Paths

As I walk these woods

I learn: even the cow-paths

have destinations

This is not the haiku I expected would head this post- but it is the one that came as I walked yesterday, so this will be an experiment in tying my recent experiences to it.

First, walking. I have been doing a lot of this. Mostly for fun and fresh air, but also because if I need anything from a store, it is either a 15 min walk straight uphill to Tsengaypokto (a shortcut, vs the road), or a 35 min walk to Chazam where there is a hotel/store/restaurant. I often opt for Chazam because the walk is longer and many of my students live there, so I get to talk with them as we walk. I think they like this too, since the other day as I was just reaching the river on my way out of Rukubji, a group of girls saw me and ran as fast as they could toward me as I waited for them, laughing. They have many questions about life in the United States, but students in the US would have similar questions about life in Bhutan, I am sure. They teach me a lot as well: whose house is whose, whose field is whose, where they hike to offer butter lamps, customs, simple words in Dzongkha, what they want to be when they are older (doctors! engineers! I asked them about being a teacher, no takers…)

Sometimes I walk with Dema, another teacher. She has it in her mind to become healthier and more active, so when she can, we spend our after school hours walking. I am teaching her some simple yoga, which she loves. We are becoming good friends and I am so happy that we are able to talk frankly and openly about everything. I am learning so much from her, and I think it is good for her as well since I know she is learning from me too (we made pancakes last Sunday, and I am going to show her how to knit a hat.)

Besides walking on the road to Chazam, I have been exploring the woods by myself. Most people in the village think this is odd, and Angey has told me that in the summer I’ll get attacked by a bear, but I do it anyway. Often there’s no real path, so I follow the cow-paths, which are everywhere. These cows are mountain climbers, no joke. I have had to get myself out of some precarious spots! Yesterday, however, I discovered a good way to get to a “real” trail that leads all the way to the B-mobile tower. Someone had told me it would take 3 hours, but I decided to try after-school and see how far I got. It only took about an hour to get there, and far less to come back (uphill vs downhill). On the top of the hill, I could see what I think is the Black Mountain range. Breathtaking. I plan to do this walk often.

On to the part about “cow-paths”. I guess this is kind of an allegory for the fact that things are done differently here, often in a way that is difficult for me to grasp or follow (like the cow-paths), but it works out nonetheless. Since we are waiting for our first paycheck, I have been buying things on credit and borrowing, which makes me nervous, but everyone here is more than happy to do this and not at all concerned. I also have no idea how to pay for my lovely internet service that is allowing me to post this, but I have been told that the bill will come in my email (did they get my address correct?), don’t worry.

School is different in so many ways. First, I have the task of learning names that I can hardly keep straight: girls and boys can have the same names and many of the names are the same. For example, I have two Tshering Lhams in one class (approximately pronounced “seering ham”). And just give this one a try: Phub Dorji (I bet you wouldn’t have guessed it sounds like “poop dorjee”), or Damchoe Gyeltshen (“damsho yeltsen”).

Second, the day is broken up differently. Students are finishing up cleaning the grounds and classrooms (I know, shocking for an American teacher) when I arrive. Then we begin with a short (very short- student timed) meditation, then prayers, announcements, and the national anthem- all done in formation by house (like Harry Potter) outside. After, I have class IV, then III, a 10 min break, then class V for two periods. I go home to eat lunch (we get one glorious hour!), then back again for class III or IV. Since I am Library in Charge, I open the library and invite students who don’t have a teacher that hour to come and read or check out books. The first day I opened the library, I had nearly 50 students check out books! They are hungry to read. We need more books… My homework every night for IV and V is to read for 30 minutes every night and record it in their reading log. A rocky start, but I think they’re getting the idea now.

After the gong is sounded at the end of the day, students go to evening prayer for 30 minutes, I get things ready to leave, and then I go home and go for a walk.

Third, there is a curriculum, which I am not used to having provided for me. I am so glad there is one, because creating a curriculum with very limited resources and little cultural knowledge would be very difficult and time consuming. I cannot really download things from the internet, which I did a lot of when creating my curriculum at home. And there is no technology in the classrooms. I often hand draw pictures on the chalkboard to explain vocabulary or act things out (which the kids get a kick out of). The curriculum is quite well done. It is thematic and integrates the 4 modalities of language, plus grammar in context, and I find it is pretty level appropriate. When there are students who are ahead or behind, I find ways to modify. The hardest part, as always in language classes, is getting them to talk, but we’re working on it.

