A Lonely Journey to the US (Part IV)

(links to: Part III)

Cell phone glued onto my right ear, I aimlessly walked on the grassy land.

“Please God, let us talk for the last time again,” I said prayer silently. Luckily, she picked up the phone.

“Oye (Hello)!”

“Hello! Where are you, still here?”

“Yeah, at Paro waiting for the flight! What are you doing today?” I asked her in a subdued tone.

“Nothing; I don’t feel like doing anything. I am at home, can’t study,” she replied.

“Oh is it? Don’t worry my dear, we will see happily after four years. Do study well all right?”

“Hope you will keep all those promises you have made to me, but anyway I will wait and see. I started to miss you already!”

“Of course, don’t you trust me?” I answered with a question.

“So far I have never trusted anybody like I trust you. Don’t forget me!”

The conservation just got deeper and more emotional. I promised her I won’t forget ever and together we prayed for our healthy relationship. In the meantime, the whole Paro valley shook by the thunderous sound as the Druk Air plane appeared out of nowhere from the tall Mountains, and landed on one of the scariest Airports in the world-Paro International Airport. I learnt that only those specially trained pilots with sufficient familiarity with the local geography are certified to fly to this airport.

Knowing that my wait won’t be that long now, I called off my sweet heart. How saying ‘Goodbye’ was such a hard task!

My niece teased me about flying with that white aircraft which just landed.

“Khochung (Uncle), are you happy to fly now?”

I smile back, but I was actually so nervous and shaking like a sick person fighting with a dreadful Parkinson’s disease! The same lady called me in again to check my cabin baggage in. When I reached inside an abnormally cold room, she drilled me as to what and how to go about through the security check. I thanked her and headed to the left side of the terminal building. I thought she was following me, but she had others like me to attend to, quite understandably.

I saw scores of people in line going through the security check-one at a time. I followed the suit and walked past the x-ray machine when a guy stopped me suddenly. He told me to take off my handbag and put through the x-ray machine. I obediently took off the bag, and placed on a roller feeding the machine. By then the people who were in front had already been cleared and long gone. Feeling lost at that place, I looked around like a baby deer abandoned by his mother in a thick jungle. Soon a guy from the side of room pointed to the direction where I was supposed to be headed. I was about to step onto the next phase of the security check when a gentleman tidily dressed in a neat black uniform with round cap, like that of an Army officer, saluted upon seeing me!

“Kuzu wai! (Hello, Good Morning!)” He greeted me.

...to be cont'd

Bumthang ‘Charm-Fire’ (Chamkhar)?

Bumthang is known for its natural beauty blessed by numerous saints and lamas including the second Buddha Guru Rinpoche. From Kurje Lhakhang to Mebartsho, Bumthang indeed is a land of Charm. But unfortunately the charm is under attack by fire as of late. The Chamkhar town, which is now third in a row gutted down by the disastrous fire accident, has raised so many eye brows across the nation. The very first accident garnered a nation-wide sympathy, while second one raised a few questions/suspicions, and I am sure now this third one would raise ever more questions and eye brows!
Why just in the Chamkhar town? Is Chamkhar town electrified differently? Are people being stubbornly careless with electricity? Is our disaster management proactive or reactive or more importantly prepared enough to fight with such a catastrophe? If it was an electric short-circuit, are our electric appliances or wiring safe? So on and on…These are the very pertinent questions that everybody should be pondering on.

Electricity is a good servant but a bad master, we are being cautioned thus. Of course only if it was taken that seriously, neither does Gyelpoi Zhimpoen’s office have to be on toes (all the time) nor would the Chamkhar town have to be rebuilt thrice in two years! These unfortunate repeated fire accidents have generated both sympathizers as well as suspicions. The Opposition Leader has twitted, “1st fire in Oct. 2nd in Feb. 3rd this morning. All 3 started at abt 2:30 AM. Strange. Residents suspect arson caused this morning’s fire”. Yes its strange! Could the investigation team be able to come up with any conclusive findings that would be necessary to help better respond to such accidents in the future? Let us wait and see!

