No School on Saturday

One regret I have from my childhood is not having spent enough time with my parents. I thought I would get all the time in the world to be with them once I finish my school. I didn't see this coming. After school came college and then came job, in between I lost my stepfather. Now I only get to meet my mother for less than a month each year. Soon life will be over. 

The cycle continues with my daughter. She is in school six days a week and returns home exhausted. We wait for her till afternoon on Saturdays to go anywhere. Sundays are full of activities, mostly going around and before we figure out how to make smart use of the lone family day in a week she will be gone to college. Then we will be gone. 

Typical Saturday in School

Can we not have school on Saturday? So that by Friday evening we feel so relaxed and for the next two days children can do real things in life. Even children in hostel could undertake various vocations or visit home and do real things that really matter in life. Across the world, in all countries known for best education systems children don't go to school on Saturdays. In fact children are not given homework during the weekends. 

Ever since Lyonpo Norbu Wangchuk took office as the new Education Minster I felt a sudden gush of energy in the Education Ministry. People are motivated and therefore things are going to change. Many positive changes that are on dusty paper are finally going to flow into schools. But often in the name of change we push for more. It's the natural way things but did it work so far? We have overloaded schools with news things when they haven't figured out how to do the old thing very well. 

For once could we try lesser in the name of change? Because we have never tried that, so let's take away Saturday from the school week. It will avoid school-fatigue in students, and lesser they get to be in school more they will appreciate their time in school. Moreover, we talk a lot about youth issues perhaps we should give them more family time to sort things out. School is taking lot of family time away from them, and perhaps we should stop thinking that school has all the solutions. We don't, it's proven. 

As for the teachers, they are exhausted people, often frustrated, they deserve good rest over the weekend just like any civil servant, if not more, which actually should have been the case. They need time with their own children as well. What's the use if at the end of the day your own children are deprived of everything you boast to have given to your students. Therefore there can be no greater incentive than Saturday with their own family. 

In Finland, the number one education system in the world, teachers only work for 570 hours in a year, half that of the United States and third of ours. Our teachers work 1440 hours in a year. But where are we in comparison? Therefore less is more. If anything should be more it should be the salary because in Finland (again) teachers are paid almost Nu.5600 per hour. They earn our monthly salary in half a day. So lets forget about the salary, and concentrate on Saturday because it's possible. 

Other civil servants who have their Saturdays off don't really get to relax because they have to prepare their children for school and drop them to school. Then wait till afternoon to go anywhere. So even when so many offices are closed on Saturday we still see traffic jam because the schools are open. 

I had this on my mind for the longest time but now seems the right time to share because of the optimism that has come with the new minister. So I hereby request Education Minister to consider removing things from our system, instead of adding and let Saturday be the first to be removed.

Journey to Southern Bhutan

I have discovered that I am a very bad traveller, worse when I have to drive myself. I feel very exhausted at the very thought of driving, I almost fall sick the day before travelling. My wife adds to this by packing stuffs two days ahead of the journey and reminding me about it by reconfirming about everything that's there in our luggage- I land up unpacking and repacking everything just to reassure her. She makes me wash our car, refuel the tank, check the engine, brake, tyres,... 

But there something about this journey that made me feel very excited. I washed my car without her orders, and did everything that she would ask me to do even before she could think of them. I even asked for something extra to her surprise- to take tea for the road. Because it's my maiden journey to Gelephu through Tsirang, I have always wanted to visit Tsirang and I also have an unfinished quest for Gelephu. My first visit to Gelephu some years ago left a very bad impression, I was sick throughout the ten days I spent there and this time I want to even the account and forgive Gelephu with a beautiful experience.

I learned that I had to keep a comfortable six hours in hand to make to Gelephu before 5PM curfew on Sarpang Gelephu highway. I made some calculation and left myself enough time to stop for tea and photography. 

We made a cozy bed on the back seat for daughter so that she can sleep comfortable when she get tired without bother us. She does that always. Kezang had travelled that road before, but it was too before that she hardly remembers anything. So that made the journey double exciting. I felt sorry for my daughter who could enjoy the new road. She slept.

The road from Wangdue to Wakleytar Bridge is almost like travelling through India, with lots of Indian presence. The Punatshangchu construction madness is very heavy but there are occasional smoothness on the road that is even better than the best road in Thimphu. The project has changed the entire geography of the place, and at two points on the way we could see the giant river disappear into the hills. The river bed was full of activity.

