Last night my teacher friends and I piled into a van that looked like a mini VW. We stopped off at a bakery and bought some mushroom turnovers, and we grabbed a few bottles of wine. I was super excited to open the bottle with the label that said “Santa Barbara”. I found out they pronounce it “Santa Baury”. Should’ve read the fine print to see that it was Indian wine that resembled cough syrup.
We headed up a huge hill that overlooked the city and parked near the Giant Buddha, which is large enough to be seen from the valley of Thimpu. We laughed, ate, drank, and sang along to some Bhutanese favorites such as Sheryl Crow.
We crashed at our friends place and all woke up cursing the Indian wine. I asked my friend to pass me the pitcher of water next to her. “You can’t drink that! It’s the holy water they use to pray at the cheshun” (which is the place in their room that they pray and give offerings). Instead we had boiled water, which was a double edged sword as I tried to drink the hot water as fast as my esophagus would let me. For someone who is not very religious, holy water sounded damn good!