Ancient Stories

Lama Drukpa Kunley

“So,” the young monk whispers to us, “the beggar asked the monk to show him the thangka. When the thangka was unrolled, the beggar pulled up his tattered robes and proceeded to pee all over it.” The monk smiles at us, watching closely to be sure that we are listening. “The monk was horrified and told the old beggar he was a disgrace. He took the thangka and hurried off with it to his teacher. But when he unrolled it, all the places upon which the beggar had urinated had turned to pure gold.”

            Outside the tiny lhakang in which we are huddled around our storytelling monk, I can hear the head Khenpo’s voice rising and falling as he lectures to the group of about fifty monks seated on the main lhakang floor in front of him.

            Our monk gestures up to the large golden statue of Sakyamuni Buddha looming over us, “Inside this statue is that thangka. And the beggar who peed on it was Drukpa Kunley (see photo above).”

            I regard the statue in a new light. Not only, apparently, does the statue house the “blessed” thangka, but also it contains numerous other sacred relics from the time of Drukpa Kunley, the fifteenth-century yogi who is the subject of my dissertation and the main reason why I have come to Bhutan in the first place. As a result, this particular statue is said to be a “wish-fulfilling jewel” and to make an offering to it or to be blessed by the holy water kept in front of it is said to purify all one’s evil deeds and allow one to fulfill all one’s aspirations. Since one of my primary aspirations is to write a dissertation that helps illuminate Drukpa Kunley’s unique vision of what it means to be an “enlightened” or moral human being, as well as to elucidate how his own writing about himself demonstrates this particular vision of enlightenment, I am quite willing to be blessed many times over by the famous statue.

However, not only the statue, but the entire monastery of Tango Goemba as well has strong associations with Drukpa Kunley. The original building (see main photo on blog front page) was built by Drukpa Kunley in the fifteenth century. It is a masterful work of architecture with a curving front wall unlike anything I’ve seen so far on other monasteries. In addition, Tango Goemba is famous as being the most prestigious center of Buddhist learning in Bhutan; almost every Je Khenpo (religious head of Bhutan) completes the 9-year program there (much like getting a PhD in Buddhist Studies). After completing that program, the monks traditionally spend three years, three months and three days in meditation at nearby Cheri Goemba retreat center, built in 1619 by Shabdrung Ngawang Namgyal, the founder or first unifier of Bhutan.

Our trip to visit both Tango and Cheri begins at 6:30 in the morning when our friend Sonam arrives to pick us up. We drive north of Thimphu, following the churning Wang Chuu river with the chill early morning air blowing through the open windows. Sonam’s adorable baby girl, Pema, sleeps peacefully on her aunt’s shoulder. As we arrive at the trailhead, the sun is just peaking down over the high ridges and the light is a gorgeous translucent gold. The hike is short and the cool morning air makes it even more pleasant. 

Sonam and Pema

Right before we arrive at Tango Goemba, we pass a small stupa that marks the boundary beyond which the monks cannot pass for the month of the “rainy season retreat,” when they must remain within the monastery boundaries. Since we are arriving in the middle of the rainy season retreat, this boundary is in effect. 

Stupa outside Tango Goemba

As we round the corner after the stupa, I can see the curved slope of the main white washed monastery wall, punctuated by ornately carved windows. Viewed against the vivid blue sky, the monastery glows with a kind of inner light. Drukpa Kunley certainly had a vivid sense of architectural presence! 

Tango Goemba

Entering the front gate, I see masses of shoes lined up in front of one of the main lhakangs—clearly the monks are studying, and as we progress through the buildings, guided by one monk who is kind enough to take us through and explain what we are seeing, it is clear that almost every main room is also a classroom and the monks are engaged in studying various texts and topics of the Buddhist tradition. 

Shoes outside Lhakang

Since our pilgrimage involves entering most of the main monastery rooms, we walk a fine line between performing the traditional pilgrim activities and not disturbing the studies of the monks. Our monk guide leads us up the intimidatingly steep wooden ladders that extend from floor to floor of the goemba to a small room on the top floor. A small group of monks sit together in middle of the floor reading a text. One of them rises and brings a long staff to the doorway. I learn that this staff is said to be the walking stick of the fourth Desi, Gyalse Tenzin Rabgye, the fourth ruler of Bhutan, and receiving a blessing from it brings good luck also. After visiting this small room, we decide to depart. The monks are rushing about in preparation for the impending visit of three of Bhutan’s important ministers who will provide lunch for the monastic body. This is another common way that Buddhists make offerings—by sponsoring a lunch or tea for the monastic body, especially when they are in retreat, as they currently are for the rainy season. Having such important donors requires elaborate preparations on the part of the monks, who wish to also honor their patrons. Realizing that our presence slightly complicates their preparations, we decide to move on to our next destination, Cheri Goemba, the meditation retreat center founded by the Zhabdrung on his descent into Bhutan from Tibet in the sixteenth century.