Finally, there is a real teacher shortage. I don’t have to guess if I am needed here. The past week we made do with only 4 teachers to cover our 7 classes and 6 period day. This is not a critique, simply a fact. Bhutan needs more teachers to take posts in the villages. It was very hard for me to experience this, especially because I knew as I taught one class, there were 3 classes not being taught. Today, since we had only 3 teachers, my solution was to send some responsible class 5 and 6 students to PP, class 1, and 2 to do some literacy in English with them. They loved the task and I think both the younger and older students benefited. I am so proud of my older students for stepping up and helping out. I’ve got to think of a way to reward them.

So the path may differ in look and feel, but I am accomplishing my goals of loving this world and giving it what I can as I walk it. Perhaps I did not expect to take this path or find these destinations, but they offer a perspective that is new and allowing me to dive deeper into inner and outer understanding.

Road Trip

in misted distance

white wings carve, landing lightly

to rest from peaked flight

On Wednesday, Dave, fellow BCF teacher posted to Pakshika MSS in the south, showed up in Rukubji to visit. Amazingly, he got access to a car and survived the roads and distance, and found the insignificant turn off to Rukubji's dirt road in the dark. It was great to catch up and share stories. The next day, after giving Dave the grand tour of the village and environs, which made him exclaim with envy, Martin and Tara showed up from Bumthang. They had, amazingly, caught the bus going toward Thimphu, and after 4+ hours on the road, ended up in Chazam, 4km from Rukubji. We hurried up to meet them for lunch at the hotel/restaurant/store in Chazam. After a great and filling lunch, we headed back to my house and laid out on the grass in the bright sunshine to plan our next moves.

We decided to make a trip to Phobjika to see the Black Necked Cranes that spend the winter there. It is only about an hour and a half away, so we started off around 3:30. As we drove, we passed a Khuru (darts) match in Gangtey, got a little turned around, bought some eggs, finally making it to Phobjika. We knew we were in the right place when, in the distance, we spied white wings in flight. We found the Black Necked Crane center where we spent some time ogling the birds through telescope. As the center closed for the evening, we walked down to the field for a better view. These birds are huge, but we could not get very close, the pictures do not do them the justice they deserve! While I watched them pecking the valley floor or rising and twisting in flight, I thought about how these birds fly across Everest from Tibet to come to THIS valley. What a journey they take, twice a year! The whole valley is protected for the cranes, there are no farms. If I were a crane, I'd come to this valley too. I thought of the intensity and difficulty I undertook for my own landing in Bhutan. I didn't fly over Everest using only the strength of my wings, but I did leave my home and the familiar for an unknown and challenging, but ultimately beautiful experience.

As dusk descended and it became colder, we piled back into the car. As we climbed the passes to Rukubji, a great fog began to grow and obscure the road. We could not see a foot in front of us! Dave did a marvelous job keeping the car on the road and safe from the "abyss" (roads here hug the mountains, thus one side is usually a severe cliff). After one false turn off, we found Rukubji's access road (incredibly). Once back in my house, we all took a moment to breathe normally before starting the bukari and dinner. What joy to have my house full of people, conversation, and music. Martin offered his talents and hooked up my drain in the kitchen, so now, though there's still no indoor water, I can do dishes inside! And he fashioned a stopper for the tub out of wood! A real bath is in my future, if I can heat enough water... He also made me a cutting board from some scrap wood in the shed and gifted me with a loaf of home-baked sourdough bread!

We all spent a night of mediocre sleep laid out around the bukari. In the morning we feasted on Martin's bread, toasted on the bukari, and eggs. Dave left after breakfast, I headed to school for the parent teacher meeting, and Martin and Tara spent the morning exploring Rukubji. When I returned home, I soaked up the sun and their company until they too left to find a ride back to Bumthang on the road.

Now my house is empty again, Angey is still in Thimphu (she'll be back next week I'm told), but I am left feeling the gifts of friendship and a new appreciation for my village life and beautiful surroundings.

Losar Tashi Delek

Patiently begin

anew in the light of dawn

as the sun's light builds

Happy New Year! It is Losar, or the new year, of the Water Male Dragon in Bhutan. Thus, we have 2 days of holiday from school. In addition, it was His Majesty the 5th King's Birth Anniversary as well as National Education Day yesterday, which we celebrated with a cultural program put on by the students at school.