National Assembly is in session now, and I don’t know if they are going to discuss anything new and concrete, particularly on the disaster management. We often say we Bhutanese take things cautiously learning through mistakes. But we have already seen so many problems and mistakes, how long are we going to wait to correct the mistaken things and put some safety measures in place? It is high time the concerned authority raised the alert level, and framed a rule for a mandatory requirement of Fire extinguisher and the smoke detector in every house all across the nation. Accordingly, educate and train the people on handling those equipments, so that they don’t have to fully rely on the under manned fire-fighters and fire trucks. Fire accidents are preventable and we should be fully aware of how to prevent it!

Until and unless something drastic is carried out, there will be many Chamkhar towns in waiting across the nation. Hope this fire accident was purely accidental, but if the investigation team finds otherwise, justice should be prevailed and necessary action carried out!

May God Bless Bhutan, and my condolences to all the people affected by the latest accident!

A Lonely Journey to the US (Part III)

(Links to: Part I, Part II)

As our car accumulated more and more mileage towards the destination (the airport), the breathtaking beauty of Paro valley unfurled itself naturally.

“No wonder foreigners pay USD 250 per head per day to visit our country,” I convinced myself.

I was still challenged with my speech, though; neither did I scream for joy nor cry out loud for departing with my loved ones. I did that all by myself in complete silence!

Shortly into the Paro valley the Paro International Airport came to my sight-the green roofed terminal buildings, and the only runway running parallel to the road leading to the main Paro downtown. The gate welcomes us into the airport compound; this time even more welcoming as our car rolled in full speed straight towards the entrance. I remember and agree with how a tourist described his first experience on the road right after landing on the soil of Bhutan. Loosely paraphrasing, the tourist wrote, “The first half a kilometer or so of road from the airport is almost insulting (misleading?)…That smooth and straight road comes to an complete end…” adding that if you already thought the roads in Bhutan are wonderful going by that section of the road, you are wrong, the remaining journey are nowhere close to that; instead be prepared for a rollercoaster ride.

Like he said, the double lane straight approach-road provided us a finest approach to the airport. Our car momentarily came to a halt right at the entrance and brother Sangay quickly pulled my bag out from the trunk. Our driver was nothing like a regular cabbie; he not only looked professional in conduct but also was caring like my immediate family members. I thanked him for rising up so early and driving us till airport. Surprisingly he offered to wait for my sister, niece and my brother even if it took more than an hour or so. Basically he was going to wait until I took off.

While he was headed to the parking lot, a lady in a clean navy blue dress approached us from the building. Later I came to know that she is a good friend of Anna Karma who is working for Druk Air. My sister introduced us. She looked active and friendly. She took my only bag from my brother for check in. I shook hands with my brother, patted on my 2^nd grader niece, and Anna as I bade farewell to the final lot of my loved ones! My newly met lady friend had already passed the gate and was waving at me, so I followed her hastily like a baby running after an escaping mother. Breaking into a sweet smile, she asked me to hand her my passport and the ticket. I nervously unbuttoned my handbag dangling diagonally from my shoulder, and handed her the required documents she asked for. She placed my bag on the counter, attached a few papers on it and pushed into the scanning room. My big black bag rolled helplessly into the room. She came towards me and asked me to stay outside or inside since my flight was not until 10:00 AM or later depending on the weather. In fact, the Aircraft, which would take me, was on the way to Paro, she told me. She walked me out till where my brother, Anna, niece and our driver stood. They were little surprised to me again shortly after our departure (lol). We sat down on the green lawn in front of the entrance and created some last minute fun moments. Both my brother and sister advised me to be cautious while traveling alone and at the same time assured me that everything would be all right. I felt comforted in that moment, but how I so wished I had someone accompanying me.

Talking of accompanying, I had already begun to miss my girl friend. Running almost three years in a relationship, I have drawn comfort, inspiration, and happiness from her all day in and day out. We just cursed the cruel fate for making us lead into two different directions. Right then, I thought I should call her for the last time. I remembered the other day I recharged my cell phone worth of Nu. 500 so there should be some balance. I had used some minutes calling my friends, relatives, and family who were in my contact list. Just before I went inside for baggage check in with the lady, I had given my cell phone to Ata Sangay. So now I needed it back to see if I could get hold of my darling. I excused from them, stepped aside and dialed to the person whom I never get tired of talking.

