The new longer runway for the Gelephu Airport will run parallel to the existing one and will extend towards Sarpang (and not towards Mao Khola). The runway will pass over Paitha Khola river and Aiepoli river. Land needed for this has been acquired and finalised, as per the reports.
The 3,000 metres runway and the new Terminal Building and associated infrastructure are estimated to cost around Nu. 20 billion – and will be able to accommodate the Airbus a320 family and Airbus a350.
The existing airport with its small terminal building and the 1500m runway, while serving the domestic flights, will also cater to regional flights such as to Kolkata, Guwahati and Bagdogra. The Department of Air Transport has officially renamed the airport as Gelephu International Airport and received the international certification from the ICAO (UN agency that looks after aviation). International flights to the above destinations will start soon using the existing Druk Air ATR-42. Some clearances for the air route from the respective governments are awaited. (Source: The Bhutanese and Department of Air Transport, Paro International Airport)
What does this mean for GMC?
In my view, potential investors can fly in directly from India, Nepal and Bangladesh in the immediate future. Bhutanese people living in Gelephu and in the nearly Dzongkhags can fly out without having to drive to Paro to catch the flight. Indians living in nearby Assamese districts can use it too. Connectivity is the key to any economic growth and nothing is faster, safer and reliable than air connections. And since the airport has been certified, private business jets can also fly there, which will facilitate the travels of large international investors.
In 2 years time, hopefully we should have the new airport up and running. My dream is to see our own airlines acquire an Airbus a321 and fly direct to Australia, Dubai and Kuwait. Establishing such physical connections may perhaps reverse the migration, or at least create a circular one with investments and movements and keep the emotional connection with the country.
Druk Air that flies on Fridays and Sundays is reportedly seeing an average of 20 passengers on every flight (the plane capacity is 30). As I mentioned in my earlier post, if we make service available, people will find ways to use it.
Technically, it is also possible to land the Airbus a320 types of aircrafts on this 1500m runway but may require special certification of pilots to do that since it is stretching a bit. However, this would link Gelephu immediately to Delhi, Bangkok and Singapore. There are few international airports around the world (Santos Dumont Airport – Rio de Janeiro – Brazil) that have shorter runways than Gelephu and where Airbus 320 and Boeing 737 operate.
Another key infrastructure is the railway link, which will facilitate export of boulders and agriculture products while bringing down the prices of imported goods. The railway connection is also really important because a project as massive as an entire new city cannot be done by depending on the trucks and taxis only. Heard the Northeast Frontier Railway are working on that. Hope the imminent visit of the Indian PM will give a new impetus.
Dreaming on? Sure, for, there is no cost to dreaming. It actually feels nice. Better than engulfing yourself with negativity and pessimism.
My earlier post on children left behind has stirred some conscience. I am glad. That was my intention – to make people think and reflect. Some, of course, just got offended and shrugged it off as nonsense. It has also put others in defensive mode. These were all expected. This is a very sensitive and personal matter. I understand.
I close this topic with a very personal story.
In the early 1970s when we (my four siblings and I) were growing up in Phuntsholing our parents really struggled to feed us and clothe us. My father was just a bus driver – a single-earner parent, who also had to look after his own siblings (my young uncles and aunt) since my father was the eldest. My grandfather had passed away when my father was just 10.
We lived on a bare minimum and I remember I often went to Hindu pujas and ceremonies that were conducted at the nearby Hanuman temple in Jaigaon. They gave me free food, with tea and dessert too. (This is the reason I love Indian people). Other times I ran errands for our neighbours and they would either give me some small change or feed me in their homes. Everyone knew I was always hungry. Other times I collected empty beer bottles from private homes and sold them in Jaigaon.
Around that time we also had a well-off granduncle in Kalimpong called memay Sangchung. He often visited us in Phuentsholing and took a liking for me. Memay Sangchung ran occasional tasks for the Bhutan House and our royal family and made his fortune by hosting Tibetan traders in his house. I was told he hand-stitched the ghos for the Third King, which was very highly appreciated. He was my late grandfather’s younger cousin – a close relative by Sharchop standards because he shared the same bloodline and came from the same house in Tashigang.
Memay Sangchung felt very sorry for my father and offered to help. He often took me and my sister to Kalimpong on school breaks and gave us everything we asked for – food, clothes, pocket money, etc. He also offered to adopt us and educate us in the best boarding schools in Kalimpong or Darjeeling. Memay even tried to entice me by showing hundreds of zee beads, ivories, cobra horns and gold statues, and told me I could have them all if I became his foster son.
