Plastic Won't Be a Problem in Bhutan

In school we were told plastic was among the worst things that could pollute our environment because it would not disintegrate in 800 years, ok, just say forever. It means that the very first batch of plastic mankind produced, which was in 1862, hasn't yet disappeared and in last many year god knows how much more plastic the world would have produced. Imagine if Zhabdrung had thrown a plastic bag in a field in Punakha it would still be there. But don't worry there wasn't plastic during Zhabdrung's time.

From 1862 to 1970, plastic was seen as a magical material that could be crafted into variety of shapes and substitute precious natural substances like tortoiseshell, ivory, horn, and linen. The revolutionary discovery gained the reputation of being the saviour and protector of natural environment because it drastically reduced on the hunting of elephant and tortoise.

It was the beginning of material abundance that helped people gain access to affordable essential resources when inexpensive plastic replaced the scarce natural resources. Things became cheaper, lighter, safer and stronger. The development of computer, cellphone, and all the advanced technology was made possible by plastic, including electricity and transportation. It raise the living standard of people.

Suddenly in 1970s world woke up and made the once saviour of the natural world into the terror of the natural world. It wasn't the plastic that changed its property suddenly in 1970s. It's like the common Bhutanese saying about how even mother's breast milk can be poisonous if over-consumed. Human beings began using plastic in everything and everywhere without considering where it would land up at the end.

Plastic clogs drainage systems and flood cities, it overwhelms landfills and leach out dangerous chemicals that are threats to lives, in river system it can endanger aquatic lives, it will soon invade our agricultural fields make them infertile, and at the end it will take away our forest. But remember plastic doesn't go there on their own, it's us who ill-manage it. Plastic is a Frankenstein and we are being very insensitive with it.

But in Bhutan we have our smallness on our side, today it may seem like we have plastic problem but if you have observed carefully, one moment you see lots of plastic bottles thrown around and next moment it's gone. It's just a matter of one good solution, because plastic is a magical element. My little niece Bumchu won't leave any plastic pottle at home or in our cars, because her school has the practice of collecting and selling plastic waste to Greener Way.

Now Greener Way has a local market in The Green Road right in Thimphu, where a young entrepreneur, Rikesh Gurung, with the technical capacity and legal right in executing the revolutionary idea of using plastic in blacktopping roads has opened shop. "The technology involves coating of aggregate with molten waste plastic before it is mixed with bitumen. Besides being an effective solution to plastic waste menace, it brings down considerably the cost of laying roads and enhances their life."-The Hindu
Thimphu alone produces 50 tonnes of plastic waste daily and the landfill has over 200,000 tonnes of plastic, says the founder of The Green Road, which means he will have enough resources to make better and cheaper roads in the country, and he will not run out of his key ingredient. And the best part is plastic in Bhutan will not be a problem anymore.

But I'm surprised Rikesh's idea didn't receive red-carpet welcome in the country. If our concerns about plastic waste were genuine and all the headlines meant anything serious I would expect the government to hug the young man because his project can kill two cockroaches at one spank; better road and plastic management.

Interestingly before Rikesh could showcase his first task of blacktopping 30 meters road in Thimphu, another project made a headline. It's about a technology that will be setup at the landfill to convert plastic into crude oil. I am throughly confused now. Rikesh has multi-million plant setup and now another project is threatening to steal away his raw material, what is this all about? Do we have so much plastic waste to feed two big projects? While the rest of the world is suffocating in their plastic waste, it looks like we are going to face plastic waste scarcity. Anyway, it's good for us!

Honest Scooter

A brief story on this incident was earlier posted on my Facebook wall. 

A few days ago I witnessed a disheartening incident at the Changlam square in Thimphu. There was a group of high school girls who hurriedly gathered along the pavement, craned their necks across the road and began laughing at something seemingly very funny. I got curious and walked a few step to get their perspective. I thought they were looking at Phuba Thinley because he was capable of making people laugh on the street.

But just then I saw a young couple riding on an old Bajaj scooter and the girls continued laughing as they passed by. It looked like a typical scene from a movie- a snobbish gang of girls mocking at a poor newcomer in the school parking. The couple seemed to have noticed because they parked behind a car and didn't come out until the girls left.

My Friend Che Dorji sent me this picture to make his statement

I looked at the girls and wondered how it was possible for these young girls to reflect the same old school outlook we saw during our times. I thought their generation shunned this cheap social-status mentality but I felt so sorry to see the dark shadow of our generation cast over their innocent path. They forgot the Cinderella story already. They had
misplaced their values living in our hypocritical society.

