Bhutan 2014: From Mongar Back to Jakar

The next morning (May 13th) we traveled from Mongar back to Jakar. Our first stop was at a roadside market just below Mongar town.

This was fiddlehead fern season, a treat reminiscent of asparagus. Joan and I enjoyed it several times on this trip.

A local specialty is toasted corn ... a heartier, unadulterated version of corn flakes. Eastern Bhutan grows a lot of corn.

We continued on after Tshering, our guide, bought some items, and began the climb to Thrumshingla, a gradual ascent at first.

Roughly in the vicinity of the Shongar ruins Joan called out for us to stop. She had spotted tigers that she had first seen on our drive into Mongar, two days earlier.

It has been a long tradition in Bhutan to create a small elevated platform in a farm field, where the farmer might sleep (or not) to protect the crops as they near ripeness. Raiders that must be deterred can include creatures up to and including wild hogs. This inventive farmer created or obtained faux tigers to take the day shift. A second one was more in the shade.

Tshering was impressed with Joan's eyesight and spotting skills; these photos were taken at 20x zoom.

In this corn field, or one just down the road, we spotted a yellow-breasted greenfinch.

And within minutes thereafter a fearless oriental magpie robin checked us out.

At sites where there had been quasi-permanent shelters erected for the road repair crews, there were permanent warning signs. (DOR is Department Of Roads.)

Some other roadside signs we remember are, "Shooting Stone" (what in the US would be "Falling Rocks") and "Inconvenience Regretted" ("End Construction"). Joan is fond of a slogan painted on one truck, "Must believe in my selfs."

On this segment of recently repaved road, we took advantage of the pullout and I photographed the leaning tree.

Kaka drove the van higher and higher on our way to the pass. We left the repaved road behind and drove by a cow.

Then fog descended. For several minutes I was concerned that our already modest pace would be slowed further all the way to the top,

but the foggy zone did not last long.

The steep-sided Himalayas often produce rockfalls that sweep away the pavement. Maintaining the national road/lateral highway is a constant struggle, especially during and just after the monsoons.

It requires delivery of stone and sand.

Our weaving along the concave and convex curves of the road was suddenly interrupted by a blood pheasant. I had only a few seconds to take this photo through the windshield. The GIMP helped me reduce the windshield effects.

Sometimes you can see the road ahead,

and sometimes you hope there is a road ahead.

The section leading down towards Ura, the easternmost town in the Bumthang district, stitches together hairpin switchbacks.

The outside of one of these curves was large and grassy, and became our picnic lunch spot. Yum! The big pot is a rice and corn mixture, a specialty of eastern Bhutan.

From our stop we could see the valley town of Ura peeking over a hill (click on the photo to enlarge).

While Tshering and Kaka cleaned and packed up, Joan and I strolled down the road, bird-listening and bird-watching. I did get a picture of a Mrs. Gould's sunbird.

A bypass has largely been finished from just east of Ura to Nangar, on the national highway just south of Jakar. The first few miles were still unpaved, but most of it is new, remarkably straight pavement. Kaka found it boring. Just after we turned onto this bypass, Joan spotted a Eurasian Cuckoo with prey in its beak. It was further away than I would have liked, but I did get a blurry photo. Are you getting the idea that Joan is an excellent spotter? Good.

From Nangar we continued on to Jakar, traversing a section of the highway that we had skipped when hiking from Tharpaling to Jakar. However, today's story was not yet over.

First, when we arrived at the Yu Gharling Resort (Hotel), they assigned us to room 202, not, as our guide Tshering thought he had arranged, a room in the same building as three nights before. A consultation between Tshering and the manager ensued, including the manager's comment about "a large tour group." We decided to take a look at 202, did so, and said it would be OK.

Then as we unpacked we noticed that some spots in the floor flexed, like walking across a trampoline. This wasn't reassuring, but we could walk around them. As we began to clean up, and Joan was undressed, the door between our room and the one adjacent began to open. Our previous room had not had such a suite-creating door. Joan called out "Excuse me!"  and the door-openers shut it. I went over to lock that door, but even with leaning on it and pressing both up and down to take out any slack, it would not latch. The deadbolt was at least a centimeter (perhaps 3/8") out of vertical alignment with the catch.

I pushed a chair against the door and in a position to block the lever-style handle from moving.

Tshering met us at dinner and told us that he would dine tonight with his brother-in-law at the Noryang restaurant. We told him that while, having unpacked, we would remain in 202 for one night, we needed to move for our second night. Tshering said if we packed before we left for tomorrow's activities the staff would move our stuff.

Joan and I had our private dinner. Near the end a woman from a couple of tables away came over, and the usual inter-tourist conversation began. "Where have you been so far?" She talked, and talked some more. Then she asked to sit down, and we said, "Sure." Oops. We were told about how many places she'd been in addition to Bhutan, how many languages she spoke, what an excellent traveler she was, and how clever she was. It was a strictly one-sided conversation. At about the half-hour mark her husband joined us, but her verbal assault did not abate. When the restaurant had emptied Joan and I deployed the "I think the staff needs to clean up" defense, and we both prayed that she would not follow us all the way back to our room. Fortunately she paused at the parting of our routes and Joan and I made our escape. Inside, we laughed at the absurdity of it all, but resolved to keep an eye out and not approach her orbit again.

Tomorrow we would explore more of the Bumthang region, including a hike. Sneak preview: it was a great day.

Bhutan 2014: Lhuntsi and Khoma

Lhuntsi, Lhuntse, Lhuentse, you'll see the name of this town in northeastern Bhutan spelled any number of ways. For consistency I'll stick with Lhuntsi. Today, May 12th, we took a daylong expedition from Mongar to visit Lhuntsi dzong and the nearby village of Khoma/Koma.

