Blessed Rainy Day

Some of Sonam's family members

Blessed Rainy Day was on Saturday, September 22.  At first, I had no idea what blessed rainy day was, but it sounded like a special day.  So I wanted to spend it with some people I had come to love dearly in Bhutan:  Sonam’s family.  

Since all the schools got the day off to celebrate it, my friend Norbu the monk, Dawa and I headed to Gangtey Village on a Friday evening.  Dawa and Norbu are from Gangtey village as well as Sonam’s family.  Hence, I was going to be reunited with little Jimmy, which we hadn’t seen each other since he moved to Gangtey in July after Sonam moved to Canada. 

I was so excited to see little Jimmy that Norbu and I sang the whole way and it seemed as though nothing could burst my bubble.  However, when we were almost there, Sonam called me from Canada to deliver the bad news: she found out that Jimmy was sick with a high fever.  I was bummed!  Nevertheless, we continued our journey.

Grandma, me and little Jimmy

Due to the thick night fog, we reached Gangtey around 1:00 a.m. to find Sonam’s mother, who I call angay or grandma, waiting up for me.  She ran outside to hug me and held my hands as she led me into the house.  Even though grandma only speaks Dzongkha, I have a weird “heart connection” with her that makes me feel like we can communicate without speaking the same language.  For instance, when I went inside, I knew that grandma was insisting in Dzongkha on waking little Jimmy up to see me and at the same time she knew that I was begging her in English to let him sleep.  Although we were talking to each other in different languages, we somehow knew what the other was saying due to this loving connection we have.  Needless to say, grandma won the argument. 

As she woke Jimmy up in his bed, I was shocked to discover that his little face was as red as a tomato and his lips were dark purple.  At first, I thought that he got a severe sunburn, but then I realized it was from the fever.  Although his scary fever should had repelled me to run away, surprisingly it had the opposite effect on me.  I immediately rushed to his bedside and put my hand on his forehead to gauge his temperature.  He was burning up and I quickly removed some of the blankets from him.  I was overcome with worry because he looked worse than I had imagined.  He was so sick, he could barely give me a smile and he was whispering for water. 

Little Jimmy

He wanted to talk to me so badly, but all I could hear were little muffled Dzongkha whispers.  His mom, Pasang, told me that he was whispering that I came to see him because Sonam must had informed me that he was really sick and I must had been worried.  So I said, “Oh, yes, yes, I came to see you because you’re sick” and I gave everyone a wink.  I wanted to hug and kiss him, but I refrained myself so I wouldn’t get his germs.  Instead, I sat next to him for some time placing a cold rag on his head and he seemed to perk up a bit trying to tell me all about his new school.  Then my eyes filled with tears when Pasang pointed out how happy he looked to see me and that sometimes when he comes home from school he says, “Mom, lets talk!  Lets talk about Miss Sabrina…” and he often says “That’s not how Miss Sabrina does it…” for any little thing like baking cakes.  A part of me was worried that he was going to forget about little old me, so it was nice to hear that he hadn’t.   

Then after an hour or so of chatting, I went to sleep for a few hours only to be woken up by a loud speaker of Buddhist prayers being poured over the valley from the monastery nearby.  I tiptoed out of the bed and Pasang instructed me to go outside to scoop some water over my head from an open barrel that had some beautiful, colorful flowers floating inside.  She explained that pouring water over my head under the open sky while praying at dawn on Blessed Rainy Day would clear my sins (we would do this several times throughout the day) because Buddha was also taking a bath in the sky and would bless the top of my head from above.  She also said that all water was considered holy on this day.  Additionally, I learned that the day marked the end of the monsoon season.

Gangtey

So I eagerly crept outside onto the balcony in the cold towards the barrel of water.  Although the sun hadn’t quite pierced the sky, the tinge of the blue was just light enough for me to get a peek of the million dollar views I had remembered seeing in the winter.  However, this time everything was greener and I thought the summer monsoons had upgraded it to billion dollar views.  It was that spectacular!

