Tiger 2.0
“I’m still walking, so I’m sure that I can dance, it’s a saint of circumstance, it’s a tiger in a trance, the rain falling down” Bob Weir
Dear readers,
I apologize for my last rash entry. I realize that I owe it to my donors, family, and self to keep this blog alive. After all I need a place to rant and rave. Those who know me well accept that I have a propensity for self pity and negativity, two qualities useless here. Please forgive me! As for my grammar skills I have checked out several grammar books from our school library to study. Please feel free to edit my work in the comments section of this blog. I will also continue to disclose all personal details of my bumpy ride in Bhutan Thimphu to Tshenkharla takes about 24 hours to cover 500 miles! Luckily for any prospective visitors they have one domestic flight a week from Thimphu to an airport near Trashigang in the east. Unfortunately only my immediate family (brother, mother, father) get a waver of the $250 per day tourist tariff. If any of you would like to visit you must let me know by this summer as the tourism board needs a six month advanced plan. All our welcome!
Warmly TKG
Part 2 Good Morning Little Schoolgirl
The first day of classes was exhilarating and exhausting. I talked too much straining my voice. I tried my best to solicit questions and responses but the students are very shy about speaking English. I introduced myself including my family history and teaching back round. And told them of my congenital nastagmus. Then I made a seating chart for the purposes of practicing their names. They laughed mercilessly when I couldn’t pronounce their names properly. I especially had a difficult time with the “Tsh” sound in “Tshwing” which sounds most like the c sound but not quite. And their gho’s and kiera’s are adorable but indistinguishable. Plus they pronounce the “z” as “zet” which was confusing.
Today was also school elections and they have been lined up huddled in the dark rain voting for several hours. Karlos has been tirelessly organizing the election using these antique machines that beep when a vote is cast. There are serious security measures in place to ensure validity. At almost 100% turnout this election truly defines democracy in its truest form. Bobby and the headcount folks would be impressed. The students gave campaign speeches in English and Dzonka before the election. Then they filed into booths to cast their vote. I’m proud of all the students and learned something of Karlos’s passion for democracy.
I have prepped my lessons for tomorrow and tried to modify them to be simpler and accessible. The unit is on identity focusing on several poems. The theme of the week is “Who Am I?” Poetry is hard enough to discuss even when you are fluent. I will bring my mirror and encourage students to look in it and consider the face looking back. Eventually I will have them write a poem about themselves. This way I can learn something about each student and their writing capabilities.
Part 3 Water is Life
“Bring Me little water Sylvie, bring me little water now, bring me little water Sylvie, every little once in awhile.
“Bring it in a bucket Sylvie, bring it in a bucket now, bring it in a bucket Sylvie, every little once in awhile” Leadbelly
After almost a week the water flowed filling my red and blue plastic buckets. Hallelujah! Time for my weekly bath, LOL! As I gleefully watched the water start and stop and stop and start trickling into my buckets recalling the old folk song, “There’s a hole in the bucket Dear Liza Dear Liza, There’s a hole in the bucket Dear Liza my Dear…So fix it Dear Henry Dear Henry Dear Henry so fix it Dear Henry Dear Henry my Dear” So fix that water shortage Henry wherever you are? Apparently they are trying to tap a waterfall which cascades over the road to Yangtse and the villagers boast that the water shortage (crisis) will be over soon. The problem is water comes on random days primarily between 5-6 AM. Most of you know I like to sleep as late as possible which is 8 AM here. I must change my routine and collect water at dawn. Water is truly precious as thirsty students often come by to get a cup from my filter. I’m glad I brought plastic cups but I’m running out of them. I can’t believe hundreds of boys live in crammed bunks and I assume the girls do as well. Bhutanese students rarely complain about anything as they all work extremely hard from an early age.
Part 4 Chalk Dust Torture
“Can I live while I’m young?” Phish
One cool thing about a Bhutanese classroom is its utter simplicity. Wooden chairs, bare bulb lights, pane-less windows, and chalk board. By the end of my day I am covered in chalk like the abominable snowman. The lack of teacher resources really challenges the teacher to be creative. Fortunately each student possesses their own book, pencil, and brain. What else is necessary? I have been impressed so far by my student’s attitude and aptitude. Of course they struggle with English after all it is their third or fourth language. As an ESL teacher it’s easy to forget that they are thinking, speaking, reading, and writing in a foreign language, as complex as English. Heck I even struggle with grammar and the finer points of my own language and am a horrific speller to boot. I struggled so mercilessly in Sister Martha’s Spanish class that I still get anxious just thinking about it. I have bondless respect for ESL learners and the responsibility of speaking and critical thinking in another tongue. They did a fine job in group work analyzing and discussing the meaning of poems. This week’s theme is, “Who am I?” My favorite class is 8A. They are fun, enthusiastic, and hard working. Although teachers must never publically play favorites we are often drawn to certain students. One of my favorites is Namkith who reminds me of Jen from 4-1 in Korea
“Faces start to blur, no one is who they were, moonshine and ghosts how can I be sure?” Jus’ Like Mama Said
I met two boys helping Karlos prepare for a Puja at his house. (A puja is a spiritual cleansing performed by an army of monks) Both these class ten students came to Tshenkharla from tiny villages and farming families which grow maize to make arra (the local moonshine.) The puja takes place tomorrow as a blessing for the new home of the newlyweds. Tonight a group of red robed shaved headed monks are making preparations. I have lent Karlos and Sonam my curtains, heaters, spare mattress, and cutting board for the event. Since I share the same edifice occupying the smaller portion of the duplex this ceremony indirectly benefits my quarters. I am also invited to stop by in between classes at lunch break. I am fascinated by Buddhism which permeates every aspect of life here. We start each day with an enchanting prayer which is sung by our students. The chorus of voices is as moving as any Christmas choir but today was interrupted by a lone cacophonous Raven who was cooing, squawking, and even barking. Ravens have a tremendous vocal range beyond their standard AH! call. This Raven seemed upset in every way as his raspy pronouncements went on for several minutes from the top of a cypress tree. I began to wonder if he wasn’t channeling the ghost of the banished prince Tshangma himself.
