Bhutan Jomolhari Trek
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When was the last time you considered taking a vacation– just you and your Dad? While some may have great father-daughter relationships, for most, it is not a first alternative. For those who have the option, I propose it is something you should consider–despite the title of this post.
Why Bhutan
I first found out about the Himalayan Kingdom of Bhutan via a friend in India. The snowy white peaks were breathtaking. I was captivated. Years later, when my Dad mentioned he wanted to climb in the Himalaya, I of course thought of Bhutan.
Unbeknownst to each other, we purchased the same book of the two leading Bhutan guide books. Those books sat on our bookshelves. For years. At one point, we decided to go when we both quit our jobs – something that seemed imminent at the time, yet never came to pass.
And then, he did actually quit his job. And I decided I should at least take a sabbatical before quitting mine. I reasoned with my Dad that the time was now or never. Actually, it didn’t seem to take much convincing. He was on board. If there was any dissent, he never told me…..
Himalayan Peace
Flying into Paro immediately overwhelms with peace. Surrounded by the Himalaya (abodes of snow), the Paro valley is beautiful. A milky glacial river cuts through the middle of yellow patchwork fields. The scattered traditional houses are well kept and tidy. The slopes surrounding are forested and beckon.
In the center of it all, Rinpung Dzong catches the eye. It looks every bit the fortress monastery it’s been for years. Bhutan still is a mysterious country that has for years maintained a strict isolationist policy. Only in the last few decades has it started to allow visitors. I felt I was in for a treat.
Land of the Thunder Dragon
The thrill of arriving into a new world doesn’t get old–particularly if there is a strong national dress! The men wear knee-legth robes, something like kimonos, but shorter, and more ‘A’ line. Their socks are comically identical knee length black socks.
So here I finally was, in the “Land of the Thunder Dragon”. A peaceful land, paradoxically named after a thunderous dragon. Perhaps a sign of what was to come.
My Dad and I arrived on separate flights. En route to the hotel, I found myself apprehensive. I was going to be rooming and even tenting with my Dad–yikes. I’d never spent much time communicating with him. He’d always been busy working and I had my share of pursuits too. We were too alike to fully appreciate each other. If I was honest I’d say I had developed a bit of a grudge.
I knew this trip was going to be a bit of a battle. I wasn’t sure why, nor what the battle was about.
Battle of the Mind
By the time I arrived at the hotel everyone was assembling to go see the city. There were 15 of us, including our two guides. I was offered a cup of tea.
Have You Ever ___?
My Dad walked in, still with his ‘devices’, working on getting internet connection. He explained that in his 30+ years of marriage, he had never gone a day without speaking to my mom. For a man in a different continent weekly, I found this incredulous. This would be his first trip with no connection.
Similarly, he had never not showered at least once a day. Growing up in Paraguay, he was accustomed to taking multiple showers each day. Now we were embarking on a NINE day trek during which there would be no showers.
Furthermore, he had never slept in a tent. Hold up, what?! He had spent days out on the northern Canadian ice roads, had been mountaineering on Cotopaxi, and had gone portaging in Boundary Waters Wilderness. How had he not slept in a tent?
Not only had he not been on a multi-day trek, he had never been off the grid! It was surely going to be a battle over fear.
Awkward Teenage Years
I had different issues. Mine revolved more around how to relate to my Dad. Perhaps I never outwore my teenage phase. The phase when you find yourself wanting to roll your eyes and not associate. I wondered if I had never gotten over it because I had never fought with my Dad in my teenage years. Or maybe it was because my personality was too much like his. I couldn’t pinpoint where the disdain was coming from.
Only later did I pinpoint the heart of the matter — fear. I was scared that my adult freedom was about to be jeopardized. My parents had moved from Spain six weeks prior, arriving in Phoenix just hours after I departed for my sabbatical gallivanting. They moved into ‘my’ house.
I was scared that when I returned home, I would find ‘my’ place ‘their’ place. I feared that the same teenage awkwardness and constrained feelings I felt while growing up would now be found in my ‘adult’ home. It was scary.
Bhutanese Mindset
Our group boarded a mini bus that would take us to the Paro Dzong for afternoon sightseeing. As we huddled around our guide in the large courtyard of the Dzong he explained the Bhutanese concept of Gross National Happiness.
Rather than emphasizing GDP, the Bhutanese have decided to focus on GNH- Gross National Happiness. As part of the four pillars of GNH, they have kept tourism low. Similarly, they have maintained a policy that 60% of the country remain forested. Bhutan is likely the only country where the King himself installed democracy and abdicated the throne.
