Talo Tsetchu

Sunday 25^th March

A fabulous rhododendron in flower

I had picked up, from my reading of the Druk Air in flight magazine Tashi Delek that the Talo Tsetchu was on and as this is a small tsetchu, I stated my preference for attending that one rather than the big Paro Tsetchu which attracts huge crowds and lots of tourists, and some people had suggested to me is more about a fashion show opportunity for the young adults.

Trish came down to join us and the taxi was ready to leave at 9.

We had a delightful journey up a narrow swichback road through terraced fields with some grain crop well established, then up into the Cyprus forest, which had some lovely rhododendron undergrowth. 

Then we hit a traffic jam!!  Way beyond my Bhutanese experiences outside of Thimphu!!

Tandin, Sir, handsome in his handwoven gho

I raised the topic of payment – which I had failed to negotiation prior – though this driver had given me an excellent price the previous weekend and amongst a variety of jokes, the previous weekend’s price was agreed upon, though I did need to clarify that later with the others.

There was a suggestion that we may need to walk and our taxi driver proceeded to reverse about half a km.  I expressed a preference for getting out sooner than later if we were to walk, as my cold was starting to suggest a respiratory infection which would be best with the least amount of strenuous uphill on foot – especially as I was wearing kira and high heels.

It turned out that he deposited us at a short cut – of course, there is always a shortcut in Bhutan, and soon my nicely polished shoes were covered with dust!

I knew we were getting close as a sea of blue tarpaulins came into view – the shelters of the merchants at the mela -  the makeshift market that accompanies any Tsetchu.

The setting for Talo Tsetchu

We found our way into the area of the monastery, ending up on the upper area above the dancers, who had already commenced.  There was not a lot of opportunity for settling ourselves into viewing spots as a couple of VIP pavilions were erected in the prime viewing areas.

I accosted a random male wearing a particularly intricately hand woven gho, telling him that he looked very handsome in his gho – as one only can do in Bhutan, and asking whether his wife had woven it, only to find that I had met him the previous week at the school rimdru dinner; he was Tandin Norbu from the department of roads and he promptly invited us to join him for lunch when the time came and he and Trish exchanged phone numbers.

The pavilion and buildings

We made our way down and found a decent viewing spot but not before I spotted a rather familiar face.  A bit uncertain of my identification, I hesitated but as he was returning eye contact I approached and yes, he was my driver from my 2013 visit – Younten.  I was pleased I had recognized him correctly, although I did not remember his name – nor he mine.  But it was nice to see him again. 

 

The colourful crowd in their best clothes

We spotted our Thimphu colleagues, Ann and Moraine, across the crowd – impressively dressed in tsetchu kira – intricately hand woven.  We subsequently found out these were loaned by Ann’s friend, her neighbour in Mongar when she was here for the year, with whom she was staying.

Ann had invited us the previous evening to join us in a hot stone bath, but I’d been more interested in taking myself and my cold to bed.  She told us it was a wonderful experience, with her friend’s husband’s staff (he is the chief of police) working all day to gather firewood, stones and prepare everything necessary for the hot stone bath.  I’m sure it was delightful and a completely different version of delightful to my last hot stone bath in very rustic, rural conditions with 3 male companions and the remains of a bottle of Dutch hootch.

An old friend: my 2013 driver - Younten

Ann invited us to join her and her friend in the VIP tent and I was glad to do this and sit down, albeit at the back where I needed to stand to look at the dancing.  However, I was most grateful for the seat.  It was also lovely to chat with Ann about her experience in the context of her previous year in the country.

In due course I enquired of Anne’s friend about toilets and was pleasantly surprised to find that there were some we could use.  I was duly escorted and left my bag in the care of our escort, which had been transferred to Ann as I came out of the rather odiferous facility.  Her friends had gone to the temple for their devotions.  Ann and Moraine headed back towards the upper area but I decided to also visit the temple. 

 I followed a stream of people through a first entrance and a courtyard, into the main entrance and up some stairs.  On the tiny landing at the top of the stairs a small group of women were preparing offerings, and performing their prostrations in front of the entrance to a small temple room.  A couple of males exited from that room and the monk came to the door to accept their offering and dispense holy water so I followed their example.  Just as well.  I subsequently found out that room was the temple space housing the statue of the Zhabdrung and reserved for men only.

