Part 4 Aug 9^th  2011

Thimpu

The next day dawned with a clear blue sky and no clutter of an itinerary in mind. We had a leisurely breakfast at the hotel and proceeded towards the reception desk for some directions. There was already a family there and I don’t know why our arrival affected the visitor but he started stammering, "We need a 3 bedroom room." As the receptionist raised her eyebrows he said, "sorry! We need three rooms with a bed.”
Sudha and I started giggling, ignoring the hard stare from the man's wife and son. In the end the poor guy got it right and we could proceed with our enquiries. The girl parroted some names like the National memorial, BBS tower, a zoo etc for the city tour of Thimpu. She suggested we hire a taxi to visit these places which would be convenient. But we weren’t in the mood to be tourists and thought we would just roam around and enjoy the day. The decision taken we set off in a random direction. We took the turns we wanted, if a high roof beckoned we moved in its direction, clicked pictures and moved on. Thus taking right, then left, then right and God knows what we reached the National memorial. It is a courtyard with roads running alongside and a Stupa placed in the center. The whole atmosphere was extremely communal. There were elders sitting in a group, some reciting chants some just gossiping. A few were busy with their grandchildren. There were young mothers cajoling their offsprings; and ofcourse the tourists. But what was holding our attention was a sea of pigeons, on the lawns, on the roof top, every plane. And just I was clicking, in a moment at an invisible signal they all took flight! Now the sky was sprinkled with grey dots. How does one describe the occurrence; just that lightless feeling when one wants to fly. We went towards the central white stupa and did the prescribed ambulation, admired the quaint wooden structures on the side. Afterwards we just sat down to take in the atmosphere all around us. The breeze was blowing mildly taking me to that street on Singapore where I had seen people in a similar display of true community living. I have heard there are similar scenes in Hong Kong under the bridges. And I longed for it to be replicated in India.

 

 

In the same mood we reached a bridge over the river Thimpu Chuu which looked like the centre of the city. The structures mushroomed in a more or less uniform way around it climbing high into the surrounding hills. There our eyes fell on a bright yellow, pagoda style roof. It looked majestic and beckoned us. We started moving towards it, first walking on a long, endless road which looked arterial. There was a group of students walking ahead of us who turned on the way into a building which looked like a college. Munching on what must be the state of education we too turned on a uphill road towards our yellow roof. This looked like a high-end residential neighbourhood. There were bungalows and cottages with substantial gardens all around. On the way we came across a youth center, on close inspection the nameplate informed us it was a gesture of friendship from the Indian government. Again diverting from our destination we entered it to have a look. We had some tea in the cafeteria while inspecting the Indian government’s goodwill work. I was actually impressed that there is some activity on the diplomatic front.

The yellow roof still looked afar and the sun shone more brightly making a couple of thirsty crows out of us. After taking another spiral road we reached what looked like a retreat faraway in the woods. The scorching sun of a moment before was invisible here. It was so peaceful that it took a moment to get used to it. We proceeded on a pathway winding upwards after crossing a small quaint bridge over an even smaller stream. A notice board was perched on the side informing every visitor to be dressed in formals or the national Bhutanese dress before entering the premises. This was one of the thing we were noticing since yesterday; the pride the Bhutanese took in parading their national dress, a kimono sort of thing for men and a wrap around skirt for women paired with a full sleeve shirt. The cloth used was of a typical linear print not too far removed from other common patterns repeated around the windows etc. What was amazing was the miniscule no of people in the younger generation following the western dressing style. Because of this uniformity in dress there was that feeling of a costume drama out of a fairytale. Just imagine one day everyone on the streets here in India wearing kurta-pyjamas and sarees. What an absolutely delectable atmosphere it would create! Though we took notice of the sign we proceeded ahead. Climbing the stone steps we stood on the veranda of this ancient Buddhist temple. This stone temple was about 15m tall and about 50 sqm in area. There was a buzz around with devotees and monks making their ambulation. Entering inside was synonymous to stepping back in time. The mud plastered walls, the chants, the multicoloured Chinese silk curtain embroidered probably centuries before and there the peaceful Buddha sitting amidst all this. It was a bit chilly in here, typical to stone structures. After paying our respects we moved out and joined the people circulating around. There were two old monks giggling like naughty schoolchildren and teasing a lady monk in between. A delightful scene as much as the Buddha sitting inside.

