Land of the Thunder Dragon - Part 3

Our next journey was through the hills via the Dochula Pass, a high point that allows a 360° view of the Himalayas on a clear day.  Here there are 108 chortens (or stupas, whichever)  memorializing the defeat of  Assamese rebels who had set up camp in the jungles of south Bhutan, from where they would launch raids into India.  The Indians at the time offered to send troops to flush them out, but the king (number 4; the present king's dad) declined this help as it was his backyard and his problem to solve.  He went down there in person to negotiate with the rebels, and gave them 48 hours to bugger off.  When they declined to acquiesce, the king personally led his army down there to clear out the 30 camps, which they did with remarkably few casualties.  The 108 chortens are a memorial to both the Bhutanese casualties of the engagement and the success of the king.

The roads out of the cities are in the process of being widened, such that two vehicles can comfortably pass each other.  As many of the roads are tarmacked mountain tracks, that means the the expansion must come by either smashing into the mountainside, or by somehow raising the road from the cliff-side.  Neither appeal as a day job, and the locals would seem to concur, as the work is being done by imported Indian labour.  These last go to work on the road by day and live in makeshift housing by the roadside by night.

We did see one of the local monkeys on the way over the mountains.   These normally announce themselves by throwing rocks at the passing cars.

These next couple of nights we stayed in Wangdue Phodrang, notable for its formally impressive dzong, which looked down from the mountaintop. I say 'formally' as it burned down due to an electrical fault in 2012.  I'm guessing these accidents are a bi-weekly occurrence around here, if the wiring in our hotels was anything to go by.

Up the road is Punakha -formally the capital of Bhutan- which is home of the Punakha Dzong, arguably the most impressive building in Bhutan. The dzong lives on the confluence of the Mo Chhu and Pho Chhu - the Mother River and Father River, respectively.

Bhutan is famed for its large religious festivals, dotted throughout the year.  The festivals' purposes are multi-faceted, being both a auspicious religious event one attends to gain merit, and an educational tool - recording cultural history via the media of song and dance for a population who were (historically) mostly illiterate.  Each of the major areas of the country has festivals specific to the region, but Demoche is an annual festival particular to the Punahka Dzong. It lasts for three days and pulls in crowds from all over the province.  The major theme is a depiction of the war between the kingdoms of Bhutan and Tibet in the 17th century, during which the Tibetans were given a conspicuous hiding, if I know my dance interpretation.  Here's some edited highlights:

At first glance it appears the atsaras (clowns with sinister smiling face masks) are just there to hassle people for money.  Which they do. Enthusiastically.  But they're also there to help the old and inform find somewhere to sit, control the crowd, and explain just what the blue fuck this particular dance means.  Sometimes it's a bit too abstract for the locals too. The money they glean is used for some manner of community good deed (minus a small amount for themselves).  And if you're lucky you'll get a blessing from their wooden phallus.  You'll be amazed how fast your wallet opens when you're being menaced by a grinning demon armed with a massive wooden dick.

I found this anecdote when I was googling to refresh my memory:

Sandwiched between two large tourists at the Trashichhodzong courtyard in Thimphu, the familiar atsara face with a permanent grin brandishes a wooden phallus, rests it on the head of a young girl and says: "May you be blessed with nine boys."


"Nine is too few," reacts an elderly observer. "Then let it be 11 so that you can have a football team." The crowd bursts into laughter as the man in the mask leaves to help a hunchback find a place to sit.

Don't move; they can only sense movement.

Not too far away is the Khamsum Yulley Namgyal Chorten.  You get there after a steep cimb up the hill, overlooking the local rice fields.

The gold thing on the hill

Built for the fifth king by his mother over the course of nine years, it houses a truly fantastic three-story display of carved demons and guardian deities.  That was another thing that you're not allowed to take pictures of, so here's the outside.

 You can climb onto the roof and get a decent look at the valley.

The following day, we made the trek through Sopsokha village, up the hillside to the Chimi Lhakhang monastery.  The monastery is built next to a chorten built by the force of nature that was Drukpa Kunley. I mentioned him last time. He is the reason the walk through the village on the way to the monastery feels like a stroll through the amateur annotations in my school's biology textbooks (and a couple of the bibles):

Hmm. Teeth.

