Getting There; the Carpet and the Hair Fixer; Our Home; The Sunday Market; Bread, Cakes and Beer; The Chicken, the Dog and the Bandage; Power, Meat and Leopards; Rattan "Rats" Subba; School; Visitors; Sports Fishing in Sama Homa;

Hootoksi Tyabji

Getting There

In December 1980, Robert and I, Michel, Farhad, Adil, Rajamma (our maid), Akbar (our black Lab), Margaret & Schroder (our two turtles), and a mountain of luggage boarded the train in Delhi for Siliguri in West Bengal. We covered 1,471 Kms in over 30 hours and drove another 167 Kms to Phuntsholing, the border town in Bhutan, where we spent the night. The next morning, we drove another 6 hours up winding, bumpy mountain roads to Thimphu, our new home in the clouds for the next 4 years.

A good friend from Delhi, Sanjay Acharya along with Kinlay Dorji from the Ministry of Information in Bhutan, were at the railway station in Siliguri to meet us. Kinlay’s welcome smile turned into a nervous twitch as he announced that the Royal Government of Bhutan had sent him to pick us up in a Mahendra Jeep and a VW Beetle car! We squeezed into the two small vehicles and our goods and chattel had to follow a few days later.

Among all the images that flash through my mind of that two-day drive to Thimphu, the one of Akbar sitting on Robert’s lap with his head out of the window, his ears flying in the wind, mouth open and tongue rolling, enjoying the cool, crisp mountain air is the one I remember most vividly!

The Carpet and the Hair Fixer

For the first few weeks after we arrived, we were guests of the Government who put us up at the prestigious and only hotel at the time in Thimphu, The Bhutan Hotel.

We had a suite of rooms, beautifully furnished with ornate, carved wooden furniture and a very expensive wall to wall carpet with dragons all over it. We settled in easily with Rajamma, Akbar, and the two tortoises; Sanjay and Sonya our good friends from Delhi, had also arrived in Bhutan to work around the same time that we had, and they were staying in the room next to ours at the hotel; next to their room was Nataji.

Nataji was Robert’s “find” from Delhi, a do it all, fix it all Sardar (Sikh) technician who was hired to help set up the new UNICEF office in Thimphu. Robert was the only UN person in all of Bhutan at the time.

Soon after we arrived, we were invited to dinner by the Chief Justice of Bhutan Dasho Benji Dorji. We left the children under Rajamma’s care and on our return at one in the morning, we found her pacing agitatedly outside the door, very much awake. She was clearly distressed and breathlessly related what had happened soon after we left the hotel.

Rajamma and the children went to bed soon after we left and about an hour later, Sonya and Sanjay smelled smoke outside their room and went to check. They were very alarmed to see smoke coming from under the door of our suite! They managed to wake Rajamma to discover that she had left some nappies to dry across a chair under which was an open electric rod heater. Akbar’s tail had knocked the chair over and the nappies were smoldering on the heater which had fallen face down on the carpet and had burned a big hole in it.

I still get goose bumps when I think of what could have been, and thank God for Sanjay and Sonya who had clearly saved the situation! The children slept through it all and the carpet was doused with water and stopped smoldering; but what were we to do about the hole in that fabulous plush carpet? We were guests of the Government and treated as VIP’s about to take on a new assignment in their beautiful country. This was a terrible way to begin!

We woke up Nataji who gazed at the charred carpet for a few minutes and then smilingly said: “Don’t worry, this is no problem, I can fix it!” He strode into his room and returned with three razor blades and a large bottle of hair fixer which Sikhs use to keep their long beards in place. He gave Rob and me a razor blade each and the three of us spent the rest of the night shaving wool from the back of the carpet around the edges of the room. When we had collected enough of this fluff Nataji applied hair fixer on the charred hole and painstakingly arranged the wool fluff over it to cover the damage. As dawn broke, we were done, and the carpet was fixed (pun intended).…you could not see the damage unless you went down on all fours to look; the carpet had been perfectly restored!

Our Home

We rented a beautiful, traditional farmhouse on the upper edge of town with two acres of land around it, forested slopes behind, and farms stretching to the river below.