For several minutes, I stood outside on the ten-foot high balcony by myself pouring cold water over my head listening to the stream of Buddhist prayers mixed with the splashing of the cold water running off my forehead and I liked watching how the water tumbled off my head hitting the ground like a waterfall.  That’s when I suddenly got a flashback of the first time I went to Gangtey with Sonam and we were washing our faces out on that very same balcony with cold water.  I remembered the way it was trailing off my face pouring off the side of the balcony similar to that moment.  Then I could no longer deny the undercurrent of sadness I felt being back in Gangtey amongst Sonam’s family, but without Sonam.  For the first time in a long time, it felt like she was so far away and a strong wave of sadness came over me.  It seemed like our days together were such a distant memory and I started to miss her all over again as though she had just left.  So of course, a special prayer started to naturally flow out of my heart for Sonam, Jimmy and her family as I poured the last of the cold water over my head.  Then I went back to bed still carrying the heavy sadness in my chest. 

Front Row:  Grandma, Jimmy, me and Pasang

But when I woke up a few hours later, it seemed as though I had slept away the sadness because the first thing I did was head straight to Jimmy’s room with excitement and zest hoping that he was better, but I should had known that he wasn’t because he didn’t wake me up at 6:00 a.m.  Sure enough I found him still moaning in bed.  Again I felt his forehead with the back of my hand and he was on fire.  I was a little scared because I had never seen him so quiet and still before.  I took a wet cloth and told him that I was going to make his fever go down.  For about 15 minutes, I sat close to him dipping the cloth in a bowl of cold water every few seconds and placing it on his forehead, eyes, cheeks, head and neck.  The rag would instantly become hot from his burning fever and I had to keep re-dipping it in the cold water to keep it cool.  Sometimes we would laugh when I covered his eyes with the wet cloth and other times he would groan, “No more, last time, errr.”  All a while, all I could think was how much I missed him and loved him dearly.  I also laughed from time to time because he looked exactly the same from three months ago and he hadn’t grown a bit; he was still tiny and cute.  

Jimmy washing
his face on
the balcony

He felt better

While Jimmy dozed in and out of sleep, Pasang and I went back outside to wash our hair on the balcony to induce more blessings.  I squatted near the edge of the balcony while she poured water over my head and I lathered it with shampoo and conditioner.  Next we took turns helping each other rinse our long hair while we said, “Thri, Thri, Thri” (Blessed Rainy Day).  Then Pasang and grandma took Jimmy outside in his underwear and tried to give him a bath on the balcony in a tub of cold water.  He cried and cried begging to go back inside while I pleaded with him to get in the tub so the cold water could bring down his fever and grandma begged him to have a proper bath on blessed rainy day.  After a few minutes of grandma pouring cold water over him and him crying out loud, she let him go back inside.  Fortunately, the bath seemed to relieve his fever a bit because he started to walk around and he unwrapped the present I brought him.  However, I knew that he was still sick because Pasang and I played with the present more than he did and he didn’t eat any of the chocolate I brought him.   

Norbu, me and Uncle Dorji Lopen

Gangtey Monastery

Finally, after a breakfast of Thup (porridge), we all went to the Gangtey Monastery to circumambulate the monastery and pray.  Jimmy insisted on going because he was determined to get a toy gun at the shops that were propped up everywhere to sell goods on the special day.  Although he looked better, he still wasn’t his rambunctious self. 

At the monastery, all of Sonam’s relatives came up to me with warm smiles to say hello as well as all of Norbu’s and Dawa’s relatives.  The monastery was full of locals and dozens of tourists.  It was nice to see so many familiar faces within a large crowd of strangers. 

Circumambulating

Moreover, we stayed at the monastery until the late evening to watch a mask dance.  During the mask dance, Norbu took me under his wing and explained the ceremony to me.  It was beautiful the way the monks in the masks spun around and whipped their masks from side to side and up and down subduing evil spirits.  I also forgot how fun it was to watch Norbu in his home environment; everyone greets Norbu with handshakes and nods.  He is the most popular monk I have ever seen.

