Glimpses of Bhutan- Part 4- Footloose in Paro

Ta Dzong

Driving from Punakha to Paro, we arrive by afternoon at Ta Dzong that houses the National Museum. The Ta Dzong was built to serve as a watch tower for Rinpung Dzong of Paro. It is different from the other dzongs and monasteries we had visited, owing to its round shape. A place of interest for history buffs, the museum houses thangkas (Buddhist paintings on fabric depicting a deity or a scene), bronze statues, etc. There is also a section showcasing the natural history of the country.

I was particularly intrigued by the different animal masks at display in the museum. These masks are worn by dancers during the religious dances. The animal faces are used to represent different traits (greed, ignorance, jealousy), etc. The religious dances of Bhutan- as we learned from the audio-visual display in the museum- depict stories that impart religious teachings to the audience. The masks are usually made of coniferous wood. A dancer has to use cotton cloth for padding his face as the heavy mask can cause bruises.

The evening has descended and we are in a mood to relax. We check into our hotel and unwind ourselves at the riverside nearby.

Kyichu Lhakhang

The next day in Paro, after the usual heavy breakfast routine, we reach Kyichu Lhakhang. It is one of the oldest Lhakhangs (temples) of Bhutan; not an over-crowded touristy place, but a place of great cultural significance. Local people can be seen circumambulating the temple and moving the prayer wheels.

The prayer wheels of Kyichu Lhakhang

We proceed inside Kyichu Lhakhang compound and meet our guide. She begins to tell us about the history of Kyichu Lhakhang. In the 7^th century, a giant ogress was troubling Tibet and Bhutan by lying across the land. A Tibetan emperor called Songstan Gampo commenced the building of 108 Lhakhangs (at 108 points across her body) in order to subdue her. Legend says that all the 108 Lhakhangs or temples were built overnight at the same time.

The two orange trees in the compound of Kyichu Lhakhang are said to bear fruits all round the year. We keep our cameras inside our bags before we step into the temple, as per the norm.

Inside the main temple there are statues of Chenrezig (Avalokitesvara)- the Buddha of Compassion. The statue of Jowo Jamba (the future Buddha) is not accessible to visitors, and one can only see it through the wire mesh. A beautiful floral, edible looking- object kept in the temple catches my eye. Our guide tells us that these are ritual cakes- made from wheat flour and butter. They are offered to the deity, and once they start disintegrating, they are kept on a high place for birds to eat. Next to Kyichu Lhakhang is Guru Lhakhang, another temple in the same complex. Built in 1971, it has big statues of Guru Padmasambhava and Kurukalla. Kurukalla (the red Tara) holds and arrow and a bow of flowers- and is considered to be the Buddhist Goddess of Love. Offering our prayers, we come outside the temple complex.

Chelela

Our next destination was Chelela. It is the second highest motorable pass in Bhutan after 3988 meters, constructed under the umbrella of Project Dantak of the Border Roads Organisation. Going uphill from Paro, we began to gain altitude. While some were busy sighting yaks on the way, a few felt slight discomfort kicking in due to altitude. The place usually offers stunning view of the Himalayan ranges around, however sighting the Himalaya was not in our collective fate that day due to dense fog. It was a windy day and the prayer flags dotting the pass were fluttering wildly. Soon, sharp drops of rain started falling on us and we beated a hasty retreat.

School kids in Paro

However, as we were heading back, the slight disappointment that I had (of missing out on the beautiful panorama) was made up by what came ahead. Travelling back towards the city of Paro, we halted and step outside our car to greet a bunch of school kids going home. As I turn to move back towards the vehicle, I am greeted by one of the most beautiful sights I have ever laid my eyes on- a rainbow arching across the Paro valley!

The loveliest sight…ever!

Paro Dzong

Our next stop was Paro Dzong. Also called Rinpung Dzong, it houses the monastic body and government offices. I was puzzled by the presence of the district court  inside the dzong- but perhaps in a country like Bhutan, courts would be peaceful places that can be built right next to a monastery. The dzong guide takes us around the dzongs, explaining minute details. Wearing special cloth slippers, he glides (rather than walk) across the inner sanctum. ‘This keeps the floor clean’, he explains.

A monk in making

What stood out for me in the intricately embellished insides of the dzong was the statue of twelve year old Lord Buddha. The dzong guide explains that young boys are sent to the place- mostly by their parents- to live the life of a monk. They learn and live here- learning the teachings of Buddhism and living the austere life of a monk. The statue of Lord Buddha as a child is enshrined here to inspire these little monks on the path of sacrifice and righteousness!

