My Stepfather

(Good people in my life-II)

“Does your stepfather treat you well?”

“You should hit him on the head when he is asleep.”

“Why don’t you go and live with your ani?”

Some people in my village diligently let me know that the man in my family was not my father, and that he would treat me bad. I was only over three years old to understand anything but they made me into a suspicious little boy. It was their usual rustic way of having fun; teaching me all the tricks to challenge my stepfather.

I would happily report to them, “He is scared of me.” Because my stepfather wouldn’t hurt a fly I really thought he was rather scared of me. I wish they had taught something good, or just nothing at all, so I would have thought he was my father or at least as someone who wouldn’t hurt me. I regret having never called him apa. I didn’t even call him aku. I would call him by his name until I was much older.

His real name was Phub Tshewang, which only our grandmother fancied, rest called him Aatsho. A serious infection in his childhood had left him limping. He was a natural introvert who mostly had nothing to say. But he had another dimension to him through which he was capable of expressing himself; he was a man of many skills.

He was homeschooled by his tyrant father who taught him religious scriptures, tailoring, carpentry, and the art of making torma. This set of skills made him one of the most sort-after persons in the village. Perhaps he must have been the only person in the village with such versatility, a man who was useful across all seasons.

Though his earnings kept us well fed in the village, we have had difficult times meeting my school expenses when I grew up enough to need a pair of leather shoes and sports shoes simultaneously. In village we all wore those greenish Chinese canvas shoes, which came for Nu.120, but he understood I couldn’t take those to school. One evening he returned from the town with a pair of sport shoes for me worth Nu.700. It broke my heart, because that was a lot of money in the village and I knew how hard he toiled to save so much, but those were the moment that helped me become a responsible youth. I gingerly wore the shoes for many years.

When I reached high school he started communicated with me more, more than to anybody in his entire life. One evening when he didn’t return from woods, we were so worried at home. We had even planned to go searching for him if only we knew which direction he went to because he wouldn’t tell anyone. He didn’t need company. After dark when he finally returned appearing so casual and took his place near the fire, my mother shouted at him for not informing us about the late arrival. He gave a few words explanation. After she went to bed he quietly called me and showed me his leg. He was in extreme pain. His axe slipped of a log and hit his already limping leg and left a deep gaping wound. He lost much blood. Though freaked out, I carefully nursed his wound and put him to bed. He told to keep it between us. Since then there were lots of things that were kept between just the two of us.

When I had my first girlfriend I showed him her picture and told him everything about her but he laughed at the picture and told me she looked like a sick horse because she was thin and fair. He rather had another girl on his mind for me, a huge wrestler like girl in the neighbourhood. I laughed at his choice too. We were gradually beginning to understand each other.

But he never let me or my brothers touch his tools. He didn’t pass down any of his arts to us. He never wanted us to learn his arts and live his life. He always told us that life would be easier if we rather went to school and used books as our tools. All three sons in the family grew without any of his skills, but his bigger plan worked. We all completed our schooling.

When I was in college first year he came to meet me with some stuff my mother had sent. He had sent a boy to call me behind the college building, thinking I would be embarrassed if he came limping in front of my friends. His shyness and being a loner must have been because of his disability. But I couldn’t be bothered; I took him around and show him my college. I saw pride beaming in his eyes as he scanned the Dzong-like structure of my college.

One of the first things I was going to do after I began earning was to take my stepfather for treatment and give him the comfort of walking without having to limp and wear any kind of shoes. But just one year short of my graduation he passed away. He must have suffered for a long time but he never disclosed it to my mother, if only I was around he would have told me and I would have taken him to hospital on time. He rather went to his mother’s place and died peacefully. More than ten years have passed since but I still couldn’t fully overcome his death. I live the regrets that he never truly knew how I felt about him, I had only begun to open up with him and he left. 

A few years after his death I became a stepfather myself and that’s when I found a new purpose in life and that’s when I found him again in my stepson. Over the years I realised that the best thing my stepfather taught me was the delicate art of being a good stepfather. Jigme was a much better stepson than I had ever been; he knew I was his stepfather yet called me dad. Our affection flowed naturally; stepson to stepson.

