6 am

I was awoken by my phone that does not ring very often.  It was Dawa Dem.  She and her family were about to drive by on the way to her village.  She wanted to wave goodbye.  I dragged myself out of bed, put on my down jacket and went to the balcony just on time to wave goodbye to six little kids, two men and two class 9 students in the back of a pickup with mattresses and boxes they were taking back to the village. 

I shed real tears - briefly.  

Saying Goodbye

Damn it all. 

This afternoon I had two students and their younger siblings over for tea.  They gobbled up one of my rice cooker chocolate cakes.  

Two girls who have been oh so helpful all year.  Dawa Dem lives alone a lot of the year and looks after her 3 younger sisters.  She is 16 in grade 9, they are 12, 10 and 8 years old.  She cooks and cleans.  

Her parents are quite poor and their cardamon crop lost money this year - it was too dry. 

We walked this evening and she (sort of) told me about her kidney disease and how her father is quite sad because they cannot cure it.  She has not gone to the hospital in Thimphu for her check ups since 2012 because she does not like when they admit her.  It is unclear to me whether the disease is curable and they cannot afford it, or if it is not curable.  

I feel so helpless.  

I am aching to come back next year and teach her - she was SO responsive and dedicated in class, but had no time to do her homework.  Next year her younger siblings will stay in their village and go to the village school and she will be here as a boarder.

Dawa Dem running the school marathon

At the class picnic with Namgay and I

The class 9 and 11 students left today after their last exam. It was a wild exodus. Buses and taxis and walking.  Mattresses and suitcases and boxes.  All piled on top of vehicles and stuffed inside with the students.  Excitement and tears, although the Bhutanese do not cry a lot.  Durga Raj, who greeted me every morning with a lyrical "good morning ma'am,"  poked his head out of the bus and in the same musical voice cheerfully chanted "gooood bye ma'am." 

Good bye class 9B, C and D.  You have no idea of the impact you have had on me.  I will miss you terribly. 

 

Nonsensical

If some statements in my last post did not make sense, it was because I posted quickly and edited later.  Sorry.  You can re-read if you like :)

Sunday afternoon at the girls hostel.  Answering "doubts" 

The other nonsensical activity occupying my days is marking exams.  I have always struggled with exams; their meaning for me as a teacher and for the students.  The personalities that I know in the classroom often come out in exams and I even enjoy reading their essays.  However the purpose and value of the exam have perplexed me as a teacher.  I do not often learn anything new about the student's abilities and rarely do I see true improvement. 

In Bhutan class 9 English the 2 exams combined are worth 80 percent of their final grade. Sort of.  They write 2 exams at midterm and 2 annual exams.  The point is that each exam question does not have very much value and the work they do in class contributes a minuscule amount  to their grade.  In order to pass they need 40 percent (or 35 percent).  Not much.  As a result the marks hover between 40 and 55 percent for the majority of the students.  A few strong students make it to the 70's and I have actually seen some 80's.  At midterm I marked

a paper worth 92 percent.

I am perturbed by what they have not learned and what I have not been able to show them about the English language. 

I am encouraged by the fact that my extended lessons about not "vomiting" their ideas onto the page seems to have stuck.  Many of my students have managed to sort the potatoes from the chiles from the meat and have written essays where their ideas are quite well organized. 

So far I have understood every essay I have read  Have they improved, or do I understand dzonglish better now? 

They also wrote decent business letters.  Thank goodness.  I had no idea last term that they would "lay down a few lines for my consideration"  which resulted in "lying on some lines",  "laying under the line" and even more confusing: "lying down for me to consider."   Most of them actually got to the point of the letter in the first paragraph, or even in the first sentence. 

Some days I wish I had not become a language teacher and had stuck to something like science or math that would be so much easier to asses.  But then I would not get to lie down and consider student progress.

We took lots of photos and the girls want me to "wash " them - get them printed. 

Musings from my Road Trip and 9 Hour Bus Ride

As I was riding in the very back seat of the bus, bumping and swaying along the road, I was thoughtful about  leaving this country.  The views are stunning along the way.  Waterfalls, the himalaya, albeit shrouded in cloud, the trees, the rocks, the cliffs.  Quite an amazing place to build a road. 

What will it be like to go home?  To leave all of this behind?  I was asked on the first day Jon arrived what I was looking forward to when I get back to Canada.  I had not really thought about it.  Over that day I said things like a hot bath and the warm floors in my house.   Since then I have come up with a few more inane answers such as real red wine. 

Many of my BCF colleagues are having mixed feelings about leaving.  We are already feeling nostalgic.  I will never be in a place where the monks mingle with the people in the shops and on the streets, where they are a common sight.  Where prayer wheels and flags are everywhere.  It will seem stark at home without all of this. 

