Jakar, Bumthang, Bhutan
November 6, 2012
Altitude: 9,058'
It was the morning of the US Presidential election and there was a knock on my door. It was 7:15 a.m. and 61 degrees in my room and I didn't want to crawl out from under my warm down comforter.
We were high in the Bumthang Valley of Bhutan. The fire that had burned so warmly the night before in the room's fireplace had dwindled to ashes.
I shivered as I opened the door to find Yeshey, my guide and driver. "Good morning , Sir. Today is an auspicious Buddha day. There is a new temple opening today and there will be dances and ceremonies for two days. Would like to do that instead of what we planned?"
Auspicious indeed, I thought. Auspicious for the Buddha. Auspicious for me and auspicious, too, I hoped for President Obama.
"Of course, Yesehy." I always grab at opportunities like this.
Two hours later we arrived at the temple, in Chumey Valley about 30 minutes from Jakar. Hundreds of local people were there. I found a seat and joined the multitudes as the dances began.
This was the Ling Gyser Festival with dances and music that traced its routes to Tibet more than 400 years ago. All the Bhutanese knew the story of the warrior-king, Ling Gyser--that would unfold as its part of the cultural folklore. I, on the other hand, would need a guide through the entire performance.
It was a day of brilliant deep blue and clean, clear sky. The sun blazed hot and I was go have on sunglasses as well as a cap.
Emerging first from the temple were the four protective deities of Bhutan, each represented as warriors and dressed in elaborate costumes. Each deity has a specific purpose. Chenmizan, from the west, guards Bhutan against demons and earthly treats. Yulkhorsun, from the east, represents harmony--the Buddhist concept of the middle path. Namthose, from the north, provides wealth and prosperity. And finally, Phagchepo, from the south, guards against enemies.
They seated themselves at the four corners of the staging area while the Buddha emerged from the temple. He was followed by the second Buddha and his two consorts. Their presence would be felt for all witnessing this pageant.
The story that unfolded for the next six hours retold the story of the three Tibetan invasions in 1644, 1648 and 1649. Had I not had Yesehy and others around me to explain what I was seeing, it would all have been just a colorful spectacle.
To purify the ceremony, a large urn was placed in the center of the square. The urn was filled with pine boughs and incense. With great ceremony, one of the warriors lit the pine boughs. Billowy white fragrant smoke filled the air, scattering any demons who might be present.
The urn was removed, a "target" was placed where the urn had been. The Bhutanese national sport is archery, and its origins date back centuries, and the target would hold supreme importance during this reenaction.
First to enter were then warriors--lavishly dressed in long brocade robes, ornate helmets and multi-colored boots. Each warrior was outfitted with a bow and arrow. The dance was a slow, methodical circle dance with each warrior mimicking the shooting of their arrow. After about ten minutes, they formed a line. Each warrior approached the target and pierced it with his arrow. Finally, in the end, the warrior representing the king did the same--thus "defeating" the 1st Tibetan invasion.
Following this was a slow but joyous dance of Thanksgiving. Twenty dancers--male and female--carried banners of red, yellow, green, white and blue. Their dance reflected the joy in this first Tibetan defeat of 1644.
This marked the end of the first part of the pageant. For more than two hours I'd sat cross-legged watching this magnificent performance. But it was noon and time for lunch. Yeshey had arranged with the hotel to pack a hot picnic for us. There was roast pork, potatoes, rice, vegetables and tea. We found ourselves a place near the river and enjoyed this special meal. A friend of his was there--a young man from the area who was studying in Calcutta--and I asked him to join us. He was able to explain more of what I had seen and would see in the afternoon. I commented to both of them that the landscape we were were looking at--lofty pines, high mountains and blue, blue sky reminded me of the Sierras of Northern California.
The vast majority of people present had brought lunch, fully planning to spend the day. The monks of the temple, on the other hand, had prepared a simple meal that was given freely to many local people who'd come empty handed.
When I got back to the square, it was still early. I found a seat dead-center to the show, my back against a stupa. I was early, but I was curious about a long, snaking line of people to my right. I stood up, walked to the front of it, and noticed that each person approached the man responsible for constructing the temple. According to local belief he was the reincarnation of a Tibetan monk who'd come to Bhutan in the 8th century. Each person bowed, made a financial offering and received a blessing. The line never seemed to end.
November 6, 2012
Altitude: 9,058'
It was the morning of the US Presidential election and there was a knock on my door. It was 7:15 a.m. and 61 degrees in my room and I didn't want to crawl out from under my warm down comforter.
We were high in the Bumthang Valley of Bhutan. The fire that had burned so warmly the night before in the room's fireplace had dwindled to ashes.
I shivered as I opened the door to find Yeshey, my guide and driver. "Good morning , Sir. Today is an auspicious Buddha day. There is a new temple opening today and there will be dances and ceremonies for two days. Would like to do that instead of what we planned?"
Auspicious indeed, I thought. Auspicious for the Buddha. Auspicious for me and auspicious, too, I hoped for President Obama.
