King's Birthday: Day 2
Scott and I left the house around 9:30 am and headed down the hill. Our plan was to get to lower market and see if we could hitch a ride to Trashigang, a town 22 kilometers away. To spend one of our two days off in Honor of the fifth King’s birthday, we thought it would be nice to get out of Kanglung and explore Trashigang. It was a great plan as the sun was out and walking around outside definitely beats lesson planning inside a cold house.
On the way to lower market, one vehicle passed us and Scott weakly attempted the Bhutanese gesture for asking for a ride – the small flapping of your hand, palm down, as your arm is stretched out down toward your leg. The vehicle hesitated for a bit but then drove on. Scott was regretting not running to the vehicle when it paused. I tried to make light of the situation by saying, “We’ll get a ride from another car.” Just as Scott was replying, “Have you noticed the traffic? There are no cars on the road,” a car came from behind us and slowed down – it was Kencho, the health technician at the BHU (Basic Health Unit) who has been kindly tending to Scott’s dog bite wound. He was on his way to Trashigang and offered us a ride in his empty car.
As we drove past lower market – usually a boundary point in our daily lives – the world became big again. Different blooming trees, different villages on different mountain slopes, different terraced fields, the river.
After a pleasant drive with only a ten-minute stop at a roadblock, we reached Trashigang. Kencho dropped us off in town before heading to the hospital for a meeting. Scott and I visited a few bakeries – there are none in Kanglung – and stores before heading to the archery ground. Yesterday at the King’s birthday celebration at Sherubtse, the governor had told us that if we were in the area, to stop by the match – the governor’s team versus the Home and Cultural Minister’s team. Lyonpo Minjur, Bhutan’s Minister of Home and Culture, was the chief guest of honor at yesterday’s festivities and, we learned, usually spends the rest of the holiday playing archery.
*
After buying a bag of peanuts, Scott and I discuss what the best vantage point to watch the competition from is. For this particular archery ground, there is no good vantage point. We see that right next to where arrows are flying by, a big tent and a big umbrella, many tables and chairs are set up. This is where the guests of the functions are sipping tea, chatting, eating. We haven’t been watching the archery for more than three minutes before the governor spots us and gestures for us to come on the field and sit with the other guests under the big umbrella.
Even though Scott and I appear underdressed – everybody else is wearing National Dress – we join the group and begin to be regaled lavishly with tea, pieces of cake, momos, and bowls of ara boiled with butter and egg (no one else is drinking). The vice-governor greets us and we spot another local friend who lives in Trashigang, Sonam. He comes over and begins to give us a who’s who of Trashigang as men step up to shoot arrows and women serve us different goodies (I know – a very typical sexist setup).
Each team does several dances throughout the match. The Governor of Trashigang District is second from the left. He was the one who had invited us to the match
Lyonpo Minjur, Bhutan's Minister of Home and Culture, gets ready to take a shot.
In Bhutan, archery is now mostly played with compound bows made in and shipped over from America. The men play on two teams and the target, which stands around two and a half feet tall and about a foot wide, is set 145 meters away, a roughly 475-foot distance. Opponents stand eerily close to the target as the arrows are shot. For every arrow that lands on the target, one point is given to the team and one scarf is given to the shooter, which is folded and worn around the waist, draped over the backside. If the arrow lands in the bulls-eye, three points are given. A team wins with 25 points, at which point a new game is started. For this particular competition, the scarves were made of silk and each piece is large enough to make a toego for the shooters’ wives.
At lunch, Scott and I are urged to get food before the majority of the rest of the crowd – the archers themselves, their wives (who cooked the meal), the young singers. In fact, while we are serving ourselves, Scott points out that I am the only female on the line – Lyonpo’s wife has already gotten her plate of food. We are then pushed to sit under the tent with Lyonpo, his wife, and a few other guests who are close to Lyonpo, including the director of Sherubtse. This is the sort of treatment that harkens back to my VIP post – being singled out because we’re BCF volunteer teachers, because we’re foreigners. I have no clue what others observing the situation think. From our experience, the Bhutanese just go out of their way to be generous and kind and extremely giving.
