26 July
6:15 pm BTT, Thimphu
I was chilling
at my room at hotel Phuntsho Pelri after the day’s outing. I had my comics and
books stacked on the coffee table and my earphones sprawled on the bed. I
wondered what Kevin and Rufus were doing at home and picked up my phone.
“Kevin!”
“Hey! How
is Bhutan treating you?”
“Bhutan has
been awesome so far! How is the house without me? You miss me, don’t you? And
Rufus? I miss you both. The room is nice, but the sandwich wasn’t…oh and I tried
archery! Then-“
“Slow down,
slow down,” he laughed, cutting into my excited rant. “Now take a deep breath
and tell me how your day was.”
*****
26 July
7:30 am BTT, Paro
The Landing
announcement already? I had just been on a running marathon since the wee hours
this morning and had only sunk in my seat and was hoping for a nice long nap. Contrary
to what was printed on my ticket, Kolkata to Paro took only about 40 minutes. I
was there already!
The air was
cool, the skies were blue…yeah, much like that Westlife song. With a smile,
sleepy me walked into the airport. There were two queues for immigration here.
One for foreign nationals and the other for SAARC countries. I happily walked
to the SAARC queue.
Bhutan is
one of those countries where Indians get Visa on arrival. Also, their currency Ngultrum
is pegged to the Indian rupee. That means 1 Indian rupee equals 1 Bhutan Ngultrum
always. Indian currency is accepted at almost all places (except for those
places that already have had the bad experience of getting counterfeit 500 and
1000 rupee notes).
Immigration
was done in a Jiffy, local sim card bought and after letting Kevin know that I made
it successfully thus far, and I stepped out into the Paro morning. I spotted a
smiling face holding a placard with my name. My guide for the trip, Chencho. He
was wearing a Gho, like all the natives there. I remembered an image from TinTin
in Tibet, where TinTin was sporting a similar attire. It’s like a knee length
kimono of sorts, tied at the wait with a traditional belt.
“Ms.
Reshma? Welcome to Bhutan!” Chencho welcomed me with a firm hand shake.
“Thank
you!”
He led me
to our car and introduced me to the driver. Sange. I was pleased to see this
happy faced woman, also in the traditional Bhutan attire - the Kira skirt and
Tega jacket. She was chewing on betel leaves and opened the door for me. The car
smelt of fresh lemon grass.
We were off
to my hotel in Thimphu, the capital of Bhutan. We stopped by a Dzong (That
means a fortress) on the way, for a quick Photo break. Before Bhutan was united by its first king Ugyen
Wangchuck in 1907, it was 20 separate provinces, and each of them had at least
one Dzong.
It stood of
with its predominant white and red against the backdrop of the green mountains
and the river that we followed from the airport. Prayer flags stretched from
its walls to the river banks and they fluttered with the gentle wind. They say
the wind can read the prayers and in Bhutan, you’ll see the prayer flags
outdoors, almost everywhere. The 5 different colours on the flags represent
each of the elements: Green for Wood, Blue for water, white for air, red for
fire and yellow for earth.
“Indian
Oil?” I exclaimed as I saw the familiar logo at a Petrol pump as we approached
Thimphu.
“Yes. We
import petrol from India. Also, it was after Nehru’s visit to Bhutan, that we
started developing roads in Bhutan, with India’s help. We have a very good
relationship with your country.” Chencho replied.
“Interesting”,
I smiled.
“Which
place in Thimphu would you like to visit today?”
“Hmmm…what
would you recommend? I am a little tired from travelling”
“You had
little sleep?”
“I had no
sleep! I was out since 11ish last night…”
“Oh! Okay.
We’ll go only to the Simply Bhutan Museum this afternoon. Make up for all the
sleep you lost and tomorrow we’ll have lots of places to see”
“Sure” I
agreed.
I checked
into Hotel Phuntsho Pelri. Similar to almost all other buildings here, the
hotel had the traditional Bhutanese architecture. The part near the roof
reminded me of jenga blocks. Food, rest and 2 comics later, Chencho and Sange
reached at the exact time as promised and we were off to the Simply Bhutan
museum.
“Reshma,”
called Chencho as we stepped out of our car, “This is a new museum. It started
operating only from 2010. It was constructed as advised by our queen mother and
all the profits from this museum is used to rehabilitate the youth.”
At the
entrance there was this pretty young girl who introduced herself as the museum
guide. She gave me a brief introduction to Bhutan again, while Chencho quizzed
playfully.
“Before we
proceed in, you need to have our welcome drink,” she said and took out a wooden
wine jar.
“This is
made from wheat” She poured it out in a small wooden bowl for me.
“It is
strong!”
“It is
similar to the Japanese Sake,” she explained.
When I
handed my little bowl back, she poured me another one, saying a second helping
is customary, else it indicates the guest isn’t pleased with the hospitality.
Happy me.
This place
had a lot of traditional Bhutanese artifacts, wall paintings, a live kitchen…
Some of them reminded me of the old kitchen back at my home when we had the
ural, ulakka, ammi kallu etc.
I could
write pages about how she explained how the wine was brewed, how the festivals
in the paintings were actually celebrated, how Chencho quizzed her while she
did her job, I tried on a Kira and Tego to get my picture clicked in them…But
let’s move on to Butter tea.
