Radio/Tape Recorder Licence - 1984

My brother Tenze Choda handed me an old yellowed booklet titled "Radio/Tape Recorder Licence" that he found in an old trunk at home. Knowing my interest in old stuff, he has kept it aside for me. 

The booklet grabbed my attention at once. I heard about the need for a licence to own a radio and listen to it back in the days but this is the first time I am seeing one for myself. It was issued in my late father's name on 27th Feb, 1984. 

It was never renewed. Eight pages kept for renewal were left blank. It's because he passed away in the same year. They said I could barely crawl when my father's body was brought to the village. He was killed in a public service truck accident near Katsho bridge. He was in his 20s.

This document is fascinating in so many way; I am looking at it and wondering how my father would have felt when we brought home a radio and the licence to listen to it. Did he place the radio on the window and let the whole village hear it? I can only imagine how much it would have meant to him and my mother.

On seeing the document, my mother remembered wrapping her radio in a piece of cloth and hiding it in a grain box when she saw a few policemen coming to our village. This seems to suggest that my parents had a radio even before they got the licence.

Almost four decades later I am holding the same document in my hand and feeling nostalgic. Just like my father who is long gone, the relevance of the document, which was once a serious matter, is gone too. It's now a piece of history almost forgotten that reflects the life in those days.

Following are some interesting clauses from the document; 

1. No Radio set or a tape recorder shall be maintained and used in Bhutan except on the basis of a valid licence issued by the civil authority 

2. The licence shall be valid for the calendar year of issue only and is renewable every year on the payment of the prescribed fee.

3. a) b) Radio and tape recorder for domestic use: Nu.15/-

c) For each tape recorder or radio set used in shops, restaurants and similar places of trade or business with a view to attract or entertain customers: Nu.30/-

10. The person in possession of a radio or tape recorder without a valid licence issued by the civil authority is punishable with a fine of Nu.10/-

Nu. 15 was a big amount of money back then yet people paid it to acquire the right to listen to a radio. Looking back at it now, it seems so ridiculous and oppressive. But I am sure one day we will look back and feel the same about driving license. 

This small document from 1984 reminds us of how far we have come and how lucky we are now than ever before. 

Why Bhutanese Students Admire Hitler? -A Letter From Germany

In March 2019, my German friend, Annalena Lohaus wrote the following letter to our education minister, Lyonpo Jai Bir Rai. Since it was written to none other than the man at the helm of the education ministry, I didn't think I needed to write this blog. But it's almost three years, and there is no sign of the letter having made any impact whatsoever, so I am obliged to share this letter and let the people whom Lyonpo forwarded the letter know how significant it is. 

Anna- The Letter Writer

Anna told me how she was taken aback by several Bhutanese friends holding high regard for Hitler and Nazis. Of course, if she was not from Germany, the conversations wouldn't have happened. I helped her understand the mystery by pointing at the class VIII world history textbook. She didn't believe me. I had to get a tattered copy of the textbook that was published before I was even born and gave it over to her. 

Several days later, she wrote back to me expressing how disgusted she was about the content of the book where not only was Hitler celebrated but also Stalin and Mosulini. She couldn't believe that students were given tasks to collect the picture of Hitler and write notes about him. You will feel the significance of portraying Hitler in such a light in the letter below, which comes from a young German lady who carries the great burden of her history to this day;

Dear Minister Jai Bir Rai,

Thank you very much for the opportunity to address you directly. I am writing to you today to speak about an issue I've encountered several times in Bhutan as a German citizen. While Bhutan is a wonderfully welcoming country and the people I've met have been very warm and curious I was confronted multiple times with statements that are deeply troubling to me.

When people have learned that I am from Germany I was told more than ten different times how much Adolf Hitler is admired for his leadership and how he strengthened Germany during the early 1900s.

These statements are deeply problematic and as well as incorrect. The first time I heard this I did not know how to react. I also did not think much of it. However, it happened more frequently and I started to wonder where it was coming from. I would speak to my brother and friends at home who were equally as shocked by these remarks especially as we have our own personal experiences withNeo-Nazis nowadays and the uprising of far-right ideology.

