Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
After running from city to city, I felt my whole body begin to relax as I drove along the
rural roads to Bhutan.
I could feel the stress of the previous few weeks dissipate. The stress of walking a
broken-down motorbike through clogged streets, the worry over finding a place to sleep,
the fear of being robbed or beaten or worse—all of it seemed to fade away into the deep
quiet of the Indian countryside and the steep mountain passes rising up to greet me, gently
reminding me of their strength.
My final night on the road before reaching Bhutan was spent in Kindness One, again. I
had been riding for so many hours that I just veered off the Indian death trap—otherwise
known to you and me as a road—and fell asleep. Apart from the trucks whizzing past me,
it was quite a good night's rest—as good as can be expected when your life is in the hands
of an army of sleep-deprived Indian truck drivers.
The day I had first found Bhutan on a map, I quickly dashed off an email to a friend,
who, through another other contact, connected me to one of the Bhutanese government
ministers. They had graciously emailed the minister, explaining my trip and how I felt that
Bhutan was my Shangri-la, how it spoke to the very nature of my journey. And how it
showed that kindness wasn't just a gesture between people, but that it could also be the
foundation for an entire country.
After a few weeks, I had nearly forgotten that the email had been sent when we received
a response from someone at the Minister of Environment's office. Even he spoke the lan-
guage of kindness, explaining in his email that the whole world lives in goodness; cruelty
is the distraction. He told me that my story was at the heart of Bhutan's beliefs and that he
couldn't wait to meet me to hear more about my journey.
Yes, sometimes the computer
can
connect people.
And six months later, there I was in Bhutan. The building where the minister worked
was a simple bungalow at the foot of a very tall mountain. I could feel my heart begin to
race as I walked into the windowless conference room where we would be meeting.
When the minister entered the room, I felt the weird yet comforting sense that I had been
there before. In many ways, it was like what I had always wanted home to feel like: safe
and loving with no judgment or fear. I had ached for this my whole life, and now as I sat
across the table talking about a culture that believed in finding the joy in every moment, in
creating kindness through connection, I knew that it wasn't home I had been running from;
it was a different kind of home that I had been running to.