 

Coming down the stone steps once more we came across pathways leading to smaller shrines probably dedicated to monks. The city was spread out in front of us. I clicked and clicked some more. The panoramic view of the enclosing mountains the blue river flowing like a ribbon flying in between, the small two storeyed buildings rising from the green carpet of grass. It was a painter's dream. I know I'm repeating myself but I can’t help it. After taking in as much as we can, it was time to move on. We came tumbling down, literally.

Once down, again amidst the plains we now moved to the otherside of the arterial road. Here we came across the Thailand- Bhutan friendship memorial. Bhutan seems to be quite a ‘friendly’ country. The park was empty except a old man pushing his granddaughter on the swing. Passing them we started back towards out hotel and the city centre.

I was excited to see the city centre as I knew it was designed by Pune based architect Christopher Beninger. It didn’t turn out as I had expected. But its proportions, look were exactly what a city square should look like. There is a central obelisk/memorial around which an empty square is arranged with a few benches thrown in. A line of shops, mostly galleries define the edge. The beauty of the place is the line of weeping willows planted along the edge shared with the road. But it was too sunny to sit and bask in its atmosphere, and we moved towards our hotel, two blocks away. After a sumptuous meal with Sudha experimenting and me going with the tried and tested Palak paneer. Later we retired to our rooms for an hour. When tea beckoned we moved out again.
This time we started in the opposite direction taken in the morning. Looking through display windows of some sports equipment shops, we realised Bhutan's Olympic sport is archery. Promising each other that we would look out for them in the next Olympic we looked around for a cafe. As we came out on a perpendicular street; a panoramic view stretched before us. It was the national stadium, but nothing like a modern steel/pre fabricated structure. This one was designed to fit in the city, in Bhutan; unlike the modern day structures having no personality of their own, to be fit on any site anywhere in the world. There and then I realised that I was visiting one of the most 'individual' nation. These people nor ape the west and are neither antagonistic towards them. They are so content with their history, culture, life in general that it reflects in their dress, buildings, behaviour; actually on their faces. Self knowledge creates this unaffectedness towards the outside world. Buddha should have been proud of this middle path followed by this picturesque, beautiful nation.

Sudha nudged me to try and see the insides, I was sceptical for security reasons. But it was a cake walk; we entered it like it was a park. There were a couple of people practising their football skills who chatted with us. But I was too overwhelmed to remember the conversation. The place was a treat to the eyes with its traditional architecture surrounding the playing field. The king’s gallery, the public sitting area, the entrance gates; all of them so much in character. That tea was still beckoning and we moved out again in its quest. The surrounding wide roads took us to some official buildings, although quite beautiful. It was still around four in the afternoon and we started to think about filling the day. We remembered the zoo! But having no idea of its location we decided to take a taxi ride. Thus summoning one we hopped in and told the guy to take us to the zoo. Since yesterday every Bhutanese we met was warm, friendly, not too personal, and ofcourse English speaking. And little did we know that this guy was going to open a field of information in front of us. After deciding on the fare, we started a conversation. On perceiving that we were Indians visiting Bhutan for the first time he immediately donned the invisible 'guide' cap and gave us the first local insight into the place. The reason the Bhutanese were this comfortable with the 'English' language was their education system. Being one of the compulsory subjects till high school and having well qualified teachers, mostly from the Indian state of Kerala the masses of this 'faraway', landlocked nation aren’t at a sea with the world. I could see Sudha encompassed in the warmth of hearing praise about one's native place. By this time we had started climbing upwards, which my orientation told me was diagonally opposite to the morning hill. If the morning neighbourhood was upper class this was the crème la crème for sure. Our guide told us these were all ministerial residences with high securities and higher walls. He told us how their dearest Oxford educated king abolished monarchy and laid the foundation for a democracy. The whole city was abuzz with the king's impending wedding in coming October. It is endearing to see the subjects love their king and celebrate his life as their own. Whether it was a home or hotel the decor was incomplete without a picture of their dear king, his presence not out of compulsion or authority but with love and respect. It was truly a remarkable thing, a king giving away his 'powers' for his people but the people holding on to him. I wasn’t born in the times of selfless national leaders being 'loved' by their people in India but here I saw it firsthand.

