Cultural Experiences

Visiting Lhakangs:

The first and most prevalent cultural activity engaged in by not only tourists, but also by most Bhutanese, is to visit lhakang[s] (temple/prayer room). For Bhutanese, visiting a lhakang is akin to going on pilgrimage (gnay ‘khor—“going ‘round’ a sacred place), but different in that one might visit a nearby lhakang daily. Multiple activities take place in a single visit. Our drive back from Taktsang allowed us to participate in this activity (not for the first time—we’ve been doing this quite a bit since we arrived in Bhutan—but in such a way that I will describe it so that its different aspects are clearly demarcated).

As we begin the drive back to Thimphu in the late afternoon, Doug, our kind friend who had driven us to Paro, suggests stopping to visit a lhakang that he particularly likes. Although I feel completely exhausted after the long day up in the mountains, it sounds like a good idea. Doug turns off the road shortly after leaving the trailhead to Takstang, taking us up a short driveway to a small temple nestled in a grove of trees. He explains to us that although he doesn’t know the name of the teacher whose lhakang this is, he just “feels good” whenever he visits this place. All he knows is that this teacher had, at one time, been given a Mercedes car that had never been driven and that the car was kept in a type of “shrine” room. I am delighted when we arrive to discover that the lhakang belongs to the Tibetan Buddhist teacher Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche, one of the most beloved and realized Nyingma masters of the twentieth century. 

Khyentse Rinpoche is well known in Bhutan. He spent much of his later years there and was the primary teacher to the current queen mother of Bhutan. When he passed away in 1991 in Bhutan, his body became a principle pilgrimage site until he was cremated in an enormous ceremony in the Paro valley, which many western Buddhist practitioners attended. When I first became interested in Buddhism over twenty years ago, I saw a picture of Khyentse Rinpoche on a friend's shrine and felt an immediate love for him and an intense sense of connection. I was unreasonably saddened to learn that he had passed away and could not stop thinking about him. That very first night after seeing his picture I had a dream.

In the dream, I am sitting against the wall at the foot of a huge bed in which Khyentse Rinpoche is dying. I am devastated and crying. Khyentse Rinpoche gets up out of the bed. As in real life, he is immensely tall (about 6ft. 7 inches), with these very long and beautiful arms. He sits down beside me on the floor and tells me to take hold of his upper arm. I wrap my arm around his and together we float up out of the room into the night sky. The sky is filled with stars and there is a moon. Khyentse Rinpoche lets go of me and together we simply float in the midst of the stars. He says to me, “You see? Its all right.”

That part of the dream dissolves and I find myself swooping like a bird across a huge canyon ridge, not unlike the ridge of the Grand Canyon. At the very lip of the canyon a single empty rocking chair rocks gently back and forth.

The dream dissolves completely and I wake with a sense of peace. I know now that I had this dream about four months before Khyentse Rinpoche was cremated and about ninth months after he passed away. I attribute my love of Buddhism and my sense of the possibilities inherent in genuine practice to the inspiration of this extraordinary teacher.

Although I have visited Shechen Monastery in Kathmandu (Khyentse Rinpoche’s monastery there), I have never, obviously, seen anything related to him in Bhutan. The name of the lhakang at which we have arrived is Satsam Choten. The term choten signifies a type of stupa in which the remains of important teachers are placed after they are cremated. Satsam Choten was the private meditation temple of Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche when he was alive and is now a place of pilgrimage for people to visit his remains entombed in the stupa and to see where he practiced. It is also a place where the young tulku (the new reincarnation of Khyentse Rinpoche) lives at various times. While all of this might seem to be a lot of detail, the fact is that visiting places such as Satsam Choten is a central religious activity of most Bhutanese Buddhists—and in fact, a central religious activity of most Himalayan Buddhists and Buddhist altogether in Central, South, and South-east Asia.

