Bhutan – Day 2: Thimphu and the Way to Wangue Phodrang

I imagine I would have passed a pleasant night in Thimphu, as it was warm under the covers and cold above them, but I made some bad choices yesterday whose consequences caught up with me by around half past four in the morning. There is a dish in Bhutan called ema datshi, which is traditionally made of chilli peppers, onions, and a liquid form of yak cheese. It is delicious, but the unusual combination took my stomach completely by surprise, and I spent the rest of the day dealing with the consequences at various pit stops.

Our first destination of the day was the Buddha Dordenma Statue, a golden figure that thrones above Thimphu in the “Calling the Earth to Witness” pose. We reached it by having the tour bus carry us most of the way up and then walking along a scenic detour until finally approaching the gate. The monument is massive, having been built relatively recently, and that by a woman who now faces a jail sentence for embezzlement. She allegedly siphoned funds from the construction project to her bank account, which is perhaps the reason why the steps leading to the Buddha remain unfinished.

Inside the statue’s pedestal is a temple whose walls feature scenes from the Buddha’s life, and of course a dazzlingly numerous collection of golden Buddha statues. As we found out, the pillars are not made of wood but of plaster – a discovery enabled by the sighting of a piece that had previously been chipped off. Another collection of golden statues stands on the plaza surrounding the Buddha, but these are life-size and have the form of Apsaras, a class of Buddhist celestial beings.

From the Buddha Dordenna Statue, we continued by shuttle to the Motithang Takin Preserve, one of the most reliable places in Bhutan for spotting the country’s national animal. The king opened this site when it was found that migrating takins increasingly refused to leave Thimphu, subsisting on garbage and causing a public nuisance. Now they live in quite expansive cages, where they can be observed much like in a zoo. Besides takins, the preserve is also home to other hoofed animals like muntjacs.

During our rides, we have made many discoveries about Bhutanese culture, facilitated by our guide’s friendly banter with the local guide and driver. One thing they mentioned was the declining Bhutanese custom of “night hunting.” Not that long ago, it was common in some parts of Bhutan for a man to sneak or break into the house of a woman he fancied, pressing her to make love. Accounts differ regarding how voluntary a woman’s potential compliance was. As our guide pointed out, women often refrained from putting up a fight for fear of being blamed by their relatives of having invited the man over. Such an act would often (but not always) result in marriage, providing at least the consolation of not leaving the victim single and pregnant.

With the custom explained, our driver Situ related a personal story connected to “night hunting.” Once upon a time, he and his boss were visiting a remote part of Bhutan, staying in a room proffered by a family of their acquaintance. In the middle of the night, the boss felt someone cosying up to his leg. He let out a scream, terrifying the errant night-hunter, who flew out the window at lightning speed. Situ joked that his boss should have left the man to explore a little longer (and a little higher) before alerting him of his mistake.

Before leaving Thimphu, we made sure to visit the town centre, which is generally thought to be Clock Tower Square. As can be gleaned from the name, a tall Bhutanese-style clock tower stands at the very centre of this plaza, extensively decorated by dragons, clouds, and other traditional designs. Karma pointed out a number of people clad in orange who were cleaning the square and its surroundings. He explained that they were all young people fulfilling their public service, a nice alternative to compulsory military service still required by many countries.

Continuing north, we made our way past one of Thimphu’s most bizarre tourist attractions. The city is famous for being the only capital in the world without traffic lights. These were installed briefly in the 1980s, but were taken down after drivers complained that they had to wait for too long when the roads were empty. Instead, the city installed a booth for a traffic cop at the centre of the crossroads, training policemen to direct traffic with suave, ballet-like movements.

We left Thimphu after eating lunch, driving past Simtokha Dzong on our way south. Though we did not make a proper stop there, our guide explained that the dzong, built by Zhabdrung Rinpoche, is significant for being the first dzong built in Bhutan. It can be dated precisely to the year 1629, repelling an invading Tibetan army shortly after.

As we drove higher and higher, the weather began to worsen, finally turning into a thick mist as we reached our next destination, the Dochula Pass. 3,115 metres above sea level, the main sight at the Dochula Pass are the 108 Druk Wangyal Khang Zhang Chortens. They commemorate Bhutanese soldiers killed in battle against Assamese insurgents, which India had pressured the Bhutanese to crush. As our guide explained, the chortens (also called stupas) had the added function of atoning for the bloodshed caused by the conflict.

The most interesting part of this stop, however, was the part I could not capture on camera, as it unfolded inside the temple of Druk Wangyal Lhakhang. A celebration of Bhutanese history from past to present, its decorations feature not just the Bhutanese trinity of Padmasambhava, Buddha Shakyamuni, and Zhabdrung Rinpoche, but also pictures of a war plane, a satellite, and a monk with a laptop. To the left of the main altar is a smaller shrine dedicated to martial spirits. Off-bounds to women, it holds guns and helmets, and hard liquor makes up the bulk of offerings.

We finished the day by driving all the way down the winding road to Wangdue Phodrang, a district town less than 1,400 metres above sea level. The environment changed enormously. As we left from the pass, we passed by a herd of yaks – a creature emblematic of the mountains. The grass was drab and most of the trees were evergreens: either pines or hardy rhododendrons. As we descended, however, not only did it begin to rain profusely, but the vegetation turned a much more vibrant green, with palms and banana trees springing up by the roadside.