As much as the philosophy of Buddhism enthralls me like any religion it has its imperfections, at least from my point of view. Buddhism is the official religion of Bhutan Lake , the very pagan traditions that had bestowed Excalibur to him in the first place. (FYI King Arthur and his Majesty of Bhutan are my heroes and both the Arthurian and Wangchuk dynasties are eerily similar in uniting various tribes into a solidified kingdom. Hence enjoying absolute love and devotion from their people) In the case of King Arthur his vow to Christ and monotheism replaced the Goddess religions forever installing a patriarchal institute that still retains power today. For me nature displays a perfect balance of both male and female forces i.e. the diamond being, (which is the perfect unity of male and female forces) Once we label God as a “he” we as a people strip the power from woman and the men thus deny the femininity in themselves. Although I don’t find Buddhism as overtly patriarchal as the Muslim, Jewish and Christian religions, it still perpetuates the mold. I see no female monks wearing the robes. I prey his majesty and his wife sire a girl who will preside as queen someday. I believe this would be a great boon for the country and especially its female citizens. I will try to absorb as much of Buddhist culture as possible as it seems a sensible way of emphasizing values and moderation. In Bhutan
Right now it’s Thursday night the most auspicious evening of my week (The designated night of “The Circus”) I am going to my neighbors to dine with the monks and family. I am rapidly acquiring a taste for Emadatsi although Kim chi is still most revered in my heart. For those who don’t know emadatsi is a dish made from spicy red or green chilies and smothered in velveta like white cheese. Kim chi is Korea Korea as emadatsi is to Bhutan
Part 5 The Wheel
“If the thunder don’t get you then the lightning will” Hunter/Garcia
Last night was an epic thunder storm in the land of the Thunder Dragon. The lights went out, it hailed, and thunder shook the foundations of the house. (Even louder than that blasted hydroelectric project messing with my cherished river below) I went out during the blackout as fog swirled around my torch beam like a Scooby Doo episode. I went up to spin the prayer wheel to prey for power restoration and it worked too. When we awoke this morning the upper peaks of the inner Himalayas were coated with snow and the morning sky was a silvery blue.
I made my first batch of fried rice, tea, and popcorn. It was satisfying to begin my long process of cooking for myself. I hope to graduate to more complex receipts soon. Making popcorn in the pressure cooker was a lot of fun and tasty too. The simple things are easy to appreciate here and it’s a challenge to stay one step ahead of your self in cooking, cleaning, washing, and prepping. When I complained to Becky about feeling bored at night she replied, “How can you be bored aren’t you always busy cooking, cleaning, and washing.” She had me, as there is always something to do in “THE LAND OF TERROR,” and as a teacher there is always more to accomplish. Thanks again Becky, I’d be lost without you! The trick is to transform the tedious chores I disdain into enjoyable tasks. I recall Aunt Mare’s twalets in Yellowstone . (Sorry for the spelling Mare) She thoroughly enjoyed her cleaning regiment in the early morning and late afternoon. One of my greatest pleasures here is heating water and soaking my feet in a bucket. Of course I feel dirty all the time and even a bucket bath does not replace a long hot shower or two too wash away the day.
The hardest challenge is being isolated from my own kind. The culture is extremely different and I marvel that I haven’t seen a Westerner or non Bhutanese person in over a month. My occasional tete a tete’s with Becky and long distance calls from the USA
Nature and weather stole the show this week with a forest fire, thunderstorm, hail, snow, and even a little hazy sunshine. The deciduous trees are already starting to sprout tiny blossoms but the weather remains cold, especially inside my hut. And today I almost got hit in the face by a kamikaze hummingbird! I also saw a dog with a broken leg hobbling through the courtyard during assembly. It was sad yet inspiring to see this scrawny k-9 enduring a very difficult situation. I empathize with the dogs as they huddle together on pine bows to weather the storm and frigid nights.
I finished “Radio Shangri-La” by Lisa Napoli where I picked up this exercise of reflecting on three good things each day. It was an interesting read centering on her volunteer work for the Bhutanese youth radio station in Thimphu . Thanks again for the I Pad mom it is the coolest thing ever and my virtual BFF…Some class 9 students (not my class) have stopped by to have me edit their essays. It took about an hour to complete the tutorial. Even with my poor grammar, I assist them on singular and plural words, past and present tense and forming complete sentences. The upside is a get a glimpse into their lives. For example one boys account of his first trip to the capital, Thimphu . I am realizing how fortunate we Americans, Canadians, Australians, and English are to enjoy our “gold” standard of living. People portray the Bhutanese as the happiest people on earth, or as barbarians. The truth is they are neither of these. They have a difficult life and envy the western lifestyle that they observe in movies. The boys spend their vacations plowing fields and making money for their poor families. In a way I find teaching and living here a karmic penance for being such an obnoxious entitled brat in my prolonged adolescence. Of course I’m hardly enlightened and continue to be self centered and selfish. Nevertheless Bhutan
I was so tired today partly because the dogs were at it again last night. It seems between midnight and one is “prime time” in the doggy universe for howling. Now I will plan for tomorrow’s lessons. Being a teacher tests all my areas of struggle including my own laziness and lack of patience. I can still recall the agonizing nights of student teaching retyping the lesson plans that my computer had zapped. Ally if you are happening to read this, thanks enjoying teaching in Sonoma
“Hanging by a thread working like a dog” JSYK
Three good things:
1. Finding a battered copy of Jamie Zeppa’s book “Beyond the Sky and Earth in our school library. It was taped together and the stamps indicated it had been checked out dozens of times.