Some good people never cease to love you and guide you, not even after their death. 

Surprise Gift from my Wife

My wife Kezang said she had a surprise gift for my birthday last June. Now that was a surprise in itself. It got be nervous because she wasn’t known for any kind of surprises, in fact she hated surprises.

I assumed she was going to do something romantic for once. If she woke me up on my birthday and gave me a flower then I would be surprised because that was the last thing she would do. She’s very romance shy woman, who thinks what happens in movies and books should remain there.

Anyway, my birthday came and went uneventfully, as usual, without any surprise whatsoever. I didn’t show any obvious sign of disappointment but deep down I was upset that she forgot her surprise gift. Few days passed and when she never mentioned about it I had to bring it up.

Me: Where is your ‘surprise gift’?

Kezang: I already gave you, you didn’t notice?

Me: No, is it kind of invisible?

Kezang: Sort of, it was something visible that became invisible.

Me: Come on, just say you forgot it.

Kezang: No, I gifted you your wife’s health!

Me: What do you mean?

Kezang: I quit smoking since your birthday!

Kezang has been smoking even before we met. In between she quit once for three years, from the time she was expecting our daughter till she stopped breastfeeding. But such was a smoker’s urge, only few days after she stopped breastfeeding she just restarted smoking. In three years her urge didn’t die. Those three years were the biggest sacrifice the mother in her had done for her child.

I tried everything I could to make her quit but she just couldn’t. I had blackmailed her, scared her, sweet-talked her, read articles, share inspiring pictures, showed YouTube videos, and even bought substitutes like nicotine chewing gums. She would agree to every word I said but she just couldn’t give up.

I told her that we had to grow old together and see our children grow. I even reminded her of how her skin rejuvenated and glowed when she stopped smoking for three years. I always told her that she was committing a gradual suicide and planning to leave us alone helplessly.

I couldn’t imagine a life without her and she was smoking her life away slowly each day. Soon I began to feel that if it was so much part of her I mustn’t take it away from her, though both of us knew we would have a wonderful life without smoking. She was fighting her own losing battle against it.

But just when I felt so hopeless my unromantic wife gifting me the most romantic gift ever. She has made her choice before it’s late, when the time is right, where there is still enough strength left in our age to rebuild our health. It’s been four months since she quit and now she tells me that her urge is gone completely.

It was indeed the biggest surprise gift ever and I wish this happened to all the couples that are so much in love and have the longing to grow old together. 

The Darkest June

The cover of The Darkest June with the picture of Wangdue Dzong on fire was enough to fascinate me. I wondered how could anybody build a story around June 2012 Wangdue Dzong fire but again it was Dasho Karma Tenzin Yongba, who could be trusted to do something strangely bold. Having served in the police force all his life crime story was his love story. His first novel The Restless Relic and collection of short stories Barnyard Murders were testimony to his mastery in the genre.  

Wangdue Dzong is a subject so close to my heart because I have begun my career in the shadow of that majestic Dzong and have seen it every day for six years until one day I saw it being razed down to the ground. I wrote about it in iWitness. I have written many more stories on the Dzong during my seven years in Bajothang. Therefore I have a special interest in anything that's about Wangdue Dzong.

As seen from where I stood on June 24, 2012

The official story stated that the fire was caused by an electric short circuit. The short circuit excuses helped solve many fire disaster cases, and Wangdue Dzong's was no exception. Beyond the official story, we looked no further because we took it as a sign of a fateful time that had come. Nothing could have stopped. No human was held responsible.

Book Cover from BOOKNESE

In The Darkest June Author Karma Tenzin has woven a thrilling conspiracy around the June 2012 Fire. Two parallel stories begin in 1964, one in France and the other in Trongsa, and end in Wangdue in June 2012 with the fire. Professor JD has visited Wangdue Dzong two years before Jambay sees it on his maiden journey en route Trongsa to Thimphu. He sees a dream of Wangdue Dzong engulfed in an inferno. The bad dream that he has that night under the tree in Wangdue haunts him for the rest of his life. 