For a German, positive remarks about Hitler are very insulting as our history is a great burden that we carry until today and it should not be treated lightly,

I was born many years after the war had ended, however, I still feel the shame and guilt of what has happened during WWll as we hear about it from our grandparents, in our schools and in books, art and movies.

I remember quite vividly one evening when we were staying with my grandparents and my father was talking to my grandfather about WWll. My grandfather grew up in central Germany as part of a low ranking family. His parents weren't Nazis; the Nazi propaganda didn't have a place in their homes. They were however members of the Nazi party as far as I know - but merely to protect themselves. lt wasn't a free choice at all. My grandmother's father refused to join the party and spent several years in prison for it. This resulted in a lot of hardship for his family. Many people tried to avoid these situations by joining the party as my grandfather's parents did. For children, there were special organisations: Hitler youth ("Hitlerjugend" in German) for the boys and League of German Girls ("Bund Deutscher Mädel")for the girls. My grandfather was not allowed to join the Hitler youth as his parents wanted to protect him from the propaganda as much as they could.

He was born in 1933. During the war, he was only a child. He went to school in his village. Every morning the children would gather in the schoolyard and sing the national anthem together; standing in one line. For a young boy, this generated a feeling of great pride. However, some children were not allowed to join: Jews especially and those, who were not members of Hitler youth or League of German Girls. These children were made to stand at the side in shame as th€ others proudly sang the national anthem.

My grandfather told me that he went home one day and begged his parents to allow him to join. Years later he was still ashamed of how easily the propaganda worked on him. He probably was wondering which role he would have played in the war had he been older and able to work and fight. I am afraid it would not have been a positive one. He had a small room in his house with bookshelves on every wall stuffed with books on WWll. He read everything he could get his hands on. History books, books on mäss psychology, biographies and even Mein Kampf and other books written by Nazis. He wanted to understand thoroughly how the crimes during the Nazi era had become possible and how the propaganda had worked on so many people.

My father was born after the war. During that evening at my grandfather's house, he claimed that every German back then knew about the concentration camps and the holocaust. My grandfather denied it. He wanted to explain how people fell for the propaganda without knowing about the horrors of the genocide. He was at the brink of tears. The shame of having been a part of it all even though he did not commit a crime himself never let go of him.

But whoever receives a regime like the Nazis and a dictator like Hitler as positive is an enabler to their crimes. This is what we learn in Germany as part of our history lessons. We speak in great detail about antisemitism and the ideology of the Nazis that put humans into different categories and allowed the enslavement and murder of millions. We visit concentration camps and listen to talks of survivors so that we remember our history and our duty to make sure that it does not repeat itself.

Even though I was born so many years after WWll I still feel the same historic guilt as my grandfather did. When I visited a friend in Poland and heard that I was going to meet his grandmother I was deeply worried about how she would receive me. Luckily she was a very lovely lady and welcomed me. However, in Finland, I was told by friends that I couldn't go to their grandparents' house because I was German and they would never open the door to me since they suffered greatly from the deeds of the Nazis during WWll.

I hope these stories help you to understand why it troubles me and other Germans so deeply when people in Bhutan or anywhere else say positive things about Hitler. The second world war is not my fault but it is my duty to do my best to prevent the ideology from growing again. Every family in Germany has its own story. Some were perpetrators, many were victims. Some stories I've heard from my friends' grandparents are too horrible to repeat here. Every family has lost loved ones and many innocent lives were lost in an unjustified war that was started by Germany and fuelled by a twisted and inhuman ideology.

I am writing to you because through conversations with my friend Passang Tshering I have come to know that the remarks about Hitler I was confronted with are partly rooted in misinformation during history classes. He was able to get me the Vlll World History Book that is being used (as far as I am told) in schools in Bhutan and it was very surprising to me to see how Hitler and Nazi Germany are being portrayed as victims of the other nations and Hitler as the liberator of the oppressed German people. The holocaust is not even mentioned in that book, which would be illegal in Germany. The denial of the holocaust and public praise of the Nazis is a crime punished with up to 3 years in prison.

