A stone painting of a Buddhist Arhat or teacher ona stupa wall in Bhutan Spiritual heir to Padma Sambhava, “Lotus Born Guru of the Himalayas”, Pema Lingpa was one of five sovereign Himalayan Tertons or Treasure Revealers (there were over a thousand minor tertons). The impact of these spiritual masters reverberated across the pan-Himalayan region, including Bhutan, Tibet, Ladakh, Nepal, the former kingdom of Sikkim and, some believe, even Mongolia. Their specialty was unearthing ancient teachings from the landscape (including caves, lakes, cliffs and mountains) as well as their own “mindstreams” and those of their predecessors, often unlocking key texts written in undecipherable “fairy” or Dakini script. Often, the task of bringing back the ancient “lost” teachings required equal parts contemplation, inspiration and daring as well as physical feats (as when Pema Lingpa entered the burning lake in the mountains of central Bhutan, butter lamps in hand, reclaiming sacred scriptures that inspire to this day). Our resident teacher and traveling companion Sarah Harding will help us navigate the series of mystic revelations and teachings that are his legacy as we traverse the landscape of his birth. Our journey takes us along the same paths he walked, through hidden villages and into shrines that have not changed much since his lifetime in the 15th century. We stop at his home in Tamshing, catch a performance of one of his famed mask dance compositions, learn about his spiritual legacy from Sarah and Bhutanese lamas and perhaps, even, receive an audience with his current living incarnate. Along the way we stop to admire the Himalayan scenery, poised lushly between the afterglow of spring and the summer rains soon-to-come. Our mornings and evenings will include meditation, teaching and discussions with Sarah, who is also the author of Creation and Completion: Essential Points of Tantric Meditation, available from Wisdom Publications. ITINERARY IN BRIEF Days 1&2: Arrive in Paro. Explore the many exquisite temples along the valley floor. Study and discussion~basic introduction to Pema Lingpa and his life. Days 3 & 4: Transfer to the capital and browse the markets. ~General introduction to reincarnation philosophy and the contemporary work and influence of secular and spiritual heirs of Pema Lingpa. Hike to the Tango Buddhist College or the Chari "Iron Mountain" Retreat. Days 5 & 6: Transfer to Wangdue valley with a stop at the Dochula Pass. ~An account and discussion of Princess Pemasal's dialogue with the Lotus Born Guru regarding the prophesies surrounding the birth of Pema Lingpa. Corollary discussion~the status of women in Vajrayana Buddhism. Explore Punakha Valley, including the Hall of 100 Pillars and the Yuelay Namgyal Pagoda. Day 7: Transfer to the Phobjikha Valley and Gangtey Monastery, home of the Gangtey Trulku Rimpoche, current living emanation of Pema Lingpa. Day 8: Walking tour of the Phobjikha Valley floor and a visit with monks at the monastery. Possible audience with Gangtey Rimpoche. Day 9: Transfer to Bumthang Valley. Day 10: Visit Tamshing monastery, birthplace of Pema Lingpa, with meditation and offerings. Day 11: Hike to the Burning Lake and Pema Ling nunnery.~Discussion on the conversations of the master Namkhai Nyingpo with the Princess Dorji Tso (described in the Life and Revelations of Pema Lingpa ). Day 12: Possible audience with the current incarnation of the Namkhai Nyingpo Rimpoche (depending on rimpoche's schedule) or a walking tour of the sacred Jambay Lhakhang and Kurjey Monastery. Day 13: Excursion to Ura or Shingkhar Valley, gateway to east Bhutan. ~Discussion on the impact of Guru Padmasambhava on the Himalayas. Day 14: Return transfer to Wangduephodrang. Day 15: Return transfer to the capital. Dinner reception with Bhutanese guests. Day 16: Free day to explore Thimphu and visit area monasteries. ~General introduction to the dialogue of Princess Trompa Gyen with the Guru. Day 17: Performance of Pema Lingpa's mask dance at the Royal Academy of Performing Arts. Day 18: Transfer to Paro Valley and hike to Tiger's Nest Monastery. Day 19: Return flight to Bangkok or another gateway city. ***

The Nelson Group with our Travel Programs Coordinator Karma Dorji at Basecamp Jomolhari, 2004 This well-loved trek featuring the basecamp of Mt. Jhomulhari combines well with our cultural travel programs. Viewing it from the Tibetan side, mountaineer F. Spencer Chapman said, "(Jomolhari) gives a greater impression of sheer height and inaccessibility than any mountain I know. It is thought by many to be the most beautiful mountain in the whole length of the Himalaya." Start in Paro valley and cross over to Thimphu, the kingdom's capital, or loop back to Paro valley via our alternate route. The mystery, power and allure of the Bhutan Himalayas is best felt on foot. Experience the grand peaks on this eastern edge of the world's greatest range up close. Our Bhutan Himalaya programs offer selections from a gentle four-night camp experience around the sacred valley of Bumthang valley to the rigors of the month-long Snowman Expedition. Our Into the Nomadic Realms program takes us to the long unbreached regions of Laya and Gasa. Whatever you choose, the mountains, valleys and some of the most hospitable people on the planet prove fertile ground for experiences that are sure to endure. At Bhutan Himalaya Expeditions, we revere our mountains and proudly share our Himalayan treasures while preserving our pristine environment. All our treks are led by trained guides, a seasoned camp crew and caravan leaders drawn from local communities through which we pass. We ensure that your journey of discovery through the mountains of Bhutan has an air of warm homecoming rather than a tourist's point and gawk. ITINERARY IN BRIEF Day 1: Drukgyel Dzong to Shana (10 miles) . Day 2: Shana to Soi Thangthathangkha (13miles). Day 3: Soi Thangthathangkha to Jangothang (12 miles). Day 4: Rest and acclimation at Jangothang or Jhomulhari basecamp Day 5: Day hike to lakes above Jangothang or Jhomulhari Glacial basin . Day 6: Jangothang to Lingzhi (12 miles). Day 7: Lingzhi to Shodu (13 miles) . Day 8: Shodu to Barshong (10 miles) . Day 9: Barshong to Dolam Kencho (9 miles) . Day 10: Dolam Kencho to Dodina (4-5 miles). ***

Rock carvings of Buddhist saints strike the "lotus pose" in Bumthang, Bhutan A Journey for the Body and the Spirit​ ~ 17 to 19 Days The ancients called the mountains Devbhumi, or "the abode of gods." Amid the Himalayas, generations of yogis sought, practiced and taught the secrets of yoga. Our yoga travel program honors that tradition. Traversing the landscape that inspired the sages, we seek to understand the varied forms and perceptions of yoga. Each day will begin or end with up to two hours of yoga instruction and practice along with chanting, meditation, and reflection. A typical day might include viewing centuries-old wall paintings with flashlights or sharing tea with a lama who can explain how yoga is integrated in monastic practice. Our en route yoga teacher has practiced Hatha Yoga for over 20 years and is a skilled and compassionate instructor. He will help our travelers integrate the outer journey with the inner in his gentle good-humored style. ITINERARY IN BRIEF Days 1&2: Arrive in Paro. Explore the many exquisite temples along the valley floor | Days 3 & 4: Transfer to the capital and browse the markets. Day hike to the Tango Buddhist College or the Chari "Iron Mountain" Retreat |Days 5 & 6: Transfer to Wangdue valley with a stop at the Dochula Pass. Explore Punakha Valley, including the Hall of 100 Pillars and the Yuelay Namgyal Pagoda. | Day 7: Transfer to Bumthang Valley with photo stops. Day 8: Explore Jakar Valley by foot, with time to visit the exquisite temples scattered along the valley floor. | Day 9: Visit a local village for an insight into the region's rich and vibrant wool-weaving tradition. | Day 10: Transfer to Wangdue Valley with a stop at Trongsa Dzong, ceremonial seat of past and future kings of Bhutan. | Day 11: Transfer to the Paro Valley in preparation for our trek. | Days 11 through 15: The Dragon's Path Trek. | Day 17: Return transfer to Paro Valley. | Day 18: Hike to Tiger's Nest Monastery. | Day 19: Return flight to Bangkok or another gateway city. ***

