Tuesday, May 3, 2016

The Pain of Growing Up in Thimphu

I look back at my childhood with blissful happiness filling my heart and if I could, I wouldn’t hesitate to go back and live there again. Cornfields, and a small orchard of different tropical fruits surrounded our house. During summer, the air was filled with sweet natural odour from fruits and flowers, and our ears were naturally lent to music from different insects and birds. Right next to the fields lay abundant forests, unrestraint and free. We feared of the tigers, wild boards and foxes. We lost a few cattle to tigers, and corns and paddy to wild boars. It was hard work but we reaped abundant grains, vegetables and fruits. Some might think it is a life without happiness, filled only by backbreaking work. I don’t doubt my parents toiled, but in all my childhood, I did not see sadness creasing on their faces. In fact, my mother told us that we were blessed to have abundant food.

As children, what is more important is a good place to grow up—with free spaces to play and run around, shout and scream all to our hearts content, soil our clothes, dig mud, jump in the muddy puddle, or play with insects, or anything natural without an adult’s interference. And that is exactly what I had as a child. I pity my daughter who is supposedly born in a better time. I empathize her when she laments of getting bored every single day.

I let her go to our neighbors’ houses to play with their children. I take her to my friends’ house whose daughters are her friends. I take her to the park. I play with her numerous times everyday. But she sinks in boredom the minute I have to attend to something and can’t give her company. Is it really because she is accustomed to the fast images of electronic games and videos? One day, she comes back from a neighbor’s house and tells me this: “I told my friend that I will come back, but she asked me not to. Why is it mummy?” I have to give in to her requests, but I do fear that the neighbors may not like to have her come to their houses frequently. When she sees their kids playing outside, she rushes out but her excitement gets crushed when they refuse to play with her. As a mother, I want to bring her back inside and pamper her right away, but this is how she must grow up. So I hold my heart tight and let her stay—praying that she will pick up the right social traits and she will grow up strong.


I am not boasting when I say I might be one of the many mothers who give a major chunk of her time to her daughter. I do. And yet, when she rolls in the boredom she says she is in, I can’t help wish we had a free space where she could enjoy everything I did as a child. She might have different dresses and food. She might have heard different fairy tales that I knew only when I could read myself and watched them come live without having to imagine but she still does not have what a child needs. I do not blame her for being bored. I do not blame her for getting restless. If only I could let her grow without the fear of cars running over her, or a stranger carrying her away, she would have what I did as a child, and I could simply watch her grow. But it is a deprivation, the price today’s children pay for growing up in a town, blessed with bountiful modern gadgets.

Thursday, December 31, 2015

The Layap's Hospitality


This post is long overdue. I visited Laya in April and I have been meaning to write about it for such a long time. But somehow, I couldn’t. It seems absurd that my excitement of it did not burst beyond the normal routine that ate up my time.

Anyway….

My office, the Centre for Bhutan Studies and GNH Research began its 2015 nation wide GNH Survey in January 2015. There were six survey teams: each team comprised of 11 enumerators, three drivers and one supervisor and one assistant supervisor. My team went to Samtse, Samdrup Jongkhar, Tashigang, Punakha and Gasa dzongkhags. The survey questionnaire was revised and it was shortened to 147 questions from 249 questions from 2010 survey questionnaire. But it still took 1 and half hours on average to complete one interview. I will not repeat the nine domains of GNH and any other aspects. For those of you who are interested more in GNH, please visit www.grossnationalhappiness.com

We were in Gasa district towards the end of March. The Layaps move to Gasa to escape the harsh winter in Laya and settle there for a few months – also witnessing the annual Gasa Tshechu. Towards April, most of them go back. It was because of this coincidence that my survey team could contact many of the respondents’ household in Gasa and only five of us had to go to Laya to interview those households who had already returned.

We teamed up with the election commission’s team that was going to Laya to conduct the election of Tshogpa. However, we gave up the hope to get to Laya on the same day like them. We took eight hours to reach a place called Koina (originally called the Ku nye sa – the place to take rest – it is at this place that Zhabdrung Ngawang Namgyal took rest on his way to Bhutan from Tibet. There is a chair like stone near the river where Zhabdrung rested).  The government of Bhutan has constructed a small one storeyed guesthouse at this place run by a government paid caretaker. Everyone moving between Laya and Gasa take rest here – while some stop only for lunch or tea and snacks, others like us stop to halt a night. The caretaker is from Laya and he was in RBA. His wife is from Tsho Tshalo in Samdrup Jongkhar and they make quite a home there for the travellers. Despite our tiredness, our mood lightened up and felt doubly welcomed when we were joined by a group of Layaps – among whom two were our respondents from the previous day. Quite naturally, we felt akin to them and we shared the resources for dinner – in fact, it was them who gave us their ration, including cheese, which is a rare specialty when we have to travel on a long journey.

