Phobjikha, where?

Google Phobjikha. The first images that pop up are those of the vast U-shaped glacial valley with its lush marshes the meandering Black River in the center. This archetypal notion of the place as just the valley is super entrenched so much so that the whole gamut of Bhutanese travelogue describes just this wetland valley as Phobjikha.

And one has to agree. The Valley Proper is an epitome of rugged highland beauty. It is a vast vale of untamed wilderness where ferocious stray dogs scavenge for old bones alongside semi-wild mules grazing in lush, primula-laden meadows. The valley proper is also where most people think the enthralling black-necked cranes fly down from the Qinghai-Tibetan plateau to roost in the shallow marshlands in the winter. In addition, so many high hotels and famous homestay roost along with the cranes in the valley proper. No wonder then that the typical tourist who visits Phobjikha and stays in one of those fancy five-star resorts is awestruck by the beauty of Phobjikha– both real and imagined.

But what if I told you that there is a different Phobjikha albeit not altogether removed from the valley proper – either, geographically or culturally speaking?

It takes a little courage with getting out of one’s comfort zones of travelling, but if you let yourself be and embark on the road less traveled, you will discover a vastly more diverse Phobjikha tucked away in its numerous horse-shoe rings of Jowo Durshing’s coniferous ridges. I mean, one has to wonder where the serpentine Black River that flows north-easterly through the Valley goes, right?

Simply stated, Phobjikha is MUCH more than the valley. And here is why.

The roads end in Phobjikha but not in the valley. If you take the road less travelled away from the valley proper towards the north-east, the narrow farm-roads open into idyllic villages hanging onto gently sloping river valleys. These villages, with their very traditional houses set in between farmlands patterned by their border demarcations, and occasionally marked by stupas and temples, offer a glimpse into a subtly unique Phobjikha. And here too, one has to agree. Its vistas can quite literally take away one’s breath. Lives are different yet the people are equally, if not more, welcoming – weather-trained and hard-worked as they are.

So, my dear readers, I am probably biased but these are reasons why homestays, situated in those tucked-away corners of a different Phobjikha, are truly appealing. They are the best portal to an authentic and unique Phobjikha that supplements your experience in the valley. The even better part is that they are managed by the farmers themselves, and as is the truth elsewhere in Bhutan, these farmers, they have a simple desire to please. They open up the best of their homes with their traditional tastes and comforting modern twists.

And meanwhile, please do not worry. The cranes do visit these parts of Phobjikha too!

Bhutan prides itself on its Low Volume, High Impact model of tourism, but the truth of the matter is that it’s not just tourists who are in low volume. It is also the number of people who benefit from this lucrative industry. In the end, farmers whose beautiful homes get markets and exploited by large hotels and hotel chains are the ones who lose out. Knowing the Phobjikha is more than the valley is key to understanding how tourists can truly create impacts in the local community in addition to having fun.