The house had a wooden frame with walls made of mud, and windows cut out and painted in traditional Bhutanese style. The roof had shingles on it but unlike traditional farmhouses where maize and wheat were left up in the loft to dry, ours was closed off with a false ceiling.

The house was two stories high with an external, covered wooden staircase. Upstairs was a small, cozy living room with a little study on the side that looked out onto the majestic mountains. The study had a bukhari (old-fashioned wood-burning stove) that only heated the room and part of the top floor as long as the fire was on! The children shared a bedroom and ours was next to theirs, with an attached bathroom. There was a bathtub that had been trucked all the way from India especially for us. Our landlord, Lympo Dawa Tshering, the foreign minister of Bhutan, felt it was important that he provide us with a bathroom with a bathtub in it!

The kitchen was attached to the outside of the house so food had to be carried into the dining room through the main door. It led into a narrow passage with a dining room and toilet on one side and a room which we converted into a play-room for the children which they hardly used as they spent all their time outdoors!

We had a lot of land surrounding the house where we planted delilah, gladiola, sunflowers and daisies. One part of it was covered with wildflowers, mostly pink cosmos! Robert and the children built a pond for our ducks and we planted a field of corn which got raided by black bear who only ate the tender kernels and trashed the rest. We did not see them but saw their footprints all over the field the morning after their raids!. We had bumper crops of asparagus, radish and potatoes which were easy to grow.

The Sunday Market

Fresh produce was only available once a week at the Sunday Market. The produce came on trucks mostly from India If you missed getting your fruit, vegetables and meat on that day, then you had to do without for the rest of the week! One could also find yak butter and churpi (dried cheese), wool, trinkets, prayer beads and prayer wheels, swords, muskets, statues, old coins and paintings.

The Sunday Market was a social event and the highlight of the week for many. It was also a good place to pick up news and gossip from all over town!

Bread, Cakes and Beer

The Swiss Bakery run by a Swiss gentleman, was a popular hang-out spot in downtown where the coffee and cakes were good, and the ambiance was perfect! Next door to the bakery was a “Thongba Dive,” a little place that served a wonderful millet brew! There was nothing like thongba on a cold day! It was prepared and served in a bamboo mug filled with millet, and a bamboo straw. The straw had slits at the bottom to filter out the millet grains and allow only the freshly brewed beer though. As you sipped and the level went down, hot water was poured in from the top. One could keep refilling and drinking until the brew became too diluted; a few of these could keep you warm all evening!

The Chicken, the Dog and the Bandage

Soon after we moved into our farmhouse in Thimphu, we acquired three stray dogs, a cat, half a dozen ducks, a chicken and a fighting cock rescued from the Nepali labour camp nearby. His aggressive nature soon obliged us to return him to the battlefield! One of our chickens hatched a duck’s egg and seemed quite miffed when her chick grew webbed feet! And then there was this one hen who is the star of this story.

Each animal had its own individual quirks and traits, except for our Labrador Akbar, who undoubtedly was the saint among them. As his name suggests, he had a regal bearing and an incredibly kind, patient, tolerant and compassionate nature. He loved the world and all living things in it and handled everyone with his special brand of care and consideration.

Bhutan is a Buddhist country where everyone eats meat, but nobody will slaughter an animal. We went to the weekly market on Sunday mornings, to buy meat that came up from India, and live chickens that we had to slaughter ourselves if we couldn’t find a Nepali kancha (an affectionate term used to indicate a younger brother) to do it for us.

One Sunday morning at the weekly market friends from Australia bought two chickens for a curry. Greg knocked them on the head amidst loud wailing and protests from his two young children. He tied their legs and lowered them into a pot of boiling water but one miraculously flapped it's wings and Greg pulled it out just in time to save its life! Taking this to be a sign of divine intervention, her legs were untied, and she became the household pet for the next couple of years until it was time for the family to leave Bhutan. They figured our "zoo" would be a safe place for their chicken and soon Chook (that was her name) joined our menagerie with a promise from us that she would never be eaten!

