The naughty river

12^th July

Fording the "Naughty River"

“The river is very naughty,” says our driver, as we pause to make sure that the following vehicle successfully fords the river we have just crossed and makes it through the tight uphill turn with a muddy bog that immediately followed it, “last year it washed away one Bolero.  Everyone was killed.”

Given that just below the ford was a waterfall, albeit not huge, one could imagine that the river in full flood could easily wash away this preferred make of Indian four-wheel drive vehicle that is used as taxi transport.

The Gongri Chhu from my kitchen windwo

I come from Australia “the land of flooding rains” and news reports of vehicles being stranded, or caught by floodwaters are not uncommon, but I have never lived this close to such events.

The Gongri Chhu, the sound of which lulls me to sleep every night, has changed as the rains have started.  From a quiet background noise, it has developed into a steady roar.  Students were warned, at the final assembly before the mid term break, to stay clear of the river.  These students often do not learn to swim, despite the fact that there is water in every valley, but the movement of these rivers once the rains start would not just be a matter of managing to swim confidently and competently.  There is a “take no prisoners” look to sections of this river as it winds its way down the valley, through the twists and turns that resemble some of the important letters in Dzongkha, and so it considered auspicious.

The Gongri Chhu at Gongza in early June

I sit now, at the prayer wheel at the school, writing this and admiring the view and listening to the river’s roar.

Even on 2^nd June, when we hiked down the hill to visit the Gongza sacred site, the river levels were already rising, and the river running fast.  Some of the sacred sites and stones were not accessible.

Returning from Trashigang late last week, we follow the banks of the Drachme Chuu to the confluence of the Kulong Chhu and the Gongri Chhu.  Rivers here get new names after a confluence; it does save the problem of determining which is the most significant river!

Fording a river near Phongme, November 2013

As we travelled along, with the monsoonal rain easing as we got further from Trashigang, I could only imagine what this river will be like when the rains get very heavy and we near the end of the monsoon season.  When I arrived this river was a beautiful blue river, tumbling over stones and boulders, as it wound it way down its valley.  Now it is grey, angry, and it does not tumble over the larger boulders, it rushes at them with apparent intent to bulldoze out of its way.  The force that shapes landscapes and polishes river rocks to a round finish is very much in evidence.  There are places where I think anyone’s chances of survival, should they be unfortunate enough to fall in, would be minimal.  Richard Flanagan’s “Death of a River Guide” comes to mind. 

The alternative river crossing near Phongme, November 2013

As we approach the confluence of the Kulong Chhu and the Gongri Chhu, a spot that is always noisy with the force of the water, the noise becomes deafening, and one’s fantasy does not have to be too active to appreciate the demons and spirits that may be attributed to such places.

The rising rivers can isolate many communities.  When I was here as a tourist in 2013, we passed one such stream, between Radi and Phongme; the presence of basket-like conveyance on a rope above the river gorge a little downstream attesting to the only method of crossing once the rains set in.  

The remains of the bridge on the Omba track

The makeshift bridge on the Omba track

We see bridge construction underway across many rivers, but also see evidence of bridges having been washed away.  Seeing the force with which the Kulong Chhu assaulted the remains of the previous bridge at Duksum, I am not surprised, but the height of the bridge supports that crosses the (currently) small river near Omba falls, not far from Kheni, boggles my imagination at how much the river must rise to have removed that bridge.