Some friends

Later, when we got home, Pasang, Jimmy, grandma and I all huddled on the bed lying around, laughing and sipping Thup.  It was such a great feeling to be there and I couldn’t help but recognize how it felt like we had lounged around together a thousand times as if I had known them all my life.  At that moment, I thought that I must be the luckiest foreigner to be adopted into this loving Bhutanese family and I wondered how it was that I felt so comfortable in their presence.  Then Sonam called us from Canada and for a few moments it felt like she was physically in the room with us.  And although I didn’t tell her, I think that she knew that I felt grateful to her for welcoming me into her family.

Finally, the next day, I knew that Jimmy was better when he woke me up at 6:00 a.m.; he climbed in bed with me with his cold feet while blasting his toy gun in my ear.  I was happy that I got to see him healthy and happy before I had to go home. 

Uncle, Jimmy, me and Dawa

In fact, when it was time for me to leave, I had to remind myself over and over again that I would see little Jimmy and Sonam’s family again so not to cry.  I could feel the tears trying to bubble up within my throat and pour out of me while little Jimmy looked at me with big, sad eyes anxiously awaiting his hug goodbye.  Fortunately, I managed to swallow the tears away as I hugged everyone farewell on the side of the dirt road and I knew that a little nu could make any child grin.  However, I didn’t know that little Jimmy had also given me a present that would stay with me for a week: HIS FEVER! 

Gangtey 

Although I was deathly sick, I couldn’t help but realize that there are two places in Bhutan that feel really special to me: Chumey and Gangtey.  Chumey, Bumthang is my home in Bhutan so it will always have a special place in my heart.  However, Gangtey resonates with me in a similar way.  I think that I love Gangtey so much not only because it is so dreamy, but also some of the people I have come to care about the most in Bhutan all come from Gangtey: Sonam, little Jimmy, Grandma, Passang, Norbu, Dawa, etc.  Also when I walk through Gangtey, I don’t feel like a foreigner because all of Sonam’s family, Norbu’s family and Dawa’s family greet me like I am an old friend and they make me feel like I am coming home to something very special.  Thus, I can’t wait for my next trip to Gangtey to see little Jimmy and all the sweet people of Gangtey.  

WHAT'S A STONE BATH???

On the second day of the Bhutanese Losar (New Years), I was thrown into a whirlwind of curiosity and confusion, which all ended in a nice, comical surprise.  It all started when my Bhutanese friend, Sonam, asked me, “Would you like to have a stone bath today?”

Intrigued I responded, "What’s a stone bath?" 

Sonam looked at me with pure amusement and broke into laughter, "Hahaha you don’t know what a stone bath is?  Don’t you know that tourist come to Bhutan to take stone baths and they pay a lot of Nu for them?  Don’t you have stone baths in America?" 

Now I felt a little embarrassed that I had no clue what she was talking about and I said, "Hmmm I’m sure we must have stone baths in America, but I never have seen a stone bath let alone had one.  So what is it?"

Sonam started to turn into her teacher mode, "A stone bath is…"

Then as I got an idea, I shouted, "WAIT! STOP! Don’t tell me yet, I’ll draw a picture of what I think it looks like and then you tell me if my drawing is correct or even close.  It will be fun!" I didn't realize how fun my drawing would actually become.

"Ok, this should be interesting…" she said with a smile.

I thought about the two words: STONE BATH.  Hmm, it’s seems totally self-explanatory.  It has to be something like a bathtub made out of stones, hence the name, stone-bath. Duh, this is easy.  Then I proceeded to draw a perimeter of a bathtub with smooth, round stones containing steamy water with a good looking stick figure (me) enjoying the bath.  When I showed Sonam my drawing, her face said it all; my picture was incredibly off and not even close to what a stone bath entailed (however, she knew that the stick figure was meJ).  She laughed and laughed as well as ran away with my picture to show everyone in her family my funny looking depiction of a stone bath, which made everyone look at me with a sly grin and more laughter.  

