Considered Bhutan’s cultural and spiritual heartland, the four valleys of Bumthang offer a window into the traditional lifestyle and way of hospitality found in the Himalayan kingdom.

Photographs by Matt Dutile

*Left to right*: A closeup of a lama’s robe; Jigme Choden and her granddaughter Pema in front of their ancestral home in the Shingkar Valley.

We’ve been standing no more than a few minutes on a ridgeline overlooking Jakar, the largest town in the Bumthang district, when nine-year-old Tsheyang Pema Lhazin ambles over and launches into a litany of questions. Where are we from? What are we doing? Do we want to see her math and English books from class 3A?

When I tell her about my mission to file a magazine story on Bumthang, she replies, “Oh that’s nice, even though it is cold. I have a happy life here. I like this place, even though my country is small.” We’re soon invited up the hill for tea with the precocious youth and her grandparents. Over the next hour and a half, we listen, smiling, as she shares her infectious energy for education and her home country. “I want to be a teacher,” she tells us matter-of-factly.

Encounters like these are a daily occurrence throughout my week in north-central Bhutan with guide Yeshey Dorji of Trogon Travels and our driver Kinga, who only goes by one name. Having passed through the area on previous trips, I’ve returned to Bumthang — one of 20 districts that make up this small Himalayan nation — to meditate at cliff-hugging lhakhang (temples), marvel at the imposing nagtshang (manor houses) of well-to-do families, and bask in the warm embrace of Bhutanese hospitality.

Comprising the four valleys of Choekhor, Chumey, Tang, and Ura, Bumthang is revered as both the geographic and spiritual center of Bhutan. The district owes much of its religious significance to the ninth-century visit of Guru Rinpoche, the principal founder of Tibetan Buddhism, who was invited here to rid the local king of a deity’s curse. Over the following centuries, other religious luminaries such as Pema Lingpa and the great Tibetan sage Longchen Rabjam established monastic schools in Bumthang and revealed more sacred sites associated with Guru Rinpoche. More than a few of the kingdom’s holiest temples rest within these valleys.

While Bumthang is a full day’s drive from the Bhutanese capital of Thimphu, we opt for the express route: a half-hour turboprop flight from Paro International Airport. After touching down in Jakar, a selected this cinematic landscape as the location for his 2023 political satire The Monk and the Gun, an Oscar-shortlisted retelling of Bhutan’s first elections in 2006. In the film, timeless scenes of rural life provide a picturesque backdrop to the drama as villagers get acquainted with the vagaries of the democratic process. I’m told many members of the public were cast in the film, including our driver Kinga.

*Left to right*: Lam Neten Kinley Penjor, the spiritual head of Bumthang; looking out onto a misty Tang Valley from Ogyen Choling.

We arrive just in time for dinner at Ura Bangpa Farmhouse, a charming homestay run by Tashi Wangmo and her family. Before long, our host sets out a spread of traditional Bhutanese dishes at a low, square table next to the kitchen hearth. There’s the red rice and ema datshi (a fiery dish of chili and cheese) that Bhutan is most famous for, alongside fresh spinach and mustard greens, fiddlehead ferns with cheese from the farm’s cows, flour noodles with onion leaves and rattan pepper, a steaming bowl of dal, and floury rolls of spring onions and cheese with chili peppers. I’ve never gone hungry on any of my previous visits to Bhutan, and it certainly doesn’t look like I will here. Upstairs, the spacious guest rooms feature warm blankets and little heaters to ward off the chill of colder nights at 3,100 meters above sea level.

I awake to find rivers of morning fog flowing over fields of mustard greens and enveloping the earthen-hued homes. We’ve enlisted Tashi Wangmo’s daughter Pema to guide us around Ura and the neighboring Shingkhar Valley, a 35-minute drive away. As our vehicle crests a small pass, I glimpse pink and yellow-hued rhododendrons, then fields that ring a small cluster of houses amid blossoming peach trees. Pema’s grandmother, Jigme Choden, is waiting to greet us outside one of Shingkhar’s most imposing residences, its facade mirrored by a similarly sized temple.

The matriarch is descended from Shingkhar Lam, local lords who trace their lineage to the 14th-century Buddhist master Longchen Rabjam, or Longchenpa as he’s colloquially known. She is the 18th generation of her family to inherit the estate, and has lived here almost continuously since birth, 77 years ago. “We only left for a few years when my father served as secretary to the third King in Thimphu and helped to write the national anthem,” she explains through Pema.

