World Cup outside Exam Hall

Forget the exam, Focus on the ball.

Tomorrow morning these kids will take their best pens and enter the exam hall to write what they have learnt in these five months. By the way what did they learn? As far as the learning is concerned they did a lot. But exam a totally different story; it is time to write what is in the book. God knows, if it is enough to conclude how much they learnt. And if it is the book things that they are supposed to read and reproduce tomorrow what are they doing in the paddies with football? Like I said last time, students know that exam happens twice or thrice a year but World Cup is a four yearly event, which should not be taken lightly.

Free Pen Carrying Message with Irony

I was in the Dzong yesterday for clearing up some official mess. One of my CE students working in accounts section insisted on taking me for lunch. The rustic canteen served good meals and attracted every official from the Dzong. Among them was a lady who distributed pens among us. It was a nice pen I got. It took us some time to discover that the pen had glossy scroll that can be pulled like a rubber band. Upon reading what was one the scroll I found out it was from National Environment Commission of Bhutan to spread their message on critical issues like "Save Water", "Reduce Waste", "Reduce Air Pollution", "Save the Forest", "Say NO to ozone Depleting Substance". It carried another page of information on the back page with the heading "Help save our Environment" with the mention of Article 5.1 of the Constitution of Kingdom of Bhutan.

The Irony: The pen is made of plastic, including the scroll inside. It must take about three plastic bags to make pen of this size and quality. Again there must be thousands of such pen freely distributed. Now tell me how can I "Say NO to ozone Depleting Substance" when it is such a nice pen given by a cute NEC lady herself. Or is she checking our ethics?

However, I am thankful to the pen giver lady. This pen is meant for teachers; we can overwrite our class timetable on the scroll. Of course I finished reading the message already. 

My Brother Left his Job

Sonam excitedly agreed to work while he waited for his exam this winter. He was lucky to be employed by a private mini industry right away as a site supervisor. I envied his job; he only has to look after the labours and study his syllabus. His employer promised two months exam leave and paid him Nu.6000 for just being there. Housing was provided for free.

Sonam (left) with senior colleague at the work site

It has been over three months he has been working there and I saw my brother brimming with pride as he discussed his work stories with us during his Sundays at home. He was often taken out for lunch by his boss and it was going on so well.

But suddenly he became ill and had to come to hospital. It happened almost every week. And last weekend his back started aching bad. He couldn’t rise easily once seated. I found it out during one of my casual visits to his site. I brought him home and asked him to call his boss for leave but he told me that he had informed his colleague on the site do it for him.

Monday morning he was feeling better and I insisted him to go to work. When he called his lady colleague on site she informed him that the boss has asked him to put up resignation letter and he flatly agreed. I knew it was misinterpretation by the girl and misunderstanding by him but no matter how much I negotiate with him there was no moving forward. His ego was badly hurt.

Later that evening I found out that I was right; boss has just said he may resign if he didn’t want to work. The girl didn’t inform the boss, nor did she tell about my brother illness when the boss asked. She simply said he had gone home. It took me the whole evening to explain to my brother the right meaning of his boss’s words and upon failing to get it through I had to narrate what I had to go through as early as sixteen. He is past twenty and I am there for him but when I was struggling I had no one to help me; I was hungry all my elementary school days, at sixteen I worked in construction as labour and by nineteen I was sending home money as apprentice teacher.

Next morning he was up early and ready to go to work. I dropped him at his site and even gave my piece of mind to the girl. The boss was on his way and I didn’t have time to wait for him. I just said my brother was sick and now he is back over the phone. Toward the afternoon I was told that my brother has packed his thing, and only thing I could do was to go and get him home.

The boss it at the site then, he apologetically shook my hand and explained why he said what he had said. He said my brother was straight forward, shy and a good human being but he being a student may have bigger dreams, he wanted to resign. I thanked him for employing my brother and apologized on behalf of my brother for leaving work in the middle of the work season. He finally told me that he wanted a permanent worker, whom he could train and keep through out. I told him I have bigger dreams for my brother.

