<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11302637</id><updated>2011-04-21T12:16:27.394-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Laura in Bhutan</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurainbhutan.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11302637/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurainbhutan.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17527965177027957938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>14</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11302637.post-111444944807243050</id><published>2005-04-25T09:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-25T10:17:28.073-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Phallus</title><content type='html'>Flying Phallus&lt;br /&gt;Wooden Phallus&lt;br /&gt;Laminated Phallus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Sunday, i had many encounters with inanimate phalluses (phallusi?) and would love to share with you, gentle readers. I went to the Divine Madman's Temple in Punakha, located about a 45 minute walk off the road through terraced farmland and rice paddies. In a very small village along the way, many homes were adorned with giant paintings of the Flying Phallus, the symbol of the Divine Madman who apparently had a rather unorthodox practice of -ahem- spreading his spiritual teachings. The Temple is now a pilgrimage site for barren couples. Although I was with 3 other people (who already have had children), we were all bonked in the head with a wooden phallus by the caretaker monk when we entered. My fertility and blessings were even further compounded when i rolled the magic number (11) on the first try with 3 handcarved dice made of bone. The monk and my guide were quite pleased with this auspicious sign! Alas, this surge in my fertility does me little good living like a nun high in the Himalayas. Later in the car, laughing about how we could all start a porno internet site with our photos from the day, the Bhutanese driver suddenly handed me a laminated card of - what else - a photo of a wooden phallus he keeps in his pocket for a reason I don't know nor wish to speculate. Paul, the Canadian volunteer doctor, remarked from the back seat "He's bragging to you, Laura" which set the tone for the rest of the car trip. Hysteria and ribald George W Bush jokes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11302637-111444944807243050?l=laurainbhutan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurainbhutan.blogspot.com/feeds/111444944807243050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11302637&amp;postID=111444944807243050' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11302637/posts/default/111444944807243050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11302637/posts/default/111444944807243050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurainbhutan.blogspot.com/2005/04/phallus.html' title='Phallus'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17527965177027957938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11302637.post-111410398239222082</id><published>2005-04-21T09:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-21T10:19:42.393-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Book excerpt</title><content type='html'>I have just finished reading a delightful Bhutanese short novel. It is entitled "Dawa, the Story of a Stray Dog in Bhutan" by Kunzang Choeden. Several passages really had me laughing because the locations are familiar (the dog lives on the hospital grounds and the chorten at the bottom of my street for a while) and the storyline is clever (basically a parable about becoming enlightened despite unfortunate and challenging circumstances). Most of all, the descriptions of the stray dog community is so accurate. I wanted to share a passage with you all: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A long time ago it was this dog, Dawa, and his howling pack that kept many residents of Thimphu awake, night after night. Sleep-deprived and groggy, the poor people could not help but talk endlessly about the scourge of the howling stray dogs in the capital of Bhutan. It almost seemed as if the dogs liked being talked about at all levels of society and were encouraged to howl more frequently, louder and longer, even on moonless nights.  For many Bhutanese in the munincipal area of Thimphu, the howling of dogs may well have been the first sound they heard in their lives. They were more or less immune to the nightly canine howling, just as the people in the big cities of the world are not bothered by the continuous flow of traffic and the loud sirens that scream through the streets, day and night. It was the unfortunate expatriate community, who had not yet acquired immunity, and the tourists who suffered. The invariable howling constantly reminded the expatriates why Thimphu was justified as a 'difficult area' in the terminology of the international organizations.  Without some compensation, how could one be expected to work effectively after continuous sleepless nights?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11302637-111410398239222082?l=laurainbhutan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurainbhutan.blogspot.com/feeds/111410398239222082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11302637&amp;postID=111410398239222082' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11302637/posts/default/111410398239222082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11302637/posts/default/111410398239222082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurainbhutan.blogspot.com/2005/04/book-excerpt.html' title='Book excerpt'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17527965177027957938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11302637.post-111410264227229772</id><published>2005-04-21T09:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-21T09:57:22.273-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The weeds are "Weed"!