Finally out of Bangkok

I refused to write one word stating that I was on my way back to Bhutan until I was actually there.

For a while, it looked as if the story of my return would have to be about a night’s stay in a cell in Paro. With a visa far from ensured and hundreds of dollars tied up in a prepaid flight, I was considering attempting to return to Bhutan without permission, and work the rest out from there. If I was allowed to board the plane, I figured I could cross my fingers for a congenial escort to the Indian border.

Thankfully, I have a much less interesting tale to tell.

After nearly three weeks spent anxiously awaiting news in Bangkok, I was granted a work visa and permission to reenter Bhutan.

The magazine I’ll be working with came through on the paperwork, and much appreciation goes to those staff who helped out. Cara also deserves a huge thanks for an absolutely-Herculean, eleventh-hour effort that finally saw everything pushed through (literally just hours before my flight’s departure). The sheer number of bureaucratic hurdles that Cara overcame is a testament to both the Bhutanese government’s mind-blowing capacity for red tape, and its civil servants’ equally-remarkable ability and willingness to work through such bureaucratic labyrinths, and ensure that those who ask for help receive it.

I didn’t do much with my time in Bangkok. I suppose I could have done a better job making the best of a bad situation. But it just never happened.

I do enjoy Bangkok’s energy. There really are few cities in the world that run on such pure enthusiasm. But I wasn’t in the mood. I’m sure our paths will across again, one day.