2. The three legged dog reminding me of perseverance and the quality of “true grit.”
3. The girl’s speech at A.M assembly stating that “life is precious and it matters how you live it.”
Ode to the Thunder Dragon
The Thunder Dragon roars
From beyond the sky
Pronouncing his rein of terror
Over all sentient beings
Untamed by god
And on the loose
Shroud in thick mist
His Snake Eyes Roll
Shaking the velvet mountain,
Hidden as a tiger
Prowling under cover of Bomdeling
Deep in HIS sacred domain
HE devours the Snow –Lion
And chases the Migoi into exile
Upon the moraine
Into the realm of untracked
Imagination
Bomdeling is a National Park in Trashiyangtse district. Migoi is the Bhutanese yeti. Moraine is a ridge of rocks pushed to the edge of a glacier. This poem was inspired by a thunder storm on 3-1-12
Part 6 Mountain Song
“Gonna let the mountain be my home, I want to move, gonna let the mountain be my home, I want to breathe, gonna free my soul to roam, gonna move on” Furthur Band
I was awoken at 4:55 AM by the strangest cacophony of sound I’ve ever heard, a surreal mix of chanting and deep tones which sounded like drums, didgeridoo, and bagpipes bleeding through my walls and into the nightmare having. It was a reoccurring nightmare where I am trapped in a warzone and terrified to fight. I desperately am trying to hide in a forest as the enemy is coming. Sometimes I’m a Jew hiding from Nazi’s but this time I am an American in Tshenkharla and the Indians are storming across the border from Annarchal Pradesh. I am trying to seek refuge in the forest above our school and I can see the soldiers climbing the barren hillside and I know I am doomed. But just before they converge I am woken up by the haunting sound which in the darkness I register as the beginning of the Puja next door. A puja is an intricate Buddhist ceremony as a way of blessing a house or other auspicious occasion. There are half a dozen monks gathered and a llama. The alter room is adorned with offerings including Pepsi, beer, and chips, as well as several butter lamps. The event last more then twelve hours with chanting and spurts of vivid music while in the sitting room guests chat and sip tea. Outside a new red prayer flag (a long tall one for longevity) is erected. After class I stopped by for tea before being summoned to a basketball game. I am discouraged at how badly I suck at a game I once cherished. I wish I could blame it on my broken arm and poor foot ware but the truth is I have lost my game and my cardio vascular endurance. It also hurt my arm like heck so I think I will retire from hoops to focus on hiking. I had a nice dinner at the Puja and wrestled with Sergey (hatchet Boy) until he spit in my face. His mother Karma Om was conspicuously absent as I haven’t seen her in more than a week.
It turns out the instruments that woke me from my nightmare were more bizarre than anticipated including two huge painted drums struck with a hooked stick, two six foot long horns that growled like a didgeridoo, cymbals, and smaller straight horns that sound like bag pipes. This is accompanied by a murmuring prayer chant. That sounded like the noise my dad used to make while wrestling in our bedroom with me and my brother (a reference meant for Tyler and Tom)
I have a soar throat from all my “blah, blah, blah” this week. I’m trying to incorporate as much group work as possible. Last May I was teaching a poetry unit and put together what I thought was a great lesson, feeling quite proud my bubble was burst. The principal of Sun Valley Julie Harris, a woman I greatly admire, handed me her observation notes declaring that I talked too much and suggested that a lesson should be 20% teacher time and 80% student activities. My ego was bruised but her remarks have stuck with me. Of course as an ESL teacher in Bhutan
The mountains here begin as barren earth then rise into magnificent dark forests on the highest peaks. These are not the thrown of the gods like Gasa, rather a maze of steep mountains that construct the Inner Himalaya. My favorite is the mountain that is the demarcation between Bhutan and India Bhutan Mount Tam
Part 7 Ashes and Glass
“What if all tomorrow brings is ashes and glass?” Robert Hall Weir
I woke up to a dreary feeling and day to match. My throat was burning, my arm was throbbing from basketball, and I had an ear ache. I didn’t want to get up and was late for assembly. Fortunately my students quickly dispersed my cloud by sharing their magnificent poetry. I was amazed at what they read and even when the students English was not correct the meaning of their poem shined through. They were full of similes and metaphors and remarkable imagery addressing themselves, nature, and family. I was proud of them today. After three periods my class 8A did trash detail for thirty minutes. The campus is filthy especially near the boy’s hostel which resembles a trash heap. Their bathrooms smell horrific as I didn’t venture inside to look. Picking up trash in Bhutan Bhutan
The trash problem is multilayered as the only way to dispose of it in Tshenkharla seems to be burning. This creates an acrid toxic cloud that drifts into the atmosphere. It’s very defeating to spend time and energy picking up trash just to see it burned thus creating another environmental hazard. But right now it is the only way. First order of business is putting out trash cans so the students have easy access to receptacles. It would be easier and more pleasant to ignore this trash problem but I cannot. The worst are the mountain trails leading out of the village scattered with shiny plastic wrappers manufactured in some Indian factory now resting for eternity on the trail.