The depiction of history in that era is very one-sided and simplified, leaving out major events and painting a wrong picture of Germany's role in both wars. Even WWI was caused to a great extent by Germany and the conditions set by the peace treaty of Versailles were harsh but justified. Germany was by no means a victim and Hitler no liberator. He rose to power by killing and capturing those opposing him and by manipulation of the masses. The book talks of great economic advancement and development of infrastructure in that time but fails to mention how the momentous buildings were constructed: By taking property from non-German people and Jews, by using forced labour and by enslaving Jews as well as whoever was deemed to be of lesser worth than the "Aryan master race".

The book talks very positively not only about Hitler but Stalin and Mussolini as well. Millions of lives were lost in WWll and I strongly believe that these dictators should not be glorified. The tasks for the children to solve in the book are especially disturbing: They are for example asked to collect pictures of Hitler, Stalin and Mussolini and write short texts about them as if they were Popstars.

The book is poorly written and seems to be very biased in order to depict history in a certain way. This results in Bhutanese admiring Hitler and thinking that this is a compliment for Germans when in fact it is an insult and disturbing to anyone aware of the history.

I hope that the lessons and books can be changed in the future. I do understand the fascination with Hitler's charisma, however, a man that ordered the murder of 6 million Jews should never be idolised. The ideology behind the Nazi era is extremely harmful and their role in WWll should be recognised as what it truly is: One of the greatest crimes against humanity and all of their doing needs to be clearly condemned.

Thank you very much for your consideration; I would be glad to talk to you further about this issue if you have any enquiries.

Kind regards,

Analena Lohaus

08.03.2019

Separating Myth and Legends from History

BOOK: The HISTORY of BHUTAN
Author: Dr. Karma Phuntsho 

Bhutan history is not among the favourite subjects among the students. An average Bhutanese would know more about the history of some other countries than they know about our own country. The history told to us in the school were merely fragmented events of perceived importance, lavishly glorified and often giving an impression of fairy tales. The core element of historical narrative is missing, isolating events and historical figures at superficial levels.

It can be justified that history taught in schools, which remains the only historical narrative most of us live with, is only foundational reading and therefore can’t be used as the yardstick to measure the width and depth of historical content on Bhutan, but even beyond school, our frustration will only grow to discover that there aren’t much to explore further.

The History of Bhutan by Dr. Karma Phuntsho therefore is the answer to a national longing for a comprehensive narrative that connects the dots and illuminates the dark corridors of our historical memory. It not only provides a better alternative to the only few historical sources we depended on, which are ironically documented by either Indian or western historians but also gives an unbiased account based on in-depth researches.

The 599 pages of the book contain captivating details and authentic accounts of our historical events, from the prehistoric period to the modern period, through a long thrilling medieval period. Bhutan history suddenly begins to sound real and without the gross exaggerations, it’s already so compelling.

This book is definitely going to disappoint some of us who pride in our fairy tale like history, where we were made to believe in superpowers and flawlessness our historical figures, but knowing them with their human weaknesses and them with the abilities overcome the odds gives us stronger reasons to appreciate their contributions.

I grew up hearing secretive stories of the assassination of Zhabdrung, and I remained confused till recently as to how Zhabdrung, who went into permanent retreat on his own in Punakha Dzong, could be assassinated. This book presents a detailed account of the question of succession after Zhabdrung, and how controversies emerged over the incarnations. In fact, the game of politics played over multiple incarnates gave rise to the beginning of the era of lay rulers. Only this book clarified that the stories of Zhabdrung I heard were of different incarnates and not of the great Zhabdrung himself.

The detailed accounts of different plots, conspiracies, rebellions, and assassination during the internal conflicts over a long period of time make our history one of the most thrilling to read from a general reader’s point.

The accounts on the wars we fought with Tibet and later with British India make us see how we struggled, opposed to the easy victory we were told, to defend the sovereignty of this tiny nation even in those times, and one can’t help but feel proud of how our leaders played their cards well since Treaty of Sinchula, and how over the century they managed to amend the treaty to ensure our sovereignty. It’s the terms and use of certain words in these treaties that saved our independence when over 500 princely state disappeared to make up the republic of India, including Sikkim in 1975.

