Nankhar Tsetchu

22^nd November

Privileged seating with Lam Rinchen Drukpa

I was rather delighted, at the birthday celebrations for the 4^th King, to be invited, by the Lama of Nankhar Goempa, to attend his Tsetchu a week and a bit later. 

Although I was non committal at the time, as it would mean attending on the Sunday before my class 8 students sat their exam, I decided it was an opportunity too good to miss, so rose early on Sunday morning, packed a picnic lunch of fried rice, along with my kira and taego, and headed up the hill.  Literally. 

Thinking of it as "A little stroll" was maybe an understatement. I had estimated 2 hours for the vertical ascent of about 550m and was not particularly phased by the fact I did not know the way. It was up.

Beautifully attired girls sing and dance

The paths I took wound their way through terraces, along an electric fence up  45°slopes which were slippery with dry dust and through sections of forest. I sought directions a couple of times. Gesticulations and references to chorten enhance my understanding of Sharchop directions immensely!   

After about 2 hours I met a group of ladies from Sep who suggested I walk with them.  An offer gratefully accepted as I was unsure of the next little bit, I needed to get around the hill from the ridge which I was largely following.

After another of my Lady Jane efforts at the chorten just below Nankhar we proceeded, and one of my companions kindly offered any help I might need during the day as we parted at the Goempa. My estimate of 2 hours was definitely too ambitious.  I arrived some 3.5 hours after I had left home.

Atara and me

I was greeted by a school principal from Trashigang who sent me, with a lackey, to pay my respects to the Lama, who invited me to sit in the official pavilion to view the Tsetchu. A very special privilege. 



A masked cham dance was in full swing and was followed by the antics of the atara, dancing by beautifully attired girls and a play which was explained to me by Nankhar's Lam Rinchen Drukpa, his sister and another visiting lama.

As I sat in the pavilion, with clear views of both familiar peaks and other peaks further into India that I had not seen before, listening to the unique music and enjoying the costumes and the program, all of which has very significant meaning, I could only think how lucky I am to be able to experience this and many of the other things I am experiencing this year.

The inside of Nankhar Goempa all dressed up for Tsetchu

I tried to depart early to ensure I would be home before dark, declined once again offers of ara ... and punctuated refusals with mimes of rolling down the hill. That, judging by the laughter, needed no translation into Sharchop. 

I finally departed, declined Tim’s colleague’s offer to walk with me to the roadhead that would take me in the wrong direction, changed back into more sensible clothes for hiking and headed down the hill on a mixture of paths on which I had walked up and others.

A lovely sunset to finish off the day.

I was pleased with my sense of direction and knowledge of the geography of the area, I had only one tiny detour that required backtracking. I received and interpreted further directions and declined further offers of hospitality.

I wandered through forest, along the narrow edge of retaining walls for terraces, through gardens and people's yards, down steep slopes and others much easier, to get home in a bit under 2.5 hours to a fabulous sunset and a welcome cold shower..

I've now had 4 Tsetchu experiences, including Mongar, and my preference is the Tsetchu in the more remote goempas. The dances are just as good but the feel is so much more intimate and the performers are so much closer to the audience.

Special Friends

18^th November

It was another of those “only in Bhutan” moments that from time to time my other BCF colleagues share in our closed facebook group. 

Where else in the world would a class 8 boy tell a female staff member that she has just been propositioned – and do it without batting an eyelid or even a hint of a teenage boy smirk – as if it was the sort of conversation he had everyday (for all I know it may be, but I find it unlikely). It was delivered in the same matter of fact way that might have accompanied an inquiry about whether I had enjoyed the curry.

The literal translation, as this 16 year old boy put it, was “he is saying that Madam is very smart and very beautiful and he would like to make a special friendship with Madam”

The context was, as staff on duty (SOD) for the day, I had been supervising the serving of the boarders’ evening meal. The majority of students had taken their meal to the multipurpose hall, but one of the captains was undertaking some duties nearby.  I was standing outside the kitchen eating a small serve (actually, everything I eat is a small serve when compared to what the 6-year old class PP boys manage to stash away) and one of the cooks who speaks a little English was having a conversation with me, only half of which I could understand.  I though he was inquiring about how tired I felt at the end of a long day and whether I would be ready for bed by the time I got home, but my student’s translation put a different context on the words I had picked up from the conversation, which had included special, bed, sleep….

