Reaching Buli
The final two weeks of my Oct. - Dec. field trip were in Zhemgang, a district in the central southern part of Bhutan. Though I'd visited Trashigang and Trashiyangtse in the east previously, I had never visited Zhemgang before. It's got the steepest, most rugged terrain I've ever seen, and consequently, the fewest roads and probably least infrastructure of any Dzongkhag. After leaving the road at Buli, I left my computer in the car for the duration of the trek. I've had a hard time writing about that part of the trip, because it was grueling and exhausting, both physically and emotionally, and didn't seem to yield that much useful data. After completing the trek, I fled to Kathmandu for some much needed R&R. This post is the last thing I wrote on my laptop before disappearing into the jungle...
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What a surprise to find myself in the fanciest house yet, on a wide open plain at the end of a long, long gravel road, two and a half hours into the deep forest. This place reminds me of villages in the Khumbu, where houses are grouped together, with stone walls dividing individual property and narrow lanes winding between the stone walls. In contrast to the rest of the country, where one house stands in the middle of its fields, and houses are quite scattered on the landscape, here houses are grouped together, giving the feeling of a town. This place is also more recognizably a town because the wide plateau allows enough space for grouping houses together.
The Dzongkhag officials were insistent that I have a lady to accompany me, but had a hard time of thinking of who the right person was. I said that I was flexible and could easily travel with a gent as well, but they were adamant. Although the Geog Accountant whom they assigned to work with me may speak the local Khengkha well, I’m not so sure about her English and she’s very shy and ladylike. Accounting takes a certain type of person – usually reserved and methodical, quite different from the type of personality generally associated with interview research. Fieldwork takes a certain kind of lady that is a bit rare in rural Bhutan. The lady has got to be a bit unconcerned with being ladylike, and has got to ignore the cultural norms that tell her that ladies – especially office ladies – can’t walk far and can’t be out wandering around. These norms are hard to buck, and Prem in Trashigang seemed to be a bit unusual in preferring pants and not minding to walk around the hills.
After meeting her at the Gup Office, Sangay, the Administrative or ADM Officer, took us to a house that I thought was an official building or a lhakhang, because it is so grand. It’s a huge two story stone building, with all the traditional trappings of painting around the top, sitting on a large concrete slab. We went around back and climbed a steep concrete staircase to a wooden porch that led inside to an entry way with several rooms hidden behind Tibetan curtains off of it. After removing our shoes we went behind the curtain directly ahead of us, into a high ceiled room, ornately painted with the Buddhist auspicious signs, with more sofas than I’ve seen in my entire trip lining the walls of the huge room. In the center of the room, a large number of plain lama tables were clustered together to make a large eating table, in the middle of which were several flower pots holding fake flowers. The windows were relatively large, and set high on the walls, covered with iron grill work outlining Buddhist lucky signs. Away from the windows, several large cabinets held a large array of dining ware. This is a room that sets out to impress, and succeeds. It is by far the grandest room I’ve been in during my travels, including the Dzongkhag guest house in Zhemgang. I was shocked that this house had been built in such a remote area, considering that everything would have to come by road three hours from Zhemgang, which is itself several hours from anywhere else. But the house was built even before the road was completed, so things must have been carried by horses. It’s like reaching an oasis in the midst of a desert. In one of the two bathrooms of the house, a washing machine ran while we ate lunch.
We were offered tea and zow, and after completing these refreshments, were led into another room for lunch. I was shocked to see an actual Western style dining table and chairs, again the first I’ve seen in all my travels. We ate a lunch of red rice, green bean and fried egg served from a lazy susan.
Behind the grand house, is Sangay’s cottage, also owned by the Gup – a small concrete building with several rooms and an indoor bathroom. Unlike Prem’s flat, this one is fully furnished, with two comfortable couches, two bedrooms with beds and wall decorations and dressers. Though I was to stay in a downstairs room of the Gup’s house, Sangay has offered me her guest room, which is surely more comfortable. This is going to be a hard place to leave for the village houses.
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The cottage may be charming and furnished, but it is also occupied by rats! They hang out under the guest bed, scurrying behind the furniture and in and out the windows that don’t close completely. After tossing and turning to the sounds of scratching, I aimed my headlamp at one source of sound, and saw a long scaly tail disappearing out the window. Every time I was about to fall asleep, scurrying and squeaking beneath the bed would jolt me into wakefulness. By 3am, the fear of a rat walking across my face or biting my ear got the better of me, and I moved my sleeping arrangements to the concrete floor of the living room, where I felt sure there was nothing for rats to gnaw on. But just as I was falling asleep, I heard squealing from the kitchen…
In the morning, Sangay found me in my sleeping bag on the floor and asked what happened. I played the Lady card. “There were animals in the room, and I got scared.” “What kind of animals?” “I don’t know, that’s why I was scared.” “Oh, probably rats,” she said nonchalantly. I was amazed by the calmness with which she admitted that rats were living under the guest bed in her house. She said that sometimes she sleeps with the light on so that the rats won’t come.
