Three Years, Three Months, Three Weeks…
Just when I think life in Bhutan is nothing more than the daily humdrum of school life, something culturally exciting happens and I get jarred awake, remembering exactly where it is I am. I am in Bhutan – a place where customs are adhered to so strictly and beliefs so respected that a whole day of classes will get cancelled for the arrival of an important religious figure. That’s the thing about this country, no matter what, they remember what’s important to them, what’s always been important to them.
After my first literary event was complete (successfully) at the end of the school day, all the students and teachers lined the curvy roadside outside the school in anticipation of Je Khempo’s arrival – the Khempo, the head person in charge of all the religious institutions in Bhutan. Two students brought me a rachu to wear, since I hadn’t brought one to school with me, and I waited eagerly, too. Rinchen told me that Je Khempo would be driving through and blessing all of us. “Driving, and not walking?” I asked. Yes, driving – a drive-by blessing.
We waited for some time and soon someone got a call which was passed down to others that Je Khempo was below Yongphula, about 20 minutes away. We sat on the ground on the side of the road and chatted as some younger boys got restless and played and kicked up some dust and Rinchen gave them a scolding. Big branches of pine trees were being cut down to burn; apparently there’s a certain kind of pine that’s good luck religiously to burn. We listened to the crackle of branches breaking and falling and students lugged them to the front of the line. Soon, large plumes of smoke invaded the air and the smell of burning pine wafted through.
Soon, the students and other teachers started standing and up the hill we saw the flashing lights of a police escort vehicle, two of them, and in between them was a dark Land Cruiser. Rinchen said, “He’s in that one,” and even from a distance, I could see the curtains lining the car window. A long line of Toyota Hiluxes followed the second police car, completing the usual entourage of Toyota vehicles standard for very important people in Bhutan. As the vehicle approached the beginning of the line, Rinchen gave me a quick tutorial on what I should do. Since I had a rachu draped around my neck (as opposed to folded on one shoulder as it is when I go to a dzong), I should bring both ends together, bring the ends to cover my mouth, and bow my head. Everyone else not wearing a rachu or kabney either just covered their mouth with a hand or brought the arm cuff of either their gho or teogo and cupped it around their mouth. Je Khempo’s vehicle gradually approached and I saw what was happening – as his car drove slowly by, two policemen walked next to the passenger window as Je Khempo gently touched every single head that was bowed with a decorated stick. Someone sitting in the back was leaning out the window holding a yellow umbrella to shade Je Khempo.
So that’s how I got blessed by one of the holiest living figures in Bhutan. After Je Khempo had passed our entire school line, everyone started breaking up, collecting their bags, and going in various directions. There was a certain buzz in the air. After all, there are no classes tomorrow, an unexpected day off for the students. This morning the principal declared tomorrow a holiday. I liken it to when we were younger and had snow days off from school; there was this certain overwhelming happiness. But the teachers are expected to be at Zengdopelri Lakhang (temple) at 8:30 am for some very important ceremony, which is why Je Khempo is here at all. While I’m not really sure what will be going on at the temple tomorrow, I do expect chanting and long horns and offerings.
As I walked home, I stopped by the small shop across our driveway and started talking to the storeowners who are neighbors of mine. They had stood by the street as well and gotten blessed. That’s when I found out. Getting blessed by Je Khempo means nothing bad will happen to me for three years, three months, three weeks, three days, three hours, three minutes, and three seconds.
After my first literary event was complete (successfully) at the end of the school day, all the students and teachers lined the curvy roadside outside the school in anticipation of Je Khempo’s arrival – the Khempo, the head person in charge of all the religious institutions in Bhutan. Two students brought me a rachu to wear, since I hadn’t brought one to school with me, and I waited eagerly, too. Rinchen told me that Je Khempo would be driving through and blessing all of us. “Driving, and not walking?” I asked. Yes, driving – a drive-by blessing.
We waited for some time and soon someone got a call which was passed down to others that Je Khempo was below Yongphula, about 20 minutes away. We sat on the ground on the side of the road and chatted as some younger boys got restless and played and kicked up some dust and Rinchen gave them a scolding. Big branches of pine trees were being cut down to burn; apparently there’s a certain kind of pine that’s good luck religiously to burn. We listened to the crackle of branches breaking and falling and students lugged them to the front of the line. Soon, large plumes of smoke invaded the air and the smell of burning pine wafted through.
Soon, the students and other teachers started standing and up the hill we saw the flashing lights of a police escort vehicle, two of them, and in between them was a dark Land Cruiser. Rinchen said, “He’s in that one,” and even from a distance, I could see the curtains lining the car window. A long line of Toyota Hiluxes followed the second police car, completing the usual entourage of Toyota vehicles standard for very important people in Bhutan. As the vehicle approached the beginning of the line, Rinchen gave me a quick tutorial on what I should do. Since I had a rachu draped around my neck (as opposed to folded on one shoulder as it is when I go to a dzong), I should bring both ends together, bring the ends to cover my mouth, and bow my head. Everyone else not wearing a rachu or kabney either just covered their mouth with a hand or brought the arm cuff of either their gho or teogo and cupped it around their mouth. Je Khempo’s vehicle gradually approached and I saw what was happening – as his car drove slowly by, two policemen walked next to the passenger window as Je Khempo gently touched every single head that was bowed with a decorated stick. Someone sitting in the back was leaning out the window holding a yellow umbrella to shade Je Khempo. 
So that’s how I got blessed by one of the holiest living figures in Bhutan. After Je Khempo had passed our entire school line, everyone started breaking up, collecting their bags, and going in various directions. There was a certain buzz in the air. After all, there are no classes tomorrow, an unexpected day off for the students. This morning the principal declared tomorrow a holiday. I liken it to when we were younger and had snow days off from school; there was this certain overwhelming happiness. But the teachers are expected to be at Zengdopelri Lakhang (temple) at 8:30 am for some very important ceremony, which is why Je Khempo is here at all. While I’m not really sure what will be going on at the temple tomorrow, I do expect chanting and long horns and offerings. As I walked home, I stopped by the small shop across our driveway and started talking to the storeowners who are neighbors of mine. They had stood by the street as well and gotten blessed. That’s when I found out. Getting blessed by Je Khempo means nothing bad will happen to me for three years, three months, three weeks, three days, three hours, three minutes, and three seconds.
posted by Siapiau | 10:36 PM
1 Comments:
So wonderful! Thank you for writing this blog and sharing these amazing experiences.
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