By Gus Browning, printed in 73 Magazines in 1965-10 reprint by PA0ABM Gus Browning story, Part 06 Auspice Day. Well, boys, I was at the Radio Prague studio a few minutes before 9 am and was taken in the big fancy studio and seated in front of the mike and told that when the green light came on, I had one minute to get ready to go on the air that when the red light came on, I was "on the air", to start talking. I am one of those crazy fellows who just don't plan what I am going to say before I start saying it. Here I was and as usual had made no plans at all on what I was going to talk about. But I did make up my mind that if there were any propaganda said into that mike , . , I would be the one to say it . . , and it would be propaganda for me, and not them. So on came the red light ... I was on the air. I started something like this, "My name is Gus Browning, and I am from one of the poorest but nicest places in the US, the little state of South Carolina. If you look at a map, you will see that it is one of the smallest states in the US. I am not one of these rich Americans you hear about, I am only just an average American, with 4 children and a nice wife. I have my own business, which is radio sales and service, just a small business which I run myself. As far as the US is concerned, I am sure that they have no idea where I am in fact, they don't even care where I am. I suppose they feel it's none of their business where I want to go. I decided two years ago I would like to make a trip around the worlds so I saved my money and am now on that trip. The radio amateurs here in Prague are treating me very nicely. I think radio amateurs the world over always treat people nice because I think radio amateurs are the finest people in the world-" Then I rambled on till my 15 minutes were over, I felt that in my little way I had done a little propaganda for the US, and right over Prague radio. Such remarks as saving enough money to make a trip around the world in 2 years and that I am only an average American and that what I do is my own business were read-between-the-lines propaganda. I figured that listeners would be able to see from that how things were in the US. One day I was walking down the streets of Prague and out of a clear sky a big Rolls Royce (it looked like one to me) pulled up to the curb and blew its horn. I nearly jumped out of my skin, because I thought maybe he was trying to run me down, A big tall chap stuck his head out the window and said, "Is that Gus Browning, from Orangeburg, South Carolina?" I looked closer at this fellow and said, ''Hello, John!" Then I asked him what in the world he was doing here, and his remark was, "The same as you: I wanted to see what's behind the curtain." I hopped into his big fancy car and we got to see lots of Prague together the next couple of days, John had shipped his car to Munich and had driven it to Prague along with his wife and son, John (GW3ZV) had visited me in my home a few years previously, that's why I knew him when he poked his head out of the car. Boy, it's a small world when you meet someone from South Wales in the middle of Prague. One night I had a telephone call from Harry, over in Bratislava, in the east part of Czech land. He asked me to come over and visit him. I kind of beat around the bush (my money was not too plentiful). He said, "Gus, I will fly over and pick you up and well both fly back here together," The next day Harry arrived, bought me an airline ticket and we flew back to Bratislava together. Harry is a doctor and he was a very fine host to me, taking me all around that area, and we met many of the OK3 boys. Harry's call sign is OK3EA and there is no finer and more friendly fellow in all of Czechoslovakia, Harry bought me my return ticket to Prague, I spent a few days again with Mirek OK1FF and with a very kind feeling towards the Czech boys, I departed from Prague for Munich by train. The trip was as usual very crowded train, people standing all over the aisles, good many police here and there . . . then we arrived at the West German border . . and customs again. These boys meant business they were making everyone dump their clothes out of the suitcases and they were searching every pocket in every garment. Then I remembered a badge with a red star on it one of the OK fellows had given me, and had suggested that I wear when leaving the country. I immediately put it on the lapel of my coat. When the customs man got to me, I reached into my inside coat pocket and noticed the customs man glancing at the red star badge on my lapel. I handed him my passport, and pointed to my luggage overhead. He said, "0h, that's all OK' and without any further remarks to me, proceeded to the next seat, still making everyone dump their suitcases like before. You know, I am still wondering if the red star badge I had on my lapel had anything to do with my suitcase not being dumped and searched- Maybe it was a coincidence he did not give me the big search like everyone else received. Or maybe I had an innocent look on my face, or it may have been my "Auspice Day". Now, that " Auspice Day" stuff reminds me that in this area of the world (I'm in AC5 land right now( Bhutan,red)) nothing of real importance will be done unless it's your "Auspice Day". One of the Temple (Dzong) priests who understands about the stars, planets, moon, sun, etc. tells them if the day is "auspice" or not , . don't fool yourself, these people believe him, too, all the way from the lower caste to the very top. Then it seems that they have another sort of "Un-auspice Day" , , . or something