The guesthouse had enough blankets to fight the cold and we had a good night. The next morning, we left at 8 a.m. and reached Laya at around 4 p.m. By the regular traveller’s standard, we had walked at a snail’s pace but we were quite happy we made it. We packed lunch and ate on the way by a stream, sitting in the light drizzle. We hardly enjoyed the lunch but we had to eat to keep ourselves strong for the journey. We were served tea by the RBA stationed before reaching Laya called the Tashi Makhang. Those of you who are travelling to Laya for the first time must be aware that you need a letter (called the pass) and you have to show it to the person on duty at this army camp.
After two days, it is at this place that you get the mobile signal. All of us called home to inform that we had no problem on the journey and would be reaching Laya in two hours. In reality, we took longer and before we reached the village, it started to snow and we stepped into our destination cold and unsure of what the tomorrow would be like.

But, the Gewog ADM, who happened to be related to me through marriage, was very kind and arranged everything for us.

The second morning greeted us with a blanket of snow around us. We all felt jubilant by the sight and we went on with our work despite the difficulty it posed for us.
After two days in Laya, we went to Lugo, two hours walk from Laya village. We put up with our respondent we met in Koina called Aum Pego. She is by nature talkative and opens up easily and that is why we felt comfortable with her from the start. All of us put up at her house in Lugo and while there, we also went to her sister in-law’s house who treated us with tea and gave us chugo (dried cheese) on parting. What will surprise you is their hospitality and the resources. They have packed rice, blankets, mattresses and grocery items stacked up against the wall to the ceiling. They surely would survive in the times of calamity.

Aum Pego had sought help from one of the teachers (Dzongkha teacher) from her community school to prepare dinner and breakfast for us. They had also packed our lunch for the day’s journey. The house is usually not partitioned and all of us slept in a line in the room. She is two years younger to me but has three children already and seems strong and hardened by life. At dinner, what I noticed was that, contrary to her, her husband is quiet and sits next to her without much to add, while she talks almost exuberantly and flirtatiously to the teacher who had come to help prepare our dinner. She told us that he usually helps her household in cooking during the times of annual rimdro and other big gatherings.



What I would like to add is that, before you interact with them, you would feel that you are different from them, and as you come to know them, you will be surprised by how similar we all are. As humans, all of us have the same basic needs, and the same human values trigger the most humble and honest emotions. If not for their hospitality, friendliness and generosity, we would have enjoyed half our time there.
Laya Village
Preparation of dinner at Aum Pego's house
At the Gewog Guesthouse
Snow greeting us on the second day







Wednesday, December 16, 2015

I will be a beneficiary

I just read the following:


I can't contain my happiness right now. I feel like I am finally seeing better days coming my way. When I was expecting Dechen, my daughter who will be five years old in just four days, there was discussion of maternity leave being extended to four months from the existing three months. I looked forward to it with fervent hope, my expectation overriding the reality. And then, it didn't happen. 

But this time, I am going to be a beneficiary of the six months mandatory paid maternity leave and the six months flexi time. My baby could not have come to me at a better time. This makes me feel that he/she is lucky -- despite the Bhutanese's belief of the coming year not being the best one. I have never believed in it so much anyway--will the year we are born in determine who we become? I don't think it will. 

Anyway, I am not here to justify that my baby is going to be the lucky one despite his/her zodiac sign. I am here today to thank the government, policy makers and the stakeholders who had input in finally endorsing the extension of maternity leave. A working mother like me welcomes nothing better than this news. 



Thursday, November 19, 2015

I'm sorry darling

                                                                                     19th November 2015
Dear Dechen,

I can’t believe that I have not written to you for almost a year. I am writing today more with heartache and remorse over my own behavior than yours. I just reached office after dropping you to your daycare centre and I am still fresh with tears, my nose red and swollen. Your daddy is gone on a tour and it is just you, your ani, abi and me at home. For the past three days, it was a peaceful morning and evening and we were in our best mood. We were telling each other that we seemed to be sleeping more soundly when daddy was not there. And then, as if some unseen force was jealous of this whole peace and happiness, it came crumbling down this morning.