I checked out Jamie Zeppa’s book from the library to reread. The acknowledgments thanked Nancy Strickland and Mr. Mark who I met my last day in Thimphu . They all broke in together at WUSC in the late 80’s at remote postings in the East. Mr. Mark went on to become a successful banking wiz who currently helps fund and construct new schools in Bhutan Nancy Canada Bhutan Nancy Bhutan India Nancy Bhutan
“Languages dying the TV blood does flow, so far away from that rainbow road” Ed Volker
The trash is just a physical manifest of the influence of the changes happening in the Kingdom. Since the introduction of television and internet in 1999 the media pipes in Western culture into Bhutan Thimphu where most people choose western style clothes over gho’s and kieras. Even in the remote corner of the east people aspire to own cars which makes travel in this treacherous terrain possible. Although none of my students have ever been on an airplane or traveled to another country, they all are familiar with American movies and pop culture. The main problem is the youth are leaving the villages for the possibility of high paying jobs in Thimphu . Of course there aren’t enough jobs to accommodate the youth which means high unemployment in the capital. This leads to gangs and other issues. With a population of only 600,000 problems are magnified. For me the problem is the culture shock of no television and little companionship. There is always teaching preparation, reading, and cleaning but still I feel isolated on occasion. I wonder if any other BCF teachers feel the same? My antisocial tendencies do not help as I don’t go out of my way to make friends but most teachers are married and know only some English. Another issue is my abstinence from drinking which makes me an outcast anywhere in the world.
I am very concerned for the future of this tiny kingdom. They are definitely at a crossroads. On one hand it’s naive for me to admonish development and modernization especially when it comes to making life more comfortable and improving the health care system. There wasn’t even TP in the Thimphu hospital bathroom and it was filthy. But I am protective of this culture I know so little about. The mystic in me wants there to be a place untouched by the homogenous corporate world that we live in. I don’t want Bhutan to look like Korea Bhutan Bhutan was not even a united country and still most of my students haven’t ventured on the grueling national highway to Thimphu . But they know about Justin Beiber or is it Beaver I don’t even know. I think it’s safe to say no one knows about Bobby or the Grateful Dead. That’s how my friendship with Becky initiated when she remarked that my “Steal Your Face” cap was a nice addition to my gho. Being a Dead Head in Bhutan Korea used to complain how backwards Korea Bhutan
“Tomorrow will be Sunday, born of rainy Saturday” Hunter/Garcia
As I write this my phone rings which is rare and exciting. It was a local teacher from Yangtse Jimmey (the Bhutanese equivalent to Jimmy) If I make it to Yangtse I will call him and his wife for lunch at the momo joint. The rain continues to fall pelting my hut but if the weather clears I’m going for my pilgrimage to Chorten Kora. (I know I’m repeating myself) Tonight I’m feeling a bit homesick. I feel dirty and cold and would love a hot shower and a proper steak. But I realize that’s all this craving is an illusion as happiness is found within. Instead I will listen to some music and prep for next weeks classes. Overall I think this week went well and after a slow start and some silly humor the students have loosened up. I’d like to thank Tree at Sun Valley for her ESL lessons to the Latino students using hand gestures for complicated words. It is a great way to teach ESL vocabulary and both teacher and students love it. The kinesthetic movement and repetition helps them remember the words. For example for blossom we reach our hands into the sky opening them up while saying the word, “blossom” I am also utilizing the “if you can hear my voice clap three times” trick as a way to refocus the class. They are not used to raising their hands and often blurt out. We are also working on attentive listening. I only know a few names but have made seating charts to help me learn the 120 names. Learning names while important was not my goal for the first week. The biggest challenge thus far is getting individuals to respond to, or ask questions. A group discussion is not easy at this stage. But they are willing to participate in group activities and read their poems to the class. I wonder how much of what Mr. Tim says they actually understand. That’s why group activities and small bits of teaching at a time is paramount for their inclusion and success.
Three good things:
1. Morning tea
2. Student’s reading their beautiful poems
3. Namkith standing up to the boys
Here is an excerpt from His Majesties coronation speech in 2008, collected by Karma Loday.
“Throughout my rein I will never rule as a king. I will protect you as a parent, care for you as a brother and serve you as a son. I shall give you everything and keep nothing. I shall live such a life as a good human being that you find it worthy to serve as an example for your children. I have no personal goals other than to fulfill your hopes and aspirations. I shall always serve day and night, in the spirit of kindness justice and equality” His Majesties coronation address to the nation 6-8-08.
Part 8 Chorten Kora
“If I had my way I’d tear this old building down” Samson and Delilah
Went to Chorten Kora on Sunday which is just on the edge of “Trashi”yangtse town. I was very excited to finally see this place and was underwhelmed. Like when all your friends see a movie before you, exclaiming that you must see it and when you do it’s just okay. There was trash surrounding the complex on the river banks which upset me. How can there be gobs of trash at a 17h century temple on a pristine river? Although sacred to Bhutanese, I didn’t feel the connection to Chorten Kora as I did to Gom Kora which was situated on the road to nowhere about a three KM walk from Doksom. Gom Kora is on a river and kept immaculately clean by the monks. Chorten Kora was worth the visit but an hour was enough time there for me. Its finest feature is a white washed dome with SEVA eyes painted on it. I preferred the smaller anonymous chorten at Autsho in Lhuntse and at Gom Kora I could stay for a year. If you make the long trip from T-Gang to Yangtse to see Chorten Kora, YOU MUST STOP AT GOM KORA ON THE WAY! One other interesting thing was workers whitewashing Chorten Kora for the upcoming festival next month. The festival is in two waves fifteen days apart. First is for people from Arrunachal Pradesh , India East Bhutan . On this given Sunday, a few devout folks spinning handheld prayer wheels and handling rosary beads occupied the complex. Trashiyangtse was a stop on the traditional trade route between Bhutan and Tibet before modern day China Tibet
After my sightseeing I hung out in Yangtse where they were having a street version of “So you think you dance” I also met a nice Bhutanese dude who spoke good English and was a Jr. Engineer. I also got some momo’s at a place run by a Bhutanese of Nepalese descent from the South. I am always eager to meet Southern Bhutanese of Nepalese descent and am always curious to bring up the taboo subject of their origin in Bhutan USA or Canada Bhutan Bhutan
I’m gearing up for another week and fighting off a cold. Wish my $200 of meds showed up as the package is somewhere out there. I haven’t seen a westerner in 40 days as it’s the off season for tourism until April when a few brave souls might be in T-Gang. I’d be surprised if any tourists venture up the hill to see Thshenkharla Dzong ruins. (Even though it’s in the guidebook) I should probably make more of an effort to make friends here. But as I sink deeper into the new semester I realize how much work it will take to perform my duties in the classroom. I feel highly invested and accountable to that charge. The challenge and rewards of ESL teaching are unparalleled.
