Friends across Border

After a month long vacation in Gelephu, I am left with no more appetite for fun in Phuntsholing. It's time to relax and retune my mood back to normal mode because in few days I will be back in school. It's already my fourth day in Phuntsholing but I haven't seen anything here yet, perhaps I don't want to go out like I used to do. I wouldn't even be stopping here for so long if Friday wasn't a holiday. It cost me three more days to wait for Monday to visit one office here.

Waiting seems to make days last longer. Thank god we are offered a nice suite room to complete our holiday in south. So in between endless sleeping and television shows I am working on the wonderful host's design works, from logo to signboard, website to Facebook Page for the hotel.

And like an annual ritual I visited my friend Bikash in supermarket. We met some seven years ago. On the first day of his clothing business we met and the following year when I went to meet him he was more than happy to see me. He said his business is booming, he already owned two shops and supplied to other shops as well. He said we were his lucky charm. So this lucky charm goes to meet him every year.

Bikash- Seven Years of Friendship

Another friend I made over the years was Amit Kumar. I know him for five years now. He brought Gola to Jaigoan from Mumbai. He would always ask about my family and send us message through common friends. He has hundreds of Bhutanese friends but when I meet him he will always make me feel like I am his best friend. He and other momo guys are moved from their regular location and are currently operating near Hanuman temple. They are fighting to come back.

I suggested him to visit Thimphu and other places across Bhutan during festivals and he liked the idea.

Ninzi with Amit's Gola, and Amit is Standing behind her!

Its's Seriously Winter in Thimphu

Having lived all my life away from Thimphu and having been just a visitor on rare occasions, the most I know about life in Thimphu was on Facebook and Twitter. Keeping aside the occasional crime news, Thimphu seemed like a nice place to come, with popular musicians playing in popular pubs, intellectuals gathering over coffee, artists putting exhibitions, young entrepreneurs polishing their dreams, etc. 

Thimphu wakes up!

I have come here on a paid vacation of twenty days and I thought I would live the Thimphu life to the fullest this winter, but here I realized that all the glamour on Facebook are frozen. It was best left on Facebook. By the time I lock my classroom in the evening it's already dark, and there is hardly anything left outdoor. 

And without my family waiting at home I feel no rush to go home any sooner, so I drive around to see Thimphu at night with heater on, and soon I convince myself that there is nothing there to see at all. Then I retire to my sister's place and wrap myself up in blankets until dinner and watch UFC after dinner till I doze off. And the next morning is another painful experience...

Changlimithang Stadium at Night

Tashichodzong at Sunrise

I miss Wangdue already, because it's not the place that makes life interesting, I realized, it's the way we live that makes the place interesting, and the way we live in Wangdue is the best way to lead a life...

Teacher: The Restricted Species

This vacation I have had the privileged of travelling different places and sharing my winter with variety of teachers at the expense of government. I had written program for what was to happen in the classroom and I have even written the report on what happen in last fifty days and how I used up nearly a million ngultrum that spent some nights in my bank account.
However the best part of the show wasn't these rigid official stuffs, they were but the joy of reunion of long lost friends, excitement of meeting new people whom I wish I had met ages ago, the jokes we crack over tea and lunch and the hope and promise of meeting again.
Today I said good bye and received generous acknowledgement from the last batch of teachers. And as I shut down the last computer in Punakha I stopped to reflect on the winter vacation that I didn't have, and from among infinite memories something stood out quite firmly which made me laugh. It's something about the change in human behavior after one becomes teacher, of course it's just my personal theory based on my crazy observations this cold season, that most teachers are fond of tobacco and alcohol.
These two intoxicating substances are the plots of all stories that teachers talk about. It's amazing how many hands come forward at the sight Baba khaini or cigeratte, and how promptly everybody joins you in a bar late in the evening. It's not even surprising to smell strong alcoholic breath from teachers' early in the morning. If you don't drink, and if you don't even smoke or chew tobacco then you are considered a saint or an abnormal teacher.
While I enjoyed the same bloodline I couldn't help wondering why we became so even after knowing all the ill effects in the world. I curiously asked a few of them, some say it's because of the huge population of teachers while I found more substance in the second reason we found- that these stuffs are forbidden fruits for teachers and the human inside us overtook the teacher in us. We are the restricted species among the humankind and therefore we are rampaging into our freedom.

