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.

My WAB Dream

Recently we have started a Facebook group following our idea of building the Writers Association of Bhutan. Good responds we received inspired us to begin a blog. With this two we are in search of people who love writing, who can inspire us with their passion and who can lead us through our dream of having a formal association.

The blog has just begun and we have five writers so far, we are looking for interested writers to come forward and be our part. It's a long dream and just daring is enough right now.

I wanted to share my dream of WAB with my readers here, but I have it already posted on the WAB blog and therefore I urge you to go there once and see if you can help us.

My WAB Dream

Well I am still waiting for my writers to break the ground but looks like they are all looking for something substantial to start with, probably they think this is not for their casual writings. But I must clarify that this is indeed the place for anything and everything you have on your mind. Until you decided what to write let me give my piece of mind about the association.

I know it will take time but I am just happy that it has begun. When we first discussed the Idea of the association the first thing that came to my mind was promotion of writers and assisting them with their publication. Where will the money come from? We will figure that out, which is why we are grouping. Writing is one thing and struggling to get it publish is another which puts an end to the first one. Many of us might have been victims ourselves. ...

Read the rest on http://writersassociationofbhutan.blogspot.com/

ReBlog: Leave Applications

I know there are some articles I am yet to write but forgive me I forgot them all. I sat here hundreds of times to write something but suddenly I feel empty. So, until I get rid of this block I would like to make some of you laugh the way I did when I read this email from Wangchuk Bidha:

A GNM from JDWNRH: Applied for leave as follows:

"Since I have to go to my village to sell my land along with my wife , please sanction me one-week leave." 

_______________________________________

This is from a Primary Teacher-a keralite: who was performing the "mundan" ceremony of his 10 year old son:

"as I want to shave my son's head , please leave me for two days.."

________________________________________

Another gem from NEC-Thimphu, Leave-letter from an employee who was performing his daughter's wedding:

"as I am marrying my daughter , please grant a week's leave.."

________________________________________

From Administration section of MoHCA:

"As my mother-in-law has expired and I am only one responsible for it , please grant me 10 days leave."

________________________________________

Another employee from BBSC applied for half day leave as follows:

"Since I've to go to the cremation ground at 10 o-clock and I may not return , please grant me half day casual leave"

________________________________________

An incident of a leave letter:

"I am suffering from fever , please declare one-day holiday."

________________________________________

A leave letter to the headmaster:

"As I am studying in this school I am suffering from headache. I request you to leave me today"

________________________________________

Another leave letter written to the headmaster:

"As my headache is paining , please grant me leave for the day."

________________________________________

Covering note:

"I am enclosed herewith..."

________________________________________

An official rely from MoLHR to a businessman:

"Dear Sir: with reference to the above , please refer to my below..."

________________________________________

Actual letter written for application of leave by an MP (DPT):

"My wife is suffering from sickness and as I am her only husband at home I may be granted leave".

_______________________________________

Letter writing by my son:-

"I am well here and hope you are also in the same well."

_______________________________________

A perspective candidate's job application:

"This has reference to your advertisement calling for a ' Typist and an Accountant - Male or Female'... As I am both(!! )for the past several years and I can handle both with good experience , I am applying for the post.

How was it? I don't know whose brain is behind this piece... whom ever it may concern, thank you for the laughter

Bangkok Disappointed Me...

I wasn't happy when I knew we were flying straight to Singapore without a day halt in Bangkok. I heard of the grourious city from every Bhutanese who has ever been there and I was only seeing it from the airport. During my week long stay in Singapore I was dreaming of the day I will land in Bangkok. I wanted to see the city for myself, I wanted to go shopping, explore the magnificent streets and malls, meet angel like girls, go to the beach and have a wonderful night in Bangkok after the sleepless week in Singapore!

And finally the day came, we were flying to Bangkok and this time we have a day to stay there. I envied Kuenga who had already extended her stay in Bangkok by a few days more. She had her brother studying there. Kuenga is a teacher from Drukgyel, who was among the 14 other teachers on the trip.

