"Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore" (or On the Other Side of the Border)

The dividing ling between Bhutan and India at the border town of Phuentsholing into neighboring Jaigon is marked by a sign that simply says, “Enter,” for pedestrians and a classic looking Bhutanese gate for cars. Scott and I followed our Bhutanese friend Sonam Topgyal, who had picked us up when our bus reached Phuentsholing 6 ½ hours after leaving Thimphu, through the “Enter” sign. We walked into a doorway out of Bhutan and out another doorway into India, a brand new country for both Scott and I. To say the shift in countries was startling would be an understatement. On the other side of the gate a completely different world existed, just as the bus ride had revealed a few hours earlier when the fresh, clean mountain air of the Thunder Dragon Kingdom gave way to smog and pollution the closer we got to India. On the other side of the border, in which Indians and Bhutanese can float between freely, were more crowds, more litter, more shops. Street food, street children, beggers – all things that are essentially non-existent in Bhutan.

I had my first experience with a clinging child begger – a boy no older than eight literally hanging onto me for three minutes. He dug his fingernails into my arm, he wrapped his arms and legs around ankle and shin, and he hooked his finger into the waist of my jeans. Scott, the only white man in sight, was clinger-free. Eventually the little boy released his grip on me. Later another child spotted me buying a plate of street momos and asked for one. I easily gave.

Scott and I followed Sonam through our first street of India. It was almost like an “Intro to India,” although we know the border town of Jaigon is one-hundredth as intimidating as other Indian cities. Scott and I kept saying, over and over, “This is so different.” Things were grittier, noisier, more intense. All the while, Bhutan, our home for the past year, was a few minutes walk away.

We followed Sonam into a sweet shop as he bought his children a New Year’s Eve cake and other treats. We then headed back to the quiet side. A blue Dantek sign on the Indian side plainly greeted us, “Welcome to the Royal Kingdom of Bhutan,” and I’d never felt so relieved to be crossing a border. Even it was just be for a few more short hours, Scott and I would feel safe and calm in Bhutan’s gentle embrace.