As I waved goodbye to the chile lady (Bhutanese Adventures Part 2), I turned my attention back to the farmhouse that I was originally drawn to. Was anyone home? The front door was open. I wandered closer, admiring the attention that had been given to the upkeep of the house and grounds. Forever drawn to color, I snapped a few shots of some bundles of chiles drying near some closed windows. I stepped back and made a few shots of the house front with the melons, t
he neatly stacked lumber and firewood, and a cat.
I waited and watched and noticed a body move by inside the house. The person had not seen me. I continued to watch and the hunched over body of an old, white haired woman moved by the door again. I waved over my guide, Phuentsho. I told him that I’d seen the woman and I asked him to see if he might be able to engage her and get her into the doorway where I could stealthily make a photograph of her in front of her home.
Phuentsho marched up to the door and politely called for the woman. She came to the door, but stayed a few
steps inside where she was still in the shadows. Now I could see her face. This woman has seen a lot I thought. She’s seen some change. I’ll bet she could tell some incredible stories. Phuentsho asked in Bhutanese “How much are the melons?” The woman stepped closer to the doorway and replied, “They’re not for sale”. This led to more conversation and the woman slowly stepped further and further forward until she was in the perfect, soft, wrap around light of the doorway. I shot away while she and Phuentsho chatted.
Pretty soon she was stepping out of her house and sitting down on the steps. She was tiny. Her mouth was stained red from a life of chewing bettlenut ( a common Bhutanese practice ) and she was dressed in the traditional female Bhutanese outfit, the kira. A kira is a large piece of woven cloth that is wrapped around the body in a series of folds. It is held in place by a two-part brooch with a connecting chain, the koma. This woman’s koma really caught my eye. It was beautifully and intricately hand crafted.
I asked Phuentsho to see if it was OK for me to continue photographing.
She said it was fine. I was standing pretty 
close now, maybe 6 feet away from her. Regardless of the permission she’d given, part of me still felt the intrusiveness of the camera in my hands. I photographed quickly, capturing an image and then dropping the camera to nod and gesture, even though I could not understand a word of the conversation. She asked some questions about me to Phuentsho. I replied through him. When we were finished and left her home, I could see that a neighbor was going to drive some cows in front of her home. To complete the story, I positioned myself and snapped a last shot of the woman and her house in the distance with the cows in the foreground- another satisfying day of discovery in the “real Bhutan”. 
he neatly stacked lumber and firewood, and a cat.I waited and watched and noticed a body move by inside the house. The person had not seen me. I continued to watch and the hunched over body of an old, white haired woman moved by the door again. I waved over my guide, Phuentsho. I told him that I’d seen the woman and I asked him to see if he might be able to engage her and get her into the doorway where I could stealthily make a photograph of her in front of her home.
Phuentsho marched up to the door and politely called for the woman. She came to the door, but stayed a few
steps inside where she was still in the shadows. Now I could see her face. This woman has seen a lot I thought. She’s seen some change. I’ll bet she could tell some incredible stories. Phuentsho asked in Bhutanese “How much are the melons?” The woman stepped closer to the doorway and replied, “They’re not for sale”. This led to more conversation and the woman slowly stepped further and further forward until she was in the perfect, soft, wrap around light of the doorway. I shot away while she and Phuentsho chatted.
Pretty soon she was stepping out of her house and sitting down on the steps. She was tiny. Her mouth was stained red from a life of chewing bettlenut ( a common Bhutanese practice ) and she was dressed in the traditional female Bhutanese outfit, the kira. A kira is a large piece of woven cloth that is wrapped around the body in a series of folds. It is held in place by a two-part brooch with a connecting chain, the koma. This woman’s koma really caught my eye. It was beautifully and intricately hand crafted.I asked Phuentsho to see if it was OK for me to continue photographing.
She said it was fine. I was standing pretty 
close now, maybe 6 feet away from her. Regardless of the permission she’d given, part of me still felt the intrusiveness of the camera in my hands. I photographed quickly, capturing an image and then dropping the camera to nod and gesture, even though I could not understand a word of the conversation. She asked some questions about me to Phuentsho. I replied through him. When we were finished and left her home, I could see that a neighbor was going to drive some cows in front of her home. To complete the story, I positioned myself and snapped a last shot of the woman and her house in the distance with the cows in the foreground- another satisfying day of discovery in the “real Bhutan”. 
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