Thursday, May 24, 2012

Storytelling


Running to Chazam


Class 3 Reading Group

With lessons in hand
from loneliness to oneness
darkness to brightness

-Haiku from “The Stranger”


I am now a published author! The book my friend Linnea and I have been working on went public at Art-A-Whirl in Minneapolis. I wrote the poem partly in Minneapolis, partly in Bhutan.
Here’s a link to the work: The Stranger
Publishing my poetry was a goal for this year, and it has happened already. It’s only May, let’s see what other goals see the light of accomplishment this year…

I want to take some time in this post to share what I’ve been doing with my classes at school. After trying many different approaches to teaching the vocabulary and grammar structures outlined as part of the syllabus, I realized that the problem was in the readings given for context. The readings in the curriculum are usually over the heads of my Class 3 and Class 4. Bhutan has a national curriculum, so I knew I couldn't diverge from what the students were required to learn. I was feeling frustrated and felt like my teaching was disorganized and had no routine. I also saw little progress with my students. I had to try a different way  (as my mom says “if you can’t get there from here, you have to go start somewhere else”). So I turned to a tried and true method for language teaching and learning I had used with French during my student teaching: Teaching Proficiency through Reading and Storytelling (TPRS).
I take the vocabulary and structures they are supposed to gain from the curriculum, then as a class we make up a hilarious story using them. After we make the story, the kids read it, act it, retell it through drawings, and then in their own way in writing. What is amazing is that they have actually retained the vocabulary and structures. They go around saying lines from our story. What a feeling of success! After we are done with our silly story, I read the actual reading from the curriculum with them, we go over it, and they tend to understand it a lot more since we’ve learned the difficult vocabulary in an easier and repeated context. 

Here’s an excerpt from Class 4’s “Tshering the Lark”:
Once upon a time, there was a lark. The lark’s name was Tshering. Tshering was good at singing. He was not timid. Tshering’s dream was to sing on Druk Superstar. But there was a problem! Creatures like larks were not allowed to sing on Druk Superstar. But Tshering was not timid. He went to Thimphu. He wanted to ask Kencho Wangdi to let him sing on the show. Tshering went soaring to Thimphu as fast as his wings could go.

And some of “Dorji the Orphan” from Class 3:
Once there was a child named Dorji. Dorji did not have a mother. Dorji did not have a father. Dorji did not have a family. Dorji was an orphan. Dorji lived in a meadow. She lived in a meadow with her cows. The cows liked the meadow. The meadow had a lot of grass. It did not have a lot of rocks. Dorji did not live in a house. She lived in a bago. The bago was made out of moss.  

(side note for those familiar with Class 3 curriculum: the Dorji story is for vocabulary for a book we are reading called Aunty Mouse that is not part of the required curriculum)

It is so fun to ask my students what should happen next in these stories. Their imaginations are fabulous and make me double over with laughter. 

Another successful routine I’ve implemented in Class 4 and 5 is “Breaking News”, inspired by Noorin who is teaching Kuruthang. I used to do news article summaries with my ESL students in the US, but didn’t know how to do it here without a newspaper or student access to the internet. Noorin reminded me that most of the kids watch TV and so could get the news from that source. I began by teaching “The 5 Ws” with a chant (The 5 Ws: Who What When Where Why!) and actions with our hands. Then I brought in news articles from the Kuensel online, the New York Times, or the BBC. Once the students had the routine down, I handed it over to them. After our 2 minutes of Mind Training (or “Eyes Closed” as we call it in Class 3), the student who is assigned that day writes up their article in summary form using the 5 Ws, then gives an oral report of the news item. My shyest students have stood in front of the class and said their news in a loud and clear voice. Though we are still having confusion over “What” and “Why” (effect and cause, respectively), the students are using their writing and summarizing skills and clearly showing improvement.