Professor JD is found dead in his apartment only days before his journey back to Bhutan. He was going to return the diamond he discovered in the rock sample he stole from Wangdue Dzong two years ago to the government of Bhutan. His death puts the case to a long slumber until his granddaughter tries to connect the dots and finds the key to the locker where her grandfather has kept the papers and the diamond. 

Through Jambay's journey in Bhutan, the author subtly takes us on a nostalgic ride into our past; beginning of towns and roads in the country. Jambay meets a nice Tibetan couple who gives him shelter in his initial days in Thimphu but his affair with the young wife makes him leave Thimphu. In Phuntsholing he makes a humble beginning with a warm Sherpa family and goes on to become one of the top businessmen. 

He marries into the same Sherpa family with their niece. Later his daughter helps him in his travel business. That's when the two worlds meet. Though Professor JD's granddaughter takes her share and drops her interest in the rock, his partners pursue their search for the origin of the rock in Wangdue. They book their many tours through Jambay's company. His unsuspecting daughter leads the final tour in June 2012.

In 29 short chapters the book gives you doses of love, lust, family tale, wealth, crime,... and within a few hours, you would be on the last page wondering if Wangdue Dzong fire was really caused by a short circuit. It gives wings to your own imaginations. You would find yourself playing with even more complex conspiracy theories as if to justify the loss of a great national monument.

I have carefully avoided the details of the story to reserve the true charm and I must tell you not to judge the book by its substandard cover design. The book truly deserves a better cover and title font. And before I forget, please be warned that it's a work of fiction. 

The book is available on BOOKNESE

Why is it Between Chamkhar Chhu and Zhemgang?

I have consciously signed the petition "Keep Chamkhar Chhu Free-Flowing" initiated by Bhutan's alpha professional photographer Aue Yeshey Dorji and shared it on my Facebook wall. But I didn't know my post was immediately going to become a platform for a very serious debate. It gave me deep insight into both side of the argument. However, I when I signed the petition for saving Chamkhar Chhu I wasn't against development in Zhemgang. I felt sorry that the last river had to be the very river flowing through Zhemgang.

It's evident that most people in Zhemgang have been betting on Chamkhar Chhu project to change the course of their lives and it's obvious for them to feel offended when people who don't have to live their lives sign a petition against their dreams. A high school friend from Kheng, Pema Letho summarised Zhemgang in few lines to put forth his point on why the project should happen;

Zhemgang has the highest poverty rate among all the districts, it has highest number of school drop outs, highest infant and maternal deaths, lowest safe drinking water coverage, lowest farm road coverage, lowest electricity supply coverage, lowest primary school enrolment...

And their representative, honourable Member of Parliament, Lekey Dorji joined the debate and made his stand clear;

I have personally been pushing for Chamkharchhu hydropower project because it could be a game changer for the poor people of Kheng. Upon the resolution of the Dzongkhag Tshogdu, I moved a motion in the NA to expedite the implementation of this project. I have also been meeting the minister for economic affairs and the senior officials of the Ministry as well as DGPC to request early implementation of the project because the people of Zhemgang want it. The project promises to open up remote and rural areas of Kheng to mainstream economy and people are excited about the project. I appeal to all those people who have signed or plan to sign to first understand the project. My stand has always been clear, if what you do is going to benefit our poor people deprived of all amenities in the villages, please support the petition. Otherwise, please support this project which will open up whole of the remote Kheng and provide them better economic opportunities.