I brought my brother back and asked him to focus on his studies. I didn’t let my brother work for money alone; I wanted him to learn how life is like for a half educated man. What he had gone through this time could be his fate forever if doesn’t study well this time; throwing himself at a mercy of someone. He has set up his study table firm and was on it through out this morning. He saw his life, he wants to change it!

Green Car: a car truly for Bhutan

REVA in Bhutan!

I saw the cute electric car commuting in Thimphu often and it got me wondering. Only last night’s “Jurwa” program on BBS enlightened me. I was amazed by the speed it could travel at on battery; 80 km per hour. Once fully charged it could take you 80 km far and at the end of the journey you could happily plug it up at home, without having to waste tie going to fuel pumps and never having to worry about the ups and downs of fuel price. At the top of advantages list stands its zero emission feature, car truly meant for green Bhutan.

What makes driving difficult on a regular car is the clutch and gear system, which are not there on this green car making it more attractive. Your left foot can be at rest at all times and when your right foot shifts from accelerator to brake the battery gets recharged, amazing! No noise pollution at all, which means you can sneak out of home without your children’s notice, making office going all the more easier.

But the car is small and looks like a toy, as if it was meant for kids. This external design was not taken seriously at all. You can’t help smiling when an adult drives it. Like lynpo Nado Rinchen pointed out, it should have three standard seats at the back for Bhutanese to find it practical. While Lynpo’s ideas of encouraging Bhutanese by giving incentives such as 1.Tax free 2.No parking fee and 3.Regrestration fee exemption are very bright, the car maker should reconsider its design according to Bhutanese ego.

REVA NXR- Better option!

We Bhutanese are known for showing off; we are always worried “what people would say?” It is no exception even during funerals; we want the most number of cars joining the convoy, excluding the small cars. We borrow clothes for festivals. Some pay Nu.70,000 for a dress they can only wear once a year. Santro, Alto and Maruti 800 cars are called kanchi cars in Thimphu, among the Prados and Mercedes. So the maker should make it big and stylish, money no problem.

On the economic ground, who would want to invest Nu.345, 000 in a toy-like car when we can easily buy a standard one at the same price? Of course we fail to realize that an average car consumes more than Nu.75, 000 worth of fuel and gear oil a year, which will be Nu.375,000 in five years, price of another car. While the green car can be charged for free even at your aunt’s place.

Sources of the two pictures are linked to the picture themselves. Click on them.

Breast Envy

In Sigmund Freud’s psychosexual development theory there is an interesting phrase that describes a girl child’s desire for penis, and the power that it represents. This is described as penis envy. I ain’t Freud’s fan a bit; everything in his theory sounds crazy but I own a strange feeling that no word could describe, and which somehow relates to his penis envy concept. 

After I became father I started wondering why I can’t breastfeed my daughter. I shared my funny state of mind with Germaine, a Singaporean friend, who inspired me with stories she read about male breast feeding being possible in some scientific research papers. It is known as male lactation.  She gave me a few living examples including a western doctor and a Hollywood actor. I tried a few times myself but my daughter would look at my face and smile away. 

It is too much a job for a mother to carry the baby for nine months in her belly, suffer the near death experience of delivery, and still having to sooth the baby every now and then, even in the middle of night. What are fathers for? Gone are the days when fathers go out in search of food, now a days if father puts the bread on the table it is mother who puts the butter. But god needs to redesign the human anatomy. Why did he have to give both to woman after all, what if the mother passes away? Why did he have to give two little nipples to man when he had no intention of filling it up?

My daughter likes playing with me, knowing I could lift her higher than her mother do and take her places out of home. But every now and then she looks for her mother despite my hardest effort in pleasing her. When she wakes from her naps I love being by her but she would cry as if she saw a stranger, only her mother’s presence would make her smile. She can spend days without me and that makes me feel inferior. I am almost unnecessary in my daughter’s growth. If only I could breastfeed her I would feel like a complete father.

Cc: to God, for necessary action.