In our literary club, we are working on a school newspaper which we will print using the “cycloster” (1 copy per class- it is a difficult machine to operate and we have limited paper and ink...). The club is really excited to share their stories, so we are hoping to print our first edition this Saturday, complete with news of our Nobding Sports Competition victories.

So, in the midst of a spell of darkness and frustration, I have found ways to pull myself out and up; start from a different vantage point. And this has in no small part been aided by the support of the other BCF teachers in the field here. Feeling alone in this experience is just a feeling. The truth is that there are 20 some other teachers here who are dealing with the same issues who I can reach out to. I have appreciated being able to process through problems with them over the phone, to come to new ideas (or come back to old ones I’d forgotten). So a big THANK YOU! Teaching is not a job we can do effectively without support.

In non-teaching news: Joe is coming to Bhutan! His visa has been approved. He will be coming at the end of July and staying until the end of August. I am looking forward to showing him my village and school and sharing this experience with him.

There are some characteristically "Bhutanese" moments I’ve experienced here in the last week that I want to end with:
-My student Vim showing up at my door at about 7am with a bunch of bananas for me, just because.
-Walking to the top of a hill, being surrounded in a cloud, and staring down at my village  and the river through the mist.
-Watching my Class 3 boys stuff all their books, pencils, water bottles, snacks into the fronts of their gho before leaving for home at the end of the day.
-My students telling me I look nice in the “national dress of India” (jeans and a sweater).
-Picking tiny strawberries on the road as I walk students home.

Thursday, May 17, 2012

Bumthang Bound


Sun finally warm
we bare arms, greedy for rays,
and cool in blessed springs

(haiku for a walk to Kurje Lakhang)

This last weekend I had the great opportunity to take my first trip east to visit Martin and Tara in Bumthang. My mother, I am sure, is wondering what “Bumthang” is. Bumthang (pronounced ‘boomtong’) is another district, or Dzonghag, like Wangdue, which is where I am. It is a tourist destination (as it is usually as far east as most tours venture), the home of many important temples and sights, and idyllically beautiful (“Bhutan’s Switzerland”).

Normally we’d have school Thursday-Saturday, but many of our students and half the staff (3 teachers, including the principal) traveled to Nobding (1.5 hours to the west) for the interschool sports competition. Thus, school was cancelled for lack of teachers and students and I gained a surprise holiday.

As traveling usually begins here, I woke up early, packed my things, and walked to Chazam to the hotel to wait for the bus or a ride, whichever presented itself first. While busy drinking milk tea and making paper dolls with Kinley and Singye (two of my Class III students), I overheard a man talking to Ajim Dema (owner of the hotel, mother of Singye) saying something about Bumthang. Ajim Dema waved me over and introduced me to A, a vegetable wholesaler who supplies her hotel and travels often from Bumthang to Phuentsholing (in the south, on the border with India) and back. He told me he had a seat in his truck and he’d be more than happy to add me to his load headed to Bumthang. We ate some breakfast and then jumped in his truck, a jeep-like vehicle loaded with 3,500 kilo of produce in the back.

It turns out that A was a tour guide for many years before starting his wholesale business and shop in Chamkar, Bumthang. He shared the history and lore of Bhutan as we drove and proved to be quite knowledgeable about the flora and fauna we passed as well (I had been wondering the names of the strangely beautiful plants and animals I've been seeing). Since he also divulged a great love for country music, I plugged in the flashdrive sent by my friend Dave (thanks!), loaded up with John Prine. 

Since we were transporting a load of Indian vegetable, we talked extensively about the proposed cutback on Indian imports, especially of vegetables and fruits. A transports vegetables from India, so the proposal will directly affect him. Indian produce is cheaper, and since it is further south, they can grow things that are not available year-round in Bhutan. But this has had some effects on the Bhutanese economy, thus the government’s proposal to cutback on the imports. A thinks it will take time for the Bhutanese growers to catch up to demand, that the prices will go up, and that less variety will be available. This is a big discussion, one that is happening not only here. I am reminded of the local food movement in Minnesota. There are things we cannot grow in Minnesota that people are accustomed to eating yet the cost of importing and transporting is not seen or felt immediately. Local produce encourages and supports the local economy and avoids the environmental and monetary cost of transportation. I am curious to see what the Bhutanese government’s policy will be and what affects it will have.

