Soccer in the Sky

In the center of town there lies a clock tower, enveloped by large, concrete steps on one end and three-story buildings on the other with ample urban space between. In the open air of the breezy afternoon 10 of us kicked around the soccer ball, much to the interest of curious passersby. We were an eclectic bunch, mostly foreigners from a handful of countries with a few Bhutanese. We played monkey in the middle to pass the time as we awaited the final few participants to join. Once amassed, we squeezed ourselves into three taxis, which turned out to be quite an interesting process. Drivers vied for our business, all pointing to different vehicles. We managed, somehow, to get it sorted and within 10 minutes alighted on the outskirts of town. From there we crossed an old wooden bridge covered in prayer flags into a larger complex with a basketball court and several soccer pitches. We had arrived for one purpose: to indulge in the glorious game of soccer—or football for those offended by the misnomer.

The view was breathtaking. All around us were mountains, half in sun half in shade in the late afternoon. Atop one peak sits a Buddha, some 50 meters tall. He placidly looks out into the valley, and on any other day it would settle me, but competition was on the brain. We split ourselves up and proceeded to play the most exhausting game of my life. You see, the Thimphu valley is some 2,350 meters (~7,700 feet) above sea level, and for those unadjusted to the altitude, you quickly tire. There were some among us who were soccer stars up front like Alex and Dylan. I was mediocre at best, but in the end our team won 5-3--mostly due to my roommate Fraser’s acrobatic saves. The whole thing was surreal in a way, though I can be sure it had transpired the day before due to the lingering aches and winded lungs that ail me today.

(View of the soccer fields from the Buddha. We played in the one nearest to the camera)

A New Beginning

Following my typical pre-travel anxiety and its respective rituals, I found myself at Suvarnabhumi International Airport in Bangkok around 3:30 in the morning. Despite the early hour, I was alert. An unstable form of electricity was running through my veins as various emotions battled for control. There I met several teachers at the gate. Holly from B.C.; Judy from Ontario; Sarah, a fellow Washingtonian from Port Angeles; Kirsten from Toronto; Catherine from Australia; and Megan and Dylan, a couple who hail from Durbanville outside of Cape Town. Our conversations weaved through the where’s, how’s, and why’s until it settled on the flight—particularly the precarious landing to be had in Paro.

On the flight we were treated like royalty. I came to learn that Holly, who sat beside me, was moved deeply by Jaime Zeppa’s famous book, Beyond the Earth and Sky, a book I had read and loved last summer, and felt compelled to move to Bhutan. Her wit and good sense of humor made the trip all the more pleasant. Before I knew it, the flight attendant was announcing our descent. I looked out the window to find mountains everywhere. Above them were only a few small clouds speckling a vibrant field of cerulean. As we carved through the valleys houses and monasteries appeared on the sides of the mountains. I suddenly felt giddy. Looking over at Holly, I realized I wasn’t alone in my sentiment. The plane twisted and turned, expertly so, and before I knew it, we had touched down.

After immigration, customs, and luggage claim we were met by Karma, our guide-to-be through orientation. He and our van driver helped load our luggage and we were off en route to our hotel for the next two days. As it turns out, the hotel is the former palace of a previous prime minister and prior to that a monastery. Set atop a large hill, it overlooks the Paro valley and the regional Dzong (fortress/administrative headquarters). The view was just immaculate. The hotel’s façade resembles typical Bhutanese architecture, stone walls painted a pristine shade of white with wooden doorways and detailed frescos, topped by intricate wooden beams of an Asian nature. The room was quaint—akin to a cozy B&B in its quality. In the back was a drawing room with three walls of windows and plenty of natural light. I settled in for a short while and before long we were whisked off to old downtown Paro for lunch. 

Our meal was had at a small restaurant no larger than two rooms. We ate red rice (native to the Himalayas), stir-fried vegetables, noodles, and fried chicken. Simple flavors but delicious nonetheless. Afterward a few of us decided to walk back to the hotel, snapping photos of the crisscrossed streets as we went. Around were countless dogs, some trash, and people going about their daily business. We saw shoe stores and a shop with archery supplies, book stores and restaurants.

Later that evening I went outside to watch the sunset and found Dylan and Megan at the overlook. The sun drooped behind the mountains so there wasn’t much of one to be had so instead we just chatted of South Africa as night took over and the cold set in. Dylan spotted some smoke coming from nearby and we went to investigate, finding the hotel’s restaurant and several Bhutanese huddled around the bukkari stove (a furnace) keeping warm. They kindly let us join though they dispersed not long afterward. A man remained and we spoke to him for a while. He told us of Bhutan’s recent development and some of its history. He even entertained us with a story about old rural outhouses that deposited its “contents” directly into a pig pen where the swine would gleefully eat and wallow in the filth. Gross but efficient.

Not long after a new load of BCFers arrived. I met my roommate, Fraser who hails from just outside of Bristol, England. A well-dressed man slightly younger than I who displays typical British politeness and charm in a Sussex accent. I also met the other recruits: Sebastian, a Danish-born who spent most of his life in Germany with UK citizenship; Dan, an outdoorsy math connoisseur from Vermont; and Becky from Colorado on her 3^rd year in Bhutan. Dinner was had in the hotel restaurant and there I finally got my hands on the infamous national dish, ema datsi, spicy chilies and cheese. I had heard it was frightfully hot, so in the months prior to arriving in Bhutan I worked up an already commendable spicy tolerance to a level that could endure ghost chilies. Fortunately my preparations were successful and I found it utterly delicious despite the spice, though no one seemed to share my enthusiasm. After dinner Sebastian, Holly, Dave, and Becky came to Fraser and my room to play a German card game called wizards until it was time to sleep.