On the bus (9 hours is a long time) I also thought about my posting to Chukha and various other postings that I have visited.  As much as I have come to like it here, it still holds something that I cannot define.  After my travels with Jon I am quite content to be "home" doing some writing, cooking and reading.  However, the place itself does not leave me at peace.  When I am out of the townsites in places like Paro, Haa, Tshankha, I have this deep feeling of peacefulness.  It may be the mountains that tower around in the background. It may be that this place, Chukha, perched on the hillside above the jungle, houses restless spirits that take hold of me.  Who knows.  

I thought a lot about the education system, my involvement and my students.  I am thoroughly dissatisfied with what I have done this year.  One year is not long enough to become accustomed to the system and more importantly have the students get used to you.  I really think the year has been worthwhile for me and the students, but feel as though I could do so much more - for them; a reading program, speaking with more students, a speaking program, more improvement in their writing.  My list in endless.  I would like to contribute more to education on a national scale too.  Perhaps that is too arrogant. 

Students in the Multi Purpose Hall writing exams no lights

Today I can hear monks chanting and horns blowing.  These sounds I cannot bring home. 

Jon and Heather's Road Trip Part 3

I woke up to  a frosty morning in the Phobjikha Valley and went out for a short walk to explore where we might see the Black Cranes.  Actually I could hear them and so went to find the source of their racket. There is a huge marshy area in the middle of the valley.  Everything had heavy frost and was white.  The Black Necked Cranes winter in this valley at 3,000 metres and in the summer they are found on the Tibetan Plateau.  I saw them in the distance, waking up.  Although there is only one road in the valley, I got a bit lost on my way back to the guest house.  Jon and I had breakfast, chatted with the owner and marched off with our backpacks.  As we followed the road into the marsh we saw the tourists being let off to walk.  We had been told we could not walk in the marsh as it would disturb the cranes.

  So instead we took a ride in the back of a Bolero pick up truck, up out of the valley bottom to Gangtey Geompa and shedra.  A shedra is a monastic school.  The temple is old (1613 or 1618) and under repair.  The young monks were all studying and let us into the altar rooms.  It was fascinating. Apparently the llama or rinpoche lives further up on the hill.  We also did not see any of the older monks that we let off of the bus, so we assumed that they too live up in the fancier digs on the hill. We were told that the rinpoche's sisters run the guest house we were in and the swank resort that is above it.  

We walked up the hill and hitched a ride.  A German tourist I had said hello to that morning picked us up. We got a ride to the junction where we waited over an hour for a ride to Tshangkha where Sarah D lives. We went into her classroom to surprise her, led up the steep hill by her "naughty" grade 4 boys.  We met the students, sang songs, took photos and drank tea.  Jon had been looking for momos earlier that day and presto students had prepared a special tea with momos and we just happened to be there. 

We walked to the monastery where Sarah taught English to the monks for a very special tour. Back to Sarah's for dinner and scrabble.  The next morning I took the bus back to Chukha - a gruelling 9 hours on the back seat.  With amazing views of the mountains. Jon's adventure continued. 

Sarah's students

Sarah's room mate weaving

Jon and Heather's Road Trip Part 2

In Punakha I woke up and made Banana Bread in Sarah's rice cooker.  Burnt the bottom, but that seems unavoidable with cakes in the cooker.  Jon and I went to the Punakha Dzong, which I have now visited probably 5 times.  It is quite beautiful and imposing, sitting at the confluence of the MoChu and PoChu rivers (mother and father) The poinsettia trees are in bloom right now. 

We walked up the PoChu along a lovely trail that takes you past the crematorium where there was a funeral going on.  Then to the suspension bridge and a bit further with great views of the valley.  I have now seen the year of seasons and the bright green rice paddy fields are all brown again.  Jon took some video of the rice being threshed by hand. 

We had lunch in Bajo - at the same restaurant as the night before.  Jon ordered Dosa - which is south indian food and I really like it.  They tend to eat it for breakfast I believe, but it made a great lunch.  Dosa look just like a real Breton crepe, but are made from a flour that is a combination of rice and lentil flour. Potato masala inside. 

At 2 pm we "reported" to the bus.  Bus schedules have reporting time and departure time.  We watched the bus driver and his assistant change a flat tire, loaded onto an old creaky bus and were on our way along the bumpiest road, almost, I have been on yet.  (I think the road to Gasa wins the prize) The bus stopped at every corner store to pick up goods and people and at one point the bus was SO full I do not know how we climbed the passes.  On the way into the Phobjikha valley we stopped several times to let different groups off.  One crew had lots of luggage and filled a utility trailer pulled by a tractor - a common form of transport in farming areas. 