....to be cont'd

P.S. Please leave your valuable feedbacks below, help me correct some grammatical mistakes or nonsensical phrases/sentences!

Our Royal Wedding!

HM & would-be-queen Jetsun Pema
Picture courtesy: Bhutan Observer

It was 2 AM, and I was on the bed when I suddenly felt like checking the twitter updates. The first thing I saw was just unbelievable. I couldn't believe for a while, but as I scrolled further, I saw few more similar updates-The HISTORIC update indeed about the "Royal Wedding"! Immediately the next prominent question popped up in my mind "who could be that future Queen?" A few more scrolls down, I found someone already twitted "HM to be married with a commoner Jetsun Pema..."

Normally I don't miss to listen to HM's speech and other important events on live BBS radio from the internet. Being away from country, I rely heavily on the online news for the updates about the country and the world.

But last night when I saw the updates, I had already missed the live speech! Because I didn't know that the National Assembly Session was beginning from yesterday. None of the new papers reported or provided hats up about the coming up of the Parliament session this week.

Although I can always find the recorded audio or video later on, you don't get the real feel as the live speech!

So thats my rant on the new papers! (lol)

But all in all, looking forward to our Royal Wedding and already excited about the month of October!!

In the meantime, thanks twitter for enabling us to share a real time news and events!

A Lonely Journey to the US (Part II)

(Picture courtesy: Google Images)

(Link to: Part I)

They were all seated at the back seat and kept the front seat for me. I gestured to my Ata to sit on the front seat to which he stubbornly declined without even a word. As I stepped onto the sit, the driver (Anna’s co-worker) turned the engine ignition bringing ‘our car’ into life in a roaring fashion. After tapping a few times on the gas pedal (accelerator) oozing out a thick smoke from the rear exhaust, it rolled to a full momentum meandering along the road above Zilukha Lower Secondary School. Just as it was about to make a U-turn at Chophel-Jungshina-Zilukha tri-junction, my phone beeped. It was from my long time friend Kinzang Chophel whom at that time was training for traditional physician (Menpa) at Institute of Traditional Medicines, the only institute in the country catering to people of traditional Tibetan diagnosis and medication. We have been friends since 4^th standard at Tsebar Lower Secondary School, under Pema Gatshel district. During our stay in Thimphu after being graduated from high school, we had spent time together here and there, but at the last hours, we couldn’t meet since we were both caught up in our own busy world. I assured him that it was okay and that I would write to him from the US after seeing him crying over the phone. I bade him farewell, and dialed again to my mom and dad who were already up waiting for my call at Khawar goenpa, a village under Khar geog, Pema Gatshel District. As I heard their voice from that small mysterious device, I broke down into tears but quickly realized that it was not good to cry. My dad, a clergy, informed me that the journey would be safe and peaceful for he had already performed all the rituals necessary to ward off the evil spirits and to please our protective deity. I called them off, and immediately dialed to my uncle Jangchuk and Aunt Pema. They were also up and like not taking anything into granted, my uncle (a clergy like my dad) was also performing a “serkem”-a ritual to please the protective deity for my safe journey to a place unknown. I could hear him reciting the prayer and in time also answering to my call.

Meantime our Maruti Taxi has already entered the Thimphu downtown through the Zorzin lam. The street was quiet, fresh, and clean unlike the normal hours, which becomes dusty, busy and crazy! Just about the first ever five-Star hotel in Bhutan-Taj Tashi, our car made a left turn cruising down hill till the roundabout from where it took a right turn and headed in a full speed. The town was still quiet and about to mature out of dawn that made us difficult to recognize those early risers: some logging and some merely walking along the street. But two men looked rather familiar to me, so I stopped our quiet yet very friendly looking driver. Two men who I later recognized as Khochung (uncle) Yongba and Khothkin Bogar, approached us seeing me waving at them. After we exchanged a few words, we hit the road once again; this time in full speed on the only expressway in Bhutan towards Paro. The chilly wind of the Semtokha valley drove my sleep away completely, and the valley offered a spectacular scene of Thimchu (wangchu river) snaking down the valley.

