To Teach and Learn

Above me, I have a UNICEF year planner (calendar) and on it I read, "Our Children, Our Investment". Below this line, "A nation's future will mirror the quality of her youth- a nation cannot fool herself into thinking of a brighter future when she has not invested wisely in her children" - His Majesty Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuck, King of Bhutan. I stop to think about it and write few lines that wing my way because I am a father, a teacher and a citizen of my country and the World. These words ring so very true that I find my purpose renewed in life. On the calendar I see pictures. I see a young girl drenched in sweat but smiling like the flowers smile at sunshine. Her eyes squint as her face cajoles a beautiful smile that is full of hope. I also see kids playing football, galloping with energy and in innocence, warming up for the future they are to give us. With pure energy, they exhibit undaunted spirit for our future. Three children stand with sm...

I have no internet at home.  When we first moved to our house I desperately tried to get internet and television connections. I bought a satellite TV receiver but the location of my house and the signal didn't comply. I and two of my friends from school carried the signal receiver and made rounds of my house and surrounding, searching for the TV signal but the signal was illusive and shy. My friend, the TV expert, concluded that the signal was blocked by a hill above my house. For the internet connection I requested a friend of mind, a Bmobile employee, and even wrote an application to the manager but my location and area was not on the Bmobile investment list. So, the post I post on my blog are squeezed through little windows of time I find in my teaching schedule. Though I enjoy being able to post, I must say it takes away my time. The time that is meant for notebook correction and continuous assessment marking. Without the internet and television, me and my family, are ignora...

As a student I never thought how my body language, my facial expression and my participation in the classroom would dictate my teacher's enthusiasm in teaching me and my friends. May be it was because the teaching then was only about the teacher. The students had to simply listen. I sometimes wonder how I would have been if my teachers had involved me in the learning. I was always a quiet boy in the class. Even when I knew the answer I would muffle my desire to speak out. But as a teacher I cannot stand zombies in my classroom; there are few in every class. Their dreamy eyes droop like rich poppies, heads are supported in their cupped palms, loosely sit in their stiff wooden chairs and I can always tell who smells dead in my class. It is sometimes interesting to have zombies in the class because they give you the excuse to stop for a while and talk about things other than the textbook. Everything is interesting but the text. But the teaching must go on. So: 1. Attentio...

Our Dzongkha Lopen walked into the classroom and we stood up to wish him. We were doing revision and each student had to memorize stanzas of the poem-like text, write it on the board, read it and explain it to the class. He nodded and we took it for permission to sit down. Though the day was bright and pleasant, it contrasted with his mood. We could tell he wore his wrathful face that day. I was nervous and scared, as it was my turn to write and explain the stanzas. He sat on his chair and called my name after running through the name list. I walked up towards the blackboard and received the chalk in my cupped hands from him. He gave me a mocking chuckle that, to me said, “Here comes the stupid no-nothing tsagay (fool)”. I had not memorized my stanzas, though I had some idea about what they meant after consulting with a friend who was good at Dzongkha.   I did what I had to do. When I finished my task, the first look on his face was sheer bewilderment....

My son loves ghost stories. I try my best with the few ghost stories that I know and when I run out I have to create them. Most of the time before I finish a story he falls off to sleep but there was one story that we were able to finish. Image from www.ramayanainfo.blogspot.com Dangphu   dingphu… there lived a demon. He had ten heads. The demon, Doe as we Bhutanese know it, was very strong and intelligent and it was all because he had ten heads. He could think ten times faster than an average demon and all his senses were ten times stronger and clearer than other demons. He had long hair on all his heads. He had fangs in all his ten mouths. He had ten pairs of bulging bloody eyes and ten pairs of huge sharp ears. Strong and powerful as he was yet these powers came with unbearable itches that his heads underwent every moment of his life. He did the best he could to get rid of the problem but every remedy failed to redeem him from his troubles. Tak...

Image from www.lisagetz.blogspot.com The first spoons were of gold, forged in the heavenly blue fires of the Gods (Lha). Men were brute then and dinning manners unknown. Happy as the Gods were beholding man, it deeply troubled them to watch a man feed. Thus, the Gods counseled among themselves to resolve this brutish eating manner and gifted the first of their spoons to the first kings of men. Beings from all the realms witnessed and glorified the Gods for their noble deed. But not everyone was with the same mind and heart. Some disapproved of man's worthiness and claimed the civil hand for themselves secretly fearing the Gods' wrath if they openly laid their claim. The desire lurked like the long dark shadows of the deep woods and drew darker and stronger lines with the light from the godly moon. Image from www.pureinsight.com The  Lhamoens ( Lesser Gods)  were the feistiest and fiercely nurtured their desire to lay their hands on the spoons. It was they who defied...

Picture by Botho, my sister The sky from the window looked somber my father said. He had fallen asleep after a glass of ara on that Sunday afternoon. He was alone as we were at Thimphu that winter.   The room had become dark except for the shade of light that fell on the floor, which shone from the streetlight and the moon outside. He stretched and got up to get out of bed. As he got up, a man was facing him standing in front of him in his bedroom. He could not make out the features. The room was dark. The man glared at him, they stood watching each other for some time. My father said all he felt at that moment was sheer cold fear. The hair at the back of his neck rose in bumps. His heartbeat in his head and he could hear the beating wild and fast. Words choked in his throat and he couldn't speak. He said it was like an invisible hand throttling him as he gasped for air.   It lasted like it seemed for hours. Slowly he tried to push himself out of bed an...