Martha, Martha, Martha

I still struggle to believe that it is 2 years since Martha died. We had big plans for today and were hoping to be in Trashigang (her old stomping ground) with the wherewithal to do another makeover of the beautiful prayer flag area near the old chorten below Dungtse Middle Secondary School, where her school posted those majestic, tall, white flags that memorialize not just a single life but also the impermanence of life and the cycle of rebirth, but that was not to be…

Ever since our arrival back in the kingdom this has been on my agenda. In fact, my desire to honour this departed soul just as we had done last year, and head east to do it was one of the first conversations I had with my current principal. Nonetheless it was not meant to eventuate.

Ian’s health issues required that we stay in Thimphu and avail of the best possible intensive physiotherapy treatment, involving ultrasound, TENS and retrograde massage, so here we are in the capital.

However, I am not one to give up or give in so first thing this morning while Ian was receiving treatment I hot-footed it into town to buy a set of prayer flags, to attempt to have them blessed and find out the most auspicious day to fly them. Matt and Lucy had already agreed to participate in our amended ritual and I was hoping that today would be an auspicious day despite the weather. Or maybe that should be because of it. I often forget rain is a good omen here.

This was an ambitious plan even for me as I have always left the blessing of flags to those, who have more intimate knowledge of the procedures. On this occasion, however it wasn’t possible, as I do not know any Dzongkha Lopens in Thimphu. I therefore simply decided I could manage it myself and set about doing so.

Having always lived in much more remote districts and towns in Bhutan, it didn’t occur to me that the capital would still be locked up tight at 9am on a Saturday. Only the tardiest of traders would open after 7am in the rural areas. As soon as I spotted the roller door security screens going up, I dashed into a traditional shop on Norzin Lam: the main street in Thimphu. No sooner had I made my purchase than my phone rang and alerted me to the fact that Ian’s session was already over and he was waiting in our prearranged meeting place near the ‘lakhang’ I thought most likely to be able to perform the necessary blessings: Zangdo Pelri Lakhang.

Once again, I found myself staring at a locked door but the presence of devoted locals spinning the prayer wheels made me think that I would be able to accomplish my mission and that the main hall would indeed open. Whilst circumambulating the compound I asked anyone I came across if they spoke English and within a very short space of time a kindly monk materialized and assured me that it would be no problem to get the required blessing. I also asked him about auspicious days and although he was quick to point out that the Rinpoche would inform me, he ventured that in his own opinion Tuesday, which happens to be Blessed Rainy Day and a significant holiday in eastern Bhutan or Friday would probably be most appropriate. Since the holiday coincides with the day Martha was cremated I thought that it seemed appropriate although I was a little disappointed.

After waiting quietly inside the hall, which was especially unlocked for me, my new monk friend deposited the flags and my donation at the bench in front of the seat of the Rinpoche, disappeared and then returned with a cup of tea for me and the news that the Rinpoche was just finishing breakfast and would arrive shortly. He indicated where I could sit to wait and I did exactly that. I was somewhat surprised and I am not sure if it was the expression on my face when he mentioned breakfast at 10.15am, that then prompted him to say that 5 hours of morning prayers had preceded breakfast, but I was actually delighted that it was going to be possible to get the blessing.

In the next 10 minutes monks began to appear and position themselves at the long line of benches to the left of the platform where the Rinpoche would sit.  One of them turned out to be the brother-in-law of the warden from my school and he knew all about Ian’s injury and me much to my astonishment. Several of them had a little English and greeted me as they passed and finally without any real fanfare 2 clarinets, 2 long horns and a drum sounded and the blessing was underway.

The flags were unrolled and prayers were murmured while the Rinpoche himself blew puffs of breath into them. He also sprinkled the flags with rice and the perfumed water that is often poured into the hands of devotees in lakhangs. Much to my amusement the peacock feather that is used to deliver this ‘holy water’ was also tapped on the head of the monk closest to the Rinpoche when he seemed to be nodding off. I have always enjoyed the way that elaborate rituals and celebrations can be punctuated with mundane daily acts and what seems to be tomfoolery. On this occasion I imagined that Martha would have got a kick out of that and could almost hear her chortle.

Just as I was beginning to wonder if this might take all day, having no real idea of the correct protocol, Rinpoche rolled up the flags returned them to the carry bag I had delivered them in and I was quietly escorted out. When I was leaving the monk who had graciously organized all this on my behalf informed me that today was a very auspicious day according to Rinpoche. Perfect!  I had to do at least one complete lap of the compound turning all the prayer wheels in gratitude before departing and felt that flowers in bloom despite the wintery, rainy weather was another good omen for us.