The avenue of trees had hid the sun by now. We were moving through woods and finally reached the zoo. It wasn’t a conventional one, but by now we were used to this atypical country. Our guide told us he would wait till we were ready to leave as we wouldn’t get a taxi back to the city. Looking around we realised he was right. The way was through woods, I should say dense woods with those familiar Himalayan temperate trees. Nothing pleases me more than a birch or oak, bliss. The notice informed us about 'Takin' the national animal of Bhutan and here we saw him behind the fence grazing. No, they aren’t kept in cages. It was a queer looking thing, I hadn’t even heard of him before. It is a mix of a goat and a cow. A mythical story was written nearby about a monk and the Takin and how it came to be as it is today. After reading it we rushed back to our waiting taxi.

 

The guide suggested this time we take a more circular route back so that he would show us more sights on the way. We acquiesced and then came out of the woodland. A little ahead he pointed out a cluster of green roofs which housed the administrative departments. A little farther on the there was a modest looking white structure, which we were told was the new king's palace.

 

When we enquired about the location of an airport, he told us that there was none in Thimpu and the country's only one was in Paro, a city two and half hours away. It has a cliff-hanger monastery, absolutely spectacular. We wished we had kept a spare day in hand to go there but maybe this will bring us again to this beautiful country. From here we again started our journey to the city centre, where he pointed out the 'Taj Tashi', Thimpu's first 5 star hotel. Just next door was the 'Nehru- Wangchuck' centre, a mark of friendship between the two nations. A cultural- exchange place, named after the first Indian prime-minister and the famous Bhutanese king. We got down here and bid goodbye to our guide and new friend. The Nehru- Wangchuck centre houses a dance centre, yoga hall, a music room, a library etc. We made a bee line towards the library; though it wasn’t very extensively stacked I could see works from S. Radhakrishnan to Vikram Seth. There were Volumes of translations of the 'puranas'. Everything I like, philosophy to mythology to well, Vikram Seth. Oh how I wished at that moment that I was living in Thimpu!

 

 

 

Standing on the balcony of this centre you can peep into the entrance courtyard of Taj tashi, a very impressive architectural structure built keeping in mind the host country’s heritage. Reluctantly, we moved on our way out, still looking for that afternoon cup of tea. If I would have had a crystal bowl, I would have known the cup of tea was going to be extremely elusive throughout the trip. We had oriented ourselves by now and had a fair idea of our current location and our hotel. Keeping that in mind, we started exploring the place( another purpose was to find the 'tourist centre' to collect more  information about Bhutan). As we rounded the corner we actually came across the main entrance gate for Taj Tashi. And lo behold what do I see here- a low, long, growling, red car! A Ferrari! I admit I was till date unaffected by the charms of a Ferrari, maybe because I had never seen it in real. There is a difference of hills and mountains in seeing it there in front of you, the engine growling like a wild animal, sneaking past. Wow! My first viewing of a Ferrari! There and then it claimed the top spot in my favourite car's list. After an eternity we came out of our trance and went in pursue of the tourist centre. After going back and forth for more than half an hour we decided to quit our chase and instead move now in the direction of our hotel. Here we came across the local handicraft shop. A two storied structure, looking very much Victorian, together with the tastefully done interiors. The display was quite interesting including everything from clothes to jewellery to books to handicrafts. I picked up a papier-mâché mask of a creature looking like something between a dragon and a demon. This was for a personal reason.