Upon arrival, we make our way into the inner courtyard of the temple. Here, a large bukhari wood stove is kept burning most of the year permitting two large orange trees to thrive in an otherwise inhospitable environment. Indeed, numerous  brilliant oranges dangle from the branches of the two large trees. As we enter the main lhakang room, we remove our shoes, leaving them on the steps outside. No cameras are allowed inside most lhakangs so we leave ours pocketed. The main room houses a huge golden stupa in a type of recessed back room. In front are large statues of Khyentse Rinpoche, Guru Rinpoche, the Zhabdrung (founder of the unified country of Bhutan) and various other Buddhas and important teachers. Following lhakang-visiting protocol, I make three half-prostrations before the main altar and the stupa. I then approach the altar, light a stick of Bhutanese incense (known to be the best incense in the Buddhist world), bow and place the incense in a censor. I say some prayers for the wellbeing, peace, happiness, and good health of all close to me, and again for all beings. Moving clockwise, I circumambulate the main altar and return to the front. Behind me is a high teaching throne with a picture of Khyentse Rinpoche on it. It is clear that at one time, this room served as an audience room or as a space for large group practice. I bow again before leaving the room.

Since most lhakangs consist of more than one room, this one is no exception. However, a curious corridor built of paneled blond wood leads mysteriously back into the depths of the lhakang. Curious, Chris and I follow its twists and turns arriving, finally, in a small room with a low “throne” (meditation seat) set beside a long, low couch. The altar is small, but ornate. There is a picture of the late Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche on the practice table set in front of the “throne.” It is clear from the size and privacy of this small room that this was Khytense Rinpoche’s private meditation room.  Again, its wonderful to have a bit of quiet time alone in this small and comfortable little room before we hear footsteps approaching and a group of four young Bhutanese teenagers come barreling into the room, laughing and joking with each other. They quickly perform their prostrations, bow, and leave, all the while never ceasing to talk loudly and laugh. There is something delightful about the confluence of young people performing traditional Buddhist activities, while all the while still being typical teenagers.

Leaving the lhakang, we begin the obligatory three circuits of the outside of the lhakang. Often, Buddhist pilgrims will simply come and walk clockwise around a sacred building, spinning the prayer wheels built into the wall as they go for at least three circuits, though some pilgrims will walk around and around for long periods of time, reciting mantras, spinning prayer wheels, and saying prayers. The sun is about to set behind the mountains as we finish our three circuits and the high clouds are silver against the dark gray-blue hills. The light is like translucent gold, falling gently over the small lhakang. As Doug said, it just feels good to be here.

Datse (Archery):

Our drive back to Thimphu has not progressed far before we glimpse a huge crowd of Bhutanese gathered inside a small park. Curious, we park the car and walk into the crowd. An archery contest is in full swing and everyone is dressed in their finery, gathered around the shooting range. Archery is Bhutan’s national sport and we have arrived at a semi-finals competition. The tiny targets are placed on the ground about 420 feet apart. It seems impossible that anyone could actually hit such a small target, but arrows are imbedded in the one nearest to us.

Two groups of men, wearing colored panel skirts over their ghos, compete to hit the targets. In Bhutan, there are two classes of competition—one for traditional bamboo bows and another for compound, carbon-fibre bows. The current competition is of the latter class and the men perform dances, sing songs, and yell various insults at each other after each shot.

Off to the side of the range, two groups of women wearing matching kiras dance in circles and sing. As I watch, one group of women breaks the circle. All the women join hands and begin to sing a haunting harmonic melody that wavers over the crowd. The melody is beautiful and I am transfixed by it. Children run and play in the grass. I notice that Chris, Doug, and I are the only westerners in the crowd.

Everyone else is Bhutanese and, or so it appears as we continue to watch and listen, all the important folks are out and about. I see various interactions taking place. A young man bows and speaks reverently to an older gentleman in a matching gho, hat, and socks. Other people also bow as this older gentleman walks past. I like this.

Bhutanese archery is no show put on for curious tourists. It is a central part of Bhutanese life, as vibrant and alive as any Fourth of July parade in the United States. Leaving the archery grounds, I am struck by the confluence of ancient choten, grazing cows, and parked cars—a mix of elements that highlights the complex interplay of tradition, modernity, and religion that is constantly occurring in this high Himalayan country.