Wednesday, December 17, 2014

Arrunachal Pradesh toThimphu

"Crippled but free I was blind all the time I was learning to see"

Today is National Day in Bhutan but I am skipping all festivities since I have met my quota of culture for the year. However I do admire the dragon flag lined lanes of Thimphu with snow dusted peaks and pinnacles surrounding the cluttered valley. From the traffic circle or clock tower one can glimpse unspoiled nature. Thimphu is also a diverse Himalayan city with Nepali, Indian, Druk, Sharchop and many other minority ethnic groups millling. you also see girls dressed like fashion models and boutiques and handicraft stores line the avenues. Thimphu is more like San Francisco than Tsenkharla. My work is complete and I will fly out tomorrow. Unfortunately my fifth trip to Tigers Nest will wait a year. Oh to be in the cleft of the cave where Guru and Yeshi had a three way with the demon of the mountain thus forming a covenant. I read an interesting article the Tibetans couldn't manage the dense forests and heat of Trashigang being repelled from the Dzong that now is being dismantled. 

I paid about 200 bucks for my visas which unfortunately BCF won't cover. I'll pay anything including my soul or life to stay in the Kingdom. Seeing all these Phelincpa's roaming around the city is unnerving and I'm like a hungry wolf eyes darting more than usual while I await my cheeseburger.

I went to dinner with Scott and have seen a few other teachers but at this stage I'm on my own here which is kinda the point isn't it. I will roll over to the National Chorten and spin a few times than sample the Yak ribs that driver Jigme said were too salty. There is a lot to do and see around the capital but my pilgrimages are restaurants.

Thanks to Nancy, Karma, Meena, and Nima for helping me sew up all my loose ends and help me on my way.

After visiting Thimphu I feel eternally grateful to live in the farthest eastern quadrant of the Kingdom near the border of Arrunachal Pradesh. To be clear my journey stared from Tsenkharla (ON THE BHUTANESE SIDE OF THE SENSITIVE BORDER, I AM FORBIDDEN BY LAW TO GO NEAR THE INTERNATIONAL DEMARCATION) Ironically from my kitchen most of what I spy is Indian land.  THE ROAD to Thimphu only has 1/4 mile of flatness, the other 400 miles is one turn after another. Sometimes one can see the gravel track across the valley and it may take two hours to reach that part. The eastern mountains of Bhutan are the most inaccessible place one earth.  On the Big La near Sengor drop's fall four thousand feet vertically as the wheels skirt the shoulder without guard rails. Ice can make it especially perilous and every few miles headstones announce the mileage.

As for Thimphu its a fine city but I always feel restive here since I'm a country boy now. But I appreciate this diverse Himalayan nexus in the Kingdom of Bhutan which is more diverse and less goody two shoes than media projects. But even the seedy honor their heritage and today the Fourth and Fifth King are celebrating National Day at Sherubse in the forsaken LOT.  While eating at a cafe I noticed the requisite portrait of His Majesty perched next to a sketch of a naked woman facing backwards with exposed nipples, this picture wouldn't fly in Trashigang. It's strange dichotomy between eastern and western Bhutan and Thimphu and the rest of the country. Phuntsholing boasts sex parlours on the Jaigon border of West Bengal and drug busts are reported thanks to the draconian laws imposed by the DEA in Asia several years ago. When I come to Thimphu I see the degradation of traditional culture a trend that will never be reversed. The East will remain the last bastion of simplicity and agrarian lifestyle. Ironically my hourglass valley is more populated than the barren stretches in Central Bhutan.