We spent the past week preparing dances and songs with the students for this event. I took on teaching an English song to a group of Class 3, 4, 5, and 6 students (about 24 in all). They learned the song "Imagine" by John Lennon, which I thought fit well with the theme of education. The song is all about imagining a better world free of the suffering we bring on each other. This type of imagination is often the gift of education- the ability to imagine alternate and better worlds, as well as the means to create them. In teaching the song, I found the students to be very excited to learn and they took the task very seriously.

Even so, in these grades you always have a couple of boys who like to swat at each other when the teacher turns their back (this must be universal among young boys- it has happened in all of my teaching experiences!). Once I saw this happening, I took it as an opportunity to underline the message of the song and the importance of non-violence in education. I told the students that the song was about a world without violence, full of peace, and that to sing the song, we had to have peace in our hands, in our feet, in our hearts, in our minds. If they were not able to hold that peace in their bodies, hearts, and minds, then as a consequence they would not be able to join us in singing the song. I also told them that violence is like taking a step backward, and education and peace are steps forward. So if they hoped to continue on to bigger and better things in life (higher education, a happy life...) they needed to take steps forward, not backward. This stuck, amazingly enough, and so the next time I saw a boy raise his hand to another, I held up my two fingers in the sign of peace and the boy stopped and did the same, saying "oh, yes, peace, peace Miss". The next day, as I walked up to school and the children were greeting me, many of my roughhousing boys greeted me with "Peace!". I am not going to let this drop throughout the year. I am going to continue to push the message of peace as moving us forward, it is already taking hold and all I have to do is continue to reinforce it and make it part of our school culture.

Now, on to the other facts of our school: we have a small staff and small amount of students compared to what I am used to. There is the Principal, 3 women teachers (including me), 2 other male teachers (3, if you count the principal, who also teaches!), and a support staff person. There may be one other woman teacher coming to join us if she does not begin a training program this year. There are about 130 students in our school, compared to the 570 something at Anwatin. This encompasses Classes PP (Kindergarten)- 6.

A big difference I have noticed in being at school here is that the students are given a great deal of responsibility, and carry it out. They are invested in their school. They clean the grounds and the classrooms, they raise the flag, they open the building, and so much more. I remarked to one of the teachers that my students in the US would not believe their eyes, but also that the teachers in the US might not trust the students to carry out this work with honesty and diligence, as they do here. Taking care of your physical environment, investing in it, makes you less likely to destroy it and more likely to show the space respect, this is an observable fact here.

We have not started official classes yet, but each morning we have met to practice the cultural program and prepare the grounds, the students have lined up by classes, raised the flag, sang their prayers and the national anthem. The first day I saw this ritual, tears welled up in my eyes. It is incredibly moving to see the whole school lined up singing and praying. Again, teachers and students alike in the US would likely hold reservations about the workability of such an assembly in our country, but from what I've seen, it sets a wonderful focus for the day and gets everyone together for a common purpose, which is what we are always trying to do in school (the common purpose being learning).

On to the cultural program: The students showed up at school at 8am to prepare the grounds more (we did it outside, despite the cold and cloudy weather). The guests arrived until 9am (including the Chief Guest, the Gup, the head of our Gewog- or assemblage of villages). Also in attendance were a Lama and a few monks to conduct a Puja.

The students sang the National Anthem, and then "Happy Birthday" to the King while some Class 6 students offered white scarves to an image of the King set in front of the tent. Then the Puja was conducted for the Principal's new car, and everyone offered money and white scarves. The Principal provided everyone with a series of offerings, including suja (butter tea), a tea with cheese blocks in it, holy water, rice, and many treats (pictured on my lap). After this ceremony, the students performed a welcome dance in honor of the King and then after another dance, we moved the whole celebration inside due to the cold weather (though it isn't much warmer in buildings here- no central heat like in the US). My song was up right away once we were inside, and the students did a wonderful job! I got it all on video (thanks to Chimi, our support staff), but I doubt I'll be able to upload it until I get to a faster internet connection or just have the patience to wait an hour. After the performances, the Gup sang a song and then the Non-Formal Education students (adults) performed a traditional dance and song. It was lovely! After all of this, we were provided lunch by the Principal, which was absolutely delicious (rice, ema datse, meat dishes, dal...).