The choice of places in which to fly the flags was a bit bewildering given that Thimphu seems like such an urban environment compared to places I would otherwise have chosen. My immediate thought was Dochula but the roadblocks and weather didn’t auger well for that choice. Next to come to mind was the covered bridge leading to the weekend market but it did seem very commercial. After consultation with the resident lama in Ambient Café and confirmation with Lucy it was off to the BBS Tower, we headed. An odd choice in my mind but the requisite windy conditions, sounds of flowing water and mountain backdrop are all present so why not.

In the cold and wet conditions it was Matt who did the clambering and climbing to get the flags in position as well as having driven us all there and I am very grateful for the assistance and company. Maybe later in the year we will still be able to visit the east and drop by Phongmey to pay our respects and remember an eccentric and much missed old friend.

49th Day Prayers

Last week was eventful and exhausting with a high number of diverse events taking place.

  

I was deeply concerned that Martha’s brothers, John and Robert and a dear friend, Sigrid were in Bhutan and travelling east to be a part of the 49^th day ceremony and that all of us who live in this zone of the country would not be able to attend due to a prior commitment. Months ago we signed up to participate in the Sherig Century Walk and the 2 events clashed. In what can only be described as Bhutanese fashion a reprieve at the 11^th hour meant that it would be possible to be present at the ceremonies in Dungste Middle Secondary School and still do the walk.

This welcome news also set me thinking about what exactly we could say that would assist these people to make sense of what happened. I am not sure that I have managed to do that for myself yet. I have to admit that I had trepidations about actually meeting face to face. What did I really know? I wasn’t even there at the time!

Nonetheless I jumped at the opportunity to interact, which is my nature and after a long day at school on Wednesday November 7^th Ian and I stromped up the “hill” to the monastery guesthouse to meet them and Karma over dinner.

For us the prospect eating out in Bhutan is always somewhat daunting, as we are veggo and endless meals of chillies and cheese and rice is not our idea of a balanced diet. However we were surprised at the excellent meal that we shared and the affable and non-confronting exchanges that took place over that meal.

Having already sought leave from our respective schools the next day we were back up at the guesthouse well before we would ordinarily have arrived at school. I had volunteered to help Sigrid get into kira for the occasion and as it turned out also helped Karma dress the brothers.

It is no mean feat for someone unused to this clothing to get it on and persist with wearing it all day and I was impressed that they had all decided to take up that challenge on that particular day, given the emotional and unknown nature of what lay ahead.

I have been up to Phongmey several times now but this was a very sunny, blue-sky morning and the views, which are truly breath taking were even more so in the soft light of a spectacular Autumn morning. The harvest long finished in Rangjung was still underway and the fields were glowing gold with the ripened rice crop. This time of year is a photographer’s dream with the cool crisp clarity of the atmosphere. The cloudy and foggy scenes we arrived to in winter and the ever-darkening skies of summer have totally different light qualities but this is the season of stunning beauty.

The rituals and ceremonies of the day were reasonably familiar to me, though there were few unique touches. At this point in time, the tent erected on the school grounds, the chanting monks in the MPH, the offering of butter lamps, the constant supply of food and tea, the endless rounds of introductions and polite conversations punctuated with official duties, all seem exactly the way to honour the occasion but I was constantly wondering what the 3 chief guests were making of the whole scenario. There was a sudden realization that now I understand and can predict this culture so much better.

There were plenty of staff and friends gathered as well as the students and I felt that John, Robert and Sigrid were given the time they needed and wanted to ask questions and resolve concerns. I truly hope they felt the same way.

My heart soared when I discovered that we were really going to consecrate some of the huge white vertical prayer flags that fly from the upright poles. We see them everywhere. I love the majesty of these memorials and I have never seen the ritual of consecration before.

From the beginning of this tragedy I had hoped that a stand would be erected for Martha and they were. I can’t say I enjoyed stumbling through the undergrowth to get to the spot that was chosen or climbing back through the barbed wire fence in my best kira was very much fun. But I can say that the area with its wide vistas and ancient chorten, which is the exact view Martha would have had from her quarters, was clearly visible to the students from their hostels and tranquil and fitting. Now I want to go back and visit them one more time before we depart.

The day turned out to be so much longer than I expected as it included a second breakfast, lunch and dinner but it ended much like a wake with lots of friends, colleagues and dignitaries gathered together chatting and even laughing .

The long drive back to Rangjung in the dark gave me ample time to contemplate on the proceedings and feel a sense of closure.

