Bhutan - don't tease the animals

On the day that the monks migrated, we had a light day in Thimpu. Because "we're ladies" we went to the nunnery above the capital city. I had mentioned several times the temptation to run away to a Buddhist nunnery and I was pleased by what I saw: the nuns were surrounded by the smell of lemongrass as they chanted and played hand drums and a cat made itself comfortable in the sunniest nun lap. In Flushing, I always see nuns in Starbucks so I think that all of these things combine for a peaceful existence. I'll just have to work on my ability (or lack thereof) to sit still.

Then we moseyed on to an art 'emporium.' There we learned that the artists are divided into category according to skill. The younger/less talented artist draw the pieces, the more experienced artists fill in the backgrounds and the masters paint the faces and gold details. Each of the paints are made from Himalayan rocks and the canvas is cotton treated with animal fat. That combined with five barefooted young men all in one room made for a pretty stinky studio. Papa Lee bought some art but I resisted because I still haven't hung up any of my paintings from Nicaragua.

Our next stop was an art school. The country of Bhutan has 13 arts: metal-working, silver-smithing, gold-smithing, painting, basketry, weaving, woodworking, sewing, drawing, sculpture, dancing, singing, and I can't remember the last one. (Man! I was so close!) The school was closed for the King's birthday but one lone student approached us trying to sell some of his painting. We obliged but his works seemed a bit blurry so we took an active role in teaching him how to be used to disappointment and rejection.

Our final stop before lunch was to pay a visit to the national animal of Bhutan: the mighty takin, The takin was described to us an animal with the face of a goat and the butt of a cow. Wikipedia describes it as "a bee-stung moose." According to legend, it was created by the Divine Madman (that same guy who painted phalluses all over the country). There were signs all over asking us not to tease the animals which of course tempted me to taunt them mercilessly. "You stupid takin! You're ugly! No one will ever love you!" Nara thought this was hilarious but Phuntsho was a little shocked. Just gives you a little glimpse into the respective Asian senses of humor...but then Nara's always down for a good insult as I'll explain later.

Yo momma so goatlike...

No matter. We then headed back into Thimpu proper to have lunch with Phuntsho's wife Kunzang (our friend from grad school) and her brother who was visiting from Colorado. That afternoon, we went to a food festival where each of the 20 districts had a booth where they prepared and sold their specialties. At lunch, there was some discussion on whether these foods would be prepared according to stringent Western hygienic practices. Nara and I decided to risk it. and somehow fell into choosing the food that the other had to eat.  I made her eat an apple, walnut tart and she made me eat a thick buckwheat noodle covered in chili paste. And just because we hadn't eaten enough, we then met Kunzang and her family for a home-cooked dinner of ema datsi (chilies with cheese), buckwheat pancakes, red rice, spinach, lentils and well-filled glasses of wine.

Ema datsi is considered Bhutan's national dish and we ate a lot of it. Check out this video of a woman in traditional dress cooking. Please ignore her terrifying fingernails.

My notes from the evening are a mixture of the suitably esoteric:

• in the land reform of Bhutan the maximum land holding is set at 25 acres
• concept of 'government' versus 'state' especially regarding environmental commissions that have authority to penalize
• Bhutan will be organic by 2020

 vocabulary:

• gang = mountain
• chu = river
• chobs = cheers
• gardinche(la) = thank you

and general observations:

• old people marathon
• the country smells of betel nut

To clarify "old people marathon" because I'm sure that's the topic you have most interest in - when we left the hotel in the morning we spied a bunch of geriatrics running through town with numbered bibs. When I asked what was going on I was told that there was a marathon. Bhutan, however, does not hold with the standard distance for the marathon as this one was about 5K.