A farewell to Thimphu, and all of Bhutan

I wasn’t going to write a farewell post for Bhutan. Goodbyes have never been my thing.

But after five months living with Cara and working for Drukpa, I found that the words couldn’t help but come out.

The magazine fell apart and the Ministry of Information and Media expressed a refusal to continue extending my work permit. I wish I could have stayed longer. And still, I don’t know how to express my appreciation for the time I was able to spend in the tiny Himalayan kingdom. I’ve travelled some 25 countries on five continents and there is just no place like Bhutan.

To call it a “developing country” is a characterization I simply find inaccurate. Economic measurements may rank Bhutan low in terms of GDP and international trade. And admittedly, the friends I made in Bhutan were of Thimphu’s upper class. But after nearly half a year there, I cannot pool a country with people as friendly, generous, and above all, as happy, with so many impoverished and war-torn nations across the world.

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Photos of the rain in Thimphu

Things have been pretty slow around the office lately. The magazine is really struggling financially. For two months now, an unresolved debt owed to our printing press has prevented us from putting out an issue. Subscribers are beginning to call, et cetera. So there really hasn’t been a lot of work to do.

Most of us still come in every day. But we just hang out, more than anything else.

So yesterday, when Bhutan’s daily spring rains came, I thought I would take a break from a music download binge and go and try my hand at photographing water.

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Spring is on its way and dinner with the guys

Spring is on its way to Thimphu. All over the city, pink flowers are sprouting to break the million shades of brown that dull Bhutan for the winter.

That being the case (rebirth, new beginnings, and all of that) and seeing as the magazine has been stuck in a bit of a financial rough patch, our editor-in-chief decided that it was time for a little party.

All the guys were called in, food was collected, and vodka was brought forth. Huddled around a heater in the small room that plays home to the editorial department, we spent the evening making light of the situation and brainstorming ways the magazine might actually make some money.

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Photos of daily life in Thimphu

Life continues in Thimphu. I work at the magazine Monday to Thursday. And starting this week, I’ll begin volunteering Fridays at the school that Cara works for, the Early Learning Centre. I think I’ll be spending just a few hours a week there, helping the school update its website.

Earlier this month, my first day at the magazine, Drukpa, was a little stressful.

I thought it made sense to start in on the website by installing a simple but long-overdue update on the site’s back end. But I lost my internet connection halfway through the update’s installation. When I was able to get back online, the website was gone. And I mean really, completely gone. I couldn’t even access the back end’s admin panel. It was like the site never existed. So there I was, thinking that on my very first day, I was going to have to tell this young publication’s staff that I completely wiped out their website.

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A routine grows in Thimphu


There’s a few rowdy kids that hang out around the magazine’s office.

I’ve fallen in with a good group of guys here. Journalists and editors for the monthly magazine, Drukpa, that I’m working with. Writers who are young and hungry. They’re a lot of fun.

My day begins at 8:00 a.m. That’s when Cara’s alarm goes off and from which point I have to spend the next hour awake in bed, listening to her hit the snooze button again and again. Between 9:00 and 9:30 a.m., I drag myself out of bed, have a cup of Nescafe coffee, make an egg sandwich, and take a shower (an unpleasant necessity that requires me to sit cross-legged in a small bathtub and drip a pitiful stream of lukewarm water over my head).

Then it’s off to work. The magazine’s office is about a 20-minute walk from Cara’s place. I’ve usually got my iPod on, its all downhill, and the weather’s been nice lately, so I don’t mind it.

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Nescafe in Thimphu

Back in Thimphu. Happily sipping bitter Nescafe coffee, freezing any time I step out of the sunlight for more than three seconds, and showering with barely enough water pressure to rinse the hair of a monk.

I had all but given up on returning to Bhutan. But here I am, working on my laptop with a very pleasant view of the Himalaya Mountains outside my window.

The flight into Paro is worth mentioning. It was a truly breathtaking experience. We passed Mount Everest just as the sun rose above the mountains opposite the world’s tallest peak. For several minutes, this gave me a perfect view, which was stunning in the morning’s crystal-clear sky. Then, as the small airplane prepared to land, we banked sharply to the left and descended to an altitude lower than many of the surrounding mountain peaks. Finally, when it seemed as if the airplane was practically brushing the rocky terrain so close below, a clearing emerged. And with barely any further descent, the plane’s wheels were on the ground in Paro.

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