It’s monsoon season in the Himalayas. While this sounds dramatic, compared to fall in the Pacific Northwest, it’s practically heaven. About everyday at three o’clock there is what-seems-to-be a prescribed rainshower that runs down the valley. There are often rainbows, pockets of blue sky, and life down below in the valley carries on. Our center sits on a hill, and looks out over rice paddies, the town of Paro, and the Dhzong (the local government building and religious center).
Bhutan is lush and green this time of year. Many of you will also be pleased to know that marijuana grows absolutely rampant! Unfortunately for all of us, it is extremely illegal to even touch it. God really does give his hardest battles to his strongest soldiers.
I have been practicing my Dzhongkha, and conversing with locals with about a 23% success rate. Two days ago I said, Hello, how are you? to an elderly monk I passed on the street. He stopped walking, turned around to look at me and giggled. I was later informed that it is quite unusual to ask random people on the street how they are doing.
It reminded me of a conversation I had last summer with one of my neighbors
Hazel: “Good morning, how are you?”
Neighbor: I’m good, how are you?
Hazel: I’m good, how are you?
*extended pause*
Neighbor: Umm good, how are you?
Even without a significant language barrier, I still have trouble with social interactions from time to time. Back to Bhutan…
My study abroad cohort spent the last week in Thimpu, the capital city of Bhutan. It is significantly larger than Paro (still no traffic lights). We got all our visas and medical examinations sorted. This process included waiting in line for about thirty minutes, and the medical professional asking the first girl in line if she had ever had her blood pressure taken. When she replied that she had, the medical professional asked “if it was normal”. There were no further questions and we were all cleared. You are all currently reading the blog of someone with an official Bhutanese student visa, no biggie.
We had a wonderful and busy time. Some highlights include visiting the Royal Textile Museum, dinner with Dr. Karma Puntsho (author of ‘The History of Bhutan’), Momos, Druk 11000, and playing futsal with some local dudes. Yeah, we got crushed again. These people really know how to “sport”. I'll spare you the gory details of the final score. Our team name is the Double Dragons. If you don’t know what that is, I pray that you never have to find out. It’s quite fitting seeing how shitty we are.
Things are definitely ramping up around here. I love my classes and the professors are genuinely hilarious. Joking is a big part of Bhutanese culture. Classes are usually 40% content, 60% personal anecdotes. This is fine by me.
I’ve decided I’m gonna start a section of the blog where I make you guys feel better about yourselves. I call it Don’t worry, Hazel is way more embarrassing than you! It’s an advice column of sorts.
For starters, for any future Bhutan travelers, I do not recommend eating 10 beef fry momos, an order of chili fries, and a megaDruk 11000 for a late night snack. Unless of course you’d like to spend a section of your night pacing the hotel room waiting for your meal to doitsworst and getonout.
I don’t recommend American Girl by Estelle and Kanye West as a karaoke song. It’s too high for the average joe. Similarly, Super Bass by Nicki Minaj is a little much for a small karaoke bar.
And lastly, a big group of us went out in Paro town this past weekend. It was quite fun and very relaxed until the walk home. The bar we went to was on the far side of town, and we were airing on the side of being late for curfew. It was absolutely dumping rain, all of us in denim and t-shirts. We were walking/running up the muddy cow path when I promptly slipped into a thorn bush. I had no choice but to keep hoofing it up the path as I pulled thorns out of my fingertips. We made it back with three minutes to spare, out of breath and absolutely soaked to the bone. I made it to bed without a hitch. When I woke up in the morning I opened the front door to grab a coffee only to find that I had completely ditched my jeans on the doorstep. Very classy, as per usual.
More embarrassments to come!
All my love, Hazel