Weekend Vignette #3: Hoofin' It

After one and a half days on the road from Thimphu against the elements and deteriorating road conditions (thanks to the summer rains) it had been a long ride. I was elated to arrive at the Mongar bus station, though somewhat sad to see my break behind me. I waited as the bus driver and a few helpers unloaded dozens of boxes and bags from the roof of the bus, kept safe along the ride by a large blue tarp and endless rope.

Yet ahead of me was quite a walk. Roughly a mile from the station to my house with a steep incline the entire way. My bags upon my back, I felt lugged down but adrenaline aided in my journey. I followed the road for some time under the harsh midday sun, already starting to sweat, until I came upon a narrow path used as a shortcut into town. This shortcut didn’t come without consequence; it was virtually straight up—nearly to the point of climbing on all fours, hugging a rocky cliff on one side and a messy slope of weeds and other prickly plants to my left. I forged on knowing within the hour I’d be back home.

As I began up the slope I saw an older woman and her granddaughter ahead of me. They walked dreadfully slow, as most Bhutanese do, and eventually slowed to a stop. Passing was simply impossible so I waited and tried to see what lay in front of their path to no avail. The woman then reached to her left and broke off a branch from a bush and just then I could see what blocked their path: a small herd of cattle. The women without fear of retribution whipped at the cows until they started to turn back up the path and the two squeezed by. After they escaped the cows turned back to their original direction and lazily strolled down the path, chewing on plants on their way.

Greeeeeaaaaat, I thought. A man, a villager no doubt by his weathered clothes and ample wrinkles, came down and whipped at the cows, pushing them ever forward. He must be the herder, I thought. I decided to wait until they had passed and tucked myself into a small rocky nook carved into the cliff. Once they started to move he returned back up the hill and left from sight.

A couple cows passed me then the group came to a complete halt. I was trapped between horn and hoof. I looked around but no one was in sight—just the harsh sun upon my head and the ever-present ache of my shoulders taking on ample weight. “HEYYYY,” I shouted. No response. “I’m not a freaking cow herder! Help me!” I couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of this bovine buffoonery (making contextually relevant puns like "mooooooo-ve", of course) but until I came upon some exit strategy I’d be stuck here. I decided to continue making a ruckus for a couple minutes until finally the old man came down, laughing heartily at my misfortune and set them upon due course with ease. I thanked the man and continued home, laughing about the whole thing.

To show these wonderful creatures I harbor no ill will, here's all the photos of cows I have taken this year ;)