Tshering Che Nga (Dzongkha: ཚེ་རིང་མཆེད་ལྔ་) means “five Tshering sisters” and refers to the most popular mountain spirits – the five Tsheringma sisters, who are revered as protectors (they are categorised as lokpalas) by the Kagyu and the Nyingma schools of Vajrayana Buddhism. They are also simply known as Tsheringma, which means “mother of longeivity”. There are many tall Himalayan peaks named after them, or are considered as their abodes.

Legend has it they once wandered around the Himalayas along Tibet-Nepal border, terrorising pilgrims and traders, before they were subdued by Guru Padmasambhava, and later by Milarepa, into becoming tutelary deities to watch over dharma seekers and devotees. Their main abode is considered to be the Mt. Gaurishankar at the India-Tibet border. In Bhutan both Tsherim Gang and Jumolhari are believed to be where they dwell.

Being worldly deities (འཇིག་རྟེན་པའི་ལྷ།), Tshering Chenga are invoked mainly for mundane problems and needs such good health, wealth, success, and even beauty instead of enlightenment or after-life journeys. And hence they are very popular across the Himalayan region because they are believed to be very responsive. They are propitiated in annual family rituals and community festivals. Many family homes also keep idols of Tsheringma on the altar with other divinities.

Paro is believed to host all the Tsheringma sisters, making it a prosperous valley. The sacred abodes of the sisters are Dzongdrakha (Tinghi Zhay Zangma – Deity of the East), Paro Gangtey Lhakhang (Talkar Dro Zangma – North), Drangoe Gonpa (Tashi Tsheringma – Centre), Tengchen Gonpa (Miyo Lang Zangma – South), and Ramna (Choepen Drin Zangma – West).

The cult of Tsheringma is not just Paro or in Bhutan but across many Himalayan cultures and communities. For example, Mount Everest, the Sherpas believe, is the abode of Miyo Langzangma – second eldest of the Tsheringma sisters. Thus, every Sherpa who climbs Mt. Everest prays to Miyo Lang Zangma, for safety and for protection.

While every Tsheringma sister is as good as the other in terms of bestowing protections and blessings, there are few subtle differences. If you want a long life, go to Drangoe Gonpa. If you want to ward off some health issues, Paro Gangtey is the place. If you want to ensure you don’t go hungry and want prosperity, head for Tengchen Gonpa. If you want offsprings and your clan to increase, Ramna is good. And lastly, if you are in dilemma over something – a new career, job, or business – in that you are unsure of what do, go to Dzongdrakha and roll the dice. This is just to simplify things for easy reference. What is as important, and as powerful, is your faith, devotion and mindset that should be attuned to ultimately use your health and wealth towards service to humanity and to dharma – and not to enrich yourself for hedonistic purposes.

Also while there’re no religious requirements, it is believed that if one visits all the Tsheringma sisters in Paro in one day, you receive the highest blessings and you will prosper.

Dzongdrakha

Dzongdrakha is in Lungyi gewog. From Wochu, take the highway to Haa. When you reach reach the plateau where Druk Seeds farm is located, you can see Dzongdrakha on the left mountain, pasted on a vertical cliff like Taktshang. The feeder road to Dzongdrakha starts at the end of the plateau.

In the 15th century, a Tibetan yogi, Drupthop Gyempo Dorji followed his master in search of a place called Zhungphug in Bhutan. When he reached the present day Wochu, a jackal appeared to show him the way to the rocky cliff.

Legend says that the Guru appeared in person and passed him a crystal sword, with which he struck the rockface. A crystal stupa and three egg-shaped relics of Sangye Yoesung (Buddha Kashyapa) were revealed. Two of the relics flew off. One was taken by the divinities, and one by the subterranean beings. 

The half-stupa of Dzongdrakha

Drubthop Gyempo Dorji was leaving with the relic of Buddha Kashyapa when the people of Bongdey forced him to stay. He, therefore, called the village Bangdey (dominant village), which later became Bongdey.