The Lost River

The bridges on the Wangdue-Tsirang highway are something to marvel, they are very soothing to eyes and their strength is evident from the freshness the concrete work has maintained. After all it's built by Japanese!

View Point: Dagana Road on the other side

Tsirang road diverts from Dagana road somewhere near Sunkosh, well Punatshangchu changes its name from here on. The brave river is here on called Sunkosh. The road to Tsirang is all uphill through the paddies and orange trees. I woke up my daughter to show her where the oranges grow. Somewhere on the top we meet a chorten from where we get the panoramic view of the Dagana road, Sunkosh and endless hills.

The View Point

We stopped in Damphu Bazar. I had to literally put my foot on the ground to reassure that I have covered one more Dzongkhag. Kezang bought a bottle of native honey. Infact everything is very native in Tsirang. The cozy cottages along the road, the goats in the paddies, the smell of gungudru everything tells stories of the originality of the place. The influence from outside dzongkhag has not changed anything in Tsirang.

Damphu Bazar

The descending road to Sarpang after Tsirang is already lonely and the fog makes is even more melancholic. It feels so much like Gedu. It's only when we close on to Sarpang that we see the sun again, my northern root has always given me special curiosity for everything in the south. I love the plains and the broad leaf trees.

Gate to Sarpang 

Sarpang town disappointed my expectations of it, it's very small, dusty and unevolved. It's too small for all the problems it faced. We stopped for a very satisfying southern Bhutanese lunch in Sharpa Restaurant- how could I resist mutton curry with raw onion on a big plate. Out of curiosity I asked about the kidnap story and the victim happens to be the son of the hotel owner. She showed the place where it happened and how they disappeared. None of the adults were home that fateful day. The boy is now home and doing well after initial shock.

Sharpa Restaurant in Sarpang Town 

Saprang town ends at security gate which is surrounded by tree laden with Honey combs. Every tree around that place has at least 50 huge combs hanging with juicy honey, and I was told that no one harvests them. Such a waste of nature's resource.

Honey Tree in Sarpang

The road between Sarpang and Gelephu gives you the rare opportunity to try the 5th gear on my old car. The much feared road, where stories of kidnaps are often heard, turned out to be a wonderful experience. Within half an hour we were in Gelephu, and just like any Bhutanese the first thing we did was to cross the Bhutan Gate to feel the air in Assam. Kezang went out for shopping and while I waited I saw some scribbling on the pillars: WE WANT SEPARATE BODOLAND. But it wasn't quite readable which must be the reason why their voice is still not heard. I wasn't feeling very secure there, as soon as Kezang came back I drove back to my safe country.

Assam, the denied Bodoland

The Cold Holy Bath

We went on a dry picnic yesterday to Punakha. But of all the days yesterday wasn't a day to joke with the idea of remaining dry in all senses. We took a potable swimming pool for kids to enjoy their holy bath but seriously I didn't expect the pool to take three fathers and 70 buckets of water from Puna Mo Chhu to fill it up.

Our plan was to leave the pool in the sun to warm up before letting the kids in but they won't understand the kindness behind our unkindness. They got into it even before we could fill it up.They had no idea that the river just came from the glaciers and it's ice cold even when it flows down warm valley of Punakha.

The cold water however couldn't stop them. They played in it until they turned pale and their jaws froze. But they still hated the idea of getting out of it. So we have to force dump the water out of the pool before kids suffered hyperthermia in the name of holy bath. The conclusion was two angry kids. They had the thruelbub of their life time.

Three Fathers, 70 Buckets filled this pool

Ninzi and Bobo

Bobo turned pale with cold

And of course we parents had ours best watching them with temptations to jump in with them. At this age it lot more fun to jump in glass than in swimming pool. We parents had our share of stolen moments of romance.

The Thruelbub Moment of Romance ;)

NOTE: If you are in Thimphu Tomorrow Evening (Monday, 23rd Sept.2013) Please care to turn up for Blogger Meet. Place and time will be confirmed on Blogyul Facebook Page.