like that, which causes them lots of trouble. We have all heard people say, "This is one of my bad days," or maybe, "This is my day to shine," Well, there you go . . , "auspice or un-auspice." Life here in Bhutan is very interesting. Occasionally I see a Bhutanese or group of Tibetans driving a herd of yaks up one of the mountain passes. Then I see quite a nunber of Lamas coming or going from the nearest Dzong. At night, I hear those big long Tibetan horns blowing, and some of those horns are about twelve feet long and it takes three or four men to hold it up when it's being blown. These are the most peaceful people I have ever seen. I had just found out about Bhutan's biggest religious celebration that's held each year over in Paro at the Paro Dzong. I was asked if I would like to go over there and witness this big celebration. I, of course, said yes, (I was thinking about that being the AC6 portion of the country too!) So on Monday we packed up the Jeep. Now, over here when you go from one place to another, you just don't hop you have to take under consideration. You take ALL your food, your bedding (mattresses and all), you take your own cook and bearer (this bearer is a sort of all-round servant), and of course you take your radio gear, power plant, antenna. I also invited my good friend Mani Kumar (the radio technician at Dechen-Cholling) who is my constant companion and a real nice fellow. You try to picture us, four people and all their bedding, food, and radio junk all to be carried in one small Jeep, When all that stuff was out on the ground, it was a very big stack and to me looked absolutely impossible that all of this, plus four people, could go on a Jeep, Well, after a lot of juggling, repacking, and cramming, we got it all inside the Jeep and away we went. The acting Signal Officer at Dechen-Cholling had sent a radiogram to the Signal Officer at Paro to take care of us, and let me tell you, we really were taken care of in the very best of style. When we arrived that afternoon I saw three brand new nice antenna poles all cut and trimmed, laying outside especially for my use. They were cut a number of miles from Paro and carried by bearers to the station, I found out that a room In the radio station had been completely rebuilt especially for me even a bed was made for me (they don't use beds here since over 99% of the people sleep on the floor). A new kitchen was built for my cook to use, and even some special food was on hand for ray use. Everyone pitched in and helped me erect my Hy-Gain 14 AVQ vertical, which was installed on the very top of a good straight sixty foot pole. Even digging a hole here in Bhutan is a very tough job rocks are everywhere. After two trial holes, we were successful in getting a hole three feet deep where the largest rock was no larger than my head. Remember that these fellows were digging only with their large knives and their hands to remove the dirt and rocks. Finally the antenna was up, and I took out my compass to see what was be- tween me and the US. I saw that due north, about three miles away, there was a big mountain, covered with snow, about 6,000 feet above our altitude (we were about 8,000 feet). To the south there was the Paro valley with the Paro river in its middle and rice paddies on each side. To the west was a mountain, and to the east was a mountain . ... its mountains all around you, regardless of where you are in Bhutan, and they are always higher than you are! I operated during the night, the band folded up about 0300, I ate breakfast, and into the Jeep and go. There are many things away to the Dzong I went to see the celebration, which lasted five days. Inside the walls of the Dzong, people were sitting all around an open spot. There was not one other Westerner there but me. I had secured permission from the Head Lama that I could take all the pictures I wanted to. They had me a chair on hand to use, situated right in the middle of the crowd, at a nice spot to see all the events as they took place* There were about 10,000 people in the crowd the first day. All of a sudden, I heard the most unusual horn blowing, and up on the roof were two Lamas blowing two big long Tibetan horns . . about fifteen feet long. These fellows all during the events acted as "Introducers" to each event as it started. There were lots of dogs present, and to control them and also people who got too close, there were a few -. . , let's call them "crowd controllers" . , , who were really on the job all during the five days. These fellows were really free with their whips, regardless of whether it was a dog or a person. Their whips would strike out and whoever was in its path knew to move back. I must say these fellows kept everything under control too! I was glad I was not on the front row! All during the events, there were about four red-masked clowns on hand to liven up things, and I would like to tell you everything they did, but if I were really to describe everything, Wayne Green would be arrested and sued for publishing such things. At times one or two of these clowns dressed like women . . and such carrying on you have never seen . . , at least not in a mixed crowd! First there was the procession of the Lamas in all their red garments, the High Lamas in their gold garments, and all the high ranking civilians in their very fanciest dress. This marching around lasted about thirty minutes. Then those loooong Tibetan horns blew, they all marched back inside a side room, and then one by one out came the Lamas dressed like animals, with masks on, in vari-colored garments. These