While I still like to believe in the myth that hydropower project will some day stand on its own feet and fix the damage it has cause to the national economy, I have genuine doubts on it holding promise for rural prosperity, which social activist, journalist, and educationist, Aue Dorji Wangchuk shared from his experience;

Do not fall under illusion that Chamkhar Chu project will pull Kheng out of the current state. None of the villages in Chukha dzongkhag has enriched through Tala or Chukha Project. Ask our MPs from Chukha who are now more attuned to the plights of our local people. I have worked in Chukha Project (1982) when it was being constructed. We are treated worse than Indian labourers. Similarly, I have covered the entire project phase of Tala when I was in BBS from 2000 to 2005. Unfortunately I was never allowed to go deeper into the project. Similarly I have been working in three gewogs of lower Wangdue - Athang, Daga and Gaselo as volunteer for Tarayana and villagers there have not been able to sell even a bunch of fruits to the four mega projects.

I had this conversation with my dear friend from Kheng, Nawang Phuntsho, personally last month, and his expectations were practical modest when he said that "The development activities need not come directly to people's doorstep, but infrastructures like road will come by default. Kheng rig nam sum have been neglected and kept in the darkness for a while now." He shared that a 30 Km road in Zhemgang tool seventeen years to build, and he was very serious when he added that even a dung beetle could have covered the distance in so many years.

At this point I was intrigued as to why the development in Zhemgang has to be a byproduct of a project, shouldn't it be the right of people of Kheng to demand from the government? Are roads in all other Dzongkhags built because of the projects? Since when did development of infrastructure in a Dzongkhag become hydro project bait? If Zhemgang was treated at par with the rest of the Dzongkhags from early on would they ask for the project, having seen what happened in Punatshangchhu? I feel that Dasho Lekey Dorji should ask for roads and other infrastructures without strings attached and leave the hydropower project mess aside for the sake of larger things at stake.

Aue Yeshey Dorji in his article 'The Dark Side of Hydropower Projects' revealed the scary facts and sad realities that would break many of the popular myths. He concluded by stating why he started the petition;

...my cause is still not that of environment because I know that when you have a gaping hole in your tummy, environment will not fill it. My cause is still the economic devastation that we are already suffering as a result of these hydro-power projects that have gone horribly wrong! 

My cause is still about keeping at least one of our rivers free flowing - for the cause of our future generations. My cause is about bequeathing that river to the name of a giant of a man whose private angst at the destruction of the environment is well known.

Article 5.4 of the Constitution of Bhutan states that, “Parliament may enact environmental legislation to ensure sustainable use of natural resources and maintain intergenerational equity and reaffirm the sovereign rights of the State over its own biological resources.”

"Intergenerational Equity" means not exploiting every river during our time, and "the sovereign right of the State over its own biological resources" means not letting a foreign force decide for us. If it was really about electricity and not about invading our waters then why don't we dam the Punatshangchhu two more times? After all our rivers are mostly fed by rain, which means the more southward we take our dams more the water. Why exploit another river?

When I signed the petition it was never about the choice between Chamkhar Chhu over Zhemgang, it was about our Country. Therefore I urge all the people who signed the petition to raise your voice for development in Zhemgang too. Zhemgang should get its fair share of development with or without any project. It will only be fair if you fight for the people of Zhemgang as you fight for the river.

Natural Artist Sangay Tshering

I saw a few wooden showpieces at my wife's cousin's. I assumed they were imported souvenirs and didn't even spare another glance. Only this weekend, on my second visit, upon seeing a half finished woodwork on his bedside I realised it was his own artworks. Knowing that I was interested he showed me endless pieces of works he had done over the year.

Sangay Tshering didn't have any form of training in art and design. He had a natural fascination for collecting differently-shaped wood pieces and converting them into artworks without altering the original form of the wood. I don't know if his form of art has a specific name; it's like partnering with the natural forces to create art.

Lovemaking 

Any piece of wood with a strange shape, be it roots, trunk, branches or driftwoods, would become Sangay's canvas. He would observe the natural shape of the wood and simply polish out the subtle natural art into a distinct form. He has even experimented with bones, horn and fish skull. He has worked with pieces as small as a finger to as large as a bull. He could pick a huge piece of driftwood and convert that into a state of art writing table or TV stand, he has done that for friends.