Jigme Couldn't Find Taxi From Thimphu

My son Jigme was rushing home from Paro this afternoon. He wanted to spend this election holiday with us at home. But he is stranded in Thimphu tonight because he couldn't find a taxi coming to Wangdue. The taxi he got into asked him Nu.450, almost 100% more than normal rate, and when he questioned the driver, he was told that all taxi charge same rate today. His repeated protest made the taxi driver change his mind and direction. The taxi politely threw out my boy and went to Paro.
I made the following request on Facebook (see picture) and only respond I got was to note the number of the taxi and file a formal complaint against it in RSTA office. 

It was not about my son alone, it was about the illegal fare hike going on and I thought RSTA will go there and catch them red handed, but it turned out that we have to follow procedures, which indirectly meant there is no heart in dealing with the problem. Like a friend on Facebook commented,

 "That is the problem we have la; even, if we file a formal complaint with veh. registration No., they will ask for evidence and will go on..."

This was a problem since my school days and I am shocked even during my children's time the same problem bothers our country. I am sure many desperate travellers during this election must have been harassed by these taxi drivers, which will make the very voting experience bitter. Now I know why Monggar election officer chose to hire private cars rather than taxis. 

Sunday Syndrome

This morning our class of 35 teachers were strangely silent in the morning hours. When the chief lady, Ms. Phuntsho passed by our room, she wasn't happy with us. She interrupted our session to let us know that we were not in a prayer to be so solemn. She went on for some time trying to ignite our spirit, and concluded by stating she found 'teachers in Wangdue are not as interactive as those in other Dzongkhags she worked with.'
I had to jump in and inform her that, "actually we had very interactive sessions yesterday with some topic taking us to hot debates. It's just that you happened to come by when we are in 'Sunday Syndrome' mode." I didn't know if there was something called 'Sunday Syndrome' but she knew what I was catching at so she laughed, gave me a sweet sour looks and explained with apology.

Picture from Mirror News

Our body and mind are both so accustomed to taking rest once in every seven days ever since we knew Sunday, and when sunday is taken out of our week our minds go into standby mode. I always thought Sunday was just a state of mind but today I realized it's an unavoidable day in a week. It takes hours before our mind finally give up on Sunday Syndrome and agree to function normally. Sunday was supposed to be the only day I don't disappear after breakfast and my daughter enjoys it, and Kezang keeps so many things waiting in line for us to do together on Sunday but today I disappeared after breakfast and couldn't be helpful to Kezang- both are disappointed. Ironically it happened for a GNH workshop. It even took our Saturday. But I must admit it was worth, perhaps the only weekend in the year where so much is learnt.

P:S: Just found out that there is a phrase 'Sunday Syndrome' already in use, though meaning little differently than the context I have put in.

The Truth Behind 'Annual Bath' Jokes

Thruelbub is the day when all our water sources are believed to be blessed and because the blessing falls in the form of divine rain, thruelbub is translated into 'blessed rainy day'. Sometimes it's a sunny blessed rainy day. I see more sense in maintaining the word 'Thruelbub' even in English rather than trying to translate everything into foreign language as if we are predicting the extinction of own language.
Well, on 'thruelbub' every Bhutanese takes a cleansing bath with load of optimism that their body and soul will be purified and that all their sins will be washed away by the water that is blessed. There are religious texts that say how we sin everyday, knowingly and unknowingly and the implication of these sins in the afterlife, yet there is thruelbub that claims to purify us of all our sins, which could mean we could walk clean after the bath no matter how much we have sinned. It's toppling my beliefs, but I am sure if we use a good soap our bodies will stop stinking. For soul, it will take more than a bath in holy water.
There comes the popular joke that thruelbub is an annual bath for Bhutanese, and among good friends we send our greeting like, 'Finally the day has come for you to bathe, please don't miss it'. And some foreigners also assume that we only bathe on this day. It's not true anymore. We shower at least once in two to three days if not daily and even in villages bathing has become a weekly ritual. Therefore the 'annual bath' is an annual joke.