We like to believe that everything fell in place after the emergence of Jigme Namgyal and very much so after 1907 after King Ugyen Wangchuk was enthroned as the first king of Bhutan, but this book will surprise us with accounts of how much they had to go through to establish their dominance and maintain it. The same struggle to suppress fractions of power continued even during King Jigme Wangchuk’s time. The changing dynamics and political issues both from within and outside during the successive kings, beyond the lists of developmental activities we read in our textbooks, and how they used their tact and steadfast leadership to overcome those, gives us stronger reasons to appreciate and truer meaning to our loyalty to the golden throne.

Without reading this book, no Bhutanese can truly separate Myth and Legends from true historical accounts and therefore understand the depth of our history and appreciate the magnanimity of this last surviving kingdom between the two biggest nations on earth.

If so many resources were there, why couldn’t earlier historians bring them to us? Well that when we must acknowledge Dr. Karma Phuntsho’s unique strengths as a Buddhist scholar with mastery over choedkey, complemented by his experience as an academic researcher at Oxford. These two attributes of his gave him special access to the hidden world of Bhutanese history in Buddhist texts and those that were archived in British libraries in England.

This review was first published on READ RIGGS, and later on BOOKNESE.COM

Rice Cooker Disease?

Before electric rice cooker was introduced in our kitchen cooking rice was an art. Not many could boast about knowing the art. Even pro mothers could land up with bad pots once in a while. I remember how my mother would be on her toes once the rinsed rice was poured into the boiling water. She would keep stirring it and from time to time she would spoon out few grains and feel them between her fingers.

Once she got the right feel, which was when the grain was soften all around except a tiny bit in the centre, she would remove the pot from the oven and drain out the thick rice soup that was half the content of the pot. Then the pot was put back on the oven with low heat. I always wondered how my mother knew how much longer to wait after that because I mostly landed up with either uncooked or burnt rice.

That short story on the art of cooking rice can be a history lesson for young Bhutanese born after 90s. Because after electric rice cooker came cooking rice literally became a child's play. All you have to do is rinse the rice, along with some water pour it in the cooker. Put your index finger to see if the water level is at the first line of your finger above the level of the rice. Close the cooker. Pull the light down to 'cook' and go to sleep till mother comes home to prepare the curry. Of course some can't even do that much.

Besides the art and history of cooking rice there also seems to be solid science involved in it, which is gradually surfacing in the form of a disease. The deadly disease is called diabetes. It's sugary but not at all a sweet disease it mess with. We understand that it is to do with excessive sugar in our blood that our pancreas can't handle. But how did this happen?

Bhutan didn't have this disease before, perhaps there were some cases that we were ignorant about but now it has become so common. Well, the answer could be in the rice cooker. A research in Singapore ( Story published in Strait Times) has shown that a plate of rice is as bad as two cans of sweetened soft drink. Ask yourself how many plates you eat in a day.

We Bhutanese always ate rice, so before you ask me why I blamed rice cooker here let me tell you that before rice cooker we boiled rice till it gave away whatever it contained and drained out the soup. Remember the history lesson. So the rice we were eating didn't contain all the sugar it came with but now we are taking in every bit of sugar it contains because there is no draining out of soup.

We started using rice cookers in 90s and in the last two decades we must have forgotten how to cook rice without rice cooker but we have produced enough diabetic parents to relearn the art of cooking rice the old way.

Courtesy: Strait Times, Singapore 

Birth Place of Khandro Sonam Palden

Across the river at Wang Sinmo, the sight of the ancient house in Danglo is so prominent that one can't help stealing several glances from the highway at it. The house, blacked with age was the home of Khandro Sonam Palden, consort of Phajo Drogom Zhigpo who lived from 1184 to 1251. The fascinating details of the lives of the divine couple has survived centuries undiluted. Their popularity is evident from the Bonko festivals held in most village in western region, which is an enactment of life of Phajo. 

Ancient History of Bhutan can be compared to a blank sheet of paper with few dots separated by huge gaps. After Guru Rimpoche's visit in 8th Century the next dot of history documented is probably the story of Phojo and Khadro. 