By the time we reached Bumthang, a 5-hour journey, A and I were still joking, talking, and bouncing our heads to the country songs. He invited me into his shop in town for tea with his wife and two small daughters. Tara arrived to meet me at the shop, which just happens to be where she buys produce. I greeted her with a big hug. After tea, Tara and I left, promising to return before the end of my stay to do some much needed produce shopping. This chance meeting resulted in an exchange of phone numbers so that when A travels to pick up and deliver produce (from India or Bhutan), I can put in a request and have it dropped off as he passes by my village. What luck! I will get a regular supply of fruit now, which we don’t get a lot of at my altitude.

Tara and I walked to Martin’s school, Wangduecholing, where he was watching a soccer game. We left together, walking to their home in Dekling town. Their house is on the 2nd floor with a nice ladder-like stair leading to the door. Inside it is wooden and homey. Due to Martin’s ingenuity and talent with construction, they have made their home a home. I felt so comfortable, especially in their kitchen, which is how I’ve imagined a kitchen of my own to be (perhaps I’d have a bigger oven and stove….).  We made many scrumptious meals in this kitchen over the 4 days I spent there. I even baked chocolate chip cookies in the glorified toaster oven! (Martin uses it to make sourdough bread, a true treat). I also made a some Lebanese dishes: mejeddra (rice and lentils with carmelized onions) and loubyeh (cinnamon spiced green beans and tomatoes with rice).

Aside from cooking, eating, and talking about food—we all love good food—I took some lovely walks. The first was to Kurje Lakhang, which is a gorgeous monastery and temple with a holy spring above it (where Tara and I surprised some shaving monks). It also is home to a body print of Guru Rimpoche, and where the cremated remains of the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd Kings are kept. Another walk with Tara, during my shopping excursion in town, led us to the dairy, which sells swiss-style cheese and apple products. I stocked up on apple cider vinegar and a few blocks of cheese. No honey just yet, though I am looking forward to this Bumthang specialty when I visit again in July. On my last day, we meandered among the fields and cows in the sunny Sunday weather. We found ourselves in the midst of stone and mud base houses just above Dekling town, the smell of rich earth and green growth following our steps.

Another treat was leading yoga classes at Martin’s school. Tara has initiated an exercise class for the teachers and others in the community and invited me to be a guest instructor for Saturday’s class. This was their first experience with yoga practice, and I thanked them for being open and brave enough to try it. I felt at home leading the women through a basic yoga practice. Seeing them moving, breathing, and relaxing was beautiful. They requested that I teach another class on Sunday, though they normally don’t have class that day. I gladly agreed. I have led yoga practices informally before, but there was something phenomenal about watching the faces of these ladies completely relax during the final meditation, to see them absolutely calm. I want to be able to cultivate that in people more often. 

Glad I get rides to my destinations... A man on the road near Rukubji (February 2012)


Morning Assembly at Rukubji Primary School, April 2012


The night before leaving Bumthang, we went to eat at the Farmhouse. It was my treat to Martin and Tara for sharing so generously with me.  We had a great Bhutanese meal, complete with momos and buckwheat pancakes (a Bumthang specialty), though it wasn’t as spicy and I am used to now… The owners/chefs sat with us on the floor like they would in a normal Bhutanese home. It was quite similar to the dinners I’ve had at student’s homes with their parents. Martin and Tara complimented me on my ability to follow the conversation in Dzongkha, but I’ve had a lot of practice. Hardly anyone in my village speaks English, aside from the students and teachers. Most people I meet around my village address me in Dzongkha, and so I’ve learned to understand and respond to common phrases. This is one of the most difficult languages I’ve ever learned, and I haven’t even attempted the writing system as Martin and Tara are doing in their evening Dzongkha classes.

