Camp Bumthang

It’s easier to float

with many buoyant bodies

and smiles for sails

As I walked up the hill out of my village, making my way to the hotel to find a ride to Bumthang, a song jammed in my head as if I had walked into some pizza parlor of the type where you find a jukebox that plays only the hits from the 70s, 80s and 90s, but not today. “Oooh, we’re halfway there!” You know which song…

With this as my accompaniment, village-woven bamboo basket in hand for Martin and Tara, a backpack full for whatever adventure would befall me during my 2 week break, I walked the cloud misted road to Chazam. At the hotel, after a breakfast of tea-momo, eazay, eggs, and ema datse, I learned that my tablemates were headed to Mongar. They are health workers there and were driving two emergency response vehicles back from a training in Thimphu. Lucky me! I threw my bag and baskets in the back of the ambulance, my new friend Thinley put his doma (beetle nut) in his cheek, took the wheel, and we were off.

4.5 hours later, having survived some muddy rutted sections of road, I reached an atypically sunny (for monsoon season) center of Chamkar town in Bumthang. After catching a taxi to Martin and Tara’s homestead, I changed into kira and caught the same taxi up to Kurje Lakhang where Martin, Tara, Ashley, and Reidi were jostling forward to receive a blessing from a masked monk. Being Guru Rimpoche’s Birth Anniversary, the famous lakhang was packed with milling people in their best dress watching bright masked dancers and filing up to receive a blessing. Soon I was enveloped in the arms of my fellow teachers. I had not seen Reidi or Ashley in 6 months! With blessings bestowed, we headed out to cool our toes in the river and then back to the homestead to relax.

“Camp Bumthang” had begun. The next few days were spent catching up, walking to and from town, picnicking by the Chamkar Chuu (the river that cuts the valley), and making amazing food in Martin and Tara’s well-stocked and implemented kitchen. Saturday brought Sheal from Mongar, and Sunday night, Noorin and Sarah from Kuruthang and Gasa respectively. The arrivals brought much rejoicing and many stories. On Monday, we relocated to the River Lodge for a 3-day retreat hosted by BCF. There, we joined most of the other teachers here, some who traveled from far-flung placements despite the iffy roads and other difficulties. What struck me most, and the inspiration for the somewhat sappy haiku at the start of this entry, was everyone’s happiness and ease. We got to share the good stories and the challenging ones. For me, this kind of sharing rounds out what can feel like a singular experience. There are parallels in our experiences, and we’ve had to overcome similar challenges in adjusting and succeeding in our work.

Weaving through flags at Membartsho

On our second day of the retreat, we visited Membartsho, or ‘the Burning Lake’. Bumthang is a holy valley and this site is where Guru Rimpoche hid sacred treasures. Later, the Terton Pema Lingpa (1450-1520 CE) was challenged to bring up some of the treasure and proved himself by going into the lake with a burning torch that did not extinguish in the water. The site is tucked away in a wooded ravine, veiled by prayer flags. It isn’t really a lake, but a deep, rather still pool in a river. The water glistens with agitated minerals, and the quality of the light gives the whole place a magical feel. Some say that if you attain the right state of mind, you will be able to see the rest of the treasure at the bottom…

Relaxing at Ogyen Choling (Tang Valley)

After some time we boarded our big yellow bus and continued on into the Tang Valley. We all hiked up from the valley floor to Ogyen Choling to meet Kuenzang Choden for lunch at her family’s historic estate. Madam Kuenzang is the author of several books, including the children’s titles Room in Your Heart and Aunty Mouse, and of course Dawa: the Story of a Stray Dog (all lovely books that you should seek out and read!).

The BCF crew with Kuenzang Choden

Madam Kuenzang gave us a personal tour of her family’s home, which they have turned into a museum preserving Bhutanese life and culture from the turn of the last century. I found it amazing that the house was so similar to the houses of many of my students (though far larger), which signifies how much has remained the same for many rural Bhutanese over the last 100 years. The visit put into perspective how recently changes have come about in Bhutan. During Madam Kuenzang’s early childhood, the house still served as the village trading post, people did not use money to acquire goods, and nearly everything was done by hand. I wonder how life in Bhutan, and the world in general, will change over the next century.