Chook settled in very nicely and laid us some fine eggs. There was only one problem we had with her and that was trying to get her to understand that she should not peck and eat form Akbar’s bowl while he was eating.

The other creatures large and small had long realized this and so got used to waiting for Akbar to finish his meal before picking his bowl clean. But with Chook no amount of shooing from us or growling and snapping from Akbar worked. She would rudely push his head aside to make room for herself at the bowl. She must have believed herself infallible, but one day her luck ran out and the inevitable happened! Akbar snapped at her and all hell broke loose!

It happened on a Sunday. Rob and I were upstairs when we heard this hysterical crying and wailing from the children with Rajamma (our maid) shouting above the din. Rushing downstairs, we saw Chook standing on one leg looking deeply sorry for herself with her stomach and intestines spilled out of the gash in her side and lying on the ground around her! Akbar had disappeared in fright.

Without a word, Robert scooped up Chook and her bits and marched upstairs to our bathroom with the lot of us trailing behind. He placed the dazed and dying bird in the basin and stuffed her bits back into her, then poured half a bottle of hydrogen peroxide over the mess and bound her tight with a long gauze bandage! I was certain she wouldn’t make it through the night, but she did! Not only did she make it, but she was back the next afternoon peck, pecking away on one leg at Akbar’s food while he ate!

Now the story does not end here. A week later, Farhad (always the first to notice the slightest change in any animal or bird) reported to me that Chook had something hanging from her beak, and it was not a worm! On closer inspection it turned out to be a bit of bandage. Off she was carried into our bathroom again by an irate Robert who pulled and pulled and pulled out the yards of bandage that she had swallowed!

Chook was not at all harmed by this major mishap. Robert theorized that the action of pulling out the bandage had bottle-brushed Chook’s insides, rearranging and thoroughly cleansing them! Whatever the truth, she laid the finest eggs and continued pecking around Akbar as he ate his food at his bowl!

Power, Meat and Leopards

We were probably one of the few if not the only family in Thimphu to own a chest freezer and whenever Robert was in Phuntsholing or Siliguri for work, he would come back home with a trunk full of meat which we froze.

Once when the electricity went off for more than 24 hours and Robert was out of town, I decided to try and save the meat from rotting by hanging it outside our front door on the first floor of the house. It was freezing cold so I was certain it would keep better hanging outside than in a freezer that wasn't functioning!

In the dead of night, there was a huge commotion downstairs. The chickens, ducks, dogs, cats all started making a noise and then suddenly there was dead silence. It was eerie to say the very least! A moment later Akbar who was in the bedroom with me charged out and started barking and whining; I held him by the collar, turned on the landing light outside and opened the front door and in that instant I saw a full grown leopard who bolted with the light and was gone in a flash!! He had been attracted to the smell of the meat! I quickly put it in the freezer and thankfully the electricity was back the next morning so we were saved from having to throw it all out!

Rattan “Rats” Subba, our Kancha

Lyonpo Dawa Tsering, our landlord and the Foreign Minister of Bhutan, was a wonderful, humble man who became a particularly good friend. He enjoyed coming to our house for a cup of tea after he had been on his evening walk in the hills around. He would smilingly watch me getting frazzled with the children and I always rememher his prophetic words to me one evening which make me smile to this day. He said “Hootoksi, remember: small children, small problems; big children, big problems!”

Rajamma wanted to go back home to Kerala in the second year we were in Bhutan and so Lyonpo suggested we hire Ratan Lal Suba (whom we affectionately called Rats) to work for us. Rats was a Nepali who had spent all his life outdoors in the mountains and had been working for Lympo on a construction site. He was simple minded, honest and child-like and had never worked in a home or done housework before.

I was unable to teach him to do housework or to cook, he had no appetite or aptitude for either! He often ironed only half of a shirt and when I asked why he didn’t finish it, he would say “I got tired of ironing, so I started something else.”

One day I heard Rats talking loudly in the garden. I popped my head out to see who was there but found nobody, so I asked him who he was talking to. “My shoes” he said as he proceeded to scrub them at the tap. “I am telling them not to run away when I set them in the sun to dry as I have spent a lot of time and energy cleaning them. So, I am instructing them to stay put!” Rats was a part of our family in Bhutan and he loved playing with our children!