Butterfly

I was dying to own a professional camera but looks like I have to wait for sometime. While I wait my friend Yam let me use his camera for about two weeks. It was like dream come true. I got plenty of great shots of my family, especially my daughter's. The following two are my first try on something different.

Caught in my Aunty's garden

Potted Flower attracts Butterflies too!

World Cup verses Mid Term Exam

Of all months in the year FIFA had to choose June for World Cup finals. It’s exam time here in Bhutan, but who cares? I do. We have more football fans in our school than students. This morning the exam time table was put up on the notice board but they already have the World Cup fixture occupying their walls. Every student walks with the notion that the world Cup is bigger than exam, it happens once in four years, while exam happens every now and then.

If I were a student myself I would have already finished my revision, or may decide to ignore the league round, and enjoy finals after the exam is done well. On the other hand some are already busy putting bets. When the World Cup is over, only thing that will bring joy to a student’s life is the exam result, for Cristiano Ronaldo wouldn’t even know there exists a country call Bhutan forget about boy who cheered his every move wearing Portugal jersey late into nights.


As of myself, I have already written an application of request to my wife for the possession of TV remote during the entire world cup season. And because she doesn’t watch serials at all, I got lucky. But my worry will be residing in the next room, over his study table keenly listening to the commentaries and celebrating the goals. My son is the biggest football fan I know, and I don’t know how far his mind will be on his book during the exam.
I bet for Argentina!


Photo Source: bleacherreport.com

My Daughter tasting the first spoon of food

My Darling Sitting Up!

Tonight at 9PM my daughter will be 6 months old. And this morning she tasted the first spoon of food in her life. Her mother and grandmother excitedly enjoyed feeding her, I missed the moment. But this afternoon I watched her during her lunch. She got irritated when her mom took forever in preparation; she was screaming and licking her lips as she saw the bowl coming. Surprisingly she cleaned it thoroughly and was ready for more. She has been hungry for last six months. We fought the temptation of feeding her for so long. My mother tells me that I was fed the very day I was born. It’s our achievement that we could hold on so far.

There were a few exceptions we had to give ourselves; we used diaper in the first week, we has to give her pcm often, we put her in the walker when she was five months and we already started carrying her on our backs. There is right time for everything, but the right time depends on whom you are listening to. So often we decided when the right time is. Of course we would have avoided the medications but there was some unfortunate period in my darling’s life; she was ill and suffering from fever and pain in her neck, which is when we couldn’t help. I thank the doctors in Bajo BHU and JDWNRH and most of all my doctor friend on Facebook, Dr. S. Pradhan.

Today, as my daughter becomes half a year old I am happy to have my mother with me. My mother watches her granddaughter speeding around the room in walker and unscrewing whatever gets into her way. She makes different sounds in different moods and won’t leave us bored. She can already recognize her mom, father, brother Jigme and uncle Samten. She will remain silent if someone other than us picks her up, then if she is no released soon she will cry, but to my pleasure she doesn’t mind my mother.

My Sleeping Child!

One major question is answered today after she emptied the blow of rice soup, i.e. 6 months is the right time to feed your baby. There were other questions like, when should we start bathing her? When should we start using diaper? When can we wear her pants? When is the right time to use pillow? Can we use pacifier after the second month? When can we put her in the walker? When should we start feeding her? We passed all these questions. Now comes the next section of questions: When can we give her solid food? Is it ok to give her vegetables after seventh month? When can we let her walk on her own? What is the first sentence that we should be teaching her? And My personal best question is, when can I start teaching her English Literature and abstract Art?

Potato and chips story

In school there was a popular joke about Bhutanese way of doing business; we sell a kg of potato for Nu.5 to India and same potato will be fried into chips and sold back to us, only this time we pay Nu.5 per potato. But the serious part of this joke is those highland potatoes are second to none.

I remembered this joke from my childhood on seeing one news on BBS. A bold lady has initiated a green program of recycling papers. She is receiving impressive support from government offices and schools in Thimphu. Of course, who would not want to give away their waste? She is spreading happiness by creating employment, taking care of others’ waste, dealing with environment problem and still making money herself. Hope she will receive recognition for role in reducing waste and pollution.