Surely in this land of Gross National Happiness our fears should melt into peace – at some point…
The Battle of the Body
The next day was our first hike, a warm-up before the ‘real’ trek. We headed to Tigers Nest Monastery– THE spot to visit for anyone traveling to Bhutan. It is said to be the resting place of Guru Rinpoche, the founder of Tibetan Buddhism. It takes 1-2 hours to climb via a steep winding trail.
Face Plant
At the half-way point tea house, we stopped for coffee and I noticed that my Dad took some time to catch up with the rest of the group. I was surprised some of the older folk in the group were ahead of him. I reasoned perhaps he was getting older and somehow I had missed it?
Eventually everyone made it up to the Monastery and gathered, taking shoes off. My Dad had hiking boots on, so they took a few more seconds to unlace. I turned to follow the crowd in. The next thing I heard–THUD.
I looked back. My Dad was lying face down, head bleeding on the hard rock floor. I was stunned, not sure what to do or think.
A teammate was instantly at his side assessing the situation and making sure he was okay. As he rolled over, his face was stark white and I was terrified.
None of us knew quite what to do. We made him drink water and sit for a moment. Luckily the blood was stopped with nothing but a Kleenex and pressure. The team rationalized that it was altitude. I wasn’t so sure. He had recently come back from Quito, Ecuador where he had been at similar altitudes without issue.
Despite the scare, he made it down the mountain. He seemed to be coming back to his own, and was the first down the trail. We sat down in the parking lot shade to await the group.
Suddenly his heart started racing.
He had always had a heart arrhythmia that would set off every now and then. When younger, he would take care of it with a cold shower. A few years prior that had stopped working and he found a doctor who did a cardiac ablation. He hadn’t had a problem for almost ten years. Until now.
Portaloo Wonders
He convinced us to let him start the trek the next day. The guides stated that if he wasn’t feeling well after the first day’s trek, they would send someone back with him the next day.
On that first day of trekking one of the girls started throwing up. I was thankful my Dad seemed to make it okay. Grateful actually. It seemed anticlimactic to turn back so early.
That night – my dad’s first night in a tent – he did not sleep. It wasn’t the tent that kept him awake. The virus going around had taken hold and he spent the whole night going in and out of the tent with diarrhea and vomit.
Return to town was immanent. A second girl caught whatever was going around and when a guide and horse were readied to head back with her, I presumed we would go too.
Ugyen, our guide, calm as ever, presented the options. My Dad could turn back, or try one more day. The next camp would bring us close enough to at least see the snow covered Jomolhari.
Given the bait of seeing mountains, my Dad was resolute–he would press on. I was incredulous.
At this point, he had hit his head, his heart was gyrating, he had emptied his gut, had not slept, was in extreme altitude–and he was ready to go on.
While I knew the bait of mountains would inspire me forward too, I was scared for him and yet simultaneously grateful.
Never Sleep Again
Besides all the afore-mentioned setbacks, my Dad was still recovering from an awful cold that my Mom and sisters had passed on. The cold had lasted several weeks for all of them..
This meant that he was congested and snoring, and I was sharing a tent with him. I’m a light sleeper, so despite earplugs and sleeping meds, my sleep was also scant.
I was now fearful I would catch the cold. More debilitating was the fear I would never sleep again. I imagined he would be snoring in the room beside me at home as well.– Maybe I blew things out of proportion.
Somehow despite the scares, we continued to make it higher through the mountains. We made it to high yak country where the treeline melts to tundra scruff and the fabled blue sheep can be spotted. And then–miracle of miracles, we made it to Jomolhari Base camp.
It was glorious and we took an additional rest day there.
Unfortunately, It did not take long before I too was sick. The day we hiked out of base camp I was lagging and desperately sleepy. I didn’t want to talk and my throat hurt. I still wasn’t sure if it was just resentment flaring up, or if I was actually sick.
Bhutanese Healthcare: Harmony, Chilies & Cordyceps
Just as the Thunder Dragon is juxtaposed with a peaceful lifestyle, the Bhutanese deal with sickness via balance. They treat the cause of the illness, not the symptoms– acknowledging the spiritual realm. While I was surely getting sick, I knew I was going to need an intervention of the heart too.
That said, in Bhutan, sickness is likely to be offered chilies and cordyceps too. Dried red chilies can be seen hanging from every home window and they pepper their cheesy rice. Cordyceps on the other hand, are a fabled specialty from high in the Himalaya.
Our guide touted the benefits of cordyceps as the cure-all for everything. It’s a strange thing–fungus that grows out of the head of a caterpillar. When it’s in season, families go digging in the mountains for “gold”. (A single caterpillar’s “cordyceps” can be sold for upward of $20).