Part 9 Monday
“My time coming any day don’t worry about me no, been so long I felt this way I ain’t in no hurry no” Estimated Prophet
I was very pleased to get some large chart paper and a few colored markers from the school store. Today we will make class contracts and hang them on the wall. I have a corner for English in each classroom. The students will help create a class contract with guidelines and consequences for their actions. I want them to move away from rules and punishments replacing these ideas with guidelines and consequences. I hope they can come up with their own guidelines for classroom etiquette. At the end of the discussion they will all sign the contract and it will be displayed for the entire year. This week they will be reading aloud and working in groups. I also need to assign some paragraph writing exercises to monitor and assess each student’s writing skills. So far I am enjoying the classes despite being sick this week. Many students are also ill. One thing that is difficult about the National Dress is it does not provide sufficient warmth in the winter season as the students don’t wear coats. They run through the rain wearing wet cloth for the remainder of the day. I am teaching in my heavy coat and cap right now. I don’t prefer teaching in my ‘Steal Your Face cap” but when I’m sick my health is primary. After all one loses heat through their head. I am looking forward to spring and warmer days. The deciduous trees are already sprouting blossoms in anticipation but the weather has been cold and wet. I’m starting to cook more and I love the red onions here (so sweet) I’d love to smother a NY steak with them! I also have been brewing my own tea in the morning and evening. It is Darjeeling from India USA Bhutan
“One of them little stars, let it just be fine, all you gotta do now, is just hang up there and shine” Bob Weir
Three good things:
1. Getting chart paper and colored markers
2. Making fried rice with tomatoes, onions, and chili sauce
3. Talking to Sarah on the phone
Bonus: Singing Row Jimmy in the forest at night and startling the nomads and mules walking through the darkness.
“This spontaneous Activity embracing each moment
Does not discriminate between good and bad situations”
The Divine Madman
Part 10 Tuesday Blues had em’ all week long…
“Made me appreciate those Tuesday Blues, a perfect color of a perfect bruise” BW
Spent my free periods cooking potato, tomato, and onion scramble with extra crispy potatoes (for Marty) Tuesday is my breezy day with just four periods. I cleaned my hut and did the dishes using the remainder of my water, got a third of a bucket at 5 AM this morning before it stopped. The boys were coming by for filtered water last night and I had none to give. The hostel bathrooms stink and are filthy, another casualty of the water situation since water is needed to clean and flush the squat toilets. Water shortage remains the biggest challenge and I desperately need to do a wash. Even when water is collected it never runs for more than a few minutes. Doing dishes and washing in stagnant water is not as sanitary as with running water. After a bath I transfer the dirty water into the bathroom bucket for flushing. I have one pair of clean drawers left and keep buying new socks at the store until I get around to washing my filthy socks. But at least the house is clean. I have started cooking which also means doing dishes with limited water. I need to find my Bhutanese recipes so I can start cooking more variety. But for now I am doing rice, fried rice, and veggie scrambles adding chili sauce to everything! I haven’t figured out the pressure cooker yet for anything other than popcorn. I have some spaghetti left and a block of cheese from Bumthang. I really miss bread and a proper Michael’s sourdough roast beef sandwich, with deli dill on the side. The craving game is a dangerous thing one plays with him/her self in Bhutan America
The Eleven
“No more time to tell how, this is the season of what now”
Tonight I talked to my pal Becky on the phone hearing about her trials in Phonmey. Hers is a school at the end of the road in the East at the trailhead to Sakteng and Merek, home of the nomadic Brokpa peoples. A placed sealed off to westerners for over twenty years before being reopened last year. Her school is remote and lacks infrastructure and Becky is the ONLY teacher to appear every day so far at work where her principal is conspicuously absent. She is teaching a lower class level who struggle mightily in English, not to mention she is teaching them Science. She also has moved houses and has a water leakage problem in her new accommodation, which I find ironic since I have no water. She also has a bug problem as they are eating her alive while she sleeps and she is waking up covered in bites. I can only imagine the trials my colleagues are facing around the kingdom. I’ve only spoken to my wing women Sarah and Becky. Sarah seems to be doing well in Gasa in the far North but says it’s cold. For a young sprout of 23 she is wise beyond her years and a seasoned traveler including having lived and worked in Antarctica for six months. It’s always reassuring to hear her voice. Becky is wry and cynical like me (a hippie chick) who laughs at my tasteless jokes. I call her my twin since we have similar interests, are fringe characters, and are 34. I’m lucky to have a small support network. These women were incredibly helpful to me in Thimphu during orientation, guiding me through shopping, and keeping my PMA (positive Mental Attitude) in check. I shared a particularly memorable night with Sarah in the hospital as she received two IV’s. We have a remarkable group of teachers placed in Bhutan
The work here is endless. I don’t feel pressured since I am completely on my own for guidance. But the guilt of my inner Jew pushes me forward. I have a yearly plan to complete, names to learn, this weeks lessons to plan, housework, finding water and much more. It’s like I taught my students today “one step at a time.” They can read and write okay but comprehension is a challenge. For instance we are reading a short story about Western teenage society. They struggle through the passages but cannot answer simple questions about them. I am still teaching them vocabulary by using hand gestures which is a successful method. I wonder if they can complete the graphic organizers to help them break up chunks of information into smaller pieces. My main goal now is learning some names and keeping class fun, emphasizing student engagement. At Dominican they poo pooed the word “fun” if it popped up in speech or one of our tedious ten page lesson plans. Students must be engaged but not having fun. I believe fun should be a part of learning as all my milestone experiences in school were FUN. As far as my 120 students, I am reminding myself that English is a third or fourth language for them. It’s pretty incredible that they can even perform at this level having never met a real Westerner and coming from illiterate farming families. I hope to help them in any way I can to become more fluent and confident in their English ability. I will focus on the four sacred ESL domains, Reading
I’m off to my favorite shop (the only one of the three that sells Coke) to buy some veggies, Raman Noodles, eggs, and snacks. She is running me a tab that would make Normy jealous. I am up to 2,000 Ngultrum and will pay once I get my elusive first paycheck which rumor has it could be three months. For those interested 2,000 NG is about $40 USD.