For them the scooter was a joke. They couldn't see how unpretentiously the couple rode on what they could afford. They couldn't see the humility of the couple to ride a scooter among the big cars. They couldn't feel that perhaps it could be an honest scooter owned by a content family.

And perhaps they didn't know that laughter could be dangerous; the couple might go home and think of buying a car and to afford the car they will land up selling their happiness, and worse even their honesty and integrity. But I prayerfully hope this didn't happen.

It's not nice to laugh at anybody unless they are joking, but if children love laughing at all I recommend them to laugh at high profile thieves, con artists, and manipulators who have betrayed the king, country and the people. Their name list is with the ACC and many names have already been published in media. They may not be riding on Bajaj scooters but whatever they are driving is stolen.

From the Hospital Bed

Sitting on the stool next to the bed and sleeping on the bed itself are two completely different perspectives in life. I have been in the hospital one too many times, mostly to attend to the sick, sitting on the tall uncomfortable stool.

For a change in perspective, I have always wanted to look at life from the hospital bed once, like taking a vacation from life, but without much pain. I wanted to lie there without a worry in the world. I wanted to take along my laptop and edit my stories, write blogs and contemplate over life.

I know a time will come when I am there on the hospital bed never to return home, to wait for the ultimate end, in pain, without hope, and with only past to look back on. But like a trial run, right now, from the middle of my life and I wanted to do a midlife review when there's still hope, time and energy, so that I could change the way I live the gap between this first review and the final review of my life on earth.

There I was on the hospital bed without any pain and feeling a bit amused. I had an overdue surgery from years ago and this time I had my vacation to finally dare it. When I was admitted I carried my beddings and walked in. The security guard asked if I had a new admission. I said yes. Where? Here! Even he was amused.

My son Jigme, who was supposed to attend to me looked like a patient. He finished few packets of chips before collapsing on the next bed. The nurses were confused every time they came on rounds. In the morning he was the last person to rise. It was kind of a trial run for him too...

It was from 10 pm that things stopped being amusing because I was to start fasting. They started feeding me from my veins. I was experiencing all these for the first time; sleeping on hospital bed, getting an IV, fasting... thank god I had good experience as an attendant to understand whatever was going on. But I couldn't help wonder how a man could be fed from a pinhole on the skin, while throughout our lives we ran after satisfying our expandable mouth.

And the heartbreaking irony was seeing your friends and family come and fill your bedside with loads of edibles when all you could do was to switch your gaze between the IV bottle and the riches on the bedside table.

But to my disappointment I couldn't even open my laptop. It was going to look very rude not to be in pain when rest of your roommates were. It was going to look like another office day. Besides the inspiration you would have while siting on the stool won't come when you were lying on the bed. And soon my mouth parched for a sip of water. I knew if I stayed awake any longer I would land up drinking something and that would result in termination of my surgery. So there went my romantic ideas of writing on the hospital bed.

Next morning I was made to wear the green gown that showed my back to the world. I had to be very careful because my daughter was following me mischievously and I could trust her to embarrass me. I was like a curious science student wanting to see how things worked inside the operation theatre. But before long I was put to deep sleep, literally dead for the time being.

I was handed back to my family after three hours and the moment I heard their voices I made a subconscious attempt to show them Thumbs Up. I could feel them dragging my bed on a rough surface. It was hours later that I could ask for water but my wife would only wet my lips with few drops. I could feel my nostrils loaded and nose plastered. My daughter and niece found me like their cartoon character Oggy.

There after I could see people coming and going like in dreams and all I was thinking about was when would they remove the packing from my nostrils. I didn't want to remain awake and feel suffocated. I went on sleeping. Nurses came often to give me doses of medicine, which I didn't need a day ago. I was officially ill now. I needed support to sit up. I wished if I could pee in my bed. It's then I realised the real difference between sitting on the stool and lying on the bed.

After what seemed like ages, which was actually the next day, my nostrils were cleared but there was another hard plastic support which had to stay for another few days. I was discharged after that and here am I enjoying my third day of rest. My wife, sister and brother in-law are pampering me like a little child.

My nose hasn't resumed its job yet, my spine and neck are aching and I can't swallow solid food easily. But I hope these are prices I am paying for a better nose. I asked for it.

As for the bigger question on reflecting on life I realised that I don't need a hospital bed to take vacation from life. This one trial run is enough to make me realise that whatever I have to do must be rushed before I reach the hospital bed because the world in there has its own problem to solve.

P:S: Knowing it was a simple surgery I didn't want to bother anybody but many of you showed up and I must tell you it feels so good to see people when you are on hospital bed. I will always remember this. 