Based on everyone’s reaction to my little picture, we agreed that she wouldn’t tell me what a stone bath was so I would have a nice surprise once I saw it.  However, it wasn’t just my lack of knowledge about stone baths and my likeness for surprises that brought about the ultimate shock.  Instead it was my first time experience facing a language barrier in Bhutan that aroused a hysterical miscommunication between a monk, and myself, which lead to the real unfolding of a stone bath.

All day I thought about what the stone bath could possibly look like and I kept coming back to the same image that I drew of a bath made out of stones.  I wondered how it would be filled with hot water and if it was indoors or outdoors.  Finally, as the evening started to approach, my adventure of the stone bath really started to spiral the minute Sonam announced, “It’s time to get ready for the stone bath.  Let’s go while we have a few hours before dark.  Grandpa said that he is going to prepare it for you like he does for the tourists…” 

Sonam, her monk brother named Dorji, her grandpa and I drove across a salad bowl of valleys for what seemed like forever to grandpa’s place.  I was so excited that I looked like little Jimmy bouncing around the front seat, hanging my head out the window taking in the fresh, cold air and waving to people as we drove by.  My excitement peaked when we turned down a narrow dirt road that had been scrapped out of a mountain leaving behind the evidence of jagged, angry looking rocks.  I asked Sonam, “Can your tires handle this road and how are you going to turn around?”  “Yes, this is Bhutan and these are our roads…” she said with confidence. 

There were no roads to this spot

Eventually she stopped the car and I looked around searching for the sight of a house amongst the usual scenes of enormous woody mountains, but I didn’t see any houses nearby.  As Dorji and her grandpa got out of the car, I asked, “What are we stopping for?” Sonam answered, “I can no longer drive because there are no roads to grandpa’s house way up that mountain and you guys will have to walk to get there (these are the roads of Bhutan)”  I was so anxious to discover this mysterious bath that I didn’t even process what she had just said and I jumped out of the car saying lets go!  However, Sonam didn’t get out of the car and instead she fidgeted with the steering wheel.  Then she hesitantly said, “I have to go back and help mom prepare the Losar dinner, then I will come back with the food and everyone else.  Will you be ok alone with Dorji and my grandpa? I promise to be back before the bath is ready so I can explain it to you.”   

I was so revved up about discovering what this stone bath was all about that it didn’t occur to me that I was being dropped off in the middle of nowhere with a monk who spoke a little English and a great-grandpa who didn’t speak a word of English.  And so I naively said, “Ya, no problem.  Don’t worry about me I’m fine.  I can take care of myself and if I can’t, then Dorji will take care of me hahaha, right Dorji?”  Dorji smiled at me as if he understood me and at the time I was sure he did.  Dorji and I had known each other for two short days and although I was just about to learn that he didn’t understand everything that I had been saying, we were going to get to know each other a whole lot better.   

As Sonam drove away leaving a cloud of dust trailing behind her, I was eager to document the excitement I felt about another one of my first time experiences in Bhutan.   I busted out my camcorder and batted my eyelashes at the monk hoping that he wouldn’t mind filming me so I could make another home documentary.  I started to ask Dorji all kinds of questions to get my documentary rolling, but I quickly discovered that he didn’t understand English that well and he was struggling to talk to me in English.  Then I started to think about what our encounters where like over the last couple of days that caused me to think that he spoke English.  Well, maybe it was because I had short brief conversations with him where I would ask him simple questions, such as where do you live, and then he would smile, nod or murmur a few words like India.  I thought that he understood everything that I had been saying the last couple of days and now it just dawned on me that Sonam had been translating most of the conversations that I had been rambling on with her entire family.  Geez how did I miss the fact that he might not know what the heck I was saying. 