He returned to Dzongdrakha and constructed a temple and installed the remaining relic and named the place as Dzongdrakha Goemba. His reincarnations started the Dzongdra Choeje lineage, who are still alive today. 

The most prominent among his followers was the 17th century lama and the first Rinpung Lam Neten, Jangchu Zangpo. He renovated the main temple with Guru Padmasambhava as the centre piece.

He also built a chorten (stupa) to secure the relics that trembles during the auspicious days. The chorten is curiously only half-built as the top one-third is believed to be in the realm of gods and the base is in the subterrains of the nagas. Legend says one day it will either fly away or drown in there.

Dzongdrakha is also the starting and the end point of the famous Paro Tshechu. A 7-day festival was initiated in Dzongdrakha but was moved to Paro Rinpung to attract more devotees. However, one of the masks (used for the religious dance) became restless and wouldn’t stay still till a compromise was made. The first and last days were then brought back to Dzongdrakha while the remaining 5 days stayed in Paro Dzong.

The mask, a part of Raksha Lengu dance, is still visible in Tsheringma temple.

Tsheringma Temple

Dzongdrakha is the abode of Thinggi Shyal Zangma (མཐིང་གི་ཞལ་བཟང་མ་ ) where a separate temple is dedicated to her. One can wish for victory, charm and safe journeys. She holds a silver mirror, for divination, in her right and a banner of victory in her left hand. Her mount is a mare.

Lam Namgay of Dzongdrakha adds that Dzongdrakha is more than that. He says that ancient terma scriptures talk about Guru Dorji Drolo hiding the Tsheringma Ter (sacred relics) in Dzongdrakha. Furthermore, Dzongdrakha has a Ter statue of Tashi Tsheringma (བཀྲ་ཤིས་ཚེ་རིང་མ་), which they named as Dokar Jom and which was found in the fields below. This makes Dzongdrakha a very powerful abode of Tsheringma, to the extent that if one really cannot visit the other four sites, one can just visit here and make their wish. 

Paro Gangtey Temple

Gangtey Temple is to the right at main gate of Hotel Gangtey Palace, facing Rinpung Dzong. From Taju take the feeder road towards Hotel Gangtey Palace.

The Gangtey Palace Temple is dedicated to the youngest of the Tshering Chhe Nga (The Five Sisters of Long Life), Talkar Dro Zangma. The temple faces the Paro Rinpung Dzong and it is believed that the paddy fields of Chang, which stands between these two important spiritual places, will always have a bounty harvest.

Talkar Dro Zangma (གཏལ་དཀར་འགྲོ་བཟང་མ་) is depicted holding durva grass (medicinal) in her right hand and a snake noose in her left hand to protect one from bad energy and sorcery. And so she helps fight off diseases, envy and sorcery. Her mount is a dragon.

Talkar Dro Zangma is the most beautiful of the five sisters, so says the caretaker, Pemba Tshering. She holds a bunch of the medicinal Durva grass on her right and a snake noose on her left. These signify that she has the power to cure diseases, if one earnestly have faith in her. Pemba says a mother bought a dying child who was given even by the doctors. A few months later, the child and the mother returned again. This time the child was unrecognizable, but cured and healthy. Pemba Tshering shares many other stories.

Talkar Dro Zangma with her snake noose also prevents malicious attacks both from humans as well as harmful nagas, losing one’s life force or fall sick. She counters natural disasters and epidemics, and so during the on-going pandemic more people have visited, as per Pemba.

The most interesting blessing is however the blessing of a child to childless couple. Pemba has many stories but there are two that are worth mentioning. First is a 46-year old woman who even at a such an advanced age didn’t give up the dream of motherhood. She became a mother. The second is a similar case but little more bitter sweet. The woman who wished for a child had a daughter but died few years later. The daughter who is now fully grown up considers Talkar Drozangma as her mother and visits here every month. Few more people do that too.