1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10…eleven TWELVE!
“Big Bad Blues keep rolling on, never found a place where I belong” Hunter/weir
I’ve often found Buddhism is a useful religion in poor countries since its main tenant is “life is suffering” which is convenient in difficult settings. Another classic Bhutanese saying from the same teacher who gave away his GF to a friend was, “Life is like a phallus sometimes hard and sometimes soft, sometimes in and sometimes out.” I also notice my students like to hit each other a lot, especially the girls. AH, I am trying to keep an open mind and realize I am not the most flexible person in the world. As respect for (HM) His Majesty I will remove my Cap but wonder why treating the earth like a garbage dump is appropriate behavior. The truth is I am an alien here, THE ONE WHOSE HOME PLANET HAS BEEN DESTROYED!!!! I have no idea what is acceptable and will surely not assimilate in the way that Nancy Asia . I imagined a more agreeable people who would embrace me. Not to say Bhutanese are not friendly. I was welcomed warmly but it seems a more superficial courtesy, like a customary obligation more than a genuine sincerity. I have received no cultural or scholastic advice as I blindly grope along apparently offending the population. One bit of usable advice from the teacher’s wife’s tirade is that I will try to slow down for my student’s sake, even if it means a paragraph a class. Its shades of Korea Bhutan Tyler
I hope to be granted a casual day to visit the School for the Disabled outside Trashigang. This is primarily a school for the blind which has special meaning for me. I hope to observe and volunteer for a day. My Bhutan bucket list has more than five years worth of items on it so I need to revise and conquer as much of it as possible in my short time here. Items like seeing a Himalayan peak up close, a glacieral lake, and Royal Manas, but for now one SLOW step at a time! Oh yeah and praying for water.
3 good things:
1. I’m alive
2. knowing the people I love are out there somewhere
3. clean house and popcorn
Again for Prince Tsangma
“Way down by the shinning gate, the djinn reveal to me my fate, you and I we’ve got a date, and I’ll be there but you’ll be late” Two Djinn
Where have you gone?
Abandoning your gate and walls
Now overgrown with weeds and debris
I clean your house and live in it
I sing you lullabies in the darkness
Moving my beam of light
Over your tired red and blue paintings
Eleven hundred years of banishment
Is hardly enough time to comprehend your sadness
Your secret whispered in the cold breeze
Kept by dark compassionate trees
With nowhere left to go
As I wait for your return
Stranded on this mountain for eternity
VIII Let It Bleed
“Well we all need someone we can bleed on, and if you want to honey why don’t you bleed on me” Stones
Today was an interesting day of teaching. Whenever I feel lazy I take a walk to the old grinding stone that inspired the name of Rangthangwoon (the old name of Tshenkharla) which translates to the grinding stone. When I touch the sacred stone at the heart of our campus it reminds me of the popular saying, put your nose to the grindstone. This usually gives me the push I need to continue on. After last nights spirited cultural exchange around the woodstove at mama’s place I woke up feeling quite alienated and deflated. Luckily nature was feeling fine as the sun broke through the Omni present layer of grey clouds. Birds were chirping and patches of blue were visible. I taught today in slow motion, moving through the molasses of my mind. Checking and rechecking for understanding from my students. The challenge of ESL teaching is defining complicated words and phrases by using smaller easier words and relating the ideas to their own experiences. This can be very challenging but the students did a good job today. The best moment was when a girl stopped me and told me she didn’t understand my explanation. I believe the word was assurance. After about five minutes of role playing and various examples she grasped the definition. They are also becoming better listeners which pleased me. I have only scratched the surface as I need to learn names and learning styles. I have to admit with my blurry vision and their National Dress they all look the same to me now. But I know that will change over time. My 7th grade class did a fine job using their critical thinking skills to analyze a poem about tradition and relating it to their own culture in Bhutan America
At lunch break I sliced my finger instead of the onion and spent 30 minutes bleeding profusely. It’s a deep gash but it should heal. I might start cutting on the floor or a chair since my table is wobbly. I’m glad the band aids were in the one and only package I’ve received. Becky also has not received her packages yet. It takes several months if they come at all. After school we had an infamous Bhutan