were very colorful, and the masks had a sort of terrifying effect on me. The crowd controllers were very busy with those mean looking whips, whacking dogs and people. During the week those masks got more frightening looking all the time and the tempo of things gradually picked up all the time. To me, it was very hard to believe that what I was witnessing was taking place in the twentieth century. On the first day, I was invited by the Head Lama . . , a very fine old man , , . to come up on the third floor of the Dzong and have tea with him and a few other of the very highest Dzong officials. At about 11 am the first day 1 went up there and was served that good old (and I mean old) yak butter tea! Now, if you want something to stick with you, it's yak butter tea. The flavor has a lingering stay with you for a long time after it's all gone. They insisted I stay up there with them every day, which, incidentally, is considered a Great Honor. I ended up having every one of my lunches up there and tea at both the morning and afternoon tea sessions too , . , and I finally got where I could handle yak butter tea. Luckily for me I am from South Carolina, one of the rice eating sections of the US, because rice is their basic food here. But, oh brother, how they like to cook everything loaded with red hot peppers, just about ten times as hot as I am used to. I could handle yak butter tea ok, but I never did get to the point where I could really eat those red hot dishes loaded with pepper. I would nibble on a little of this and a little of that, but I was careful not to ever get a real mouthful of anything. The next to the last day, they brought out llie big Buddha , . . it took about twenty Lamas to carry it. This was carried all around the arena, turned round and round for all to see, and again all the Head Lamas and head civilians were in the procession. After the big Buddha was placed under its awning, all the Lamas and important civilians prostrated themselves in front of it three or four times. I only wish I understood Buddhism, because all this has lots of meaning each event has an explanation as to what it's supposed to be representing. The last day was the most exciting things were at a high tempo near the end of the day. All of a sudden, everyone started whistling and sort of shouting and out from the Dzong ran about ten of the most frightening "demons" you have ever seen. These fellows had a half moon shaped instrument in their hands, made of iron about half an inch thick, with a very small rubber tip on its end. They beat tlie drums with this ... I mean, they usually beat the drums with this, but not this time. These demons ran all through the crowd, jumping over people's heads. Everyone was shouting and whistling, and so were these demons. In one hand, they carried one of those very odd looking painted drums. They would hit the drum a few times and then they would hit the people on their heads with this instrument, and I don't mean "love taps" either. For a while they did not bother me, until one of the clowns pointed me out and then I got those taps on my bald head. A few of those taps caused me to rub my head. This kept up for about fifteen minutes. The natives who had babies with them held the little fellow's heads up high so that they would be tapped also of course, these were gentle taps. I am sure everyone got at least ten whacks, then all the demons gathered out in the middle of the arena again and danced around for a while. Then the crowd started whistling and carrying on and , . . back to the crowd they all ran, all heads were whacked again any number of times, things died down, and back to the arena the demons went again. More dancing, the crowd started that whistling and yelling again, and back to the crowd the demons came and more head tapping took place. They did this three different times. I saw quite a number of peopie rubbing their heads but they must have loved those whacks because they kept asking for more and more, I got my share too! I asked one of the Dzong Lamas who could speak a little English just what this meant. He explained to me that the head tapping was supposed to run all the demons out of your system. There must have been lots of demons in the people, because it took about an hour of head beating to get rid of the demons in everyone There were all those dogs running around and very often there was a big dog fight. All the people bring their food with them, and since there is never any sort of an intermission during the entire day, they just eat when they want to. Now, when there are lots of people eating right on the ground and there are lots of loose dogs running around, some funny things happen. A dog will run up to someone's dinner and grab a mouthful of food and away the dog scrams with rocks being thrown at him and a lot of yelling. This was certainly some get-together. Just think, for five solid days from 8 am until 5 pm, one thing following another, no intermission at all, not one moment lost and never any repeats. Everything was taken in sort of a holiday mood and no one ever got mad! All considered, this was one of the most enjoyable weeks I have ever spent iii any country . , . the nice part of it all, was none of this in any way QRMed my ham activity, since it started at 0230 GMT and ended at 1130 GMT. You know, I gotta stop getting away from my story, but I think all these side fights are interesting, so I guess it's no harm to wander from the main theme once in a while. That's it felloows ... I will get back on the ball in the next issue of 73 . .. this I promise you Gus