</title><content type='html'>Ah, springtime in Bhutan, where the apple trees blossom pink and white, the willows become a soft green, and every path in the kingdom seems to be lined with wild marijuana. I began noticing a few days ago that the weeds along the road seemed to be of an unusual shape, but now that I look closer I see that pot is growing absolutely everywhere- on the way to the hospital, in front of the police station, next to the chorten, etc. As far as i can tell, it is not cultivated and nothing eats it except maybe stray animals (but its effects are not in concordance with the endlessly barking packs of dogs). Is this my way to make millions (for the medical-use community of course, dad)? But i would probably be caught in Bangkok by some drug-sniffing beagle and wind up languishing in a Thai prison cell. I can honestly say that even though I was a proud Deadhead in my early 20's, i never imbibed, but the leaf symbol is immortalized in that sub-culture and its scent is indisputable. This is some people's vision of paradise!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11302637-111410264227229772?l=laurainbhutan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurainbhutan.blogspot.com/feeds/111410264227229772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11302637&amp;postID=111410264227229772' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11302637/posts/default/111410264227229772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11302637/posts/default/111410264227229772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurainbhutan.blogspot.com/2005/04/weeds-are-weed.html' title='The weeds are &quot;Weed&quot;!'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17527965177027957938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11302637.post-111340924615852064</id><published>2005-04-13T08:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-13T09:21:56.986-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Teaching massage</title><content type='html'>It has taken me a bit of time to create a role here at the physio dept/hospital. I have been exposed to tremendous learning experiences (some frankly gruesome, some enlightening, some technical, some emotional) while at work, but was feeling a little directionless in an environment where one truly has to have intrinsic motivation and desire to make an impact.  The notoriously laid-back culture, which certainly exists in the workplace as well, can be dauntingly structureless without direct supervision and clear objectives and parameters. It would be easy, and maybe even is expected, for the volunteers who come briefly to Bhutan to just go day-by-day and treat the experience as an immersion into a foreign culture, plain and simple. I hope it is not a streak of egomania, but I would prefer to leave some sort of legacy and believe that people directly benefited from my presence here.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have found a way! A very enjoyable, edifying, frequently hysterical, culturally-revealing way ... through massage!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Monday, I began teaching massage to the first-year Physio students as well as the staff physical therapists and techs. What a laugh riot! Trying to convince a male student that he really did have to take off his "gho", a full-body garment consisting of copious yards of rough thick material and belted very tightly at the waist, in order to receive a Swedish-style back massage involved several minutes of cojoling and finally barring his way behind the curtains telling him I wouldn't let him out until he was lying on the table with his back bare (and covered with a sheet). By the way, I was REQUESTED (multiple times) to teach massage by these particular students and staff and attendance is completely voluntary - i really was not trying to be The Ugly American. If I had trouble with the males, imagine how difficult it is trying to convince the females, who don't show an inch of their bodies except at the wrists and neck/face/head! I emphasized the importance of draping, creating a comfort and trust level with the client, respecting boundaries, etc. There were so many differences between the actions of the students here than at massage school in Boston. Whereas we were not totally resistive to the thought of certain areas of skin being exposed during the course of massage, we did seem to initially hesistate at the physical touching aspect and were all a little too light and ill-confident at first. Here in Bhutan, the physio students have been touching clients for years, across gender lines, and once the massage class was underway (with the reluctant model on the table), the massage techniques were easily understood and executed without hesitation. Much joking ensued.  I don't know the local language, but it was pretty obvious that lots of off-color remarks and observations were being made about the poor person on the table! The students seem eager to learn, ask for repeated demonstrations and are so much more interested in learning massage than the teaching unit I did on Burns and Wounds in Physiotherapy. It is really fulfilling to see that look of understanding and excitment in their eyes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, even though I come to Bhutan as an Occupational Therapist, my true contribution, i think, is massage therapy. Thank you, Massage Institute of New England!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11302637-111340924615852064?l=laurainbhutan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurainbhutan.blogspot.com/feeds/111340924615852064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11302637&amp;postID=111340924615852064' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11302637/posts/default/111340924615852064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11302637/posts/default/111340924615852064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurainbhutan.blogspot.com/2005/04/teaching-massage.html' title='Teaching massage'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17527965177027957938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11302637.post-111340622107635420</id><published>2005-04-13T08:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-13T08:30:21.076-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Todays forecast</title><content type='html'>According to the national newspaper (published twice a week on Thursdays and Saturdays ... and available on-line if you'd like to view it from home at www.kuenselonline.com), today's forecast is:&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday 13 April 2005: The elements of earth and wind make it a good day to employ domestic help, draw mandalas, perform rituals, hold discourse, and sow seeds. Not a good day to marry, roof the house, shift to a new house, venture on a long journey, give away household wealth and take out the dead from the house.