Bhutan

Rediscovering the Last Shangri-la

By Stanley Sobari,

#Above all the attention Bhutan has been given, this happiest kingdom on Earth is most revered for its resilient spirit and authenticity 

ONE TRIP would be enough to show me the allure of Bhutan. Or so I thought.

Bhutan is anything but predictable. It began with the flight – instead of a building-dotted landscape, my pilot darted amongst mountains in deftly executed twists and turns to land on one of the world’s shortest landing strips. Rather than human traffic, cow and horses sauntered lazily across narrow roads. Instead of Gross Domestic Product (GDP), Bhutan favours instead the Gross National Happiness (GNH) index, which places heavy emphasis on spiritual well-being. Smiles are incessant; helping hands never short in supply. International hotelier names are nowhere in sight; neither is Starbucks or McDonald’s. Yet, the Tourism Council of Bhutan recorded a jump in tourist arrivals-from 42,990 in 2002, to 166,264 in 2011. It’s easy to see why. Trip needs are rolled into one with Bhutan’s tariff – ‘package’ rates of US$230 and up per night (dependent on season), which secures everything from accommodation, transport, guide to meals all round.

But like the ongoing mystery behind Mona Lisa’s missing eyebrows in Leonardo da Vinci’s famous portrait, my second trip to Bhutan unearthed deeper layers of this landlocked, Himalayan kingdom, while also amassing a surprisingly long list of ‘first’ in my travel list.

# A propeller plane landing at the bumthang domestic airport

Festival Flurry

After my maiden flight on Drukair, Bhutan’s national carrier, from Singaore to Paro last year, I found myself looking forward to another rollercoaster ride through the clouds. A fellow passenger recounted once hearing the captain announce, “if you think we are flying too close to the mountains, do not be alarmed. This is our normal procedure”. But that’s not all. My domestic flight into bumthang would take just 35 minutes – on a propeller aircraft. Watching the propellers push the plane into the air is exhilarating, completely safe, and frankly, addictive. We landed with a light push onto the tarmac, then filed into the solitarity one-leveled airport – another first.

Bhutan celebrates a festival nearly every month, when the country’s 20 dzongkhas (districts) take turns celebrating Guru Rimpoche’s birthday, the saint who introduced Buddhism to Bhutan, also regarded as Buddha incarnate. This year, the month of June was allocated to Bumthang in central Bhutan, also considered the heartland of Buddhism, our first festival was at Nimalung Monastery. Bhutanese’ faith is stunning – I was amazed to find locals pouring out from thick forested areas and onto the main road, whole families who had walked hours from home, mothers carrying their lunches in huge baskets behind their backs, and kids propped on their arms.

Arriving to deep, resounding drums and a flurry of excitement, the festival is split intor htre parts – blessing the land, subduing of evils, and the drum dance of victory. Every move precise and rehearsed, dancers strut in dramatic costumes and masks, colorful swirls of music, dance and camaraderie drawing the festival-goers into one. If you are early, you might just chance upon young monks hard at practice prior to the festival, dancing earnestly as their elder looks on, with some laughs along the way.

The city’s biggest religious ceremony of the year however, required me to rush out of the hotel by 6.30am, so I could get at good spot at Kurjey Lhakhang – a temple built around a cave which Guru Rimpoche was believed to have mediated and left an impression of his palm at. Temple grounds quiet under the still rising sun, closer inspection saw monks of various saffron hued robes dashing around, ladies in gorgeous kiras huddled in light chatter, drums in alignment and microphones set up for Kurjey Tshechu (festival). More people arrived, and in a minutes a commotion ensued – the three-tiered birthday cake to celebrate Guru rimpoche’s birthday had arrived. No time to lose, a symphony began and my attention shot upwards – over 20 monks and men had climbed to the temple’s roof, and in one unified movement unfurled the gigantic Thongdrel – the rare tapestry revealed only one a year, depicting the seated Guru and his eight manifestations. Amids alternate sessions of song and chants headed by central Bhutan’s head lama and entourage, I found two ladies gazing at the scene in awe, Singaporeans who were here for 10 days. “We would stay a month if we could, this might be a bit commercialized but it’s still on my bucket list because hey, this is the last Shangri-la!”