It was very dark when we arrived so two Bhutanese men from the bus ride walked us to our guest house.  I knew it was a small farm house that had bukaris (wood heaters) in each room  We were expecting a rustic situation, but it was warm, cozy, spacious and had hot showers.  Yummy dinner and nice woman who runs it. I had my best sleep in months - SOFT and comfortable mattress, cold air, warm duvet and blanket.  aaahhh

Jon and Heather's Road Trip Part 1

Jon and I left Chukha and went to Thomphu by bus.  We met Matt and Lucy, two Australian BCF teachers, for dinner.  We ate at the Mexican Restaurant, then went to Season's to buy bread and ended up staying for dessert.  Yum.  In the morning we met them again to drive up Dochula (they have a car).  We hiked up to Lungchuzekha Lakhang which is up the ridge from the pass.  I went there a month or more ago, but had no views.  Well this time the views were awesome.   These photos are on the way back down to the car.  The 108 chortens were commissioned by the 4th King after his battles with the Assamese rebels who were hiding in southern Bhutan in the jungle in 2002. 

It was an awesome day.  There were other "chillips" (foreigners) at the Lakhang and we were all served tea by the monks.  

After walking down Jon and I hitched a ride to Bajo where we bought tickets to Phobjikha for the next day.  It cost us 65 ngultrum each for a 3 hour bus ride.  The equivalent of one dollar. 

We had Indian food for dinner, bought some beer and took a taxi to Sarah Schmitt's house in Punakha.  Stories and laughter.  Punakha is hot during the day but that night was  chiiiilly. 

November 15th Annual Exams

Annual exams began today for classes 9 and 11.  Grades 10 and 12 will write Board Exams in December.  Board Exams are truly "high stakes" as there are limited seats both in class 12 and at university.  Students must do well in order to qualify.

Finals for 9 and 11 are important too.  If a student fails English, Dzongkha or Math, they fail their year and have to repeat.  There are also other combinations of subjects failed that result in the student being held back.  For example if they fail Geography and History plus one other course, they repeat the entire year. They must have 90 percent attendance in order to sit for their exams.  Because many students will attend university in India, much of the "style" of exams and studying is aligned with Indian education.  Memorize, memorize, memorize.  Students will write 1 or 2 exams per day for 2 weeks.  Each student will write:  3 sciences, Math, 2 English and 2 Dzongkha, Geography, History, Economics and IT.  Senior Geography and Sciences also have practical exams. 

For me exams mean supervising 4 or 5 mornings for 3 hours and then marking English papers.  English I is essay writing and grammar.  English II is literature.  It takes me between 80 and 100 hours to correct 240 papers. 

This time the exam period is also a bit melancholic for me.  I will be leaving Bhutan soon and am having some difficulty.  It is hard to believe the year is almost over.  It is sad to think I will not see these students again.  I'm struggling with the idea that I cannot follow through and keep on teaching them.  There are so many things I would improve / do differently / add to my teaching if I were to stay. 

What makes leaving even tougher are the blue sunny skies.  After months of FOG  and damp, it is now cold and clear.  The wind is harsh in the early morning but the sun warms up the cool mountain air and the layers slowly come off.  I have to remember to sunscreen my face every day as we sit outside on the grass to do our corrections.  The sun is intense.  The sky is brilliant.  The friends are priceless.

  

Jon in a Gho

This is Jon's attempt to wear National Dress.  He then went to the mess hall where the boys fixed him up immediately.  They asked why I had not helped him.  The thing is so impossible to put on . . . 

 Jon serving himself at the buffet.  There are 4 of those bigs pots every meal. Two contain rice, two contain a curry or emma datse.  There are also two more with dal.  

Jon then went to the hostel to visit the warden and see the life the boys lead.  He said it was surprisingly warm, especially the rooms on the sunny side of the building.  

Jon's first views of Bhutan

First views of Jonolharhi driving up the Chelela Pass road

Gangkhar Puensum  in Gasa - the far Northern border 

Drugyul Dzong ruins

My World of Contrasts

Every day I see huge contrasts: the medieval structures around me with satelite dishes, the monks with their I phones, going from my little house where I just turned off the internet to confront a cow on my doorstep. 

I am soaking up everything and trying to place it in my memory so I can find it when I am in Canada.  My students are starting to tell me how much they will miss me and they bring me little gifts: a couple of walnuts, a guava. 

