like walking down roads with dogs on them. Dogs, and a clear sky above me.
When I return to Bhutan from England, I drive into Paro from the airport to get dog biscuits from one of the simple, kerb-side house-shop-bars. From there I begin my walk — first to the small roundabout at the edge of town, then right towards the simple bridge which passes over the Paro chu.
On the left side of the bridge, as I walk, is a house where boys have their hair cut, sitting outdoors on a wooden bench, hair dampened from a dip into a big metal bowl of water placed on the ground.
As I cross the bridge, I can tell the month by the level of water in the river bed, based on whether there are any large boulders exposed or hidden under stronger summertime currents. I enjoy the sound of water running, as if it’s through my very mind — cleaning it before I reach the opposite side.
The road continues ahead, straight and then turning right into the hills and clouds of Bhutan. At this stage, below the level of the simple unmarked road, lush green paddy fields spread out on either side, making the road a winding ribbon running through them. Rice fields moving, their sharp stalks shimmering in the sun before another soaking. A minute or two on and a few stray dogs cross the road, with their tails held aloft their enthusiasm for an outdoor life of uncertainty making me wish I had the same attitude.
As the road begins to take its winding course to the right, I reach my destination; the unchanging reason why I am always taking this road. Firstly, a simple archway, an enormous red-and-gold prayer wheel ready to sing its song, and the joyful wag of the thin black dog that lives there. We are entering the enclosure of the ancient temple of Dungtse Lhakhang, set back from the road and the river, in the midst of rice fields in Bhutan.
“Hello, hello, hello,” I greet my dog friend as he jumps around, knowing full well biscuits are next on the agenda. Perhaps we both know we are strays who have roamed in our time, and both come to rest here at this ancient quiet place.
I sit on the planked bench and open the biscuits. The road now behind me, carrying on its gentle business. I offer biscuits to my friend, and once again find myself marvelling at the beauty of a rounded temple, knowing that within its darkness lies a beautiful painting of a thousand-armed deity. Always there, waiting for me.
Emma Slade left a financial career to study yoga and meditation. Eventually, this led her to Bhutan, where she was ordained a Buddhist nun. Her inspirational story, Set Free: A Life-Changing Journey from Banking to Buddhism in Bhutan, has been enjoyed by many. In addition, she founded and runs the charity Opening Your Heart to Bhutan. More can be found at www.emmaslade.com.