While everyone was leaving, Chimi told me that there was going to be an archery match, so I asked if I could tag along. He and Principal took me with to the field, about a km long, just above the road from my house (I had no idea!). Incredible. I have no idea how they even get the arrow down to the other end, much less ever hit the target. I also have no clue how they don't hit the people who are always walking across the archery field, or the cows for that matter. Once an archer is done with his turn, they begin walking to the other end (the target switches from one end to the other after each archer has shot 2x), and people are still shooting! Quite an experience to have arrows whizzing over your head as you walk down the long field! The rules, though I am still learning them, are that there are two teams and the first team to get 11 points wins. However, you shoot in pairs of opposing teams, and if you both hit the target, I think that point is cancelled... something like that. They use these high-tech bows too, which was also incredible to see- I have only seen them used for hunting in the US!

Looking forward to hiking a little today and more archery, since it is Losar. Even if you're not in Bhutan, take time to celebrate new beginnings with me (they are always happening- Al and Krista, my cousins, had a new baby!).

At Home in Rukubji

Best intentions set

and now I’m the one in need

kindness flows two ways

It has been one week since my arrival in Rukubji, the village where I will live and teach for the next 10 months. The village is in the Wangdue Dzongkhag (or District), but it is about as far from the seat of Wangdue (which is a town called Wangdue) as you can get- it is almost in the next district. The village is situated up in the hills leading to mountains and a river cuts through it. The river provides the village electricity through a mini-hydroelectric plant. The school I teach at, Rukubji Primary School, is up on a hill (windy!) and only a 3 minute walk from my house. Most villagers have a few cows and the main crop, the fields of which lie just above the village, is potatoes.

I am renting the lower half of a large village house, built in the traditional style. It is owned by Angey Tandin (or Grandma Tandin). Angey could be my Lebanese grandma- she even talks with her same cadence! Like my own grandma, she works hard, all the time- cutting wood, gardening, fixing things, making food. And like my grandma, she prays every morning and evening, the only difference is that her string of prayer beads has 108 beads while my grandma’s has 54. While they might be praying to different enlightened beings, but I think the intent is the same. She also doesn’t speak English, like my grandma, so I am trying to learn Dzongkha as fast as I can to communicate with her better. The language she speaks is different from Dzongkha though, it is called Henki (the language of the village).

Though I came to be of use, to teach, this first week proved that I was the one in need of help. I came without knowing how to do things the way they are done here, in need of guidance. I also came feeling under the weather, and so Angey was the one who helped me, cooked for me, and let me rest. I could not have easily gotten my feet on the ground without her telling me where to get wood, food, water. How to wash my clothes efficiently, how to get my bukari (woodstove) up and running. I feel so blessed to have landed in her capable hands and I hope that during my 10 months here I can give back to her as much and more.

So I am settling into the rhythm of life here. Adjusting to getting my water from the tap outside, to warming my bones with wood heat, to washing laundry by hand, to not having a variety of food, to putting on my kira in time to get to school, to the cold nights, to the silence. Things are simpler here, but also have a complexity that evades me still. There are systems to doing and getting things, and I am learning them.

School starts officially today, the students will arrive (at least most of them). It is not like the start of the year for students in the USA, the first week will be spent preparing a cultural program to celebrate His Majesty the 5^th King’s Birth Anniversary, National Education Day, and Losar (the New Year). This will give me time to plan out my year and dig into the curriculum. I will be teaching 4^th and 5^th English (and maybe 6^th) and will also be the Literary In Charge, which means I will be planning an English related activity once a month. I am excited to begin, to meet my students, and to contribute everything I can to the students and the school. (More about school in the next posting, stay tuned!)

"It is not really, enjoy the valley"

The trek up the mountain,

A challenge welcomed

When all can be prayer.

This title is another Bhutanese road sign. I make no promises that it is the last title I will steal from them. In the past two days, I have gotten to hike to Buddha Point, just above Thimphu, and all the way to Taktseng, or Tiger's Nest, monastery outside of Paro. These two pilgrimages capped an incredible week of learning, meeting officials, and shopping for supplies.

In the past week, I have had the great honor of meeting high ranking Bhutanese officials: the Minister of Education and the head of the Royal Civil Service. We have also been briefed by the Education Monitoring Support Service and Department of Curriculum Research and Development. All of our meetings and briefings have demonstrated the strongly held commitment to relevant and quality education. The way people talk about education here is the way I have always wanted to hear it talked about in the U.S. Perhaps it seems like our system is working and that we have good ideas, but I am far more impressed with the values set out by the Bhutanese curriculum (check out Educating for GNH). What floors me the most is that these officials are so grateful to us for coming and helping with education here. For my part, I am filled with gratitude. It is an incredible privilege and honor to be here to serve the students, teachers, and educational system of Bhutan.

