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Beyond Druk, Datsi, Tashi and Sonfy

25 August 2008

For a diminutive speck on the map of the world Bhutan really does have a few bolts from the blue up its sleeve. But then, we saw last week that size does not really matter. The adventure continues and the surprises still abound:

That I have run into so many people from the east, that Thimphu might as well be called ‘Trashigang of the West.’ That it’s probably the only country in the world where an egg costs more than a gin and lime.

That I have taken really well to Sonfy. I know you scoff your nose and shake your head at my down-market tastes, but try the liquor with a hint of lime, a dash of salt, apple juice and some finely diced apples. (I wonder what should I name the cocktail, maybe Druk Orgasm, or maybe Jumolhari Crooner, please post your suggestions) That on the other hand let me make use of polite jargon to say changkey is a ‘cultivated taste.’

That never mind my friends’ ignorant comparisons to water from the dishwasher, suja is a brilliant drink for one of those chilly evenings.

That Bhutanese people speak better Hindi than many in India’s North East. (Even the country’s Foreign Minister can barely manage a spattering).

The funny thing is some of them can even swear more prolifically than me delving into specific terms which I had no idea ever existed. Even little children when they whiz past on the street yell ‘Bhago’ to each other.

That an apple is called an apple in Dzongkha.

That besides the tall wooden gate that demarcates the boundaries of the two countries at Phuntsholing, India and Bhutan are two nations separated by a sewage drain! That unlike most Indians for whom comfort food lies mostly in homemade sambhar rice or mum’s dahl tadka, when on one of those melancholic rainy Thimphu afternoons, I feel a little under the weather I rush to my local street side bar for some norsha pa and jaju along with red rice.

That so effortlessly have I adjusted to the chillies in the local cuisine that the old Tibetan woman is confounded when every morning for breakfast I ask for some ‘ema’ along with my Thukpa.

That I haven’t stumbled across any public rally. In India, these mass functions are gratuitous, and have a great social utility. Analogous to the Keynesian idea of digging trenches and filing them up, the protests serve to keep unemployment at bay by giving youth a sense of action and purpose (it’s better than shooting people on PlayStation screens anyway). It doesn’t matter what you are protesting against — you can protest if it is a rainy day when it should have been clear or you can protest against river flowing west instead of east — those coordinated chants of ‘murdabad, murdabad’ contribute greatly to India’s GNH.

That thankfully, everything that is wrong is not blamed on a ‘foreign hand.’ Such is the magnitude of this blaming game syndrome in India, that sometime ago there were murmurs in the political circles that the ISI was behind the Kashmir earthquake.

That though whether the Bhutanese or the Indians have more sex is a greater debate (maybe I’ll write a piece on that, watch out this space), there are no doubts Bhutanese dogs and bitches are hornier than their South Asian neighbours. From Bern to Bombay, I have never seen so many canines copulate on the streets. To be honest I empathize with their desperation, with all those dog-catchers patrolling the streets with their dreaded nets.

That one of my Bhutanese friends actually has six girlfriends (I told him all he needs now is a PABX line and a telephone operator). That Bhutanese women can be remarkably tolerant of their husbands’ sowing of a few wild oats here and there. It is my humble appeal in the name of gender equality (maybe the new autominous NCWC can also issue a directive) to all Bhutanese husbands to learn from their wives’ generosity and to be inspired to cultivate an equally liberal sense of forgiveness and easy-going attitude to their wives’ transgressions (Well, I know you wouldn’t believe me if I say I have no vested interests).

Arjun Razdan
Freelance Photographer /Writer

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