The Other Side of 2020 Pandemic

2020 has found a snug place in the annals of the world history for its sheer notoriety. The 2020 global outbreak of Corona Virus has claimed over a million lives worldwide. According to WHO, the death toll stands at 1,848,704 with 84,474,195 active COVID-19 cases as of 5.47pm CET, January 5, 2021. 

    The onslaught of this virus has upended the world throwing it deep into the irremediable crises and any attempt to restore the world order has proven disappointingly futile. As the world still hunts for a combative gear against this deadly virus in the form of vaccines, there is this tiny dot in the world map called Bhutan where a lot is going on lately. 

    It is not that Bhutan is COVID-19 free. Bhutan does have it. There are 456 active cases with no death as on January 4, 2021, according to the Ministry of Health. Despite the ongoing COVID-19-induced pain and panic looming large, 2020 has made Bhutan come together as one formidable unit in a fight against the pandemic. The nation is small, so is the population. But the fight Bhutan has put up is no small. With His Majesty at the helm, the Bhutanese lots come forward and contribute in various ways possible towards this fight. What makes me wonder is about the spirit of ‘voluntarism’ people harbour—where does it come from altogether? 

    Generally speaking, Bhutanese folks are good-natured and kind. So, is kindness responsible for ‘voluntarism’? If that is so, what is the shared denominator of ‘kindness’ across cultures and religions? Professor Nielson* thinks that it is “that of being something to others” which he beautifully consolidates in the act of ‘giving’ or ‘volunteering’ for that matter. In this sense, there is no greater volunteer than His Majesty the King Himself, particularly during such unprecedented times. He who forgoes His own safety and comes out to lead by example is no ordinary king. More than the kindness that the Bhutanese lots exude; it is His Majesty’s inspiration that draws the nation into ‘voluntarism’. Dasho Karma Ura** also corroborates that His Majesty “conveyed the warm sentiments he has about unity, cooperation, spontaneous sacrifice, and voluntarism that the people have shown” in His 113th National Day address on December 17, 2020. Besides, His Majesty the Great Fourth, the King in retirement, also travelled extensively in the south to reach out to the army of outreach workers and front-liners and boosted their morale. So, when Bhutan has Their Majesties doing all they can, it is only natural that Their subjects come out volunteering for the larger good of the country, kindness or not. 

Their Majesties the Fifth and the Fourth Kings
PC: Kuensel

    However, it is indescribably heart-warming to see youth around garbed in orange as ‘De-Suups: The Guardians of Peace”—a group of volunteers under the direct command of His Majesty. Unlike other better-offs, they have nothing much to offer to the nation around this time. But, they have something better that does not even have a price tag and that is their time. I am confident when I say that they come forward on their own volition to partake of this fight not because they are kind, but because they have understood His Majesty’s golden words to the core. Let me also hasten to add that this does not rule out them being kind. 

Their Majesties the King Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuck and  the Queen Jetsun Pema Wangchuck with De-Suups
PC: Google images

    In sum, the chaotic COVID-19 climate has indirectly bolstered ‘voluntarism’ in the Bhutanese youth, the most important of all. The fact that they have volunteered only reassures that the country is in the good hands for the future, in the hands of those who can look at the adversities eyeball to eyeball and overcome them as long as this spirit (of ‘voluntarism’) lives in them strong. 

*Thomas Nielson is the Professor at the University of Canberra, Australia.                                                                           http://www.thomaswnielsen.net/giving-key-solving-problems/

**Dasho Karma Ura is the President of The Centre of Bhutan and GNH Studies, Bhutan.                                                     https://kuenselonline.com/a-delightful-wonder-the-113th-national-day-address/

...this life

Wollongong Beach, NSW

I'm awake in my sleep and I'm asleep in my wakeful hours. There's an angry storm in my head and a vicious volcano in my heart ready to burst anytime; and an earthquake that sends electricity down my spine, giving my body shivers and shudders. I'm troubled—mind, body and soul. 

One question I couldn't find the answer hitherto is: WHAT IS LIFE? I've seen fools to charlatans, and charlatans to erudite scholars talking about life at its length and breadth and yet, I'm least satisfied with them. It somehow seems that it's rather a time for me to start pursuing the answer myself than wait for the shower on a sunny day. But how? 

Ambitions rule while we're alive only to realize its sheer vanity at the face of death. And while we accept life with stoic endurance somehow, can we accept death in the same spirit and in the same style? What if everything the world says about the after-death is but a blatant lie? Do we have backup plans?