My father was quite open to it afterall memay was his real uncle. But my late mother was totally against giving us away. “Even if I can only afford a yomri (thin flour broth – a food of the poorest), we will eat together, and I will raise my children like that”. She was absolutely clear about what she was doing and what she could provide for us. “Waktsa rey soenam rey” (every child comes with a fortune) was her favourite line. I later went to Don Bosco Technical School (Kharbandi) in the same town.
What my mother lacked in terms of materials and properties, she made up with her big heart, optimism and a great sense of humour. Despite the hardship, our house in Phuntsholing was also the favourite transit hostel for every person from eastern Bhutan. But my mother never once complained or turned away anyone who sought shelter in our home.
She poured her unconditional and boundless love on all of us – without distinction and without once feeling hopeless. Maybe this is the reason why my siblings and I grew up as fairly grounded people. We simply grew up in love, laughter and optimism – but penniless and most of the time slipperless.
So to all of you, especially the young Bhutanese mothers, whatever you can afford for your children is okay. However, I wish you the togetherness, sitting in circles, and eating and enjoying that simple thing you can afford – maybe it is just a yomri – but with limitless love and laughter. Now or later. Whenever.
Yes, money is important. That’s the sad reality of the modern world. But don’t forget love. And for that, you don’t have to seek it anywhere else. You don’t have to leave the country we all love – or the community that loves you.
It is there inside you – in all of us. And maybe that’s the best gift you can give. Rest, I believe, your children will figure it out – like we did. Because, we all come with a fortune clipped on our head.
(Picture: My father, my younger sister and I with my Dev Anand-inspired hairstyle. 😁😁😁 1976, Phuntsholing, Gupta Studio. The shirt and the tie were part of the Studio wardrobe.)
Last week in a casual conversation with my so-called social media influencers, one working mother-journalist, shared something very concerning. The case of many young parents who have left their young children in the hands of caregivers back in Bhutan.
In a bid to secure the future of their children, the parents are working abroad and sending money and resources back home. It is a common narrative across Asia and not just confined to Bhutan. So far so good. It sounds nice. It sounds noble. It sounds rational. But this is where the good news ends, in my view.
As I mentioned before, I am not a child psychologist, but a social science student who is trained to observe social phenomena a little more in depth. More than that I am a parent of two daughters (now adults) and the head of an extended family with a long list of nieces and nephews, who always believed that depriving your children of parental love and presence does not bode well for their development.
The consequences of childhood dejection are even scarier. At best, these children will grow up with a big hole in their heart, while the worst case scenario is beyond anyone’s imagination.
First, there is simply nothing in the world that can replace the parental love and their continued presence as the child grows up and confronts the cruel, complicated and confusing world. Second, there is tons of academic research that shows that the harm from the absence outweighs any economic benefits. One study from China suggests that children who are not raised by their parents are at higher risk of internet addiction, depression, anxiety, loneliness, suicidal ideation, drug abuse and violent crimes.
As we come to terms with the increasing reality of outmigration, there are few questions that one needs to ask in earnest – with utmost sincerity. Whose dreams and future are you securing? Your own or your children’s? Won’t there be the possibility that the dreams you are building could turn into nightmares in future? What if you are left with a broken child. What kind of adult this child would grow up to be? What kind of country are we going to live in? Mind you, ours is a small nation and it will take one person to bring down the whole society and the atmosphere. We are not India or the Philippines to absorb social shocks. No amount of money or iPad will substitute you.
I might also add that there are no perfect one-size-fits-all answers to the above questions. It depends from case to case, person to person, and from family to family. For instance, two of my age-mates with foreign spouses successfully brought up their children in the US with strong Bhutanese identity. And back in the 2000s my own sister had to leave behind two young children, and we the two elder siblings tried our best to fill the gap. It looks like it worked in our case. To our great fortune, though, our elder sister was a housewife, and we didn’t have iPads, smartphones or social media. And life was fairly simple and straight-forward. And I also met a woman in New York who has no choice but to provide from afar.
For those who are out, I feel it would be good to follow our age-old advice, which my late mother used to give me. Whatever you do, do it with moderation (tsham tshey in Bhutanese). If you have made some inroad into financial security, come back. For those parents who are planning to leave, take turns to go and study and earn abroad, while one stays back and be with the children. Or if you can afford and also ensure that you can rein in your children, pass your values and identity (which will be tough), take the children with you. Be careful with this too. This is another topic that I have partly dealt with in other talks and articles.
