Radio Shangri-La_ What I Learned in Bhutan, the Happiest Kingdom on Earth - Lisa Napoli [0]
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Napoli, Lisa
Radio Shangri-la: what I learned in the happiest kingdom on earth /
Lisa Napoli.
p. cm.
1. Bhutan—Description and travel. 2. Napoli, Lisa, 1963—Travel—Bhutan.
I. Title.
DS491.5.N37 2010
954.98—dc22
[B] 2009049176
eISBN: 978-0-307-45304-4
Title page photo by Lauren Dong
Jacket design by Laura Duffy
v3.1
For Kinga Norbu and all the children,
may they find a happy path in a peaceful world
For my friends,
may they feel as much love and support as they’ve given
For my parents,
who taught me that family doesn’t have to be biological
CONTENTS
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Epigraph
Preface: Three Good Things
Chapter 1: THE THUNDERBOLT, PART ONE
Chapter 2: “WELCOME, JANE!”
Chapter 3: RADIO SHANGRI-LA
Chapter 4: BEWARE THE EMADATSE
Chapter 5: GOD OF THE NIGHT
Chapter 6: BHUTAN ON THE BORDER, OR, THE START-UP COUNTRY
Chapter 7: THE SYMPHONY OF LOVE
Chapter 8: MY BEST FRIENDS IN THE WORLD RIGHT NOW
Chapter 9: THE THUNDERBOLT, PART TWO
Chapter 10: DAWN OF DEMOCRACY
Chapter 11: AMERICA 101: “THAT’S COOL”
Chapter 12: BABY WATCH
POSTSCRIPT
Epilogue: LOOSE MOTION
Acknowledgments
Selected Bibliography
About the Author
Grant your blessings so that confusion on the path may be eliminated.
Grant your blessings so that confusion may dawn as wisdom.
Please bless me so that I may liberate myself by attaining realisation.
Bless me so that I may liberate others by the strength of compassion.
May all connections I develop be meaningful.
—HIS HOLINESS THE TWELFTH GYALWANG DRUKPA,
The Preliminary Practice of Guru Yoga
We are the station that makes you smile.
We can help you walk a mile.
And even when you stop and think
We can make you dance and sing.
Always do your thing, on Kuzoo FM.
Always do your thing, on Kuzoo FM.
—KUZOO FM PROMOTIONAL JINGLE
PREFACE: THREE GOOD THINGS
THE APPROACH TO the most sacred monastery in the Kingdom of Bhutan is steep and winding and, especially as you near the top, treacherous. You are sure with one false step you’ll plummet off the edge. Had I been here during certain times over the last few years, I might have hoped I would. It is a cold winter’s Saturday, dark and overcast. Misty gray clouds, pregnant with snow, hug the mountains.
My companions are several of the twenty-somethings who staff the new radio station in Bhutan’s capital city, where I’ve come to volunteer. Kuzoo FM 90: The voice of the youth. Pema is wearing jeans and a sweatshirt and flat white dress shoes, the kind you might put on with a demure frock for a tea party. Ngawang’s wearing the same stuff on top, but she’s got sneakers on her feet. Each woman carries a satchel stuffed with her kira, the official national dress, requisite attire for Bhutanese who reach the summit. Kesang is already wearing his gho, the male equivalent. Over it, he’s carrying a backpack filled with ten pounds of oil to fuel dozens of butter lamps, offerings to be left for the gods. Me, I’m twenty years older, and practicality reigns: I’ve got on my thick-soled boots, an ugly long black down coat with a hood, and six layers of clothing underneath.
So much for the strength I’ve gained from my daily swimming regime; I am huffing and puffing against the altitude and the intensity of the climb. My new friends modulate their sprints to let me keep up.
Bhutanese are hearty in many matters—they are used to living off the land, the hard lives of farmers—but they are particularly strong when it involves making the trek to this place called Takshang, built on a sheer cliff that soars ten thousand feet into the sky. The depth of their devotion becomes abundantly clear when, out of nowhere, a radiant twelve-year-old boy scurries down past us, stark