Surely cordyceps matched with spiritual intervention could help me get over this?
The Battle of the Spirit
We had arrived at Jomolhari Base camp, but still had two of the tallest passes to climb. Our work was cut out for us, and now, there was no turning back. It was time to trust the God who brings all things to completion.
A Song and Dance
Until now, we had had blue sky weather. This day however, was incredibly cold and foggy. The path leading up to the pass became nothing but scree. It was hard to know where to go.
By this point, my dad was in his element, enjoying the fog, taking pictures, and had more energy than me. Something had shifted. At the top of the Pass we waited for everyone. I felt like I was dying. I began to lay down to ‘sleep’ on the wet ground at every point I could.
Coming down the pass into the village of Lingshi we happened across a heated Archery match between two villages. Bhutanese archery matches are colorful. Targets are placed 140 meters apart and opponents jeer and attempt to distract as archers take their turns. If teammates perform well, they would do a little song and dance and slip a colored scarf into his belt.
How could we also not celebrate? My Dad had basically overcome death. We were actually making it through this trek! My Dad found some coke at a makeshift stand. Coke meant celebration. Yet at the same time, the coke helped calm his heart, which still wasn’t quite right.
Strava Proof
For the last and final climb over Yale La pass, the weather thankfully cleared, but that also meant it warmed up considerably. It was a steep grade, but in true fashion, my dad was a champ. He set his pace and moved ahead.
And guess what? We made it!
My Spiritual Battle
The last day of the trek was spent climbing out of the mountain canyon up to the road leading into town. Somewhere along that road, my Dad asked what I liked about Bayram, who I had recently started dating.
The first reason that came to mind conjured up a host of battling thoughts. Maybe it was the altitude? Maybe I was unearthing a root of bitterness? I told my Dad I’d think about it and get back to him.
Later that night, back in the comforts of Thimpu’s Shangri-La hotel, I told my Dad what had come to mind– Bayram “respected me”. I liked that. He valued both who I was and what I had accomplished.
BUT I also told my dad that one of the reasons I was feeling so be-grudging toward him, was I did not feel I had always been respected by him. It felt like the dumbest thing to say to a Dad who had always been incredibly loving, providing, and faithful. But there was some root to it, and I had to get it out.
He had just finished a strenuous trek in the grimmest of circumstances. His face was literally flaking from the stress and cold sores. And now I also made him cry.
I knew most of this was my own problem. My personality of always wanting to be lauded was coming out loud and clear. At the same time, somehow admitting and uncovering that root of my grudge was healing.
Neither of us had answers that evening. We were both too sick and too tired. We had fought many battles. I was grateful we would leave these battles there in the mountains.
Bhutanese Buddhism
All throughout our trip we came across multitudes of prayer flags fluttering on the hillsides offering up prayers. In general, the Bhutanese Buddhism advocates meditation and praying for the liberation from suffering for all beings.
In Thimphu we walked into a several day festival where all the monks were gathered to hear the reading of sacred texts for several days straight.
I wondered if their presence at these readings was working for them. Were they finding the peace they were seeking?
I don’t think peace is something we can attain on our own. No amount of chanting the sutras can get us there. It seems it is something that is done for us.
Remediation
Ultimately both of us had to get home for full healing. My dad needed a literal heart procedure, an ablation, so that his heart would stop racing. I needed a rest from the fear so that I could get over my cold and grudge. For me, it was a soul work surgery I needed. I needed to trust God.
Thankfully my dad’s heart ablation did the trick. And thankfully, I found that living with my parents again was not as bad as I had feared. In fact, it was great! Better than living alone.
We visited the land of Gross National Happiness, and instead, faced Battles that sanctified mind, body and soul.
“Now may the God of peace himself sanctify you completely, and may your whole spirit and soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. He who calls you is faithful; he will surely do it. “ 1 Thessalonians 5:23-24
We’re on Youtube
Our tripmate, Lachan, created a video of our trip for World Expeditions. It was his attempt to pay for his new camera (Great idea, and it worked!). He has some vivid footage of our trip. Look closely and you will see my Dad’s white hair and hear a few of my laughs.
Want to Visit Bhutan Yourself?
Bhutan is a hard country to get into. You can’t visit independently. You have to sign up with an official tour. The visas are expensive, upwards of $250 per day. The good thing is that the cost of the visa also covers the hotel, food, guide, activities, etc. So choose well! We went with World Expeditions since at the time it was a good option. I would recommend you do your homework and find the operator that will best meet your agenda, schedule, and tastes.
What to Pack? See what I brought with me