It wasn’t until you were about to dress to go to your daycare centre that it started. Your centre has a fluorescent tracksuit uniform and it is only on Wednesday that you can wear a casual dress of your choice. But today, I however had to tell you that you wouldn’t be wearing this uniform because I had forgotten to wash your pants yesterday and it wasn’t in a presentable condition to wear this morning. But, despite that choice you have, you insisted that you must wear the ‘gir pe nakhan jama’ – the blue dress that has fringes that can spin as you turn around. It has become your favorite and you wore it yesterday. I had to object because you wore it yesterday and it was dirty. It was like we were playing tug of war – you wanted it and I didn’t. And I had to win because at that moment, I so strongly felt that you should not wear it. No amount of my reasoning worked and I screamed and threw tantrums that I am ashamed to even think of right now. You and I both cried and you calmed down a bit when you saw me cry.

Despite your reluctance to eat breakfast earlier, you then nagged that you wanted to eat. You ate just four spoons of rice though. You agreed to wear the pink dress with Anna and Elsa’s picture that you recently received as a present from Lasem’s dad and mom and we were at the centre right when children were making a queue to celebrate birthday of one of them. As I write this letter, I can’t take your expression out of my mind and I feel like crying again. You seemed so meek and obedient as you walked next to me and you didn’t have your usual excited look. I am sorry I made you feel at wrong. I now feel that I could have let you wear the dress you wanted whether it was dirty or not and none of this fuss would have happened. I realize  that I was more concerned about what others would think, which in fact is immaterial to you. I am sorry. And I am sorry again.

But you know darling, if I must let you have your way with everything, I might end up having to see you grow up as a daughter that I wouldn’t want. You must have some kind of discipline and you must also know that what your dad and I tell you is for your sake and not ours. But despite all this, I feel, I was at wrong for this morning’s fuss and I remain full of remorse.
I hope you know that I love you, no matter what fuss we go through.

Love, Mum


P.S. Apart from this fuss of half an hour this morning, I had been meaning to write to you. You had so many questions for me from the time you knew that you are going to be an elder sister. You sing lullaby to the baby and ask me questions such as how the baby is going to come out; how baby could get inside my belly; if baby would burst out if he/she kicked so hard and many more. You tell me about how you are going to help me bathe and feed her/him as well and we in fact look forward to the days of bubbly happiness once more. In some ways, I feel sad that you will have to be responsible and not nag me as much as you do now. But of course, I would love you just the same.

Tuesday, October 20, 2015

Change in Job for a Year

The organisation I work for has the norm of changing administrative officer on rotation basis. The turn came to me for the 2015-2016 Financial Year. When it was decided that I would be looking after the AFD for this financial year, I didn't say no -- not because I had wanted to be an ADM but because to say no would be disobedience to the head of my organisation. 

And so here I am. ADM for a year. Unlike other offices, it should be relatively easier for me because we are only 32 staff, including ESP. But it is quite a different experience altogether. You have to worry about all the nitty gritty things such as not having water in the toilet to the administration of the staff. You become more a logistic manager for the office and it is not such an easy job. For now, I am trying to take it positively because all of us have to be managers at this age after being in job for 10 years or more. 

I now understand what my Dasho meant when he told us that he sometimes woke up in the middle of the night and remembered things that we had left pending and he couldn't fall back to sleep. It happens to me sometimes. I have to then start noting them down in my mobile phone notepad so that I don't forget them the next day. 

As administrative officer, you have to work with Royal Civil Service Commission a lot and so far, I have tried my best to do what I have to on time and I have submitted all documents they have asked without delay. Sometimes you would wonder on the number of letters you receive from them, but you console yourself saying, if it can task you like that to deal with just one organisation, how much harder it would be for them that has to deal with all the government organisations. And I am here to comply. I appreciate them for accepting the documents by email -- making it easier for me and saving lot of man times and fuel. (I would urge all the organisations to do that). 

Anyway, I am late in the office right now -- and it is because I am an ADM. I have come to appreciate administrative officers a lot better and I know what a tedious, tiresome job it is. It is not that demanding on your intellectual but I don't really enjoy seeing papers piling on my table. 

If you have thought being manager/administrative officer is a cup of cake, you better think again. It mostly needs soft skills and they don't come at a go. 

//This note is written feeling a little tired over the number of negotiations I had to go through for some work.