Behind our house and up on the hill there was a Nepali labour camp where people lived in tents and were extremely poor.

One day when we came home from work, we found Michel, Farhad Adil and two of their Bhutanese friends sitting at the top of our long driveway with a mat spread out in front of them. On it were all sorts of things which looked like they were from our house. On closer inspection I saw pots and pans, cutlery, crockery and some of our clothes. There was a cluster of Nepali Labourers snapping things up for a few ngultrums! Fortunately, we had arrived at the start of this “bazaar” and managed to shut shop. Michel, Farhad, Adil, Kinlay and Phunshog had been collecting funds for poor children, inspired by their papa’s work at UNICEF!

School

Michel and Farhad attended the Lungtenzampa Primary School. Their uniform, the traditional gho, was quite challenging to put on them in the beginning but I soon got adept and quick at it!

The gho is a long robe made of traditional woven wool with colourful motifs; the uniforms had red and black checks. It is hoisted at the waist and tied with a woven fabric belt called a kera so that a spacious pocket is formed at the waist into which all sorts of things are placed, from books and files to lunch packed in a bangchu, dried cheese to munch on during the day, or even to the fish you may have just caught!

Visitors

Visitors to Bhutan were few and far between. The government restricted the number of foreign tourists who were allowed in. There was very little tourism infrastructure and the country wanted to maintain its pristine culture and biodiversity, so only 200 visitors were allowed per year and they had to pay a hefty daily fee for the privilege. Indian citizens were allowed to visit with a visitors pass that was available at the border.

In the four years that we were in Bhutan we had few visitors. My parents were the first to visit followed by my sister Shehernavaz and her partner Shannon, cousins Navaz and Gitanjali, with her two boys Rahul and Akshaye from Bombay, Robert’s uncle Najim who lived in Calcutta came with his granddaughter Judy, a Canadian citizen visiting him at the time, and Sinia and Jer and Robin all good friends.

Navaz, Gitanjali and the two little boys made the arduous journey to Phuntsholing from Bombay and then came up on the local bus, a 6 hour drive along winding roads with people, chickens and goats! They and our three boys (ages 11-3) put on a wonderful skit for us. They wrote, rehearsed and produced it complete with costumes and false beards to our amazement and delight. Today, both Rahul and Akshaye are well known Bollywood actors; were the seeds of their careers sown in Bhutan?

Together they created the script, the costumes and the props!

As for Uncle Najim, the conversation went something like this before he arrived to visit us

Hootoksi - So how is this gentleman related to you?

Rob - I’m not really sure!

Hootoksi – What is he like? When did you last meet him?

Rob - I don’t think I’ve ever met him.

Hootoksi - Is he a young man?

Rob - No, quite old I think. Retired, so he must be elderly. Look babe, I don’t know anything about him except that he is a stubborn chap. He insists on driving up in his ancient Fiat car!

Hootoksi – (Incredulous) His car won’t make it! The roads are too steep and bumpy for an old Fiat.

Rob – I warned him, but he insists the car has given him great service and will continue to do so. I also told him that the phones often don’t function and that as we both work, neither would be able to drive to rescue him should his car pack up!

Hootoksi - So, what did he say?

Rob - He laughed and said 'See you in Thimphu! I’m bringing my granddaughter Judi, who is a Canadian citizen around 17, I think! I won’t bring her passport as I don’t have a visa for her so I’ll just tell them she is my grandchild. Don’t worry about anything.”

So here we were, expecting an "uncle" and a "niece" we had never met or known. They did not arrive on the expected date, but evening of the next day. They made a grand entrance into Thimphu on the bed of a lumbering old TATA truck! The Fiat was perched on top of the flat bed with Najm sitting inside the car at the wheel and Judi beside him! As we had predicted, his old car had sputtered to a halt somewhere along the steep mountain road, and true to his word, Uncle Najm did not bother us for help. Being the wonderful, adventurous, resourceful soul that he was, he convinced a truck driver to give them and his disabled car a ride, and so he arrived in grand style with a smile and adventure written all over his face!