"Of course, Yesehy." I always grab at opportunities like this.
Two hours later we arrived at the temple, in Chumey Valley about 30 minutes from Jakar. Hundreds of local people were there. I found a seat and joined the multitudes as the dances began.
It was a day of brilliant deep blue and clean, clear sky. The sun blazed hot and I was go have on sunglasses as well as a cap.
Emerging first from the temple were the four protective deities of Bhutan, each represented as warriors and dressed in elaborate costumes. Each deity has a specific purpose. Chenmizan, from the west, guards Bhutan against demons and earthly treats. Yulkhorsun, from the east, represents harmony--the Buddhist concept of the middle path. Namthose, from the north, provides wealth and prosperity. And finally, Phagchepo, from the south, guards against enemies.
They seated themselves at the four corners of the staging area while the Buddha emerged from the temple. He was followed by the second Buddha and his two consorts. Their presence would be felt for all witnessing this pageant.
The story that unfolded for the next six hours retold the story of the three Tibetan invasions in 1644, 1648 and 1649. Had I not had Yesehy and others around me to explain what I was seeing, it would all have been just a colorful spectacle.
To purify the ceremony, a large urn was placed in the center of the square. The urn was filled with pine boughs and incense. With great ceremony, one of the warriors lit the pine boughs. Billowy white fragrant smoke filled the air, scattering any demons who might be present.
The urn was removed, a "target" was placed where the urn had been. The Bhutanese national sport is archery, and its origins date back centuries, and the target would hold supreme importance during this reenaction.
First to enter were then warriors--lavishly dressed in long brocade robes, ornate helmets and multi-colored boots. Each warrior was outfitted with a bow and arrow. The dance was a slow, methodical circle dance with each warrior mimicking the shooting of their arrow. After about ten minutes, they formed a line. Each warrior approached the target and pierced it with his arrow. Finally, in the end, the warrior representing the king did the same--thus "defeating" the 1st Tibetan invasion.
Following this was a slow but joyous dance of Thanksgiving. Twenty dancers--male and female--carried banners of red, yellow, green, white and blue. Their dance reflected the joy in this first Tibetan defeat of 1644.
This marked the end of the first part of the pageant. For more than two hours I'd sat cross-legged watching this magnificent performance. But it was noon and time for lunch. Yeshey had arranged with the hotel to pack a hot picnic for us. There was roast pork, potatoes, rice, vegetables and tea. We found ourselves a place near the river and enjoyed this special meal. A friend of his was there--a young man from the area who was studying in Calcutta--and I asked him to join us. He was able to explain more of what I had seen and would see in the afternoon. I commented to both of them that the landscape we were were looking at--lofty pines, high mountains and blue, blue sky reminded me of the Sierras of Northern California.
The vast majority of people present had brought lunch, fully planning to spend the day. The monks of the temple, on the other hand, had prepared a simple meal that was given freely to many local people who'd come empty handed.
When I got back to the square, it was still early. I found a seat dead-center to the show, my back against a stupa. I was early, but I was curious about a long, snaking line of people to my right. I stood up, walked to the front of it, and noticed that each person approached the man responsible for constructing the temple. According to local belief he was the reincarnation of a Tibetan monk who'd come to Bhutan in the 8th century. Each person bowed, made a financial offering and received a blessing. The line never seemed to end.
At the end of the third dance, each warrior furled his banner, wrapping the flag around the spear, symbolizing victory over the 1649 invasion.
The most dramatic dance followed. The "target," which had been present throughout all the dances, represented the enemy.
At this point, two monks approached the "target" and attached two white scarves--a representation of peace among Tibetans. A third monk then poured kerosene on it. The two previous monks returned with burning torches, lit the target, thus representing the final subjugation of the enemy.
I was almost let down by the time this glorious pageant had ended. I also noticed that I was the only Westerner present. The small group of other tourists had left at lunch. We lingered a bit and I was able to get photos of the beautiful chlidren who'd sat near me.
This was the first of the two day inauguration of the new temple. The next day would be day of dedication, blessing the temple, the monks, and the people who participated. For me, day one would have to suffice.Yeshey and I set back to Jakar. I had a thousand questions and peppered him all the way back to town.
Poor man. I really think he got flustered. All the who's, the what's and the why's were too overwhelming. He did his best, but shortly after getting back to the hotel he handed me a book--a compendium of sort--a kind of ""Bhutanese Buddhism for the Idiot." It helped a lot.
Later, at dinner, I was the only guest. The chef's wife sat with me and gently walked me through my many questions.
"You were a fortunate man," she told me. "I was a guide for many years and I have never seen this festival. In fact, this is the first time it was performed in Bhutan, thus explaining why the prime minister of the country had been present.
By the time I got to bed, polling booths in the USA were just opening. I wouldn't know until the next day that Barrack Obama had been elected.
I could not have planned on a day like this. It had been an auspicious day--auspicious for the Buddha, auspicious for our President, and very auspicious for me.
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