Thoughts on Life

Are you happy and satisfied with how far you have come in life? I reckon there's no right or wrong answer to that, but the point is, how often do you ask this question to yourself? Asking this question on a regular basis provides you with a fair tool to assess your progress in life thus far and prepares you for the next milestone you have it indelibly etched on your mind. Oh! yes, life should be progressive. It's true spiritually as well let alone a whole lot of other dimensions. ⁣

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As you were growing, you were constantly told, "Study hard and get good grades, so that you could go to college, so that you could land a decent job, so that you could start a family and provide for them, so that you have a good life later on living off your pension!" Is that all? The world gives you this old advice out of habit, I surmise.⁣

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First off, let's face it, our educational system is pretty antiquated in almost every sense. It hasn't improved a bit ever since the industrial revolution. While attempts have been made to make education more relevant today, it still has a lot of homework to do. However, it's not that education is absolutely useless and unnecessary. It's needed for sure, but what's more exigent (and not taught in schools) is financial literacy. If you know the nuts and bolts of that, you can practically win over your financial miseries, and that, in turn, will enable you to retire early. Why work all your life and live in a wheelchair, post-work?! You alone can change that! ⁣

So it comes down to: why this? But, why not? Whether you like it or not, the truth is you work for money. And you don't like to talk about money like it could cause some presentiments. Let's talk about it, but that doesn't mean money has to be about materialism all the time. If you know how to handle your money well, you can buy time for yourself so that you can attend to the many callings of your life. Wonder how? Quite simple. Hire people to do your job, and later on, you can retire early too, leaving all the time in the world for yourself. So you want to set off for a spiritual safari, go do that! You can literally do anything. Just help yourself tick off stuff from your wishlist, so much that when you eventually rest on your deathbed, you don't look back in life with remorse and tears, but look forward with a smile of satisfaction.

Transfer Woes

When I was undergoing my training at the Samtse College of Education, I was acquainted with the idea that each teacher must serve in remote schools for at least three years. Honestly, I felt there was one additional word suffixed to this statement - COMPULSORY. Well, I did not have any qualms then to render this service. In fact, it is a calling that needed more actions than mere ears. That was what I believed when I volunteered for one of the remotest schools in Dagana for my year-long apprenticeship. Of course, I went there on my own volition but it was also because no one else was willing. It was a six-hour walk uphill from the nearest road head (it was longer 'officially', course!) through the thick woods infested with mountain bears and boars. And during monsoon, it was worse. There was the constant fog that formed aura-like shroud over that place. Sun was only a winter's memory. I saw 'acrobatic' leeches for the first time in my life. They climbed on the boughs and somersaulted thrice or more and landed on the passersby beneath. And there was a swarm of sandflies which fed on humans. Locals called them 'bushina' and my natives call them 'zammu'. Every single bite meant boil-like wounds lasting for weeks. And there were bugs to bother at nights. Life was hanging in balance awhile. In retrospect, it was one sweet journey I made in life post-high school.

And after my training, I was placed at Phensum Primary School. I still remember what my Principal said during our first meet. He said, 'Whoever teaches English in Class IV must put in extra efforts.' I replied that I would. But it was only later that I discovered something was amiss there. Class IV children could not even complete the alphabets let alone venturing on any further. I was at my wit's end. I did not know what to do next. I decided to unlock the secret behind this. I was literally taken aback to find out that half of them directly joined from NFE to Class III the previous year. Some of them could hardly differentiate p's from q's and b's from d's. What could the teacher's years of training fend for them when communication was not possible? I had a robust urge to see how they managed to pull through and checked the Question Bank. The cat came out of the bag! Class III was no Class III in any sense. Then I understood what my Principal meant by 'extra efforts'. And that was not possible even for Hercules, in the strictest of sense, given the nature of Class IV English syllabus.

Teacher Human Resource Policy 2014 stated there must be a right composition of teachers in any given school. But when I first arrived there, there was not a single senior teacher other than the Principal. The little mentoring, little guidance and little hand that a fresher would need were out of the question.

Then I came to my present ECR. One thing I learnt here is that an ECR is a poor concept if it is left to fend for itself. And multi-grade teaching is a daunting task. Not having many friends around certainly puts limitations on learning by sharing. Now I feel I should go on a transfer if I at all should advance professionally.

But it teases me to find out that my transfer requests are turned down each time I apply. My friends consoled, "It's alright. Better luck next time!" That is when I go rather hysterical--did they imply that I ran out of my luck? And what has this luck thing got to do here! I completed three years already and now I am running into my fifth. This is the reward for serving remote schools. I look at my Principal and I tell myself that I should not end up like him. He served remote schools all his life and when I saw him filling up a transfer form, I was touched beyond words. The reason for transfer he wrote was: "I want to have a glimpse of urban life before I retire."

The point is, why bias? There are teachers who never stepped outside the metropolitan centres for reasons what not. For one more year they dwell there, one more year transfer requests of teachers serving in remote schools will be turned down. And let's face it, there are also teachers who have fake medical certificates to ensure them a place in urban hubs.

The change of place does not necessarily promise growth but it does give a new page to begin afresh, a new sense of motivation to prove oneself and thrive. It is when such privileges are denied that even the dusty road on the other hill appears greener.

PS: I posted this piece on Facebook some years ago. My transfer was repeatedly turned down and I could not help but come up with this. No sooner had I finished posting it on Facebook than Kunga Tenzin Dorji (aka Supe) shared it after tagging our PM. That sent chill down my spine. It was then shared by Namgay Zam on her page. As 'Like' poured in over time, I began to fear the worst. Luckily, no such thing happened, much to my relief.

