I had two choices for the day–birding and a local gathering or a trek up to Korphu village. I elected to take it easy and go birding, but let me save all my birding finds for later. Instead, I want to talk about Nabji.
My guide Pelden was born in Nabji, and he lived here until going away to school.
Several of his sisters still live in the area; one in the village. Because I was a party of one, she graciously invited me to stay in her home. Thus, I had an opportunity to glimpse what rural life in Bhutan is really like–sort of. Being an honored guest in a home where no one speaks your language, the only chair is the one brought for you, and the kitchen is so smoky that it makes your eyes water, nose run, and lungs cough means there is little interaction between you and your hosts.
Pelden's sister's home
While most of the homes look multi-storied, only one level is used for living space. The ground level is for storage, as is the open space between the first floor and roof. If you’ve not read or heard about the Bhutanese’ favorite good-luck symbol, here it is.
For comparison purposes, here are two other homes in Nabji village.
Neighbor's home from my bedroom window
Neighbor's house
To get to the living quarters, one climbed these steps.
Steps into Pelden's sister's home
On the main floor there was a kitchen, storage room, family sleeping room (no beds), guest bedroom with a set of twin beds, parlor/sitting room, and a room set aside for worship. Pelden said the guest room was only used by guests; I never found out if the room they set aside as my sitting room was used regularly or not by the family, but there was a pile of sleeping mats in the corner. Otherwise, it was empty.
Parlor? with door to the family's Buddhist shrine
There were several cabinets used for storage in the guest bedroom. One of them was beautifully painted.
The glass-fronted one to the right was filled with foodstuffs and other kitchen things. The items on the right are all thermoses–one for tea and three for hot food.
The windows had no glass, just sliding wooden panels.
Every family had chickens that started to crow at 4:30 a.m. (No sleeping in here!) and cows. This one also had donkeys.
There was a haystack close at hand.
The little tent housed the hole in the ground they erected for my use. I asked where the family went and he said it was nearby. Getting to this outhouse was not easy. I had to negotiate the steep steps, climb through the fence or over the wall of the enclosure for the cows and donkeys, negotiate with the chickens, and avoid all of their droppings.
From my window I could see the “public baths”–a tap to which everyone came with a bar of soap, towel, and toothbrushes. I believe most people had to haul their water from here, but some may have had a garden hose for piping some to their yards.
The one thing I was not prepared for both in Bhutan and Nepal was the lack of separation between people and farm animals. There are no barns, no stables, no chicken coops. It’s a free-for-all, so watch where you step and it’s a good idea to leave your shoes outside. It’s no wonder the water needs to be boiled.