With a year of preparation, one small backpack, my camera and guidebook, I sat quietly beside my mother and sister, waiting for my plane to arrive. I had not yet realized that I would be spending almost a year entirely alone, but as I said goodbye and boarded the plane, nervousness began to set in. I spent the twenty-four hour plane ride tossing in my seat while trying to get a little sleep, talking to my Tipanese neighbor, and relishing the airplane food.

            I arrived in Thailand around eleven at night, shaking not only from hunger and fatigue, but also from the idea that I would be sleeping alone in the Bangkok airport. After claiming my luggage, I went to find a phone, so I could call my father. As soon as I heard his voice, I was struck by the fact that I was halfway across the world and partially crazy for what I was doing. I told him the flight went well and that I was okay. After I hung up, I found a table on the upper level where I spent the night writing in my journal and watching the people of the unfamiliar land. I wrote the following:

      

            As dawn slowly came and the airport rush began, I knew it was again time to continue my journey. Next destination: Kathmandu, Nepal. Sitting there waiting for the plane, I grew excited about the adventure I had begun. Sherpas ran around in their down jackets laughing, drinking whiskey, and making friends with all the anxious travelers. Everything seemed to fall into place.

           Arriving in Kathmandu was pretty amazing but a little hectic as I stood in the Customs line, suffering in the suffocating heat along with hundreds of other people. Once I was in the country and had my bags, I headed into the mad rush of taxi drivers and hotel advertisers outside. I went straight to the pre-arranged booth where a sure ride waited, but I ended up paying almost double (four dollars) what I should have paid. Next time I would know better. This quote from another traveler sums up my first ride through good ole’ Kathmandu:

            Upon my arrival at Sungawa Guest House, I was greeted by a pleasant cup of tea and wonderful people who would soon become my family and home base for the duration of my trip. I spent a week at the guest house getting accustomed to the time and culture. During the days, I toured Kathmandu valley’s historical sites and perfected my bargaining skills on the streets.

            At one point in history, the king of Nepal gave each of his three sons a piece of land. The gifts inspired a competition of building the most elaborate temples to determine who would be king and which city would become the capital. Kathmandu won out, but the other cities of Baktapur and Patan are, perhaps, more interesting, because they have preserved their historical integrity without the industrial growth of Kathmandu.

           The next ten days of my trip took me to a place virtually untouched--physically and culturally--by Western civilization. I had no idea exactly how remote it was until I saw the landing Bhutan’s only pilot was about to make. We waited about thirty minutes for the wind to die, then began the descent through the mountain valleys, over wheat fields and tall clumps of prayer flags, as you see in the picture here. And boy! were those prayers needed as we went screaming down the seemingly tiny runway. As we came to a stop, the door opened and the same thin, eight-thousand-foot air I recognized from my hometown in Colorado welcomed me. I knew immediately I was going to enjoy this rare opportunity to be one of the two thousand tourists allowed in Bhutan last year.

          Bhutan rests in the eastern portion of the Himalayas and has existed as a country only slightly longer than the United States. Its people fall into three ethnic groups. The Sharchopes inhabit the eastern region of Bhutan and are Indo-mongoloid in origin. Tibetans immigrated in the ninth century, and the Nepalese began settlement at the beginning of this century.

          Although separated by virtually impassable terrain, the people share the common religion of Mayahana Buddhism. Religious symbols and monuments can be seen displayed from the most densely populated valleys to the most remote mountain teahouses and way stops.

          Prayer flags blow in the wind and prayer wheels are turned to send forth the luck and well being of the Buddhist religion. Before entering the monasteries, we routinely walked the length of the wall, turning the prayer wheels in a clockwise motion. This is a picture of my guide and driver wearing the traditional "Kho," spinning the wheels before entering a monastery devoted to women who cannot give birth. It's believed that if these women spend the night here praying for fertility and sleeping under a phallic statue, they will be given the ability to conceive and will eventually be blessed with a child.

     

          Every Bhutanese home contains a small area with an alter and relics. This is where the family participates in prayer at least every morning. After prayer, men and women go to work on the farm or their government subsidized jobs. There is no gender differentiation, thus making Bhutanese culture radically different from those of its neighboring countries.

           Approximately 20,000 children are currently being educated in the public school system. Developed in the sixties to try to bring Bhutan closer to First World literacy, administrators designed both liberal art and technical schools that children of all ages attend. Upon my visit to the Thimpu art school, I was amazed at its drastically different approach to technique and subject matter from the approach I knew from my own art training. Rather than learning the classical styles of Europe and going on to create individualistic pieces of work, students were prepared to someday make exact replicas of Buddha and his teachings.

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