Three Good things
1. Students in class 8 giving supreme effort in cooperative small group discussion.
2. Watching a Raven soar down over the edge of my “front yard” gliding to a far off pine tree top. His wings beating on the wind. It feels like my hut is perched on a cliff. (Remembering feeding the Ravens at our lunch stop in between Bumthang and Mongor by throwing scraps in the air and watching them catch them in mid flight)
3. Walking in the rain to get a FANTA
Part 14 The Alter
“Oh Riley run and tell Aunt Sally just what that sunset means to you, it’s the blood of a million poets turning a burgundy, orange and blue” Bring Me The Head of Isaac Newton, Ed Volker
Today I went for an incredible hike after class. It was the clearest day thus far in Bhutan with views of the distant snowcapped peaks of India Bhutan
We did our class contracts today and the students came up with some good class rules. Some students were throwing paper and I had to hold them after class. I am sentenced the two perpetrators to write a paragraph explaining “why we can’t throw things in class.” Overall my students behavior has been splendid especially compared to working with the “at risk” Latinos at BACR before departure. I Ran into Namkith after school (my 8A class captain) and she said she was off to prey. She said she preferred to prey to Jesus. She was the first Bhutanese who has mentioned anything about Jesus as most are only vaguely aware of Christianity. She still did the Buddhist prayers as well to appease her family but mentioned that it said in the bible that god wouldn’t get angry if she preyed to another religion. I assured her that she ought to follow what makes her happy. It reminded me of Soyoung who was born a Buddhist but converted to Christianity because she found a church that she felt comfortable in. Ironically she took me to several Buddhist temples in the countryside of Korea
It was hilarious watching the girls play basketball today as they were having so much fun learning the game, a less hostile version of the boy’s games. I have enjoyed rereading Zeppa’s book on my rock below my hut. To get to it you must traverse down a hill which is the property of the farmer living below me. Today the students who live there were hauling huge sacks of radishes up the hill. I can’t believe how strong the young girls of Bhutan Thimphu today seem to be hawking the same wears as then. I feel Jamie is a kindred spirit and hope she has checked into “Tiger” which is a long shot as we are only FB friends. Her book is a valuable asset for perspective teachers, Bhutanese citizens, or anybody interested in Bhutan
Part 15 East Meets West
“It seems like all this life was just a dream” Stella Blue
Today we finished are class contracts and the students came up to the desk to sign them. They all have beautiful artistic signatures and after signing we hung the documents on the wall. As a signing bonus I gave the students small prizes. My home class 8A got super balls, 8B got candy, and 7A and 7B got stickers. Most of my cool prizes are in the mail or rusticating in an Indian post office somewhere. I aim to learn all the names in the next month which will make my teaching more meaningful and enjoyable. After all making personal connections is what I love about my profession. Right now as I write this a class 10 student named Pema Gheltson is preparing a simple dinner for me. He is a nice boy of 17 but shy in speaking English. I guess this is one advantage of living a stones throw from the boy’s hostel. I did not ask for this assistance but he’s been coming by three times a day asking to cook for me so I’ve relented. In Bhutan
Today was a perfect example of BST (Bhutan Stretchable Time) which bleeds into school life as well. The timetable is a constant point of irritation and occasional humor for me. Everyone tells me different things about the schedule. Some say classes are 45 minutes while some say they are 40 minutes. I go by the “official” schedule which is on a single sheet of paper taped to the office wall. But when I show up to my class a teacher is teaching overtime while in the class next door there is no teacher at all. When I expect the bell to ring it never does or it rings ten minutes late. The bell is a manual gong in the courtyard. But it isn’t a gong with a low cymbal sound, rather a chiming bell that sounds like a mast clanging in the breeze on a sailboat. It’s all very confusing and I don’t know why I take it so seriously. We in the west and especially teachers are so attached to time. During student teaching I planned my lessons to the minute and my day was measured out in exact increments. I realize flexibility is important but educational time is valuable. Students don’t wear watches and seem to have no conception of time and it doesn’t bother them when things run this way. They also think it’s quite funny that I am disturbed by the Bhutanese interpretation of time. So goes my days, one moment I feel exhilarated by the beauty surrounding me and sometimes deflated by a sense of isolation. I remind myself how unique an experience being immersed in this culture is. How tourists pay $250 a day just to catch a glimpse of Bhutan Bhutan an idle mind is valuable as one must slow down to acclimate to a speed of existence different then the USA Bhutan
Dinner is served a wonderful meal and I am full for the first time in days. The trick is eating gobs of rice with a bit of curry. In Bhutan Bhutan village of Thsenkharla Bhutan
I wrote a poem today which was inspired by my daily meditations on my rock. My meditation is simply watching the view while listening to STS9 with my headphones. The idea for this piece was born gazing at grazing cows dutifully chewing the grasses which slowly are coming to life as spring creeps in. There is something simplistic about these bovine creatures as they deliberately consume the vegetation moving through the forests and peoples farmland seemingly roaming free. I even here there bells at night and wonder if they sleep at all or if they doze standing up? One thing is for sure, MORE COW BELL!
GRAZE
Sunbeams glide across an ozone sky
as a blue ball spins spins spins
turning like a prayer wheel in the dark
a golden light breaks the dawn
feeding yellow grass to green
as cows graze graze graze
the livelong day forever as before
their bells tink in soft action
setting silver clouds adrift
in perpetual motion
casting shadows on terraces
carved into ambivalent mountains
made of impenetrable rock
with little trees
sprouting from their skin,
and from within
stone hearts rise and fall
at an ancient rate
as tiny feet pitter patter
and tiny hands tickle
their backside
by sprinkling seeds.
just miniature beings
preying to an invisible god
begging for the rain to come
Part 16 “Tragedy narrowly averted”
“You must leave your home and go forth from your country.
The children of Buddha all practice this way” The Thirty Seven Bodhisattva practices, collected by Jamie Zeppa.