Bhutanese Bloggers App- Coming soon

On 24 June 2015 we saw the union of 35 Bhutanese bloggers in Thimphu. 35 is by far the biggest number we had so far. This time almost every blogger in Thimphu managed to come, with little icing on the top from Wangdue and Paro. A friend of Bhutanese bloggers from Singapore, Rima has also made it to the gathering.

We ran out of space in this room...

During this Blogger Meet we made some serious decisions with guidance from Dasho Sangay Khandu and Au Yeshey Dorji; first we decided to call ourselves the Community of Bhutanese Bloggers and we agreed to meet at least twice a year. With optimism given by the overwhelming attendance we felt the need to look for better settings hereafter and to sustain the community we decided on membership fee. An elected working group is now working on a document that will guide our events.

The community made it clear that we may support each other but will never influence or interfere with anyone's freedom of expression, and that goes on to say that individual bloggers are solely responsible for what they write and how they write, even after having the community. It's little early to say but I see ourselves organising inspirational workshops to empower bloggers. We even saw possibilities of organising Bloggers awards.

Personally, my favourite outcome of the meet would be the idea of creating a smartphone app I randomly shared, which I am not sure if other endorsed but nonetheless I will work on this and when it's done I am sure the community will love it.

The App is going to be something like BHUTANews that collates feeds from all news sites. Our app will collate feeds of our members' blogs so that every blogger gets equal readership. The app can have features to analyse blogs through readership and interaction to come up with nominations for possible blogger awards. I'm going to talk to the maker of BHUTANews, who is a very good friend of mine. Let me find out what it would take to have such an app.

By the time we settled for this photo session, 12 friends have left...

I want to thank my co-organizers Nawang Phuntsho, Riku Dhan Subba and Rekha Mongar for making it possible. For the cosy venue and refreshment We would like to thank our friend Tharchen, CEO of iBest. And for the dinner, we would like to thank Wangyel Tshering for your generous donation and Ma'am Tshering Dollar for offering to add on it.

We missed so many bloggers who weren't in Thimphu on the day. We would like you to know that the community would love to have your presence in the future meets. There is no criteria, no formality and no restriction of any sort. No one is a stranger in the community.

Letter to Thimphu Thrompon: What's the Worth of a Poor Man's Life in Your City?

Dear Thrompon Kinley Dorji, Thimphu,

I have very high regards for you. You have been the biggest and the nicest surprise we had out of the voting machine. I applauded you every time I saw you on TV; for your work, you honesty, your fairness and your fearlessness. But this time I am thoroughly disappointed with you.

I want to ask you, what’s the worth of a poor man’s life in your city, Thimphu? The way you handled the death of your 63-year-old employee was very insensitive as the employer. He died in the line of duty and it was your duty to give him an honorable funeral and compensate his family as per the company policy. But you have reduced his life’s worth to Nu.40,000 that’s not even worth the smart phone in your hand. You have left the rest to the fate of the case against the building owner who is busy blaming the ambulance.

Amidst this shameless and endless blame game the sentiments of the poor family is sidelined. The family’s sole bread earner is gone, widow is in her sixties who now has to look after several children, some of whom are disabled. The family is not even worried about car or phone, they are running out on food supplies. Why should the family suffer for so long? The family needs support now and the company compensation should have reached them already. You as their leader should have at least managed to comfort the family with normal compensation.

The building owner who built that burial wall should be held responsible for death of a public servant on duty due to their negligence. This case should be fought with all your might and come out with a landmark victory that will pave way for all Bhutanese to understand their right and to respect other’s right, regardless of social status. Whatever you can draw out from them can be paid to the bereaved family as additional compensation. Yes, additional compensation, the real compensation should not depend on this.

And if the wall owner thinks Nu.200,000 is huge and wants to keep blaming the hospital for not sending a health worker along with the driver, then they should perhaps read the story of a widow who won a $23.6 Billion Lawsuit against tobacco company R.J. Reynolds. In this case, her husband died of lung cancer and not killed by their company truck.

Personally, today on father's day I miss my father who was killed in a bus accident. The bus company should have been responsible, the driver should have been responsible, or the house owner who kept debris on the narrow road should have been responsible but only my father paid the price. My family alone suffered. This should not happen to anyone at this time and age. 

So, dear Thrompon please pay the compensation first and then pursue the case with the wall owner. In your city even a pet dog gets more respect, he was a human being, he worked for the city, don’t let this happen.

Still Very Respectfully Yours
PaSsu

My Mother is Back in Village

I was very happy when my mother went to Thimphu to live with my sister. I always wanted her to lead easy life once we grew up, because she had suffered enough of rural hardship in brining me and my four siblings up. The time had come for her to hang her spades. She could live with me but she chose to live with my sister because she found herself more useful there because my office going sister needed a helping hand in babysitting her two children.