Ask those tough questions every now and then, and be honest with yourself, instead of blindly following the herd, or stubbornly chasing the dream. You know your own situation, circumstances, and your children better than anyone. But, if you lose your children no one will cry with you. The mass you followed will instead blame you for not knowing how to parent.
Most importantly, as my influencer-colleague shared with a heavy heart, be aware! Just know that this nightmarish future is not something you can undo once it unfolds in front of you.
You cannot unwind the clock of your life. You cannot retrieve those lost years.
Landing in Bhutan’s only international airport, especially for those flying in for the first time, can be quite an experience with terrible air turbulences and sudden drops in altitude as we ram through the clouds towards Paro Valley. When you look out of the window, the wings are almost scrapping the trees and the roofs of the houses, or scratching the rock face of Dongkala or Dra Karp. But these are nothing compared to the 1990s rides with a maverick American pilot called George, who used to take us down on a nose dive and make us all pray or vomit – or both.
What is reassuring is the amazing safety record of Paro Airport. That’s because, besides the visual flight rules that the pilots have to abide by, here, the captain in command has to take full control of the landing – unlike other airports in the world where the co-pilots can also have the option to land the aircraft. Of late, pilots can also depend on better navigation support services such as GPS on the plane, and one more VOR station on the ground, to guide their way through the mist and the mountains. So, travellers who have been doing this route since the 1990s will also remember frequent flight cancellations, which are rare nowadays.
We Bhutanese, however, leave no stones unturned. Even the gods and the higher hands are invoked regularly for the smooth operations of these flights. (See Druk Air Facebook page)
The temples in the mountains often play host to appeasement rituals to local protector deities such as Dongko Tsen and Jowo Drakey of Paro, and Aap Chundu of Haa. Likewise, they invoke Tsi-Mar in Bumthang, and Aum Jomo and memay Dangling over Yonphula, Tashigang.
Being Bhutanese is about recognising that we are just part of the universe with the presence of different forces and nonhuman agencies – and not just with our human ingenuity or ego. Everything we do, is about harmony between humans, nature, and the supernatural – including flying the latest Airbus that science and technology have to offer.
Identity has been mankind’s longest search. The question of “who am I?” has intrigued thinkers from Plato to Prince Siddhartha to Descartes. For us in Bhutan, this question has become even more relevant, as the country faces the onslaught of technology and outmigration, and the dilemma and divisions brought about by changing politics and policies. Simply put, what does it mean to be Bhutanese? This lack of common understanding, I believe, forms the core of our challenges – whether it is at an individual level or as a nation. Drawing from my PhD dissertation, I will attempt to give a definition to this slippery topic.
Identity has several definitions and concepts. Depending on the discipline, there are racial identity, gender identity, religious identity, cultural identity, political identity and so on. Here, by identity I am looking at the one coming from psychology – as in the personal identity, which describes one’s distinctive attributes that make a person unique. And more so, to the sociological definition, which refers to qualities, beliefs, and traits that characterise a person or a group. Scholars argue that it is the social circumstances in which people have been raised that determine the ways in which they identify themselves. Identity is, thus, believed to be produced through social interactions and experiences.
The traditional, virtual, and hybrid communities
A traditional community is where everything is shared – life, work, happiness, or sorrows. When you build your house, the whole village comes together without expecting a payment. Wherever celebrations and ceremonies are taking place, everyone is invited by default.
Nature and spiritualism occupy the centre stage in this community. It is not humans, but nature, which dictates everything including the pace and rhythm of life. Places are not just physical spots. They are sources of stories and spirituality, and of inspirations and wisdoms. Thus, kinship and family ties are extended not only to humans, but also to nature and to nonhuman forces and spirits. For instance, tigers are referred to as azha tah (maternal uncle Tiger), bears as aku Dhom (paternal uncle Bear), and elephants as memay Sangye (Grandpa Buddha). Certain deities and mountains are also embraced like a family. Examples of case in point are ama Jomo (mother Jomo), memay Chador (grandpa Vajrapani), or as memay Ralang – a mountain in Trashigang. Kinship terms do not only serve a referential purpose. They build and sustain emotional connections too. This may be the reason why Bhutanese are close to nature and mountains.
