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opposite corner of the long courtyard from the je khenpo’s temple and, until recently, the hall set aside for meetings twice a year of the National Assembly, the Tshogdu. Even before being bedazzled by the splendor of the high-ceilinged royal audience hall and its gilded throne, the intruding outsider is rendered breathless from the exertion of getting there.
    As courtiers part the curtains that cover the door to the large but dimly lit chamber, the king is standing just inside, ready with a brief, disarming smile. He leads his guest past brilliant
thangkas
, paintings on brocaded scrolls, and other richly colored hangings garnishing the saffron-colored walls whose remaining spaces are ornamented with religious symbols embossed in gold leaf. Benches and pillows covered with the skins of snow leopards define the corner where His Majesty settles himself for interviews and audiences. The scene is photographed often and pictured just about every week in
Kuensel
: the king with the Indian ambassador, the king with the resident representative of the United NationsDevelopment Program, or, more recently (in the time of ethnic conflict), the king with leaders of Amnesty International, the king with a delegation from the International Committee of the Red Cross. Asked about the pelts of the endangered cats on which we sit, His Majesty disowns them, saying they were put there before his time, before Bhutan pledged to the world community to protect its animals and plants. “I had nothing to do with that,” he answers quickly, with only a faint trace of impatience at being sidetracked by the upholstery. He has more urgent issues to discuss.
    In appearance, the king exemplifies the arresting good looks and natural grace of many of the northern Bhutanese: black hair above a slightly tawny face with the high cheekbones and dark, almond-shaped eyes of the Tibeto-Burman people. Strong and well proportioned like most Bhutanese, the king is resplendent in a gho of handwoven silk in deep blue and gold stripes, the gold patterned lightly in red by adding an extra weft to the weave, a hallmark of the most highly treasured Bhutanese textiles. Over his left shoulder is draped a kabne of saffron-colored raw silk. Every Bhutanese man is required to possess a kabne in a color or design appropriate to his rank, whether exalted or lowly, and to wear it in dzongs and other government buildings. The saffron-gold shade is worn by only two men: the monarch and the je khenpo. His Majesty wears black knee socks and Western dress shoes instead of the traditional knee-high boots made of animal skin or felt, now seen mostly on ceremonial occasions. There is a winter chill in the audience hall, only slightly mitigated by the hot tea and fresh savory pastries. The king has a slight cold, and a bit of untraditional plaid flannel shirt escapes from beneath the collar of his gho as he reaches for a handkerchief now and then during a conversation on a dismal afternoon. He has a solemn, even superserious, demeanor and voices his thoughts in precise language, using his expressive eyes but almost no facial or hand gestures as he speaks—or as he listens with apparent interest to his guests. It is the common experience of those of us who have met him that at the end of your interview he begins his, asking very direct questions about international politics and soliciting opinions on Bhutanese affairs. His head is full of facts about Bhutanese development—he says he spends a lot of his time reading files—and he pleads his case for international understanding tirelessly and with a repertoire of well-rehearsed arguments, as delegationsof foreigners who have heard about the trouble in the south come and go. Saving the last Himalayan Buddhist kingdom has become his full-time job.
    Jigme Singye Wangchuck, born in 1954, is the fourth king of the hereditary dynasty established in 1907. Before his sagacious great-grandfather, Ugyen Wangchuck, adopted the royal title (with the