Following are some of his artworks:

"Education is the most powerful weapon"

A Mask Dancer

Divine Boot, done from half wood and half bone

Conch 

The Lady

"Say no to drugs"

 Here is the humble artist who doesn't even consider himself as an artist. Sangay Tshering has done hundreds of pieces of artworks and left them in places where he worked. He has never considered selling his artworks or doing an exhibition, in fact he hasn't signed his name on any of his pieces. He was just doing it for the sake of doing it, like a daily ritual without any ambition.

The Humble Artist Sangay Tshering

But I feel his unique talent deserves to be showcased so that his daily ritual could tell tales and inspire people and even draw new artists in his form of art. If you find his works special help me in telling him that he is a great artist. He can work on larger than life art pieces for hotels and art collectors, just dare him!

The First Blogger Conference

The Blogger Conference finally happened, yes formally on August 30, 2015. It was covered by BBS and Kuensel, you see it had to be formal to be covered. We have had several Bloggers' Meets in the past, once we had 35 people attending but since it was very informal it seemed like it didn't happen. But those were the founding moments, we drafted and polished the ideas. Lucky for us we had designer, artist, event manager, everyone among us who were willing to do everything for the evolving group we called Community of Bhutan Bloggers. 

Now that we have taken the first unsure step and enjoyed it, we are looking forward to many events. My friend Nawang Phuntsho gave the opening remark and managed the conference. First, we launched the mobile app we promised, in very casual way as I liked it to be. Not many realised we actually launched it. Thanks to my friend and friend to Bhutan, Boaz for delivering it, just like that. Anyone else would have taken fortunes out of this penniless community. 

We had four speakers who were given to speak for half an hour each, but they all overshot their time. But because of the variety in the topics we enjoyed each minute of their talks. Opening speaker Riku Dhan Subba took us on a journey back to his rural roots. His father owned the first radio in the village  and soon the radio brought his parents together and he was born under a tree... it was inspiring to listen to a young man who would visit his village in Chuzaygang five times a year, walking the talk.

Riku

Second speaker, Member of Parliament in the National Council from Gasa Dzongkhag, Dasho Sangay Khandu educated the bloggers on the functions of the parliament, unique powers of the two houses, laws and bylaws of the parliament, roles of MPs, parliamentary committees, decision-making in the parliament, quorum of decision, voting, bills, legislative cycle, etc that each blogger must be informed.

MP, Dasho Sangay Khandu

Third Speaker, Ugyen Lhendup amazed us with his research findings on Poverty and Inequality in Bhutan. Besides igniting lots of discussion on the subject he also made us rethink on a very important historical date, i.e. The First Five Year Plan, which we all know, was initiated in 1961 but Ugyen had found documents to prove that it actually began in 1953.

Ugyen Lhendup

The fourth speaker, Tshering Dolkar led us through her humble writing journey which began with scribbling in random papers to publishing in Kuensel's literary corner. Hers was a pure joy of writing without any desire to publish. He blog soon gave her a newer platform to nurture her passion for writing. She was almost flying when she read her smooth poems, written in formats that are Japanese, Korean and Chinese.

Tshering Dolkar 

The conference was planned to last till 1pm in the afternoon so I had requested for only one round of refreshment from our host Namseling Boutique Hotel but soon we realised our blunder and shamelessly asked requested for another round of refreshment. It was 3pm when we finally forced ourselves to end the conference and go looking for lunch. Our host hotel was ready to sponsor us lunch had we informed them earlier but it was our first time and we made a big miscalculation. 30 people attended the conference but eight of them had disappeared by the time we lined up for the photo session.

The organising team Nawang Phuntsho, Tharchen, Rekha Monger, Nima Dorji, Che Dorji and I would like to thank iBest Institution and Namseling Boutique Hotel for the unconditional support provided to the underdog community. We were overwhelmed by the turnout and the energy they brought along. We are encouraged to go bigger with he next conference... 