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11302637-111340622107635420?l=laurainbhutan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurainbhutan.blogspot.com/feeds/111340622107635420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11302637&amp;postID=111340622107635420' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11302637/posts/default/111340622107635420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11302637/posts/default/111340622107635420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurainbhutan.blogspot.com/2005/04/todays-forecast.html' title='Todays forecast'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17527965177027957938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11302637.post-111306524326887560</id><published>2005-04-09T09:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-09T09:47:23.270-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bhutan-wood</title><content type='html'>Not Hollywood or Bollywood - I've been exposed to the Bhutanese movie experience!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What happens when two Americans, one Canadian, and two Bhutanese go to the movie theatre (one of four in the country)? Lots of popcorn (not warm and no extra butter option, but still very tasty), filtered water, and laughter. Instead of commercials or movie previews, the warm-up for the movie was Bhutanese music videos. All of the seats were in a balcony with stadium level seating and the theatre was comfortable but became very chilly as the evening progressed. Not a place to seek refuge from the weather outside! Tickets cost about $1.50. The movie was a love story of epic proportions, in Dzongha without subtitles, which actually created difficulty for my two Bhutanese friends who do not speak the official language of Bhutan - one is from the south and speaks Nepali and the other from the East and speaks Sharshokps. But love is the universal language and we could basically understand the plot. Every now and then the action would stop and it became a musical of sorts featuring the two main actors singing. The music was so good that I bought the soundtrack! The acting and filming were as professional as any Western film I have seen, and I was truly impressed (couldn't comment on the script of course!) The director of the movie was also the main actor and apparently is the same director of The Cup which apparently made it to international recognition a few years ago.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11302637-111306524326887560?l=laurainbhutan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurainbhutan.blogspot.com/feeds/111306524326887560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11302637&amp;postID=111306524326887560' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11302637/posts/default/111306524326887560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11302637/posts/default/111306524326887560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurainbhutan.blogspot.com/2005/04/bhutan-wood.html' title='Bhutan-wood'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17527965177027957938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11302637.post-111254071036626171</id><published>2005-04-03T07:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-03T08:05:10.366-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dochu La</title><content type='html'>To celebrate the upcoming 2 week externships throughout the country of the soon-to-graduate 2nd year class, Joan and I arranged a mini-trek and picnic outing in Dochu La, about 15 miles from Thimphu. It is a mountain pass on the main road (the only one, I believe) that leads to eastern Bhutan. It is known for its tens of thousands of prayer flags (which tend to be placed in windy places and/or over water for the elements to spread the prayers forth) and very recently one of the Queens constructed 108 chortens at the top of the pass. It is a favorite place for local Bhutanese to picnic and trek - fortunately, there were very few people despite it being a glorious sun-filled day. On the way, we passed a unique prayer wheel, which turned with water power from a little stream tumbling down the cliffside. I saw a wind-powered prayer wheel a week ago where some clever person attached little propellers to a prayer wheel so that it turned the wheel clockwise in a breeze; otherwise, prayer wheels are turned by hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I took 40-plus photos and was completely overcome by the sight of this place. I practically had to sit on my hands to stop snapping photos. A blind monkey could take stupendous photos in this spot- how could you not? Everywhere you turned there was color, if not the chortens, the prayer flags strewn everywhere like the most expansive New Years Party ever thrown, the mountains, the rhododendrum TREES blooming red, Daphne flowers blooming white and scenting the forest deliciously, wild strawberries, purple wildflowers, trees covered in moss ... It was beautiful enough to bring tears to my eyes.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We walked for about 3 hours and then had a packed lunch that Joan and I had made the night before - a culinary feat, if i can toot my own horn. We managed to make very tasty pizzas using a large pot with stones in the bottom and a frying pan on top of the stones and a large lid over the whole thing. Two badly burned pots later, we had 4 of the most perfect spinach, mushroon, and onion pizzas ever seen. The students had brought tea and we sat in the sun, ate, some took naps, I wandered off to watch two goats play King of the Hill on top of a construction-site sandpile. On the ride home, I saw my first yaks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a wonderful day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11302637-111254071036626171?l=laurainbhutan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurainbhutan.blogspot.com/feeds/111254071036626171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11302637&amp;postID=111254071036626171' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11302637/posts/default/111254071036626171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11302637/posts/default/111254071036626171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurainbhutan.blogspot.com/2005/04/dochu-la_03.html' title='Dochu