The next day we dined on pasta at the Swiss Guesthouse and journeyed to Chummey (the next valley over) to ogle textiles. I found a particularly warm and lovely red and white wool wrap that will come in handy when the temperatures turn icy again in late fall. The evening was spent celebrating the 4^th of July with Madam Kuenzang and her husband in attendance, complete with a vibrant, if somewhat out of key, rendition of the American national anthem. In the morning, we said farewells over pancakes to the departing teachers who were embarking on other adventures or heading back to their schools. I said goodbye to the River Lodge by indulging in a full-body massage (ahhhhh) before joining a few others back at Martin and Tara’s.

Ready to trek!

First guesthouse on the left, temple on the right (Chokor Valley)

Due to heroic feats of planning and organization on behalf of Martin and Tara, Ashley, Martha, Dave, and I departed the next morning for a 3-day trek into the Chokor and Tang Valleys. The 6 of us met our guide, Tshering, in back of M & T’s house and simply walked from there. After about 12 km that took us across fields and over rivers, we arrived at a 15^th century guesthouse that was to be our accommodation for the night. We were greeted by a smiling host and hostess and their children. After tea (with fresh milk!), I led the crew in some yoga. Dinner was prepared by nearly the whole family while we giggled with the kids. The meal was fresh and jimbé (tasty): potato and cheese curry, soup, buckwheat noodles, red rice, sautéed mushrooms, and ema datse (chili and cheese curry). Full and tired, we fell asleep in cozy beds to the sound of the nearby stream. In the morning, we were greeted with keptan (flat bread), eggs, toast, fresh butter and milk, and cauliflower cheese curry to fuel us for our long day of walking. We left waving goodbye to the little ones poking their heads out of the windows to see us off.

Dinner around the bukari the first night of the trek

Our "album cover" shot at the Dzong

Our first stop for the day was the remains of the 15^th century Dzong that once overlooked the valley. The ruins, though partly excavated, are overgrown with tall herbs. I felt the stirring an archeologist might feel as we scrambled around the stones and still standing walls. We continued the trek, descending the Dzong’s outlook, across a meadow, and into the forest. We climbed gradually through hemlock, up into rhododendron. Finally, after several hours of ascending, we reached the Febila Pass, at nearly 3,600 meters. After lunch, we descended through forest and the out into meadow, complete with cows, until we came to the dirt road that led us to the next guesthouse in the Tang Valley. Everyone’s feet were aching for a good rest by the time we hit the road, though we had approximately 6 km to go. A few kilometers from the house, Dave and I spied a nice swimming spot in the river and jumped in for a refreshing detour. At the guesthouse, our guide prepared us a well-deserved and delicious dinner of ema datse, chicken, rice, potatoes, and dal. In the morning we were treated to fresh milk (Tshering milked the cow himself) and buckwheat pancakes. Our trek had come to a finish. We all piled into a taxi for a bumpy ride back to Camp Bumthang. I have been on many group trips, and each has its challenges. Yet during this trek, we all walked and worked together with generally positive spirits. That, combined with the brilliant beauty of the Central Bhutanese landscape, made the whole experience a joy.

The next week was spent in serious relaxation at Martin and Tara’s. We were treated to dinner at the River Lodge by the owner, Pema Dawa, indulged in a midmorning coffee at the luxurious Aman Kora hotel (where we could only dream of staying at), visited the 1^st King’s palace (next the the Aman), ran errands in town (I stocked up for the return to Rukubji), went for a day hike and a swim, conducted movie nights (thanks to Noorin’s projector and a sheet), and continued to make superb food to which everyone contributed.

Feeling tiny in the forest

By the end of the week, I felt restored. But it wasn’t the indulgences (massage, food, movies) that did it, it was the company. Just being able to talk together, to laugh, to just be. I have friends in my village, people who are becoming my surrogate family.  Even so, I needed to see the people who are having a similar experience, who have been on the other end of the phone in the rough patches, who have helped me laugh when I want to cry. Seeing these good friends, getting to appreciate all their unique personalities and gifts, restored me with a sense of community, support, and lightness. I am curious to see what the next five months hold. Coming back to school now, I don’t feel so solo.

And, for anyone keeping count, I’ll be heading to Thimphu to pick up Joe in 9 days!

Photo Credits: Martin Thorn and David Green. Thanks for taking such great pictures! I hope my film pictures turn out...