Haa Valley Journey!

Finishing up my second full week of teaching at Kilu Music School and it's been terrific thus far. I'll write more about school soon enough in a separate entry. First, though, there's lots to catch up on: my weekend adventure to Haa!

I am hoping to soon post an all image chronicling of this same journey. But, first, words.

It’s approx. four hours by car to Haa Valley - the western most area in Bhutan where roads will take you. Not far from the Chumbi valley in Tibet. Only opened in 2004 for westerners. The plan was to take a taxi to Paro and from Paro to hire a driver to take us to Haa. As it turned out, when on Saturday morning I went upstairs to Chimmi to pay her rent, I told her I was heading to Haa for the weekend. She wondered how exactly we were planning to get there, and when I told her we were going to hire a driver, she said that she would be happy to drive us there. She has a sister in Haa. I was at first unsure about accepting this offer, but after I called Signe, and noticed her enthusiasm, I decided to accept. Signe says, that Bhutan is a place where this kind of magic always happens. Where somehow things always work out, unplanned adventures become magical journeys, and peoples’ constant generosity and willingness to provide the most generous hospitality tends to lead to wonderful things. Maybe I’m starting to believe her theory a little bit.

After work on Saturday afternoon, I returned to my apartment building with Signe and we loaded up the tiny Suzuki-Marutti with Chimmi and Sonam (her daughter) and began our journey to Haa.

On our way

There are two ways to get to Haa from Thimpu, one goes south first and then west, circling around and finally reaching Haa, the other goes directly over the highest pass in Bhutanese roads, Chilela Pass at approx. 3,900 meters. We planned to take the indirect route on the way there and the direct route through paro on the way back.

Here a carpenter, working in an open shop, there a monastery nestled high up on a mountain nook. And everywhere on the road cows, dogs and people. The road to Haa, is a very narrow one lane road, essentially without rails, usually no more than 3-4 seconds between curves. The bends, blind spot after blind spot, deep chasms to one or both sides, luscious trees and bushes, impressive mountain peaks, hanging in the fog, mist and clouds.

Trucks coming in the opposite directions, appearing suddenly from behind the blind bend, immediately forcing us to stop and veer to the left. Several times I could almost feel my heart drop between my feet as I felt like we were close to falling off the cliff, another meter or two, and we would be at the edge. But, what seems frightening to me, appears to be as natural as can be to Chimmi my dutiful neighbor and driver for the weekend. Her driving was cool, no matter what surprise appeared suddenly on the road, be it an Indian army truck, a cow in the middle of the road, dogs that won’t move, chickens, or families tending to their produce, merchandise or houses. I noticed that we generally didn’t drive much faster than 35-40 km per hour, on these windy roads, and the slow pace along with the consistent habit of honking our horn loudly as we approach a blind spot curve provided some measure of comfort and security, albeit not enough to put me completely at ease.

It was raining on and off yesterday during our journey, and yet people were walking on the main road, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, not a village within 10 km in either direction.

On the way we passed many small villages (hamlets really), ten houses here, seven houses there, with the traditional Bhutanese houses, kids hanging outside, or from the windows, yelling “hello” and “chillups” (foreigners in Dzonghka) when we stopped long enough for them to catch a glimpse of us.

Down in the valleys, gushing rivers, terraced fields adorning the mountain slopes, incredible vistas in every direction, a fairy tale land, really.

As we made our journey through this narrowest of roads, heading in the direction of a rarely traveled part of Bhutan for westerners, when I wasn’t busy trying to lift my heart back up from the floor from the fear of the drive itself, I could hardly believe what I was seeing. I couldn’t quite believe that I was here. It dawned upon me that though I had many dreams for my life, including many dreams to travel far, I never imagined I would find myself in this magical land. I never quite thought I would be traveling in this small car, on these roads, with newly made friends, and oh so generous neighbors, through terrain so beautiful and so remote, experiencing moment after moment of wonderment and awe, at the beauty of the landscape and the people we were passing by.

The images of the people we passed by on the road, a man carrying a large basket of apples on his back, or a woman walking with her child, in the pouring rain, a score of kids playing with a ball in the middle of the road, on a part of the road where huge drops happened to be on both sides. The way in which these men, women and children often walked on our side of the road (the left) with their backs to us, the incoming traffic, never flinching as we came near, as if completely trusting us to carefully avoid them, even though to my eyes, we almost always passed them by a distance too close for comfort. The cows and the dogs and the chickens all had the same undying trust in our driving skill. Often Chimmi would have to navigate through a cow obstacle course, three cows on the right, two on the left, and one in the middle. But the cows, didn’t seem to mind as our car whizzed by right next to them.

