On the two-day journey from a town near Trashigang to Thimpu, which she had seen only on television, Karma felt numb with fear. She barely noticed Bhutan's pastoral beauty as the road wound through mist-clad passes, descending into idyllic valleys peppered by patchworks of rice paddy fields.
Her eyes fill up with tears at the sight of hundreds of fluttering prayer flags - it reminds her of a ritual for which her mother had saved every ngultrum (Bhutanese currency) she earned. "We trekked the whol