Photo by   John Wehrheim

But once upon a time, when we didn't have toilets, when we didn't have water supply in homes, and when electricity was not there- which is during my childhood in village, 'annual bath' wasn't a joke. I saw people washing their face sometimes, and washing their heads ahead of important occasions but I never saw anybody bathing. Thruelbub is not popular in my village but we have our own annual cleaning day, which is one day ahead of Lomba. On that day our river used to turn black. Every corner of the house gets cleaned, every piece of rag gets washed and every member of the family takes their turn in Menchhu tub. I can still smell the thick layer of cheese-like dirt floating on the wooden tubs. Well this is too much of 'selling my own village talks' but that was what used to happen not long ago. and like thruelbub we also believed that our souls will be purified.
If 'soul purification' value is not attached to the bathing then perhaps our folks would have never bothered to get themselves naked and wash their body fully any time in their lives. Thanks to the day, our folks bathed fully at least once annually.
Happy Thruelbub to all my readers. Optimism is good, but only goodness will purify your soul.

My Business Idea

Bhutan Innovation and Technology Center organized The Business Idea Competition of Bhutan 2012 from April to June 2012 and I walked out of my comfort zone to take part along side some 50 of them. Well it was one totally different and comfortable experience dealing with cooperate people. And on top of the experience my idea of Indoor Menchu Service made it to the top ten Business Idea "for its Excellence".

Thank you Thimphu Tech Park and Bhutan Innovation & Technology Centre for the recognition. I will come with crazier idea next year.

 

His Majesty's Charm in Bangkok

In Bangkok it's honor to be a Bhutanese; people change their tone and expression when they hear that we are from Bhutan. They come closer and talk like they always knew us. They talk about how they love our 'king Jigme'. From security guard to cab driver, from barber to waiter, everybody knows our king and his beauty.

A cab lady who was driving us from MBK to hotel looked tired and angry until she heard us mention about Bhutan. She suddenly beamed with smile and gave us 50% discount without we even asking. The barber I had haircut at called whole her family to talk to us and they showed us the street through which our king passed.

Thank you your majesty, you have not only given us a great country to live in but also the license to travel abroad with honor and pride of being Bhutanese.

This morning Bangkok Post carries the headline: Bhutan King Honoured. Inside in a light orange box they have news of Naresuan University's honorary doctorate degree in Public Health to our King this month.

Snap shot of Bangkok Post

Bangkok Diary

Bangkok excitement held us week before but it nearly died when the flight was delayed for four hours. While the rest of the passengers were making hundreds of calls me and my daughter took the liberty to think of the boarding room as our bedroom.

Good Night at Airport

My daughter screamed all her first-time-flying excitement when we finally boarded the plane, she drew lot of attention. She drew more attention when she denied the seat belt. It took three air hostesses and all their management skills to belt my daughter on to me while taking off. We had economy class tickets, but we're seated in business class, yes the place where everybody does their business- near the lavatory. My daughter kept me and an air hostess busy at all times. After a while her flying excitement died and wanted to go out, and we were over clouds to listen to her demand.

I should have asked for standing ticket for my daughter. She never used her seat.

We landed in Dhaka, where my girl badly wanted to go out, and I took her to toilet every time she asked to go out. we set the record of highest toilet visitor on the flight.

At Suvarnabhumi Airport we had to get our visa on arrival, because we were late in applying at Thimphu which could have saved lot of time here. Nu.500 more in Thimphu for express service seemed too much for me who have lot of time to spare but forgot to consider my daughter's mood. She became very difficult and cried the loudest in Suvarnabhumi airport. Her magic worked here as well, her super high pitch cry earned us the place at the top of the long queue. Very systematic Thai service has room for consideration that won our heart right at the gate to Thailand.

Hippi,at the Hotel Finally! 

17 floor above the ground for the first time. Pullman Hotel.

Enjoying the Height

Out of the Baggage. Economiest Class lol

Thaitanic Pose

I always wanted to travel in a boat and in Bangkok you don't have to wait long. We took a family boat and went as far as and as long as we wanted.

Fishing Family

Angry Bird at all times

One place I can't take my daughter away is from the swimming pool. If we are to divide the time between her swimming time and rest of the activities in Bangkok, it would be even. Even as I am blogging my wife is struggling to get her out of the pool.

Her Chill out time, the only chill out place

Dear Students, The World of Your Own

The world will not end this year I will take the risk if it does, but I can't take the risk if you choose to end your world. You own a world of your own and you are the center of that world. You can destroy that world as easily as you could make it a wonderful place to live in. There are always choices ahead of you, distinctly black and distinctly white, easily separable. There are people like you and me who go strong and make white choices, and there are people like you and me whom the black choices choose because they are not strong enough to love themselves.
Every time you go on vacation I get a bad feeling that you might land up on the dark side of life, from where you might drown further away from life everytime you want to return, therefore I write this to you to tell you three simple things as you leave for summer vacation of 2012.

