This post has been sitting as a draft for some time. Thought I should let it go now.



When I first told people that I was heading to the landlocked Himalayan Kingdom of Bhutan, the reactions were polar opposites of enthusiastic interest vs complete ignorance:

"Wow, lucky you / I've always wanted to go!" or "Huh? Where's that??"

I think I've discovered why. The Land of the Thunder Dragon is a very special place that leaves a deep impression, and once you've known or experienced it, you'll make sure you (and whomever you regale with your adventures) never forget what it's like.

Bhutan's sense of identity and spirituality is still delightfully strong. I love how it is a requirement for citizens to wear their traditional dress if they visit public places like dzongs or monasteries, work in government or schools, and on formal occasions. Particularly, too, the fact that architecture is subject to the Driglam Namzha, which codifies the design and construction of buildings from dzongs to homes. And as the "last bastion of Vajrayana Buddhism", Bhutan has no shortage of commemorative chortens, simple offerings wedged into cliffside rocks, and prayer flags just about everywhere. We even encountered a prostrating pilgrim along the dusty mountain passes, making his way between towns. You know how you can tell a lot about people by the way they treat their animals? The average Bhutanese is far from wealthy. But they possess a kindness, generosity and respect towards animals and even insects that'd put many of us to shame. They do not take it for granted that other creatures exist for our use and consumption. They share the same food, often in the same space, with them. Perhaps that's also why, even though the street and mountain dogs are big, strong and beefy, even they seem to have happy faces and are so trusting towards strange humans who cross their paths. But compassion and understanding runs high for fellow humans too: would you or your regular (nowadays, imported) bus driver suddenly stop the vehicle just to get down and hand over some leftover lunch to random people living alongside the road? And maybe ask them how their day was?

Singapore's population density is bursting its seams at 7,257/km² (Dept of Statistics, 2011). Bhutan's by contrast is a comfy 18.91/km² (World Bank, 2010) - comparable to New Zealand which I absolutely loved, but you have to consider that Bhutan is so much smaller, has a much less developed infrastructure, and its northern Himalayan region is really not that hospitable. How wonderful it was to not have to jostle with crowds, have room to breathe, and admire the people-free landscape. Despite this, however, evidence of humanity can be seen almost everywhere. Strange, because I thought Bhutan was relatively ecologically aware (just think about how global warming would transform their glaciers to serious flood risks in the valleys where the majority of the population is). Though tough anti-smoking laws ensure that the streets remain mostly smoke- and butt-free, other trash, mostly in the form of plastic drink bottles and food wrappers, can be found choking up small waterways and off forest paths (even though there are plenty of litter bins there). Many parts of winding mountain roads also reveal exposed slopes, random tree stumps, airborne sand and dust from construction sites, etc. It didn't feel as pristine as it should.

Thoughts that have been filling my head for the past couple of weeks go back to why we have so much clutter in our lives. Being in Bhutan, I felt like such a complicated outsider with a load of unnecessary trappings. Why do I have so many gadgets with me? Why do I carry so many things in my bag? Why did I use to be so fussy about food (truth be told, I ate everything I was served there, except the super spicy chili cheese)? Why, oh why, do I have so many distractions? The answer is - because they're available, right? Temptations. I never felt so free in Bhutan. There were practically no malls. No food halls, no beauty halls. No fast food whatsoever. No Zaras, no Watsons, no Guccis or Bottega Venetas. In other words, no stupid shit to get in the way of trying to be a normal human being. Just humble little "general" stores selling stuff that people use to get by every day. Farmers with their livestock and terraced plots. Monks leading lives of austerity. I didn't even feel very hungry most of the time, not even after trekking. There was just too much else to drink in - or, in a way, the simplicity was mildly staggering. I will say though, that mobile call quality is superb and GSM reception is impeccable, even at over 3500m. Our local operators should be ashamed.

I believe Bhutan is something of a much sought after travel destination at the moment, but I just can't help worrying about how the rapid opening up and influx of foreign culture, ideals and lifestyles, mostly through modern media, will impact this unique and formerly isolated land. And with a relatively small population of just 700,000, many of whom are educated and in their 20s, you can be sure changes are going to come quick. I get sad when people confuse Western (read: American) culture with modernisation, as if it's the benchmark against which to compare everything else. Surely, there must be a way to achieve a better standard of living without losing sight of one's origins and uniqueness? But what do I know, this is Singapore after all... just look at us.

