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)