I managed to keep a straight face for the next half hour as students finished their meal and I bid the boys goodnight and walked up the hill with the girls to their hostel, but was enormously amused by the straightforward way in which my student had told me the intent of the conversation. 

The School Picnic

6^th – 7^th November

Picnic preparations

I don’t think that packing a few sandwiches, a cold drink and an apple and heading for the great outdoors will ever be the same again.

It was proposed to have the annual school picnic outside school grounds rather than on the school sports ground (a good idea, I thought) and a suitable spot that was relatively flat and could accommodate the whole school and sundry guests was identified.  Not an easy task in this terrain.

Tasks were delegated and I was assigned staff entertainment – which sent me into a minor panic until

Picnic Breakfast-what else would be served...

some facebook friends came to the rescue with some suggestions which stimulated further ideas.

Classes were cancelled this afternoon (Friday) for picnic preparations, after classes being cancelled during the morning for rehearsal for the upcoming celebrations of the birth anniversary of the fourth King, the 4^th Druk Gyelpo.

There being little to do for some of us, I took a long lunch break and did my Saturday chores before heading to school with the intent of commandeering some students to assist with my preparations.  Assistance was offered by some of the girls and I requested that they find 10 large fejoa, and bring 10 buckets so we could play ducking for apples, then went to find some older boys who might be handy with a bush knife.  3 volunteers were found and I took them aside, chasing away onlookers, to ask if they though they could knock up 3 or 4 pairs of stilts for stilt races.

They caught on quickly and after a conversation in whichever language they shared (there are at least 2 local languages, plus the national language) they seemed to think that this was OK but were concerned about being absent for roll call, so we went to ask permission.  Unfortunately permission was not granted as all the bigger boys were needed to carry the picnic food.

Small boys with big appetites

Our principal quizzed me about my plan and suggested stilt races might be better for the birthday celebrations as the picnic area was a little uneven.  I decided that walking to check out the picnic ground was a good idea and asked one of the students to wait for me at a meeting point to show me the way (through narrow trails, through people’s gardens, alongside people’s houses, through  barbed wire fences …...

The boys with whom I was walking were carrying sacks of vegetables – 30+ Kg – tied to their backs with string.  At one stage we passed Thukten, the biggest boy in my home class, who was flagging under 50Kg of rice.  I know from the graphing work we have done in class that Thukten does weigh 75Kg, more than most of the boys, but he is still a developing 15 year old.  Carrying such a high proportion of his body weight was huge, yet the somewhat smaller big boys were carrying similar proportions of their own body weight in radish, cabbage and chillies.  Doesn’t everyone need a sack of chillies for a picnic. (albeit for ~300 people)

And we were climbing up a hill.

The boys managed their makeshift spears much better than I did!

In due course we arrived, followed soon by others carrying more supplies, including 20 year old class 8 student Dorji with the 50Kg bag of rice.  Dorji is shorter than me and has a somewhat stocky look in his school uniform, but as he stripped off his shirt to cool down in his singlet after his hard work, Banjo Patterson’s descriptive words

“He was hard and tough and wiry”

came to mind.  I did ask him later what he weighs – 52Kg, I expressed surprise at how much he was capable of carrying and the other boys told me “He’s a strong man”.  Indeed he is.

I scouted out the area for tomorrow’s activities and decided against pre-preparing anything on site and went to watch other preparations.  Poles were being cut from the surrounding forest to support the tents and other shelters; boys and younger girls were wielding ridiculously sharp bush knives were busy decimating the surrounding vegetation in order to build “temporary houses” – cubby houses - (a practice I was told by students that would also take place if the picnic were on the school oval) and the class 7 and 8 girls were sitting decoratively on convenient rocks waiting for orders to go collect more firewood.  I was invited to join them for the latter task but declined, as it was cooling down and I was dressed only in a light shirt and trousers.