As I didn't keep a day-to-day handwritten journal this time (my journal cover is falling apart - even though I patched it up and took it with me, didn't feel compelled to use it), it's probably useful for me to make a record of our adventures in my blog, as I have done for most other trips. Shall endeavour to do so in the next post or two.

*knock knock*

*blows off dust*

Wow. It's been way too long. Not that I think anyone's still following this blog! But I think I might still, from time to time, add a few posts here that really matter to me just to know that I'm still capable of stringing more than 140 characters together - i.e. no more lame, self-indulgent whining. Except that today, May 15th, is D3-day of all days, and here I am trying to resurrect my mouldy blog!

Now that that's out of the way, I just wanted to share some thoughts about a hot yin yoga class I recently sampled. I have been a yin advocate since lessons became available in 2006. Well, to whoever cares to listen anyway. Most of my friends aren't interested, despite my grave warnings about how much damage their body is sustaining in day-to-day life.

For those who don't know, this branch of yoga is influenced by the Taoist concepts of yin and yang. Muscles that basically move our skeleton being the yang tissue, and ligaments that hold the bones together being the yin. On a physical level, we basically hold stretches to the joints (in order to re-condition our ligaments and unblock the qi) for extended periods of time. No muscular effort should be involved in order to get the maximum benefit. In short, it's the counterpoint to the other styles of yoga that you might be more familiar with. The more we work our muscles (and this includes unconsciously tensing the shoulders while seated at a desk), the tighter our yin tissues tend to feel - body strength does not come bundled with joint flexibility. As I fully intend to be able to touch my toes or squat comfortably in my old age, I take this practice seriously.

You should also know that yin yoga is usually practised in a dark room, and that we tend to feel cold after the session because the muscles aren't used so the body doesn't warm up at all. So when I saw this hot yin class, I was beyond sceptical since it seems a total oxymoron and goes against everything to which I've so far been exposed. I've attended many a hot yoga class, and if that's not the ultimate yang workout, I don't know what is. Our muscular tissue reacts to heat, becoming more pliable, and when these muscles are active, it becomes difficult to isolate and activate the deep-seated, less elastic connective yin tissues.

So I guess it wasn't a surprise that I didn't really feel anything in the class beyond a gentle stretchy yoga class for beginners, mildly intolerable because of the stifling heat and the unfortunate feeling that I wasn't getting anywhere. Whatever stretch I felt at certain points most certainly did not last with me through the day, as do the ones from a normal yin class. I did not feel as open, nor did I feel I had an effective workout. In short, this confusing style is neither here nor there.

I don't think I will be attending any further hot yin classes. You can only do 2-in-1 to a certain extent anyways, and, in my humble opinion, not for this.

It's that time of the year when I inevitably feel painfully sentimental. I've been thinking back to past travels, Italy and Hokkaido in particular - although that could very well be due to their delicious cuisine - and it really didn't seem that long ago. But it was, and the memories are already receding.

Speaking of travel, 2010 was when I realised that it can also be fun if part of or even the sole purpose is to enjoy each other's company. And I'm talking about groups of at least 4-5. All along, I've planned my trips around taking in as many sights of this big, big world as possible. But sometimes a different agenda - or rather, no agenda at all - is a refreshing change, I guess.

All in all, you could say that 2010 has been a year in which I've just let go of expectations. (Also, it's been a year of aging, but we do not speak of it.)

Yesterday, WG activated puppy mode and kindly accompanied me around as I ran errands. True to form, we managed a visit to the Children Little Museum at 42 Bussorah Street. It houses vintage toys and related paraphernalia that I seriously don't think anyone born in the 80s would appreciate.

Some toys were familiar even though I did not own them (there was quite a kampung flavour). Remember the games we used to play? Hopscotch, five stones, pick-up-sticks - all designed to train one's balance, agility and hand-eye coordination. Kuti-kuti and god knows what other boys' toys to develop strategic thinking. Toy telephones, typewriters, cash registers, baby dolls and prams because every little kid wants desperately to grow up and do grown-up things. These days, a single video console manages ALL that and more via bits and bytes. Yes, it was a very different era before PS3s, MP3s and iPhone4s.

Here are some snaps (yes, the curator is very insistent that one takes loads of photos but I'm not complaining, it makes business sense for him anyway):



All this and much more for only $2 admission. Check it out if you're in the area.

Drink with me to days gone by
To the life that used to be

At the shrine of friendship
Never say die

Let the wine of friendship
Never run dry

Here's to you
And here's to me