It was in October last year when we had initially planned
our Bhutan trip. But then it got cancelled and later I comprehended the
significance of the proverbial reason that is just waiting to be found behind
every little incident in our life. Then the same topic resurfaced again in January
(with someone else) but I later cancelled it rather brutally as I wasn’t happy
with the whole situation. Again, it happened
for a reason. Then finally I called up S and told him that this time we were
going to make this trip happen no matter what and booked the tickets one week
prior to the trip and packed our bags the night before the flight. And guess
what. We were off to Bhutan. The trip did not go as smoothly as our previous
trips. There were numerous glitches, some of them being totally out of our
hands. For example, we couldn’t acquire the permit from the Bhutan Consulate
Office in Calcutta as the particular staff who issued the permits was on leave.
We were quite surprised and wondered how come an entire office depended on the presence
of one person only. We couldn’t fully grasp
the implication of the situation at that moment but later realised it after
getting to know the country and their customs better.
We started our journey on Saturday and since the immigration
office remained closed on the weekends we were forced to spend two nights in
Phuentsholing only. Phuentsholing is the border town of Bhutan with India where
one can enter without having to furnish visa or permit. But in order to proceed further one must get the permit.
Technically speaking, there is really nothing to see in
Phuentsholing. But ‘seeing’ is a phenomenon that often depends solely on whether
one has got the eyes for it. Phuentsholing has plenty little gems scattered all
over it only if you have the knack to find them. From the Buddhist temple in
the park to the taxi stand from where one can see the road has found its way up
towards the mountains, Phuentsholing is a very beautiful little town. On the other
side of the border is, however, hell. Jaigaon is one of the filthiest,
congested and most awful places I have ever seen in my life. The stark contrast
between two towns divided by a mere wall astonished me. This is probably
symbolic and holds true for the two nations as a whole. One is the embodiment
of tranquillity and peace; while the other has got nothing but a lot of chaos
and confusion within her that couldn’t be resolved even after 69 years of much
sought after independence.
The temperature of Phuentsholing seemed to be a little weird
during our short visit. During the daytime it was quite hot and the scorching
sun felt pretty harsh against our skin. However the air would start to cool
down quickly after the sunset and I actually had to wrap around a light jacket
to dinner. On our first night we made the mistake of having dinner at a fancy
restaurant. We ordered rice, chicken and Kewa Ema Datsy, the go to food of
Bhutan, made of Chilly, potato and Cheese. Food was so so. However the serene
ambience was ruined by an ugly Bengali group sitting next to us, conversing
very loudly.
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| Breakfast wasn't so bad though |
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| Can you spot the double standard and hypocrisy here? |
What we liked most about Phuentsholing was the little
restaurants cum bars in every nooks and corners of the town. In order to redeem
our sin of wasting money at the fancy restaurant last night we decided to try these
comparatively cheaper and dingier places that looked more like our Indian
version of country liquor dens. They are not like our typical restaurants where
the waiter would come to ask you whether you would like to have mineral water
or normal water. These restaurants have more of a homely feel where you can sit
in a plastic chair just outside the kitchen and the lady of the house would
serve you freshly cooked food along with 11000 Druk Beer; all of them being
100% genuinely Bhutanese. And these dens are a great place to meet and make friends with the locals. By the way, in Bhutan, the Druk Beer 11000 comes in
old Kingfisher beer bottles. Everywhere.
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| Lunch a la Bhutan |
Bhutanese people drink alcohol like the British drink tea.
Drinking is a socially accepted normal phenomenon there. Needless to say, we
followed their suit. We had alcohol with lunch, with evening snack, with
dinner. We drank in between meals or even before going to bed. When in Rome
etc. And honestly, when you get wine bottle at 100 bucks it is a sin to
disregard the welcome gesture every single liquor shop would make at your
direction from the very moment you entered the country of the Druk Gyalpo His
Majesty Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuck.
On Sunday we had nothing to do besides roaming aimlessly and
shopping. Rice is the staple food of Bhutan and we saw rice cookers of various
sizes were being sold in almost every shop. Also a kind of plastic basket is
apparently very popular among the women and children there. For the rest of the
week we saw those baskets everywhere. We went to the taxi stand to enquire
about the taxi rates to Thimphu for the next day. On our way back we stopped for
a while and sat at the bench near the giant Mani wheel at the crossroad. A monk
was having a sound sleep at the next bench. Flies were buzzing all over his
body. A little dog was peeking at us from the balcony overhead while its master
was busy hanging a washed bed sheet. I told S that I was having the same
feeling while watching trailer of a much waited movie. Phuentsholing was indeed
beautiful, but it was the beginning only.
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| If I were superman... Sans the red underwear of course |
Time flies very quickly when you are having fun and very
soon we spotted the sun over our head. When the heat became unbearable we decided
to visit one of those little restaurants to have a little afternoon sip. S took
beer as usual and I ordered gin and tonic for myself. There we met a young guy
named Ugyen who was having lunch at the next table. S and I were discussing our
possible itinerary and very soon Ugyen joined the conversation. He happened to
be one of those tour guides that foreigners (other than Indians and
Bangladeshis) must hire during their trip to Bhutan. During our conversation we
saw one monk entered our little shop, gulped down one large peg of neat whisky,
paid the shopkeeper and left. And people wonder why I want to convert into
Tibetan Buddhism so much.
That time we had no idea what was waiting for us the next
morning.
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| If you could spot the wildfire in 5 seconds.. well, you would get no prize |
To be continued
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