OK - so here goes the second part of my journal entry about the journey to Haa. I wrote the actual entry on September 6th.
~~~~
Today (september 6th) it was still raining, and from the restaurant window, during breakfast I glanced outside watching the passerby lead a cow here, or walk with produce there. We took a long stroll all through town. First heading in the direction of the Indian military compound, walking parallel to the river, to our right a suspended bridge, decorated with prayer flags, heading to the other side of the river. Quickly getting away from the “downtown” and passing through some residential areas. As we turned back and headed back towards town, I noticed two young men, sitting in front of a house, one holding a guitar the other taking of picture of Signe and myself as we were walking by. I decided to pull out my camera, and turn this into a human moment. We would both be gawking at chillips, right? When I pulled out my camera and aimed it at him, a large smile appeared on both of our faces. I decided to grab the opportunity and go say hello. I joked about taking pictures at one another, and immediately asked the young man with the guitar to play me a song. He was tuning it, and after finishing to tune it (it was still quite out of tune) he asked if I wanted to hear a song in English or Dzonghka. Signe and I both said Dzonghka immediately. And so he played us a song. A two chord song, and singing shyly, it was hard to really tell what the quality of the song was like, but it was a pleasant sounding song. Seemed to have western qualities, though sung in Dzonghka. It turned out it was an original (as I had thought).
We made our way in the opposite direction, passing by the archery grounds where a match was being held. After pausing for a few short minutes to watch the competition, we continued our walk out of town in the other direction. We crossed a bridge by foot, alongside a cow, and a woman with two kids who seemed to be asking for money, and as the river was now to our right, widening, with a secondary school by our side, kids playing football (soccer) in the rain, we ventured slightly up hill towards another more residential area of town. Local Bhutanese who were walking in the same direction or opposite direction seemed to be very interested in our presence. A few of them asking us where were we going, where were we from. I noticed a curious habit with a few of these passerby, they would trail us for a few minutes, walk very close to us from behind, until I guess they realized that the conversation was over. I wasn’t sure if it were more polite to continue the conversation, but on the other hand we didn’t quite have much left to say. The English of most of the people we ran into in Haa was not very good.
In this same neighborhood we met a young man, Tenzin, who asked us those two questions: “where are you going?” and “where are you from”. He was on vacation from school in Bangalore and helping his dad build a garage for the new pickup truck they bought. They were originally from the east about 60 km away from Mungar, but his father is a judge and is serving here in Haa. He asked us if we had had lunch, and though we hadn’t (well actually we had a large breakfast and were not very hungry) we said we had, because it seemed clear that had we said that we hadn’t, we would have been invited for lunch at this man’s house, having only met him for two minutes. This is a fine example of the Bhutanese hospitality. It was clear, in this case, that this invitation, had it occurred, was not motivated by wanting something from us, except perhaps to hear more about our lives outside of Bhutan, give him the opportunity to practice English, and kindly share his family and life with us.
On our way back to Thimpu
Before getting on the road that leads to Paro through Chelila, we stopped at the two famous temples in Haa. The Lhakhang Karpo and the Lhakang Nagpo (white and black temples), which according to the Bhutanese tradition, were part of the temples built in the 7th century by the Tibetan King Songtsen Gampo who emanated as a pigeon. (Bhutan: Himalayan Mountain Kingdom, Pommaret). As we walked up the tall wooden stairs into the courtyard of the White temple, we quickly noticed a very routy football game being held by the young monks. The ball, which hardly had any air in it, was being kicked around the uneven stone patched floor. I was really itching to join, partly because I itch to join every football game I see, and partly maybe because it seemed so cool to me to be playing football with all these monks at this monastery in Haa valley, in Bhutan. (And partly because I saw the movie The Cup only recently about the obsession of monks with football in Darmasala). I asked if I could join, and I was not only invited, but the ball was passed to me at almost every opportunity, with laughter surrounding every misstep of mine and the attention of the young and older monks directed towards me alike. I did my best to pass the ball as much as I could and not to play rough. HAA! But, unfortunately on the first possession of the ball by my team, I enthusiastically chased a ball, and lost my equilibrium, running into a young monk, who was also going for the ball. I thankfully caught the young guy, and hugged him, trying to keep both him and I from falling. I succeeded, thankfully. From there on things went much more smoothly.
After playing some football, we walked inside the monastery to visit the temple. We turned the prayer wheels, and then entered the temple, which was decorated with many statues of Buddha, and various deities, as well as two big drums, and other instruments, masks, thangkas, bowls of holy water, and two teenage monks who were watching us and answering Chimmi’s questions. Chimmi and Sonam begain salutating towards the various deities. Signe and I followed suit. A kind of prayer, going down to our knees and back up 3 times in front of each diety. As usual, we offered a modest amount of money as an offering to one of the deities, following the example of Chimmi, putting the money to our forehead (third eye?) and then kissing it and putting it in the bowl where previous offerings still lie.
One of the young monks showed us the way to the black temple, which required a short hike of about 10 minutes up a hill. Eventually the temple appeared before us, a smaller temple, built of dark (hence black temple) stones. We climbed our way up, but there seemed to be no one there to let us inside the temple. Eventually, after a few minutes of looking about, a very young monk (maybe 7 or 8) appeared and unlocked the door to the temple. Apparently, the older monks were in town buying groceries at the Sunday market. Again, many of the same rituals happened. And in one corner of the small room, there was a hole going into the ground, covered around it with wood, like a small roof, for a small house underground. In the hole, there was water, and according to Chimmi it apparently is where a mermaid resides. Chimmi asked the young monk to bring a flashlight. And then he pointed it down the hole. Sonam, asked for the flashlight and they pointed down into the water, lighting the pond, looking for the mermaid. Signe and I looked at each other with some puzzlement, and waited for our two hosts to be finished with their search. On our way back from the black temple to the car, Chimmi explained to me that back in the ancient time the mermaid would come out and appear, but not anymore, not ever since they started building with cement, she doesn’t like it.
We made our way back to Thimpu, this time heading towards Chilela, supposedly the highest point in altitude of all the roads in Bhutan. On a clear day, you have marvelous views of the high Himalayas range, but the weather was pretty miserable. Very fogy and a bit rainy and the views at Chilela were non-existent. At the pass, there were dozens upon dozens of prayer flags, all a top the mountain, in many colors, moving in the wind. We made our way down towards Paro, again passing by the usual sights, the windy roads, and the splendid views.
From Paro to Thimpu, the relief of a two way road seemed almost unnecessary. We stopped at one point, to collect some holy water. On the side of the road, from a big white rock, with some prayer wheels located on both sides, at carved in nooks, there was a fairly strong stream of water coming down. At least 5 or 6 cars at any given moment would be stopped to fill bottles, and canisters with this water. Some were washing their cars with it. Chimmi explained to me that this was holy water, from an unknown source in Tibet, but that they know it is very good, healthy water, that it gives a long life. And so, Sonam and Chimmi filled two bottles from this stream and we made our way back to Thimpu. When we arrived in Thimpu, after only being gone for 36 hours, all of a sudden, I could understand why Thimpu is the big city of Bhutan.. It is big and hectic, compared to Haa, and even to Paro. And so, Thimpu, which upon arrival seemed so small, was now, after only 36 hours in the countryside the metropolitan of Bhutan in my eyes as well.
~~~~
Shana Tova,
Noam
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment