Sangaygang

Hoping to avoid the crowds of downtown Thimphu for a day, we head up the road behind our apartment into the mountains. Within a few moments, we find a cobbled footpath leading steeply uphill between the walls built around yards of homes along the mountainside. We have decided to go in search of the fabled takin--the national animal of Bhutan—a rather odd looking creature somewhere between a bison and gnu. According to our guidebook, there used to be a sort of mini-zoo up on the mountain that housed various animals including the takin. When the king of Bhutan decided that zoos were not amenable to Bhutan’s environmental and religious beliefs, it was taken down and the animals were released. The takin was so tame, however, that it simply wandered down into Thimphu looking for food. So eventually, the reserve was rebuilt and some takins still happily live there. Most takins apparently live in the higher altitudes of Bhutan, up above the temperate zone.

As we climb through the dwindling homes, we hear shouting. Rounding a corner, we come upon a group of Bhutanese men, dressed in traditional Bhutanese garb (the men wear what is called a gho, a kimono-like robe tied around the waist reaching only to knee length paired with black or argyll knee socks) playing a game of darts. Two groups of men stand about forty yards apart with a target on each side. The darts are thrown overhand and much shouting, dancing, and back-slapping takes place. No women are in evidence and it is clear that this is a boys-only pastime. I discover later that this game is called khuru, and along with archery (datse) it is one of the most popular national sports. Passing gingerly by the dart game, we continue up a winding one-lane road that disappears into the forest. The day is cloudy but moist and warm and we are both soon soaked with sweat. In spite of being at nearly 8000 feet, it is clear that Thimphu is still a Himalayan rainforest. Once in a while a car passes us, children leaning out the window and shouting “Hello!” with great enthusiasm.

At the edge of the takin reserve we stop and peer down through the pines. Almost immediately we spot one takin moving slowly across the pine-needled hillside and another nestled down at the foot of a tree. They seem quite placid, munching who-knows-what, and entirely incurious. They are indeed odd looking, but not so much as I would have thought. We also glimpse a few deer—barking deer as it turns out. Continuing on up the winding road we finally come to the prayer-flag strewn summit of the first hump of the mountain. We’ve been hiking for about an hour and a half and are delighted to get so far outside of Thimphu and to have such a great view of the city from above in so short a time. It’s what I’ve been waiting for—the ability to hike out my back door into the wilderness within a few moments. If this is possible even in the most populated city in Bhutan, I can only imagine what it will be like when we move to central Bhutan in the first week of September where the village we will be living in has a total of about 30 households!

The hill we have climbed is called “Sangaygang,” which I take to mean “Buddha’s Hill.” It is colorfully festooned with row after row of fluttering prayer flags all snapping in the wind. Against the pine trees and dark green mountains, beneath the shifting gray clouds, the prayer flags stream their blessings across the valley. We sit on an iron bench and listen to the silence and the wind. A trail behind us leads across the mountain to a small monastery about two miles away. Apparently the trail loops up and around the mountain forming an additional hike of about three miles. I immediately want to disappear into the hills, but its already past noon and we’ve brought no food and drank most of our water. So, we leave the longer hike into the higher peaks for another day. 

By the time we get back to our apartment, it is clear that even though it has been cloudy all day, we are both burned from the sun. Chris especially looks horribly red and I am surprised by how sore my arms are by the time evening comes. We now give new meaning to the term "red necks." Oops. Apparently, even under cloudy skies we are far more exposed to UV rays at this altitude. For dinner, I prepare our first homemade meal—a stir-fry of fiddleheads and mountain mushrooms over Bhutanese red rice. Yum!