1. Bad opportunities, like weeds in our garden, are generously available in the human garden. But don't be generous with them, be kind enough to spare yourself a few moment to think of all the people that mean to you so much, and think about what would happen to them if you go those wrong ways.

2. You will be caught. Bad things never go unpunished. Every time you are tempted to do something wrong just know that you can't run from it. If love can't stop let fear hold you back.

3. Take care of your own little world, the big world will take care of itself.
Have a happy summer vacation. Make people around you happy. And when we reunite let's share our happy stories.


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Shanghai to Paro Taktshang

Three friends from Shanghai were on holiday in Bhutan last week. A man and two ladies were walking their way to Paro Taktshang when we met last Sunday. There were people from across the world that day, but these three came into focus because of what happened to them then. My family and these three friends made it to the place, where the uphill climb ends, almost at the same time, of course we rode horses. We took a long rest there, the spot where Je Gaden Rinchen was born.
The three Chinese seemed to be in hurry, with their guide panting after them. Just then the man slipped and fell, almost falling down the hill. He lay flat on the muletrack crying in pain- his left ankle was twisted. His two lady friends were shocked and screaming. Their guide was loaded with their cameras to do anything. Another ten minutes walk would have taken them to Paro Taktshang.
They immediately attracted lots of attention but they needed help more than mere attention. That's when I ran to them with my sister in-law, who was once a doctor in China and therefore carries whole set of first aid in her handbag. She assessed the injury and massaged it with balm. The huge man was still crying in pain but my sister in-law had pain killer with her. She even gave him a few more tablets for the evening. The man was shivering and his faced looked scary. We wrapped him in our kabney and I used my teacherly skill to calm him, " It's a very lucky sign that you fell right here where a great saint was born- Je Gaden Rinchen. We consider it very lucky." The magic worked on the two ladies. They were nodding and even smiling. My brothers carried the man to a comfortable spot and ask him to rest while we sort out what to do next. It was confirmed that the man cannot walk anymore, and his journey from Shanghai to Paro Taktshang ends here.
I asked the guide to call his office for backup, but I was only talking to the office himself. Like many tour operators his was one man army- he is the guide, the agent, the office and the final backup. He was funnily blaming the man for not walking carefully, instead of worrying. I didn't want our guest to feel helpless, so I told him to wait for my family to return so that we could carry him down.
The two ladies were biting their nails, seemingly not wanting to go back without completing their journey but their guide was even more perplexed. Then I decided to guide the two ladies with my family so that the guide could stay back with the injured. They happily agreed, even the injured.
It was my fourth visit to Taktshang and I can comfortably be a good guide but I had with me seven members of my family who were there for the first time. It took me over an hour to explain everything to the nine of them with special attention to my sister in-law and the two ladies, knowing that they can never make it back for second time. Because I agreed to be their guide I couldn't help see them struggle with their heavy cameras- so I carried them as well. As if nine of them weren't enough a group from Bangkok asked me to explain to them a lot of things.
I then met two senior guides to who I explained about the injured man and the indecisive guide, and requested them for help. By the time we walked out of the monastery I got a call from the guide saying he got assistance from the senior guides and that they were carrying him down. I told him not to worry about his guests who were with me.
In one of the Goenkhangs I was explaining about the prophecies of Guru Rinpochee, and knowing my two guests were Chinese I asked if they were a big fan of Chairman Mao Zedong. They excitedly replied yes. I sorrily told them that "about 1300 years ago Guru Rinpochee prophecised that a man call Mao will come one day and become the greatest threat to Buddhism". Two ladies looked at me in disbelief, "1300 years ago?" "Did all his prophecies come true?" By the time they walked out, they told me I have changed their mind.
I had to carry my daughter and walk slowly with my wife and sister in-law, so I let my brothers deliver the two ladies to the base where the guide and the injured where waiting in the car. By the time we reached the base they were gone. The guide didn't call me after that. But I am happy that the Chinese will remember fondly about Bhutan and Bhutanese despite the unfortunate journey.