Time, in a traditional Bhutanese community, is conceived as cyclical and not as linear. For instance, older people do not remember their age. They will remember their Buddhist zodiac signs, which is a cycle of twelve years known as lo-kor. The correct question to ask is, “How many cycles have you done?” instead of, “How old are you?”. Nature also defines the flow of time. To lift from American sociologist Robert Levine, traditional Bhutanese prefer event time, and not clock-time. In rural Bhutan, you don’t say, “I will see you at 9.30”. Rather it would be something like, “Let’s meet before the Sun sets, and after we collect our cows from the jungle”. This may explain why Bhutanese are rarely on time.
At the other extreme of a traditional society is the virtual community where humans, instead of nature, are at the centre of the universe. Here everything must be rational, logical, scientific, and black and white. It is also where time is linear. The resulting characteristics are: more individualism, expressiveness, innovation and celebration of anonymity. Money and materialism are means to enhance one’s self-worth or belonging.
Striding between tradition and technology, between collectivism and individualism, and between money and meaning, is the hybrid community. Time starts to become linear here, and the cyclical concept is still accepted. Nature has its place, and so does rational science. There is more “we” and less “me” in this group, and wealth is to enable one’s pursuit of the greater good.
Therefore, the traditional Bhutanese identity is an interdependent self, which consists of a personal self, social self and a spiritual self. The social self is derived from one’s social identity as a parent, and from the vocation one practises. The spiritual self is the recognition and internalisation of the external nonhuman energies and spirits.
The chronotopic Bhutanese identity
While one may observe these identities manifesting in different generations or communities, an interesting finding is that you can also notice these multiple identities in individuals, as one lives through the changing circumstances and contexts in life. The ingredients of the interdependent self – the personal, social and the spiritual selves, are all there in each one of us – in different dosages and degrees. I call this the chronotropic Bhutanese identity. Chronotope comes from Greek and it means time-space (chronos means time, and topos – place). The term was coined by a twentieth century Russian philosopher Mikhail Bakhtin as a literary tool to posit the idea that time and place are inseparable in art. Chronotropic identity basically argues that a change in timespace configurations triggers a seamless shift in roles, behaviours, discourses, modes of conduct, mindsets, and cultural practices.
Take for example, the people of my generation – the predominantly hybrid group that grew up in a traditional setting, and got introduced to science and technology. We start the day by reciting a few lines of prayers. We then get up, wash and offer water and incense to the altar, have breakfast and open a laptop at work. The virtual community, on the other hand, may be on the technology from the moment they wake up till they retire to bed. They would attend spiritual calls on special religious occasions, or visit a temple like Dechenphu if they need something. Conversely, the traditional people access the technology too but not as a default mode. It sees materiality both in technology and spirituality, though.
The key to a harmonious Bhutan, then, is not only to recognise these parallel matrices, but, to paraphrase another philosopher, Jean Gebser, to embrace an integral consciousness that would involve a more holistic understanding of the reality, which includes both the rational thoughts and the intuitive sense of interconnectedness and spirituality. The Generation Z (or Gen Z – referring to people born roughly after 1999) must not refute the traditional as archaic and outdated. On the other hand, the hybrids should not discard the Gen Zs as not adhering to established norms. There is space for everyone.
What’s going on in Bhutan, instead
From a sociological perspective I feel that there is a loss of innocence among traditional Bhutan, which was accelerated by political changes.
By ‘innocence’, I mean where people are honest, spontaneous, sincere, always helpful, and trusting of others, and have a strong moral compass. In general, people who haven’t been corrupted by the evils of modern society. You can find some in rural Bhutan.
The loss of innocence has led us to empathy deficit among the hybrids – because of newfound power, ego and fear. And then, among the younger generation, a decline in the sense of belonging from being not understood. Unless we address these, people will go off on tangents in search of meanings to life, instead of drawing satisfaction and purpose from the service to the collective.
My greater concern, however, is for the next generation. For better or for worse, from an interdependent-self that we should be, Gen Zs are growing up as more expressive, questioning and independent selves. Instead of love and guidance by the collectivist society, it is viewed as a social divergence. Our youth, then, feel misunderstood, and even rejected. Research shows that when they are isolated from their physical communities, they will either go away, shut off completely, or hide behind computer screens and smartphones and try connecting with the online world. One issue with living on social media is the abundance of information and knowledge there – both good and bad. Information is not knowledge, and knowledge is not wisdom. In life you need wisdom. You develop wisdom only when you engage with the physical world, where you roll out your sleeves and get your hands dirty. This may explain the success of the Desuung program. It gives that opportunity – to go hands-on and feel a sense of belonging to a meaningful community.