My excitement started dying the moment we walked out of the terminal, we had to rush for taxi under the intense heat. We had to repeat out address to the driver for eternity and finally he took us to a wrong place. The sights along the long road to our hotel gave me an impression of indian road along phuntsholing samtse highway. Damn, one piece of dust got into my eye and that bugged me the whole afternoon. My eye was conditioned to amazingly dust free Singapore already and it forgot its natural reflex.

We entered the city and I wondered if that was the same Bangkok people talk about. It was no better then Jaigong, messy, overcrowded and disorganized. I already wanted to leave. but there was more to experience when we finally got to the right address. Kuenga's brother had kindly booked us in Rangnam Apartment, a very popular place for Bhutanese visitors.

It was a nine-storeyed building with an almost broken lift. Our room has a toilet attached and a bed with mattress, and also a gigantic AC hanging over the bed, which may fall anytime. When it is put on it sounds like car, but thanks to it we were spared from being cooked. Apartments are by default this way, we should be occupying it like we rent houses. I don't know why we didn't go for a hotel instead. And guess what, this is where our Bangkok-goers spend their vacation, I would prefer my hostel in high school.

No taxi would take us to Puntip Plaza, because it happened to be too close and we had to walk. By now 'we' meant only three of us. Rest were gone. Three of us were hungry and tired but we couldn't find a place to sit. Roads are impossible to cross with heavy traffic. If we didn't find the rest of them soon we may even lose our way back to the appartment. We ask everyman on the road for direction but they all sounded like dumb. God even students can't speak english.

We got there finally and caught up with our friends but by then the whole charm of shopping was gone. I had plenty of electronics on my shopping list but people come from every corner of the mall with pronographic CD and ask us to buy and after a while I forgot everything.

In the midst of confusion two of us were singeled out and confronted by a tourist who wanted to know about Bhutan. He wanted to see our currency and it's value. God, later we knew that everybody in our group was awear of this except the two of us. The tourist disappeared into the crowd after fiddling with out purse. My friend checked his purse later to find $300 are missing. From that moment I hated every tourist I met. I didn't want to be kind to any stranger anymore.

Kuenga had planned out our shopping places, she has already been here several times. She was going to take us to three different places, which probably would be all that can be possible. But the tuktuk drivers are one hell of people. They want to take us to their choice of place first, upon us disagreeing with them we landed up paying them so much.

Only Big C cheered me up later in the evening. It was a grand shopping mall with AC and without anybody to bother. I did a lot of shopping for my daughter and wife, there can't be a better palce than this. Thanks to Kuenga and her brother who made sure we were not lost again, who took charge of our group and gave us time to rest and shop.

rest too be written...soon...and correction in process.... 

Singapore Entry: Bigger than Dream

I need some time to sit and write....wait...

Coffee Maker and the Blogger

I saw my father’s picture only in my high school, I always imagined him. He died in a bus accident when I was one.  But the bigger surprise is that I saw one of my uncles just last summer. I have always known him though. He would send us clothes when my mother visits him during the annual puja in our ancestral home. He has two sons and a daughter- my never-met cousins.

After meeting asha last summer I knew he was a great man. I always thought he was too rich to connect to us anymore, but I was wrong. It’s just that we didn’t meet. He would at times drop at my place for a cup of tea and talk down our bloodline I never knew about.

And last Saturday asha called me up to invite my family to his granddaughter’s birthday. There I saw two of my three cousins for the first time. I was anxious about how to break the ice but luckily my cousin brother Karma happened to be a very comfortable person. 

Just between our handshake and introduction he recognized me, (Do you keep a blog?) He said he follows my blog.  Not long after that I remembered “Karma’s Coffee” in Thimphu. I heard a lot about the shop and the coffee maker “Karma” and there he was talking to me. He was a man who left his job for the love of making coffee, and today he satisfies the taste buds of hundreds of coffee drinker in Thimphu- I am yet to step in for the best cup of coffee…

On the dinner table we were held spellbound by how we were already connected through our interests long before our first union. “The coffee maker and the blogger…” would be an interesting topic to start a short story…

Snowfall in Yangthang

Snowfall in Yangthang has always been a big inspiration. I completed a collection of short story under the title 'Snowfall in Yangthang'. I always wanted a photograph for my cover page; thanks to the New Year eve snowfall and my presence in my village, now I have the best picture for my cover page.