To pinpoint the 900 year old birthplace of Khandro Sonam Palden today is intriguing, although the house itself being that old is out of question because over these many years we can assume the house must have been rebuilt and renovated dozens of times.
I stupidly asked if there was any direct descendent of the khandro, since there was noone currently occupying the house. The monk said, 'it has been over 900 years and if we trace back we all would be direct descendent of Phajo and Khandro.'

I must have travelled on that highway for hundreds of time and that many times I have looked at the house and wished to visit it. It was just there across the river and all these years I have pushed it for another day. Now I think I have reached the age where if I wish to do something I go and do it because I have realised the importance of take charge of my life. It's equally important to have friends who share your passion to make every moment worthwhile.

With Nawang Phuntsho I just have to tell him my next plan and he would be there ready to go. Our passion dragged our families and even my cousin's family to the place. And from there I looked at the highway and wondered why I took so long to take this short journey. 

Our Guide Passang Dorji

Our Tour Guide 

Upon reaching the village the road winds away from our destination, so we stopped to ask a little boy standing by the roadside for direction. The boy said he would show us and began running ahead of our cars. We followed him for some time and realized that it was farther than we expected and though full of energy the boy was exhausted. We asked him to get in the car and he did. Once in the car he introduced himself as 7 year old Passang Dorji studying in PP. From the way he talked he sounded like a 50 year old. By and by he became our tour guide and stayed with us for the entire duration. He didn't know the history and significance of the place, which I am sure he will learn now, but he made our tour special. What I envied most about the boy was his independence, which can't be taught in the school. He led a group of adults with so much confidence. He rightfully earned a decent fee for his service.

Museum on the Highway

If you are travelling to Thimphu and have half an hour to spare would you like to time travel three centuries back into Bhutanese history at Wangsisina? It’s not known when the house was exactly built but in 1788 the 19^th Druk Desi lived in that house, which is evident that the house existed even before that. The house remained a huge source of mystery for many years.

Just there!

When I was younger, every time we travelled that road someone in the bus would always tell a story about this huge house below the road. I heard different stories on different occasions ranging from legend to myth to folktales, all surrounding that massive house.

I heard there was a lake underneath the house where a wish-fulfilling mermaid lived. I heard a whole episode of Gasa Lami Singye story set in this house because it was said that Changi Bum Gylem was reborn in this house. It was also said that this house produced more Dashos than any other house. I vaguely remember another story involving the massive cliff on the other side of the river.

There is a lake below the house, if not beneath 

Now that the house is opened to public as a heritage museum anyone can visit and discover the inside of the 18^th century structure. The face of the house we see from the road was a recent addition after the road was built from above the house. Other than that nothing much seemed to have changed over the centuries. The house is facing the river, along which the tradition route runs and the architecture of the front is nothing like we see today. The architecture we see today in our villages must have evolved in the 19^th century.

Look at the architecture of the windows. 

As we walked into the courtyard of the house the first thing that overwhelmed us was the massive compound wall. It’s the tallest wall I have ever seen. The door, the staircase and every piece of woodwork and the walls showed the age of the house, and the deep craters on the railings and stairs told stories of generations of powerful families whose hands touched them.

Back of the house then.

Only half a century ago it was said that the family kept over hundred servants and given the size of the room that stored grains it’s no exaggeration. The massive compound walls and the remains of the numerous what-seemed-like servant houses told that it really did have an army of servants. Why not, the house was seat of three Druk Desis and other prominent figures since 1788.

1788: Druk Tenzin, 19^th Desi 

1792: Tashi Namgyel, 20^th Desi

1805: Sangay Tenzin, 23^rd Desi

But more than the generations of powerful male members the house was known for the female members with the title Wangsisi Chum (Rich Lady of Wangsisna). Six generations of Wangsis Chum are recorded after 1805; They were Chimi Wangmo, Tandin Bidha, Dargom(1911), Phub Sithu(1927), Sangay Dema(1948) and Dechen Wangmo, who is currently living there with her children. Her children are the 12^th generation of the family. Perhaps one of these ladies must be the reincarnation of Changi Bum Gylem that I heard of.

History is in everything

The best part of the museum is that it hasn’t changed anything at all. Everything is left as it is. To cater to visitors they have built a dinning room outside the campus wall that can accommodate over 30 guests at a time.