However, I can easily say that it was the most emotionally challenged and boring trip I have taken thus far. There was a total silence in the car except the roaring of the car and the hissing sound of the approaching wind! Time to time I looked back in quest to break the silence, but I couldn’t utter anything. I lost my speech, literally! All three of them were facing at the different directions as if to hide their tears or something else. Of course, that’s exactly what I had to do. Soon we were on a dusty and bumpy section of the road leading to the Chuzom checkpost. The road alignment and a work to upgrade the previous single-lane road to double-lane in preparation for the most important event in the history of Bhutan-the coronation of the Fifth King by Project Dantak was in full swing. The driver bravely maneuvered around, negotiated the turns and snarling potholes and in about 8 AM we entered the beautiful Paro valley.


....to be cont'd

Conversation with a curious eye doctor!

My eyes have been bothering me even more lately, however I couldn’t go for checkup until today. I was recommended to wear glasses during my first eye exam in 2009, subsequently which I wore glasses. But as of late it seems to give me more problems than solutions to my already poor vision. I get terrible eye pain often leading to dizziness and headache. Despite sensing the deteriorating health of my eyes, I had been forced to put up with the same old glasses and continue to push my academic requirements first.

Now that I am officially done with the studies, first thing that I wanted to address is my eye problem. So today my Peruvian friend Bryan took me to the ‘Eyeglass World’ store for check up. I had an appointment at 3 pm with the doctor. At the counter, I was greeted by a lady receptionist and escorted to the doctor’s room after doing preliminary exams.

“Doctor will be here in a minute,” says she as she returns to the counter with a file. I nodded and took the seat right next to strange looking machines (equipments for eye exams).

Shortly after, the doctor walks in with his eyes fixed on the file he was carrying presumably the information that I provided.

“Hello, I am Dr. Stein. Nice to meet you!” He introduces and offers me a handshake.

“Hello Doctor, nice to meet you too!” I responded.

Seeing me wearing glasses already, he asks me if it was okay to “take a look”. I almost immediately took off and handed it to him. He leaves the room with my glasses and returns after a minute wiping the lenses with a piece of cloth.

“Why are you here for today?” And he continues, “You already have glasses. Do you have other problem?”

“I got this glasses in 2009, so I am assuming it’s a time to change. Moreover I am getting terrible eye pain and headache.”

He nods as he assembles the equipments and places on me. As usual he makes me look through the lens and instructs me to read the letters displayed on the board attached to wall.

“Where are you from?” He asks me while he writes down the exam results.

“Bhutan” I replied. Seeing his confused look I added, “It’s a very tiny country between Indian and China”.

As expected he scratches his head with his right hand, mumbles and finally says, “Then this could be Tibet?”

“No, it is not, but we are neighbors,” I fired back.

He nods and cleans the lenses simultaneously, after which he directs me to look through the lens and tell him “which one looks clearer”.

“Look, what I am curious about is that why Tibet is under China now.” He continues, “Do you think Tibet was a part of China ever? Is that why China took it over?”

Not knowing how to answer that question given a very little idea about the Tibetan history or Chinese for that matter, I simply said “Well, I might be kinda biased with what I am saying, but personally I feel like Tibet should be independent because from what I heard Tibet was an independent country ruled by a dharma king for ages!” Of course, deep inside, I knew I had no concrete backings whatsoever to what I have just said. But he will not simply take what I just said; instead seem to have triggered him more.

“So your country has Buddha Monks?” he asks me.

“Yeah, it’s a predominantly Buddhist kingdom.”

“Oh Tibet is also Buddhist country, isn’t it? There are so many Buddhist monks!” He says as he scribbles down something on a yellow paper.

“Yes that’s true,” I supported him.

“But why all of a sudden Chinese decided to kill those monks and take over the country? What did those monks do that Chinese didn’t like?” He quizzes me as If I am a political analyst or historian.

“Honestly, I don’t know! But still today the monks are being tortured and killed by the Chinese government every year as per the news,” I answered him in concerned tone.

“I know right,” he agrees with me. “You are just next to Tibet, and you still don’t know anything about that?”

I felt so ashamed! Luckily there were only two of us in his room. At first I didn’t know how to tackle that, but soon I recomposed myself.