My mother, proud as she should be, gave away our cows and hens, left the fields fellow, locked our home and came to Thimphu to live with her daughter, along with our baby sister. In Thimphu, the sunburn on her face soon faded, her rough fingers softened and she gained weight. It was the beginning of a happy chapter in her life. She was the queen of the family with a loving brother inlaw.

She would visit me briefly from time to time, and we would talk of our village and people there. Soon we had very less subjects to talk about, because she didn't have anything more to talk about our village. I could sense a subtle longing in her during the long hours we spent near the TV in silence. She would sleep in the afternoon like a baby and mostly grumble about petty thing. My once confident mother who was a leader of kind in our village sounded so subdued over time.

How can her life be so wonderful in Thimphu when she personally had nothing significant to aspire to in life, given the kind of person she has always been. She would wake up in the morning and help prepare my little sister and niece for school, then after my brother inlaw and sister left she would take my nephew out to play. When the little boy would get tired of play she would put him to sleep and fall asleep alongside. She had managed a few friends in the neighbourhood with whom she would spend her long lonely afternoons.

In the evening when everybody returned home she would make them tea and spend the next hours running after the kids. Over dinner they would watch TV and there she would have no common topic with school going and office going people. If some guest showed up she would help with tea and snacks but if the guest was not a family member she knew, then she would take the kids into another room and wait till they left. This was her daily routine. It could have been so beautiful if it was just for a week or month but it went on for years. It was like she was waiting for the end purposelessly.

With My Ashim and our children on the way home

My mother had put on a visible amount of weight, lost her frontal teeth, complained about illnesses and had become so emotional. Every time I met her I felt little more guilty and when she nagged about petty thing I would even give her advices but deep inside I asked myself -what have we done? We were loving her in a wrong way. We took her away from home, leave her in urban isolation, make her so vulnerable to lifestyle diseases and proudly thought we were giving her our best.

Even when I thought of my village, I would first see the lock on our door, then I would see the faces of all the people who dies in last few years and even in my dreams I see my villages in gloomy weather. My villages without my mother wasn't quite the place I would want to think of. All the beautiful memories of village seemed somehow dimmed.

Toward the end of last year my mother expressed he wishes to return home because my little nephew has come of age to go to nursery school. Along with her our little sister would return too because the two of them were inseparable. Though we were worried about our little sister's education for long time we respected her decision this time.

My little Sister and Mother in the Village

Now my mother is back to the village and my sister goes to Chundu Middle Secondary School, which is just over ten minutes walk from our village. Our fields are green again, house is dusted and our chimney is smoking again. Sunburn has darkened my mother's face again but I can see a broad smile on her dark face. There are endless things in village that keeps her busy and during auspicious days she goes to village temple where elders would gather to sing Mani and chat about life.

My Happy mother with her children and Grandchildren

When I visited home last month she looked very happy and busy. I don't have to worry about lifestyle diseases anymore because she is physically engaged in some many village activities. And during the lazy afternoons she spends time with neighbours and chat endlessly over tea. She has gotten rid of her nap habits too. Her confidence is back and she is everybody's Aum Gaki in the village. I hope she will soon get back her posts as Village Health Worker, Manager of Milk Booth, Member of Women Association of Haa...

And Remember, last time during the Royal Visit she was chosen to offer Tshogchhang and that's when she was blessed with the photograph of her life with His Majesty, Her Majesty and the prime minister.

The Photograph of Her life, and ours!

Now when I think of my village I first see my happy mother's face and then our green fields. I have good dreams of my village and I once again feel like a hostel student longing to go home. Home is where mother is happy. 

Disclaimer: My village has road, electricity, etc. and is only 4 km from the town. It has three high school high schools and a junior school within five km radius. Therefore the village I am talking about cannot be related to many difficult ones across the country. I am only talking about life in my village. There are many other villages in which I won't imagine people leaving their parents for whatever reasons. 

Portable Toilet

Last weekend I have finally met Lavish Madiya with whom I had shared my aspirations of bringing home prefab toilets. In fact we met online because of my very interest in toilets. He has just ventured out to produce exactly the thing I wanted, just some 30 km away from our Phuntsholing gate.

He has come to market his products in Thimphu, which includes among other things park benches, tiles, window frames, door frames etc (See his company site) but I went to meet him specifically to understand about the prefab toilet.

My Little one with the Little Toilet

His wife Neha, who's also a writer and social worker, used the cute little prototype to explain to me the composition, features and management of the prefab toilet. They knew I was their most potential client with no money. But they have seen Bhutan Toilet Organisation on the top of Google rating in Bhutan and knew how passionate I was about it. Neha kindly shared with me the basics of getting the organisation started because she has been part of many such initiatives in India.

