Bhutan

‘Isolation’ is the most accurate term I can think of to describe Bhutan, and I mean it in the best sense of the word. Early this morning my flight from Bangkok descended below the clouds into a network of narrow mountain valleys in Western Bhutan. The approach to the Paro International Airport; Bhutan's only airport, necessitates a series of wide, banking turns, as the pilot navigates through lush, pine-covered valleys before making a final drop to the country's only runway.

Bhutan is a county that values an unspoiled culture and a stress-free lifestyle over corporate profits or material possessions. To avoid the negative effects of Westernization or of becoming over-run by cheap tourists trampling through the country, the government of Bhutan strictly regulates the travel industry. Visitors to Bhutan must fly into and out of the country on the national airline, Druk Air. They must be accompanied at all times by a government-liscensed guide. And they must spend a minimum of $200 per person per day while in Bhutan. The regulations effectively keep out all the weed-smoking hippies and thrill-seeking backpackers who would otherwise destroy the pristine, peaceful nature of Bhutan's culture.
As I rode from the airport to my hotel in Paro, my Bhutanese guide, Tenzin, spoke respectfuly of the wisdom of Bhutan's king and the positive effect that the tourism regulations have had on the experience of travelers to the country, as well as citizens of the country. Travelers who visit Bhutan have a high-quality experience, Tenzin told me, rather than an extended visit that would be of lower quality. Tenzin went on to tell me about the king's new concept that exemplifies the priorities of Bhutan's government. The king, he said, is less concerned with exports and income per capita and other figures that factor into a country's Gross National Product. Instead, the government focusses on keeping Bhutan unspoiled and it's citizens happy. Thus the new measure; Gross National Happiness.
After dropping my stuff off at the hotel and briefly reviewing my itinerary for my four days in Bhutan, Tenzin led me back to the minivan and our driver, Gudu, drove us to the first sight of the day. Drukgyel Dzong is a seventeenth century fortress that was constructed by the man who united modern-day Bhutan. The Dzong was gutted by a fire in the 1960's, but the ruins are still a spectacular place to visit. Tenzin led me through the entrance of the deteriorating stone structure, then led me further up to the top of a wall that formed the east side of the dzong. I stood inches away from a fifty foot drop to the trail below and snapped pictures of the ruins and of the surrounding scenery.
While heading back to the van I couldn't help but notice how quiet and peaceful the countryside was. Cypress trees, blue pine trees, rose hives, and wild herbs surrounded me as I walked along the narrow dirt trail, and the combination of natural scents fills the entire Paro Valley. Tenzin pointed out another wild plant that I'm not used to seeing everyday: marijuana. Marijuana plants grow naturally in Bhutan and are as common as sagebrush in Utah. I picked a few leaves of one of the plants and observed the seven-leaf pattern growing off of each stem. I'm used to seeing the plant glorified on t-shirts and posters back in the United States. It was surprising to see it today as just another part of nature, as it exists in Bhutan.

Our next stop was Kyichu Lakhang, a seventh century Buddhist temple. Legend has it that one leader of ancient Bhutan built 108 temples in one day. Kyichu Lakhang is one of those temples. I wandered past Buddhist prayer wheels in the courtyard of the building. Tenzin searched for an older monk who is the caretaker of the place and when he found him we headed inside for a look at the interior. It was impossible not to notice the influence of the Indian and Tibetan cultures on Bhutan's own culture. The prayer wheels outside were definitely Tibetan, but inside, many of the Buddha figures resembled Hindu deities. One gold-painted figure had one-thousand arms, one-thousand eyes, and eleven heads. Tenzin pointed out a spot on the long, dark wooden boards that made up the floor of the temple. A pair of footprints had been worn about an inch into the hardwood, directly in front of the main shrine in the room. Tenzin told me that they were from a monk who, hundreds of years ago, came to Kyichu Lhakhang to bow thousands of times per day in front of the Buddha image inside. I felt the footprints with my bare feet, fitting my own foot inside one of them. The monk who visited hundreds of years ago apparently had much smaller feet than mine. After a lunch of beef stir-fry, potatoes with ginger, mixed vegetables, and lots of steamed rice, Tenzin and I headed to the National Museum. A large stone cylindrical building overlooking the valley houses the museum, and Tenzin told me that centuries ago the building was used as a watchtower. I walked through the dimly lit circular hallways and passed by huge metal urns, ancient armor and weapons, eighteenth century Buddhist artwork, and stuffed wildlife indiginous to Bhutan. The museum was a nice overview of the Bhutanese history and culture, but one thing didn't quite fit in. On the top level of the museum is a collection of hundreds of postage stamps issued by the Bhutanese government. I can understand why they'd print images commemorating Bhutanese olympians and Bhutanese artwork, but for some reason they also issued stamps depicting George Washington, FDR, and the American space program.

The last visit of the day was to Paro Dzong, a massive, seventeenth century fortress built in the typical style of Bhutanese architecture. Tenzin and I walked through the dark hallway leading into the courtyard of the dzong, passing by colorful depictions of Buddhist men with intimidating facial expressions. Whitewashed walls tower above the stone walkways inside, and intricate painted patterns cover the woodwork of the building. The dzong is currently used as a monestary, and young monks in bright saffron robes quietly passed by me as I took a few photos. Back home a place like Paro Dzong would seem so exotic and different, but somehow, after flying half-way around the world to vist, it fits right in as just another element of the local lifestyle.