We’re shown the estate’s altar room, a feature of most Bhutanese homes, with circular drums and cabinets holding bound scrolls topped by statues of the Buddha, Zhabdrung (the unifier of Bhutan), and Guru Rinpoche in a vividly detailed shrine. “It’s important to preserve traditional homes like this one,” Choden tells us. “Otherwise, it would become a time capsule, and our history, the history of this country, might be lost forever.”

The temple directly opposite is just as fascinating. Longchenpa taught on this site and built a small retreat that evolved into Dechen Ling, one of the eight ling or “grand palaces of happiness” he founded in Bhutan. We circumambulate the structure three times before a caretaker lets us into the sanctuary, lit only by flickering butter lamps and filtered light streaming through a handful of narrow windows. Dried rice, scattered on the floorboards from a recent ritual, crunches underfoot. A statue of Longchenpa sits enthroned in the center of the room.

After wolfing down a packed lunch, we backtrack to Ura and its defining temple, whose caretaker has given us special permission to see the collection of historic masks inside. They are taken down from the walls just once a year and adorned by monks during Yak Choe, a five-day festival held in honor of the yak god. Up to 7,000 people flock here from around Bumthang to witness the masked monks twirling and leaping through the air in colorfully patterned garments. All is quiet at the time of my visit, but I’m lucky enough to catch a traditional Bhutanese dance later that week.

*Left to right:* A guest room at Amankora Bumthang Lodge; a mask at the Ura Lhakhang monastery.

En route to the Tang Valley the next morning, we shout out ha gyello (a chant to the gods) at the 3,600-meter-high Shertang La pass, where the views stretch all the way to Gangkhar Puensom, Bhutan’s tallest peak and the highest unclimbed mountain in the world. The name of the sacred 7,570-meter summit translates to “White Peak of the Three Spiritual Brothers.” Nature and religion are ever tied together in this Himalayan kingdom.

Our first stop in Tang is Bebzur Chukpo, the dignified home of a formerly wealthy merchant family with a small collection of antique heirlooms. Then it’s time to hike up to Kuenzang Drak, whose imposing temples are built directly into the vertiginous mountainside over a spiritual cave once used by Pema Lingpa. Back along the road sits another meditation site and temple, Ta Rimochen, named for the streaks on a rock face that resemble tiger stripes. Famished from the morning’s excursions, we sit down for lunch at the shop and home of my guide’s sister-in-law, Gyem Zangmo, who used to own a restaurant in Jakar. Our unassuming meal is a satisfying buffet of Bumthang specialties: potato and chili datshi, spring onion rolls, dried pork, cheese-smothered carrots, and an intensely aromatic dal. I down a shameful number of bowls before Yeshey suggests that it’s time to get back on the road.

When I visited this valley two years ago, I was deeply impressed by the size and beauty of Ogyen Choling, one of the best-preserved manor houses in all of Bhutan. Enclosed by a set of rectangular buildings that once served as living quarters, grain storage, and utility spaces, an imposing four-story utse (central tower) rises from the courtyard, facing a two-story ling temple built over the spot where Longchenpa gave sermons nearly 700 years ago. Formerly an armory and family quarters, the tower now houses a museum with a robust collection of exhibits illustrating daily life as it once was — everything from utilitarian objects like pots and pans to heirloom textiles, arms and armor, and festival masks.

Ogyen Choling served as a prominent estate for more than a century. But as feudal holdings were disbanded and serfdom abolished in the 1950s, the cost of maintaining such a grand property became nearly insurmountable. The landmark would not have survived without the efforts of Kunzang Choden, one of Bhutan’s most respected literary authors and the 20th generation of her family to inherit the property. She’s there to welcome me on my return visit, and to help refresh my memory about the estate’s conversion.

*Left to right*: The massive central tower of Ogyen Choling; Zangmo and her daughter.

“We began preservation work on the museum in the ’90s, and then in 1996 we started to think about what would go in what rooms,” she recounts. “We opened in 2002, but we soon realized the museum didn’t earn enough for the upkeep on its own, so we opened the guest house in 2014, and that is how we bring in the remittances that keep us afloat.”

Tucked inside the former granary and family quarters, guest rooms at Ogyen Choling retain their original masonry and restored decorative beams, but also come with quilted blankets and a wooden desk with a Swiss Alpine chair. The toilets were similarly brought in from Europe — a nod to Choden’s time in Switzerland with her Swiss husband Walter Roder.