Lavish and Neha

The real toilet they are intending to bring in will have:

1. Net weight of 70kg 
2. Everything is detachable
3. Attached tank can be used by 25 people for a week
4. But the tank can easily be connected to a styptic tank
5. It will come with a water tap, wash basin, and urinal 
6. Tallest person in Bhutan can easily stand inside it
7. Can be customised for people with special needs
8. But the scariest part is the price- without the tax it sells at about Nu.30,000 in India

Considering the cost and transportation of cement, bricks, toilet pot, pipes, basin, walls, roof, labour charges and time I am wondering if Nu.30,000 makes sense. But it will be a while before I figure out where the money is, and meanwhile I think tour companies and event managers could consider. If I succeed you will see these toilets at your service during events like Tshechu, trade fair, book fair, clock tower events, and may be at strategic location in populated communities.

By the way, I am told that during one of big events in past years we brought in quite a number of prefab toilets from China, can anyone please enlighten me on where and how they are kept? Lets use them, if they are still there.

If you are interested in Bhutan Toilet Organisation, please register yourselves as member (Click Here)
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Visiting Museums in Bhutan

I have seen too little of the world outside Bhutan but that little experience away from home awakened my appreciation for the depth of our own country. Now I desire to travel deeper in our own country and its history than anywhere away.

Isn’t it sad that we have nothing much written down as history. We say we are rich in oral literature and history but if you realize, much is lost in transmission from one mouth to another and one generation to another. More than losing is the threat of manipulation as stories travel through time.

What hasn’t been changed, what hasn’t been altered are the stories stored in objects from the past. But sadly those stories are collecting dust in museums, and much of what people had in their homes have flown to Nepal through black market routes and rest are waiting in the handicraft shop to be sold out to western tourists.

So considering that our villages are transformed, though even if they were intact not many of us spend time there, museums are our only hope of finding original stories that are rarely heard, or never heard in its truest form.

Sometimes the mystery of our unclear history is frustrating but other times it turns out that the same mystery defines what Bhutan is. It is that desire to explore the unknown, which makes life all so meaningful for some of us. It’s the urge to travel in back in time and not just live life forward but also add a backward dimension to life. Life becomes so much bigger.

While time machine called museum is as cheap as Nu.20 per adults and Nu.5 for students; a pizza can fund a class of 40 students to any museum in Bhutan but in my 7 years on Facebook I have seen thousands of pictures of children posing with pizzas but not a single picture of child posing outside a museum.

Paro Penlop Dawa Penjor Heritage Farmhouse, one of the private museums I visited was confused when my group asked for visiting fee. They have never received any Bhutanese visitors and therefore haven’t thought of an entry fee for Bhutanese. The lady was so happy to receive the first group of Bhutanese visitors that she offered us ara and suja like she did for fee paying tourists, all for free. We were so touched the we offered no less than any tourists.

Dear parents take your children for swimming to given them the best physical exercise, take your children to a library for the best mental exercise, and take your children to a museum to exercise their imagination. Take them back in time because so many answers they may seek in the future are buried in the past.

Following is a list of Museums I have visited. It’s just a list for now, specifics of each will be written in the following blogs.

• National Museum of Bhutan, Paro
• The Tower of Trongsa, Trongsa
• Paro Penlop Dawa Penjor Heritage Farmhouse, Paro
• Folk Heritage Museum, Thimphu
• Simply Bhutan, a Living Museum, Thimphu
• Druk Home Museum, Paro

*BookMyTour has a museum specialised travel guide to help you in case you are planning a museum tour in Bhutan

National Museum of Bhutan

The Tower of Thongs

Druk Home Museum

Paro Penlop Dawa Penjor Heritage Farmhouse

Simply Bhutan, A Living Museum

Folk Heritage Museum

Knights' Corner- A WAB Book Café, Bajothang

Following is a paragraph from an article I wrote in 2014, There are 100 Bars and No Bookstore in Bajothang

"I wish to celebrate Reading Year by putting together all my gut into opening the first bookstore in Bajothang. If there are 100 ways to get drunk, let me give them one way to remain sober. It will be a huge sacrifice and I don't know how I will do it. As I type this article my friend Dawa Knight and I have already visualized a vague but brave plan to get it started-something like Book Cafe. I will need long tax holiday, book donations from individuals and established businesses, and Dawa's living room,because he has decided to remain single for some more years, to being with."

If I were in Bajothang I would have lived this sober dream much bigger but I couldn't just let the sweetest dream die with my transfer. So I handed over all the books I had to my friend and partner in this Book Cafè dream, Dawa Knight.