Drukpa Kunley was a hardcore radical anti-institutional 15th century cleric who hated the establishment, challenged all manner of authority, and unflinchingly forced the people of the land to question everything they knew about Buddhism, the monastic system, Enlightenment, the priesthood, religion, nature, and the government.  Known as “The Divine Madman,” Kunley went out of his way to outrage Bhutanese society in apparently every way he could imagine.  He was a notorious drunk and skirt-chaser, who would routinely attempt to sleep with the wife and/or daughters of his hosts, while rampaging around the country demonstrating to the populace that one didn't need to be a celibate to be enlightened.

I’m somewhat out of my depth trying to explain the nuances of Buddhist religious philosophy, but I am under the impression that his entire life was basically satire aimed at “pointing out the fallacies of conventional reality”.  Basically, he was saying to let go of your pretention, stop pretending you’re someone you aren’t, and just give in to your basic human nature without being embarrassed or inhibited, because spiritual happiness only comes when you let go of earthly conventions.  Or something.

When he wasn't being an abject rogue, it appears that he was an incredible thinker, speaker, and debater, with an iron-clad grasp on the teaching of Tibetan Buddhism, who would ruin any challengers from the establishment clergy through open debate - normally by pointing out the hypocrisy of those preaching piety, chastity and poverty, who were secretly fornicating and hoarding cash.

I will quote wiki here:

Because of this power to awaken unenlightened beings, Kunley's penis is referred to as the "Thunderbolt of Flaming Wisdom" and he himself is known as the "fertility saint".

So for this reason Sopsokha village is just covered in penises.  Frankly, there have been far worse things done in the name of religion, but few odder.  He is also credited with subduing numerous demons. often using his (apparently formidable) "Thunderbolt of Flaming Wisdom" as some manner of bludgeon.

Kunley and a demon.  I guess he hasn't got it out yet.

I even managed to find a scholarly article on the subject:

What.The.Fuck

I will say here that Bhutanese history walks a very blurry line between facts and fantasy, mentioning kings who lived here in the same breath as the demons who were subdued there.  It makes for interesting commentary at least.

The temple and monastery at the top are traditionally a place where childless couples come in the hope of conceiving.  The hopeful couple are traditionally blessed by a bow and arrow (which Kunley carried) and a large penis, in utter solemnity. There is a photo album of pictures sent from all the international visitors who've managed to have kids after their blessing.

Chorten where the Divine Madman subdued a demon.  I think it was specifically a dog demon. 

We also saw the young monks playing cricket outside, which is probably a product of Indian  influence. You occasionally forget they're all just kids.

The walk back made for some pretty photos. This whole area is essentially sub-tropical and so can get through two rice harvests in a year, while also producing vast amounts of oranges and bananas. In between rice harvests, the same fields are used to grow chillies.  Of course they are.

Since we were in the area, we popped up to see the nuns at the Sangchhen Dorji Lhuendrup nunnery. We we apparently very lucky in that we happened to visit during a recitation they do only once or twice a year, complete with odd-sounding foreign instruments. A few of them were openly fascinated by Chantelle's green hair.

Also, their temple has large judging eyes painted on it. It knows what you're up to and is tired of your shit.

"I'm so disappointed in you"

Less attractive is Khuruthang a new town across the river from our hotel- into which all the inhabitants of Punakha old town were relocated.  It's a touch on the grim side in that it's got relatively modern housing, but little character. It's like Bhutan's Stevenage.  One urchin did run up to me and say: "Good Morning, Sir!", which was pleasant.

Note the prayer wheel in the playground.

Since the local dzong is burned down, the King's Birthday celebrations were going on at the local army barracks.  The local schools had their kids of all ages put on dances, ranging from the traditional(by the older students, who were very polished) to a contemporary pom-pom number (by a year 4 group, who were a glorious but enthusiastic mess).  We wandered about the place, being occasionally accosted by kids keen to try out their English (they're taught English from pre-school here).  They'd chat along bolshily enough until they ran out of vocabulary.  One sympathises. Several kids did a drive-by "Hello!" and ran off, giggling.  They were fascinated by my watch, which I admit has been a universal conversation starter.

Obviously the cool kids were hiding behind the bus. 

They are legion.

The wife of a local dignitary (who I think we managed to ascertain was the provincial deputy governor) shanghaied us and made us sit next to them in under one of the VIP canopies.  She pointed out her daughter/granddaughter/niece/not sure in the year 4 shambles.  She enthused continually about how happy they and the whole country are.  We have no reason to doubt it, but she would have fewer reasons to complain than most, by the look of things.  We had to fend off offers of food and hospitality as we were on a schedule.  Probably dodged a bullet: I imagine their chilli-laced chilli with chilli diet is lethal to mere mortals.