A Dying Breed of Readers

Reading is to decode, understand, evaluate and foster knowledge and information. It leads to appreciation and understanding of the pluralistic nature of society, cultures, and values. Our people must read and access changing ideas and expressions.

Despite all the benefits books offer, Bhutanese are quite poor in reading habits. I would say reading habits have declined, owing to rapid development in our country. Bhutan has taken ‘a great leap’ within a short span of time, and this has affected our readers. Television, computers, the internet, and motor vehicles, among others, keep our youth occupied. Or are they conquered?

Just a decade ago, back in my village, when I was in my early teens, my family sat together and read religious canons, like Kanjur and Tenjur, to cleanse our sins and for good fortune. Now, hardly any youth has heard of the great books.

In this so-called ‘new life’, reading has to be forced. In schools, students are taken over by modern amenities. Reading habits are dying and may completely die soon.

In bookstores, the treasures are left collecting dust. Our children desire sophisticated gadgets, fancy miniskirts, skin-tight clothes, jeans and sugary sweets. But the books have more than all these to satisfy. Buying a book is buying a life’s wisdom.

The object of writing this article is because I am a bibliophile, a great lover of books. I would like to promote reading habits. I have persuaded my students incessantly to read and buy books. But sadly, the aforementioned reasons have conquered some.

I’ve also hoping to publish a book, hoping to give a typical Bhutanese author to our readers. However, it will not received well, i guess. The problem – too few readers! Hardly anyone visits the stores and picks up a book.

How can we have a knowledge-based society if we are not ready to read and learn? We had a knowledge-based-society a decade ago, when books were considered gold. Having modern imported gadgets and machines hinders our in-depth history and culture. It’s like trying to construct a road on a river. We become ignorant, even as we live in the so-called modern life because we ignore learning. We want ease and to be laidback; as a result of this, we are becoming a so-so group.

To build a knowledge center, our government must promote reading, through the formation of reading circles/groups, and promoting Bhutanese writers through some means. This in turn will promote readerships among our youth.

This article was published in K2 magazine, kuensel on16 December, 2010  

The Story of My Name

I wrote many names; many different names, when I was a kid and a student. It was a plaything.

I wrote in my notebooks, on my geometry boxes, on my beds, everywhere. I wrote the name of the kings and imagined those as my names.

I added ‘Drukpa’ to my name. I added ‘K’, ‘F,’ ‘D,’ to my surname. I played. But one name that remained in the school is Saacha. And the sound of this name changed permanently. It became ‘Saa’ from ‘Shacha.’ We had a very phony headmaster at Tsebar Primary school in the 1990s. He was a southern Bhutanese. And you know, they have some difficulty in pronouncing some words like ‘tsa,’ ‘cha.’ They don’t have this sound I feel. Even English people cannot pronounce these.

This phony headmaster was very particular to me. I was pulled by ears in front of the assembly and asked to be a house captain for a year. I did that, and he liked it, I guess.

He was fortunately or unfortunately our class teacher of class VI. Class VI had a common exam in Bhutan during that time, and the result came from the board. It was a huge one for us. And it meant a lot. We had to burn the midnight oil. I nearly got burned by papers.

So, this is how my name got; changed from Sha…to Saa. He not only gave my southern-sounding name but also gave my DOB, which would remain throughout my life. The school was a birthplace. Our mothers were at school at those times. Like me, many friends got DOB and names. Ngydrup became Nidup, Gyalpo became Gepo, Chedrup become Chedup, Drolo became Dolo. He changed it all and the school changed it all. We had no voice. The school was our name, DOB, father, mother, and everything. Such was the power of the teachers.

For me, I didn’t tell my different-sounding name to my parent; if not my parent would think that I have an Indian-sounding name or type. I didn’t bother much. Name or not. It does not reflect who I am. The outer physical, the outer wealth, etc doesn’t determine me. The real I is inside. The self-worth type!

Placement Mania

I earned my degree recently. I did my two years master's degree, and I reported to MOE, HRO for my placement. I requested my previous school, Darla MSS as my wife is working there. After days, my placement was in Zhamgang Dzongkhag, that too was without my knowledge. With much despair, I requested with many grounds, and these reasons were very genuine. I have many questions now. I even wrote the letter with some points today, and it’s in the process (God help me. We are human):

Date: 26-7-2013

Saacha Dorji
Darla Middle Secondary School
Chukha

The Human Resource Officer
Ministry of Education
Thimphu

Sub: - Request to Stay in Darla MSS.

Dear Sir/Madam,

I, the undersigned would like to inform you that I would like to continue my teaching in Darla MSS, Darla, Chukha. My reasons for this request are as follow:
 

1. My wife is working in Darla MSS, and is teaching general subjects.
2. We have a small son who needs to be taken care.
3. I have served in Darla MSS for only two and half years, in which, a teacher needs to serve for three years for a required transfer as per the Education Policy.
4. I have served in Tsirangtoe LSS, Tsirang, in a remote place for four years with dedication and integrity.
5. I have earned my degree not through any government source but self-funding, upon which I have loaned a good amount. The main purpose of pursuing and upgrading additional degrees is to help and serve better. Hope our ministry will look upon this matter seriously, unlike like punishment or sorts transfer.
6. Darla school has teacher shortages too.
7. I will be able to help my family better here. We duly respect Education Ministry Policy of working family to keep together and GNH.