An Active Cultural Journey to Discover the Legacy of the Mystic Pema Lingpa Spiritual heir to Padma Sambhava, "Lotus Born Guru of the Himalayas", Pema Lingpa was one of five sovereign Himalayan Tertons or Treasure Revealers (there were over a thousand minor tertons). The impact of these spiritual masters reverberated across the pan-Himalayan region, including Bhutan, Tibet, Ladakh, Nepal, the former kingdom of Sikkim and, some believe, even Mongolia. Their specialtywas unearthing ancient teachings from the landscape (including caves, lakes, cliffs and mountains) as well as their own mindstreams and those of their predecessors, often unlocking key texts written in undecipherable "fairy" or Dakini script. Often, the task of bringing back the ancient "lost" teachings required equal parts contemplation, inspiration and daring as well as physical feats (as when Pema Lingpa entered the burning lake in the mountains of central Bhutan, butter lamps in hand, reclaiming sacred scriptures that inspire to this day). Our resident teacher and traveling companion Sarah Harding will help us navigate the series of mystic reveleations and teachings that are his legacy as we traverse the landscape of his birth. Our journey takes us along the same paths he walked, through hidden villages and into shrines that have not changed much since his lifetime in the 15th century. We stop at his home in Tamshing, catch a performance of one of his famed mask dance compositions, learn about his spiritual legacy from Sarah and Bhutanese lamas and perhaps, even, receive an audience with his current living incarnate. Along the way we stop to admire the Himalayan scenery, poised lushly between the afterglow of spring and the summer rains soon-to-come. Our mornings and evenings will include meditation, teaching and discussions with Sarah, who is also the author of Creation and Completion: Essential Points of Tantric Meditation, available from Wisdom Publications.

On December 17th, the 112th National Day of Bhutan, His Majesty Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuck, the Fifth King of Bhutan, shared his sweeping, stirring roadmap for Bhutan’s 21st century in his royal address to the kingdom. Bhutanese kings have long had the ability to inspire the nation with their words and their actions, their wisdom widely regarded in Bhutan as exemplary and farsighted. Through successive periods in Bhutanese history to the present day, the kings have excelled at their primary responsibility of providing a north star for the nation to follow. They remain above the fray and course-correct, as needed, the ship of the Bhutanese nation from the dangerous shoals of corruption and moral entropy; the coarsening of the national debate; self-interest over national good; the exploitation of natural resources over environmental considerations; social fragmentation, aggression and exclusion over peace, harmony and inclusivity. That is the reason they are justly loved and revered in Bhutan. It is why they are the recipients of the highest national regard and remain the true rulers of the hearts and minds of the people. Standing in front of the golden seal of Bhutan on Tuesday, with its two emblazoned dragons embracing the eight-spoke wheel that represents the noble eight-fold path taught by the Buddha—Right View, Right Thought, Right Speech, Right Conduct, Right Livelihood, Right Effort, Right Mindfulness and Right Contemplation—the handsome young king spoke at the capital's outdoor national stadium, Changlimethang, to a packed audience of attendees, many of whom had camped out the previous night, braving the winter cold, to hear their king speak. In the stirring, wide-ranging, intimate and entirely extemporaneous royal address to the nation, His Majesty the King shared his vision for how the Bhutanese nation can stay the course and succeed amid the challenges of the 21st century, how the kingdom's youth can be empowered and groomed to fulfill their highest expectations. He also shared the news of a national service initiative beginning 2022, and the surprise happy announcement of a second royal baby on the way. “The world is going through some of the most rapid changes we have ever seen,” His Majesty said. “We cannot afford to be timid, avoid what we don’t yet understand and hope for the best. Such an attitude will cost us our national objective of self reliance.” While we have made great progress in our national life, the road in front of us can still be steep, heavy with implications, and hold unseen dangers if we do not prepare adequately for the changes currently underway, according to the king. Nations that understand the tremendous challenges [and opportunities] inherent in the future and promptly respond to them will reap the benefits while those that fail to take advantage of the tremendous potential, or are unable to respond nimbly, will likely find themselves at risk. That is why we [the Bhutanese people] must join hands and act together as one: individuals, the representatives and officers of the democratically elected government, the private sector and all concerned citizens. We must work together to chart a clear and coherent economic roadmap for the 21st Century. This will enable every [Bhutanese] individual and entity to understand their respective roles and enable them to work toward our common national goals, he said. Our neighbors, India and China, are experiencing unprecedented economic growth, propelled by technological advances in Artificial Intelligence, Robotics, Automation, Big Data, Blockchain, Quantum Computers, and FinTech [such as] Digital Currencies, Digital Wallets, Digital Banking. We have to create economic opportunities for the next generation. It’s time to re-calibrate...ourselves to succeed in a fast-paced world. As a small nation of 700,000 people, we cannot afford the inefficiencies, the discord, and the resulting time and cost overruns that can hinder the progress of countries far bigger than ours. We must work hard to act with speed, with efficacy, and with clarity. If we act out of love, loyalty and deep concern for the well-being of the country, and shoulder our national responsibilities with the utmost dedication, we should be able to complete in a few months what could take years in other [larger but less unified] countries. We must strive to be adroit, conscientious, and seize the opportunities that come our way. We must create a clear and unobstructed pathway to progress and prosperity for our country and our people in the new century in which we are living. We must quickly fix any inefficiencies in our system to enable our citizens to work and create and flourish with the greatest convenience. We must create a climate of spaciousness that enables the highest potential of our people to flower, thus enriching the life of the nation. Above all, we must seize the ability to provide opportunities for our youth, for that is something we have in our own hands. One of our most important national objectives is to empower every single child in Bhutan for success. Bhutan’s future will be mirrored by the strength and capabilities of our youth. For our children to excel, they must adhere to the highest standards, and have capability, integrity, discipline, 21st century education, unity and