The Mighty Phallus...
Trip Start
Nov 01, 2007
1
10
27
Trip End
Apr 05, 2008
WangduePhodrang,
Bhutan
Monday, December 24, 2007
the mighty phallus itself!
Here in Bhutan, I (the unsuspecting female) was expected to be thankful for the good fortune this 'blessing' would bring me. Hmmm... not sure about that! Through a translator, I explained to the gleeful men wielding the mighty phallus that enhanced fertility was not my definition of good fortune at this point in my life and that, really, I'd be quite happy with a cat. Naturally this elicited loud guffaws all round as the gathering crowd slapped each other on the back, shaking their heads at the strange ways of the foreign woman.
festival drummer
I had unexpectedly found myself at a tiny village festival in the countryside. L. Dorje and Tashi, were taking me to visit the ruined dzong of Drukgyel when we heard the rhythm of a beating drum emanating from the traditional houses of a roadside village. Climbing down the path leading to the cultivated terraces behind the houses, we found ourselves amidst a group of villagers dressed in their finest 'ghos' and 'kiras', the traditional Bhutanese costume, the men draped in the ceremonial scarf and the women modelling their finest jewellery.
men at festival
The drum beat was rising from the centre of the crowd so I slowly wiggled through to gain a grandstand view of the action: a ceremony being performed by the village shaman as she swayed in a trance to the pounding of the swinging beater on the double-sided drum she was turning before an altar of modelled rice and butter. Her actions would bring the village protection and good fortune for the next two years but, hypnotic as her movements were, my attention was drawn to the fascinating expressions on the faces around me: the children wide-eyed in their absorption, the women evidently engrossed in the ritual, and the men... well, some of them were paying attention, but more of them were just being men, lurking in the background, swigging from bottles of cloudy and evidently potent brew. 
the two who bestowed their 'blessings' on me
girl at festival with best jewellery on show
Once the ceremony was done, the throng loosened and I tried to converse with some of the villagers, including a rotund man with teeth stained red from betel nut, and slightly glazed eyes but it was at this point that he grabbed the fertility totem carved into the end of a long, decorated pole and struck me twice on the forehead with it before lowering his aim. I regretted having missed the earlier part of the ceremony when the fertility symbol was used: I would like to have witnessed the local women's reaction and it might have prepared me for being accosted myself! But before I had time to collect myself, his altogether more serious-looking pal appeared and repeated the performance! Oh God, 'blessed' twice, and one of those by someone taking it all very seriously... I had better be careful! 
how protective does that appear?!
The theme for the day was
protective penises
the male anatomy. As we drove through a couple of villages, Tashi pointed out the painted shapes on the house walls: typical Bhutanese and Buddhist symbols including the tiger, the conch shell, the dragon... and the male genitalia? What was this obsession with men's bits? He explained that a 'protective penis' painted on a house absorbs any bad luck, preventing the negative energy from actually entering the house. Hmmm... didn't look very protective to me, looked quite lethal, in fact!And then it was L. Dorje's turn.
"That is me!" he declared, indicating a large painted member.
"Sorry?" (Was he alluding to the size of his own manhood or was I missing something?)
"It is my name!" he explained.
"L. Dorje?" (I was under the impression that 'Dorje' meant thunderbolt...well, maybe there was a connection...)
a ribbon for the best protector?
He proceeded to tell me how he had been given the name 'Longchoitla' (meaning 'wealth') by his parents but when he enrolled at school his Indian teacher misunderstood the pronunciation and entered his name on his official documents as 'Longchula' (unfortunately meaning 'penis'). These were the papers that served as the basis for all future official dealings and so he was stuck with it, finally abbreviating it to the initial L, after one too many snigger. Well, can you blame him?! 
