Radio Shangri-La_ What I Learned in Bhutan, the Happiest Kingdom on Earth - Lisa Napoli [76]
Now I had new photographs to add to my collection. One is a shot of a bale of hay on a dairy farm we visited that belonged to Sebastian’s friends. It resembled one of those oversize Claes Oldenburg sculptures, like a giant piece of shredded wheat, the gold of the sunset shining brightly in the corner. That magic hour of light in the early summer as it starts to dim, the temperature readjusting to cool.
The other picture is of Sebastian, a few minutes later, sleeves rolled up, a big grin on his face, mugging for the camera, eyes wide, the gray flecks in his hair catching the sun, the sky bright blue behind him. Reveling in the beauty of the twilight. I knew I couldn’t freeze the clock right at that instant, and even if I could have, it would have been futile. But my resistance to forward motion was for good reason: When this weekend was over, a piece of who I used to be would be finished, too. Now I understood what that thunderbolt I’d experienced when we first spotted each other was all about. I had mistaken it for romance—true love, even. But in Bhutan, the Land of the Thunder Dragon, a thunderbolt literally signals a roar of power. A moment of enlightenment.
10
DAWN OF DEMOCRACY
THE PEOPLE OF BHUTAN WERE NOT SORRY TO SEE the year of the Female Fire Hog come to a close. It had been an astrologically sour one. Arbiters of the skies had warned that it would be a bad time to do just about anything: get married, have a child, start a job or project, begin new construction. Judging from the nests of bamboo scaffolding rising above the streets of the capital city, and the numbers of babies slung over the backs of women as they trundled around doing their chores, activity in the capital had hardly come to a screeching halt. Life had proceeded—but with many extra prayers and cautions. To combat the misaligned stars, the official astrological calendar of Bhutan had recommended “appropriate preventive religious ceremonies.” Maybe you went ahead and moved a few things into the home of the person you intended to marry, but delayed the complete union of possessions until 2008. In the meantime, you were well-advised to deploy a bunch of monks to make things right with the gods.
Leaving the year of the Female Fire Hog behind didn’t mean the Bhutanese were any less wary of the coming one. The dawn of the year of the Male Earth Mouse also meant the dawn of democracy in Bhutan—and with that, the formal diminishment of the all-powerful monarchy that had reigned for a century. Bhutan’s king would continue to lead, but no longer would he possess absolute power. A year into the king’s tenure, Bhutan was still adjusting to this new, young monarch, and the absence of his beloved father on the throne. No one was terribly keen to elect the parliament he’d insisted they create, or to see him give up power.
Getting citizens to the polls on December 31 posed a challenge, and not because the date marked the Western New Year’s Eve. It had to do with a higher power. In the weeks in advance of the election, official notices had been placed in the newspapers:
REQUEST TO TEMPORARILY POSTPONE ANY PILGRIMAGE PLANS
Bhutan is a Buddhist country, and annually around this time in winter, everyone wishes to pay homage to holy places in the neighbouring countries. Nevertheless it is essential for every citizen to be present in the country and be able to serve our homeland when such a historic event is taking place. At this time, National Council and National Parliament elections are in progress. Therefore, we suggest that every citizen should