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| Gangtey Monastery |
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| Thimphu |
When I landed in Bhutan, I felt alive by the September rain
that colored the mountains green and purified the fresh air. My eyes were wide open barely blinking
as if they were having a feast, gorging on the spectacular scenery of
forever-rising mountains. It had
been almost a year since I had been back in Bhutan, but all the love I felt for
the country and its culture came rushing back even stronger than before. The agape feeling that consumed me sparked
a stronger desire to be reunited with my close friends and students from last
year, so I immediately set out to central Bhutan making lots of visits on my
way to my new home.
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| Little JImmy in Gangtey |
One of my first stops was in beautiful Gangtey to see little
Jimmy, Sonam’s family and the Rinpoche of Gangtey. Since I arrived later than expected, little Jimmy was
sleeping, but Sonam’s mother waited up for me. We sat in the sitting room holding hands and smiling at each
other for quite sometime while catching up on lost time. There was joy in our hearts and all
over our faces to see each other again. I’m certain we have a karmic connection because I feel so
close to her even though we don’t speak the same language. In fact, some people think that I can
understand Dzongkha because I often know what she’s saying. It’s a funny thing to explain or watch,
but some Buddhist may explain it as a karmic tie. After some time, we decided to wake little Jimmy up and with
sleepy eyes he gave me the biggest hug.
It felt like Christmas watching him open a dozen of presents at midnight
from Sonam and I.
After a few days visiting little Jimmy, I was able to
personally thank the Rinpoche of Gangtey for inviting me to teach in his
nunnery. Then I made my way to Chumey
where I taught last year.
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| The lovely road into Chumey |
Driving down the straightest paved road in Bhutan leading
into Chumey Valley made me feel like I was coming home to another part of me:
the Bhutanese part of me that’s a Chumey girl! My ride dropped me off in front of the school where Norbu, my
dear monk friend, came trailing along the pitch-dark road to greet me. It was such a dark night that I could barely
see the outline of his robe approaching me, but I instantly recognized his
voice when he said, “Hey man, long time no see.” We hugged under a black sky and I was in disbelief to see my
favorite friend again.
The next morning, I attended school where I was bombarded by
mobs of students gathering around me in their checkered school dresses asking
me a thousand questions. My old
students who are now in class six dominated the mob giving me hugs and cards. One particular student, Neera, made my
tears lodge deep in my throat and I will never forget the sight of her running across
the courtyard out of breath with open arms. She had grown taller than me and was now able to throw her
arms around my neck for a tight cobra squeeze, which nearly threw me off
balance. Her eyes were full of
tears as she struggled to get the words out without openly crying as she stuttered,
“Miss, I was afraid that we would never meet again, but I never gave up
hope. I knew you would return.” Her pure happiness really touched my
heart and I felt grateful that I too didn’t give up hope on getting a visa back
to Bhutan.
After morning assembly, my former students threw me the most elaborate welcome back tea party with nearly a hundred cookies, rows of thermoses filled with tea, a bouquet of wild flowers, a homemade crown that read, “Best Teacher in the World” and balloons taped to the ceiling, which I was instructed to pop to experience a rainfall of confetti. I realized that one of the sweetest gifts life can offer is to be loved by children. It was one of the happiest days of my life and one that I will surely never forget.
That afternoon, I went to see one of the people I thought
about the most in Bhutan; I went to see sweet Dawa who lived with me last year,
but now lives in the dorms/hostel in a nearby high school. I was on the edge of my seat waiting
for her to come down a hill from her dorm room and at the first sight of each
other, we ran towards one another for a big embrace. Finally, it was my turn to cry during my
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| Dawa and I |
Bhutan reunions because
there was a part of me that felt incredibility guilty not really knowing how
she was doing while I was away. I
took care of her for several months last year, so there’s a part of me that will
always feel like I’m a family member to her. During our beautiful visit together, she reassured me that
she was happy and healthy, which made the guilt slowly subside.
Since Chumey houses so many people I love, I couldn’t help
but stay for several days teaching my old students, visiting past friends and
going for my old long walks around Chumey. It was strange at how it felt like I had never left. A part of me didn’t want to leave
again, but there was also another part of me that was anxious to meet my new
students who were only a few hours away: the nuns of Pema Choling nunnery.
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| Students with my suitcase |
So early the next morning, I was getting ready to leave
Chumey for the nunnery when all my students surprised me to see me off. Dozens of little fingers lifted my
suitcase and bags up in the air and marched my luggage all the way to Norbu’s car. With teary eyes they wished me the best
of luck and waved goodbye as Norbu drove me to the nunnery where I would again
fall in love with a different part of Bhutan, more sweet people and a whole new
experience.
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| The Pema Choling Nunnery |
Now I have been teaching at the nunnery for almost a month
and it is beyond fascinating. It
deserves it’s own special blog, which I will try to update the next time I come
into town since I don’t have Internet there.
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| A nice reunion |
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| Variety of Cookies |
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| Tea Party - Thermoses of suja and narja |