Last night my computer briefly died and for two hours I thought it was over for my laptop. But Karlos directed me to Tinley who examined the battery blowing off the dust. Unplugging and re-plugging the power strip. I’ve fried two of my three strips. After doing all these things three times my computer came back to life. This is an old laptop that was a refurbished computer. When I’m typing in word the cursor will jump all over the page inserting letters where they don’t belong. But it is my computer and without it I am lost. There is no computer store outside of Thimphu for repairs. A new computer can be purchased at the border town of Samdrop Jongkhar Bhutan Teacher Resource Center
I was excited that in Jamie’s book she visits Tshenkharla when it was Rangthangwoon to see fellow Canadian teacher Catherine who was posted here for at least two years. It’s only a brief chapter but very beautiful account of my village. It seems very similar today as it was then, as she describes a tiny hamlet with a few shops half way up a mountain. She even crosses the infamous Chasm bridge on her way from Trashigang to Doksom. That’s the bridge where I said my third and final goodbye chasing the Wamrong bus carrying Simon, Becky, Martha, and Ashleigh across the river. Returning BCF teacher Scott Harris told hilarious stories during orientation of Kendra’s battles with the gatekeeper on her many crossings. You have to check in and out when crossing the bridge leaving Yangtse district and apparently former teachers hid in the back of trucks to avoid this obligation. At the end of the chapter called Rangthangwoon Jamie is lying in her friend Catherine’s quarters and gazing up at the stars through a window when she realizes she has come to appreciate Bhutan,
“I remember my arrival in Bhutan
I am tickled that the great Jamie Zeppa had an epiphany in my village. I’ve enjoyed re reading the beginning of the book as she struggles to cook and bouts of homesickness. I find her words comforting and inspiring. I also loved the scene with our very own Nancy Strickland who even in her youth was the voice of clarity and reason. Jamie and Nancy remain close friends and met in Trashigang as Nancy Nancy is back in Thimphu as a Bhutanese citizen and Jamie is a professor in Canada Bhutan Bhutan
I woke up feeling my age of 34 today on my stiff mattress with sore arm. Where has my youth gone? I can still remember 17 like yesterday, pursuing the rainbow trail. I recall sitting over a plate of octopus and rice in Korea Yellowstone sojourn (32) I became resurrected as a new person. Actually I didn’t realize this until very recently perhaps in that quiet empty room at Tigers Nest. The tears I shed mourned the death of old Tim, the parts I loved and the parts I loathed, the thrill seeker, the lover, the martyr, the self centered man-child. Now I must find myself in these NEW DARK AGES…In the middle path of moderation.
“And if you find someone whose futures not in stone
The heart you got to give is your own” Zeke
Three Good Things
1. Talking to Becky on the phone as a group of little kids stalked me on the trail hiding in the bushes.
2. Students singing songs, dancing, and doing skits for precious night.
3. Having a rare two days in a row of sunshine.
Part 17 Easy to Slip
“It’s so easy to slip it’s so easy to fall, let your memory drift and do nothing at all. All the love that you missed all the people you can’t recall, do they really exist at all?”
Today I was woken up by six students who forced there way into my hut and began scrubbing the floors at 6:30. Then I was served tea and fried rice, a breakfast in bed. I got up and scrubbed my clothes doing a laundry. An hour later my hands were raw and then I fell going down the hill to hang my clothes to dry. I twisted my ankle and ironically I just read the part in Jamie’s book where her friend twists her ankle doing laundry in the creek. Its just strained not sprained but it was a good reminder that one must watch every step in Bhutan
“And it’s bigger then a drive in movie ooh wee”
I came back home to finish my laundry and hang it on the barbed wire fence to dry above piles of cow dung. It was great talking to Tyler, Beth and Reed on the phone today and hear about Reeds first Tam trip in the fog. I can’t wait to make my first trip to Tam with Reed someday. But for now I plod along in East Bhutan . I have a huge week of teaching including learning names and executing a weeks worth of carefully planned activities. I need to take much more time before beginning the readings to activate their back round knowledge. I also need to check for careful understanding to make sure they are not just reading the words. Sometimes it’s hard to know their comprehension since they are so reluctant to speak in class. And when doing group activities I must explain directions over and over. When I ask them to explain the activity back to me they furtively glance at each other then cast their eyes to the floor. I will be mindful to teach to the struggling students in the class not just the aces. It should be an exciting week. With Saturday classes the weekend flies by, but overall my morale is steady and I feel relatively happy whatever that means. I’m just keeping my nose to that old grinding stone half way up a mountain in old Rangthangwoon.
May the goddess bless all sentient beings and especially you…
Timothy (god’s honor)
Well, Timmers, it took me 3 days to read the recent posts. I get a sense of what you're up against and how it's transforming you. 1) DELIGHTED that the invisible world is speaking to you. 2) When the nightmare returns, walk out of hiding and turn to your pursuers and ask them what they want! 3) Your most valuable lessons in this time of truly meeting yourself is the care of your body and home! Cooking, cleaning, healing, smiling, dancing, gazing at the sky. This is life! Dig it. I LOVE you.
ReplyDeleteHi Tim: I left a reply yesterday on the blog but it is not there today? Am enjoying reading your updates and particularly enjoyed the recollection of Harry Chapin's songs. I ordered a CD from Amazon yesterday! Checked him out on Wikipedia, and yes he died in 1981, hit by a 16 wheeler in his VW which swerved into the truck. They think he had a heart attack at 39! You would enjoy his bio. as he was a man of the people and the earth. Check it out sometime!
ReplyDeleteI have e-mailed Nancy Strickland (nancybhutan@yahoo.com) about your missing packages but have received no response after a week. Am disapointed she would not at least respond? Bhutan Canada could do nothing for me either! I'm guessing it was probably stolen by someone in the country of perfection! Watch your back side!
Read Dave's blog also yesterday and here's a tip! He takes his papers in to the manditory meetings and corrects them while they ramble on in the native tongue, stopping only when the few English words are spoken! Good use of the time rather than just sitting there bored to death!
Be well my son!
Love you, Dad