Once I registered that Sonam was long gone and I was very far from anyone who spoke fluent English, I felt like I was really on my own.  That’s when all my joyful thoughts turned into nervous what-if thoughts like a sudden flash flood:  What if I start to have an allergic reaction from today’s lunch and I need to be airlifted away, how I am going to communicate this to them, or what if I get travelers diarrhea and I need a toilet with toilet paper, but they don’t understand me. What if Sonam never comes back for me and I’m stuck here for days, ahhhhh.  Then after a few minutes, my chest started to hurt from the wicked what-if thoughts, which signaled me to snap out of my insanity:  No way am I going to let this little language barrier squash my excitement.  Besides Sonam said that she would be back soon before the bath is ready.  I’m fine.  No big deal.  This could be fun. I can make up sign language. Yaaa I’m going to take a stone bath in the Himalayan Mountains weeeeeeeee… what the heck is a stone bath…

We hiked up a steep mountain following a rocky, narrow dirt road that was so rough, only grueling tractors could drive on it to get to dusty crop fields.  I could see the hut that looked as small as an ant in the distance and I tried my best to keep up with Dorji and grandpa.  Straggling behind them, I couldn’t help but notice grandpa’s huge calves.  Even though Grandpa was literally half a century older than me (he’s 79 years old), he seemed stronger and healthier than me.  I was panting out of breath while grandpa looked like he could hold up that very mountain with the tip of his finger.  In fact, I’m always admiring how most of the Bhutanese elderly seem to be this way and their strength reminds me of my Portuguese grandparents from the Azores. 

Mounds of turnips behind me that I thought were stones

Once we reached the top, grandpa showed me where the tourists who take the stone bath eat their meals.  It was a small hut constructed out of flat and roundish stones. The way the different sizes of the large stones had been thoughtfully fitted together looked so beautiful and rustic.   The stonewalls were covered with candles and at one end of the room there was a mound of rosy turnips.  At the time, I had no idea what they were showing me because they couldn’t communicate it to me in clear enough English and I couldn’t understand Dzongkha, so I was making a lot of guesses from Dorji’s broken English and gestures.  It wasn’t until later that night, would Sonam give me the correct information.  For instance, I thought the turnips where stones and when I asked Dorji if these where stones for the bath he said yes.  It took me awhile to realize that he was saying yes to almost every question I asked.  

Dorji how far is the stone bath? 

Yes!

Dorji where is the stone bath?

Yes!

Dorji… Dorji… Dorji…

Yes! Yes! Yes!

This didn’t stop me from continuing to talk his ear off because every so often he knew what I was saying and it was causing lots of laughter between us.  Although we were struggling to communicate with each other, there wasn’t a minute of frustration and we were always giggling or smiling.  The atmosphere was light and playful.  I could feel the warmth of generosity from their hearts wanting to share a piece of their culture with me and they could feel my excitement and gratitude of taking it all in. 

Next, I followed them further up the mountain towards another single stone hut (which I mistaken for grandpa’s house) and I just knew that the stone bath had to be near.  I was so anxious to discover it that I kept asking Dorji, “Is the stone bath over there?” and of course he would respond, YES!  This time I believed his yeses and I gave him the camcorder to film what my face would look like when I saw the stone bath for the first time.

The suspense was causing me to bubble over like a corked Champaign bottle.  I walked backwards so I couldn’t see it until I was right behind it.  I asked, “Dorji is the stone bath behind me?” and once again he said YES!  I knew that I shouldn’t have believed him when I walked backwards into a thin bamboo fence and nearly tripped.  “Dorji, you have to tell me when I am going to walk backwards into something,” I said tittering in semi denial that he didn’t speak fluent English.  I continued to ask him, "Can I stop walking backwards now? Are you filming? Don’t forget to film my face! If I turn around will I see it?"

On cue Dorji answered, "Yes, yes, yes, ughhhhhhhh yes"

It's a fire pit not a stone bath lol

I bubbly said into the camera, "Ok on the count of three I’m going to turn around and see the stone bath for my first time. One Two Three… OH MY (lots of laughter at what I saw) this isn’t what I was expecting."