You might wonder why I remembered a joke on such a wonderful act. Well she is not recycling the paper. She is just sending it out. When I saw jute bags full of papers ready for loading, I wondered how much would each bag fetch. Not more than Nu.100 or Nu.200. There in each bag should be enough paper to make 100 Notebooks, and when it comes back to Bhutan after recycling we will be paying them over Nu.5000. Fifty folds! That’s beyond potato and chip story.

Bhutan will never make microchips or jetfighters but history tells us that we were the makers of world’s strongest paper. We have the history but we failed to move forward. We are still making world’s strongest paper but with technology we used 100 years ago and at the same old pace- hope this is not what we call preservation of culture.  Jokes apart, we need not make the machine to make paper, a country can afford to buy one and contribute toward socioeconomic development.

How long are we going to go on doing potato and chips business?

27 Years in Teaching and Divided From Family- My Aunt's Story

One Saturday, during my regular weekend visit to my aunty at Punakha she showed me a certificate from 1990. It was awarded to her for successful completion of NAPE course then. What is surprising is that the certificate was wrongly addressed and she just got it from her contemporary after 20 years. The paper was neatly kept and looks as fresh as it was delivered this morning, though in these many years my aunty has become grandmother to two granddaughters. Perhaps now you can guess how many years she served as teacher.

She is new in Punakha and houses in Kuruthang are not at all welcoming. She has lost some weight over the week climbing to the tiny room beneath the roof. We scanned the whole town with all the relatives we have around in search of a decent house, and this is what we had to agree with; a three unit attic with lights coming in only through the transparent roof. The new place and the tiny house have stolen away my aunt’s soul. She looked defeated and depressed, and that’s why I always find time to give her company with my family.

Twenty five years ago, or ten years ago if she was posted to Punakha it would have been very usual and she would have taken it with joy. At this age when joints start paining it is hard for her to believe that she has to move out of Thimphu on compulsory transfer. It is a policy well thought over by the ministry when it comes to making it fair for the system but what about the humane side?

Many of her mates are directors and secretaries, a few are even ministers now, sad but true some have passed away but she is still living and teaching. Recently she tells me that even her students are there among directors and secretaries, sadly they won't remember her because she taught them in PP. Young teachers have new system in place whereby there is a strong career ladder. If it was there during her time by now she would be reigning somewhere on the top. But since 1985 she has only grown horizontally. She has no complains. She knew her service is delivered and therefore would be acknowledged. Not in her wildest dream did she see herself being punished for 25 years of service.

Her children suggested her to resign and take rest because she has already shown sign of wearing of her lung and vocal cord from quarter century of shouting with little children. Money has never been their problem and will not be, now that uncle earns triple his old salary with the new job and their daughter is in job. It is about dedication to work. With her degree of perseverance and experience I would be expecting a medal of honor from the ministry and not punishment.

Why am I calling it a punishment? My aunty and uncle are all by themselves far from the crowd of Thimphu. They planned the cottage on their own to spend their old age. Uncle is in late fifties and worse he is a bad cook. Tears welled in my eyes when he started learning how to cook last winter after aunt’s transfer was confirmed. Their three children are away on job and studies. Uncle may be used to staying alone from his lifelong experience in arm force but not hungry. If he falls sick there is nobody around to offer him a cup of water.

On the other side of Dochula my aunty, who has always lived in crowd of children, has to sleep with TV still on, she is a good cook but with her husband surviving on Maggie she can hardly enjoy a meal. She is overweight and very much vulnerable to sudden illness. But if she wishes to lose weight now, her wish is granted already. I have never been old so far, therefore I don’t know how true it is when old people say they feel lonely. If it is true I feel sorry for them that the system has made it worse.

Writer’s Note: With this article I don’t mean to question the policy because I know any policy is bound to hurt some people. It must look at the majority, for even God himself couldn’t create something that could please everybody. I only wrote it in sympathy and love for my aunty.