I would, therefore, like to continue my teaching in Darla MSS, the same school for a year or two. I hope you will look into these serious matters and understand my situation and respond the needful for the same.
I sincerely hope that my request would be given the utmost consideration.

Yours faithfully,

Saacha Dorji
(Emply/No. 200501381)


Our system is functioning on lots of suspicious/ questions. Not only are officers very rude in their manners, but they are also heedless and unmindful to some justifiable problems. I have many questions that left me lingering and is killing me at times.
1. Why are some teachers posted in the same school after their studies? The same Darla school has two such teachers.
2. Is their connection, nepotism, relations, bribe, etc?
3. Is master graduate given punishment transfer? I was even asked to go to a community school to teach, when I have B.Ed secondary certificate. Is this a mismatch? I would love to teach anywhere, but this would create confusion in the future.
4. Is family relation not important to do any job fruitfully?
5. Why does MOE separate working husband and wife? That also in the same organization?
6. Why I was not given any Dzongkhag to choose myself but placed in Zhamgang without my knowledge?
7. Are we aware of GNH?
8. Why do I have to transfer after two and half years in the same school? The MOE policy says one need three years or more to obtain a transfer from the same school.
9. Why do some teachers have to face the hardship of remote again and again?
10. Why don’t we study the ground reality?
11. Etc…

I am not frustrated, but I am sad that our HRO doesn’t look into the family matter and the subject requirement at the ground level. Because Darla has teacher shortages. I am at least happy that I know now how our system functions.

THANK YOU

As I write today here, and as I write about my graduation and departure, all that comes to my mind is ‘Thank you,’ ‘Thank you,’ ‘Thank you.’ Today I write words of excitement and appreciation. Words devoted to many great souls. This short note is in honor of you all my professors and the life you all have made me. Truthfully, a million pages of gratitude are not enough. (See my Professors profile link:five-dons-of-aims )

I thank YOU ALL a million times, for what you have done is sometimes more than anything. When I first came to the literature class, I was nervous and skeptical, but there were just these huge abundance of fine people who helped me to get my groundings. Thank you all for teaching, thank you all for guiding, thank you all for showing a smooth path in reading literature. You have been my best friend, teacher, guide, and parent.

Teachers and students of the graduating cohort of 2013, thank you for all that you are and for all that you did, and for caring about us. We know your work is more to you than just a job, it is a calling, and for that, we are so grateful for your sacrifices.

I have learned to read better. I wouldn’t have understood the depth of literature; British lit, American lit, Indian lit, World lit, Criticism, linguistics, Post Colonial Studies, Teaching English Language and Literature, Gender, Communication, etc if it weren’t tutored by you all.

You all deserve a huge congrats and thanks. Who could forget our amazing trip? Who could forget our noisy class? Who could forget the charming and angry faces, where you got annoyed with too many works and responsibilities? 

There are many good things to be remembered…

I probably can’t thank you all enough.

Thank you for everything, my teachers.

I am happy because while I cannot take you all with me, I can at least keep the memories with me always in my heart.

Thank you very much, Mrs. Mamta, Mr. Prabha, Mr. Samuel, Mrs. Parveen, Mrs. Chitra, Mr. Umashankar, Ms, Charita, and others.

A Cohort of Graduate Students with some Lecturers.

Coming Home

Come the 17^th July, I am going home. I am completing my MA course. And I am completing the first class result. I tried to be the best. And I got it. Literature is tough. Rote learning still matters here.

Anyways, I longed for this. Come what may, I wouldn’t turn back to this place. I have had enough of everything nowhere. I simply feel jaded. I will do my everyday business-teaching in Bhutan. I love teaching, and it’s my life. I get a kind of true satisfaction, happiness, joy, etc when I see my students flying higher than me, and swinging their life. One of my intentions as a human being is to help better other’s life. I little contribute; a pinch of salt, to taste life better. I think now, I will be able to help anyone more with my advanced skills and knowledge. I will try, and I will not let anyone down.

Here is a song by Chris Daughtry's Home.’ I love this song. My son and I often play and sing while driving. My dear son, your papa is coming home. Let’s sing. This is our home. Let’s sing together before we go to our permanent home.

Home

I'm staring out into the night,
Trying to hide the pain.
I'm going to the place where love
And feeling good don't ever cost a thing.
And the pain you feel's a different kind of pain.

Well I'm going home,
Back to the place where I belong,
And where your love has always been enough for me.
I'm not running from.
No, I think you got me all wrong.
I don't regret this life I chose for me.
But these places and these faces are getting old,
So I'm going home.
Well I'm going home.

The miles are getting longer, it seems,
The closer I get to you.
I've not always been the best man or friend for you.
But your love remains true.
And I don't know why.
You always seem to give me another try.

So I'm going home,
Back to the place where I belong,
And where your love has always been enough for me.
I'm not running from.
No, I think you got me all wrong.
I don't regret this life I chose for me.
But these places and these faces are getting old,

Be careful what you wish for,
'Cause you just might get it all.
You just might get it all,
And then some you don't want.
Be careful what you wish for,
'Cause you just might get it all.
You just might get it all, yeah.

Oh, well I'm going home,
Back to the place where I belong,
And where your love has always been enough for me.
I'm not running from.
No, I think you got me all wrong.
I don't regret this life I chose for me.
But these places and these faces are getting old.
I said these places and these faces are getting old,
So I'm going home.
I'm going home.