I spend the rest of the afternoon exploring the museum’s artifacts and meditating inside the temple. The steady chime of a prayer wheel rings out from the courtyard. A sense of peace comes over me as I follow the beautiful murals coating every inch of the walls, depicting Guru Rinpoche resting on a lotus in paradise; his more wrathful, deity-taming forms; and legions of devotees. Joining me at the temple, Choden explains why Tang is such a sacred place for Bhutanese pilgrims. It’s believed that Guru Rinpoche began his legendary flight to Taktsang (Tiger’s Nest) from here, while Pema Lingpa, the only Bhutanese member of the five “treasure discoverers” who followed in his wake, hailed from this very valley.

It’s clear that Tang is also a tightly knit community. On a stroll through the village the next morning, I’m repeatedly invited into homes to share the ubiquitous nga ja milk tea and trade stories. At Ugyen Tshomo’s, a 66-year-old weaver with a scarf wrapped around her head in the Bumthap style, she tells me how much, and how little, Tang has changed. “After the 1960s, when the heavy taxation stopped, life became much easier.” Tshomo recalls the absence of paved roads during her childhood, and adds that electricity arrived in the area just 15 years ago. “Our children go to work in Thimphu and Paro — my daughter is a teacher there — but they come back for holidays, and eventually retire here.” Looking out at the farmhouses and the green stalks of buckwheat swaying in the breeze, it’s not hard to understand why former residents make their way back to Tang after carving out a life for themselves in the towns out west.

*Left to right*: Tsheyang Pema Lhazin in Jakar; the cliffside Thowa Drak Temple.

Following a relaxed lunch in Ogyen Choling’s gardens — where guests can pick their own vegetables for meals — we drive an hour north on a potholed road tracing the course of the Tang Chhu river. Kinga jokes about a free massage as we’re jostled to and fro. Our destination is the trailhead for the 375-meter ascent to Thowa Drak, home to a meditation cave associated with Guru Rinpoche. Soon enough we’re bounding up the trail, passing red, pink, and white rhododendron trees that daub the forest with brushes of bright color. Along the way, signposts mark out various impressions in the rock said to be left by the Buddhist master or trials associated with mischievous dakini (female spirits).

The Thowa Drak temple is perched on a crag that resembles the top of a phurba, a ritual dagger used in Vajrayana Buddhism to drive away the poisons of greed, delusion, and ignorance. Inside the gates, Lama Khempo Palden Phuntsho beckons us to sit on padded mats for tea as we marvel, wide-eyed, at the vibrant murals painted directly onto the natural rock. “Whenever you go to a pilgrimage site, if you can devote yourself wholeheartedly to the wellbeing of all sentient beings, you should do so,” he counsels us. “If you appreciate others, that appreciation will come back to you.”

After some time spent in reflection, and lighting a butter lamp in service of that appreciation, he leads us outside the temple around a precarious ledge strewn with weathered prayer flags. It is here that Thowa Drak reveals its full beauty. Clinging to a forested cliff, the temple strikes me as a smaller counterpart of Taktsang. We take in a few more holy sites — a stream of spring water, an impression in the rock where it’s said that Guru Rinpoche meditated ahead of his flight to Taktsang — before we ourselves fly back down the mountain to Ogyen Choling, with its fresh farm meals and cozy heated rooms.

*Left to right*: Aum Tshomo outside her Choekhar Valley farmhouse; a view of Shingkhar village.

By noon the following day, we’ve hit the road for Choekhor, the largest and most prominent valley in Bumthang. Its main town, Jakar, is a bustling commercial hub compared to Tang and Ura. Hotels, guest houses, and shops of every nature line the streets. Jakar is bisected by Bhutan’s East-West Highway, whose construction brought industries like beer and cheese making to Choekhor. My next appointment is a rustic farmhouse lunch in Dorjibi village orchestrated by Amankora Bumthang, the easternmost of five Bhutanese lodges operated by the Aman group. Our host, 54-year-old Aum Tshomo, gained her culinary knowledge from her father, who served as the third King’s head chef. “I didn’t go to school,” she tells us. “I stayed home helping my parents. That’s how I learned the recipes and how to cook.”

Spread out before us is a banquet of Bumthang specialties presented in metal pots: ema, kewa, and nakay datshi, dried chilies, khulee (buckwheat pancakes), jangbuli (wheat noodles with coriander and spring onion), puta (buckwheat noodles), noshanyazam (ground beef), and a hearty helping of red rice. Yeshey says it is some of the finest Bhutanese food he’s ever had. Tshomo glows at our compliments, revealing with a smile that when the fourth King comes to Jakar, he’ll only have puta, jangbuli, and ema datshi from here.