Today was a beautiful sunny himalayan day and the staff all sits outside, cross-legged, on the lawn when they are not teaching. One fellow asked me all sorts of questions about life "over there".  Salary, where we live, how much petrol costs.  He has family in Texas, that he talks to often, distant cousins.  Many of the questions focussed on family staying and living together.  The Bhutanese have heard that we do not all live together as a family and that cousins may even stay in a hotel when they visit.  This is not really comprehensible to them as they all pile into two rooms- the altar room and the bedroom- no matter how many family members are visiting.  They are horrified that my mother is turning 80 and lives alone.  It is a daughter's - or in some cases son's  -responsibility to stay in the family home and look after the parent. In the past property was passed to the daughters.

Even those who have little share everything.  It is weird for me still, I am trying to share and be generous, but I don't think like they do.  They never put something in their mouths without offering it first, even if they are hungry. I have to make a conscious effort to bring biscuits or fruit to offer.  They cannot understand when I say no to food, as it is being offered, so it is polite to take some.  

Contrasts:  a Wealthy Yak herder's winter home.  They have 60 yaks. 

The rules are unspoken but structured - refuse an offer three times, then accept, so I have to remember to offer more than once.  Once you have taken, there is second share, which is also important. 

Solar panels and prayer flags.  Ancient belief and technology. 

We also talked about how their culture is evolving so quickly - from a medieval-like feudal system to a democracy within my lifetime. Beliefs form the biggest contrasts for me.  The same person will explain their belief about the mermaid deity in the lake nearby and be up to date on some new technology.  

Exploring the countryside I came across a well established settlement of road workers.  They live in corrugated metal houses with various amounts of "decoration".  This particular village was in a beautiful jungle and the inhabitants had cleared garden areas, painted some of the structures white, and used road materials to make a sort of cement interior.  Looking briefly into their homes and lives felt like travelling back through time 1,000 years.  Bare-footed children and women working and playing around open fires in dark rooms that were about 2 metres square.  Rooms shared with the chickens and goats. 

School Picnic

Not to be confused with the Class Picnic, the school picnic is for all 700 plus students.  Families of staff members are all invited.   The big event is the food, cooked outside over fires, supervised by the school cooks.  Chopping and stirring by student teams. 

A large tent was erected the day prior to the picnic and loads of firewood were hauled to the site.  It is about a 20 to 30 minute walk from school. As it was a school event, we had to wear National Dress, but not school uniforms.  Students brought clothes to change into for sports. 

What do you do at a picnic?  Hang out, play games sitting in little groups, volleyball, football, dance, sing solos on the BIG sound system, and eat.  There was also frisbee.  I brought 2 and they were in use all day. I forgot . . . another great past time is to ... Take Pictures of all of your Friends - in groups, with teachers - but always posing. 

These are great pictures as the fog was dense.  I could barely see - the white patches between people is actually fog between people not lousy photography. I smiled all day.  The next day Sarah said to me that I was not smiling enough in her photos and I realized my smiley muscles were tired. 

I wish I had said . . .

We all have those moments where we think  . . .     "If only I had said..."  

Imagine having the opportunity to speak with a King, a very special King. 

What I wish I had said: 

1.  Many people say to me in Bhutan that they are grateful and appreciate the fact that I have come here to teach.  That I have endured hardships to do so.  I have had an incredibly rich experience and I am the one who is most grateful for this opportunity  Without my time in Bhutan I would not have insights into the Bhutanese way, beliefs and how they approach their daily life. I have learned so much about your country, the people and the education system.  Far from hardship, it has been enriching. 

2.  His Majesty said in a speech to the graduates (Kuensel):  

“If we pay close attention to history, we tackled the same challenges that are being dished out at us today with conviction, fortitude, tenacity, wisdom and hard work,” he said.  “These elements have brought us to where we are today, and these are the very elements that will carry us forward.”

I see this wisdom and hard work every day at school.  I also see a place for intrinsic satisfaction for a job well done.  There is a structure of extrinsic reward in the school system.  I have thought a lot about helping students know intrinsically they have done a good job and feel proud of their work without being arrogant.  Rewards and punishment may need to give way to taking responsibility and feeling pride in personal achievement without those tangible rewards.  Because of Bhutanese fortitude, tenacity and wisdom, I believe the shift is within reach.  

And lastly, 

3.  Will you drop into my classroom on your way to Wangchu? 

There are things we wish we had said and things we know we could not REALLY say to the King.    

Awesome Weekend Photos

Me at the chorten where Brick, Sarah and I stopped.  I was fighting with the elevation - breathing hard, the entire day and did not think I had time or energy to make it to the peak you can see behind my head.  Talaka.  It was a beautiful, awesome hike even without the peak :) 

The peak

The view I did not get to see - looking south from Talaka - 6,000 metre high peaks in Dagana. . . 

Grey langur monkeys we hung out with on the side of the road driving home to Chukha 

  

View across the rad from the monkeys, YES we are in Bhutan.