Mebar Tsho: Really a Burning Lake?

After I heard the history of Terton Sherab Mebar I found the attribution of origin of Mebar Tsho’s name to Terton Pema Lingpa not so convincing. The popular narrative has it that after Pema Lingpa reappeared from the river with the treasures and the butter lamp still burning, the portion of river came to be known as Mebar Tsho, meaning burning lake because of the burning lamp.

Picture Courtesy: TCB

About two centuries before Terton Pema Lingpa performed the supernatural act to prove to the skeptics of his time, Terton Sherab Mebar had to do the same in the very river holding a butter lamp to prove to the suspicious ruler of Bumthang then. Now is it a coincidence that the Terton and Lake both have a ‘Mebar’ in their names?

If the name of the lake originated from Pema Lingpa’s time, then why wasn’t it ‘Marme Tsho’ (Butter Lamp Lake)? Or why not ‘Terma Tsho’ (Hidden Treasure Lake)? Or ‘Pema Tsho’? Why did it have to be Mebar Tsho when the lake hadn’t burned in any sense?

Historian Karma Phuntsho, in his book History of Bhutan, says Terton Sherab Mebar “is perhaps remembered more for his failures than successes.” His failure began in Bumthang, through Pasakha to Nobtshona Patra in Haa (Read about this incidences). Therefore he is not in the good book of history and perhaps that’s how his association with Mebar Tsho was unacknowledged, and worse given it to the more popular figure in history.

Discussing about Mebar Tsho, it’s hard to forget the recent incident where a French tourist and his guide lost their lives. The tourist slipped into the lake accidentally but the guide jumped intentionally to rescue his guest who safety was his priority. Even though the rescue failed and he had to pay with his own life, his bravery and selflessness in performing his duty will be remembered by time.

The highest form of tribute we can pay to brave young man is never let another incident happen. But unfortunately, going by the record nine lives were lost in the lake in recent times and still no safety measures were put in place to prevent further accidents. Some people are even talking about closing down Mebar Tsho to tourist, as if putting in safety measure is so difficult.

After the incident when concerned authorities were playing blame game and counting excuses I was wondering how a presence of a throw-rope and ring buoy could have saved the lives of both the tourist and the guide. It will only cost less than Nu.4000. While authorities are still designing elaborate safety infrastructure that would take ages I would like to urge them to keep those two simple lifeguard equipment handy at the lake, for that matter even at the swimming pools and other water bodies where human activities happen. 

The Divine Bastards

"Bastard" is not a nice word to use no matter how politely you put it. People try to polish it as 'fatherless', but how can a child be born without father? Dzongkha equivalent word for bastard is Drang, which is equally devastating, therefore in some regions it's coded as 'child of rooster'.

A person born out of wedlock is referred to as a bastard and even if you are one you don't want to be addressed so. You would rather say your father was killed by a snake than to admit that he was alive somewhere with no regard for you and your mother. But how would you react if you were a bastard of a supernatural father?

I counted three prominent figures from our past who were proud to be called bastards because they weren't fathered by ordinary beings. They were believed to be bastards of powerful local deities of three different regions. 

Paro Penlop Agay Haap was believed to be the drang of Ap Chundu, the powerful local deity of Haa, Tapön Migthol, the chief bodyguard of famous Chakpa Sangay was believed to be the drang of a local deity of Tangsibji, Trongsa and Kawang Mangkhel was considered the drang of Dechenphug Gayney. They lived with the reputation of being invincible.

Dr. Karma Phuntsho, in his book History of Bhutan, says, "Such stories of beautiful maidens being impregnated by local gods and spirits were well known in medieval Bhutan and often used for explaining the unusual physical strength and agility of some men. These children with non-human fathers are often referred to as bastards or drang of particular deity or spirit and their formidable strength attributed to their non-human paternal origin. "

All the three divine bastards coincidentally lived during Jigme Namgyal's time. Imagine the bravery of Jigme Namgyal to have the heart to live and fight among people of such deadly reputation. Except for Penlop Agay Haap the two others were Jigme Namgyal's biggest hurdles in the western regions, though in different times. 