Drangoe Gonpa

Drangoe Gonpa is located above Olathang Hotel and Paro Hospital. When you reach Hotel gate, take the left feeder road without entering the hotel complex towards “Olathang School”. The Gonpa can be seen from Olathang School on the hill to the right.

Drangoe Gonpa was established by Barawa Lama Gyeltshen Pelzang in 1510. It was later turned over to Drukpa Kagyu with Jinpa Gyeltshen as the chief abbot. Tashi Tsheringma (བཀྲ་ཤིས་ཚེ་རིང་མ་), who is the eldest of the Tsheringma sisters, was the tutelary deity of the Barawa Kagyu, a subsect of the Upper Druk (Toe Druk) in Tibet. And Drangoe Gonpa was built in her honour. However, after the death of Barawa Lam, his disciples made the statue of the lama and the Kudung chorten as the centre piece of the temple. But for locals of the village by the same name, the place belongs to deity Tsheringma and in her they seek protection and prosperity.

The temple was offered to Zhabdrung Ngawang Namgyel who then appointed Namkha Gyeltshen as the first abbot from Zhung Dratshang.

Tashi means “goodness” or “auspiciousness”. She hold on her left hand the vase of immortality and thus her main power is the granting a long life to devotees. On her right hand is the sacred vajra to repell all threats to life. Her mount is a snow lioness. Thus when one visits Drangoe Gonpa, one can wish for long life and commit to spread the Dharma.

According to Lam Kado, the abbot of the temple, if one pursues the pilgrimage to all the temples of the Five Tsheringma, one must either begin or end in Drangoe Gonpa, because Tashi Tsheringma is the eldest sister. He added that children born in Paro Hospital consider Tashi Tsheringma as their birth deity. 

I would add that people hospitalised there could do well to seek the blessing for quick recovery to Tashi Tsheringma.

Tengchen Gonpa

Tengchen Gonpa is in Lango. From Paro town take the direction to Naktsel Resort. After a kilometer, take the feeder road marked “Tengchen Nunnery”.

Tengchen Gonpa is the abode of the second youngest of the Tshering Chhe Nga, Miyo Lang Zangma (མི་གཡོ་གླང་བཟང་མ་). She holds a bowl of rice on her left hand and a mongoose on her right that spits jewels. Her mount is a tiger. A devotion to Miyo Lang Zangma guarantees that you will never go hungry and will always bless you with a bountiful harvest and prosperity. The resident Lama, Thinley, says that Paro is the rice bowl of Bhutan because of the blessing of Miyo Lang Zangma.

The foundation for Tenchen Gonpa as the abode of Miyo Lang Zangma is attributed to Barawa Lama, Gyaltshen Pelzang, who had already established Drangoe Gonpa in the 14th century. It is believed that a small Densa (abode) was built by the Lama after which he invited the deity. Miyo Lang Zangma travelled from Tibet and when she reached Lango village, she spent a few days in a house helping the family to roast the wheat and grind the flour. The house still stands today. In fact the house has to host the religious procession statue of the annual deity ceremony on the eve of the Lomba – the local New Year of Paro.

Some four hundred years later, in the 19th century Sherub Gyaltshen, the 25th Je Khenpo of Bhutan, heard about the abode of Miyo Lang Zangma and wanted to verify the claim and possibly build a temple. He visited the place alone and was supposedly greeted by five beautiful girls. Je Sherub suspected that they were the deities and not ordinary humans, but pretended not to know and asked their names. One replied that they had only one name for all five, which was Mangala Rani (a Sanskrit term for deity). He then decided to build a temple and sent instructions to Rinpung Dzong to rally the people and resources. The gonpa was completed in 1849.

Miyo Lang Zangma vowed to protect people’s wealth and property – or help procure them. If you are financial luck is to be dim, maybe a visit to Tenchhen might help. 

Ramna House

Ramna is not a temple but a private house in Dop Shari. From the town go towards Paro Dzong. At the second bridge, do not cross it but go straight. It is the second house on the left after 300 meters from the bridge.