As we head outside, I see a man heading inside with thick golden envelopes tucked under his arm. Invitation cards for some special ritual inside the dzong, perhaps? When I could not contain my curiosity, I enquire. ‘Certificates of merit signed by the King for the students acing the matriculation exams’- comes the reply. Education- traditional or modern- is highly valued in the country and provided free of cost to all the citizens by the government. No wonder, this is the world’s happiest country.

The golden envelopes contain merit certificates for students- signed by nonetheless but His Majesty!

Trek to Taktsang Monastery

A red and white structure perched high up in the mountains- the image of the Taktsang Monastary is iconic of Bhutan tourism. The Taktsang Monastary houses the caves where Guru Rinpoche meditated for several months. It is believed the Guru Rinpoche rode all the way up here on a Tigress’s back-  hence the name Taktsang or Tiger’s nest.

The mighty Taktsang!

Probably the best should be saved for the last, and may be that is why Monil had arranged for us to go on this trek towards the end of our trip.The high altitude of this enchanting trek demands zeal and patience. The parking area at the valley floor has locals renting out walking sticks to help you balance your way upwards. There are horses available too- yes you can cover considerable part of the trail on horseback while ascending. However, you need to descend by yourself (the horses will throw off even the most clingiest rider on their crazy downhill run). A local suggests us to take horses, ‘at least for the girls’- and now offended, the girls are charged to walk all the way up.

The valley floor

We began our walk upwards, huffing and puffing, in the thin air of the high Himalaya.  And whenever we would stop to catch our breath, the sight of the glorious Himalaya all around us would leave us pondering on the insignificance of humanity. How minute and perishable are our lives, in front on these mountains standing tall since centuries!

The last part of the trail has stairways, and we halt again for some pictures. More and more prayer flags would adorn the way as the holy site comes nearer. A waterfall holds our attention as we come quiet near to our destination. But we are urged to move ahead and we finally complete our ascend.

The temple complex requires visitors to submit all the belongings. We meet our local guide who takes us inside the temple complex and enlightens us about the deities in different parts of the temple. While entry was permitted into Guru Rinpochhe’s cave, the ladder leading down in the cave was a bit too risqué for the faint hearted ones- so I choose to peer long and hard from the top. We offer silent prayers with our guide guaranteeing us that our wishes will be definitely fulfilled (well, no harm in trying!)

While going uphill was demanding on our lungs, walking down the mountain was a task for our knees and toes. Where as around us, the locals were sprinting up and down the hill. I was amazed at a young Bhutanese father carrying his baby girl all the way up to the monastery and back to the valley. And as I finally complete the descend, I come across cyclists going uphill on their mountain bikes! So much grit and stamina!

Winding up with a Hot Stone Bath

The tired legs of the city bums demanded relaxation after trek. The evening was spent in indulging in hot stone bath- heated stones from river bed are used to heat water, and the water has herbs soaked in it. Water would be let in through an inlet in a wooden bath, and soaking yourself in this tub is expected to cure your aches and troubles. Well, in a 40 minute session, it took me 10-15 whole minutes just to get inside (the water in my tub was so hot that no amount of cold water seemed to lessen its scalding properties). The next 15 minutes were relaxation followed by a near black out experience. At this point, I minutely checked the herbs floating the water and though it wasn’t Cannabis, the effect was potent enough. Since I am mildly claustrophobic, I am at unease sitting in a tub with curtains drawn around me. I jump outside, and let blackness engulf my senses for the next ten minutes. When I come back to full awareness, I wait for others to complete their indulgence.

Saying good bye

Among all the places I have ever been to, the sense of calm I experienced in Bhutan was unparalleled. The warm and welcoming people had swept me off with their hospitality. And the friendship I built with my fellow travelers was rare and I shall cherish it forever.

Above all, the assurance that the Bhutanese government and the people will never let their land be spoiled for extra riches soothes me.

The mountains, the pristine air, the silence- they will all speak to me in my dreams- asking me to come gain. As I stand on the border of India and Bhutan, I realize the meaning of what Kipling wrote several years ago-

“And the last puff of the day-wind brought from the unseen villages the scent of damp wood-smoke, hot cakes, dripping undergrowth, and rotting pine-cones. That is the true smell of the Himalayas, and if once it creeps into the blood of a man, that man will at the last, forgetting all else, return to the hills to die.”

–          Rudyard Kipling