Tangled trails
Jabdo Goenpa at the end of a narrow ridge above Paro valley, western Bhutan
Kuzu zampo la, y’all!
Thimphu valley, where the capital city is located, has a hiking guide, Mild and Mad Day Hikes around Thimphu, compiled by the Dutch natural resource conservation consultant Piet van der Poel, but no such guide exists for the Paro area.
Well-trod narrow trails – often no more than a footprint wide – thread through the mountains here, crossing cliffs and creeks. With no map or directional signs, local knowledge is critical.
A group of nine faculty and staff gathered by 8:30 this morning to hike to Jabdo Goenpa (or Gompa), a private nunnery, associated with the treasure revealer Terton Pema Lingpa, directly below the JSW campus.
It appears to be less than a mile away as the crow flies. However, in the crumpled terrain of Bhutan, getting there meant traversing along our side of the mountain to a sharp spur extending onto a narrow catwalk ridge leading to the temple with 360-degree views. (An alternative to our hike from the lookout spot on the road is to drive up from Paro town.)
Google Maps view of the distance from JSW School of Law to Jabdo Gompa, with the Paro Chu (River) below on the right, and the highway that leads to Thimphu, the capital following the river.
A clifftop meditation cave
Guru Rinpoche, who brought Buddhism to Bhutan in the eighth century and is revered as a second Buddha, mediated in a cave at the site overlooking a vast chasm. My friends clambered over a fence to walk along the edge of the cliff to the cave, but seeing the exposure and noting the slippery rocks, I elected to stay back from the cliff. This mediation spot where the Guru’s back was against the rocks gives the site its name as thob (pronounced jab) is back and rdo (pronounced do) is rock.
Wondering just how far below Guru Rinpoche’s meditation cave is
A statue of Guru Rinpoche (not the talking one described below, which is inside the temple), with butter lamps, above his cave
Tiny nuns
On this auspicious day – the fifteenth day of the Bhutanese month, coinciding with the full moon – a patron of the gompa had sponsored snacks for visitors. Thus, two young nuns led us into a tearoom with low bench seats for milk tea and tengma (flattened, toasted maize – like thick Cornflakes).
As the nunnery doesn’t receive government support and the nuns sometimes lack sufficient funds for their rations, we pooled our money so that we could give each of the twenty-five nuns praying in the lhakhang (main chapel) 100 ngultrum. We also planned to return with menstrual supplies and provisions from town.
Inside the lhakhang, nuns ranging in age from five or six to teenagers chanted prayers. One tiny nun seemed to be on the verge of falling asleep; her teenage mentor repeatedly propped her up. Another tiny nun played with her nu 100 note, rolling it into a spyglass as she chanted.
Inside the lhakhang (temple), the elder nun reminds the younger one to sit up straight
A talking statue
On the return hike, Sangay, who’d organized the group, as well as a delicious home-cooked picnic lunch, with abundant rice and multiple types of vegetarian curry, that materialized out of various backpacks, told me the story of the goenpa’s central figure.
The central statue on the altar is Guru Rinpoche. This particular statue was created by a virtuoso artisan who created only nine Guru Rinpoche statues, of which seven are in Bhutan. As such, the statue was highly covetable. The powerful statue is reputed to have spoken three times. Recognizing the value and power of the statue, the formidable Dzongpen, controlling the area around Paro as well as Paro Dzong, required the statue removed from the gompa and placed at Paro Dzong.
There, the monk caretaker noticed that the statue was always turned with its back toward the altar room, rather than facing the room. When the monk oriented the statue facing toward the room, he would return to find it with its back to the room. This seemed to be a bad omen, so the statue was hidden under the stairs.
Under the cover of night, in the days before electricity, a lama from Jabdo Gompa came to retrieve the statue. The statue spoke, guiding the lama to its location so that it could be returned to its home gompa. When the lama lifted the large statue, it was very light, and he was able to carry it back in a scarf.
When the statue was reinstalled in Jabdo Gompa, a group of people came from another temple and tried to remove it. When this group of ten tried to lift it, the statue was very heavy – they could not lift it or even roll it on logs. Again, the statue spoke, saying that it wanted to stay at Jabdo Gompa, so it has resided there since.
Statues are often said to have their own volition, to resist being taken from their home temple, and to insist on where and how they wish to be kept. Across Bhutan, I’ve heard several stories about statues being shifted away from their home temple, only to effectuate their own return, through flight or transportation by an ally.
These stories underscore the respect due to religious objects, places, and institutions, as well as the agency perceived to animate nonhumans and even objects. In a world in which many entities exert volition, it is essential to be thoughtful, patient, and aware.
Foraging for perilous peppers and fancy fungus
Rain moved in after the picnic, making the narrow trails slick. My running shoes lacked sufficient tread for the slippery conditions. It became clear to me how people or livestock could just disappear from trails in the thick forests – the drop-off is often tens to hundreds of feet. In the case of injury, attracting help would be difficult.
Everyone was prepared for the pelting rain with large umbrellas and long jackets. Note the traditional Bhutanese dress on the gentleman on the right — traditional dress is required to enter a temple or monastery. Everyone else’s is now stowed in their backpacks. The pink bags are full of foraged mushrooms.
Rains also meant edible mushrooms, including chanterelles, popping up in the oak forest. My friends foraged for mushrooms as well as a very strong pepper, reputed to have sent foreigners to the hospital, growing wild on trees.
Between the tightrope trails, the incapacitating peppers, and the plunging cliffs, nonhuman forces felt strongly evident, a constant reminder that humans are but one participant in the ongoing drama of the mountains.
Picking very tiny, very spicy peppers growing wild.
Tiny peppers drying in the sun at the nunnery
May the human and nonhuman forces treat you kindly until next time,
Tashi delek!
Jabdo Goenpa. The right side cliff face suggests the profile of a lion — or for those with more spiritual eyes, Guru Rinpoche