In the vein of incredible, the hike to Taktseng monastery was that. Taktseng is where Guru Rimpochey (Padma Sambhava) flew into Bhutan on the back of tiger in 747 AD, establishing Buddhism. It is quite a sight, perched on a sheer cliff, and pretty much a "must see".

On Sunday, Karma arranged a bus to the base so we could visit this revered sight. The hike up was quite steep, and I was impressed by my fellow hikers: children, elderly men and women, people with flip flops. Not quite halfway we came to a large prayer wheel and a commotion of tourists, among them Ms. Universe Hong Kong 2008, who we had just read in the Kuensel (one of the newspapers) was visiting for a few days as the guest of a teacher. The monastery peeked into view numerous times as we climbed, reminding us of our goal. At the monastery, we left our bags and I took my pearl prayer beads and incense inside. There are some rules to visiting monasteries, so the Bhutanese people were all in kira and gho (national dress). Before entering the altar rooms, you remove your shoes. Incense, food, and money are offered, and there is usually a monk who pours holy water in your hand, which you sip, then put on your head. After visiting several of the inner altars and soaking in the blinding bright sunlight on the veranda, I made my way back down. We stopped for tea and biscuits at the cafeteria at the halfway point and then scampered behind Karma as he led the way down even steeper shortcuts. At the base again, we drove to Paro for a glorious lunch with masala chai (the best I've had so far, and I've had a lot).

Reflecting on the week and what's ahead, I feel inspired. There will be challenges, there have been already, but I am ready to trek through them and use them to teach me. Challenge shows us our edges, where we are inclined to take to habit instead of push ourselves and grow. Hiking always offers the body a challenge, but accomplishment and beauty are the gifts received for surrendering to the difficulty. All things pass, including challenges. So I find again the lesson of being present with whatever is in every moment, especially when the moments are full of immense beauty like I experienced today. Again, "it is not really, enjoy the valley".

"Inconvenience Regretted"

No longer a dream

These mountains, reality

In them: my future

The journey of getting to Bhutan has ended, and now the journey of living here begins. I keep blinking my eyes, my brain nearly disbelieving that this is my reality. These far rising mountains studded with prayer flags, strange beautiful birds, tall pines. The valley, dotted with adorned traditional houses, fields (many plowed by hand), bridges with prayer flags like kite tails crossing the low rushing river. There are no comparisons I have seen to this place.

I am now in Thimphu, the capital, after staying in Paro (where the airport is) a day and night, waiting for the last of the teachers to arrive. Here's a short recap of how the journey getting here went:

January 21: A suspender and suit clad Joe dropped me off at the chilly MSP airport for a supposed 7:55 am flight to Chicago. At the ticket desk, I was informed that my flight was cancelled and was put on the 10:00 am flight. I was also informed that my one checked bag would make it all the way to Bangkok, where I would pick it up and then check it in again at Druk Air (the Bhutanese airline). After laying teary-eyed on the airport bench for a few hours, I boarded my flight to Chicago. In Chicago, I ran to my Hong Kong gate with very little time to spare. 15 1/2 hours of flying ahead of me, I began to question why I was going to Bhutan in the first place. I looked at my "mission statement" Camille had advised me to write, and I remembered what an opportunity this is, what a complete and immense gift I am being given. I remembered my intentions of serving others, of experiencing a new place and culture deeply, of living in a far simpler way. Instead of sadness, I filled myself with the love of my friends and family that I have the honor of embodying in my journey. I thought of how they would want me to live this new experience: with my heart and eyes open and my face smiling.

January 22: I arrived in Hong Kong for a short layover and promptly left for Bangkok. In Bangkok, a very kind Thai airport employee met me at my gate and informed me that my bag had not left Chicago. He taxied me to the passport line (with a Bhutanese monk also in tow), after which I went and spoke to more very kind Thai airport employees and filed a baggage report. I rested in the knowledge that though my bag had not arrived, I had, and that everything would be alright no matter what the outcome. I was strangely calm the whole time, keeping my mantra of grace and ease for my travels.

In the airport, I met a few of the other teachers with BCF and we all shared our anxieties and stories. It was good to meet people who were going through the same experience and we got to laugh together. They are all wonderful people and I was so happy to finally meet them.