My Team-Eight of them including my daughter

A Cup of Tea at Taktshang

I was talking about a cup of tea in the cafe halfway to Paro Taktshang on my Facebook wall and the few comments there inspired me to write it in my blog.
The Cafe is beautifully located, facing the gigantic cliff and the breathtaking Taktshang Monastery. The benches are strategically setup that one could just sit there and lose oneself. Who won't like to sit there and enjoy a cup of tea? If only a cup of tea was just a cup of tea! The cafe belongs to BTCL and they only had tourist in their list of costumers. In their description tourist means someone who earns in dollar, and therefore no Bhutanese can be tourist. A cup of tea cost Nu.84 and there is no concession for Bhutanese who could buy a whole meal with so much.
Bhutanese are expected to bring their own packed lunch and tea, and it is written in bold: "No picnic Lunch allowed here", which also goes out to Bhutanese. So I say, there is a beautiful Bhutanese Cafe half way to Taktshang that is only meant for tourist. And this is one among many beautiful and luxurious facilities in Bhutan catering to just foreign tourists, because there are some people up there who think Bhutanese don't deserve to have fun.

My Family Drinking Golden Tea

But the twist in the story was that I always wanted to visit that cafe, and coincidentally we were hungry and tired so we had to sit on those beautiful benches and drink funny tea- it didn't even taste good, we had to ask for more tea bags. Lesson learnt is that, there is no gold in that tea therefore don't forget your packed lunch and tea if you are head to Taktshang.

Beautiful Sunset in Samtse

Sunset in Samtse: Forgive my friend's Antique Camera

After the exams were over I sat down with my wife and planned our vacation. We subtracted the day I will be occupied in workshops and also the days that will go in making the journey to and fro the stations. Finally when all the obligations were slashed off, what was left on the calendar wasn’t enough to reignite the excitement we had long stored.

To make the mood worse, 18 Bhutanese perished in plane crash for the first time. As the list of the victims appeared on TV my heart ached, it ached worse when I realized they were families on divine vacation; vacation from which no one returned. How chillingly it made me realize that everyday we are together with our family is a vacation in itself, every journey, every meal, every joke, everyday… it was harsh but a bold reminder that every date on the calendar needs to be counted.

And thus our plan for this winter changed altogether. We packed our bags and started our vacation; I am on paid vacation with my family to Samtse. The journey was boring from Wangdue to Thimphu because I have always driven that road. But now when I look back, it gives me cold feet; a bus accident killed nine people. That driver must have taken that road hundred times more than me and yet he faced the worst nightmare, can I afford to take that road for granted? One girl from my school lost her life, a boy suffered broken spine and a teacher colleague suffered two broken ribs.

Breakfast in Dantak canteen near Babesa was cheap and satisfying. All my life I travelled in buses and had lunches where drivers loved or the owners demanded. But this time I stopped where we got yummy, clean and fresh food. I waved hard on Bhutanese restaurants on the road in revenge and headed straight for Taktikhoti. We Bhutanese need to learn the basics of business.

But the road from Tsimasham to my lunch place tested my patience, driving skill and eye sight. Thimphu Phuntsholing highway has always been under construction- rough reminder of a country in the permanent state of development.

I always loved Phuntsholing, here is where I first met my wife some five years ago. Weather is pleasant at this time of the year. Street are filled with people, I mean the Jaigong streets, where every Bhutanese empty their purse. Of course, Phuntsholing is no different from Jaigong, after all most of the businessmen are Indians. Who would want to pay a bigger price when on the other side of the wall you get it so cheap?

I honked the honk of my life, and perhaps my car must have thought I have gone crazy, on the road to Samtse. It was worth it; here I watch the last sunset of 2010 with my family and I must admit the sunset in Samtse is so beautiful!

November Eleven, the Date that is writ in Heart

If you ask a person of my age in Bhutan: What day is the most auspicious in a Bhutanese year? The answer is November Eleven. Early on, we loved that day because it was time for celebration, it was a beginning of a three day holiday, it was the last holiday before the exam, and it was the day we had school picnic. But as we grew up we realized it was more than just that; it was the day our king was born. 

K4

The king who had to leave his playground at 16 to lead our country, the king who put lots of importance on children, the king who put people's happiness before country's wealth, the king who gave the people to rule the country, the king who so happily stepped down the throne...the king who so much manifests god himself.