Photo Courtesy: Nima Dorji (All four speakers) and Ugyen Lhendup (Group Picture)

Sanja Dema's Husband

The context of this post is the communal joke that was widely circulated on the badly abused social media platform WeChat. Yes WeChat has been already used as the Launchpad for three worst things to happen in Bhutanese social media; leaking private movie clips, spreading hoax, and sharing communal joke. All resulted in social disharmony that is very new to Bhutan.

Well, the joke was a voice recording of two men allegedly from Haa talking about a woman named Sanja Dem who married a guy from eastern Bhutan. Their conversation roughly translates to,

“Sanja Dem is married!”

“Really, who is the man?”

“He is a Sharchop.”

“O’ then he will steal nyah.”

I am from Haa and I know the men whose voice were recorded weren’t from Haa, as is evident from the fake accent they used. They were making fun of our language. Worse still, they impersonated us to insult Sharchops by calling them thieves. With all my sense of humor I am trying to laugh at the joke but somehow the intention in this joke seems seriously wrong.

I heard the joke before and back then Sanja Dem’s husband wasn’t a sharchop, he was a gatey (ex-monk) but the character in the joke was suddenly changed to a shashop to supposedly do maximum damage. This seemingly dry joke could lead to social disharmony and therefore such communal jokes of disastrous potential should be stopped right away.

We must appreciate our unity as harmonious little society. Many countries suffered because of communal division leading to mistrust among people, igniting riots and starting civil wars. We need not learn the lesson in a hard way; history is a good teacher. We should not take our harmony for granted just because we didn't earn it ourselves. It's the greatest gift of the Wangchuck dynasty that we must honour.

“Such clips are communal in nature and much more severe than the circulation of pornographic materials, We can book them under the National Security Act as its highly objectionable.” - Police Chief, Brigadier Kipchu Namgyal, in Kuensel 

Life is too Short to Wait for an Abusive Husband to Change

Yesterday by the time I reached home I was ready for a nap because it was a long day at the training centre followed by the long walk back home but I saw my neighbour has taken all their furniture out. I thought the young couple was moving out. Upon inquiry I found out that only the wife was moving out. It sent a chill down my spine because just there months ago I saw them happily moving in together.

She reported that she was assaulted many times, she was almost crying when she said, "Yesterday, he nearly killed me. I cried for help, didn't you hear me?" She showed her bruised body. We sincere apologised for being such a bad neighbour. We assumed that as a newly wed couple they would still be making love. Literally. We misunderstood those late night screams and banging on the wall.

My wife and I uncomfortably helped the wife load her stuff on the pickup along with the three individuals who were related to the young woman. And without a second thought we prepared refreshment for them. 

As I was serving them refreshment I couldn't help saying this to the wife, "We are sorry for not being there to celebrate your marriage but at least we are happy to be here helping you when you chose your freedom out of the abusive relationship." My wife signalled at me to shut up but I went on, "Why didn't you report to the police?" I just wanted the man to hear it. He was actually a good looking man who had a meek smile perpetually fixed on his lips, quite a contrast to his violent nature.

I didn't know who was right or who was wrong, I didn't even ask why they fought at all. The fact that the man has assaulted the woman broke my heart. Who the hell will protect her if the very man on her bed is assaulting her? I could never understand how one could abuse the very person one has chosen out of everybody on earth.

But I was throughly awed by the young woman's courage to walk out of the abusive relationship right away. I have known many women who hung onto their marriages hoping their men would change but the truth is if you don't walk out on the first slap you are just waiting for the next hundred slaps. It's normal to fight in relationships but violence should never be tolerated. Life is too short to wait for an abusive husband to change and it's too personal to worry about public opinions. 

Disclaimer: This post is based on an incident and therefore the focus is on husband being abusive but it can be the other way round too, though not discussed here. 

Following is a story from Miguelon Dell Call about a woman who hung on to her abusive husband. It's widely shared on Facebook.

She's got flowers!

It wasn't her birthday or any other special day.They had their first fight, and he said many cruel things that really hurt her.She knows that he is sorry and that he would not say those things again, because he sent her flowers.

