Flexible plans

Farmer Chado prepares water offering at his altar

25^th April

It is Zhabdrung Kuchoe, a most auspicious day, the birth/death anniversary of the Zhabdrung and therefore highly important;  I wake and get up to make the outside journey to the toilet and the farmer asks if he can disturb me by coming to make water offering, as I am sleeping in the altar room; of course, I am more than happy for him to do this important task in a timely manner.  I do, however, ask if he would mind holding off on incence until I am more awake.

Produce from the mushroom farm

He opens the shutters: there is no glass, just wooden shutters, so I don my down jacket to sit in bed and drink coffee from my thermos flask. The purchase of this item, for the princely sum of $10 when I arrived in Bhutan in early March has proved most useful.

The mushroom farm

I then organized my bags a little and wandered out to seek breakfast;  Sonam asks about arrangements for the coming night; the question is a little difficult, there is not enough to do around Gasa to keep us here another 24 hours but there has been insufficient network to contact Phub to see if I can stay with her that night rather than the night planned.

I asked if we could be flexible and let the farmer know around midday.  The response was affirmative, but Sonam would need to settle up with him before we left for our morning activities - of course!

Before we departed to visit the dzong, Chado took me to see his mushroom farm.  He explains the process of soaking the logs and then stacking them to allow air flow and keeping them moist – but also protecting from the harsh elements of Gasa.  It is a good little business and he has sold 50kg so far, in addition to what he uses for family and guest consumption.  The mushrooms are a good meaty variety, some are shitake (or very similar) and the others I am not familiar with.  We had some the previous day as shamu datsi, the Bhutanese mushroom, chilli, cheese dish which is my favourite, and for breakfast.

Gasa Dzong

While inspecting the mushroom farm I had missed a call from Phub – Murphy strikes again! I returned the call and eventually we connected.  She had no plans for the day and I would come to her place after lunch and spend the night.

Chado had also pointed out his asparagus field and since there seemed a reasonable quantity growing, I asked if I might buy a bunch to take to Phub.  He was agreeable to this and was quite clear as to the price, for which I was grateful.

Gasa hot springs

I made an attempt to use the ATM in Gasa but “no light” (ie, lack of power) made that impossible.

We visited the Dzong and I admired the wonderful decorations for the auspicious occasion.  There were many people there and I later found out that some Dzongs across the country were so busy and had such long queues for people to enter that some just turned back.

There was a ritual in progress; we obvserved for a while, then Sonam suggested we go.  I asked to stay a little longer -  I love watching and listening at these events.  There is a real magic to them even though I cannot understand.

Scenery near Gasa Hot Springs

I gave an offering to a passing monk, as entering the main space to make an offering was going to be too obtrusive. 

We went to look at the temple of the local protector deity in the Utse (central tower) but I could only observe from outside as this inner sanctum is forbidden to women.

Then we were off to the hot springs.  Lonely planet is not very complimentary about this and I was in 2 minds; there was a  private option but at 500Nu, with uncertain access to ATMs, I did not really want to spend that, and the private option was only at one temperature – the public baths were a series of baths at difference temperatures, each reputed to do wonders for different physical complaints ranging from joint aches and pains to dislocations and fractures and heavy metal poisoning, pronounced the sign on one bath; at least with the different temperatures, I could find one that was comfortable.

Village between Gasa and Goen Shari

I decided I would join the public, and my crew got undressed and headed off, I gingerly changed in the ladies toilet a not terribly pleasant location.

I put my bag and clothes at a place I was told it would be safe (on top of a wall in the middle of the complex – I love that so many places in Bhutan private possessions can be left safely in public places) and headed for the nearest bath.

Epiphytic Rhododendron

As I was getting in there was a conversation about the number of bandaids on my feet; I clarified that I didn’t’t need to remove them before entering the bath, the people were just expressing concern.  I explained they were there to prevent blisters from my walking boots.

The bath I entered was warm, but not overly warm and the people in the adjacent bath invited me to come and join them, as that one was better, so I did.  An elderly gent and lady engaged me in conversation; fortunately a younger lady, an English teacher at the local central school could translate for me.

Normal rhododendron

I’d had the sense, and had been told, that I should cover up in the shared baths – maybe three quarter pants and a t-shirt. I settled for the clothes I had worn to hike the day before, rinsing the mud off under the “shower” (aka, thigh high tap) before entering the bath.  While all the women had their thighs well and truly covered, some younger women were wearing swim suit type tops or other tops with shoestring straps and some older women were topless.  

I was reminded a little of my experience at Yap a few years earlier where the dive centre boatman had told me, when I was clad in a swim suit after my dive, that should I visit his village I should be covered from my waist to my knees, but I could go topless if I liked.  Mentally smiling, I advised that I would not feel comfortable doing that, but would certainly cover my legs as required.

Just one of the many waterfalls
in the Mo Chhu valley

After a while, feeling a little hot, I sat up and out of the water, and feeling a little dizzy from it decided that I should not stay too much longer.  I asked about a good place to change and was told behind the wall where the taps for “showers” are – there is much public changing – with some discretion, so I participated in the activity. 

I saw Sonam pass and told him I was dressing, at which point he went for another bath before changing and once I was ready I waited for them to finish.

Lunch was snack – as agreed, as there was little else available. I aquiested to Maggi or Koko and was told Koko is better. 

As we travelled further south, the sky cleared and I could enjoy the beautiful forest in the Mo Chhu valley.  Travelling with the windows open, I could hear birdsong as well as seeing what I finally decided were epiphytic rhododendrons.  My good friend, Mr Google, later confirmed that I was not imagining or mis-identifying these plants.

just a lovely view of the Mo Chhu

I arrived at Phub’s at 3pm.  My attempts to text my progress and her inquiry about my progress were hindered by lack of network connectivity and our messages came through about 4:30pm, much to our mutual amusement.

I asked Phub if I could rinse out the clothes I had worn in the hot spring bath and she put them through her washing machine – a new acquisition she’d requested of her husband as full time teaching and caring for 2 young children was so much work that hand washing everything was too much.  What a luxury – my clothes had not seen a washing machine since late February!

and another

We sat drinking coffee and chatting; Phub’s young son Zimba was very excited by my presence.  We walked to visit a friend and sister in law who lives above the school.  Her son is only 4 and she does not have a babysitter so he attends class PP as an extra child.

The principal was standing outside his house so Phub took me to meet him and to ask if I may come to the school in the morning.  He response was enthusiastically welcoming.

Phub prepared a lovely dinner of rice, asparagus datsi (prepared with less chilli) and fried local cheese from Trashiyangtse.  Over dinner we had a conversation about the Bhutanese custom of offering of “more rice” while the bowl is still half full and Phub explained the custom of “second serve” not being offered once the bowl is empty.  It may be custom but I always feel I don’t quite know whether I can eat more or not when I have only eaten half of what is on my plate, and I am loathe to take food which might consequently be wasted.

Phub's young sons and her mother

We spent some time after dinner looking through my laptop for resources that might be useful for her; she cannot downloaded from the internet here because of lack of network connectivity there, so a lot was transferred for her, including web pages I had printed to file for reference later when I was preparing my lessons at Lobesa.

I retired for the night on a bed made up in living room, ready to attend school the following morning with her.