The World After High School

Around thirteen years ago, a bunch of young lads crossed this bridge to test the waters and explore the world of teaching. It was a completely different world there altogether. The location had everything to sustain life although things like power, roads, cellular phone network, and LPG weren’t anywhere within its reach. But, such inadequacies and deficiencies only made us more resilient and ready to weather the storms. That was why the teacher apprentice programme of such nature was devised in the first place. For me, it wasn’t any different than spending months in the thicket, left to fend for myself and try my ‘butterfingers’ in the given trade. Despite my initial hesitation and misgivings, I’d gone headlong and came out not just alive but prepared to undergo a similar hardship again.

Burichhu Suspension Bridge

Fast forward thirteen odd years, I can still maintain that those were the best days of my life. I wouldn’t be who I’m today if not for that adventure-laden, heuristic teacher apprentice programme. It not only helped bridge a young, innocuous high school graduate’s journey with that of a curious, over-zealous teacher apprentice’s, but also helped bridge the fledgeling teacher apprentice’s journey with that of a tried-and-trusted regular schoolteacher’s. And besides all that, the sight of this bridge still gives me gooseflesh all over every time I pass by today.

 

Postscript: Teacher apprenticeship was a requirement that every teacher-select candidate had to undergo before they were taken to the teacher training college. After a fortnight-long induction, they were placed in every nook and cranny across the country for about eight months. After its completion, they underwent B.Ed, a three-year course. Just to clarify, it’s not a prac; they’d their prac in the second year. The teacher apprentice practice is discontinued from 2009.

Some more photos I later discovered on Facebook. I can’t attach any credits since I’d downloaded them from various threads with no intention of using them later. 

Phuensumgang Community Primary School, Lajab Gewog, Dagana.

The couple under the umbrella was the Basic Health Worker and his better-half.

And a lot of familiar faces replete with carefree smiles. 

Looks like the former education minister Thakur Singh Powdyel had visited the school. 

If you could see the little huts behind the traditional tents, that’s where the students stayed. The school had no boarding facility then. So their parents built such makeshift huts to house them since the nearest settlement was about an hour far from the school. Worse, the bear-boar-infested paths between their homes and school left them with no better alternative. 

Oh, the school now has a uniform too! Back in 2007, the children could wear any Gho and Kira, and most of them were either barefooted or gum-booted. But my goodness, they really worked hard! Our Principal used to send us to monitor them in their huts and I’d almost always found them studying, something I don’t see today, particularly in the urban schools. And oh, they always had kerosene lamps to ensure that they studied beyond the sundown. 

In one of the huts, two little sisters stayed all by themselves. One was in grade 1 and other in pre-primary. The elder sister did all the cooking and washing by herself. And better yet, she did exceptionally well in academics too. 

On hindsight, these children were the best lessons of my life. They made the best use of what little was within their reach and they thrived; I still keep hearing stories about their successes and they make me a bit teary-eyed but more than anything else, ultra-proud. 

The usherette in this photo was the Principal (Palden Dorji) then. 

This whole place was usually shrouded in thick blankets of fog most of the year. While it missed every bit of the modern amenities, it’d plenty of leeches and sandflies as if that did any good for all its inadequacies. God has the best humour, you must know!

This is how the locals there commuted from the nearest road-point then. It was roughly a six-hour walk uphill. They always had to walk in groups for safety since the thickets were home to mountain bears and wild boars. I’m told that they’ve roads today. 

Summer was terrible there. The school was literally cut off from the rest of the world with these tiny streams becoming irksome monsters. 

However, this photo reminds me of my first walk to that school. We’re five of us and sixteen little boys had come all the way to help us with our luggage. We reached the school at 9 pm, totally exhausted and famished, and fully drenched in perspiration, but inexplicably satisfied having conquered the first of the many obstacles. 

It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men

Take a dip into the news on various mainstream and social media sources and you almost always see our own lots caught smuggling drugs and a host of other illegal stuff, fabricating and forging bills and documents for personal gains, siphoning public fund, rape and sexual molestation, theft and burglary, shopkeepers and taxi drivers taking advantage during dire situations and the list goes on. It should make us question where things have gone wrong. As much as these individuals or groups have failed us and the nation, we have equally failed them as a society and as a nation. Something somewhere in their education, parenting and social circle must have been awfully deficient that it has fallen short in building a strong character and conscience, nurturing the grace of mind, and bringing up a generation of incorruptible souls. The great Gandhi remarked, “The end of education is to build a character.” If you are still not sure what this ‘character’ entails, then you should take a glimpse at our legendary monarchs. It is nothing but a robust, relentless ‘character’ Their Majesties exude and exhibit both in action and spirit. And we should bask under Their glorious light and follow Them headstrong for They are the lodestars amidst this sea of conundrums. If They cannot inspire and instil a fire in us to be our better selves, than who else can?

As clichéd as it may sound, it is never too late in building our lots, in building our nation. So, the primary responsibility falls back to education, parenting and us as a community all over again—quite needless to say. Therefore, dear nation-builders, let’s build a nation that is conscientious, SMART, and life-ready; let’s nip in the bud for in the words of Frederick Douglass:

“It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men.”

Postscript: An opinion originally published on a Facebook page.