Much to the concern of many students, I set off alone to return by a different route:  the road which is under construction.  I figured it had to be easier than scrambling down 45 degree slopes and through barbed wire fences.  It also gave me a chance to enjoy the peace and quiet of the environment, to spot the troupe of langur in the trees, enjoy the hedges of poinsettia and return to Kheni in good time to attempt a few purchases before going to school to check out the solar lighting project – it being the first sunny day since installation the previous Tuesday.

So now I am sitting preparing amusements and thinking about tomorrow’s picnic breakfast – for which I need to walk a brisk half hour.

And on the day

I fortified myself with coffee before tackling the walk to the picnic site and a soon as I got to the junction of my shortcut track with the road, there were students to greet me, take my load of a bucket with empty beer bottles (in retrospect I need not have bothered.  There would have been sufficient emptied by the time I needed them..)

I walked with students, enjoying their company, (one of the boys on the previous afternoon observed that he thought I was enjoying being with them; I confirmed it was particularly nice to be with them when I am not trying to make them work hard at their maths) and was shown yet another route to the picnic grounds.

Around a dozen of the staff had camped at the ground overnight – to fend off anything on legs that might be interested in the supplies – and, I suspect, an excuse for a party.

I arrived at the appointed time but BST was once again being observed and about an hour later breakfast was served.  Tea had been available a little earlier, which was nice.  Breakfast was a bit extra special, fried rice served with hard boiled eggs and a coleslaw type salad, which many students shunned, along with butter tea – not my favourite beverage.

The girls had done their bit and brought buckets and guava for my planned entertainment, so I awaited instruction from senior staff as to when I should commence these activities.

A couple of my lovely students:  Thinley and Karsang

I took myself for quite a long walk to find a quiet, private spot in the forest, and returned to questions from students as to where I had been. …. As always.  I did ask them if they really needed to ask that question given that I had disappeared some distance alone and did at least get a few grins in reply.  They told me that to go alone in the forest was dangerous, as there are wild animals – they hunt them.  I inquired about the philosophical correctness of this activity and got the very Bhutanese answer that yes, sometimes it is a sin to kill and other times not.  Not what I thought!

I know about the wild animals;  there are wild pigs, I have seen evidence of them, and there are tigers, I have also been shown evidence of those and Nancy shared a story last weekend about one of Holly’s students being savaged by a leopard.   

I tested out one of boys’ shanghais and did get a stone to fly some distance

I checked out meal preparation:  lunch for around 300 was being chopped, sliced and generally organized.

Entertainment was provided by students:
they are happy to sing in public

I visited some of the “temporary houses” – some ridiculously well constructed for a one-day shelter – and was invited to join some of the boys later for a game.  I was signaled after morning tea that the game was ready:  spears made from saplings which were thrown at a makeshift target of crossed sticks.  I was dismally unsuccessful at even throwing the length of the pitch, but on my second attempt managed to throw straight – it make take a while for those muscles in my arm to recover.

Yet another photo session ensued – the first of many during the day.  I think I will collect money this time to print, I must have around a hundred. 

The first photo session was interrupted by students being summonsed to the main part of the picnic area for the start of the entertainment program –singing and dancing by students, and the beer and “local wine” was on offer as refreshments (along with coke and fanta)  though some of the adult males had already been quality testing the former beverages.

In due course I was asked to commence my entertainment program and started with bobbing for apples – with guava – which did not float; which made the whole affair most hilarious.

The water buckets and beer bottle game provided much hilarity

This was followed by a game which had been suggested to me by Nakita:  adults, aided by a class pp student were to attempt to fill a beer bottle which was placed about 5 metres from a bucket of water, using only their hands to carry the water.

Our vice principal decided we needed to relocate so that everyone could get a better view, including all the guests who were seated on the ground under a canvas awning.

In due course all was organized and even more hilarity ensued as the participants tried their best – and achieved their goal rather quickly (but perhaps not without a little cheating and extra help from the students assigned to hold the bottles steady on the rock-hard, uneven ground.)

More refreshments were on offer after this entertainment, but I was very wary of drinking much alcohol in the heat of the midday sun, as well as what behaviour I might be modeling for the students, many of whom see alcohol abuse in their homes or amongst their neighbours.