La'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17527965177027957938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11302637.post-111254062967330994</id><published>2005-04-03T07:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-03T08:03:49.676-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dochu La</title><content type='html'>To celebrate the upcoming 2 week externships throughout the country of the soon-to-graduate 2nd year class, Joan and I arranged a mini-trek and picnic outing in Dochu La, about 15 miles from Thimphu. It is a mountain pass on the main road (the only one, I believe) that leads to eastern Bhutan. It is known for its tens of thousands of prayer flags (which tend to be placed in windy places and/or over water for the elements to spread the prayers forth) and very recently one of the Queens constructed 108 chortens at the top of the pass. It is a favorite place for local Bhutanese to picnic and trek - fortunately, there were very few people despite it being a glorious sun-filled day. On the way, we passed a unique prayer wheel, which turned with water power from a little stream tumbling down the cliffside. I saw a wind-powered prayer wheel a week ago where some clever person attached little propellers to a prayer wheel so that it turned the wheel clockwise in a breeze; otherwise, prayer wheels are turned by hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I took 40-plus photos and was completely overcome by the sight of this place. I practically had to sit on my hands to stop snapping photos. A blind monkey could take stupendous photos in this spot- how could you not? Everywhere you turned there was color, if not the chortens, the prayer flags strewn everywhere like the most expansive New Years Party ever thrown, the mountains, the rhododendrum TREES blooming red, Daphne flowers blooming white and scenting the forest deliciously, wild strawberries, purple wildflowers, trees covered in moss ... It was beautiful enough to bring tears to my eyes.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We walked for about 3 hours and then had a packed lunch that Joan and I had made the night before - a culinary feat, if i can toot my own horn. We managed to make very tasty pizzas using a large pot with stones in the bottom and a frying pan on top of the stones and a large lid over the whole thing. Two badly burned pots later, we had 4 of the most perfect spinach, mushroon, and onion pizzas ever seen. The students had brought tea and we sat in the sun, ate, some took naps, I wandered off to watch two goats play King of the Hill on top of a construction-site sandpile. On the ride home, I saw my first yaks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a wonderful day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11302637-111254062967330994?l=laurainbhutan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurainbhutan.blogspot.com/feeds/111254062967330994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11302637&amp;postID=111254062967330994' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11302637/posts/default/111254062967330994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11302637/posts/default/111254062967330994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurainbhutan.blogspot.com/2005/04/dochu-la.html' title='Dochu La'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17527965177027957938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11302637.post-111174425027316795</id><published>2005-03-25T01:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-25T01:50:50.276-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pilgrimage Before Dawn</title><content type='html'>Joan and I got up at 3 am this morning to trek to the last day of the festival. There were enough streetlights and lamps burning to see our way, which was filled with throngs of people slowly making their way up the steep path. At 4:15 am, incense billowing to the sound of monks chanting and gongs and horns, an appliqued tapestry that covered a 4 story building (height and width) was slowly unveiled with the help of 40 monks and pulleys. This particular tapestry is only 9 years old - it replaced one that had been used since the 17th century. It is unveiled only in the dark to preserve its colors. As it was extremely cold and overcast (it had snowed overnite in the surrounding mountains) the tapestry was unveiled for about 3 hours, during which people (including me) lined up to touch the bottom edge to their heads. It was said that merely seeing the tapestry was blessing itself, to touch it was a high blessing indeed. I was advised to make a prayer that would include all sentient beings. I'm glad that this aspect of spiritual belief was explained to me before I made a more personal and selfish wish. The whole time, monks were making that very deep-throated noise that sounds as if it could not possibly be emitted from a human being. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The King is in town to bless the Tiger's Nest monastery tomorrow (as well as unveil a draft of the first ever Bhutanese constitution) and I had hoped to hike up to the site before he arrived. I walked about 15 km today in my traditional Bhutanese dress up hills and dales in the countryside but was not admitted to the Tiger's Nest area. It is closed for security purposes in preparation for the King. I can't express how wonderful it felt to be in a rural area, completely in peace and quiet, passing occasional homes, and listening to the creeks strongly flowing from recent rains and snow, prayer flags fluttering in the brisk wind, and the tinkling bells that seem to be often placed alongside the flags. Walking through a wooded area of fresh-smelling pine trees, an amiable bull was my only companion (who ever heard of a bull in a pine forest?). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't wait to share some of the photos I've taken and I even have a very short video with sounds of the festival. I am returning to Thimphu tomorrow and will hopefully have Hotmail access again, because i miss you guys and your personal messages.