In Haa

We arrived in Haa, right as dusk was nearing its end and a rainy night was about to take over the evening sky. Haa valley, with it’s river, Amu Chuu, and mountains all around it, seemed like a place from ancient Chinese fairy tales. We first got lost looking for Chimmi’s sisters’ place, and made our way through the Indian Army compound, passing the Haa Dzong (that is not in service as a Dzong, but serves the Indian army). Apparently, the Indian army has a large base in Haa, training the Bhutanese army. Aside from military facilities, we noticed colorful hindu temples, and many Indian men milling about with and without uniform . It had a distinctly non-Bhutanese feel. After a phone call to Chimmi’s sister, we made our way in the direction of the town of Haa.

We walked in the dark through several alleyways, with gaps in the pavement for the rain water to flow and not flood, careful not to trip on the slippery rocks, and not to fall into the small streams. My visit to Chimmi’s sisters’ house, was my first in a traditional Bhutanese house. This one was not a particularly large one, a small living room, with modest, light blue painted walls, though random patches of unpainted white blobs everywhere about. The floor, a wooden floor, the walls decorated with portraits of the royal family (present and past) and various Buddhist deities. We sat in colorfully decorated chairs and small backless sofas and were offered tea. Accepting a refill on our cup was a must. We were also offered Bhutanese wine, but declined the offer, only to learn that it is very much tradition to offer the guests wine, and perhaps our refusal was bordering on insult. Luckily, we were with my neighbors, who were family to our hosts, and there didn’t seem to be any problem.

We were taken to the altar room to have a look. Almost every traditional Bhutanese home, has a special altar room, where deities, colorful thangkhas, and cloth decorate the room. There is usually a candle burning, below a prayer wheel, turning the wheel with it’s smoke. The cloth in this particular altar room were made by the husband in this house, a man who also works at the traditional medicine facility in Haa.

We also declined dinner and headed searching for a hotel in town. Apparently, Chimmi’s mother has a relative who owns a nice hotel in town and we were told we would be taken there. Why not? The first striking image that caught my attention as we got close to center of Haa, where there were a few general shops and hotels, was a medium size cow gnawing on a cardboard box on the side of the road near our hotel. With stray dogs everywhere, and only a few people walking about the street at around 8:00pm, Haa delivered on the promise of being a remote and truly non-touristic location. In fact, in our entire stay in Haa and on the roads leading to and from we didn’t see one tourist.

We followed Chimmi and her sister up the stairs and found that the reception for the hotel was also a karaoke bar, where loud music and dancing was actually going on, on this Saturday night with about 15-20 people in attendance. We were taken to our room, where two single beds, with colorful bed-covers (like some of the Ghos you see), a tv, and a modern bathroom surprised me, at least.

After taking a quick stroll through town, literally two minutes up and two minutes down, we found a restaurant at a different hotel that seemed to look reasonable and had several options for food. Though certain items on the menu, were not actually available that night, we found plenty we could order, and settled in our seats to wait for our food. I have noticed that it takes a relatively long period of time to be served in restaurants here in Bhutan. I think this is because, they prepare everything fresh, the minute an order is placed. At times, I believe they have to step out into town and buy some missing groceries for a particular dish. Very little must be prepared in advance, as I don’t think they (especially in such remote locations) can count on any regular traffic of diners. The following morning, for example, for breakfast at the restaurant of our hotel, we waited at least 30 minutes for our meal of fried eggs, toast and fried rice. The tea arrived approx. 10 minutes after our order, but without milk powder, which I was told was coming right out. Within a minute or so, I noticed a young man, hurriedly walking in to the restaurant, dashing towards the kitchen, with a large milk powder bag tucked into his side. We might have been the only customers for breakfast that day. Somehow, even this, gives one a sense of being really cared for. That they go through such efforts to deliver on our requests (then again these items are on the menu).

So, after our dinner, we decided we would pay a visit to the Karaoke bar, and explore the Haa nightlife. On a small stage in front of us, various women and men (sometimes in couples) performed songs. Mostly they danced to Bhutanese pop music, with very modest and subtle movements. And a few songs were actually sung. Most of the dances we saw were performed by singular women performers, who danced in a somewhat (or appearing to be) self-conscious manner. Dressed in their half-kiras, I was wondering as I was watching these women dance to a room mostly filled with men, whether this was the Bhutanese form of seductive dance. If so, it was oh so modest compared to what one would see at an average college party in the US.

Part II of my reflections on the journey to Haa to follow in a few days. I know this must be a lot to read, but if you've made it this far, you must have enjoyed it!

yours,

Noam