Lunch was considered particularly delicious, with several dishes, rather than just the usual rice, dhal and a single curry that the boarders are served.  The fact that there were 2 types of meat impressed many students I later spoke with.  I won’t dwell on the fact that the pork, as always, seems to be about 10% meat, 20% bone and the remainder fat and skin.  Pass.

After lunch there was more entertainment provided by the students – more songs and dances;  I think that might have been what I had been expected to produce, but what I did went down well, I think, even if it was unusual and unexpected.  Both adults and students have seen a couple of games that might provide them with further entertainment at other times.

As the sun disappeared behind the hill, the temperature dropped noticeably and I was grateful for a very warm fleece jacket.

One elderly gentlemen got up to take his leave, and I noticed his bag was full of empty beer bottles; upon inquiry I was told he takes them to sell to the collector.  Guessing, based on this, that his household might be one of the poorer ones, I suggested that he could perhaps be directed to where there were more, or even be given an empty sack to carry some, but another half dozen or more disappeared into the capacious pocked of his gho. 

I gave up on the idea of running the “hunt the thimble” type game that I’d asked some of the boys to set up, and sent them to retrieve the buried treasures – wrapped sweets – for their own consumption.

The view of Kheni Model Village from the picnic spot

The program was wrapped up around 4:15pm and students were set to pick up the rubbish they had so liberally distributed over the whole area.

I left about 4:30pm to walk home – yet another way – with some students and encountered some of the village gents coming to help finish off the leftover (beer and local wine).  One of our teachers had hospitably sent for more supplies to make sure there would be leftovers for them. 

As I left, the boarders were called to line up for early dinner – leftovers from lunch.

All in all, an interesting and rather enjoyable day.  But absolutely exhausting.

To be sure, to be sure

23^rd September

It is said that only 2 things in life are certain, death and taxation.  In Bhutan one can add to that uncertainty.

The last couple of weeks have really reinforced that.  I first heard from the school principal that we might have a visit from a member of the royal family around 3 weeks ago, with the visit for maybe 21^st September.

Blessed Rainy Day is a national holiday on 22^nd September.

And Sakshing Tsetchu apparently normally gives a 3 day local holiday and although that shows in my copy of the school calendar for early October, it is actually happening this week.  But local holidays cannot be announced until there is a memo sent from the Geog (local government) office.

It was also National Reading Week last week and the infant reading competition and Dzonkha reading competition had already been held, and I had scheduled the English reading competition for classes 4-8 for after classes finished on Saturday.

However, with an impending Royal Visit, there was certain cleaning up of the school that needed to be done, so it was that classes would be cancelled, the reading competition would be run, and then there would be clean up.

Actually, the announcement was erroneous; the reading competition would be run after period 1.

The reading competition went reasonably well, apart from some technical hitches with the microphones, then there was allocation of duties for clean up during extensive discussion between staff. 

Apparently my class were assigned to cleaning up the Multi Purpose Hall, including washing the floor.  I stopped some students from tipping buckets of water over the floor, and instructed them in how to use a mop to clean the floor.  It seems that another staff member came along behind me and changed my instructions.  I decided I wanted nothing to do with the creation of a paddling pool to evenly spread the dirt on the floor of the MPH so went outside to supervise students who were attempting to clean the table tops with minimal cleaning cloths and to have another conversation with them about my plans for next year.

I took advantage of permission from the principal to leave early to get myself to Yangtse and left them to it.

So on Monday it was classes as normal to start with, apart from disaster drill in period 2, after which it was announced that there would be no more classes, but there would be clean up.  And staff would be provided with lunch, for reasons for which I was not certain.

I had already allocated duties to various of my home group for cleaning the classroom during the lunch break, and provided them with suitable cloths to do so.  Since another staff member announced to the boys that they were to go and help elsewhere, I needed to do some reorganization of delegations.

Eventually jobs were allocated and I was able to commandeer the school mop and persuade the girls that sweeping then mopping was more effective than other configurations of these tasks and that mopping could better be done by regular washing and squeezing of the mop and regular changing of the water,  threatening anyone who looked as if they might be about to slosh buckets of water everywhere inside.