Phuntsholing Youth and My Car

I was surprised when police didn't see the forest fire under the clear blue sky, but later today I was surprised no more- Phuntsholing police has too many thing to take care of. There wasn't a day I didn't see groups of youth swaying by road under the influence of some intoxicants. And today some of then crossed their limits on to my car. My poor already-injured car was peacefully parked alongside several others when a group of boys practiced their boxing skills on our side mirrors.
My wife and another car owner shouted from their windows only to get back all sorts of slang. I was in the class when my wife called me up, she informed me that the culprits were head in my direction and that I could track them down by the side of the Doti river.
The kids were totally senseless and one boy was bleeding badly from the cut he got from punching our mirrors. To my disbelieve there were two girls in same conditions making a show out of themselves on the road where hundreds were passing by. I asked myself, would I help these girls if they were raped? With the border so near, and so many warnings, I will never understand why these girls had to do this.
Three cars were broken and police was informed, the culprits were under my watchful eyes. By the time police arrived the two girls were gone- good for them, I can't imagine how their parents would feel if they were arrested. After a hard chase three boys were brought down, and thanks to them I got my mirror broken and now I have to waste my afternoon in police station giving statements.
The very moment I saw the mother of the bleeding boy my heart broke. I wished if the boy spared some of the money invested in his fashionable clothes on his mother's clothing too. Her pitiable condition and her begging eyes melted my anger into sorry. All three of us soon withdrew our case, which was to be done in writing. I went to the boy and requested him, "Please, never do anything that may bring your mother to police station- this is the last place they want to be.  We are withdrawing the case not because your crime is minor but because your mother has to take the punishment. She doesn't deserve this."
Other two parents looked ok but all their self esteem faded as they entered the office and they were literally on our feet. They may be some respectable people but thanks to their kids they had to bow to their knees before us.
Please watch where you kids are going and what they are doing during the holidays.

Biggest Fire Disaster in Bhutan- Chamkhar Fire

Bhutanese architecture is known for its lavish woodwork. Until recently even nails were shaped from wood. It is the wood that gives beauty to country’s various infrastructures. The rich forest provides easy supply of cheap timber for construction. However this very material that we pride in is the greatest weakness of our architecture.

Ruins of Drukgyel Dzong. Destroyed by fire in 1950s

Ruins of Drukgyel Dzong in Paro and Singye Dzong in Mongar are chilling reminder of how vulnerable our structures are against fire. Thimphu Tashichodzong and Paro Rimpung Dzong had to be reconstructed after major fire disasters.

Every year several families are made homeless across country. In 2002 February my village lost twenty five houses to fire. I was then in Monger working in construction of Kurizampa. When I returned home, it was gone. Hundreds of years of family memories are smoked into the frozen sky. Those were the hard times in our life; sleeping in tents with icy ground underneath. My baby sister was only two days old and had to spend her tender days in the open winter air.

When I heard of the biggest fire disaster in Bumthang Chamkhar this morning it broke my heart, because I truly know the pain of being homeless at the face of approaching winter. It is sad to share that disaster has just begun for them, what follows after today will devastate many families. In building my village back we saw lots of deaths, which were the aftermath of the fire. It became impossible to get manpower and cost of material and labor shot record high. It took us over five years to get back into the warmth of our homes despite the generous help from the throne. And just when we had our home back my tired stepfather gave up on his life. Eight years on, we still have a few families hoping to get their house roofed.

Photo by Kesang Tshering, Kuensel.

With already high demand for construction labor across the country I can’t imagine how long it would take for the many victims to have their homes back. For now it is very inspiring to see how quickly government reacted in dealing with the disaster. In few years time they will have new homes but what they lost today would go on to change the course of their lives. I only wish them hope and courage to go on.