Bhutanese whirlwind!

Arriving in the capital of Bhutan, Thimpu, 36 hours after departure from Singapore, an early night was called for.

Rising early the next morning, we had been transported to a magical place. The small city of Thimpu was firmly lodged between the majestic slopes of towering giants, each one weighing in at over 4000m, almost four times that of England and Wales' highest peak, Snowdon.




Following a brief orientation of the city, my friend in Bhutan, Michael, was contacted and he advised me to wear my formal attire! Coming from the jungles of Borneo, I was rather surprised to hear formal attire was a prerequisite for me meeting him. We quickly went about acquiring a Bhutanese Gho, a dressing gown really, knee high socks and formal shoes. It was a good look, although probably only in Bhutan.



We rushed to meet Michael, who detailed the reasons behind the formality; we were to meet the chief justice minister, who had just been awarded the Bhutanese equivalent of an O.B.E. Oh, and most of the government would be there too!



I was then given a very brief tutorial on how to greet the minister. In Bhutanese culture, when one receives an honor such as a promotion or medal, it is customary to give them a white scarf. Apparently this says something about their purity, but in all honesty I wasn't listening. Instead I was concentrating on the required moves. One has to bow, with palms facing the person, to about shin height (the height depends on the person, king would be to foot level, normal to knee,) then one standard and flicks a concertinaed scarf from one hand over the opposite arm, offering it to the person.

I had one practice, now time for the real thing.

After being ushered into his mansion on the hill, past many other dignitaries, some with swords, we entered the giving room. Official photographer on one side, aide the other, with a grinning minister planted between them.

Only the mountain of white scarves to negotiate and it was Michael's turn to do the move. It went well, with the minister looking impressed. Pressure is on. My random presence is quickly explained and now it's my turn. Bow, stand, flick and offer. Success! I even got a compliment and photo for the occasion (the photo was rather cheeky given the queue!)



After mingling with the great and good, including the only cancer doctor in Bhutan and all the judges, we eat the chilli-based buffet and depart. I for one now was a little wiser on the subtlety of Bhutanese politics.

The afternoon was spent with a different part of Bhutanese society. The King's chief bodyguard had just been promoted and we were going to congratulate him as he was a personal friend of Michael's. This event, being important yet again, required another stab at the white scarf presentation, but was less nerve-wracking given the previous success!

After presentation, we then sat down and spoke with him, via his daughter as interpreter, on what he felt like. One thing which didn't need any interpretation was how proud he was - that shone through. We then received alcoholic rice-wine drinks with egg (mine contained almost a whole egg shell too, which I duly crunched and swallowed most of it to not offend the host). Oh, and there was some chili floating around too just for good measure!!



With new years' eve drawing in, we headed for a rather fancy restaurant service western cuisine, before meeting up with some expats to celebrate new year.

Earlier that day, I had inquired as to how many foreign nationals lived in Bhutan, my guide, instead of giving a number as I would have expected, proceeded to list the five foreign nationals he knew of in the whole of the country. He wasn't far off in his estimate!

Once at the house of an advisor to the Bhutanese government on environmental issues (as almost all foreigners just advise) we proceeded to have the most surreal of evenings. Surrounded by mostly Europeans, we all turned our hands to learning an Irish jig, followed by some line dancing. At first, I thought I must have just been a slow learner, not picking up the required moves nearly as fast as many others, but later it transpired that most of the crowd had been practicing this dance every week for the past few months. I then felt significantly less inept!

The following day it was time for the real work to begin. I was to climb with my new, fitter and younger guide to 4500m, spending the night with a Buddhist monk tasked with looking after a small temple.



Setting off early on new years' day, this was to be the most work, or anything I had done on any new year before midday! We headed off up a steep slope and within 2 minutes I was covered in sweat and breathing hard; it was going to be tough. Little did I know my guide was finding it just as hard. 15 minutes later he started to straggle; it turns out that neither of us wanted to loose face so we had almost been jogging up the slope!

With the walk scheduled to take 3 hours, I was understandably happy when we hit over three quarters of the way after only 45 minutes. We had been going fast!




Once arriving at the monk's place, my guide mentioned that he had spent much of the last 13 years in isolation; it showed. During the evening meal, the monk served up as usual. Then, as we reached to serve ourselves, he snatched the serving plates out of our hands! Apparently, he wanted the rice, and fast!

After spending the evening discussing why he chooses to live in isolation and how he came to be there, we drift off whilst the snow-storm rages outside...

The following morning everything was awash with white. It was truly a sight to behold, and captured poorly on camera. You'll just have to trust me that it was a really amazing sight. One made even more majestic as we sat on the hill, huddled around a fire we had quickly erected, waiting for the clouds to clear (which they did slowly).









With the climb down the hill taking significantly longer than it really should have done, owing to some really awful navigation (finger of blame well and truly lodged at the guide - sorry!), we headed off into the heart of Bhutan in search for a more rural view on Bhutanese life today.

Journey's across Bhutan are always amazing. Firstly, the roads are pretty darn slow, with winding roads and perilous drops resulting in an average speed of 25km/h (and he was going as fast as I could/would want to go). The speed limit across almost all roads is set at 40km/h anyway!



Arriving at a tiny village, one day's travel outside the capital, we were swiftly guided up the hillside, to an encampment where the yearly archery tournament was being run between two rival villages. In a field on the steep banks of the valley, we gathered in two huddles, one around each target. Safety "UK" style is a thing of the past there, with everyone staying only metres (about 10) away from the targets. Although this doesn't sound too bad, please bear in mind that the archers were firing from a station over 150m away - that's a long way for any shooting competition, let alone an archery one! Luckily, with archery being the national sport of Bhutan, they are all damn good.



For now I shall leave you, but I shall return with the remainder of the Bhutanese story soon.....

P.S. Sorry for not updating this in a while, but internet cafes are a rare sight in China, although WiFi hotspots are very common - I now have a small laptop and so have little excuse as I write from Shanghai!