My eyes popped out of my eye sockets and I was extremely shocked looking at what I thought was the stone bath, but what was really a big special fire pit grandpa was making to heat up the stones.  I didn’t know that the actual stone bath was inside the hut and Dorji didn't have the words to help my funny looking face of confusion.  As I stared at the unique fire pit trying to look really optimistic, I thought how am I going to get in there? What is that?  It looks like a fire pit.  Wow, this is a real surprise.  Why do people pay so much Nu for this?  This can’t be the stone bath… grandpa must be building it on top of this fire pit… Oh where is Sonam? Hahahhaha

Heated Stones

Poor Dorji could clearly see that I was confused looking at the dry fire pit wondering how people bathe in it and he tried his best to spit out some English words to clarify the misunderstanding.  Finally, he took the camera off me and motioned me to look inside the hut and that’s when it all started to come together.  As I studied a wooden rectangular bath inside the hut, the floodgates of my observations opened up and I started laughing at myself saying over and over, “Ahhhh I get it, it’s all making sense now, I know what a stone bath is, oh thank you Dorji.”

 Stone Bath

Finally, I figured out that a stone bath in Bhutan starts off with heating large stones in a fire.  Once the stones are glowing red from the fire, they are placed in a box section or chamber of a wooden bathtub that is filled with water.  The small holes in the chamber section allow the large hot stones to slowly heat all the water and prevent the stones from entering the other side of the tub and burning someone’s legs off.   The wooden bath looks like a long, deep trough.  The minerals from the hot stones leach out into the water and some medicinal plants are also added to the water.  It’s very relaxing and if you have never heard of a stone bath, now you know!

Can A Stone Bath Make You Feel Drunk?

Sure enough Sonam came back with a carload of people and food just as the stones where ready to be put into the wooden bathtub.  There was so much commotion and excitement that I didn’t have time to narrate to her the funny miscommunications throughout the day. I was more concerned about the pattern of checkered holes in the woven bamboo doors of the hut and I asked Sonam, “Do I have to go in the stone bath naked? What if someone sees me through these big gaps in the woven doors?”  Since I was feeling extremely shy and conservative, Sonam said that it was ok to go into the stone bath with a tank top and undies.  She also laughed at how my American mind was worried about perverts and peeping Toms.  She said that was nonsense and nobody would do that here; people can take baths in front of others as well as with their entire family and no one would stare.  We had a really interesting and funny conversation about the differences of our culture.  

Sonam told me to first wash my hair and body outside the wooden bathtub inside the hut using a scooper to pour the water over me because she and her family would also be using the same water to take a bath after me.  She also said that I could stay in there for an hour and that she would stay near, huddled by the fire with her family incase I needed anything.  I thought that there was no way I would stay in there for an hour maybe twenty minutes tops, but the strangest thing happened: the minerals of the hot stones consumed me taking me into another world. 

Tangy Sunset

It was sunset and I sat in the bath that was high on a mountain absorbing the beautiful colors of goldish and redish sunrays that stretched through the gaps of that old boomboo door.  Ironically, I was now thrilled that the doors had a hundred holes in it, so the tangy sunset could peak in the hut lighting it a warm amber color. , As the sun faded away, through those little holes I watched the colors of the sky slowly change different shades of baby blue until it finally turned into jet-black.  When the sky fell into darkness, like magic the candles started to slowly glow filling the hut with a dim romantic flicker.  It was so beautiful and I once again found myself falling deeper in love with the Himalayan Mountains of Bhutan. 

I managed to practice some energy medicine in the bath for several minutes to clear my mind and keep it quiet.  I sat in the bath feeling pure peace listening to all the surrounding sounds and I had no concept of time.  Half way through my bath, her grandpa put more stones in my water, which made it so hot that I had to add a bucket of ice water and I took several breaks from the heat by sitting on the edge of the tub with my feet dangling in.  Every once in a while Sonam would yell out, “Sabrina, are you ok? Your so quiet, your scaring me” (She later told me that she thought the heat from the hot water made me pass out and I drowned ha).  Each time she yelled out to check on me, I would say, “Yes, I’m getting out now,” which was always a lie. 