Uncertain of what else I should be looking after, I delegated some of the girls to also clean floors, tabletops and windows in the classrooms for the infant classes, and to bully the class 3 boys who were loitering in their classroom into helping with the cleaning and general tidying of their room.  I also commandeered any lingering younger children to pick up rubbish, of which there is always plenty. 

I tried to persuade those allocated to weeding the gardens that this job was better done if weeds were removed to a more distance place rather than thrown half a meter away.

Lunchtime was uncertain, and the students told me when I tried to send them for lunch that it was the wrong time.  How would I know anything unless the students tell me!  After a while I wandered down to sit with the staff who were waiting for lunch, and after about ¾ hour it was served.  Activity for after lunch, it transpired (I did need to ask) would be weeding the garden beds along the main path for half an hour or so then everyone could go.  It seems that the boys had already gone to play football but I tried to persuade some girls to do a halfway decent job of not only pulling out the weeds but also removing them elsewhere.

Tuesday was a holiday, and a rather enjoyable special day, Blessed Rainy Day.  I was instructed by my young neighbours in appropriate procedures with creating flower water to wash my hair and body and was invited to dine with friends.

Today was the possible Royal Visit.  Whether or not there would be normal classes was uncertain, so at the normal time, I went to class and taught a rather depleted group of students. 

Notice was received before morning tea time that it was not happening, so the special food that had been prepared was shared with staff.

Classes continued as normal afterwards, but everyone was expecting a notice any moment that we would have holidays.  We went home for lunch and as I was walking back to school, I encountered many of the day scholars walking away from the school.  Yes, holiday had been announced for the rest of the afternoon and tomorrow.  Notice had finally been received from the Geog office.

A longer break would have been good to enable me to get away for some R&R at Linkhar, but one should be thankful for small gifts. 

Now to work out if I can get to Shakshing tomorrow to attend part of the Tsetchu.

Piet’s last hike

19^th – 20^th September

How could I turn down an invitation to join Piet, Tim and mutual friend Sonam for what might be Piet’s last hike in Yangtze for quite some time.  His contract is at an end and he must go after much time spent doing some excellent work for the Dzonghag and developing a thorough knowledge of the better known and many of the lesser known walking trails in the area.

After Saturday morning school, reading competition and some clean up duties, I was on the road with my backpack and hiking boots at 12:30pm

View of Trashiyangtse from the Homestay
at Bimkhar

My thermometer read 30^oC+ in the shade when I left my house, and there was no shade on the road.  Thoughts of mad dogs and Englishmen crossed my mind as I tried to benefit from what little shade my umbrella might provide. 

I was hoping that the total vehicular traffic out of Kheni had not already left; I had already been greeted by the local MP as his vehicle (a better quality than those normally seen on this road) as I walked from school to my house and had heard another heading west as I changed out of my kira.

A couple of vehicles came the other way, and as I was in one of the little side valleys, in which the air scarcely stirs, and was considering finding a tree to sit under for a few minutes, the sound of an approaching truck disturbed the pleasant sounds of the river below.

A very welcome ride was offered to Zangpozor and as I was getting out of the truck, another vehicle approached and passed.  Much tooting of the truck horn brought him back and I requested a ride; my request was kindly granted. 

By 2:30 I was in  Yangtse, checking one of the local cafes for momo and enjoying a plate of these delicacies. 

My enquires regarding a barber (I am desperately in need of a haircut) reached a dead end so I met Tim and we visited Chorten Kora before going back to our agreed meeting place with Piet.  Cold drinks and catching up filled the time well until Piet joined us and helped me finish the bottle of beer and I was introduced to Sonam, a Bhutanese whose passion for hiking matches Piet’s and Tim’s.

Homestay living room

A short walk out of Yangtze and we were in a tiny village with a wonderful heritage house, into which we were invited to look at how the better off members of society used to live.

Homestay alter room

A little further and we reached Bimkhar, a village with lovely views of Yangtze town and the valley of the Kulong Chhu  and one of the nicest homestays I have had the pleasure of staying in.  Our host is a carpenter and the house was well furnished  (although seating was traditionally on the floor on mats) and naja and biscuits were served before it was suggested it was time to move to take our menchu, or hot stone bath.