“I guess all those problems happened in 50’s, so its hard for me to know!” signaling that I was born much later in case he has doubted me for a 60 or 70 year man (lol). But as it turns out, that was not his concern at all.

“Yes it has happened in 50’s, but not that long to be forgotten!” Of course he is right. “Does Bhutan have a good relationship with China?”

“I think so, kind of.”

“Your country being just next to China, aren’t you not worried about China doing just like what they did to Tibet? If they could do to Tibet and get away with it, do you think they would worry about doing to any other countries?” He sounded genuine.

I saw myself dump founded for a moment with that question.

“I hope they don’t do! Of course other countries are not to be fully trusted either, just like how they react to the Tibetan’s endless pleas. They don’t want to mess up with China given its economic super power, so they don’t dare bring up the issue with Chinese government whatsoever even if they support Tibetan!”

With that conversation my eye exam has come to an end. He tells me to wait at the counter while the receptionist checks me out.

“That will be thirty-nine ninety-nine ($39.99), how would you like to make a payment?” says a lady staring at me behind a Dell computer.

“Okay, by debit!” I handed her my Bank of America card.

I still don’t know if my eyes are healthy, but that conversation keeps striking me even now. I think he is right in every sense and we should be indeed worried about our country. Several national new papers have been reporting about dispute over border demarcation, which is yet to be settled between Bhutan and China, so hope the two governments will settle it with mutual respect and truer wisdom!

P.S. This was written yesterday but couldn't post until today!

A Lonely Journey to the US (Part I)

It was 5 AM when I woke to a chilly weather of Zilukha hill, Thimphu, Bhutan on October 7, 2007. I was bound for New Delhi and beyond to the US for studies. My flight from Paro International Airport, the only airport in the kingdom of Bhutan yet, was at 10:00 AM. I could hear Anna (sister) Karma already in the kitchen preparing breakfast and doing the dishes as I tried to ‘wipe’ off my sleep. I stepped off the bed slowly without disrupting Ata Sangay who was slept just next to me. He had come the other day all the way from the border town of Phuntsholing taking a day off to reach me till Paro.

After I took a brief shower, I woke him and let him in to the shower. Anna Karma had already prepared the breakfast of rice, pork curry with several other side dishes.

“Khochung (“Uncle”; she calls me like her daughter would call me as), eat well now. You may not feel well in the plane otherwise,” says my sister handing me a plateful of rice. I could already feel my poor early morning appetite, so I made her reduce the load and settled with the half of it.

Countless thoughts ran into my mind as I sat on the couch waiting for everybody to get ready: how will I travel myself, how does Paro valley look like (I had never been to Paro until that fateful day!), what if I get lost at Delhi Airport, how will I stay with new people…so on and so forth. As I pondered over those thoughts, Ata Sangay had already started journey with my huge black luggage bag on his shoulder, soon Anna Karma and Baby (niece Karma Lhazin Tshering) followed. All three of them were accompanying me till Paro Airport. Finally I pulled my handbag containing travel documents, and shook hands with Khotkin Nima as I bade farewell to him.

Stepping down the staircases from the third floor I felt very cold and sad!

“A lonely journey had just begun,” I thought.

For the last time, I dialed to my girl friend who was then studying in Nima Higher Secondarly School and residing in Langjophakha, a valley overseeing the majestic 17^th century fortress known as Tashichhodzong, which houses the throne room of the King of Bhutan, the main secretariat, and summer resident of HH Je Khenpo (the Chief Abbot) and central monastic body.

I listened to the ring tone of my Nokia phone (my first phone, a gift from Ata Sangay for passing class 12 successfully) as it connected to my girl friend’s phone.

After a few rings, she picked up “Hello!”

“Hello Sonam?! I’m leaving…stay well!” I tried controlling my emotion.

“Aii! Safe journey my dear. Please don’t cry!” I didn’t know I was silently crying over the phone until she said not to.

“Yaya (okay), bye!” I hung up the phone seeing my Ata, Anna and Baby already waiting in ‘our car’-a yellow topped and white bodied Maruti Taxi.


...to be cont'd


P.S. I have just started compiling my journals, so please leave your comments and necessary corrections below. Thanks!

Finally Graduated!!