Fortunately, some compassion is still around in Bhutan, which is evidenced by frequent and successful fundraisers on social media, like for someone in Australia who needs a surgery, or for a fellow Bhutanese who has to go for a transplant in India – or to simply save some yaks – or build a stupa.
So, what does it mean to be Bhutanese?
To be Bhutanese means to be compassionate, altruistic and spiritual; and be aware of one’s place in a family, community and country; and share this temporary space with other beings – that are both seen and unseen. If Bhutanese, young and old, could embrace this more, instead of over stressing on cultural paraphernalia or purely pursuing economic dreams or power, a brighter and a fulfilling future – as individuals and as a nation, will be more than guaranteed.
Zurphel is probably a mispronunciation of Zur-Bae from the word, Baeyul, which means a hidden paradise in Buddhist mythology. Story has it that a cow herder entered a hut here to find a large ceremony going. He spent a week, after which he missed his home, and instantly he found himself at the doorstep of the hut, and which suddenly had turned to a rock face. When he reached his home he discovered that his wife had passed away a long time before and his children had grown as old as him.
The cow herder probably entered the baeyul, a mythical land where it is believed that one year there equals to 1000 years in the human world.
Zurphel Lhakhang was built in the same area by Chorten Gonpo, who was the heart-son (thuksey in Bhutanese) of the great treasure revealer, Terton Dorji Lingpa (1346-1405). It is believed that Chorten Gonpo built 108 temples of which Zurphel temple is one of them. Zurphel Lhakhang is believed to be built over a small lake.
According to Gangtey Trulku Rimpoche, this temple is one of the most sacred places in Khengrig Namsum (the Bhutanese name for Zhemgang region).
There are two important relics of Zurphel Temple. One is the statue of Guru Padmasambhava, which is believed to have been built by Chorten Gonpo himself. This is the most sacred piece, which is believed to speak some day in the future. It is a beautiful statue, where Guru looks like a young lad. It emits a powerful aura.
This statue of Guru is curiously wearing the robe from left to right, which is the opposite from the usual right to left. No one could explain to me why and how this happened. Nonetheless, the statue is supposed to be very sacred because of this.
There is also a smaller statue of Guru, which is believed to have been presented by the lords of Samkhara Drung, a place towards Gelephu. This statue is believed to have taken unto itself the smallpox epidemic in the 1930s. While the whole of Samkhara village was wiped out by the epidemic, only the family of Samkhara Drung survived and they moved to present-day Zurphel. And for allowing them to settle in Zurphel this statue was gifted to the village.
Bhutan’s earliest recorded history takes us to the Eighth Century when Guru Padmasambhava was invited to Bumthang to help the then-King Sindhu Raja recover from a serious illness by retrieving his life-power from a local deity Shelgeng Karpo. Guru, who was then in Yanglasho, having just completed his Vajrakilaya practices and attained his version of enlightenment would travel to Bumthang, fight the local deity and restore the health of the King. (At the site where this happened stands Kurjey temple).
In return for the favour the King would declare Buddhism to be propagated in his Kingdom.
The stone pillar of Nabji
Nabji Temple plays its role in the story as the place where Guru Rimpoche negotiated the truce between King Sindhu Raja and his rival, Nawache.
The two kings were apparently at war and in the ensuing battle the son of Sindhu Raja, Tagla Mebar, was killed – after which Sindhu Raja is believed to have either forgotten to offer his regular propitiating rituals to the local deity Shelgeng Karpo, or he deliberately did that. The deity got upset and threw some incurable disease at the King.
After the life-power of King Sindhu Raja was restored, both of them travelled to Nabji, and Padmasambhava, who also had a good relation with King Nawoche, called him over from the South. Guru negotiated a peace between the two, and the three of them placed their handprints on the stone pillar (in the picture) as their eternal promise. “Na” in Bhutanese means promise – or an oath.
Mebar Tashi Khyidron and the Temple
Later, Mebar Tashi Khyidron, who some sources associate her as the daughter of the King, and who was offered to Guru as his consort (later historians argue she was from Khoma in Lhuntse), built a temple on this location, where the pillar stood. The two thumbprints, in fact, are believed to be placed by her as the key Witness to the historic event.
Legend has it the dakinis led by Tashi Khyidron would build the temple in the daytime, and at night malignant forces would destroy it.