Ramna House is where Chöpen Drin Zangma (ཅོད་པན་མགྲིན་བཟང་མ་) took residence. She is depicted holding a wish-fulfilling jewel in her right and a jewel encrusted casket in her left hand. Her mount is a doe. And thus she is believed to help with fulfilling any wish – be it for having offsprings or wealth.

According to former gup Dago, Choepen Dri Zangma, is the youngest of the five sisters and this is where the pilgrimage ends. “In some Internet sources Choepen Drizangma is associated to Dzongdrakha, which then leads to confusions of where to start and where to end the pilgrimage, “ he adds. 

According to the family, there is no record as to when the deity landed in their house. They can trace to seven generations that have hosted the deity. What they know is that the five Tsheringma sisters first landed in Paro and met for one last time on a big boulder, near the house, before each of them parted ways. The big boulder is still visible today just before you reach the house. Choepen Dri Zangma heard that a woman in the house nearby needed help to deliver a baby and she offered to help. After that she made the house her abode.

Choepen Drinzangma is the all-purpose Tsheringma. If you have been having bad dreams, or omens, or if you are launching new projects, getting into marriage, having a baby or trying to have one, or have a new born child, she is the go-to Tsheringma – the wish-fulfilling one. 

Recommended itinerary

There are several versions as to where to start and where to end the pilgrimage. I conducted a detailed pilgrimage and some research to all the sites last year. My suggestion is, visit in this order: Drangoe Gonpa, Tengchen Gonpa, Ramna House, Paro Gangtey Lhakhang, and Dzongdrakha Lhakhang, so that we follow the traditional kar-ser-mar-jang pattern.

Or simply, just visit Dzongdrakha, which is believed to house the three aspects of devotion and reverance – Ter (relic), tehn (inner relic) and nye (sacred place).

Or if you are walking, follow the traditional itinerary, which starts from Dzongdrakha and ends in Ramna.

Paro is one of the most fertile valleys in Bhutan, and also the most productive with the best worked paddyfields in the country. People are very hardworking around here.

There is also another reason. Honour.

It is a disgrace to the family if the fields are left barren. However, with rising wages and declining rural population it is increasingly becoming difficult, if not impossible, to maintain this beauty.

If no policy interventions, such as providing state subsidies or intensive mecchanisation are initiated, it won’t be long before these flatlands turn into barren lands like in much of eastern Bhutan.

It will be just this generation who will hold on to that family honour or dignity – or whatever is left of it.

There is, of course, more than the family honour and pride, as to why we need to preserve this rice farming tradition in Bhutan.

It is cultural

Every plantation season and the harvest are accompanied by age-old rituals and traditions that make Paro, and other farming communities, the site of important cultural heritage and practices. Such cultural traditions shape individual identities as Bhutanese.

According to some culture studies scholars, throughout Asia, rice is still considered a sacred crop and “the ritual of harvesting rice has shaped Southeast Asian cultures and tradition for centuries.”

It is social

The activity of rice farming requires many hands. It thus brings people together. One theory as to why Asian countries and cultures are communal and family-centric is because of rice farming. Unity, communal harmony, collaborative mindsets will be lost if rice farming disappears and in its place will be individualism, ego and divisions.

Writing for the Scientific American, psychologist David Biello shares a study from China where they found that “the cooperation required to plant, tend and harvest rice grown paddy-style makes those born in southern China think more communally than those born in northern China, where the primary crop is easier-to-farm wheat.”

It is spiritual

Rice farming is not a random activity. You cannot pick a random date to start ploughing the fields. The community decides based on the advices of astrologers as to when the earth can be disturbed. Accordingly a lama kicks off the plantation season with a ceremony to mother earth, and only then the community can start tilling the mud.

Likewise the first harvest, which consist of a bowl of freshly ground rice, is offered to deities and divinities, as a mark of gratitude for their protection and blessings. The reverance for earth, the power of reciprocal blessings and the aspirations of the lamas and the farmers will eventually strengthen the spiritual equity for future generations.

