I’m sure that yesterday, one of my young neighbours stole a packet of noodles. Ah, but let me tell my story from the end.
The rainy season flexed its muscles all the way down the mountain. We’d just been standing in the cloud at 4000m with Pierre, a visiting friend of Marie’s. There was little to see, but we were impressed that he’d managed to make it up to that altitude with so little trouble. I, on the other hand, was feeling the effects of the altitude. I was last up to the ridge above Phajoding, but that may have been because I was carrying the remaining 2.5 litres of water rather than oxygen lack. Either way, the walk up gave Pierre, who’s been in love with Bhutan ever since he was a child, a great first experience of his dream tour.
Yesterday evening, I was coming back from the shops with a packet of biscuits to sustain us on the climb. One of the neighbours, who often calls out as I go by, (‘Hi MAG! Bring your cycle, OK?’) pointed at his friend and said ‘He’s a very naughty boy.’ This brought to mind the Monty Python quote ‘He’s not the Mesiah…’ distracting me from putting the pieces together. The second boy had, a moment before, shown me the packet of instant noodles he was holding, apparently for no reason. And a few seconds before that, the group of them had rushed out of the store I’d been in, buying my biscuits. He’d come in after me and I hadn’t seen the shopkeeper pay him much attention other than to shoo him out of the shop.
So how’d he get the noodles? I doubt he bought them. I can only assume that this is another example of the crime that many Bhutanese don’t yet want to admit exists in their country.