Note to self:  never model choice of footwear on what a Bhutanese is wearing.  They will wear plastic ”slippers” (thongs or flip-flops – depending on which country you are from) any time.  It turned out that the walk was longer than I anticipated and I did request that someone could go and get my hiking boots for the return walk. 

We descended a narrow trail to the river, and a wonderful fire was heating up the stones for the open air wooden tub which was sunk into the ground next to the river.

The hot stone bath beside the stream

While this facility needs a bit of an upgrade before it would be suitable for tourists, it promised a fun evening.  Water from the spring was being piped into the bath, dusk was falling and the sounds of the river and the fire accompanied good conversation and a drop of Piet’s special Dutch hootch which was shared around while our host and his companion attended to the fire and the water.

In due course both the stones and the water were deemed ready, and I was invited to take the first plunge.  Requesting more cold water before I was completely scalded, I managed to stay in the bath and was joined by Piet and Tim.  After a while (just as the temperature was getting acceptable to my standards, it was deemed that more water and more hot rocks (read: glowing white hot in the pitch dark by now) were required so we hopped out to be on the safe side while this process happened.  The hot rocks, dropped into the water, bounced repeatedly on the bottom as they made the water around them boil.

To scare away evil spirits...

I let the others take a turn, there was scarcely room for 4, as we needed to stay clear of the rocks, but then it was decided we could all squish up and it was very cosy indeed.  Several more rounds of more water and more rocks until the bath was brimming and we were extremely hot and wrinkled (well, for some of us, more wrinkled)

There was much speculation about desirable improvement, including improving easy plunging into river water, paving of the surroundings and ways of separating the hot stones from the people.  Also draining the bath and the silt that accumulates on the bottom.  It was nice that it was dark and we could not see the colour of the water.

About 9:30pm it was deemed we should return for dinner, and ara was offered before dinner. 

Dinner was an excellent selection of fresh vegetable curries accompanied by boiled eggs. Most delicious, despite our hostess’s translated protestations that she did not know how to cook for foreigners.  Sonam had told her just to cook what she had in her garden, a really good move as the favorite protein dishes involve large quantities of pork fat, chicken bone or very bony dried fish.  None of which I find particularly palatable.  I asked Sonam to translate my praise of her food and preference for meat free dishes; which seemed to please her greatly.

Our hosts at the entrance to the homestay

Contrary to my expectations, we each had our own bedroom, and although the bathroom to which I had access was Bhutanese style, my companions had access to a bathroom with a sit on toilet (albeit without a seat or cistern; it was flushed with buckets of water)

The day dawned with much cloud, which cleared a little to give hints of the mountains at the head of the Kulong Chhu valley.  These mountains hide those beyond which have permasnow and form part of the border with Tibet.

The old Yangtse Dzong viewed from above

Breakfast was traditionally Bhutanese, rice with curries, quite similar to the night before, and Sonam requested a packed lunch and Tim also accepted the offer.  I had brought biscuits, chocolate and bananas, which for a longish half daty walk I thought would be quite sufficient.

We farewelled our hosts and headed up the hill, with various grades of gentle to steep, towards …..

We walked through high meadows and lovely forest, at times slowing down so that Sonam could do a little trail clearing with the knife that seems to be part of Bhutanese standard equipment (Think Crocodile Dundee) to arrive at our destination which seemed perched right on the end point of a high ridge overlooking the Kulong Chuu valley and a smaller side valley with its scattered villages.

A short lunch break saw us on the path again, as Piet had a deadline (flexible in Bhutan) to reach the Zorig Chusum (traditional arts and crafts) institute to judge a competition to design an embroidery for a tshirt to market as the Dzonghag symbols.  I was also very interested to see this work.

Maybe Baney Goempa ... or maybe another one...

In due course we reached the road and the waiting taxi to take us to the Zorig Chusum Institute, but there had been a misunderstanding about when the judging was to take place.

Final goodbyes were said to Piet over a plate of beef momo, negotiations made with the same taxi driver to return us to our villages, some fruit and vegetable and meat shopping done and the slow, but safe, journey back was made. 

A delightful, albeit brief, weekend.