The road from Bhutan to The Bukharian Times is a bumpy, circuitous one, winding through landscapes as diverse as the cultures they connect.
Ten years ago, I left my PR career and life in New York City to write a guidebook to Bhutan. The book, ultimately, never came out, for reasons that could fill a volume of their own. However, I was left with the most precious gift: Bhutanese friends, deep knowledge of a special place that few visit, and a heightened sense of spirituality.
It was during my first trip to Bhutan that I learned about the auspiciousness of the number 108. At Dochula Pass, a famous rest-stop between Thimphu and Punakha with sweeping views of the snow-capped Himalayan mountains, 108 white stupas stand in solemn tribute to the soldiers who lost their lives during the incursion into southern Bhutan in the early 2000s.
I also learned that a full strand of Buddhist mala beads contains exactly 108 beads, each one a step on the path to enlightenment.
The number 108 resonates deeply across Eastern traditions: in Buddhism and Hinduism, there are 108 earthly temptations to overcome for Nirvana; in Indian cosmology, it forms the basis of all creation.
What struck me most was discovering its significance in Judaism – being a multiple of 18, the gematria of chai, or life (18 x 6 = 108).
So, when I learned a few years ago that the Bukharian Jewish community had made its home along 108th Street in Queens, it felt like more than coincidence – it felt like Hashem was showing me the way back to my people. (And, in part, it was a reason I accepted the job as English Section Editor!)
The connection between Bhutan and Bukhara might seem tenuous at first glance, and indeed their histories could not be more different. While Bukhara flourished as a crucial stop along the Silk Road, Bhutan – just 1,700 air miles away – remained deliberately isolated, protected by its mountainous terrain and careful policies of seclusion.
Yet in my recent travels, I’ve found unexpected parallels between these distant lands. During my visit to Bhutan last month, my room at Six Senses Punakha, overlooking the lush valley, swayed—the earthquake instantly transported me back to a similar tremor I’d experienced in Bukhara in 2023—a reminder that we all share the same earth, no matter how different our histories.
Bhutan remains the last Buddhist kingdom on earth. Until 1974, this hermit kingdom was closed to foreigners, and even now it opens its doors carefully, seeking to preserve its unique culture while selectively embracing the outside world. (Cultural preservation is one of the four tenets of Gross National Happiness, its governing philosophy.)
In a similar spirit, the Bukharian Jewish community along 108th Street upholds its traditions amidst the multicultural fabric of Queens. Both communities demonstrate the delicate balance of maintaining cultural heritage while embracing the contemporary world.
The Land of the Thunder Dragon’s mountainous terrain made it nearly impenetrable to all but Buddhist influence – there are no churches, mosques, Hindu temples, or synagogues here, despite Portuguese Jesuits having visited in the 1600s.
Despite this isolation, Jewish travelers have discovered surprising spiritual resonances in Bhutan’s Buddhist traditions. In a moving piece for Chabad.org titled «How I Met My Jewish Self in a Temple in Bhutan,» Yaakov Schy describes how his journey here, during a seven-year sojourn in China, unexpectedly led him back to his Jewish faith. His spiritual awakening was inspired by «A Jew in the Lotus,» a book, featuring conversations between the Dalai Lama and prominent rabbis, that explores the profound dialogues possible between Buddhist and Jewish traditions.
Even in the realm of ritual objects, echoes of shared symbolism can be found. Take the etrog, for example, central to Jewish tradition and sourced exclusively from Calabria by Chabad, has its origins in southern China and present-day Bhutan. Here, the citrus fruit is known as «Buddha’s Hand» – another reminder of the hidden connections between these seemingly disparate traditions. (I discovered this when I went down an etrog rabbit hole, which even landed me in Calabria for the night, looking for the rabbis who oversee the etrog trade.)
A Royal Rosh Hashanah
In the fall of 2024, this connection deepened when history was made with the first Rosh Hashanah celebration in Bhutan, organized by Jordana Ibghy on the sidelines of the landmark Bhutan Innovation Forum. King Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuck himself sponsored the event, adding distinctive touches: a Royal Academy singer performing «Hava Nagila,» royal bakers crafting a five-layer cake adorned with a decorative shofar, and special gift baskets for attendees. The Bangkok Chabad provided the challah.
While I wasn’t able to attend, I was transported there via live WhatsApp updates thanks to my friend and colleague Andy Isaacson, who, as it happens, also traveled to Uzbekistan with Rafael Nektalov.
A Kingdom in Transition
My return to Bhutan last month, after an eight-year absence, revealed a country carefully balancing cultural preservation with modernity. On assignment for Smart Luxury and TIME magazine, I witnessed this evolution firsthand while covering the country’s growing luxury travel sector.
I spent the last nights of my trip, which was organized by luxury travel outfitter MyBhutan, at the relatively new Zhiwaling Ascent in Thimphu – a four-star sanctuary nestled in pine forests. It was the perfect refuge for me as I was reeling from altitude-induced anxiety, which spurred my first-ever panic attacks.
A Prince’s Silk Road Dreams
In the hotel’s lobby, I immediately noticed a book: «Beyond the Silk Route: Travels of a Bhutanese Prince.»
Written by Alfroze Bukht, the pages are filled with vivid descriptions and photographs of Samarkand, Tashkent and Bukhara. These images of ancient Silk Road cities seemed to echo Bhutan’s own journey of careful engagement with the outside world while bridging together neighboring landlocked regions.
Another interesting connection? The word for “book” in Dzongkha, Bhutan’s official language, of the Sino-Tibetan family, is “qitob,” which is the same in Uzbek. (I discovered this linguistic overlap on my own – a mystery I’ve yet to crack, but one that hints that Bhutan may not have been as isolated as I had presumed.)
Signs and Symbols
Looking back, I now see how even my earliest travels contained hints of my future connection to Bhutan. In 2007, during my birthright trip to Israel, our guide gave us an unusual assignment: to purchase something we’d never seen before. In an antiques shop, I was drawn to a stone statue that turned out to be rather phallic in nature. When a fellow shopper identified it as pre-Columbian and asked if I would buy it, his interest only increased my resolve. I left with both the statue and a Buddha head – an unconscious pairing that would prove prophetic.
Years later, after traveling through Bhutan’s Punakha Valley, I understood these purchases as a kind of foreshadowing. In Bhutan, phallic symbols are painted on homes and hang from eaves, serving as protectors from evil spirits, reminders not to gossip, and symbols of fertility. What had seemed like an awkward souvenir choice in Jerusalem had unexpectedly connected me to another culture’s sacred symbolism, long before I knew anything about it.
Sometimes the most circuitous journeys lead us exactly where we need to be. As my anecdotes about Bhutan and the Silk Road demonstrate, cultural exchange isn’t just about the movement of goods and people – it’s about discovering the hidden connections that remind us of our shared humanity, whether through sacred numbers, stone statues, shared vocabulary, or the tremors of the earth beneath our feet.
If you’re curious about traveling to Bhutan, feel free to contact me via my website, www.erinlevi.com, where many of my articles on Bhutan live.
Erin Levi