My birthday hit while in the country which prides itself on its Happiness Quotient rather than its Gross Economic Quotient. In general I do not like a fuss made over these anniversaries and figured I was safe from a restaurant full of singing waiters in this agrarian and non-westernized society.
When the day arrived, we had been out hiking with our Bhutanese guide, Kelsang, and came back to our rather basic accommodation for the night. We really just wanted to take a shower and grab a small supper before retiring.
However, I forgot that Kelsang had our passports and if he had bothered to check, he would know that my birthday was that day. Once in the dining room, I noticed there were some extra flowers at the table and a wrapped gift at my place. Oh well, I thought, my traveling companions are acknowledging the day and there wouldn't be anything further goings on. I entirely underestimated Kelsang and the hotel staff however.
At the conclusion of the delicious supper, the lights were dimmed and the staff trooped in with a pretty birthday cake. The first name listed in an American passport is the surname not the given name!
Hence my cake was emblazoned with the words: "Happy Birth Day Gray!"