I got back from Bhutan two nights ago, and I'm experiencing a kind of unshakable malaise. I'm still sick from the trip, and my one project for tomorrow is to make an appointment with the doctor to get my liver checked out. I'm also probably somewhat under the sway of jetlag, but I haven't had any sleeplessness... rather, I've had the opposite problem. Sleeping far too much. I sleep ten or more hours at night, and nap in the evening after I get home from work. I never sleep this much.
I do think I'm experiencing my usual post-trip grief... Bhutan is different, though. It was a place so beautiful, so different, and in many ways, so unexpected, that I just cannot shake the hold it has on me. The knowledge that I'll probably never be able to go back is sad. By the time I can afford to travel to Bhutan again, if ever, it will have changed to the point that it will be almost unrecognizable. It is a nation in the throes of puberty, and its charm will never be the same as it is now.
I took some photos, but the things that have held on to me the most are the kinds of things that one cannot take photos of, and I have notes for writing about the experiences that I had, but even words cannot capture some of the things that I saw and felt while I was there, and the idea that these things will be locked away in my head until they are destroyed or made unrecognizable by the fallibility and malleability of human memory leaves me sad, gripped by a kind of future deja vu.
Here are some photos.