Rice, therefore, is not just a Ministry of Agriculture issue, but a national one, if one can understand, and appreciate everything that revolves around it.

The high Himalayan mountains have been known to the locals around them as the abodes of the divine. For example, Mt. Jumolhari and Mt. Tshering Khang (the two left peaks in the picture) are considered the abodes of Jumo Tashi Tsheringma, the longevity and prosperity deity revered in Vajrayana Buddhism.

Mountain dwellers, all over the Himalayas, especially those living in high altitudes such as the Sherpas in Nepal and the Layaps in Bhutan make daily offerings to either appease them or seek her blessing. Likewise, other high peaks and even lower mountains are the spiritual sanctuaries of a pantheon of Vajrayana Buddhist gods and deities making the region highly sacred.

In recent years, many Tibetologists and anthropologists working in the Himalayas are questioning this concept based on the local terminology and the related translation. Some argue that something has been lost in translation since the “mountain deity” does not appear in any scriptures in Tibetan Buddhism. Instead there are many references to “divine mountains” such as lhari (ལྷ་རི་). 

The question is: are some of the mountains deities themselves?

To cite an example, the three sacred mountains in the main Haa valley, in western #Bhutan, locally known as Meri Puensum (Three Divine Siblings) are revered as the embodiments of the three bodhisattvas of Jampelyang (Manjushri), Chana Dorje (Vajrapani), and Chenrizig (Avalokiteshvara).

Divine mountains and the mountains of the divine are, therefore, two different concepts altogether and proper understanding of this concept is key to understanding on how traditional communities in Bhutan and the Himalayan region make sense of the places. In fact the conventional wisdom of the local respect for nature, and living in harmony with environment is drawn from this belief, which if contested or discounted would have profound impact on the environment itself.

Coming back to translation, for instance, “Tsen” is translated as “mountain deity”. The translation does not hold when it is translated back to Dzongkha, which is necessary for a translation to hold water.

Dongkala (also written as Dongkarla) Gonpa was established in the 16th century by Terton Tshering Dorji, who was a student of Drubwang Rinchen Choedor of Mendrup Gonpa.

Story has it that Drubwang Rinchen Choedor, who was the resident lama of Mendrup Gonpa, saw a fireball on the peak of Dongkala, which was unusual. He instructed Tshering Dorji to take a hike up and check out.

Terton Tshering Dorji found a ter (sacred relic), which was discovered by Terton Pema Lingpa from Mebar Tsho (Burning Lake) and which had flown in to Dongkala. This ter can be seen in the main altar room on the top floor, today.

In the same altar room of the temple are the urn, which the infamous thief wanted to steal, and the Kaypi Marmey (Eternal Butter Lamp), which has been burning since the foundation of the temple in the 16th century. A kudrung chorten (memorial stupa) of Terton Tshering Dorji is on the left side of the altar, and believed as wish-fulfilling stupa.

And then my favorite – the rescued statue of Guru Padmasambhava, which came from another temple in the area. Apparently, that temple was caught by an accidental fire and the statue cried for help to rescue it. The statue is believed to have been brought by a single person, despite its size.

Dongkarla is also the abode of the powerful mountain deity Dongko Tsen, Lotey, who according to one story prevented a thief from stealing a sacred urn from the temple. The thief got his hand stuck on the vase. Desperate to leave when dawn broke, the thief chopped his wrist and escaped leaving behind his severed hand. The mummified hand is still visible in the goenkang today and is a main attraction for the visitors.

While the Zhung Dratshang manages the gonpa, the goenkang (altar room of the guardian deity) still maintains the dharma protectors of the Peling tradition, such as Gonpo Maning Nagpo, and the daily propitiating rituals are conducted in their honour. The goenkang also has mural paintings of several local deities such as Genyen Jakpa Melen, and Dongko Tsen Lotey.