Story also goes that Tashi Khyidron, who was so exasperated with the demons continuously destroying the work, placed her hands on the wall and called out the Guru for help. Two fingers immersed into the stone of the wall. The marks can be seen today on the outer wall of the temple (ask the caretaker).
It is believed that Guru Rimpoche came to her aid by performing a sacred dance (tercham) on the nearby cliff, and when the demons and spirits were distracted by him, the dakinis quickly completed the temple.
The temple is also associated with the 14th century Terton Dorje Lingpa (1346-1405) who is believed to have consecrated the temple.
Visiting Nabji – Korphu
For me this was a return trip. I visited Nabji-Korphu some 20 years back – after walking for four days from Langthil village in Trongsa. We crossed the Mangdichu to the Monpa village of Jangbi and from there travelled to Phumzur (where Guru placed a Phurpa on the rock), Kubra (where Guru rested) and Ugyen Drak. We camped in the jungles with the Monpa guides who knew everything about the forests. At night around campfire they and told me about their origins.
I was passed to Korphu guides at Nabji, who took me up to Korphu, offered me the greatest of hospitality and then reached me till Nimshong.
Now from Wangdigang in Zhemgang it is a cool one hour drive with a small car to get to both Nabji and Korphu. To go to Ugyen Drak and beyond you still have to hike.
The valley, people and the sacred temple at Nabji are simply out-of-the-world. The statue of Guru is believed to be warm like a human body – even today (We cannot touch it though) and the stone pillar releases duetsi (sacred droplets of water) when persons of great spiritual attainment visit the temple.
Recommendation:
Just go! And tie-up the trip by visiting Buli Lake and the other temple built by Tashi Khyidron in Zhemgang, which are close to Trongsa-Gelephu Highway.
People make your journeys memorable. The valley has three villages with three linguistic groups – Nabji, Korphu and Nimshong. If you want to stay overnight, I recommend Korphu, which commands a better view of the valley, and made up of hospitable people who mostly came from Bumthang – and speaks Bumtap.
Korphu takes its name from a two-feet flat and oval boulder under which the great treasure revealer (terton in Dzongkha), Pema Lingpa (1450–1521) is believed to have taken shelter – after turning himself into a bee. “Gor means “stone” and phug means “cave”, and it became a cave for the Terton”, says former gup (headman) Zeko – an elderly gentleman whom I randomly met in Gelephu a month back and invited me to his village.
I had visited Nabji-Korphu before – in 2004, as a part of a UN team to open an eco-trail that the community had built with UN-GEF funding. It was a week-long trek from Langthil to Nimshong through some of the most dramatic trails – especially crossing the famed and scary Ugyen Drak. Needless to say, my team and I thoroughly enjoyed that trip and had only fond memories of me going broke midway into the trip – and scamming a colleague to be the chief guest and tip the villagers.
And now here I am back. It is 2024. How time flies!
“You can drive your car all the way to our doorstep, la” Zeko assured me when I met him in Gelephu. In fact that’s what we did.
The Lhundup Chodarling Temple:
The village of Korphu revolves around this temple – the history of which starts with the arrival of lama Chogden Gonpo (1497–1543) in Nabji. He was considered as the reincarnation of the treasure discoverer Dorji Lingpa (1346–1405), and was also a disciple of Pema Lingpa (1450–1521). He came there to disseminate the teachings of Dorling Tradition and offered statues of Guru Rinpoche and Dorji Lingpa – both of which can be seen there even today.
Few years after his arrival, an epidemic of smallpox spread in the valley and took many lives. Chogden Gonpo requested his guru, Pema Lingpa to come to Nabji to help cure the disease. Pema Lingpa obliged and came and conducted several rituals and prayers and cured the valley of the disease.
Pema Lingpa then built a two-storied retreat center following which many disciples joined him and build small huts and houses around his centre. Korphu, therefore, is one of the few cluster villages in Bhutan with houses attached to one another unlike the typical farmhouses in Bhutan that are independent and spread.
Korphu is on the hill overlooking the beautiful paddy fields and the village of Nabji. In fact, many people in other parts of Bhutan refer to this twin village as Nabji Korphu. From Nabji if you walk it is a two-hour uphill climb.
The origin of Gorphu:
When Pema Lingpa was looking for a place to establish his retreat centre, he wanted a good source of water. After befriending a local hunter called Pema Dorji, he was shown a water spring at a place known as a Umchu Gang.