She received flowers again!It was not for their anniversary or any other special day.Last night, he pushed her against a wall and started to choke her.It seemed like a nightmare, she couldn't believe it was real.
When she woke the next morning her body was painful and bruised.
She knows that he must be sorry, because he sent her flowers to forgive.

She received flowers yet again!And this was not mother's day or any other special day.Once again, he has beaten her, it was much more violent than other times.
If she leaves, what would she do?How would she care for her children?
And financial problems?She is afraid of him, but is scared to go.
And she knows that he must be sorry because, as usual, he sent her flowers to forgive.

Today, was a very special day!
She have received piles of bouquets of flowers from all those who knew her and who loved her!It was her funeral.
Last night, he finally killed her. He beat her to death.
If only She had found enough courage to leave,
She would have not received so many flowers today!

My Favourite Mushroom

I couldn't gather the english name of my favourite mushroom despite trying two very authentic mushroom websites. In Haa we call it Chenpo Shamo, literally translating to Liver Mushroom. The local name apparently is derived from the size, color and taste because the mushroom looks and taste like one. However it has sharp odour, which many people won't find pleasant. Perhaps that's why it's not very popular though it's said to have high medicinal values. 

If you are an amateur mushroom picker you wouldn't spare a second glance at it because it's huge, ugly and stinky but if I saw it I would dance three time in extreme joy. 

Chenpo Shamo from Home

My love for this mushroom is inherited from my mother among many. When I go home in summers her grandest way of welcoming me is by keeping stock of this mushroom. Nice neighbours would bring along some when they get it knowing how much we love it. 

This summer my mother wasn't very lucky with this mushroom but she has managed to barter two pieces with the neighbour and sent it to me. It was packed in a carton box and as I opened it the scent filled my room. It thrilled me. It was kind of scent that evoked so many memories from village, like certain music does. Recently my cousin visited me from village and even she brought me few pieces. I have sliced it and sun dried it for future consumption. Because this mushroom comes back alive when soaked in water. 

There are various recipes you can try with this mushroom but nothing beats ezay. 
Roast the mushroom lightly, 
Slice it into thin pieces, 
Add chilli powder and finish it with few pinches of thingay. 

If that bitterish liverly taste don't knock you down, tell me! 

Chenpo Shamo Ezay

Earthquake Hoax

མིང་ངན་གྱིས་ཡུལ་དཀྲོགས།། བྱ་ངན་གྱིས་གདངས་དཀྲོགས།།

My mother and I were in constant conversation over the phone debating on the hoaxed earthquake. She heard that it was going to be bigger than the Nepal earthquake and since our house was in bad shape from the last earthquake she has decided to abandon it and sleep in the kitchen garden instead. She saw the people in neighbouring villages pitching tents in their fields. The hoax has created such mass panic in rural areas. 

I told my mother that if His Holiness the Je Khenpo really had a vision of such a natural calamity befalling his people, more than anybody, his compassionate self would inform the nation and not some fool on WeChat.
I asked her, "Would the government leave us in the dark instead of evacuating us to safety?"
"Would I let you stay in that unsafe house all by yourself?" 
"How could you believe some random people and not me?" 
It was hard but I could convince her like I have done several times in the past. This wasn't the first wave of fear that swept across my village

The magnitude of fear and panic the hoax has created among our rural population is beyond forgivable limit. It has gone deep into the simple lives of people and disturb their peace. What do people get from doing this? Who are they? It cannot be one person but a chain of ignorant people who believed in it themselves and then shared their fear. It is a very serious offence and I hope theses people will be traced and punished. 

And more than anything we need to find a permanent solution to this repetitive problem of mass panic created by hoax, because if a salt shortage hoax could cause market to inflate salt price and people to hoard salt then anything is possible. 

The mobile app WeChat, which took internet access to rural population has now become a platform for newer evils, from sharing porn to racial jokes to hoax. With its ease of use and reach new hoaxes can do massive damage. What will be the next bad thing people will do on this platform?