It was a delightful and memorable visit and we grew to love Uncle Najm who remained young at heart till the day he died in his late nineties! While he was with us, he always carried a half pint of rum in his jacket pocket, which he would bring out ceremoniously in the middle of the day for an enjoyable drink.

For much of his adult working life Uncle Najm had been an engineer with India’s Eastern Railway, which to some extent explained his adventuresome, gung-ho nature. Click Here to read about Uncle Najm's railway career.

Uncle Najm taught us the value of family ties and his cheerful spirit always radiated outwards and touched us in ways we will not forget!

We were so fortunate to have spent four glorious years in this beautiful country with its pristine forests, sparkling streams, clear skies, and breath-taking views.

We went as often as we could on picnics with the children, camping, walking, fishing and drinking in the abundance of the natural beauty around us. We lived without any kind of fear, there was no crime and people we kind, loving and caring wherever you went and in whatever circumstances you found them.

But all good things must end. Bhutan influenced and touched us like no other place ever has and we left with it forever embedded in our hearts and minds!

Sports Fishing in Sama Homa, 8 - 13 August 1983

The time had come for us to say goodbye to Kusum and Salman Haider, good friends of ours who were leaving Thimphu for good on their way to another diplomatic posting. Salman, Indian Ambassador in Thimphu (1980-1983) and Kusum his lovely talented wife, were much loved by the Royal Family and the people of Bhutan and consequently there was an endless round of farewell parties for them to which we were invited.

Bhutan has never been colonized, although attempts were made by the British. It is landlocked with Tibet in the north and shares a 605 Kms border with India in the west, south and east. It mostly enjoys good bilateral relations with India, its largest trading partner. When we lived there in the early 80’s, India dictated its foreign policy and maintained a large Military Training presence (IMTRAT) in the country. Consequently, Indian Ambassadors wielded a lot of power and influence which was not always diplomatically dispensed or received.

Salman and Kusum were quite different. They were sensitive and caring and never regarded themselves above anyone else, diplomats in every sense of the word! Salman loved the outdoors, fishing, hiking and sport, and he often played tennis with the King; Kusum was a well-known dramatist and produced and directed the first English theater production - Rashomon - in the country. She was a favorite of the Queen Mother and other princesses.

As a special farewell treat for them, His Majesty ordered his two uncles, Dasho (Honorific title endowed by the King on highly placed officers) Rimp and Dasho Lenny to organize a mahseer fishing expedition to Sama Homa, the private and most prized spot for mahseer fishing, at the exclusive cottage of the King. We were very honored to be invited by Kusum and Salman to join them, and special arrangements were put in place for our children to be escorted along with our maid Rajamma, to visit the Manis National Park while we accompanied our friends on this exciting Royal adventure to which the children were not invited!

All fish in Bhutan belong to the King and fishing is allowed only with special permission. Any fish caught must be put back into the river. Golden mahseer is one of the eight auspicious Symbols of Bhutan, signifying happiness and peace. Today, Golden Mahseer is a protected species; when we went on our expedition, that was not the case! It is an exceedingly difficult fish to catch and requires great skill on the part of the angler! Mahseer can weigh between 40-50Kgs and the largest one caught to date was 9 ft long!

Our family drove from Thimphu to Phuntsholing where we met the rest of the group. When we arrived, we were told that the bridge to the Manis Game Sanctuary had been washed away, and so the children could not go there. Instead, they were put up at the Royal Indian Guest House just outside Phuntsholing with a retinue of helpers and companions to cater to every need and desire! They had Bal Bahadur, Dasho Lenny’s personal chef to cook special meals for them and there was an endless supply of ice cream, sweets, and entertainment both outdoors and in! They had so much fun that they seemed distinctly disappointed to see us 5 days later when it was time for us to pick them up and take them home!