From where the Mongar spur joins the Lhuntsi road it is "only" 65km to Lhuntsi. Nonetheless it will take us about 2¼ hours to get there from here, or almost 3 hours in total from the hotel. The Lhuntsi district is considered one of the most isolated in Bhutan.

For this reason the new government of Bhutan has revived a plan to build a bypass between Shingkhar and Gorgan -- avoiding Thrumshing La (pass) -- which will cut through the pristine Thrumshingla National Park, and whose merits are still under contention. It would better connect Lhuntsi to the Bumthang region and points west, although how much is in dispute.

The road from Mongar to Lhuntsi is not part of the national highway/lateral road. The Kuri Chhu (river) cuts a steep valley through the mountains, and the narrow road clings to one bank or the other. In this photo the road is on the far right (click to enlarge).

We stopped across the river from a section of vertical cliffs where bee hives cling to the rock face, covered in swarming bees. This photo is at maximum zoom.

At one point we briefly saw a black wild boar, who dashed off the road. Later on we passed a location where tsa-tsas are being made. Some tsa-tsas are devotional or merit-increasing objects, such as an image of the Buddha. Most frequently in Bhutan the term refers to conical clay objects, of small to middling size, which have ashes of a deceased person mixed in, to be placed in a holy or otherwise auspicious spot. This batch has been set out to dry before any decoration, such as paint or gilding, is applied.

A closer look. We'll see finished, installed tsa-tsas in a later post.

When almost to Lhuntsi we passed this location, where the stream from Khoma village joins the Kuri Chhu. An elaborate stupa/chorten complex has been built at the confluence. Just above it is the dirt road to Khoma.

Again, having set the scene, I'll provide a closer look.

Ahead we could see the Lhuntsi dzong looking over the countryside.

The dzong is approached through the town on a series of switchbacked narrow streets, affording a view of both front and back.

From the front you can see that the Lhuntsi dzong is an extensive complex with satellite buildings.

There are several terraces to be walked on the way to the central courtyard.

Even the first small gateway has Buddhist art on the ceiling,

and the walls.

A view of the Kuri Chhu from one of the terraces.

The last entryway/staircase has more wall art, including the guardian kings of the four directions. The white king is East, blue is South, red is West and yellow is North.

After the final staircase we emerged into the main courtyard.

A closer look at some of the carved and painted woodwork.

The highlight of our visit was seeing and hearing the student monks in their practice/study hall.

A closer, non-panoramic photo provides better brightness.

Part of the back wall. Notice that the hanging white objects aren't tassels, they are compact fluorescent light bulbs. This picture was probably taken with the camera in Creative Mode, sub-mode Expressive, which brightens and saturates the colors. (Other sub-modes would be sepia tone, black and white, etc.)

On the way out I took a pair of images to illustrate the difference between Creative->Expressive Mode and normal on my camera. I think you can tell which is which!

Next we headed for the small village of Khoma, known for its distinctive style of weaving silk, kushuthara. Until an auto bridge was built in 2012 visitors had to walk across a footbridge and then hike to the village. Here's a picture of the old footbridge (click to enlarge).

And the new auto bridge.

Very new.

The road to Khoma is a couple of miles of dirt track, but Kaka  our expert driver got us safely there. The weavers sit outside on the porches.

Joan, Tshering, and I were soon surrounded by weavers with cloth to sell. I was transformed into a display rack, scarves and lengths of cloth dangling from my arms as Joan and Tshering checked the offerings. Joan decided on one section of cloth, which is now mounted in a frame in our home,

and two scarves.

Looking closer:

After the assembly dispersed and my arms were unencumbered I took this photo of the porch where all the action had taken place. Shopping at Khoma cuts out the middleman; these fabrics would be much more expensive in a handicraft shop in Thimphu or Paro, and the weavers wouldn't receive as much for their work.

We rejoined the main road, and half an hour later found a lunch stop, on a side road close to the highway.

At a bend in the side road there was an open area. Part of it was in use as a drop-off for empty beer bottles, prior to taking them for recycling, but there was plenty of room for our lunch. This photo is taken from that open area.

Soon after leaving our lunch spot we encountered a rhesus macaque.

Thirty minutes after stopping for the monkey we passed a road repair crew.

Roadwork in Bhutan is almost always subcontracted out to Indian (Bengali) companies, who bring in Bengali workers. For paving repairs the workers shovel gravel and sand into a wood-fired tank of melted pitch to create the asphalt mix. The old pavement might be sprinkled by hand with pure pitch in preparation for laying down the asphalt, which is shoveled into a hand cart and wheeled by one or more men up to the current point of repair. The only mechanized part of the job is the steamroller that flattens each section. In remote locations, of which there are many, large rocks are smashed into gravel by hand, often by women and families.

It's hard, hot work, and depending on the location and the duration of the job, the workers are housed in temporary buildings or makeshift tents. Nonetheless, given the Indian economy, there is no shortage of workers willing to come to Bhutan. Even with their modest wage they can send money home, and as long as they are legally employed in Bhutan the guest workers are eligible for free medical care, as if they were, in that respect, a temporary Bhutanese citizen.

After another half hour on the road, we encountered a long, aging suspension footbridge. Tshering joked with us about taking the walk across, but he never asked Kaka to pull over.

When we arrived back in Mongar this young woman was instructing her son in the sport of kuru, or darts. In this case the boy was throwing rocks, not darts, at the target board.

Here is the view from our window that  night.

Somebody is always resting, or waiting for their friends, at the prayer wheel.

Tomorrow we would retrace our tracks over Thrumshingla and return to Jakar for another two nights in the Bumthang region.