solidarity. The Gyalsung, or National Service, will provide direction and encourage our youth to be strong, independent thinkers, capable of serving the country. It will bring the youth of Bhutan together in a shared experience and act as a common rite of passage, irrespective of their economic or regional backgrounds. With this initiative, we are placing an immense responsibility on the shoulders of our children, and assuming an even greater responsibility ourselves to nurture them and ensure their success, His Majesty said. With these words expressing his highest aspirations for the nation and the people of Bhutan, His Majesty the King joins the historic tradition established by the First King of Bhutan, Gongsar Ugyen Wangchuck, when he united the warring clans and chieftains of Bhutan under the dragon throne. More recently, the Great Fourth, His Majesty Jigme Singye Wangchuck, was an intensely unifying force in the life of the Bhutanese nation. That sacred banner of Bhutan's national identity is now borne aloft by His Majesty the Fifth King of Bhutan. Even though the Bhutanese system has evolved in recent times to include the kingdom's unique form of parliamentary democracy—at the coaxing, behest and, ultimately, explicit action of their majesties the fourth and fifth kings—no single institution, entity or individual does better at providing a moral compass for the Bhutanese soul than the worthy office of the king. In fact, when visitors to the kingdom wonder aloud why the institution of monarchy should be so deeply revered in Bhutan even as it faces decline in other parts of the world, this is the reason why. The secret, ultimately, is that there is no secret to the prevailing mystique of Bhutan's kings. There's no magic, no fairy dust, no propaganda machine that props up the mythology. There's only the hard work, the deep dedication, the selfless love, and the duty-bound response to a sacred calling exemplified by the Bhutanese kings that makes their role in national life so special. In such cynical, reductionist, times, the refined qualities exemplified by the Bhutanese kings are precious reminders of the values we should all seek to share and uphold as members of the collective global human family. KARMA SINGYE DORJI Travel Programs Coordinator Bhutan Himalaya Expeditions (Photos special to Bhutan Himalaya by Kuenzang Norbu) Karma is the author of Dreaming of Prayer Flags: Stories and Images from Bhutan.

The Laya-Gasa Trek traverses the second largest national park in Bhutan, covering a distance of about 200 km or 124 miles. The first five days of this trek follows the same route as the Jomolhari Trek and offers breathtaking views of snow-capped peaks like Mt. Jomolhari, Jichu Drake, and Tsherimgang. On the sixth day the path splits toward Lingshi via a campsite at Chebisa, a charming village adorned with a beautiful waterfall of crystal clear water. If you’re lucky you’ll spot some interesting wildlife along the way, including blue sheep and the national animal of Bhutan, Takin. Hiking through this remote mountain region—passing villages inhabited by Layaps, one of the most ethnic of Bhutanese tribes with their own traditional habits, culture and style of dress—is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Aside from that, it offers the trail-weary hiker a wonderful reward at its end: a well-deserved soak in the relaxing (and famous) natural hot springs of Gasa. The terrain is challenging, to say the least; in fact it's among the more difficult treks in Bhutan due to the high altitudes and steep ascents and sharp descents along the route. The best months to take up this challenge are April to June and mid-September to mid-November. For those who persevere, the picturesque views of snow-covered peaks; the clear, star-lit night skies; and the opportunity to commune with nature are ample rewards. Ten years ago the trek began from Drugyel Dzong in Paro but now a farm road from Drukgyel cuts off the first day of trekking. Today you can drive to what used to be the first night’s campsite near the army outpost of Shana. Ten minutes after leaving the army checkpoint, where trekkers are required to present their permits, you reach a Bailey bridge at Shana where everyone begins their trek. FYI: This is where you hand your bags over to expedition staff. Don’t be alarmed by the large number of camp staff and crew who will join you at this point; in fact, an embarrassingly large number of people and pack animals are required to ensure your safety, comfort, and happiness in the rugged Himalayan outdoors! The main body of the route for the first couple of days follows the Paro River upstream through forests of cypress, spruce and hemlock. Expect muddy conditions and rough, rocky, trails. When you arrive at camp you will catch a glimpse of the signature snow-cone of Bhutan’s second highest peak, Mt. Jomolhari (7,314m or 24,023 feet) behind the surrounding slopes and ridges. Campsites can get pretty crowded in the trekking high season so it’s always a good idea to start early and arrive early so you can pick a favorable spot to camp. The Jomolhari basecamp is a beautiful place to rest with the “Mother Goddess Mountain of the World” as your backdrop and the remains of an ancient ruined fortress in the foreground. Most trekkers stop here for a minimum day’s rest before moving on. With good reason too. Without proper acclimation, hikers die each year in the Bhutanese mountains due to altitude-related causes. You can use the “halt day” to relax or complete a ridge hike in the surrounding mountains, or go exploring for scenic photo-ops at the nearby twin lakes area that locals call Tshophu. Keep an eye out for blue sheep on the nearby slopes today, as well as for marmots staring out from their holes with their hands folded in the gesture of prayer (leading locals to coin the term Gomchen Bjeu which means ‘Hermit Cats’.) The lakes at Tshophu are fabled for their Golden Trout. After leaving basecamp at Jomolhari, Nyile La Pass, at 4,750m (15,583ft), is one of the most challenging climbs. It’s usually very windy at the high passes so be sure to bring layers and a windproof jacket everyday for the remaining portion of the trek. Eventually, a winding downhill brings you to the impressive Lingshi Dzong fortress. This area is noted for its wild medicinal plants, and there’s an important collection area here that supplies the traditional pharmacists in the capital and other parts of the country. From Lingshi, hike in similar fashion, climbing high during the day and dropping low during the afternoons, for the next five days along the route. There are more passes to cross, with the highest being Sinchula Pass at 4,900m or 16,076ft. Beyond that, you finally arrive in Laya, one of the most beautiful villages in Bhutan with clustered homes surrounded by carved fields on a sharply terraced slope. It’s like finding a hidden Shangri-la within a hidden land. The Layaps, as the local people are called, have a culture and a language all their own. It’s a good idea to stop here as well, if only to explore this intriguing village and meet its colorful residents. If you’re visiting at the end of October, you may be in time for the Highland Festival, which brings in visitors from Bhutan as well as foreign travelers. The festival includes dances from the nearby villages, a contest of yaks, and an annual foot race organized by the government to promote tourism in the region. The final descent down to Gasa is easy and, truth be told, the prospect of a soak in the hot springs at the end of the trail can speed your progress. From there, it’s a three-hour drive down to Punakha, the ancient capital of Bhutan, from where you can explore other parts of the country or continue on to Paro for your return flight home.

