Skip to main content

9/16/10

Four months have passed since my pilgrimage to Bhutan, and with each one, I slip further away from the inner source that I discovered in the company of Buddhist monks, my sangha, and hundreds of ancient Buddhas.  The silver threads of connection worn down by life in the real world; the center under seige by self-doubt and distraction.  I do not like this slipping.

And so I return to my journal.  Or should I say, my journal returns to me.  I nearly forgot I had carried it with me those two weeks.  Thank goodness I did.

***

September 16, 2010            

Bhutan!

Arise at 3:30am, feeling fully rested and excited. Board bus to airport, check-in at ticket-counter, realize I've left my iPhone at the hotel in downtown Bangkok.  Call hotel, recover phone (which they will keep until my return), eat breakfast, and board the plane--DrukAir, the only airline in the country.  Ascending into the sky, we fly under a rainbow.  An auspicious sign for an auspicious journey.

We see Mt. Everest from the air.  A giant alone among the clouds.

And then, Bhutan.  To see shadows beyond clouds and realize they are mountains.  Rolling majesties of mountains.  Covered in forest, deep green cut by deep valleys.

Landed at small airport. Immediately overcome with sense of profound calm and happy energy.  I am not making this up.

Bhutan is made up of 20 provinces.  The airport was established in 1993.  Democracy established in 2008 after 100 years of monarchy.  A new King was crowned in 2008.  He reigns alongside his father, the former King.  They are called K4 and K5.  Television arrived in Bhutan just 11 years ago, in 1999.  Mobile service arrived the year after.  India provides major support to the government.

We are in Eastern Himalaya--to the north, bordered by "the" China, all other borders shared with "the" India. Natives call this country "Druk Yun," which means Land of the Thunder Dragon.  Bhutan is the western name.

From the airport, drive on the road to Thimpu, the capital, along the river Panhu.

***

Basic Dzongkha (native language, phonetic spelling):
Greetings and well wishes--Kuzuzangpola
Goodbye--Log Jay Gay
Thank you--Ga Din Jay
Tasty--Zhim Bay
No more, thanks--Me Zhu
I like to eat spicy--Na ema sane
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Name of the New Game

Four years ago I moved home to be a part of a growing movement for civil rights and social justice in the South. I have learned many, many lessons and found great clarity along the way.  In these four years, I have confirmed that the Southern Powers That Be are— surprise —still quite conservative. Not only in political persuasion, but perhaps more consequentially in tolerance of risk, of trying new things, of investing in people and ideas that have moved the needle towards justice and equality.  In these four years, I have also confirmed my long-held belief that— surprise again —the South is not universally conservative. Courageous Southerners (native and adopted!) are working on reversing all manner of injustices incurred in this generation and those long past—from public education to women’s rights to justice reform and beyond. Many are my friends. All of them are my heroes.  And after four years of Life-As-A-Progressive-Southerner-Living-In-The-South, I ha...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Incident

About two months ago, a man attacked me on my street.  I was walking home from dinner on a Tuesday night.  The street lights were bright, as was my mood.  I remember feeling particularly good about life.  And then he approached me from behind, grabbed me (not my purse), and turned my world upside down.  Three days after The Incident, bolstered by incredible support from friends, family and coworkers, I was in therapy.  Not the scary kind, but the comforting you-should-get-this-out-before-it-scars-you kind.  I couldn't stand the idea that this one person had instantly changed my character--that he had made me reconsider my notions of humanity and respect. Before The Incident, I was a person that loved someone before I met them; the girl who smiles and says hello to strangers on the street. All of the sudden, I couldn't bear sunlight on my own.  Walking from my front door to my car--a mere 100 yards away--was a journey of epic proportions, eac...
2 comments
Read more

Delinquent/Standard

I have been a delinquent contributor to my own life.  Thus, my absence on my blog.  I've let go, lost focus.  Fumbling on the thread of balance, I am a distracted version of the self I want to be.  *** There's this Standard.  It's something I've always held myself to, even when I was a little girl.  I was always quick to admit guilt or shortcoming, even before my parents or teachers had a chance to point it out.  I figured if I fessed up ahead of time, I would be a step ahead in the right direction.  That much closer to being better.  I have always wanted to be better.  Never good enough as I am.  And so I have lived my days, pursuing a standard set only by myself, expected only by my own imagination, and threatened only by my own demons. I do not feel sorry for myself with this Standard.  Our world is filled with them.  Those we seek; those we avoid.  Standards we contrive on our own (hello, adolescent Caroli...
1 comment
Read more