The excitement for our adventure began to mount at 4 o'clock the next morning in the lobby of the Druk Hotel. There was Dasho Lhendup Dorji, Dasho Ugen Dorji (Rimp) and his wife Lhaden, Kusum and Salman, Jack a good friend of His Majesty who told us wonderful stories of their adventures together, Jigme, the nephew of Ashi (Princess) Tesla who lived in Kalingpong, security staff of the princes in mufti, their personal assistants and Tashi Gumpo also from Kalimpong who carried the title of “court jester.” Every time there was a lull in the days ahead, either one or the other Dasho would order him to “make us laugh” and Tashi would dutifully tell us a joke or burst into song! As always, he was terrific!

We drove in a convoy of three cars from Phuntsholing to Kalikhola, 362 Kms. It took us seven hours on narrow, winding roads to get to our destination, a small guest house where we spent the night. In the afternoon we wandered around the village and went down to a clear and sparkling stream, which some of us bobbed around in. That evening we listened to wonderful stories from Dasho Lenny and Jack, heard Jigme sing, drank copious amounts of liquor and got to bed at 2.30 in the morning to be woken up again at 4 AM to continue our journey onward.

We drove from Kalikhola to Kerabari where the road petered off and there was only a dirt track going up into the mountains. At a pre-arranged spot, there was a retinue of people (around 25-30) waiting for us with camping gear, large cooking utensils, firewood, blocks of ice, vegetables, fruits, cereals and pulses, crockery, cutlery, crates of beer, bottles of spirits and champagne! All of this was packed on ponies and donkeys, and in addition there were horses for us to ride on. The horses were familiar with the steep and winding pathways we had to traverse and they ambled along for four hours till we got to Sama Homa, His Majesty’s idyllic cottage which sat in the midst of the most beautiful scenery.

Salman, Kusum, Rob and I had the two small bedrooms, Dasho Rimp and Lhaden had their tent and Dasho Lenny had his pitched in the garden outside.

That evening we wined and dined, were entertained by Tashi Gumpo whose rendering of the song “Rosemary” has made him famous among the Royal Family. We played gin rummy and enjoyed each other’s company, went to bed and were woken up in the morning by Jack serenading us with a song!

After a sumptuous breakfast Dasho Lenny and Robert escorted the three of us women to the beautiful Drangme Chu also known as the Manas river, while Salman, Dasho Rimp, Jack and some others went upstream to fish.

Robert swam while Kusum. Lhardin and I sun-bathed on the rocks and drank gin and tonics that were served to us all morning on trays!

Dasho Lenny lay sprawled across a giant rock and was massaged with oils by his personal masseuse!

The fishing team had an exciting morning and after quite a chase and a struggle, Salman caught a 30 lbs Mahseer which once admired, was released back into the river from where it had been caught!

That evening we celebrated “THE CATCH” with bottles of champagne and a delicious Bhutanese dinner of Ema Datshi (chilly & cheese), Jasha Maru (spicy chicken), Phaksha Paa (pork with red chilly), Momos (Dumplings filled with pork and vegetables) and our most favorite Bhutanese red rice.

Riging out of Sama Homa on our horses leaving this little bit of heaven I thought of the past few days. It was the trip of a lifetime and both Rob and I were so thankful to our friends who had included us in this exclusive, exciting experience. We will never forget the fun and the laughter, the natural beauty of our surroundings and the rubbing of shoulders with Royalty who were no different from the kind uncles and aunts we had grown up with in our families!

On the last part of our journey back to Phuntsholing from Kalikhola we had a full police escort all the way.

On the 13^th August Kusum and Salman’s last day in Bhutan, Dasho Rimp hosted a wonderful farewell lunch for them at the Druk Hotel in Phuntsholing and our children were especially invited (the only ones there) along with over one hundred guests from the town.

Around two in the afternoon, the guests of honor were waved off in their car and driven to Bagdogra from where they would catch their flight to New Delhi. Tashi Gumpo the court jester, was dispatched with them to ensure there was no sadness lurking around in the car!

Salman ended his diplomatic career in New Delhi as Foreign Secretary of India from 1^st March 1995 to 30^th June 1997

We remain good friend to this day and treasure the memories of our times together in Kingdom of the Thunder Dragon.