At the ancient celebration of Bhutan's Pazaap Warriors, a blend of spiritual tradition and martial history reveal the men who protect the kingdom's holiest relic. by KARMA DORJI FEB 15, 2019 Burly and forbidding at first, the warriors are suddenly all smiles, showing teeth stained red by beetlejuice. Won over by promises of hand-delivered photographs, they line up for a group photograph. We are inside a massive walled fortress the Bhutanese people call a dzong, in Bhutan’s old capital, Punakha. Like their ancient forebears, Bhutan's present-day Pazaap warriors wear heavy spiked brass helmets with protective coverlets that run down the sides and backs of their heads. They carry lightweight shields of woven cane with an outer covering of tough animal hide. Their scarlet knee-length ghos are made from a heavy material of yak hair and wool. Wrapped around their shoulders and their necks are rough lengths of raw silk that, used properly, can stop a full frontal blow from a long sword. And yes, they’re wearing swords; swords over two-feet long swinging swashbuckler-style from their waists. Later, leaving me with instructions to deliver their photographs when they’re ready, the warriors hurry down the shadowy passages on either side of the fortress. They are the main event at the annual Pageant of Warriors festival, a highlight of one of the hand-selected Signature Journeys we offer each year. ​ As winter releases its grip on the countryside, and purple jacaranda flowers bloom on the trees outside the fortress walls, the courtyards of the grand old building come alive in a riot of sounds and colors, a medieval celebration recounting the kingdom’s proud history. Sacred Tooth The story concerns a religious relic called the kharsapani, a tooth-size miracle statue representing Avalokiteshvara, the Bodhisattva of Compassion. Brought from Tibet by Shabdrung Ngawang Namgyel, the 17th century hierarch of the Drukpa or "Dragon" school of Buddhism who later unified Bhutan, the relic sparked a series of military conflicts with Tibetan forces over its possession. Enter the Pazaap warriors who were sworn by the Shabdrung — a term of reverence that means “at whose feet we kneel” — as the relic’s designated defenders. Each time the pazaaps drove back the Tibetan troops, they returned with reinforcements. The battles for the tooth relic grew increasingly more relentless until, with no end in sight, the Shabdrung and the pazaaps devised a clever plan to end the hostilities. ​ During a break in fighting, they formed an elaborate procession of monks and warriors from the fortress to the banks of the Mochu river, which flows beside the dzong, and pretended to throw the holy object in the water. Seeing this from the other side of the river, the Tibetans became convinced that the relic was lost for good, so they stopped fighting and went back to Tibet. In reality, the relic was locked safely away in one of the high towers of the dzong, where it remains to this day. In time, it became one of Bhutan's most fiercely guarded national treasures. A Martial Celebration A sudden blast of religious music — drums, long horns, reedy pipes and clashing hand-held cymbals — announces the start of the day's festival. In an outer courtyard of the building the grand procession weaves its way into the dzong. In the grand procession are proud commanders with gleaming brass helmets wearing flashy silks and brocades and riding colorful festooned horses led by retinues of ceremonial monks. A flash of yellow monastic robes and a gleam reflected from round-rimmed glasses alerts us to the arrival of one of Bhutan’s highest religious figure, His Holiness the Je Khenpo, chief arbiter of all things Buddhism. With the arrival of the chief guest the main court inside the dzong fills quickly with vibrant festival-goers in their best and brightest clothes. Among the audience are the inhabitants of all the neighboring valleys of Punakha, state guests, high officials, ministers and members of the kingdom's revered royal family. After the dignitaries take their seats  in the upper viewing area, the festival kicks into high gear. The Festival A sudden explosion of fireworks accompanied by blood-curdling shouts, whoops and whistles announcing the entrance of our friends, the Pazaaps. Blades slice the air and shields rise to meet them. Faces contort fiercely, bodies turn and whirl. Drums beat, and feet leap, in a strenuous effortless-seeming ballet telling the story of the brave and historic encounters of warriors past. Suddenly, a plaintive cry, followed by the music of reedy pipes. The yellow-robed figure of the Je Khenpo rises, followed by his retinue of monks and ceremonial standard bearers. His Holiness leads the procession as it snakes its way out of the courtyard and down the stairs to the banks of the river. Bhutan's spiritual leader throws something round and shiny in the river (I’m told it’s an orange symbolizing the historic deflection we described earlier). Watching the final episode of one of Bhutan’s many colorful living legends, I am struck by the fact that despite the explosions, in spite of the fierce dances, the leaping, the jousting and the vigorous crossing of swords, the event seems to be about restoring peace. Ultimately, it seems to be not so much about the prowess of the Pazaaps as about skillfully maneuvering an end to fighting, something we need more of in the world today. ~ Like this article? Get similar features & travel information sent straight to your inbox with the Bhutan Himalaya Newsletter

The Mountain Resort in Bhutan’s Bumthang highlands has come a long way without losing its roots. Our family-run resort was started by a man of exceptional kindness, who dreamed of a place that would be gracious, spacious, and rooted in the genuine traditions of Bhutanese hospitality. Over the years, it has fulfilled its promise of welcoming all our guests with the generous spirit of its founder. Although he is no longer with us, his spirit is in every detail of the property. And while we miss his presence we know he is with us in every breath of this place. A Family Affair Ashi, the matriarch of the family, still runs the kitchen with a light touch and with grace and beauty while the children take care of various responsibilities from reservations to front of house to the restaurant and spa and the most beautiful rooftop hot stone baths (the only one of its kind in Bhutan). This is a big-hearted place brimming with the love of our dearly beloved family elder, and humming with the heart and the passion that is the legacy he left to his children. It is a place of light, a place of strength, of honesty, integrity, and the highest aspects of the cherished Bhutanese way of life. #bhutan #boutiquehotels #lodges #travel #uniquehotels