We arrived home late and I readied for the early morning wake up to catch the bus at 6 am. I hugged my hosts gratefully and woke up in what felt like seconds later. I stood with Tara in muted light looking at the river, waiting for my taxi, tired but somehow rejuvenated. What a gift of true friendship. I had gotten to just be with Martin and Tara- to talk and laugh, to let things out, and let go. I am glad to have made such great lifelong friends, almost by chance, through this experience.

Back at school we have been celebrating the success of our students in the interschool competition. I am particularly proud that we won the Mini-Marathon competition, as I was responsible for training the team for this event. Last year, they took home no prizes, and this year they won 5 events! Noteworthy news, which my Literary Club will be printing in our first issue of Rukubji Primary News. Now, let's see how the students do in our Class-wise English Super Spellers competition that I am in charge of this Saturday...

For an article regarding the vegetable issue, see http://www.kuenselonline.com/2011/?p=31226

Monday, May 7, 2012

May Days


The ground is littered
with promises, white petals
ripen to red fruit

This Sunday, I walked one of my favorite trails, towards the B-mobile tower. I never actually go to the tower, which crowns the very top of a prominent hill. Instead, I sit under a tall tree near the top (tower purposely obscured from view) and watch the hawks, ravens, and eagles riding the wind, and regard the looming mountain behind Chazam. This time, the walk was speckled with the white flowers of wild strawberries. Strawberries seem like a rarity in the Midwest compared with the amount of ground they cover here. I am anticipating the taste of ripe berries…

It is a busy time at school. Last week we had several special days in a row.

First, the Je Khenpo passed by on Monday. We got the message during our 3rd period. The students promptly readied themselves with rachu and kabney (the scarves that complete the national dress of Bhutan and are required for prayer and official occasions), and we hurried to the road. We, and most of Rukubji, ended up waiting quite a while for the car carrying Bhutan’s head lama. When the car did pass, we all bowed and received a drive by blessing on the head. As soon as we returned to school, a student remarked that there were bicyclists on the road (a rare sight). It turns out that the 5th King was in the peleton. This time we could not have made it to the road in time to wave the King on, so we stood on the football field, squinting at the road.

As if this excitement wasn’t enough, as I took my mini-marathon training group for our evening jog towards Chazam (which is their jog home), a motorcade bearing the Queen passed us. The students recognized her instantly and shrieked with excitement, exclaiming about her beauty. Then, not even 5 minutes later, a large crew of motorcyclists, which could only be described as the “Bhutanese Hell’s Angels”, droned past. A few turned back and stopped to make conversation with us (which happens to me occasionally on the road, since there are few non-Bhutanese people living out in the villages, so people are naturally curious). It was the most exciting day this stretch of road has seen in a while.

That night, I ate dinner at the hotel with Tshering’s older sister Tshering Lhamo and her young aunt Zam. We went for a stroll and ended the night watching sappy Japanese movies. Quite the girl’s night!

The next day was Zhabdrung Kuchoe. This day commemorates the death of Zhabdrung Nawang Namgyal who came to Bhutan in the 1600s and built the first Dzong (fortess) at Semtokha (though the Dzong he is famous for is the Punakha Dzong).

