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.