Trying my hands on Photography with inspiration from Yeshey Dorji

My Village Yangthang 

The First light on the virgin Snow

My Wife and Daughter (Just 32 Days old. It's her first morning in Yangthang and her first snowfall experience)

My Daughter's Page I

After becoming father washing diapers became more important than blogging, in case some of you wonder why I didn't write for sometime. My daughter doesn't have a name yet; I wanted to call her Deki Tshomo, but her mother thinks Deki is not a lucky name (she happened to see that in life) she rather choses Ninzey Tshomo and today my mother registered her in census as Kezang Choden, since her birth certificate carries no name.

By 9:09 PM today my daughter will be one month old. This first one month she has been a very good girl. She is not too demanding, she rarely cries at night and she gives us an occasional smile. Her good health is our biggest assert and I am grateful to god.

Tomorrow she will go to Yangthang for the first time. She will meet her little Aunty Pema Yangchen and reunite with her grandmother.

The Answer to My Quiz!

I am really surprised you all could pin point the spot. I don't know if Lobxang used his common sense or he actually saw it when he was here. But Tongyal is cheating. Youngten L Tharchen is very specific when he said "below Thinleygang", of course the whole area is Thinleygang but we often associate a town to a place.

And thanks Ma'am Loh but you know Google can't help trace a place in Bhutan. I had to correct many locations on Google Earth. Anyway thanks. It's about 30 km down Dochula to Wangdue.

I can't be Home on Lomba: Guilt of Asha Haap

Nothing is sadder in a Hap’s life than being away from home on Lomba. It falls on the 29^th day of the eleventh month in Bhutanese calendar every year. Yangthang is my home and somehow no place could ever replace it. Life in village was never easy but that didn’t matter. Ages from now nothing in Yangthang will belong to me except memories still I will call it my home. Tonight Haa valley will not sleep. Yangthang will be noisy with gangs of lads wandering houses singing with bags that need to be filled with hoentey.

Hoentey is a simple vegetarian momo-like food. The outer skin is made of buckwheat flour and the inside is either turnip or dried spinach (lom) or both fried in butter with world of species. Nothing in the world beats its taste; I can only imagine it this time though. The big local festival is considered the ushering of New Year locally, however we only have hoentey on the menu, and at times I feel it must be the cheapest festival.

Every Hap consider a year older from the night of Lomba. Strangely my baby will be two years old from tomorrow according to Haps, thought she is just 16 days old; she gets 1 year from the time she spent in the womb and another year for having celebrated a lomba. Thus we always had confusion about our age in school.

The thrill of forming groups and wandering the village in the dark making noises and breaking fences on Lomba nights are highlights in the life of a village lad. It has been over 12 years since I have out grown that age group but the memories come back afresh each year. I have never really grown since then.

I am guilty for leaving my village, my home and my mother for this job of mine, which in its nakedness is nothing but greed for money and status. But I console myself knowing that life must go on and knowing that this is what my mother wants of me. Lomba is but all together a different story, I should be home no matter what, I should be helping my mother in making hoentey and challenging my brothers in eating it… where have I come now? How far have I come from myself? When will I get to be where I want to be and do things I want to do and still be satisfied? Why are we running away from who we are in search of ourselves?

500 KM to Tashigang

Where is this Milestone? It's a notable spot, exactly 500 Km from Tashigang. The winner of my quiz will get...I don't know what I have that I can give you...Forget the prize, give the answer and be satisfied!

Moments in Photograph!