I left early from Chazam to meet two of my students who had requested I walk with them to Chendibji, where there are 3 large chortens built in different styles. We left with zip in our step, unaware of the journey that lay ahead. I think the girls greatly underestimated the distance we’d walk that day, as they carried no water or food in their bag. Having been on adventures to “not far” places with students before (see April Fool’s walk post), I carried a bottle of water and money for snacks along the way. After an hour and a half of walking and talking (these two are quite shy, so I asked hundreds of questions to keep the conversation rolling), we saw a sign that reported: Chendibji 3Km. We stopped at a tiny bamboo-built shop and I bought the girls some juice to keep their energy up, though being overly polite, they almost refused to drink it. Finally, we spotted the spire of the Nepalese style chorten. Once there, we found no festivities for the holiday, so we walked around the chortens 3 times and rested on the grass. Since this sight is also on the lateral road, there were a few tourists who stopped to talk to us. If I am an oddity in the countryside of Bhutan, I become even more of a curiosity when I wear the national dress, which we three were wearing in case there was something going on for the holiday. After the tourists took leave in their vehicle, we set off meandering along the road, stopping for snacks to keep ourselves going as it was lunchtime by now. Had I known, I would have advised packing a picnic lunch. Regardless of fatigue or hunger, it was a beautiful day. The sun was out warming our skin and the green leaves, the river accompanied us with its talkative current. I felt entirely at peace walking along, but the girls began to feel the distance in their shorter, less trained legs. We once again reached the curve in the road that signifies a turn off into the thicket where pedestrians can take a shortcut across the river, straight uphill to the other side of the road (the road basically folds at Chazam, so we cut off about 3 km by taking the shortcut). After an intense climb upwards, the girls collapsed on the side of the road—laughing with exhaustion. We strolled the 2 km left back to Rukubji singing songs, calculating our mileage, and congratulating ourselves on our strength. We walked a total of 20 Km that day! This is not an incredible feat for me (try skiing 50km…), but for these two girls it was a huge accomplishment. I am proud they stuck with it and didn’t stick their thumbs out for a ride.

The next day was Teacher’s Day, which I’ve never celebrated. This year, the day was made even more special as 2012 marks the 100-year anniversary of education in Bhutan. It is also the 3rd King’s Birthday, and he is considered the father of education here.

That morning, I dressed in my hand-woven kira and came to school to see what the day would bring. I was instructed to sit in the front with the other five teachers and the two Non-Formal Education (NFE) teachers. Parents and student filled out multi-purpose hall. The principal made a speech, then asked me to speak!  I simply told the gathering that this was the first time I had celebrated Teacher’s Day in my 3 years of teaching, and that it was quite an honor. I also thanked the students for being the reason I teach. Without students, there are no teachers. I felt a great sense of pride for teaching in that moment, looking at the faces of the 150 students who are no longer strangers to me. Each one has become etched into my heart. Looking at them, I could feel their gratitude beaming back. To express that gratitude, the students filed into a line and brought us cards and gifts. Then the cultural program kicked off with the principal announcing that all the lady teachers would perform a dance to start the show. News to me! I got on stage with Dema, Kuenzang, and Deki (who is a fantastic dancer), and did a traditional Bhutanese dance in a circle that was pretty simple, though I still found myself fumbling along. The students put on quite the show with choreographed dances, skits, and singing. The NFE students also danced and sang traditional songs. We got plenty of tea, zow (puffed rice), and cookies served to us the whole while. When the show was finished, we departed full of tea and in good spirits.

Education is highly valued here, and the celebration of teachers and education on a national scale proves this. The students, even if they are occasionally lax in their work ethic, know the value of education and constantly thank me for teaching them. The contrast between students’ general attitude towards education here and that of my students in the US is great. Both groups of students face intense difficulties in their lives, though rural and urban problems are quite different. Yet the difficulty the students here face draws them to appreciate education, not to take it for granted. This is not to say that all my US students were ungrateful, but I don’t think most of them grasped the value of what they were experiencing. Here, teaching with chalk, board, books, and not much else, wondering if I am at all effective at my job, it is humbling to see the students’ gratitude. Imagine if they got to experience a US-style classroom with all its resources (and heat!). 

As with the wild strawberries, though we could easily forget what a special happening they are, so we should realize what a gift education is. And like those blossoms, the promise of education lies in wait for student and teacher to transform and ripen it. 

*Important Side Note: I got to attend the National Book Fair in Wangdue with the Principal on Friday. We  picked out 21,000 nu of new books for the school library. Wish for new books granted!