Dongkala is the most beautiful viewpoint in the Thimphu-Paro region. On a clear day, you can see as far as Mt Kanchenjunga to the west (Nepal-Sikkim border), and Mt. Jumolhari, Tsherim Khang, and the most beautiful Mt. Jichu Drakey to the north. To the east, one can see the Table Mountain and Mt. Gangkar Puensem, the highest unclimbed peak in the world. To the south, you can see  Takti Peak.

Mendrup Gonpa

A visit to Dongkala is, of course, incomplete if one does not visit Mendrup Gonpa, which is on the hill below. This is because the two temples were respectively founded by the Lama and his disciple, and thus the sacred Lama-Loma Damtsig is a powerful source of blessing and inspiration.

Mendrup literally means “Medicine Making” and is named after Drubwang Rinchen Choedor, who was an accomplished medicine maker. Even today, the stone grinder he used is believed to possess the power to cure skin diseases and muscular pain.

Mendrup Gonpa was founded by Drubwang Rinchen Choedor, who was a prominent disciple of Terton Pema Lingpa. In fact he was assigned to the western regions of Bhutan by Terton to hold the Peling tradition.

It is believed that Drubwang Rinchen had hundreds of students, some of whom were the likes of Terton Tshering Dorji, who established Dongkarla; terton Ngawang Drakpa, who established the Neyphu Gonpa; and Lam Sangay who built Jabdho Gonpa.

Mendrup Gonpa is still under the patronage of Gangtey Trulku Rimpoche, the mind reincarnation of terton Pema Lingpa, while Neyphu Gonpa is under the spiritual leadership of the line of reincarnation of Ngawang Drakpa, referred to as Neyphu Trulku.

The centerpiece of Mendrup Gonpa are the stone grinder, and the footprint of the Drubwang.

Getting there

At Shaba Bridge, on the Paro-Thimphu highway, take the dirt road to the left and drive upstream. And follow the sign to Yuthok Gonpa first, and then continue uphill and drive past Dra Karp.

The first temple to the right is Mendrup Gonpa. From there you will see Phurdo Gonpa on the left and Dongkarla on the right peak

#dongkala #paro #bhutan #pemalingpa #terton #peling #mendrup

I see lots of our people, especially youth, these days who are inspired by this college-dropping story of Bill Gates, Mark Zukerberg or Elon Musk, who nonetheless have made it big. This implies education is not important.

Well, what one must also know is that these people were born with silver spoon in their mouth. They did not grow up being fed on WFP supplies or walking barefoot. Or go hungry even for a minute. They didn’t start off with no money. Otherwise they would also stayed there. Broke.

Bill’s mom was apparently a board member of IBM computers, who probably played a role in buying Bill’s software called MsDOS to drive the PCs. Mark’s parents were wealthy millionaire-doctors who could afford to send him to kindergarten where school fees were 30K per year. Elon Musk family owned an emerald mine in Zambia. To be able to enroll in Ivy league colleges, you have to be from a well-to-do family. To be able to drop off, you got to be really rich.

Hence, to be impressed by these people is fine, but for inspiration, look closer to those around you – unless you want to languish in a corner of a bar and whine all your life. Otherwise you have to have the right connections or solid financial backing like them – or both.

For most of us, the proleteriat from the fringes of the society, what matters is your education, and your zeal for lifelong learning, new skills, and hard work. A good education with a sound all-around knowledge is your only passport in life for you to move up the social and economic ladder. At least, it was in my case.

Fill your life and your social media feeds with people whom you can emulate and from whom you can learn one thing every day – and not with celebrities you dream of, or with billionaires whose life you will never have.

In one of my favourite films from my childhoo days, The Good, Bad, and the Ugly, Biondi (played by Clint Eastwood) tells the Ugly.

“You see, in this world there’s two kinds of people, my friend: Those with loaded guns and those who dig. You dig.”

Yes, put your heads down and keep digging. We don’t have the gun.

June 24, 2022 – The Summer Solstice has just passed by.

According to Buddhist legends, it is believed that the Sun returns from the North, and journeys to the South, after paying a visit to the Guardian King of the North, Namsey Zambala (Kubera) – the deity of wealth and prosperity in Buddhism.