January 24: After a few hours, we went to check in at Druk Air. I have never seen so many people checking flat-screen TVs onto a flight. When it came to my turn, they didn't even weigh my carry on (which I was told could only be 11 lbs). No ones bags were weighed, in fact. Still, I am grateful for packing light- I am learning that I actually don't need so many things.

We boarded our flight for Bhutan, the airplane smelled sweet like incense (what?!). We stopped in India to let some passengers off, and 35 minutes later we were making a sharp turn into a mountain ringed landing in Paro. Stunning. Walking down the steps into the Bhutanese air, I inhaled the pine scent and bright clear air. I nearly walked backwards into the small airport, taking in the view all around us.

We were greeted by Karma and Meena, the Bhutanese staff of BCF. They are lovely and helpful people. Karma and I talked to baggage about my bag, we exchanged some money at the bank since they would be closed the next day, and then boarded a van with decorative pillows to our hotel in Paro.

After a tight-road drive to the Deschen Resort, we were assigned rooms and I flattened onto my bed, my legs unbending for the first time in nearly two days, my eyes resting. Lunch was served, and I tasted my fist bite of real Ema Datse (chilies and cheese). The food was so welcome after the fake airplane meals of the past days.

After lunch, Karma showed 4 other teachers and I a way to walk into the countryside. We embarked on a lovely walk on a dirt road past houses, fields, flags. We attempted to greet people with our timid Dzongkha, saying "kuzuzengpo la". We received curious looks, smiles, and waves in return.

Back at the hotel, Karma tried to help me to connect to the internet, unsuccessfully, and we called the Thai airport to make sure the bag would make it to Paro before we left the next day. I could feel myself getting anxious about telling my family and Joe I had arrived safely and that everything was amazing- that they shouldn't be the least bit worried. Again, I thought of how they would want me to be in this situation, and I relaxed and continued to take in the people I was with and the scenery we were in.

After dinner in town, amazing food again, I fell into my bed at 8:30 pm and slept as if under a mountain. I woke up at 6:20 for a morning walk into Paro with Karma, Martin, Martha, and Tim. I love learning about the other teachers lives, they are all so interesting! Karma was an amazing guide and told us so much about Paro and the culture. We passed the giant Dzong (center of government/monastery), a 17th century cantilever bridge, and an archery field being set for a match.

After breakfast of masala tea and a masala omelet (?!) we waited for the rest of the teachers to arrive. My bag came with the teachers and we all left for lunch in Paro before continuing on to Thimphu. The road to Thimphu was windy and we passed many incredible sights as we followed the river there. Along the road, a sign was posted "inconvenience regretted". I laughed out loud as I thought how perfect a way to say "sorry". All the waiting, losing my bag, and not being able to communicate to my family as easily as I had foreseen, these were all "inconveniences regretted". They seemed trivial in the midst of what was happening- the immense beauty, the new people, this new experience. I breathed and smiled and continued the never ending practice of being present with what is.

6 days...

Departure

How to leave a place

before you leave, in limbo,

half packed, still attached?

So here I am on the brink. It is odd that now the real goodbyes have begun. Many people know I am leaving, think I've left, are surprised to see me still here. It is a strange space to live in.

To set the record straight: I depart on January 21st (Saturday) bright and early in the morning. After Joe says "Tuck and roll, Toots!" at the airport, I go to Chicago, then Hong Kong, Bangkok, and finally Paro. From Paro, all the teachers go to Thimphu for a two-week orientation. After that: our school sites. I will be in Rukubji (elevation of 3000 m) which is a 10 min walk from the main road of Bhutan and not far from a larger city, Trongsa. I have my own apartment, which is a 3 minute walk from school. I'll be teaching primary school English to 4,5, & 6 graders. There are only 150 students in my whole school. Quite a dramatic change from Anwatin where I was responsible for that many ESL students, in a school of over 550.

Speaking of school, in the weeks leading up to departing, I have been taking a few substitute teaching jobs for friends. It has been really great to get back in the classroom, even as a sub, and it has made me re-excited for teaching in Bhutan and perhaps when I return.

Thank you to everyone who has been supporting me this far. I feel like this has been and will be a collective experience in many ways. If I don't see you before I leave, I'll see you when I see you next (likely in 11 months)!

photo from :www.friendlyplanet.com/beautiful-bhutan.html