Wang River and Tashichho Dzong, 2002

I scramble up the road between the Wang River and the cows grazing along fairways of Thimphu's nine-hole golf course, hoping to reach the covered bridge near the dzong before the rain… ...I rush by an old woman with a basket of vegetables on her back, then a man leading a horse followed by a mangy dog. Just as the downpour begins I see my friend Ugyen Wangchuk whom everyone calls “Wangchu.” “Hey, Wangchu! Kuzuzangpo!” “Ku’zangpo John! What’s happening?” Wangchu, who studied English for a year in Hawaii, grabs my tripod as we run under the cover of the bridge. A slim, good-looking young man in a dark gho sewn from fashionable Bangkok cloth, Wangchu has an affable charm and bright smile that makes him instantly likable. A monk when he arrived in Hawaii, he left the monastery soon after returning to Bhutan, became a businessman, got married and learned the art of borrowing from Peter to pay Paul. One of the first phrases he learned in English, one he instantly understood, was “Go with the