An hour later, after one too many buckwheat pancakes, we’re off to check in at Amankora Bumthang. The ultra-luxe lodge contains just 16 suites with plush king beds, wood-burning metal stoves, and large picture windows looking out onto Wangduecholing Palace, the birthplace of the first King of Bhutan. That evening, I’m joined by Amankora’s head chef Tshering Phuntsho and a handful of fellow guests at the communal table in the crimson-walled dining room. An exhaustive conversation about the history of Ura’s Shingkhar Lam transpires over dinner, then we move to the outdoor fire pit for a fireside dance by a chorus of singing ladies, with a traditional masked dance to follow. While one performer methodically clashes a pair of cymbals together, three costumed dancers dip and twirl, banging their own drums with every rise and fall, their multihued clothing and animalistic masks catching the firelight as they spin. It’s a hypnotic sight.

A traditional mask dance performed in the courtyard at Amankora Bumthang Lodge.

*Left to right*: Lama Tenzin Wangchuk at the Jambay Lhakhang temple in Choekhor; a Bhutanese lunch.

Our final full day in Bumthang is spent touring Choekhor’s myriad holy sites. We visit Jakar Dzong, the thick-walled monastic fortress that dominates the skyline; admire the murals and preserved masks encircling two levels of Tamshing Lhakhang; and step inside Shug Drak, another of Guru Rinpoche’s meditation caves. Then there’s Jambay Lhakhang, the oldest temple in Bhutan. Legend has it that the seventh-century inner sanctuary — along with 107 other Himalayan temples — was built by a set of gods, dakini, and demons in one day to suppress an ogress who lay across the landscape. Lama Tenzin Wangchuk walks its hallowed hallways with us as he explains the virtues of monastic life, a journey the 39-year-old began at the tender age of eight. “I belong to a family of monks,” he says. “I enjoy it because life is short and uncertain. Life is not in our hands. But when I am here, when I can follow the Buddha’s path and practice the rituals, that is my happiness.”

Five minutes down the road lies another of Bhutan’s holiest temples, Kurjey Lhakhang. The first three kings of Bhutan were laid to rest here, and it was in this place that Guru Rinpoche is said to have meditated for three months, leaving behind an imprint of his body. We’ve arrived to find a congregation of monks chanting and partaking in a ritual that will last for 15 days. Lam Neten Kinley Penjor, the spiritual head of Bumthang, tells me you don’t have to be a devout Buddhist to benefit from a pilgrimage here. “You receive the same spiritual energy no matter your faith,” he declares. “It is always a positive to visit the sacred sites of Guru Rinpoche.”

Ahead of our nine-hour drive back to Paro the next day, we navigate the switchbacks above the Chumey Valley toward Tharpaling Monastery, home to another of Longchenpa’s eight ling temples. More than 40 students aged 16 to 28 study at the attached shedra (school), where three teenage novices welcome us into their room. “I wanted to learn about the Buddha, and I liked the philosophy, to realize the contribution of all sentient beings and pray for peace,” Bumthang-born Sonam Wangdak tells me.

That kind of altruism seems to be sorely missing in hard-nosed cities like New York, where I live. But from my time exploring the heartlands of Bhutan, it is the words of nine-year-old Tsheyang Pema Lhazin that will linger with me most: “Bumthang may be small but it can be really special. Every day it gives us new things to imagine.”

Young monks at the Kurjey Lhakhang monastery in Jakar.

*Left to right*: Butter lamps at the Tharpaling Monastery; students at the shedra (monastic school) at the Tharpaling Monastery.

Bumthang Basics

GETTING THERE

Bhutan’s sole international airport is in Paro. National flag carrier Drukair (drukair.com.bt) flies there from Singapore (via Guwahati, India) and Bangkok.

NEED TO KNOW

All visitors to Bhutan are required to pay a US$100 Sustainable Development Fee. It’s also mandatory to hire a guide and driver for all journeys beyond Thimphu and Paro.

WHERE TO STAY

Amankora Bumthang Lodge
The easternmost of Aman’s quintet of lodges in Bhutan, the Amankora sits next to the 19th-century Wangduecholing Palace in Choekhor, with 16 wood-paneled suites equipped with freestanding terrazzo tubs (from US$1,900 a night, all-inclusive).

Ura Bangpa Farmhouse
Authentic hospitality and tasty farm-to-table meals await at this Ura Valley homestay (from US$50 a night, full board).

Ogyen Choling Heritage House
Tang Valley’s Ogyen Choling manor has guest rooms spread across three of its buildings, all with modern amenities and rustic wooden furnishings (from US$75 a night, full board).

This article originally appeared in the August/September 2024 print issue of DestinAsian magazine (“Friends in High Places”).

Enthralling Encounters in Bumthang