November Eleven became a phrase among us that described the best holiday of the year. There were people who claimed to be born on the day, some who changed their birthdays, anyway we envied them a lot. I prayed for my baby to be born on eleventh of November, she delayed by 18 days. 

It breaks my heart when we no more march to the beat of the drum on November 11 but yet the feeling never changed: November Eleven is writ in Heart. How great it feels not to be gifted with a new king and Twenty First February to celebrate.

Happy Birthday my king.

I couldn't locate the authentic source of the great photograph I have used here, however I am grateful.

Best City Award- Best Irony

Of all the cities in the world Bangkok wins the Best City Award and I can clearly smell the fish. The panel of judges must have had the best night of their lives away from their families with the girls who could blow whistle from their bottom. Otherwise no fool would pick up on that filthy thief’s city.

Even I heard so heavenly about that city from the Bhutanese who had been there but now I wonder if they haven’t see Jaigon enough. The streets are dusty and cramped with noisy people and outdated vehicles, with no traffic rules applied. Buildings are long in need of repaint. Taxi drivers and tuktuk drivers are the most stubborn people I ever encountered; we have to go to places they want or pay ten times. Every shop expects you to bargain no lesser than in JB, except for some big malls. For last many months red shirt filled up the streets in protest against the government, which led violence and bloodshed. Do we call such city the best city?

Why do I call it a thief’s city? Many Bhutanese who have been there must know that we are the easy prey and many might have been among the unfortunate travelers who fall victim of the fake Bhutan-enthusiast foreigners. They are not original Thai people but sadly they now become part unless they are kicked out. They typically start their conversation by asking you,

“Where are you from sir/ madam?”

And we are proud of saying, “I am from Bhutan.”

That makes him excited because he knows we come there with lot of money and most of all we are kind to strangers.

“Oh, I am going to Bhutan this week, can you help me with some information?” By then he would have cornered you but we agree with any sort of behavior when it comes to foreigners.

“May I have a look at your currency?” Here he means to look at your fat wallet, and any normal Bhutanese would kindly open their purse and show them our currency. During this split second moment he would touch your purse to push down the ngultrum note you took out and acknowledge you and walk away.

Back in the hotel room no matter how you calculate a few of your hundred dollar bills are missing and then you will realize that you are robbed in the broad day light.

How do I know all this? Experience! Luckily I was walking with only Thai Baht. But three of my friends weren’t as lucky. That evening some of the experienced friends told us that it was common but they were late. After reaching back here I heard one group from my village suffered the same fate. But nobody wants to share their embarrassing experience thus leading to further incidences. Simple rule: Bhutanese should keep aside our kindness while walking in Bangkok, the best city!

Home Going

Yangthang in snow, Dec 2009

Hurray… I am going home. There is no greater feeling. One thing I hate about having a job is not getting to stay where you belong. But thank god I am a teacher that I get regular vacations. The studently excitement of mid term break and winter vacation die hard and thankfully the right to them is intact in my case.

Over the years everything changed; I have no friends in the village, kids there don’t know me, old people hardly recognize me, even the village itself is unwelcoming after its rebirth from the ashes of February 2002, and at times I get a feeling that I no more belong there. But someone there remained unchanged ever since I could remember, my mother, for whom my heart is fully inclined. She always awaits my arrival at this time of the year, perhaps for the last eighteen years. Today mobile phone keeps us almost together though but home going is something so special that I can never misplace it in the chaos of time and change.

I love to see my mother beam with joy and pride when I am at home. We have stories to share still. This is our best gift for each other. And I wish my sister could realize it sooner. 

My First Long Drive...

I don't have driving license yet but I had to drive home during the summer vacation. I was not sure if I will be able to drive over such long distance without sleeping, I used to sleep half my journey so far. This time if I sleep, I tell my wife, everybody in the car will have to sleep too. There was my wife, son, my brother and Pem Dechen, a friend.
I drove from Wangdue to Paro via Thimphu without a scratch and I am proud. Someone said, if you are travelling with a first-timer don't worry. It is with those confident drivers that you have to be carefull.
Experience through the police check-posts without driving License is fun...though I have taken precautions, which are many, to fool smart people...I can't discuss it here. the bottomline is that I drive well, without harming any life.