The original Hotel Mothitang sat at the end of a forest road winding up through farmland from Thimphu. My spartan room was "heated" by two small electric coil heaters which cast a red glow providing warmth for anyone sitting within a foot. It was February; freezing in the outside shade. I had two heaters in my room and wore my down coat, down pants, down slippers and gloves in an attempt to stay warm. As far as I could tell, I was the only guest in the large hotel.
Our hike began from the hotel next morning, crossed a stream and followed a dirt path up through the forest toward Phajoding Monastery (11,500'). It look out from a hillside high above Thimphu. According to sources today, Phojoding Monastery was one of the richest and most decorated monasteries in Bhutan. We departed around 8am and passed a mani wall marking the Monastery grounds by 1130. We had our packed lunch on the steps of the Monastery, then I wandered the grounds. My guide and driver approached while I was observing some wall paintings, said they would meet me at the hotel and walked off. Shortly thereafter, I turned to retrace my steps, but could not find them. I was on my second solo hike in Bhutan.
Late afternoon, back at the hotel, the two places that provided some warmth were the dining room and the lounge. I could relax in these two rooms without wearing my down jacked and down pants.
"Dinner for one, please."
Of course, they knew that already. I had no problem getting a table for dinner nor did my meal take much time to prepare and serve. Perhaps there were advantages to being the only guest. After dinner, I wasn't interested in curling up in bed wearing my down clothes, so I looked for the lounge.
It was quiet with low lights. A man, dressed in a grey Gho with white shirt, sat on one of the colorful wool covered benches along the wall. He looked up when I entered and invited me to sit with him. He introduced himself, asked my thoughts about Bhutan and, during our conversation, casually mentioned that he was a member of Bhutan's Court.
"Do you know about the Black-Necked Crane?" he inquired.
"I'm aware of cranes, but I haven't heard of a Black-Necked Crane." I replied.
"Would you like to see some?" he asked.
"Of course, I would." I responded.
Next morning, Dasho Paljor Jigme Dorji (known fondly as Dasho Benji) picked me up at the hotel in his land cruiser and we made the two day drive to the black-necked crane winter roosting grounds in the Phobjika valley. We spent the night in a farmhouse overlooking the valley and, next morning with binoculars, observed the cranes feeding in the frosty fields. I learned several years later that Dasho Benji was an advisor to King Jigme Singye Wangchuck, was Bhutan's 1st High Court Chief Justice, founded the Royal Society for the Protection of Nature in 1987, co-authored "The Middle Path" (Bhutan's first National Environmental Strategy) and founded both the Bhutan Ornithological Society and Bhutan Ecological Society.
On my departure day from Bhutan, at breakfast, I was invited to come out onto a flat sunny grass patch in front of the hotel. I was directed to the one chair. Soon the clash of cymbals introduced a parade of dancers circling in front of me. I sat spellbound for the 30 minute masked dance performance for this audience of one. I was struck by the beauty of the stag dancer's masks and, afterward, asked the leader if such a mask was available anywhere for purchase. He invited me to their warehouse studio in town and asked me to pick the mask that I wanted from the row of stag masks on their practice room wall.
Our plane taxied down the runway and lifted off through the narrow Paro valley, across farmer's brown winter fields and over the 12,000' passes toward Kolkata India. I left Bhutan, stag mask at my side, wanting to return.
And I did. I will share a few of those visits in future posts.
 |
| Trashigang Tshechu |
__________________________________________________________________________
"A photograph shatters the glass between present and past."
"Photography books are to adults what illustrated books are to children."
"A photograph is a bullet shot from the past into the present."
Omar Khan, Forward to In the Shadows of the Himalayas (2005)