Bhutan brings its philosophy of Gross National Happiness or “GNH” to the world by pushing for an International Day of Happiness at the UN General Assembly. Recent efforts by the kingdom’s leaders have brought Bhutan’s unique message of Gross National Happiness to the attention of a wider audience. In 2012, Bhutan, using its membership privileges, convened a special meeting at the United Nations headquarters in New York to institute “Happiness” as part of the UN’s goals for international development. Laughing schoolboys in Trongsa, Bhutan hint at Bhutan's success at instituting "Gross National Happiness" The meeting, which took place during the 66th Session of the UN General Assembly, was attended by a panel of international luminaries such as the economist Jeffrey Sachs and the Nobel Laureate Joseph Stiglitz among others. Among the results of that meeting was the adoption of March 20 as what is now the UN International Day of Happiness. As framed with Bhutan's intiative, Resolution 66/281 of the United Nations General Assembly states, in part: “Conscious that the pursuit of happiness is a fundamental human goal,[…] Recognizing also the need for a more inclusive, equitable and balanced approach to economic growth that promotes sustainable development, poverty eradication, happiness and the well-being of all peoples, Decides to proclaim 20 March the International Day of Happiness…” While the kingdom has convened other, earlier, international meetings on Gross National Happiness in Thailand, Brazil, Canada and the Netherlands, the adoption by the UN is considered by many in Bhutan to be one of the most concrete achievements yet. Gross National Happiness policy, the brainchild of His Majesty Jigme Singye Wangchuck, Bhutan’s fourth king (father of the current king), was first proposed in 1972. Since then, the policy has been elaborated and expanded under the leadership of such government agencies as the Gross National Happiness Commission and the Bhutan-based (and Bhutan-led) think-tank Centre for Bhutan Studies (CBS). As it is popularly understood now Gross National Happiness has four pillars: good governance, sustainable socio-economic development, cultural preservation, and environmental conservation. The four pillars are further divided into 9 sub-domains that measure psychological wellbeing, health, education, time use, cultural diversity and resilience, good governance, community vitality, ecological diversity and resilience, and living standards. According to the CBS, “the domains represents each of the components of wellbeing of the Bhutanese people, and the term ‘wellbeing’ here refers to fulfilling conditions of a ‘good life’ as per the values and principles laid down by the concept of Gross National Happiness.” To further the goals of Gross National Happiness, Bhutan continues to host international and bilateral events, delegations, academics, researchers and economists aimed at helping the Bhutanese government improve and fine-tune the accuracy of its national happiness indicators.

Agriculture in the kingdom becomes fully organic as government leaders push for the cultivation of healthy homegrown food and standardized farming practices. Bhutan, home of “Gross National Happiness,” has taken another progressive step by announcing its decision to make its agricultural practices fully organic. While this may be seen as an ambitious move outside the kingdom, policymakers in Bhutan maintain that this will be a relatively easy goal to accomplish. These officials point to the fact that Bhutan’s indigenous farming practices have long relied on traditional methods that have nothing to do with modern chemicals and soil “enhancements”. They suggest that those traditional Bhutanese cultivation practices are already, by default, organic. A Bhutanese farmer smiles at the camera as she works her fields with her grand-daughter Chemical fertilizers, pesticides and herbicides have so far only been used on 1.5% of the total agricultural area, they say. With a population comprised mostly of farmers (estimated at two-thirds of all Bhutanese people), the decision was first announced by the first democratically elected Prime Minister of Bhutan, Jigmi Y. Thinley, at the United Nations Conference on Sustainable Development, in 2012. More recently, the current Bhutanese Prime Minister, Tshering Tobgay, has made similar pronouncements and spoken of his commitment to fulfill that goal of ensuring that all farming in Bhutan becomes wholly organic. Today, the Royal Government of Bhutan is working with farmers all across the country to make organic farming the mandatory standard rather than the exception “to improve self-sufficiency of farmers, improve the nation’s economic standing and to preserve the nation’s freshwater supply.” A press release from Bhutan states that “a complete shift to organic farming will make a massive impact on [Bhutan] and likely on surrounding countries.”

Textile journalist and enthusiast Torie Olson writes about discovering the intricacies of Bhutanese textile traditions with us. Bhutan is a holy spot for pilgrims, trekkers, and devotees of the textile arts. It’s been on my list since their fourth king, His Majesty Jigme Singye Wangchuck, opened the door to foreigners. Thirty years later, good fortune shines upon me and I find myself standing in line behind the actress Glenn Close, then boarding the Druk Air plane emblazoned with a dragon. The other passengers are clad in a treasure trove of hand-woven fabrics. In the name of national unity, all Bhutanese are required to wear the traditional dress. When we deplane, Glenn Close and I are the only women in pants. Bhutan's well-stocked yarn shops, like this one in the capital, Thimphu, fuel the kingdom's vibrant weaving traditions. © Bhutan Himalaya Bhutanese women wear the kira, a rectangular garment comprised three, nine-foot loom lengths sewn together and wrapped around the body in a manner so complicated that if I were Bhutanese, I’d have to hire a dresser. Back and front are hooked together at the shoulders with silver brooches and cinched at the waist with a narrow sash. Men wear the gho, a kimono-like robe. If left alone, it would fall to the floor. Instead, it’s hiked up to the knees, gathered at the waist, and tightly belted. My host and tour operator, Karma Dorji, and his cadre of guides are constantly adjusting the drape of their robes. I have no idea what’s under there, but certainly no telltale bulges. When one guy reaches in for a sheaf of paperwork and a cell phone, it’s as if he’s pulled a bird from a hat. From another man’s gho comes a whole bag of apples. He offers me one and grins. “We have the biggest pocket in the world.” In addition to making briefcases and shopping bags moot, Bhutan’s national dress comes in a dazzling array of colors and an infinite number of patterns. According to Ashi Sangay Choden, the [then] youngest queen and founder of the National Textile Museum, Bhutan’s weavings reflect the country’s unique identity, regional fashions, and social status. I learn more about the subtleties of customary dress when I’m invited to tea with Karma and his Aunt Deki Tshomo. Deki describes herself as Man Friday to the queen. In this capacity, she has studied, collected, and documented Bhutan’s traditional textiles. Her official duties also include accompanying Her Majesty on goodwill tours in support of projects that encourage AIDS prevention, discourage teen pregnancy, and equip disadvantaged women and girls with income-generating skills like weaving. Dressed in a silk kira in the pastel colors currently in vogue, Deki ushers me into her home in the Beverly Hills section of Bhutan’s capital, Thimphu. Once we are seated on the leather couch in her living room, she and Karma give me a crash course in Weaving Appreciation. Young Bhutanese women in kira at an annual Tshechu festival © Torie Olson / Bhutan Himalaya In the 15th century, Pema Lingpa, a.k.a. the Treasure Revealer, introduced the art (and twelve others) to Bhutan. The original fiber was tree bark. Until the mid-1960’s, nettle and Cannabis sativa (which grows wild everywhere!) were also used. The first ghos and kiras were woven from wild silk. “In the old days, all a man had to do when