That one Shelf we have

Last week, when I visited him our Book Cafè was ready, but in the most humblest way. It's just one shelf of books standing in the middle of one of Dawa's rooms. It's no where close to the type of Book Café we had in mind but it was the best we could do being a working person and now displaced across Dochula.

Dawa Knight has not only sacrificed a huge private space for this initiative but also put his entire collection of books on the public shelf. The only condition he had was to give a personal touch on the name of the place. It's part of a larger initiative Writers Association of Bhutan (WAB) is taking in creating Book Café in each Dzongkhag, and since he owns and runs that place he wants to call it Knights' Corner- A WAB Book Café. It's located on the first floor of Hotel New Town.

The Space that is big enough...

The books in Knights' Corner were donated by Au Gyembo Sithey and family, Au Ugyen Tenzin and Chador Wangmo on top of our own collections. The five cartoons of books Au Gyembo Sithey contributed were gifted to me personally, but since Au wanted the books to be shared and read, I thought it can be best done by putting on Café Shelf. Your kindness is inspiring and infectious.

A Similar initiative is planned in Thimphu. The Founder of WAB, Nawang Phuntsho himself wants to dare a bookstore in Babesa, Thimphu. Kindly support him by donating books, furnitures, and kind words. If successful the place can be used a WAB headquarters.

My own plans to open one in Paro is still incubating. For now I would like to seek help and offer help for Nawang's Book Café in Babesa. Lets do something in 2015, the National Reading Year, that we will remember forever.

To Help or Donate Books Call
Nawang, Thimphu @ 17641582
Dawa Knight, Bajothang, @17163878
PaSsu, Paro @17605030
Ugyen Gyeltshen, Trongsa @17693100

Blessing

It was the October I never want to remember, the october that suddenly took away a beloved family member. My mother inlaw was a simple lady who has lived her life well. She must be the only mother inlaw who didn't complain even once in all these years we have lived together. Even heavens don't know the true fairness. She was a blessing I always cherish. And to her soul I promise that I will always love her daughter, take care of her daughter, and protect her from the world of harm, and that she can peacefully go and find her path to the next life that awaits her.  

In her last hours, when medical science didn't have anything to do, when everything was left to god, and when in between doctors and gods my mother inlaw's life slipping away I watched that screen endlessly and counted my blessings. 

The monitor shows the heart rate, the oxygen level, the blood pressure, the pulse rate, the body temperature... Whenever numbers changed badly and when ever the alarm on the machine went off I called sisters and doctors for help, I pretended to be the strongest and stood by the sick, but I was also reading the faces of people there. Even though my mother inlaw showed good signs of recovery after suffering from stroke, the hospital was preparing us for the worst. My wife cried and begged for her mother's life but after sometime I understood that the hospital has seen too many deaths to be bothered by one dying lady who is occupying their bed in ICU. 

That long painful night I stood by her bed listening to the deafening beep of the machines, suffocating rhythm of the ventilator, and watching the numbers on the screen change now and then, I realized how blessed we are every minute of our lives.
There are hundreds of things that could go wrong inside our body without warning; heart could stop, kidney could fail, blood pressure could fall or rise, temperature could shoot or drop, brain could die, all so suddenly but the fact that we are standing and breathing is a blessing- having our heart beats between 80-100 is a blessing, having our BP close to 120/80 is blessing, regular passing of urine is blessing, having body temperature around 36* is blessing, even being able to breath on our own is a blessing- but these are blessing we don't acknowledge and appreciate until one day one of these begins to misbehave in ourselves or in someone we care. I have seen all of the failing in my beloved mother inlaw to understand how blessed I am and how blessed all of you are despite life's little problems. You are blessed. 

Being the Change, Beyond Complaining

I spent my summer vacation well. I attending workshop by the day and met friends in the evenings. I made some new friends and caught up with old friends. I interviewed a several people and several people interviewed me. I met with some people with whom I have always wanted to meet. I am soon blogging about them.

Animated Introduction. Picture: BCMD

I know you don't like reading about workshops, neither do I but this workshop was different. This workshop was not about some far-fetched theories and endless handout that would go to dustbin on the way back home. It was neither one of those namesake workshops to finish certain budget. It was about awakening, about realizing our power to change things, small things around us. We spent five days inspiring ourselves and the next five days going out into the real world to make real changes.

The workshop was called Community Mapping, technically it was about locating issues and asserts in the community and getting it literally on the map. We were carrying Android phones loaded with unicef GIS mapping app. The app helps in pinning the pictures we take onto the map using Global Positioning System. But that's just the tool, the soul was how we go beyond clicking pictures and identifying problems, yes it was how we device solutions to the problems.