 

 

The next morning we got to visit the Paro Dzong. It was enormous and beautiful. We walked past prayer wheels and monks in maroon robes and visited the inner sanctum. The whole experience was quite surreal. 

 

At lunch we met the third group of BCF recruits. There was Lynn from Tasmania, Adam from Mt. Vernon—the third and final Washingtonian of the group, Alex from New Zealand, and Cat from Michigan. Most everyone of our group thus far seemed to be around my age save Judy, Catheryn, and Lynn who are all in their forties or fifties. Later that evening the last of us came: Nakita from the UK.

On Sunday morning we took a scenic drive around Paro and visited an ancient Dzong which marks the beginning of the path up to Tibet and a temple devoted to Maitreya, the future Buddha. We then drove the hour and a half drive into the capital city, Thimphu.

 

 

 

It was a lot different than I imagined. Small, yes, but still large and bustling with a population of around 100,000 people. It is narrow with only one major street and a number of side roads. The youth there exude an indie vibe, sporting more western clothes and avant-garde hairstyles than the traditionally clad older generation. 

 

 

That night the 20-somethings all congregated and we ate at a pretty cool western place, complete with burgers, pizza, and beer. We laughed quite a lot—it seems we are a rather giggly group and it is easy to tell we are all having a great time so far.

Yesterday we finally got down to business, filling out contracts and visiting the hospital for a final medical evaluation. We let loose that evening after dinner, taking Fraser’s suggestion to heart and stepping into a karaoke bar. There we drank the most popular beer, Druk 11,000, an 8% lager, and locally distilled whiskey. We all had a go at singing. My favorite part of it, however, was listening to the locals sing Bhutanese songs in Dzongkha as well as butchering a few American pop songs.

Today has been more of the same, filling out forms and learning about the Bhutanese curriculum, all with the incessant discomfort of a hangover. I have to say, though, that I have truly enjoyed myself so far and already feel right at home with everyone. It will be bittersweet splitting up once we go to our placements. Fortunately I know Nakita and I will be only a few kilometers away from one another.

A Preface

Monday, January 12th, 2015

I woke up this morning after a difficult and short sleep with a surprising amount of optimism. Today brings new beginnings. Promise. Today makes a new era, where dream chasing begins. Internally, I’m anxious. I just want to be in Bhutan. After all, I’ve milked the anticipation for over 6 months and truly dreamed about for nine. One can only read about a country for so long, you know. I want to see it, smell it, and be a part of it.

First I am taking a short holiday. Since I have to fly through Bangkok anyway, BCF (the Bhutan Canada Foundation) was happy to schedule an earlier flight. Thailand is dirt cheap so since the airline ticket is paid for, the situation practically presents itself. I have visited the Land of Smiles twice before, so this time will not be riddled with hectic plans of things to see and do. My purpose is to relax and decompress. It also allows me the opportunity to adjust to the time difference and perhaps suffer some form of stomach ailment prior to arriving in Bhutan, where ‘Bhutan belly’ is said to hit visitors hard.

During my time back in the states, many people inquired into my motives for moving to the distant land of Bhutan. The answer, in truth, is complex and sometimes fluid, but I will do my best to break it down. First and foremost, Bhutan is a beautiful country. Years ago I came upon a picture of Paro Takstang, otherwise known as Tiger’s Nest Monastery, and was instantly struck by its majesty. The temple, just outside the city of Paro, sits thousands of feet above sea level built into a sheer cliff face. I remember feeling drawn to this image right away, and so I read and read and read about this little-known Buddhist Kingdom nestled at the foot of the Himalayas. I looked into visiting, but the visa was highly restrictive and my dreams were thus buried beneath a mound of practicality.

Sometime later my mind wandered back to this place and I mentioned to my international recruiter that, even though it would be a longshot, I would take a teaching job in Bhutan in a heartbeat. A couple weeks later, while I was living and teaching in Senegal with my brother and sister-in-law, Joy had an English guest come to stay over. She had visited the country back in the 1990’s. With this my conviction grew stronger. It was less than a week later that I saw an advertisement on Dave’s ESL (a prominent international teaching website). My heart aflutter, I applied without a second thought. Such an opportunity however, appeared utterly impractical. The program paid peanuts, which was no good considering all the student debt I had incurred from getting my MAT degree. It also started halfway off the traditional school year. Lastly, no placement was guaranteed without a white-knuckle, four month long waiting period. So why the hell did I say ‘yes’? Simply put: encouragement. My friends told me to forget money and endure the risks, because these opportunities do not arise everyday. My brother Greg, who is my rock, further fed my zeal. He knows me well and knew my heart ached for it.

When I had moved to Senegal, I had just gotten out of a two and a half year relationship. I found defining my purpose and passion in this environment particularly difficult because not so long prior to that, ‘I’ had become ‘we’ in so many facets of my life. Deciding to teach in Bhutan was the first major decision I made since then that spoke uniquely to my heart. The country’s deeply spiritual culture, respect for nature, and generally quiet and happy way of life seem to echo all the things that I hold dear. Simplistic living and spicy food were, of course, added perks. In short, it just felt right. So for all those reasons, that is why I am on this journey. 

 January 22nd, 2015

I am sitting here in my Bangkok hostel, counting down the hours before I depart for the airport. Come early tomorrow, I shall touch down in Paro and face my fears as the airplane rattles incessantly, navigating through mountains at a stomach-churning altitude. There is only one functioning airport in Bhutan, and from everything I have heard, the trip is a bit scary. But I shall be transported by some of the most qualified pilots in the world for this job, and while I cannot say I am excited for the flight--considering it is the last hurdle between me and life in Bhutan--it is a risk I am willing to endure. The good news is I won't be alone. A third of the BCFers will be on the plane flight, which should give us plenty of time to get a head start on getting to know one another. Until next time!