I am fortunate to be here where everyday brings new adventure and as Jon says in his posting if your not meeting old friends your making new ones even on a transnational bus trip. I met a lovely college student. She was both simple and worldly a balance that must save the Bhutanese culture. Unlike the saggy pants spiked hair wannabe bangers that troll the streets of the capital, they'd be better off lighting butter lamps, isn't it. I hate to admit it but we are so much the same although culturally different. Eating with hands is acceptable in Bhutan and frowned upon in New york city. The cross country drive puts it in perspective, in Thimphu watching impeccably dressed Bhutanese kissing each others cheeks (Russian Style) seems unnatural. Mingling at T.M.S.S is limited to Mountain Worship and who needs a woman anyway, who needs to tether themselves to a ridiculous world where people cling to everyone and think like frightened children.I used to be a lover but now I'm a seeker, Like my pal Jon exclaim in his post being in love is a kick in the gut or a stomach full of butterflies. I have only felt that once maybe twice to a lesser degree and what more my heart has shut down opting instead for the hard shell of an inspiring mountain man who is lonely yet terrified to let someone in even if there was someone knocking which there isn't

Before I left Aunt Mare said on the magic phone that Bhutan was good for me and vice a versa.. I have shown the children another way I want them to be critical thinkers who trust their oen ability but Nancy pointed out that this system is unusual and can cause friction in the school between National and International staff.  It's imperative that volunteers get along with principals otherwise life may be hell. Attitude dictates reality though and NO Circumstances can ruin yourstay. I have had a rocky relationship with my own boss but also admire and respect him as a father figure. Heck he signed off on another year which makes him a Christ figure in my estimation. Alas he has gotten me out of a significant jam last year. His contention with me is my perceive informality with students (howling to demonstrate Dawa the Dog) Nancy who thinks I'm unrefined loud, and weird also has allotted me new respect as I continue on my journey. I am always paranoid she doesn't like me but I feel we have a new found respect for one another. Without her I would not fulfill my DESTINY and so for that reason she is revered. Karma also really stepped up for me this trip driving me to immigration and the Druk air office. I had to bust Nancy's chops reminding her that she never thought id be the last man standing from my "group" of 2012. As you can glean  I'm eternally eager  to  prove my worth to Aum Nancy. I have low self esteem in a job where confidence is paramount. So following my Mommy's advice is to "Fake it till I make it' is imperitive. 

I have a lot of improvement to make next year, a shot at redemption. I have done good things at the my posting but with only two years remaining (God Willing Please OH Great Spirit, Buddha, Guru Rinpoche, and dragged through the shit Jesus can you give me strength pretending that YOU fanatics are of divine make up. More likely these men were fanatics with runaway imaginations and delusions with Drukpa Kungley deflowerign thirteen year old girls cohursing  them to caves for sexual initiation in Tantric ways. Both imbibing Alcohol and penetrating pussy is the express rout for tantric enlightenment but ones heart must be diamond clear for this to work. For the rest of us with hangups we would crash and burn. For me sex has become a terrifying chore with both parties ultimately unsatisfied. Either my crippling anxiety dissapoints the hungry woman or I can't perform at all. Yet once was a time where I made love not as a man but an avatar in the same way that Guru and Yeshi rocked the world creating a vortex of enlightenment their orgasms replenishing the mothers spring. Sex Sex Sex boring right as your author sets out on a spiritual quest to rid himself of insatiable DESIRE that leads into the vicious cycle of clinging gasping and decreed rebirth until one can disintangle from their cloistered Love, family, and flesh. DId the aesetics have it correct living on a mat and starving on roots and rain water. People are damage confused and Genesis gives the intriguig account of original sin from that harlet Eve. As if Mary never enjoyed the manly sausage of Joseph get real people baby's are not implanted by GOD he might bust a gut at that theory even if he was REAL. Was it incest or God nighthunting into Marry's house and slipping her the celestial sausage.

But what of this offensice post? Think for yourself people and don't let exagerated myths of our origins deny the fact that we are all homo sapians imbued with fear anger and event the caapcity to kill or love. So drag out your fetstivas poles, manaorahs, Christmas trees with fairy lights. and rejoice in the great mystery and genuine connections and dont give a damn if your right or wrong since if God is real and compassionate he loves the murderer as much as Mother Tereesa.

Seasons Greetings From Thimphu...

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