I don't have a picture from my childhood though there was camera then (how do I know there were cameras?) My uncles have huge collection of photograph with my grandfather in them (probably from 70s), I wonder why my mother is not among them during those moments. It seems like there was a family camera but may be I was too ugly to waste a film!

Well that was history. Now I have a digital camera and I do keep photographic record of every important moment in life. And Most of all I am going to click every little moments of my daughter's life; her first bath(ha I have video recorded it and uploaded it on Youtube), first smile, first cry, her first birthday, her first everything...

Someday when she become old enough to comprehend life she would love to revisit her life and live the innocence yet again in her fathers love. For now I have this pictures...

Exam Duty in Thinleygang

Thinleygang is a beautiful place hidden under dull weather these days. It's not very cold like Thimphu and not windy like Wangdue. Am I not lucky to get invigilation duty here? I am luckier still for having just afternoon exams since it's a middle secondary school.


As I sit in a corner and watch the children write their exam I see some restless kids launching their searching eyes onto other's papers and making different faces and signs. What they don't know is that they are invigilated by a vigilant man, who had come through the thicket of such tricks. But they should know that I am not here to spy on them and catch them red-handed and kick them out of exam hall (like many people believe) I am here to make sure that each child gets fair chance to write their exam, I am here to give each child the silence they need to concentrate on their paper, I am here to protect them from any sort of harm while writing their exam, I am here to serve any need they might require (of course not in giving them answers) and I am here to make sure that each of their answer script reaches the marking center. But who appreciates our presence at all?

I am a father!

At 9:09 PM, 29th November 2009, My wife gives birth to my daughter in Bajothang BHU. She is 3 kg heavy with dark black hair, already opening her eyes and suckling her fingers. Thank you god, I am a father now!

In Picture: My daughter's first day among us, her first bath, conducted by her grandmother Gaki, my mother!

This is why I hate exam!

My brother made a mistake of his life. He did study well but that was not just enough. This year he wants to make a difference. He came to me. All I can help is in computer subject. I helped him last year but the distance made it difficult. This year we had two months to sit together and study JavaScript and HTML. I am confident he is more able now.
This morning the two of us walked to the exam room, I was more nervous than him, I was more desirous than he was. Just before they entered the room BBE called our supervisor to tell him that the supplementary candidates need not sit for practical exam. I was shocked; the document for BBE clearly states that they should sit for practical exam and now all of a sudden the rule changes. I call back BBE to listen to this irrational story. I exaplained to them how much effort we have put in this second year to make up for the first mistake. But they say theya re going to take in last years's mark because some exam centers don't have computers to do practical at all.
The man on the phone finally tried to make it short by say, "persuade the kid and let him go"  and at that moment I made my reply, " Sir, the kid happens to be my brother and as much as it hurts him it hurts me twice."

Magazines, Bhutan and Ngawang's Dream

My friend Ngawang Phuntsho has a dream I didn't know about. He dreams of Druk Outlook without waking me up, of course he has the freedom of dreaming alone. Druk Outlook is supposed to be a magazine just as I had a dream of a smaller student’s magazine like the Indian Student Today or Wisdom, which would be cheap and resourceful for the students. I don't know what difference Ngawang plans to bring forward with his dream magazine but I would want to have solved question papers, subject notes, explained poems, writing competition, teachers’ and students’ award, etc…

This is but just a part of a big problem. Bhutanese buyers think Nu.100 to too much for a magazine, when they can pay the same amount to photocopy ten pages in black and white. Just go to a photo studio and have a copy of your picture printed in A4 size, I don’t know about Phuntsholing and Thimphu but in Wangdue it is Nu.300. Now look at a Magazine; it’s over 130 pages of full colored pages with write-ups. The cost we are paying for a magazine can actually buy just a page of it or an empty book.

A Magazine or for that matter a newspaper, survives on advertisers and sponsors but our country has very few companies which can afford such luxury. And this few find no reason why they should be advertised in Bhutan when they are already more than known to everybody. So it is hard to dream of a Magazine in Bhutan. And it is harder to dream of it when there are more magazines coming up because the sponsors are the same companies who didn’t see any difference after having being advertised in those former magazines.