Bless you Martha. Tashi Delek!

Photo essay: Martha in Bhutan

In the last week I have had more page views on this blog than ever before and I do not kid myself that it is because I write so well. I know full well that it is because people, especially in Canada but also in other countries, are keen to make sense of Martha's sad passing. With this in mind I have decided to post a blog of some of her time here. I know that it is brief but I hope it conveys some of the joy and adventure she experienced. 

Early days just weeks after she moved into her room next to the warden onsite at 

Dungste Middle Secondary School.

Our first real fun together was when she and Becky came down to Rangjung where we live for the King's Birth Anniversary public holiday. We all met at the half way point and then hiked down together from there: 16 kms for all of us in total and it was great.

On the suspension bridge just beyond the back gate to Rangjung Lower Secondary School.

I really got to know her and enjoy some down time with her when we all synchronised to be able to attend the book fair in Mongar together to buy books for our respective schools.

Martha was never one to do things in half measures and I

 just love these shots of her in in buying mode at the fair!

Not long after Sam Bythe the founder of Bhutan Canada Foundation hosted a dinner in Trashigang which several of us BCFers were able to attend though the notice was certainly late and we drifted in, in what can only be described as Bhutanese Stretchable Time.

There were also occasions when we all much to our surprise unexpectedly bumped into each other in what I like to call the "small smoke" of Trashigang town. Martha always chortled at that!

This shot is courtesy of Martin and at Burning Lake in Bumthang. She was torn between attending the BCF retreat and coming with Tim, Ian and myself to hike into Sakteng but she was very happy that she went with the majority of the BCF teachers and loved the retreat and hike they did.

The classes she taught waiting with anticipation at the cremation grounds. Dasho (the governor of Trashigang District)  is speaking to them

Her arrival from Mongar at the cremation grounds near Rangjung.

The BCF teachers and many but not all of the dignitaries present on the day.

The funeral pyre.

Nancy Strickland speaking to students who Martha taught.

The boy second from the right in the front row typifies the grief they felt. He was a special favourite of hers and I remember speaking with her about him at the sports meet at our school. I knew he would be there that day and when I approached him and gave him a photo of himself receiving at prize at that event, he said "With Madam Martha?" and looked at it and I instantly felt his disappointment that she was not in the photo.

Last night in Rangjung Monastery the 7 day memorial was held and we lit 1,000 butter lamps as is the tradition. I thought it was important that students were involved as that is why Martha was here and my home class XC jumped at the chance to accompany Ian and I. 

They had already held a ceremony at at school a couple of days ago but this time they collected money from many students in the school including their class to light this particular butter lamp that will burn for more than 2 months we are told.

After lighting the butter lamps last night at twilight in Rangjung in front of the monastery.

memorial prayers to Madam Martha

A special evening prayer session was held at my school tonight sponsored by my home class XC in honour of Madam Martha. They made hundreds of butter lamps and handed out candy and gum to the whole school too. I just love them!

I have been on the verge of tears all week and this morning when they announced that they would sponsor a special prayer session for Madam Martha beacuse today was an auspicious day I immediately agreed that Ian and I would attend. I am astounded by their sensitivity.

They organised for us to sit in seats of honour and immediately took to the task that they had set themselves. Class captain Karma Tenzin did himself proud. He is a boy whose reputation precedes him but tonight he proved the pundits wrong. He was calm and in control.


 The girls too played and active role and I know that would have pleased Martha. They all continued the chanting with haunting dedication and devotion even when the whole hall was plunged into darkness, as the power went out. No-one moved and the whole student body just reverted to what they knew by heart without missing a beat. Even Ian and I were able to recognise one of the prayers.

Wangda Gyeltshen gently led us though what we had to do and when, with poise and composure. Although I can rarely get him to speak in class, here he was in his element directing us with expertise.

Ian was impressed with their organisation and I loved that they knew how much it meant to me. We have become so close to each other. Last Thursday in class different students jumped to their feet to share their own interactions with Martha totally unsolicited. "She talks a lot." "And loudly." "She laughs all the time." She talked to me at the Dzongkhag sports meet." I had to ask them to stop for fear of bursting into tears. 

On Thursday the 7th  day memorial service will be held in Rangjung and I know that many BCFers would like to be able to participate but XC will be able to accompany Ian and I to the monastery in the evening. Then monks will do the chanting but we will all get to light butter lamps together again. I thought that it was really important that students were involved as that is really why Martha was here.


Just when I feel most likely to fall apart they are exhibiting their resilience. I envy them their rituals and faith.