When I eventually got out an hour later, the combinations of falling in love with Bhutan, the intense heat and the minerals made me feel like I was literally intoxicated.  I dried off holding onto the edge of the bath to keep my balance.  I didn’t want to tell Sonam that I felt like I was in a hazy cloud and scare her.  I assumed that it was the heat of the water that made me slightly dizzy and it would soon pass, so I kept quiet and zigzagged my way to grandpa’s house while she took her turn to take the stone bath with her family.

Candle Lit Stone Bath

The walk further up the mountain in the pitch-black night left me freezing, but still incredibility woozy.  When I entered the house I immediately sat on the floor next to the warm bukhari and it wasn’t helping my eyes to stay open.  I couldn’t fight the tranquil strange feeling that had overcome me and I found myself curling up into a fetus position.  I thought I feel so strange. What is happening to me? Did the minerals drug me or I'm I exhausted from the day?  Then Sonam’s aunty brought me a pillow and my heart started to pound a little as I wondered if I was dying from the stone bath.  As the hypnotic feeling continued to cling onto my body, I told myself that if I was dying to stop resisting because this would be a nice way to go and I let the urge to be swept away in darkness slowly take me out of this world.  The last thing that I remembered before I fell into the deepest sleep of my life was squinting at several brown caring Bhutanese faces staring over me like I was a lost, helpless child. 

I don’t know how long I slept for, but I eventually woke up to the sounds of about twenty people speaking Dzongkha and forty eyeballs glancing my way.  Although I still felt tired, I couldn’t bear to have anyone watch me drool any longer and I forced myself to sit up within the circle of people.  We had a huge feast and for once I stayed quiet observing everyone sitting crossed legged and eating with their hands.  They passed around huge bowls of rice, little bowls of a variety of curries, hot water and salty suja tea.  Everyone was chatting and laughing and I was so grateful to be witnessing a Bhutanese family bond.  Once again, the family unity of the Bhutanese culture reminded me of my family get-togethers and I wondered what all my family members were doing on the other side of the world.  However, my heart wouldn’t allow myself to get homesick because there was only enough room for falling in love with Bhutan.

When it was time to go back to Sonam’s mother’s house, eight of us hiked back down the mountain through a wall of darkness.  I don’t know how we all squished into Sonam’s mini car, but it was fun and that’s when I finally started to wake up.  When we went up steep parts of mountains, half of the group had to get out of the car so the car could actually make it up the mountain.  Then the group would walk up to the top and jump back in for the downhill or neutral parts.  I found it to be exciting because I knew that I was having another fun unique experience in Bhutan. 

When we finally got to the house, Sonam and I sat down to watch the tape of the “stone bath surprise.”  As the adventure and misunderstanding started to unravel on film, we rolled around the floor laughing at how perplexed my face was staring at the fire pit thinking that it was the stone bath.  She cried, “This is so hysterical! How could you have kept this from me all day.”  We literally had tears rolling down our cheeks for about twenty minutes and we watched the tape at least five times that night.  Even when we climbed into bed and tried to sleep, I could hear Sonam randomly giggling thinking about it, which would cause me to start giggling on the other side of the room and then we would start the full on laughter all over again.  “No more laughing please…my stomach hurts so bad from laughing” she chuckled.

Through tears and laughter I responded, "You stop laughing first, so that I can stop laughing. Try to stop thinking about it."

"I can’t, it’s too funny…you thought that a fire pit was a stone bath and Dorji, oh my goodness Dorji… haha," Sonam repeated several times.

Finally, before we almost died of laughter, I ended the adventure by saying, "Haha ok seriously Sonam, thanks for the best day, the best Losar, and the best Bhutanese experience of a stone bath and for my new monk friend, Dorji hahaha… You're an awesome friend!"

SLIDESHOW OF THE STONE BATH PROCESS