Except for Tashi Delek (in-flight magazine of DrukAir) no magazine ever saw their second issue. Bhutan Now was the first and therefore the first to fail. Bhutan Window, Druk Trowa and Yeewong are the produce of 2009 and they are yet to see their second issues. I am positive as much as they are but until then Ngawang and I should put aside our dreams. At least we should wait for our country to come up with a company that can either make a shirt or a soap which is worth advertising and therefore that company is willing to sponsor our magazine.

Bajothang School Wireless Network: A generation ahead!

When I heard the news (on BBC) of a city in England where every citizen gets access to free wireless internet connection (first of it kind in the world) I just realized that Bajothang School is not bad! You walk into my school campus with a laptop (with wireless device) and you are connected 100mbps wireless network with 24 hours internet for free (Of course I should authorize you).

We began with a dial-up connection in 2007, then we taught internet from book and students has to imagine what email is and search engine… By last year we moved on to broadband. Sharing the internet on an imperfect network was difficult; on top of that broadband is not a connection to be shared on network.

I knew development is going to rain on us when a Singapore International Foundation chose our school along with four other for their Bhutan W.I.R.E.D Project. The core of the project is to use ICT in teaching and learning. And the dream is to connect the five schools with MoE to share resources through internet. The project donated 10 laptops to each school, with a LCD projector each and cameras. We are half way through at the moment but the going is good!

The broadband became old fashioned suddenly; we opted for lease line (all high school must have got this scheme from MoE). Our network became reliable and we started sharing the internet connection. Then the Bhutan W.I.R.E.D required our school to have a domain server which glorified our network and made my college dream come true. Mr. Kong Ming, a volunteer for the project, came out of his shoes to set up the whole thing.

Mr. Karma Jurmi, the man who looks after ICT department in MoE, promised us a set of wireless equipment and he kept his word. Right after we had the network and domain server done we got the wireless set. The power of this tiny device still didn’t cease to amaze me. I worked out a blueprint and left no building in school out of network, through wire and the wireless.

There are about 30 teachers in my school and 27 of us own our own laptops, which are connected to internet as long as they are in the school premises. Mr. Kong Ming showed me even more amazing things we could do on our network. We already started having a school intranet site (of course just within our school network but far more interactive and useful than school website we have) where we can post school announcements, have subject wiki pages, share files, discussion forum, etc.

My senior IT teacher BB Ghalley is on his masters in India. He writes me a mail once in about two months. He tells me that his university has just a few slow computers connected to internet where hundreds stand in line. Is it really a university then? I know his wits can’t withstand this story of a high school he once used to be in. But it’s true Bajo is one generation ahead of many school in the country.

November Rain- Don't be surprised!

(Apologies for the empty article, but it’s my way of reserving a page on the day when I need time to finish the piece)

I don’t know what inspired Guns n Roses to write their greatest hit song November Rain, but sometimes I get this funny feeling that it must have been something like a rain in November over the Himalayas.

Last year it would have been a surprise if we had a rain in cold November, but this year we are not. Look at me, at 6:50 this morning an earthquake awaked me and it didn’t surprise me much as it would have done some months before.

So many things have changed. Nostradamus predicted various important things that would happen long after his death, but Guru Rimpochee predicted everything in his one line prophesy; dhe num me jur, mee num jur wa een, (Oh, it reminds me of the BBS program which always starts with this line). So we are changing not the time.

The Biggest change I saw this year is in the smallest screen. Of course the media advertised. The pornographic clips are still spreading like wild fire. They all passed my eye too. I felt sorry for the two clips but the third one I saw looks like commercial. What is happening now? I wish to write more but I can’t sound politically correct all the time and could get myself in trouble.

Anyway, the message is; don't be surprised with a silly rain in November, or to have an earthquake for alarm clock, for that matter even snowfall in Phuntsholing, for look what we are doing now, even Bhutanese are making Pornographic Movies.