One day Pema Lingpa found animal traps around Umchu Gang and he immediately removed them so that no animal was hurt. When Pema Dorji found out, he charged Pema Lingpa for doing that. Finding him really furious and relentless in his attacks, Pema Lingpa magically brought down wind and hailstorm over the place, while he himself turned into a bee and took shelter under a flat boulder.
Pema Dorji saw that he was dealing with no ordinary man, and apologised. He also gave up his hunting business and became a gomchen – lay monk under Pema Lingpa. He named the place after the boulder – as Gor-phug, and over time it was mispronounced as was popularised as Korphu.
The relics of the temple:
While Nabji is associated with Guru Padmasambhava, Korphu is a seat of Pema Lingpa. The outer structure of the temple has been renovated but the inside still is old and feels very sacred. There are the statues of Guru Padmasambhava and Avaklokiteshvara that are believed to be the handworks of Chogden Gonpo. Both the statues have the powers to grant any wish one makes, the caretaker told me.
The inner relics (nangten) are: a volume of Transcendental Wisdom in 8,000 stanzas which are referred to as Gyatongpa, which is believed to have been written in golden ink by Pema Lingpa; the ceremonial hat of Ani Choeten Zangmo, the grand-daughter of Pema Lingpa, and who is widely known for establishing a Peling seat in Dremetse in Mongar; the dress worn by Pema Lingpa, which he wore when he dove into Mebar Tsho in Bumthang; and two bells crafted by Pema Lingpa.
The sacred chamber of the Guardian Deity (Goenkang) is dedicated to Gonpo Maning Nagpo – flanked by the two local mountain deities Ap Jowo Durshing and Ap Muktsen.
Visiting Korphu:
Visiting Korphu brought me immense joy and smiles from funny memories from the earlier trip. The people of Korphu are some of the nicest folks I came across and every guest is treated like a VIP. They take pleasure in serenading you and singing you off as as you leave their magical village.
Truly it is a place I recommend before modernity or some other things erase this genuine Bhutanese hospitality. This time I also got to get blessings from each and every nangten they hold in the sacred village temple. As a descendent of Peling lineage, it was an emotional experience to see so many personal effect of this greatest of masters.
And this time, as Ap Zeko promised, it was a cool drive from Wangdigang in Zhemgang for an hour along the narrow black-topped road till the doorsteps of both Nabji and Korphu temples.
It is a place I will return again to listen to more stories, songs and soak in their warm hospitality.
I closed my week-long New Year Pilgrimage with a visit to Athang Rukha – my adopted village for 18 years now. The village of Rukha is one of the few sacred abodes of Palden Lhamo – one of the three supreme protectors of Bhutan.
My association with Rukha.
For those of you who have not been following my work, I have been associated with that valley since 2007 when I went there for the very first time on a documentary mission. The remoteness of that place (it was two days of walking through the leech infested jungles) and the misery I came across shook me to the core that I decided then and there that whatever remained of my life would be dedicated to doing something for that village. The valley is now known for the Oleps – the last hunter-gatherers of Bhutan.
I subsequently volunteered for a foundation that went on to lift them out of abject poverty to a dignified life. When the project ended, the villagers and I had bonded so much that they wouldn’t let me leave. So, I stayed on and we built some temples together in a valley that didn’t even have a prayer flag when I first got there (they practised shamanism and nature-worship). I provided the funds using my own money (which ran out every now and then and the work stopped) and the people there did the hard work – extracting the timber, carrying the boulder, ramming the mud, etc.
Fast forward to 2024, the third temple – a tshokhang (community hall) dedicated to Guru Padmasambhava – my birth deity, is getting the finishing touches of religious art on the ceiling – three mandalas of Tshela Namsum (Buddha Amitayus, Unisha Vijjaya and Tara). These mandalas when completed would throw down more blessings when anyone does ceremonies to Sangye Tshepamay, Namgyelma or Jetsun Drolma.
Abode of Palden Lhamo.
The place is believed to be the abode of Palden Lhamo and visited by both Guru Padmasambhava – on his way to Bumthang in the Eighth Century, and by Terton Pemalingpa in the Sixteenth Century on his way from Bumthang looking for a place that would eventually become Gangtey Gonpa.
A temple built in the mediaeval era stood there until it was completely destroyed in the early 1930s after the original inhabitants abandoned the valley because of the smallpox epidemic. Between 2009 and 2014, the Oleps, the new settlers of Rukha and I built the temple over the mud ruins of the original temple. Left untouched, the ruins can be seen on the ground floor. The carpenter, Chorten Tshering, was told in his dream by a girl not to destroy the mud ruins.