Shaking hands with the President Dr. Anthony J. Catanese

It’s been a long journey, both bumpy and smooth, but eventually I made it through

My alarm began to beep rather obnoxiously; it was 7 AM, Saturday morning of May 7, 2011-the commence day! I had to be 'checked in by 8:30 AM' according to the email received earlier the other day. In about 40 minutes later, I and my roommate (a grad student from Thailand) got checked in, and headed to the waiting room before we proceeded to the actual commencement hall. "What is your department and your last name?" stared a lady seated next to a bunch of files and ropes.  "Mathematical Sciences, Wangdi" I replied trying to spot my name on the check sheet. "Cum Laude!" says the lady handing me a little more than a meter long white-rope, "678 is your seat number". I didn't know what that rope was until a Chinese friend said "oh thats an award, congrats!" 

Moments later, I was in the waiting room flocked by soon-gonna-be graduates exchanging words and snapping pictures. I scanned through the neatly arranged rows of chairs looking for my seat and finally found my seat-at the very back (second last row). I greeted a very good friend of mine who was already seated a seat away from mine. Gradually more and more students in gown poured in and the hall packed. While some shy people like me remained quiet and silent, some seemed to have moment of their lives shouting and screaming at the top of their voice. A little overweight dirty blonde haired guy who was seated right behind me was the most vocal or outspoken. "Surprisingly, I am gonna miss you guys!" says he to his friends as a matter-of-factly and continues “Probably I am never gonna see you guys again!” An excited looking girl replies “I didn’t really like you guys that much, but surprisingly I think I am gonna miss you guys too!” A few laughs ensued.

In a meanwhile, a lady stepped on the podium and began to say something. I say ‘something’ because like many others who were seated at the back row, I couldn’t catch anything that she spoke. I could only hear someone shouting “Can you say that again?” or “What did you just say?” from the back.

The wait was so long that I already began to feel bored. My back began to pain, and at the left, I noticed my friend stuck in the same condition; her look conveyed it all. The situation couldn’t get any worse- sitting next to a smoker and putting up with his smoke-breath was awful. I am not being dramatic, but I felt dizzy seriously. My cheap Armitron watch registered the time as “10:00 AM” when we finally made a move in line: PhD candidates up in the front followed by Masters and Bachelors students. The sight of the train of graduates making their way into the commencement hall in line was so spectacular that I attempted to catch a shot when I suddenly heard a female voice “Hey, hey!” Disturbed, I looked back to find a red-haired girl smiling “Your shoes are very interesting-looking!” Not knowing if that was meant to be good or bad, I simply replied “Oh thanks!” without disrupting the move. On the way leading to the hall, we were greeted by professors and well wishers lined up along the path.

At 10:30 AM, we were in the hall seated on our respective seats surrounded by hundreds of people-someone’s family members, parents, friends, grand children, and kids. Shortly after the US anthem was sung, numerous speakers took their turn to the podium. One of the speakers, our university President Dr. Catanese informed the gathering “…today 1107 graduates are graduating in various fields…” and he went on to say some good things about university for the next thirty or so minutes. I didn’t have much complaint about him whatsoever, but the next speaker whom I didn’t even bother to check the identity bored everybody to death. His speech was not only long but ridiculously boring full of political issues. He even declared that “Obama is the smartest President ever to be seen…” crediting for cracking Osama Bin Laden! At one point I even wondered if he was campaigning for President Obama already. If it weren’t for a girl next to me who kept screaming, I would have dosed off into a deep slumber!

Of course, however, about an hour later his speech came to an end much to the relief of both graduates and audience! “FINALLY!” someone screamed from the crowd, sarcastically with the mixed of applauses. One by one the graduates were called on the stage, ‘Dr.’ title conferred to PhD candidates and others awarded the certificate. And the awardees made their way back to their respective seat. Unlike fellow graduates who had flocks of friends and family cheering and shouting their names when they were called on the stage, when my name was called, a complete silence ensued as expected! Sad! No ‘special person’ (as my friends like it to be put) for my graduation! How sad! Stepping on to the stage overlooked by thousands of people was both nerve-racking and exciting. “Great job!” the President, attired in a thick red gown and round black cap, congratulated me! On the way back I was made to pose several times and moments later I arrived back to my seat as a GRADUATE!