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11302637-111174425027316795?l=laurainbhutan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurainbhutan.blogspot.com/feeds/111174425027316795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11302637&amp;postID=111174425027316795' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11302637/posts/default/111174425027316795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11302637/posts/default/111174425027316795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurainbhutan.blogspot.com/2005/03/pilgrimage-before-dawn.html' title='Pilgrimage Before Dawn'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17527965177027957938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11302637.post-111163753121442427</id><published>2005-03-23T20:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-23T20:12:11.216-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Food</title><content type='html'>First I must ask, who is named "wild" - the person who is posting comments now and then? You are correct, one cannot appreciate Bhutan without eating the local cuisine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a vegetarian's paradise, as long as you aren't also on the Atkins Diet! Rice, mounds of it, is a staple. The dishes, including the famous Emu Datshi, is FIRE HOT because it seems that the chili pepper is considered a vegetable rather than a spice. One can find four full-sized chili peppers in one serving of mixed veggies. I remove them and hope the heat hasn't already saturated the dish too much. I have napkins at the ready for my watering nose and eyes. Clears out the dust that has been blowing in my face during the festivities.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11302637-111163753121442427?l=laurainbhutan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurainbhutan.blogspot.com/feeds/111163753121442427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11302637&amp;postID=111163753121442427' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11302637/posts/default/111163753121442427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11302637/posts/default/111163753121442427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurainbhutan.blogspot.com/2005/03/food.html' title='Food'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17527965177027957938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11302637.post-111158008530175903</id><published>2005-03-23T04:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-23T04:14:45.303-08:00</updated><title type='text'>dogs at night</title><content type='html'>What a night!&lt;br /&gt;Imagine, if you will, sleeping inside a small cage full of a thousand feral animals fighting over meat. This describes the din outside of my hotel window last night. All night. Tonight I plan on taking a sleeping pill for the first time in my life. I had read about the noises of the stray dogs, and was advised to bring earplugs, but had assumed this was gross exaggeration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, the day has been superb with watching the festivities, taking lots of photos, being given a boiled sweet potato from an elderly man turning his personal prayer wheel, and then sharing my bag of peanuts with him. It was sunny and bright, the temperature seems to range from about 30F in the morning to the mid 70's in the sun midday. Very crisp and nice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have not been able to access hotmail and check my emails - the hotmail seems to be down in these parts. Blogger still works and this is how I remain in contact for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11302637-111158008530175903?l=laurainbhutan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurainbhutan.blogspot.com/feeds/111158008530175903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11302637&amp;postID=111158008530175903' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11302637/posts/default/111158008530175903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11302637/posts/default/111158008530175903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurainbhutan.blogspot.com/2005/03/dogs-at-night.html' title='dogs at night'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17527965177027957938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11302637.post-111149630010651664</id><published>2005-03-22T04:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-22T04:58:20.106-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tarot Reading from a Fingerless Man</title><content type='html'>I am in Paro for the Tschechu, which is a national holiday lasting 5 days. I will be here in Paro from today (Tues) through Sunday morning. I worked this morning in Thimphu and had my first hands-on treatment session with a man who had a stroke a year ago. We were let out early and hopped into a taxi that was enblazened with symbols for safe travel and good fortune, which was highly necessary, given the cliffs and hairpin turns that characterize every moment of the 1.5 hour journey. Luckily i was in the front seat and had a view and could stick my head out the window so that i wouldn't get car sick. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had only seen Paro from the airport, not the town center. It is a lovely town with a main street that seems to be historic. The buildings seem steeped in history, with wooden signs and faded paintings on walls and the elaborately carved windows. There are also prayer wheels that are turned by passers-by as they conduct their shopping. Thimphu is more of a modern feel, large plastic signs dominate the shops there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the walk to the festival, I passed a man with leprosy - he had no fingers left. He had a broad smile, though, and on the way back i realized that he was giving Tarot readings, of a sort. I selected a card and he said (in Dzongha - it was translated for me) some odd things: I was a man in my previous life and at birth I was suddenly formed into a woman (misogynist?) and that i would be quickly cured if I were to be sick, and also that my home has good luck and that i would find good fortune wherever I happened to live.