The brilliant green paddy fields, the strong, rich colours of the womens' national dress, the red robes of the monks- it all felt so much like home when I landed in Paro. Of course it is not home and could never be home, nor do I want it to be.
The plane left Bangkok fairly empty, in Bagdogra it filled up. From the tarmac we could see the mountains of Bhutan across the plains of India, the clouds of the rainy season swirling around in shades of white and grey, piling up and sweeping away to glimpses of the Himalaya.
I was vibrating with excitement or perhaps it was the black tea. Descending into Paro is dramatic, I found it even more so with the clouds. So different to to clear blue skies of winter and the stark paddy fields of January.
That odd feeling of never having left overtook me immediately as I worked my way through immigration with my new colleagues, visas not quite correct, time spent explaining to officials, signing for money exchanged and paying entry taxes. Meena was there to greet the teachers and Palden my dear teaching friend from Chukha, was thereto greet me. It was overwhelming and I loved it all.
The day moved to Thimphu, where it was hot and cloudy, sunny and windy. Lunch at Nancy's - delicious of course. Stories of years past teaching in Bhutan and hopes for the reading program.
Back in the hotel I did not want to let my heavy, weary body pull me into sleep, for fear of being awake all night. I convinced Gina and Aldo, a teaching couple from Toronto, to go for a walk before dinner. In the monsoon. Refreshing and muddy.
Indian dinner at the New Granf Hotel - Matt and Lucy introduced me, Rob and Jon both ate there with me.
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I am now sitting on my back alley balcony in a wicker chair, wrapped in a plaid wool blanket listening to the chorus of dogs barking and howling, rendering the night sleepless at this point.
Despite the shiny new cars, new buildings and rapid construction, some things have not changed here in Bhutan.
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