Every time I used to see this collection of masks or any exotic souvenirs at anyone's house parties, I used to grudge my homebody parents. Well, after a while I did realise one has to cultivate one's own farm, and not expect the crop there all ready for us to be harvested. Hmmm. Wisdom does come gradually. Hence this hobby of collecting masks, my first is from Sri Lanka. It is my theory that masks from a place has the mark of that particular civilization right from its onset. The lines and the curves, the eyes and expressions, all are a representation of the time that has passed and the time that is yet to come. Extremely happy with my souvenir, we marched towards our hotel. As we window shopped on our way back we saw a lady with her ware spread out on the pavement. The green and red things of all sizes and shapes were nothing but chillies! Immediately the taste of yesterday's lunch was there in my mouth, immediately making my eyes watery. On enquiry she said there were five different types of chillies and all had a prominent use in a Bhutanese's everyday meal. It was assuring that it wasn’t a conspiracy against me yesterday. I picked up a 'I love Bhutan' T shirt and a bag too on the way, in between we also learned the traditional way to drape the  Bhutanese skirt, quite ingenious. It was around six in the evening now and that pinkish glow had started to spread, with everything looking mellow. A tea had now become a necessity. We reached our hotel restaurant and obliged.

Moving out again after tea, we went in the only direction left to explore. We realised that this was the route we had taken while returning for lunch in the afternoon. And so we started making our way towards the city-centre piazza. After reaching the square, on the left side we came across a bookshop named 'Junction'. Being bibliophiles we had to go in and explore. The place was a pleasant surprise with its soft lighting and wooden racks. Sudha immediately exclaimed, "Oxford". Yes indeed it was so Oxford-ish. We started moving through the aisles, discussing this author, that book. I was mostly listening as Sudha is a veteran in books with an ocean of knowledge about them. Getting introduced to so many classics, it was extremely uplifting! Here and there were handwritten recommendations in various sections; again so Oxford-isque I was told by Sudha. As we moved around, we noticed the presence of two girls, one at the teller machine and another probably her acquaintance. Beyond this cash counter was a children's section and a loft above. A notice informed us it was space designated for the 'reading club'. Ummm that was interesting. On our way out Sudha complimented the proprietor on the place and made enquiries on the response for the reading club. She replied in the affirmative, "it was building up". I was looking around and came across a notice board with lots of sticky notes. They were actually 'answers' for 'what is that one memory you remember from your nursery school?' There were amazing responses, some funny some sentimental to some philosophical. I sensed that this place had loyal patrons and judging by the no. of answers, many. Sudha was still engaged in her conversation with this girl-owner. By this time the girl had disclosed of her education in India-schooling in Darjeeling and college in Pune. Pune, I was interested. She further told us after completing her graduation in mass communication she wanted to go into publishing, especially to promote local Bhutanese writers. Here she realised there weren’t many locals and the Bhutanese literature owed it to foreign author- namely travelogues and translations. Hence she decided on a book shop. She frankly mentioned that setting up the business wasn’t difficult; her grandfather owned the whole building in which the shop was located. Her father's furniture firm helped with the interiors. And she worked on everything else that goes in it. We realised she was being modest once she described the tedious ways of ordering the books and contacting the publishers. Sudha actually wants to venture in this direction of a very 'individual' bookshop sometime in the future, and they both exchanged contacts. A thought crossed my mind. I too wanted to be a bookshop owner; I could picture me doing that. But ofcourse, my plans weren’t either as finite or as detailed as Sudha's and I kept mum. Coming back from the future to the present i.e. the bookshop in Bhutan we said our goodbyes and moved towards the piazza. Children were playing around as we had imagined in the morning. There were hassled mums and courting couples too to complete the picture. We sat there each with our own thoughts till our hungry stomachs beckoned towards the restaurant. Staying in character Sudha experimented with some rice and I predictably ordered for my Palak Paneer. Calling the day off wasn’t an effort; we could sleep on our feet. And the thought of the whole of tomorrow on the road put us to sleep immediately.