The Golden Buddha

More paperwork—forms to be filled out, fees to be paid, medical certificates to be completed. The process for getting a long-term visa in Bhutan isn’t quick or easy and I am very grateful that ILCS (The Institute of Language and Cultural Studies) has provided us with a facilitator. Otherwise, figuring out even which line to stand in would be complicated and very time consuming.

Chris and I wait at the Ambient Café, a western-style coffee house in downtown Thimphu with an excellent choice in music and great coffee (does every modern Asian city have at least one of these kinds of places, catering to the notion that even though the foreigner—me, in this case—has left home and come to a different culture, he or she cannot possible manage without decent coffee, cakes, and Wifi?) while Singye, our administrative assistant from ILCS, attempts to finally process our visas. We drink coffee (well, why not?) and read the local newspapers. When Singye returns, he informs us that since we do not have the same last name, the powers that be do not believe we are married and we may have to produce a marriage certificate in order for my visa to be processed. I will also need to get a medical certificate, a process we have just gone through the previous day for Chris at the local hospital which involves standing in line (a quite misleading concept in that although it looks like there’s actually a line, the fact is that most people know someone who is in line further up and, upon discovering that they have a pressing need to speak to that person, find a way to insert themselves into the queue so that it appears to anyone who is actually waiting in line that the line simply gets longer at the front), paying fees and filling out a form, and then being sent to another line for an “examination” during which the doctor merely takes one’s blood pressure and signs the form. We have, we think, just enough time to hike to the Golden Buddha and back before the “after-hours” medical certificate process begins again.

We strike along a southern route hoping to stumble across the winding road that leads up to what is locally known as “Buddha Viewpoint.” We’ve been able to see this site from other areas in Thimphu and most especially from Sangaygang—a huge golden Buddha seated high up on the side of the mountain looking out over the Thimphu valley, not unlike the Old Man in the Mountain (whose face fell off not so long ago), who used to look out over the Franconia valley in northern New Hampshire. This Buddha, the Buddha Dordenma (short for Buddha Dorje Den—or, in English—Buddha Indestructible Seat), is predicted to be the eighth wonder of the world. Seated, he is over 150 feet high. When we find the road, after a bit of help from local passersby, we keep catching glimpses of the Buddha as we round switchback after switchback.

As we climb, white sheets of rain are visible slowly descending down through valleys around us, and finally we ourselves are engulfed.At about halfway up the ridge, a small black dog rises at our approach and comes wagging her tail over to greet us. I am, at first, extremely wary of her as my sister was bitten by a dog in the short time she was in Bhutan and most dogs we have encountered have been less than friendly. But she keeps a little distance from us, simply wagging her tail and looking at us. As we continue hiking, she trots along ahead of us, looking back from time to time to see if we are still following. A book we have on trekking in Bhutan informs us that if a dog follows your trek the entire way, he or she is thought to be the spirit of a deceased trekker. But our doggie companion precedes us, and seems to me more like a protective guide than a wandering spirit. At any rate, as we ascend, different parts of the Buddha emerge through the falling rain.

 When we finally turn the last corner, I am amazed at just how huge and impressive Buddha Dordenma is. He seems to radiate a calm, golden peacefulness even in the midst of the construction surrounding him. (While the Buddha’s body and lotus seat are completed, the temple over which he sits is still under construction). I stand for a long time in the rain watching how the shifting light from clouds skirting back and forth across the sun causes various parts of the Buddha’s body to gleam in the sunlight—now a forearm, now a shoulder, now the upturned sole of the Buddha’s foot. He’s marvelously beautiful and a master work of art. He seems like a living presence looking out over the Thimphu valley. I don’t want to leave.

Finally, however, the practicalities of getting the medical certificate induce us to begin the descent. Now the rain is waning and there are periods of sun and rain combined, a mix that Bhutanese consider auspicious. There is even a name for this kind of phenomena—the metok-chharp or “blossom rain.” And indeed, a rainbow “blossoms” over the valley and the Buddha’s smooth back shines golden through raindrops in the afternoon sunlight. Our doggie companion, who accompanied us just to the edge of the main Buddha site, jumps up as we re-emerge, and again precedes us back down the road until we arrive at the same place we picked her up to begin with, at which point she lies down, pink tongue hanging out, her brown eyes following us as we continue on down the road.

Arriving back in the valley, I feel equipped to deal with the hospital lines for another day. (PS: For anyone who is actually reading this, if you wish to see other photos, I have added photos into previous posts.)