In 2014 when the former Tsugla lopen Samten Dorji consecrated the first temple, many old people from the valley heard the sounds of the religious instruments for the first time in their life. Furthermore, many young people, and every elder member, took the oath from Tsugla Lopen to refrain from hunting and killing wild animals – a skill and way of life they inherited from their forefathers. Now, a twice-monthly Lhamo Tsho-ja is conducted with households taking turns.
Traditionally the Oleps practiced shamanism and animism, and this continues in some forms till this day. And here, I have been very respectful not to force anyone into one or the other spiritual practices. As Buddha said, I can only show the way.
In 2020, when the pandemic hit and we were all stuck, the Rukha Lama, Ugyen Tshering, and I initiated another temple to be used as Tshokhang, so as to turn the first temple into a Neykhang (place for protector deities) and dedicate it solely to Palden Lhamo. I also built an altar with 21 Taras for my daughter and grandson whose birth deity is Tara. In 2022, the tshokhang was consecrated by Gangtey Rimpoche, who also presided over a three-day Tshechu with mask dances – the first one to be instituted in lower Sha region.
The blessings of Palden Lhamo and Tara are evident. Rukha has been receiving bountiful harvest, in general, and the families who were solidly behind the temple project are having a fulfilling time with their children doing well with their life.
And the story continues..
From going hungry to building a better life for themselves and their children, to temples and hosting the first Tshechu in the region, the Oleps have come a long way in less than two decades. It has been close to an economic and social miracle – a case study in development management. The credit fully goes to the people who believed in themselves and were ready to work hard.
Along the way the State also provided the valley with a power-tiller road (2011) upgraded to a farm road (2018), electricity (2019), and mobile phone network (2023). From a two-day treacherous hike the road to Rukha has been reduced to an hour-long pleasant drive from the Wangdue – Tsirang highway.
I offered three butter lamps in a new large Karmi Khang that a family from Rukha had bought in the memory of their father, who passed away a few months back. It arrived on the same day I landed there. I prayed that the people of Rukha continue on their path and be a part of this small great nation, as it moves confidently into the future.
They say you cannot take anything with you when you die. This is not true. You will carry with you the good and bad karma and the merits and retributions you accumulated. And more importantly, you will also leave behind the memories of you in people whose lives you made some difference.
So, as you breathe in the Dragon Year 2024, I invite you all to take a moment to reflect on a few questions. How many thoughts and prayers (moelam zangpo in Bhutanese) have you sent to others? How many smiles have you brought in someone else? How many lives have you touched through your small or big works?
As a Mahayana Buddhist, these should be the questions of your life – and the greater meaning of a pilgrimage.
(Itinerary of my pilgrimage – Semtokha Dzong (Thimphu), Dobji Dzong (Paro), Lhakhang Karpo (Haa), Punakha Dzong (Punakha), Mebar Tokchoe (Zhemgang), Lamga and Rukha (Wangdue)
The third leg of my New Year Pilgrimage 2024 took me to Mebar Tokchoe temple in Kheng Kikhar in Zhemgang where my teacher #3, Dorje Phagmo Rimpoche (popularly known as Khandro Dorje Phagmo) has established a nunnery called Ngajur Pemachophelling.
I conducted a Drolma Yuldhog, which literally means “Obstacles removing Tara ritual”, which is considered as the king of all rituals. While one could conduct the Drolma Yuldhog at one’s home or at other sacred places, for me there is no better place than here.
First, Khandro Dorje Phagmo is considered as the emanation of Jetsun Drolma (Tara). Second, Mebar Tokchoe temple is believed to have been established by Monmo Tashi Khyidron on the advice of Guru Padmasambhava to pave the way for the success of Samye monastery construction in Tibet. During the same endeavour, Guru is believed to have advised King Thrisong Detsen to conduct Drolma Yuldhog to clear the obstacles standing in the way in the establishment of Samye monastery. And third, the invocation of the blessings of Tara done by nuns is believed to yield better merits.
So, there are lots of reasons – both religious and historical – that make this place special for a Drolma Yuldhog. I commission this ritual twice a year – once after the winter solstice and one after the summer.
It is always a sublime and blissful moment to be here. To paraphrase the some lines from the rituals:
“May you be free from the Seven Internal and Six External Sources of diseases. May you be protected from all negative energy. May you all be firmly on the Path to Enlightenment”
Dorji Wangchuk 