I’ve just returned from my latest adventure which took me back to Bhutan, that diminutive Buddhist kingdom sandwiched between India and China. I had visited in 2018 to run the Thunder Dragon Marathon, the second part of the Dragon Challenge, the first part being the Great Wall Marathon in China the preceding week. That was how I celebrated my 70th birthday.

Now I was back with some dear friends, this time to be with them and run the Half Marathon, because I needed a half for Asia. This would be my fifth continent in the quest for another Seven Continents medal. But this also meant that, for the second time in eight years, I was in Bhutan for my birthday.

In the earlier visit, I was finishing a memorable trek (where I was bitten by a leech, but that’s a different story) when I was surprised with a personalized birthday cake at our reward dinner for surviving walking about 12 miles.

This celebration was more elaborate. Our group was lunching at a farmhouse, a private residence that was now part of the hospitality industry. We were comfortably seated around the room’s perimeter with ornate tables in front of us. Toward the end of the meal, I suspected something when they produced a red and blue cloth and asked me to sit on it. Then came a bowl of packaged snacks and a cake, and the tying of the traditional greeting scarf around my neck — the khata, to symbolize purity and respect.

Everything seemed pretty traditional — the lighting of a candle and singing “Happy Birthday.” But when I leaned forward toward the candle, I was warned “No, don’t blow it out. The candle goes to the alter.” I was then led, carrying the candle, into the next room where the home’s alter occupied the far wall.

After placing the candle, I was led back to the room to cut the cake. But the ritual was repeated — the first piece of cake was offered to the alter.

I wondered about the bowl of snacks. Was this an obligatory gift? No, it was entirely up to me. I could take as many as I wanted, or none. No matter what, the host would not be offended.

I took as many as I could comfortably carry (the package of Oreos were a welcome post-run snack) and my fellow travelers helped out.

Afterward, we got to try our hand at Bhutan’s national sport, archery, then back to our hotel.

All in all, it was a chance to be a part of another culture that I will never forget.

Photography by Miguel Correa