Our country saw re-ignition of civil war in 1850 during the reign of 38th Desi Wangchuk Gyalpo. Following a biased verdict that went against Agay Haap and his allies, they stabbed the desi to death and installed Zhabdrung incarnate Jigme Norbu as the 39th desi. On the other side of Dochula Chakpa Sangay appointed himself as Desi and took control of Punakha and Wangdue, thereby dividing the country into two.

Jigme Namgyal was not even Trongsa Penlop then when he was invited by Agay Haap’s Party to fight along side his cousin Desi Jigme Norbu. After the military campaign Jigme Namgyal and his two brothers stayed back in Punakha and it was then that he ambushed Chakpa Sangay’s righthand Migthol. The invincible chief of Punakha troop, who was reputed to have super human strength, died in the hands of Jigme Namgyal against whom he held grudge from their earlier meeting during the reconstruction of Punakha Dzong. 

Agay Haap was Paro Penlop for the longest time and lived up to his invincible reputation and perhaps died a natural death. Among many legends, he was known for setting Zhabdrung incarnate Jigme Norbu free from Punakha Dzong when Chakpa Sangay and allies took control of the dzong. Finally it was him who put an end to Chakpa Sangay chapter by faking reconciliation and presenting him with a silken robe infected with smallpox, which killed him.

And the last divine bastard, Kawang Mangkhel appeared in the later part of Jigme Namgyal’s life when he became the 51^st Desi. He was aspiring to become Paro Penlop and his brother Kusho Lama Tshewang was then the Thimphu Dzongpon. The two brothers were standing between Desi Jigme Namgyal and his absolute power over the country. In order to expand his dominance over the western region Jigme Namgyal plotted to remove the two brothers and the first target was Kawang Mangkhel, who was the invincible one. Jigme Namgyal forged alliance with Kawang Mangkhel and helped him overthrow Paro Penlop Kipsep only to let him die in the hands of his own spiritual brother Toeb Chushing and the ousted penlop on the very day of his appointment as new Paro Penlop. He was stabbed and thrown out of the window of Paro Dzong. 

Jigme Namgyal, an ordinary son of human parents removing among many the two most feared people who were considered the crossbreed of human and deities from his path, established himself as the most invincible man in the country.   

Disclaimer: This article is focused on the three interesting characters and a few diluted summary of their history. To derive real satisfaction of reading history I recommend Dr. Karma Phuntsho’s History of Bhutan and Tshering Tashi’s Myth and Memory.

Name-Changing Syndrome

How does changing a name help anything? Of course there is a traditional rural belief that when a child is sick for a long time changing the child's name helps. Often the child ends up with better health and a very funny name. But what about an institution's name?

My daughter and I

Today, I was sitting with my family by the river Pachhu, look at my former college from across the river. It's a nice place be over the weekend, watching the majestic Dzong, the Ta Dzong, a beautiful bridge, a river and a beautiful college campus, not to mention the endless paddies on the other side.

I seriously don't know what my former college was called when I was studying there; it could have been Paro College of Education (PCE) or National Institute of Education (NIE) but when I went home I had to tell my folks that I was studying in Teacher Training College (TTC) because that's the only name they understood.

TTC was the founding name and it's imprinted on the minds of everybody from that era, even the bridge that connected to airport road was named as TTC bridge. But over the time the college was renamed as NIE and everyone confused it with NIE in Samtse, because the founding name of Samtse College of Education was NIE.

The new name was slowly getting into the tongues of local people and perhaps people in the system themselves but suddenly one day the name was changed yet again. This time it was called Paro College of Education. It has been at least ten years now but the new name is popular only inside the campus and on the paper. Imagine an institution changing its name three times in its short history, what's so wrong with us? How credible are we?

In less than 20 years we have three different types of graduates from that same collage, one holding TTC certificate, another holding NIE certificate, and yet another holding PCE certificate. Technically speaking the former two groups of people are robbed of their history. Their college doesn't exist. It's understandable within the country but I wonder how it works in universities outside when they go for further studies.

That's the name-changing syndrome my college suffered and the syndrome is widespread in our country, it begins from ministries down to small branch offices, schools to colleges, villages to geogs, and even the words in the dictionary. What was your school called yesterday?