The unicef Map. Click on the picture to view the real map.

Problem in our country is that most of us don't know a problem is a problem, and the few who could see the problem think it's not their problem. During the workshop we were shown inspiring documentaries from around the world about problems and people- about individuals and community who led changes, who became part of solution, who went beyond just complaining about the problems.

The participants were students from high schools and colleges and I was among the few teachers. The best part of working with young people is that they don't have preconceived doubts and therefore they aren't shy about trying. Soon they make us believe that it's all so possible, and believing is success half achieved.

After five days of inspiration in the BCMD Media Lab we identified issues in Thimphu community to address as our real project. The problems we shortlisted were;

1. Management of waste party goers leave behind at Buddha Point
2. Getting City Bus to Changedaphug (Kala Bazar)
3. Campaigning against taking packaged food as Tshog (Offering) to Lhakhangs
4. Appointing a community caretaker at a labour camp 
5. City Bus vegetable vendors on stalls.

(Read about the projects in detail by clicking on the picture of the Map)

Any average citizen would say these are none of our business, but the workshop taught us to more than that, we started believing that every little issues within our community, within our country or the  world is our business. If we can bring a positive change we must do it. So for the next five days we were on the field researching, interviewing, seeking support, connecting people...

My Team with Thimphu Thrompon

On the last day we presented our project outcomes at the Tarayana hall filled with distinguished people who were themselves change makers, policy makers or people who had stake in the development of the city and its community. They all seemed very impressed and the stakeholder promised to render their support.

One striking quote from the presentations, a students said, " We came all the way from the east to put dustbins at Buddha Point". 

Bottom line is, if a streetlight is kept on during the day, some people will not notice at all, some will see and feel nothing, some will know it's waste of energy, some will click a picture and post it on Facebook or Twitter, in this workshop we were inspired to take the next step- to call the authority and inform them directly about it. This is one small change anyone can bring in a community.

During our field trip we saw a big log blocking the drain along the City Bus Parking. The log could clog the drain and during the monsoon it could flood the whole parking. Normally I would have just taken a picture of that log and posted on the Facebook, but this time I gathered my team and tried to take the log out. But it was too big for team of three men. Hundreds of people around the parking area just watched us with that's-not-our-business look. An Indian guy came by and told us that he will call his friends and do it. I was so touched until he asked 'How much is the budget?' So we went to the city office and asked for some labour to help us. There was no labour that day but they asked the location. Next day we went there to find the log was removed. 

Before

After

The workshop was conducted by Bhutan Center for Media and Democracy. I encourage Media Clubs in schools to get in touch with them and book your place for next segment of Community Mapping workshop. It can surely change you into change maker. Special Thanks to Tshering Eudon and Tsho Tsho for being such a great facilitator. 

Unsettled Echoes from Mountain Echoes 2014

I was an Alice in Wonderland for three days at Mountain Echoes Literature Festival in Thimphu, lost among people from dreams and wandering in places I normally won't dare set my foot. I was invited as a speaker there, yes seriously, and even I was surprised. But some kind people told me that I did well. Thanks.

My Session "Living on the Edge" with Siok Sian Dorji, Dr. Francoise Pommaret, Marie Venø Thesbjerg

After months of anxious waiting my session at the festival was over like a sprint at Olympic. So that's not a big story at all, the real stories were what happened around the story. I returned with heavy heart, heart overloaded with stories and therefore heavy, but for days I have been waiting for these echoes to settle down and take turns to come out. I think all of it was too much for me to digest in these few days, I need to take longer reflective rest to put pieces together.
For now, leave all the excuses aside and watch my session on YouTube (Drag the player to 2:05:00 point) if you have missed it. I forgive you.

VAST: The Art Cafe

It was in junior high school when I was dying to become an artist. I was lucky to meet my art inspiration and English teacher, Karma Wangchuk in Paro, but I never had any formal training from him. I would just look at his work, go back to hostel and play with my colors.

It was about that time VAST opened in Thimphu. By then I was doing well with watercolor and was winning some prizes in school art competitions. I went to Thimphu several times just return from the VAST door, I couldn't dare walk into the studio. I was very insecure. I thought it was for the rich and talented. That mistake cost me heavily. Even though I kept the passion throughout high school I couldn't really do anything significant. I couldn't afford a set of oil paint, and when I finally bought one I couldn't buy a canvas. Today I could afford both but my art has left me.

Still today I dream to visit VAST, I slow my car when I pass by their Chubachu Studio just to see what is inside but a certain feeling of guilt won't allow me to pull over and walk into the studio. I have known and seen the great founder of VAST Asha Karma for years and I have huge admiration for the man. I just wish I had gone to him, I know he would have made me an artist. I wish I had known VAST is for anyone who loves art. Perhaps being an artist was never painted on me.