*
After being brought such liquids as curdled milk (to ease the sting of the chilies) and a glass of red wine, the director of Sherubtse offered Scott and I a ride home. While there were still things we wanted to do in Trashigang, we couldn’t say no to a free ride home.
On the way to lower market, one vehicle passed us and Scott weakly attempted the Bhutanese gesture for asking for a ride – the small flapping of your hand, palm down, as your arm is stretched out down toward your leg. The vehicle hesitated for a bit but then drove on. Scott was regretting not running to the vehicle when it paused. I tried to make light of the situation by saying, “We’ll get a ride from another car.” Just as Scott was replying, “Have you noticed the traffic? There are no cars on the road,” a car came from behind us and slowed down – it was Kencho, the health technician at the BHU (Basic Health Unit) who has been kindly tending to Scott’s dog bite wound. He was on his way to Trashigang and offered us a ride in his empty car.
As we drove past lower market – usually a boundary point in our daily lives – the world became big again. Different blooming trees, different villages on different mountain slopes, different terraced fields, the river.
After a pleasant drive with only a ten-minute stop at a roadblock, we reached Trashigang. Kencho dropped us off in town before heading to the hospital for a meeting. Scott and I visited a few bakeries – there are none in Kanglung – and stores before heading to the archery ground. Yesterday at the King’s birthday celebration at Sherubtse, the governor had told us that if we were in the area, to stop by the match – the governor’s team versus the Home and Cultural Minister’s team. Lyonpo Minjur, Bhutan’s Minister of Home and Culture, was the chief guest of honor at yesterday’s festivities and, we learned, usually spends the rest of the holiday playing archery.*
After buying a bag of peanuts, Scott and I discuss what the best vantage point to watch the competition from is. For this particular archery ground, there is no good vantage point. We see that right next to where arrows are flying by, a big tent and a big umbrella, many tables and chairs are set up. This is where the guests of the functions are sipping tea, chatting, eating. We haven’t been watching the archery for more than three minutes before the governor spots us and gestures for us to come on the field and sit with the other guests under the big umbrella.
Even though Scott and I appear underdressed – everybody else is wearing National Dress – we join the group and begin to be regaled lavishly with tea, pieces of cake, momos, and bowls of ara boiled with butter and egg (no one else is drinking). The vice-governor greets us and we spot another local friend who lives in Trashigang, Sonam. He comes over and begins to give us a who’s who of Trashigang as men step up to shoot arrows and women serve us different goodies (I know – a very typical sexist setup).
Each team does several dances throughout the match. The Governor of Trashigang District is second from the left. He was the one who had invited us to the match
Lyonpo Minjur, Bhutan's Minister of Home and Culture, gets ready to take a shot.In Bhutan, archery is now mostly played with compound bows made in and shipped over from America. The men play on two teams and the target, which stands around two and a half feet tall and about a foot wide, is set 145 meters away, a roughly 475-foot distance. Opponents stand eerily close to the target as the arrows are shot. For every arrow that lands on the target, one point is given to the team and one scarf is given to the shooter, which is folded and worn around the waist, draped over the backside. If the arrow lands in the bulls-eye, three points are given. A team wins with 25 points, at which point a new game is started. For this particular competition, the scarves were made of silk and each piece is large enough to make a toego for the shooters’ wives.
At lunch, Scott and I are urged to get food before the majority of the rest of the crowd – the archers themselves, their wives (who cooked the meal), the young singers. In fact, while we are serving ourselves, Scott points out that I am the only female on the line – Lyonpo’s wife has already gotten her plate of food. We are then pushed to sit under the tent with Lyonpo, his wife, and a few other guests who are close to Lyonpo, including the director of Sherubtse. This is the sort of treatment that harkens back to my VIP post – being singled out because we’re BCF volunteer teachers, because we’re foreigners. I have no clue what others observing the situation think. From our experience, the Bhutanese just go out of their way to be generous and kind and extremely giving.*
After being brought such liquids as curdled milk (to ease the sting of the chilies) and a glass of red wine, the director of Sherubtse offered Scott and I a ride home. While there were still things we wanted to do in Trashigang, we couldn’t say no to a free ride home.
posted by Siapiau | 9:32 PM
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