Wednesday, November 2, 2011

The Deadly Road to Bumthang

Today we would continue traveling East by car for over eight hours on one of the scariest roads I have ever been on, on our way to Bumthang Valley. On the way out we stopped at Wangdue Dzong.


As we approached there were a lot of kids going to school. Education is free and provided for by the government. Again I would have to let go of my western (or US) mind, and remember that here in Bhutan, government is a good thing that works for the people and not just for the government itself. They are getting a very good education.


You might think that once you have seen one Dzong you have seen them all, and at first glance they all do have a similar look and feel. However, when you enter them and open yourself to them, they all offer a unique experience, and this one was no exception.




I assumed this was the market where they got their eggs.


It was a pretty active place with monks of all ages.






When you are here you walk slowly, so that you can take in and process everything. Scanning all around you, your eyes trying to capture every image, your ears trying to capture every sound, this experience defining you, your past, present, and future. I felt very honored at this point, not only did they let me in their country, but they are also sharing their most sacred temples with me. It’s an amazing feeling and an amazing experience.


Some very old prayer wheels.


Inside corridors.






Some younger prayer wheels.


We went in to one of the temples, I made my offering and spent some time meditating and letting go. Afterwards one of the monks came up to me, and speaking through my guide, asked if I wanted a spiritual cleansing. It had been offered to my guide before on visits to other temples, but this was the first time it was offered to me. Having seen my guide go through the process, I said I was ready and held out my hands. The monk poured some holy water in to them and I took a small drink before placing the remaining water over my head. The monk then said a prayer for me.

We walked out and I was kind of in a daze, part of me was in disbelief in what I just got to experience, the other part of me was still struggling to understand what it means to me.






I would have had plenty of time to contemplate this with the long drive ahead, however I was too focused on watching the road. I was a helpless passenger in the back seat as my driver navigated the rough terrain faster than I ever would. I got a little taste of how my Mom feels when I drive everyone up to my place in Whistler. It does help keep everyone awake for the ride, and after seeing this sign no one wants to sleep anyway.


The Trongsa Dzong that we would stop at on the return trip.


The road was muddy and slick.


On one side was a cliff which the road was slowly eroding away in to. In fact on the way to Bumthang we saw a truck fall over the edge, and on the way back we got to see the results as they had somehow pulled it back up. I'm sorry to say that the driver did not survive the crash.




While the other side had rocks and stones falling from above.


Now add in the fact that there are trucks on this road that you have to pass, or squeeze by, and that landing at Paro International Airport seems like nothing.




My driver needed a breather so we stopped for tea at this place.


They had dogs out front that seemed friendly, however in the back of my mind was the word "optional". So I tiptoed around them taking a mental note to discuss it with my doctor for future travels.


We checked out the village a little before climbing back in to the car.












I had my music with me and they had theirs, and along the way we switched back and forth sharing some of our favorite songs with each other. I found quite a few Bhutanese songs that I enjoyed. As we got close to our destination we came across a few Yaks.


After a very long day of driving we finally got to Yozerling Lodge in Bumthang, just outside of the town of Jakar. This place was great. While it was wired for electricity, it did not work that often, and the only source of heat for the lodge was this wood burning hotbox, and your body.


While in the main lodge I got a beer, Druk 11000 of course, and sat by the fire. While I was there a lady came in and was looking for a glass of wine, but had to buy the whole bottle instead. She looked at me with my beer and said "Looks like you have the right idea". I told her I just got in to town and after that drive I needed something to relax. Turns out she was on a group tour with her husband and four other people, and through the same tour company that I was using. They arrived about 30 minutes after me. So she just finished the same exciting long drive that I just finished. We eventually got around to asking where we were each from, and it turns out that they are from Port Angeles, WA, around two hours away from me in Redmond. The rest of the group, who were from other states in the US, were all great people as well, and the next three days we all hung out together. They are my kind of people, and you would have to be, to be out here.

After checking in I headed to my room, and it was awesome.


My bed had two down blankets and three sheets to keep warm, because my only source of heat was my smaller hotbox in the room. At first I thought this is great, I love wood buring fireplaces and heaters, I love their warmth, the sound of wood cracking, the smell of the smoke. However, this would soon become my number one nemesis.


I would be here for three nights so I washed a bunch of clothes in the sink with some detergent packets and then hung them around the fire to dry. When burning this does work quite well and can get red hot. It would never work in the United States because some stupid American would touch it and get burned, and of course then sue for damages. However the Bhutanese are much smarter and can associate fire with something hot, so this is not a problem. However, what they don’t understand is airflow.

The hotbox is small and you can only get two to four logs in it at a time. Even with two logs there is little airflow. With the pine sticks (kind of like our fire starter sticks at home), it takes a good 20 to 30 minutes, and a whole lot of blowing, to get it to a point where it would eventually start on fire. Once started it would burn like the sun for about 45 minutes and then just stop. This means two things, first your window of time between when you can actually fit another log in and still have enough of a fire to start that new log is quite small. And Second, when you go to bed you have one hour to get secured under your covers and then another hour before you can see your breath in the cold air. As I drifted off to sleep I still thought this was quite charming.


VIDEO: Day 4 - Wangdue