Now this is
a salty, buttery tea, called Po Cha, often paired with puffed rice. My guide led
me to the open restaurantish space, let me pick a table and served me a hot Po
cha. I did tell her I’m not a tea person or a butter person but she insisted I
try a sip anyways. It definitely wasn’t my cup of tea, but I think all tea
lovers should give it a shot.
My guide
called some of the other staff at the museum and they all danced to Bhutanese
music. Chencho joined in and tried to get me dance too!
At the next
stall, there were intricate wood carvings in Bhutanese designs. I saw a person
working away with his feet.
“Have you
heard of Pema before?” my guide asked
“No”
“As you can
see, Pema is differently abled. He had the chance to meet our queen mother
during one of the events and she wanted to help this young boy. He was sent to
the School of Art, taught to carve and paint and was given this stall in this
museum. This is how he earns his livelihood.”
Pema
smiled.
I picked up
a little round wood carved wall hanging to take back home. Before he packed it
for me, he signed it with his feet and put his seal on it too. I have seen how
differently abled people do similar things on social media, but seeing it up close,
in front of your eyes is a different feeling altogether.
The next few stalls had traditional Bhutanese textiles
and artsy things for sale. The traditional weaving machinery were kept for
display as well.
The last
stop before leaving the premises was the archery spot. Archery is Bhutan’s
national sport. Here, they had the traditional bow and modern arrows. A
rectangular wooden target was placed a few yards away.
“Give it a
shot,” my guide said as she gave me the bow and arrow.
I took them,
aimed and knocked like I had seen Merida do in Brave, and fired.
The arrow
was nowhere close to the target.
“You can
try again!” she chirped, getting me another arrow. She showed me where to place
my thumb and how to position my arms and…Whoosh! No. No luck again.
Chencho
joined us now and he took a turn.
“Hey, mine
was better!” I laughed as his arrow didn’t hit the mark.
“Watch me
now”, he said as he struck a bull’s eye.
“Oh”
“I practice
during my spare time”, he said with a smile.
“I don’t
think this is my sport,” I said handing the bow over to the museum guide. While
she reluctantly took it back, she said, “It’s good luck to hit before you leave”
“Try once
more,” encouraged Chencho.
“Okay, last
shot,” I said taking the bow and an arrow.
It was no
bull’s eye, but I did hit the target board. I could now leave the museum
happily.
*****
26 July
6:35 pm BTT, Thimphu
“You sure
had an interesting day,” said Kevin when I gave him a pause to speak, finally.
“Yes!”
“Good. Try
something new for dinner.”
“I will! I’m
going to read for a bit until dinner. I’ll tell you how it was.”
“Okay,
then. Bye. Rufus says bye too”
I glanced
at my stack of comics wondering which one I should pick up.
My ringtone interrupted me. It was Appa.
“Hello
Appa!”
“Hello
Reshma…eh? You’re going on a trip sometime?
“Huh? Appa I’m
already in Bhutan like I…”
“Oh…It’s
Kevin’s gift? Mol…looks like Reshma might leave on a short trip…it’s Kevin’s
gift”
Okay. I see
what he’s doing now. He hadn’t told Amma yet, and now he’s trying to make it
sound like I miiight go on a trip sometime in the near future, just because the
husband wanted to give me that experience as a gift. Well played!
That
thought strand had not even completed in my head when I heard:
“Rajetta!
What did you just say? Where is she? (Takes his phone) RESHMA???”
“Yes, Amma?”
“Where are
you going?”
“Um…I…it’s…”
“You cannot
go! Go anywhere you want to with Kevin, but you can’t go alone!”
I kept
quiet. She hung up.
I called
Kevin.
“So Amma
just called me!”
“And? Has
your dad told her yet?”
“I don’t
think so, he was trying to do this trick call thingy…”
“Hey, give
me a minute, I’ll call you back”
6:10 pm IST, Bangalore
Our Balcony.
Kevin chilling with a can of beer and Rufus at his feet.
"Hey, give me a minute, I'll call you back", he said, as he took the incoming call on his phone.
“Uh…Hello?”
“HELLO?
Where is Reshma?” That’s my mom.
“She…She’s
out”
“Out? Out
where?”
“Uh…Bhutan?”
“Bhutan??
When is she coming back?”
“Monday”
“Monday??
When are you going?”
“I’m not…it’s
her trip”
“But. It’s
her birthday in two days, you are going, right?”
“No…”
“Surprise?
Is it a surprise?”
“No…”
“Oh! (Aside)
Rajetta! How long were you in on this???”
6:50 pm, BTT
I had
settled with a Jughead comic when Kevin called me again.
“Your mom
had called me…”
“What? She called
you? I was trying to tell you that Appa hadn’t told her yet and that we were
trying to do this...”
“She knows
now. I think you should call her...”
He told me
the content of their short call.
“Guess I
should call her, then,” I resigned.
“Good Luck!”
he smirked as he hung up.
What was
exchanged in our call can be summarized like so: She accused me of shortening
her expected lifespan by 5 years, and I lost my appetite for dinner.
But then,
it was relieving to know that she finally knew and that nothing’s going to
change the fact that I was still in Bhutan. I went back to my books for the
night and made up for all that lost sleep.
