DRUKYAL

The Land of the Thunder Dragon- The Land of the Peaceful Dragon- Drukyal is the Kingdom of Bhutan. These names indicate how foreign this place feels- breathes- touches my senses. I not only look and see- smell and inhale. The land feels back. This can be said about my time in India, my association with that land. What a different feeling- rough and beautiful, sweet and rancid, energized and completely barren... this changes all the time, and you become fascinated with the unpredictable.
Bhutan, however, is that soothing hand you eagerly take once you realize just how tired you are. I do not feel separated- a function of mountains and land. No matter where you find yourself, earth and stone welcome you home. It's a comfort in beauty I seek- and what's beautiful, what's "Quality"- that is what defines me, that choice- I agree with Robert Pirsig. And mountain air and alpine scenery... that's quality.
These hills colored tan and green by grass and tree. The air is cool and crisp- temperature affects a body in interesting ways. The heat makes you sweat- expel- shed. You feel burdened, overwhelmed and suffocated. Necessary sometimes, but right now I look forward to its opposite. The cool brings it in- introspective, tight and drawn in. You need inner fuel- the warmth of yourself- hands in pockets, a hunched pose of meek confidence.
Houses dot these hills- strong and purely Bhutanese. Blocks and squares painted white and colored by traditional designs- pagoda like but not Japanese- clean but surprisingly fitting to their natural placements. Deities and spirits, animals and gods adorn every side- protecting and inviting the inhabitants and guests. The buildings are exceptional- the outline is simple and detail is incredible- deep reds, purples and blues- highlighted by splashes of yellow, orange, green and white. The colors place these structures back into the earth from which they came- at home between mountain and tree, soil and sky.
Similarly, one feels equally at home within these elements. Along the road from Phuentsholing to Thimpu, this country begins to reveal the secrets that every set of foreign eyes finds so intriguing. Lowland broadleaves and creeping vines give way to hearty rhododendrons and deep green pine trees. The air clears as the Indian skies blend with and give way to its royal neighbor- mountains filtering out the heavy and unpleasant. Nature's sieve. As you rise, the pines gain strength and size- adapting to the rich life of alpine scenery. Coulds gather and the air becomes saturated with a deep, comforting moisture only available in mountains heights. Thick, heavy breaths feel like cleansing cycles of natural medicine. As I climb, the mists begin to take shape. Clear moisture condenses to a white vapor by changes in temperature- hot to cold- transformation- form demanded by mountain cold. This is the scientific explanation. Change of state. What I see is different- more connected to land and culture- the mystery of this place expressed by mist.
The breath of dragons- real and alive. Exhales from hot, wet mouths condensing as it reaches the dipping mercury. Small wisps here, a large plume- unseen bodies with real life signs. Hidden in earth, behind trees- soft but omnipresent, a cultural icon owned by these people and born of these hills.
A blessing for this mind- a treat for these eyes- an adventure for these feet. A body completely engaged- mind, body and spirit.