threatened by a sword was raise up his arm,” Karma says. “The fabric was so strong, it was his shield.” Costliest of fibers, Bhutanese silk is coarser than silk from other Asian countries because of religious sanctions against the killing of animals. Here, silk makers will not gather cocoons until after the worms have hatched. This prevents death, but breaks silk filaments. Bhutanese weavers are known for their extravagant use of color and complex supplementary weft and warp patterns which look embroidered to the untrained eye. These brocades feature bands of raised and repeating motifs that run vertically for men and horizontally for women. Nobility sport longer hemlines, wider cuffs, brighter colors, and broader stripes, allowing more room for more motifs. Country people often wear a simple-checked pattern. Deki unfolds one exquisite, double-faced weaving after another. No two are alike and each has a name: Kushitara, Mathra, Burra, Pesar…. “I am very particular about my motifs,” she says, pointing out the most complicated – the shinglo or tree of life. I marvel over other bands of butterflies, monkey tails, cocks combs, cats eyes, fly wings and flowers. Buddhist symbols figure in the work as well: thunderbolts, diamonds, dharma wheels, and lucky knots. Deki weaves them in hand-dyed, embossed silk and cotton imported from India, although she warns, “You have to starch the cotton and fix the colors first, because after spending up to a year on a special kira, you don’t want it to bleed in the first washing.“ Unlike the other Bhutanese crafts which have strictly prescribed designs, the choice of fiber, motif, color, and pattern are at the pleasure of the weaver. I am quickly overloaded with information. Weaving seems like rocket science here, although until recently, it wasn’t anything you could study. “If you have an interest, you automatically pick it up ,” Deki claims, as if this skill is imprinted on Bhutanese DNA like dark hair and eyes. Her family’s roots are in the East, home to Bhutan’s most celebrated weavers. She, too, became an expert artisan, experimenting on breaks from boarding school and university where she earned a degree in Commerce. “I’m educated, so people don’t believe I weave.” As Man Friday to a queen, mother of three, and wife of the Chief of Protocol in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Deki can’t possibly weave all the textiles her family requires. Hand-loomed fabrics are not only for wearing; they’re also a form of currency. Textiles are used to barter, pay taxes, even traded like stocks and bonds. Brocades, checks, wild silks, and/or fine cottons must also be presented in threes or fives at weddings, promotions, funerals, and religious ceremonies. Fabric types and amounts are defined by the importance of the recipients. To take care of her family’s obligations, Deki has a room of her own on the third floor, and a small, bamboo-sided studio in her garden where two young weavers,Tashi and Leki, produce more of her designs. Bhutan’s royalty and nobility maintain their own weaving houses. They also commission weavings from soldiers’ wives (known for their expertise) and buy others, brought to the capital from the countryside. Deki, explaining the intricacies of a Bhutanese textile loom © Torie Olson / Bhutan Himalaya After the harvest of rice, maize or millet, farm women devote themselves to their craft. Since it takes about three months to weave most kiras and ghos, they finish just in time for the festival (and tourist) season. Deki adds, “Most of the young ladies here [in the capital] are into careers, so they don’t have time to weave. This is actually good for our rural women because now they have a ready market for their hand-loomed wares.” This enables them to gain economic independence from male family members, and curbs Bhutan’s rural-urban migration, but there’s a downside, too. Knowing they can earn more as weavers than as graduates, too many drop out of school. A few shops in Thimphu sell weavings off the rack. They are priced like haute couture, affordable only for collectors and Hollywood’s born again Buddhists who have come to see their gurus. (Not to say that Glenn Close is one of those, but I hear through the grapevine that while amusing the royal children as Cruella De Vil, she let out a cackle so devilish, the king’s guards came running.) I continue to see her, here and there, still in pants, although I assume she has tucked a few kiras into her luggage. I am deterred by sticker shock. I can only imagine myself all dressed up. I do have a place to go. I’ve timed my visit with the tsechus, the annual religious festivals in honor of Guru Rimpoche, the revered teacher who brought Buddhism to Bhutan in 737 A.D. These masked dances are held across the country in the district dzongs, the fortress-like architectural treasures that house government offices and small monastic communities, and provide a center for communal life. To enter a dzong, a ceremonial scarf is required. As a sign of respect, the men’s kabney is worn across the chest like a bandoleer. It’s always wild silk, and its color indicates civil service rank and social status. Commoners wear white. Cabinet Members of government wear orange. The king wears a saffron yellow kabney, and awards the red scarf (like a medal of honor) for dedicated service. Women wear narrower scarves called rechus. Worn over the left shoulder, they’re often red or green and ornamented with Buddhism’s eight lucky symbols. Most are made of embossed silk, but no silk worms were killed for mine which is gloriously rough, multi-striped, and admired by many. The first time I wore it, I was held up at the gate while a handsome guard removed it from my shoulder, folded it more neatly, then patted it back in place – over my left breast. After ten days without husband, I didn’t really mind. Today, I wear it for a culmination ceremony where monks (who have just finished a fourteen day retreat) dance to share their blessings with the world. Outside the dzong, I stand in the women’s queue, waiting to be checked for dress code and frisked for cameras. In front of me are women in weavings to die for, not to mention necklaces of gold, coral, and pearls so heavy, they are ruining posture. Here, they are trying to keep up with Wangchuks, not Joneses. As instructed, I wear a long skirt, long sleeves, and closed-toed shoes, but I see high end, high heeled sandals click past the policemen. The poor are admitted in their flip-flops and faded finery. Once I get the okay, I try to find space amongst the thousands. Most are crowded onto bamboo mats, rejoicing and picnicking on yak dumplings and Lays potato chips. Perched on windowsills around the courtyard, children command the best view. The second best is smashed against a massive stone wall where, in visual ecstasy, I watch the whirling trance dancers in gorgeous, silk circle skirts, demon appliquéd aprons, cloud collars, and heavy wooden masks. These false faces are not strangers to me. I have the privilege of sleeping in the altar room of a house belonging to Bhutan’s newspaper editor where my futon is flanked by demon masks, each crowned with five skulls. On the other side of my pillow stands a wooden shrine, painted with ferocious-faced tigers, snow lions, garudas, and dragons. I wonder if they will disturb my dreams, but each night, I sleep especially well; apparently, they are my protectors. Bhutanese children in their festival best © Torie Olson / Bhutan Himalaya Another day, I