**********
What a surprise to find myself in the fanciest house yet, on a wide open plain at the end of a long, long gravel road, two and a half hours into the deep forest. This place reminds me of villages in the Khumbu, where houses are grouped together, with stone walls dividing individual property and narrow lanes winding between the stone walls. In contrast to the rest of the country, where one house stands in the middle of its fields, and houses are quite scattered on the landscape, here houses are grouped together, giving the feeling of a town. This place is also more recognizably a town because the wide plateau allows enough space for grouping houses together.
The Dzongkhag officials were insistent that I have a lady to accompany me, but had a hard time of thinking of who the right person was. I said that I was flexible and could easily travel with a gent as well, but they were adamant. Although the Geog Accountant whom they assigned to work with me may speak the local Khengkha well, I’m not so sure about her English and she’s very shy and ladylike. Accounting takes a certain type of person – usually reserved and methodical, quite different from the type of personality generally associated with interview research. Fieldwork takes a certain kind of lady that is a bit rare in rural Bhutan. The lady has got to be a bit unconcerned with being ladylike, and has got to ignore the cultural norms that tell her that ladies – especially office ladies – can’t walk far and can’t be out wandering around. These norms are hard to buck, and Prem in Trashigang seemed to be a bit unusual in preferring pants and not minding to walk around the hills.
After meeting her at the Gup Office, Sangay, the Administrative or ADM Officer, took us to a house that I thought was an official building or a lhakhang, because it is so grand. It’s a huge two story stone building, with all the traditional trappings of painting around the top, sitting on a large concrete slab. We went around back and climbed a steep concrete staircase to a wooden porch that led inside to an entry way with several rooms hidden behind Tibetan curtains off of it. After removing our shoes we went behind the curtain directly ahead of us, into a high ceiled room, ornately painted with the Buddhist auspicious signs, with more sofas than I’ve seen in my entire trip lining the walls of the huge room. In the center of the room, a large number of plain lama tables were clustered together to make a large eating table, in the middle of which were several flower pots holding fake flowers. The windows were relatively large, and set high on the walls, covered with iron grill work outlining Buddhist lucky signs. Away from the windows, several large cabinets held a large array of dining ware. This is a room that sets out to impress, and succeeds. It is by far the grandest room I’ve been in during my travels, including the Dzongkhag guest house in Zhemgang. I was shocked that this house had been built in such a remote area, considering that everything would have to come by road three hours from Zhemgang, which is itself several hours from anywhere else. But the house was built even before the road was completed, so things must have been carried by horses. It’s like reaching an oasis in the midst of a desert. In one of the two bathrooms of the house, a washing machine ran while we ate lunch.
We were offered tea and zow, and after completing these refreshments, were led into another room for lunch. I was shocked to see an actual Western style dining table and chairs, again the first I’ve seen in all my travels. We ate a lunch of red rice, green bean and fried egg served from a lazy susan.
Behind the grand house, is Sangay’s cottage, also owned by the Gup – a small concrete building with several rooms and an indoor bathroom. Unlike Prem’s flat, this one is fully furnished, with two comfortable couches, two bedrooms with beds and wall decorations and dressers. Though I was to stay in a downstairs room of the Gup’s house, Sangay has offered me her guest room, which is surely more comfortable. This is going to be a hard place to leave for the village houses.
***********
The cottage may be charming and furnished, but it is also occupied by rats! They hang out under the guest bed, scurrying behind the furniture and in and out the windows that don’t close completely. After tossing and turning to the sounds of scratching, I aimed my headlamp at one source of sound, and saw a long scaly tail disappearing out the window. Every time I was about to fall asleep, scurrying and squeaking beneath the bed would jolt me into wakefulness. By 3am, the fear of a rat walking across my face or biting my ear got the better of me, and I moved my sleeping arrangements to the concrete floor of the living room, where I felt sure there was nothing for rats to gnaw on. But just as I was falling asleep, I heard squealing from the kitchen…
In the morning, Sangay found me in my sleeping bag on the floor and asked what happened. I played the Lady card. “There were animals in the room, and I got scared.” “What kind of animals?” “I don’t know, that’s why I was scared.” “Oh, probably rats,” she said nonchalantly. I was amazed by the calmness with which she admitted that rats were living under the guest bed in her house. She said that sometimes she sleeps with the light on so that the rats won’t come.
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