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11302637-111149630010651664?l=laurainbhutan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurainbhutan.blogspot.com/feeds/111149630010651664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11302637&amp;postID=111149630010651664' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11302637/posts/default/111149630010651664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11302637/posts/default/111149630010651664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurainbhutan.blogspot.com/2005/03/tarot-reading-from-fingerless-man.html' title='Tarot Reading from a Fingerless Man'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17527965177027957938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11302637.post-111141887441472795</id><published>2005-03-21T06:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-21T07:27:54.416-08:00</updated><title type='text'>First day at work</title><content type='html'>It is Monday eve here at the Physio house (Monday morning for you EST people) and I just completed my first day at work, where I did rounds and met a whole slew of people with names I certainly cannot recall, much less spell! The good news is that most people here have one name only, and usually those names have no more than 2 syllables. I have met many people, both male and female, named Dorji, for instance. The important thing is that people were very friendly and I had many interactions of beaming smiles from young and old.  I toured around the hospital of about 200 inpatient beds and a good number of outpatients also come for therapy. The wards themselves were somewhat similar to movies I have seen of Civil War era hospitals, with rows of metal beds 2 feet from each other. The difference is that it was clean, no one was moaning, and families abounded, sometimes there would be 5 people piled on a patient's bed, just keeping their relatives company and attending to their needs. i think the hospital attempts to restrict the number of visitors - I witnessed one family waving and smiling to their family member through the window after climbing on a pile of bricks just to get their eyes to windowsill level and then send food and thermoses through the windows.  I don't think that the hospital employs nurse's aides - families seem to take care of hygiene, feeding, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I begin teaching next week on the subject of skin anatomy/physiology, burns, and wounds. Thankfully there are lots of resources from previous volunteers to help me through. Somehow I am being referred to as "an expert in neuro patients" ie. stroke victims. It is making me feel like a big fat imposter, esp. while wearing the required long white lab coat. I am attempting to look very accomplished and confident, even though judging from photos of previous volunteers, I am well-below the average age.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very conveniently, I am going on  vacation tomorrow! It happens to be a national holiday in Paro - and consists of 3 days of dancing, archery (the national sport), and lots of pomp and circumstance. The Tigers Nest monastery, which I saw flying into Paro, is being rededicated by the King and his 4 Queens and lamas and all sorts of VIPs. I bought a traditional cotton and silk dress for the occasion. I strongly resemble the US flag in my color scheme, but i really can't complain, considering that it was sewn for me in one hour when the giggling shopkeeper explained that I was too tall for the ready-made ones and I had limited fabric from which to choose.  National dress is mandatory in most circumstances, esp at an event where Royalty will be present. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My emotions have been all across the board. I have to admit that I am pretty homesick at times. But i am also thrilled to be here - it is breathtaking gorgeous and I hope that I can make a difference in the 8 weeks I am here. And I yearn to learn from the people and their culture. I feel comfortable and welcomed. I can walk the streets alone and go into the Buddhist temple and feel safe and  accepted, It is also very nice to live with a fellow volunteer who knows the ropes already. it is a much more smooth transition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first day at any job can cause agita and unpleasantness - I would say this has been one of the nicer first days I have had.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11302637-111141887441472795?l=laurainbhutan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurainbhutan.blogspot.com/feeds/111141887441472795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11302637&amp;postID=111141887441472795' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11302637/posts/default/111141887441472795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11302637/posts/default/111141887441472795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurainbhutan.blogspot.com/2005/03/first-day-at-work.html' title='First day at work'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17527965177027957938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11302637.post-111025019303413185</id><published>2005-03-07T18:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-07T18:49:53.036-08:00</updated><title type='text'>preparations</title><content type='html'>Butterflies are fluttering madly in my stomach, but I am looking forward to traveling to Bhutan and opening my eyes to a new world.   I am acutely aware of how much I will miss those in my life here.  Thanks to all of you who have been such a wondrous support to me. Your kindness and generosity have brought me countless moments of joy and laughter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My massage course is completed thanks to the 105 of you good people who had enough confidence in me to lay on my table (even when I was a novice) and to those who provided me with encouragement to persevere despite aching arthritic thumbs and low physical and emotional energy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now it is time to celebrate - don't forget to dance, bowl, shoot pool, chat, eat, or drink the night away on Sat March 12th at the Milky Way in JP from 8:30 pm to ???.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11302637-111025019303413185?l=laurainbhutan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurainbhutan.blogspot.com/feeds/111025019303413185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11302637&amp;postID=111025019303413185' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11302637/posts/default/111025019303413185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11302637/posts/default/111025019303413185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurainbhutan.blogspot.com/2005/03/preparations.html' title='preparations'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17527965177027957938</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