watch other fabulously costumed monk/deities as they subdue evil in mirrored black hats while orange-robed monks chant in low, gargley voices. Two hours east, I see lamas in red cardinal-like hats performing another age-old ritual. Further west in a sparsely populated valley, I attend a country tsechu. Here, I have an unencumbered view of sword-bearing stags, red-masked jesters, and gold crowned noblemen. Back in Thimphu Dzong, tiger-skirted Ging strike me (and other lucky ones) on the head with drumsticks. It hurts, but hey, no pain, no gain; they are chasing the impurity from my body. On the way to and from dzongs and temples dedicated to Guru Rimpoche and the Treasure Revealer, I see women on porches and balconies and under bamboo canopies in the fields, working on next year’s kiras and ghos. As I travel the country, I notice some regional differences in the weaving process. Most Bhutanese use a backstrap loom, although some prefer the Tibetan pedal loom introduced in the 1930’s. They work with a variety of fiber – silk from the east, yak hair from the north, fine cotton from the south, and wool from the central valleys. In one such valley, I visit Karma’s ancestral village where his cousin, also named Karma, shows me her loom with a view. Sliding open the wooden panels which stand in for windows, she reveals a million dollar vista of red rice fields, wild fig and persimmon trees. Under new corn drying in the rafters, she works on a woolen panel of yathra cloth for which her district is known. Its vegetable-dyed, geometric patterns are strikingly similar to the diagrammatic prayers I saw painted on the walls of the Punakha Dzong. This twilled fabric is used for blankets, cushion covers, and jackets popular with tourists, and Karma’s beautiful mother makes me a gift of some. She also shows me a kawley, an all wool, all black garment known for its healing properties. Nearby in Chume, I visit an outlet for 240 weavers from thirteen villages who walk up to a day to trade their textiles for groceries and money for their children’s school uniforms. It is here that I meet Sonam Lhamo who also uses wool from the indigenous Jakar sheep (often crossed for softness with Australia’s comeback breed). An expert dyer, Sonam is talked into giving me a demonstration, although I don’t come away with near enough information to replicate her jewel tones. The weaver and entrepreneur Sonam Lhamo explains traditional dyeing methods © Torie Olson / Bhutan Himalaya Color is so highly valued here that dyeing is regulated by strict taboos. Recipes are passed from mother to daughter. Dyeing is done at first light, behind closed doors. No one outside the family is allowed to witness this process, especially pregnant women whose unborn children might “steal the colors and spoil the dye baths.” Nonetheless, Sonam shares a few of her secrets with me. Overdyeing is the reason she gets such intense colors. Her wool goes into two or more dye baths and is fixed with hardwood ash or buckwheat husks. For a range of blues, she grows “Bhutanese indigo” in a kitchen garden. Aided by yeast, it ferments in a newspaper-lined tin kept warm in a pile of manure. Today, skeins simmer in a pot full of horse sugar leaves. For a deep gold, they will be overdyed with tumeric. Some of Sonam’s reds come from madder. With a handful of twigs, she produces shades ranging from orange to maroon which is worn only by nuns and monks. The reddest reds come from lac. This gets translated as “bug sh_ _ ,” although others in the room claim it’s worm blood. At the National Textile Museum, I learn that it’s a resin secreted by a parasitic insect called Laccifer lacca. Collecting it from the branches of host trees can cause some insects to die, so many Buddhist dyers will not use it. Back in the capital , Deki takes me to the Gagyel Lhundrup Weaving Center where Kelzang Lhundrup is proprietor and one of Bhutan’s few male weavers. “Weaving was considered a woman’s work,” Deki says. “But if you got a piece woven by a man, people used to believe it would ward off evil. Don’t get it dirty, don’t step over it, and it will bring you good fortune.” In another Thimphu workshop, I am disappointed to see a talented young woman weaving with synthetic threads that have been colored with chemicals. We strike up a conversation, and I happen to mention that Glenn Close is staying at my hotel. “Ah, Fatal Attraction,” she says without missing a beat. Since Bhutan opened its doors to the world, Hollywood movies and low grade raw materials and finished products have come in, too. I can only guess how images of a knife-wielding woman in a jealous rage are perceived by the Bhutanese, but it’s obvious how manufactured synthetics are simplifying designs and changing the palette and texture of their treasured textile tradition. “About fifteen years ago, we gave some of our patterns to an Indian factory,” Deki says. “Mass-produced kiras and ghos were cheap and very popular. There was a slump in our own weaving, but the government and the queens stepped in, so the art won’t die out.” The Ministry of Labor established the National Institute for Zorig Chusum (Bhutan’s 13 traditional crafts) with intensive training in weaving and an emphasis on high quality. The Khaling Project, brainchild of the [fourth] king’s sister, is reviving traditional designs, encouraging innovation, schooling thousands of rural weavers and preparing them to open weaving units in their own districts. Held annually, National Design Competitions and Fashion Shows are also helping to keep the art alive. Bhutan is doing so much more than most countries to stop culture loss, and it’s my hope that because of these mindful efforts – because of national unity laws and fines for breaking them, because of royal sponsorship of art museums and programs, because of educated and impassioned weavers like Deki – Bhutan’s future will hold more wild silk than blue denim. Before I get back on the dragon-tailed plane, I have one more chance to see the masked dances. This time, monks will throw up handfuls of confetti, and under a huge parasol, Guru Rimpoche himself will appear to bless the throng. Again, I think about wearing a kira to the tshechu, but by this time, I have become a connoisseur and only the best will do. “Don’t go to the shops,” Deki tells me. “Go to the vegetable market, and if you meet a man with a big, stuffed bag, you should find out what’s inside.” I go to the Sunday market, but I don’t find her itinerant trader. Not tempted, I finger questionable amber and poor quality weavings. I get the feeling someone is following me, and when I turn, he reaches inside his gho, and (abracadabra!) produces a treasure I cannot refuse. I have just enough for the slightly faded, cotton kira, woven in 1947 by his great grandmother,Thoma, one of the celebrated weavers from the East. How fortunate can I be? On three jewel-toned panels, she has woven the luckiest number (108) of lucky knots. Photojournalist Torie Olson has traveled extensively in the Americas, Asia, and Africa to document, celebrate, and advocate for the world’s tribal peoples. She is the author of Silk Road, Life in Color: South India & Weaving Love, Weaving Life, among others. In the last five years, her photographs have been showcased in 30 solo exhibitions in the U.S. and abroad, with proceeds benefiting organizations that support traditional artisan families. Olson has published numerous photographs and articles on endangered cultures in U.S. and Asian publications.

