, jewelry and all. 

Fellow teachers and I waiting to welcome the Minister of Education to our school. The minister talked to us about the initiatives being taken my the ministry and their 10-year plan to revamp education here in Bhutan.  - more on that to come in a later post. 

By the way, no one here actually smiles in pictures. So if the future pictures of me are lacking a smile, it's because I always feel like a grinning fool standing next these people.  

In order to welcome the Minister, all of the teachers lined up at the school gate. The Minister's car parked just outside the gate and he walked down the line, shaking hands with all of the teachers. 

Lhendup Dorji proud of his egg masterpiece on Easter Sunday. 

Actually painting Easter eggs, rather than dying them, was really neat because it allowed the kids to get creative and use details. This is a mountain landscape that Kinley Pem painted on her egg. 

A few finished eggs and our palette. 

The kids were very excited and quite amused at the idea of painting eggs.  They didn't realize until the end of the day that the eggs were hard-boiled and that they got to eat them after. 

The finished product - beautiful eggs and a group of proud budding artists. 

During tutoring, Tshring started playing with my hair - which I obviously encouraged. Unfortunately it turned into an entire makeover for me. 

Yesterday at school, my friend Lhamo organized a student - parent debate. It was a really cool event where parents who live in our community came by to express their opinions on hot youth-related topics and the students were able to replay with their own views. 

In honor of sibling day that was sometime this week, here is a picture of my family according to one of my students. Just me and my two brothers, enjoying life in our Gho's and Kira's as always. 

And the farthest throwback, to Feb 3. 

A few other notes that I don't have pictures of:

1. The family that owns my house had a Puja last week – or a religious gathering where family comes into town and they pray a lot, sit around and talk, and eat a lot of food. Not far off of what I would have done with my own family if I had been home for Easter, which makes their Puja perfectly timed. I was invited to join them for dinner and even joined them in some post-dinner traditional dancing. 

2. Sam Blyth and a group of BCF’ers and other Canadians also paid Thinleygang a visit. I actually heard the sentence, “Ah Kalamazoo, I know right where that is. It’s not far from my friends who live in Michigan.” WOAH BABY. Someone here in Bhutan who knows my hometown? I was able to show them around school in the morning and have an incredible dinner with them Saturday night.  - - - shout out to Sam, Andrea, and everyone at BCF for making this possible J.

3. I bought my first real kira – no hooks or Velcro for this girl. 

4. And, finally, life goes on. My next goal while here is to immerse myself in my community as much as possible and be more present.