Cheri Goemba perched on the Ridge

At the base of the trail to Cheri, a construction project of a religious nature is ongoing. As we sit in the shade to have a cup of tea and munch a biscuit, we are passed by groups of Bhutanese teenagers who have come to the site volunteering their labor to help built a large stupa. When we cross over the river, we also pass numbers of these workers carrying stones and other materials on their shoulders. Nearby the stupa-to-be, craftspeople are at work on a giant stone carving of Guru Rinpoche. 

Stone Carving of Guru Rinpoche

Climbing up to Cheri proves far more arduous than our hike to Tango, possibly due to the fact that the sun is now high overhead and the heat is rising steadily. On the trail we meet up with an Indian woman from Bangladesh and her son. She cheerfully informs us that this is their second day in Bhutan and that she has already asked her guide how she can purchase land here. He has explained to her that she would need to be married to a Bhutanese man. She says that’s fine by her! Just show her one who is willing. It’s a humorous moment that clearly demonstrates most tourists immediate reaction to the beauty and charm Bhutan radiates so easily.

Cheri Goemba

View from Courtyard in Cheri Goemba

Arriving at Cheri, I am grateful that the small group of Chinese tourists gathered at the top of the stone stairway to the retreat center are heading down, especially when they begin shouting loudly to each other across the otherwise silent and peaceful mountain side. Once they have disappeared back down the trail, silence again claims the site, leaving only the whisper of wind in the huge cypress trees lining one side of the trail, and the slow ring of a huge bell hanging under the monastery’s eaves. 

Bell Under the Eaves

After visiting the main lhakang, we climb the hundred and eight steep stone steps (108 is a sacred number in Buddhism—actually there are 147 steps) leading to the upper goemba built around the cave where the Zhabdrung stayed in retreat and where his father’s ashes are enshrined. As we climb, we pass groups of monks carrying Buddhist texts wrapped in the standard red and yellow clothes. 

The Path of 108 Steps

Arriving at the Top

Inside the lhakang, groups of monks unwrap the huge texts and I am sorely tempted to try reading over their shoulders! Baby Pema crawls happily about on the smooth wood-paneled floor as two monks attempt to explain to me in Tibetan the nature of the small cave inside of which a statue of the Zhabdrung sits serenely. Heading back down the trail, we discuss where to go for our picnic. Weekend picnics are the most popular activity, second only to visiting sacred Buddhist sites—usually the two activities dovetail perfectly, as we soon discover when we find a lovely spot next to the river beside a small choten. We feast on spiced homemade noodles (a Bumthang specialty prepared by Sonam’s sister, Sangye Zam), peppers and egg, curried veggies, rice, and biscuits together with slightly sweetened milk tea.

Picnic by the Wang Chuu

Our final stop on our way back down the valley is at the Dechenphu Lhakang. Dechenphu is the home of the Thimphu valley protector deity, Gyenyen, and as such it is the site for any Bhutanese to visit before traveling outside of Bhutan or before engaging in any kind of activity that might be considered risky. Foreigners are generally not allowed to visit or enter the buildings of any protector shrines. I am not exactly sure why this is the case, but I think it has something to do with the unique nature of the relationship between the protector deities and the local populations. This relationship is ancient and results from the taming of local spirits and their conversion into Buddhist “protectors” (protectors of the faith), by Buddhist saints such as Zhabdrung Ngawang Namgyal. I have always been fascinated by this particular phenomenon but have yet to see a thorough study of it that explores both its etic and emic dimensions.

Dechenphu is situated at the far end of a forested valley. The pine trees blanketing the long sloping hillsides create an atmosphere of quiet darkness. The lhakang itself is painted red and is surrounded by carefully tended gardens. Its one of the most lovely spots we’ve visited. 

Dechenphu

Contrary to the normal rules, we enter the three-story main building with Sonam. Inside it is completely dark. Not a single butter lamp or candle burns to illuminate the thick blackness. From the light that filters in through the entrance, I can dimly make out the shapes of various weapons—spears, muskets, shields, and swords hang ominously overhead. As I climb the steep and slippery wooden ladders to the second and third floors, there is a palpable sense of a presence. It is not threatening but it is immensely powerful. On the third floor we enter the main lhakang. Before I can catch a glimpse of the shrine, a monk rushes over to inform Sonam that foreigners are not allowed here. He is quite kind about it, but firm. I hand him the bottle of liquor I have brought to offer for my sister’s health and quickly perform three prostrations. Scrambling down the ladders in the dark, I feel a sense of urgency. I do not wish to offend either local sensibilities or the deity himself! Chris and I content ourselves with circumambulating the lhakang in the growing darkness while we wait for Sonam and her sister to finish making their offerings. Later, we learn from another monk that had we been wearing traditional Bhutanese dress (gho and kira), we would have been allowed to remain inside. But I’m not so sure about this. In any event, I am glad to have been able to visit. Our drive home is sprinkled by the coming evening rain and we arrive back at our apartment exhausted but happy to have been able to visit these places.