Asha Karma & VAST

Well that was my story but yours shouldn't be like mine. I have asked VAST artists and lovers about the formalities of visiting VAST and there is none. You can walk in just like that and if you wish you could spend hours painting there under the guidance of professional artists. If you have your art works you could take there and hang them among their works to be sold. It's a haven for artists.

So Dear Readers, if you have an artist in you, among your friends or in your family who wants to take art seriously in life take them to VAST. It keeps its door open to everybody. I am going there in December for sure, I am not too old begin again. 

iSherig 2018

Today my team presented the final draft of ICT Master Plan 2018, which we branded as iSherig, to the Education minister, Secretary, Directors, and heads of all the relevant organizations including private sector. We have worked on it for the last four months and have scanned throught three round table meetings. The feedback on the final draft will be further discussed and the Report will be published by mid December 2013.

The following is an illustration of what we are hoping to achieve by the end of first five years of implementation of iSherig, i.e. 2018. I hope to share some more details on iSherig in near future.

iSherig 2018

God Don't Need No Money

The Buddha and his Buddhism I know about and I believe in doesn't talk about money, it doesn't talk about buying blessing with money, it doesn't talk about greed for blessing, it doesn't talk about blind faith, and it doesn't talk about cleansing of sin just by bathing, offering or praying. It is all about selfless sacrifices we make for others, freeing from greed and attachment, and contentment with what we have. But looks like we have made Buddha into a business model.

I am not a faithless man but what is happening in Thimphu at RAPA hall is a religious circus where they make mockery of holy relics, which they know is a magical commerce. When religion opens a shop, there is no need for advertisement and nobody bargains. About 16,000 people kept aside their sleep and hunger to see the relics and throw in their money with prayers and wishes.

Image from BBS.bt

When I look at the wild crowd of pilgrims there I see greed, greed for blessing. Everybody wants to selfishly get in the front and everybody wants to be blessed first and more. They throw in money as if blessing is up for sale, and bigger the amount they throw more satisfaction they get with the selfish feeling that they will be blessed more.

On the other hand, there was Health Walk organised to raise money for Health Trust Fund, which is the money that will sustain our free health service but how many of us contributed? How many of us contributed without criticizing the move as political stunt? Our country is in difficult economic state and if there is anybody who needs money at this time its our country, not God, God don't need money.

Image from Kuensel

Rupee shortage has been bothering us since last year, which hugely inflated food prices and also was the very cause of vehicle import ban. In such times we have to put in collective effort to reduce rupee expenditure to stabilize the balance of trade but the millions of ngultrum we collectively threw at RAPA hall in the name of God will be converted to rupee and flown back to India on top of the huge fee we paid them to bring the relics to Bhutan. God didn't take the money, it was taken to India.

When will we understand that God is impartial; God won't bless those who came there more than those who didn't come, and those who paid more than those who paid less. When you will understand that you cannot bribe god for blessing, of all the things in the world god don't need money.

The Youngest Bhutanese Blogger

How young do you think will be the age of the youngest Bhutanese Blogger?
Would you believe if I told you he is a 10 year old boy in Thimphu? Well you have to.
Singye Namgay is the youngest blogger I know in Bhutan and perhaps the most unbelievable. At his age I couldn't write a sentence in English correctly and this boy is reviewing books, movies, TV series ... with utmost spontaneity and brutal innocence.
Reading his article is like listening to an adult native English speaker, with soothing transacting from sentence to another and not to mention his great vocabularies, some of which aren't yet in my dictionary. Everytime I open his blog (www.singye.bt) I get goosebumps and I can't help wonder what substance this little soul is made of.
Let me not reduce his worth with my words, his own words will show you his true worth. Visit his blog by following the link above or by clicking on the picture below, and remember I am not responsible for what happens to you on his blog ;)

Singye's Blog 

Shearee Square

Shearee Square is bravely one of the only kind of Shopping Mall in Thimphu and entire Bhutan. When it open a year ago the huge glass structure with automatic door had bigger surprise inside- the elevator  and escalator. Suddenly Bhutan was taken into the future. It seemed like a whole new way of doing business in the capital city of Bhutan.

The Super Shopping Mall

But after a year the big dream failed to wake fully. The glamorous promise remained and reasons are anyone's guess. But surely it has done a huge service to the timid country:

It's now the informal training center for Bhutanese who are due to travelling abroad to practice how to use escalator and it also disney land for Bhutanese to experience escalator and elevator without having to travel outside.