Masked dancer

I looked at the other entrance from the landing and someone signaled that I could / should go in, so I did, and from there through another door to a room with walls decorated with hundreds of similar pictures of the Zhabdrung and then into another.  A young man suggested I should go with him and he would show and explain to me.  A he took me back through the room with the hundreds of pictures; I told him I knew it was the Zhabdrung who had unified his country.  Meanwhile my phone was repeatedly ringing – Trish was calling, but I really did not want to take the call in one of the sacred places (although one of the monks was…)

I was still trying to work out if he was one of the students from Lobesa LSS – we had already met several – or just a random young man who had decided to show me around.

He led me down and out of the central building back to the courtyard, and across and up some very steep and narrow steps, offering me his hand as he did so – my spare hand was busy holding my kira so I did not step on it and tumble, but the thought was kind.  At the top of the steps we encountered Ann’s friend who looked at me in surprise, asking me if noone had challenged my presence.  

The Deer

I affirmed than noone had, I was just following the young man who had offered to show me the places.  She said she thought they were off-limits to foreigners and that was why she had left Moraine and Ann behind.  Maybe that was why the monk in the temple we were about to enter looked a bit askance and did not offer me holy water, as had the monks in the previous 2 temples in the central tower.

My young guide explained that the lhakang was build by the Zhabdrung and that the small temple that we were now in was his meditation and sleeping place.  He continued his explanation of matters by pointing out the chorten outside the window and explaining that it marked the cremation spot of the Zhabdrung’s mother and was constructed by the Zhabdrung to house her ashes.

We parted with mutual introductions and my best wishes for his success in trying to get into hotel management without having qualified from high school – I presume year 12, but did not clarify, and I tried to call Trish.

The ladies dancing - more sedate but very colourful

I noticed a text message from Joan saying that Tandin was calling us to have lunch.  I responded with an inquiry as to their whereabouts.  With no response from either, I made my way back up to the upper level and found Ann and Moraine but no evidence of the others, then received a call from Trish.  She was down below, on the other side, under the magnificent cypress trees waving madly to attract my attention.  They had pretty well finished lunch, but I joined them and was offered picnic lunch:  rice and curry, of course.  I declined the meat but accepted rice, egg, cheese and chilli, followed by fresh papaya and accompanied by tea.  There was ara to follow, and it was a particularly pleasant one, though I was wary of having too much. 

There was a dance in progress and I remarked that I had not this particular dance before, nor the masks and costumes and was told that they were ghouls (reinterpreted from my first hearing of “girls”) who would direct the dead to either places of light or places of darkness, depending on the life of the person concerned.

More dancers

There was some discussion of the upcoming flower festival on 21^st April in the Botanical Park on Dochu La – when the rhododendron forests are at the peak of their flowering – and Tandin promised to take Trish.  I told her that if I was back in the area around this time, I might crash that date!

After lunch, and our offering of thanks to his wife, he took us to show us the view, and his village, which seemed to be about 200m horizontally and 1 km vertically below us, perched on the top of a much lower hill.  Unfortunately the view was hazy:  there are forest fires south of Wangdi and our hotel host, Kuzang, tells us that much of the haze is smoke haze from northern India – that I can also believe.  However, I can imagine that on a clear day, the row after row of high hills, fading into the distance in 3 directions, would be amazing.

A fabulous setting for a great day:  Talo Goema Tsetchu

After a brief chat with a local candidate for the upcoming elections we returned to the grassy area where there was another rather amazing dance in progress.  One of the Lobesa class 3 girls had attached herself to Trish and explained that the small object placed on a mat in the centre of the dancing represented a cremation ground, but that was the extent of the explanation of that dance.

We went up to the VIP tent to enjoy a brief sojurn on seats and Joan suggested we visit the Mela.  We were happy to watch Trish buy another kira, wonju and taego, offering colour suggestions in the meanwhile.

The school students ready to dance

I had messaged our driver to confirm a 3pm meeting to return and we headed down to the rendez-vouz, via the road rather than the short cut, for which I was somewhat grateful, though the distance was MUCH longer and I was slow, not feeling the greatest!

There was an offer to stop for any shopping we needed to do, and there were some items I had in mind for my lesson on advertising with class 7 for first period Monday but decided I did not have the energy.  My preference was back to my room for some serious rest.