Writer, Artist & Ceramicist Rachel Davey on the Buddhist arts or Bhutan. On a table near the studio door, figures of dream multiply. Their clay bodies sprout extra limbs and heads; they clasp each other in fierce embraces. Some are garlanded with skulls or crowned with pigs’ heads, others winged and fanged. They crowd together in vegetative abundance on every surface, astonishingly intricate, graceful, despite their ferocity. A RELIGIOUS CONTEXT I am in an art school in Bhutan, but these extraordinary works do not represent an outpouring of students’ creative imagination. Rather, they form part of a tradition of sacred Buddhist art that has remained unbroken since Shabdrung Ngawang Namgyal unified this isolated Himalayan kingdom in the seventeenth century. From Tibet, he brought scriptures setting out exact descriptions of devotional icons. These texts, together with the dreams or visions of enlightened masters, form the blueprints from which students at Bhutan’s National Institute of Zorig Chusum (or Thirteen Traditional Arts) work today. A Lharipa, or painter of sacred wall murals, working in a temple in Bumthang valley, Central Bhutan. © Bhutan Himalaya Bhutan’s esoteric Vajrayana form of Buddhism permeates every aspect of life here, and all Bhutanese art occurs in a religious context. The throngs of hallucinatory figures in the studio are not art objects, but sacred images. They represent the Buddha in various wrathful manifestations, and symbolise a wish to cut through ignorance and mental defilements and help the viewer realise Buddhahood. TRAINING Students at the Zorig Chusum School undergo a rigorous six-year training to earn their place in a centuries-old lineage of statue-makers, whose work adorns altars in every temple and home. Fifty-six trainee sculptors at the institute’s two branches follow a tightly defined syllabus, and must perfect twelve icons over the six years of their study. These increase in complexity from the first piece students tackle, a simple seated Buddha, to the eleven-headed, thousand-armed Avalokitesvara on the final year syllabus. Few of those who join the course have ever touched clay before, but their initial task involves working not with raw earth but with wood. New students must first learn to carve or turn the wooden tools they will use as sculptors. Then they learn how to dig and prepare their clay. The fine, freshly dug clay is mixed with paper made from the bark of the daphne plant. At the remote Trashiyangtse branch in eastern Bhutan, students also learn to gather daphne bark from the forest, and to boil, beat, and shred it before adding it to the clay. The mix is then pounded with a wooden mallet until it forms an even clay of surprising strength and holding qualities. The paper fibres support the clay and offer a remarkable freedom to create extensions from the main piece that reach out into the air: delicate drapes, long-stemmed flowers, tongues of flame. A student sculptor in Bhutan's capital, Thimphu. © Rachel Davey Only when students know how to prepare their materials can they begin to make their first statue. The sacred texts give precise instructions on how each deity should appear. Every detail is prescribed and the rules of iconography must be strictly adhered to. Art students in Bhutan are not setting out on a journey of creative self-expression and experiment. Rather, they are embarking on a practice of humility in a culture where the artist should remain subordinate to his work, almost invisible. An artist’s aim is to learn to flawlessly represent the divine, to re-create the sacred, not to express his own individuality. Lopön Dawa Penjor, sculpture master at the institute in Bhutan’s capital, Thimphu, is himself a graduate of the Zorig Chusum School. He works side by side with his students on their first image, that of a seated Buddha. Together, master and student build a hollow form from thin coils of clay, the teacher working on one half of the image, the student on the other. The form is apparently simple, but the statue when consecrated is regarded as a manifestation of the Buddha and its proportions and attributes must therefore be perfectly re-created. Tashi, a third year student, explains that it’s a ‘very great sin’ to allow a flawed statue to survive. Imperfect pieces are destroyed and the clay reused. ‘If we keep a statue we’ve made with the wrong proportions we believe we will be born deformed in our next life,’ he tells me. IMPERMANENCE Finished statues in Bhutan are not fired. The fragility of unfired clay is a perfect metaphor for Buddhist beliefs about the transience of all phenomena, and the permanence of the ceramic state is not sought. Nevertheless, these statues can survive remarkably well. In Simtokha Dzong, a fortress monastery near Thimphu, there is a magnificent clay image of the Buddha of Compassion, Avalokitesvara, with 1000 arms and eleven heads, which was created in the 1630s. The paper or bark content in the clay allows it to be reworked even after centuries. Students in the Thimphu school have recently finished repairing a two-hundred-year-old statue. The damaged part is wrapped in pulped daphne bark or paper and allowed to gradually absorb moisture. New clay can then be added on top of old, or broken pieces can be rejoined. On average, students at the Zorig Chusum School take two to three months to complete a single piece. Once their teacher has helped them to build their very first Buddha, they repeat the image by themselves, receiving corrections as needed. Statues are built hollow because they are intended as vessels for the divine. Those that meet the exacting criteria of the master will be finished by students of painting, another of the Thirteen Arts, and eventually consecrated. In the consecration ritual, the body of the statue is filled with printed prayers, jewelry, or precious stones, relics, and sacred objects. A lama, or Buddhist master, then invites enlightened beings to merge their minds with the object. As one student puts it, what the sculptor makes is simply ‘the empty body of a statue’, but on consecration it becomes a personification of the deity. ‘We can only make the body, but the lama gives it its spirit.’ This explains the students’ amusement when I ask why they don’t sign their work. Once an icon is consecrated it is not just an object to be viewed, but a representation of the divine. It belongs on an altar, and worshippers make offerings and prostrate themselves to it in order to invoke the blessings of the Buddha. ‘If my name was on the statue, they’d be prostrating to me,’ says Nima, laughing. ‘It would be very wrong, to put myself on an altar.’ Statue-makers do have signatures, however, although these are nothing as crude as a name, and are generally recognisable only to fellow makers. A particular master’s work might be identifiable by the almost gauzy delicacy of his statue’s garments, or the way its hands seem ready to flex. However, making in Bhutan is rarely about ego, and the Zorig Chusum students seem puzzled by my worrying over signatures. A statue is good enough, or it is not. That is all. It is the work, not the maker, that matters. The apparent anonymity of Bhutanese sculptors and the prescribed nature of their work are in dramatic contrast to the striving for originality and experimentation seen in European ceramics. Yet there is no sense that what students are doing here is mere reproduction. Statue making in Bhutan is most definitely an act of creation, or rather re-creation. Students are not making mere images; they are learning to make receptacles for the divine, signposts on the way to enlightenment.