The Summer Solstice is, therefore, a time for celebration and propitiation for wealth, good harvest, long life and prosperity. Usually a ritual to the wealth deity Zambala is conducted. The central monastic body still does these ceremonies. Devotees also recite Kuenzang Moelam (ཀུན་ཏུ་བཟང་པོའི་སྨོན་ལམ་ kuntuzangpö mönlam) for general wellbeing.

On the other hand, the Winter Solstice is a time when the Sun returns from the South, where the Guardian King is Shin-jey (Yama Raj), whose is also the Lord of Death. Around the Winter Solstice, Bhutanese perform “obstacles and death-preventing rituals” such as Jabzi and Mikha Kharam, and propitiating rituals to Tshepamay (Longeivity Buddha) and to Worldly deities such as Tsheringma. All included in what is term as Lho-choe or chhoga.

Supreme to all rituals is, however, Drolma Yuldog, which literally means “Obstacles removing Tara ritual”. Since Tara represents both a wealth-giving deity as well as obstacle-removing and enlightenment-granting divinity, there is nothing better than conducting Drolma Yuldog. Even Guru Padmasambhava is believed to have conducted Drolma Yuldog for King Thrisong Detsen, to pave way for the success of Samye monastery construction in Tibet.

The founder of Mahayana, Nagarjuna (Gyempo Ludrup in Bhutanese), is believed to have written the Drolma Yuldhog ceremony to help him win the Great Debate against the Theravada elders.

The Buddhist master, Atisha Dipankar, who revived Buddhism in Tibet in the 11th century, is supposed to have invoked Mother Tara when he found himself in a sea storm on his way to Indonesia.

Drolma Yuldog is basically the invocation of all 21 Taras, in which different Tara serve different roles and purpose. My favourite Taras are Tsugtor Namgyelma and Drolma Kurkulle. The ritual is parricularly recommended for people born with birth mewa 7 and for women.

May the Super Mother Tara bless all.

Tara #drolma #ritual #vajrayana

🏌‍♂️🏄‍♂️🏃‍♂️🏊‍♂️🧘🧘‍♂️
I took a break from the social media to get some few things done. I dropped my daughter to college, and while in Thailand I did a silent retreat, I caught up with some old friends, did some great writings (two books next year), had a health check-up (details below), and got my teeth fixed. To paraphrase my favorite uncle, late Ugyen Wangdi, I have reached an age where I have to look for spare parts 😂

OK. Back to health check-up. I knew that the series of lockdowns would have ruined my health in some way. After all, all I was doing was eat, sit, watch TV, work the laptops and sleep.

In fact my cholesterol, trygleceride, uric acid, and bilirubin had all crossed the upper limit. This is happening for the first time. I have also become overweight by 10 kilos. There were no symptoms whatsoever. It was just my gut-feeling that the lockdowns would have affected my health in some way.

So, to all my friends, get your blood CBC test and check your weight before they cause you further damages. This advice is especially for those who have entered the spare-parts age.
😁😁😁

And how is Bangkok? It was empty, devoid of tourists, and half the malls and shops, which I had been going for the past 25 years, have all disappeared. Unlike here, there is no kidu system. You are on your own. The shops I entered treated me like royal guest. And when I paid for things I bought, it was as if I was gifting them free money.

The Thai government has now relaxed all travel restrictions but arrival is only 7% as compared to the same period in 2019.

So, with all the talks of reopening to tourism here in Bhutan, I don`t think there would be a windfall. It would take at least another 2 to 3 years for the travel industry to become normal.

If the pandemic was bad looks like an impending global recession will be worse for the travel industry.

Two friends of mine sent me a few Facebook posts and asked me what I thought (because I am out of the social media). So let me share here, what I shared with them in case some readers find it useful.

Post 1 – A person was supposedly spreading Covid around. (I am not sure if he or she was doing this knowingly or unknowingly). What was definite was that this person was breaking the lockdown rules and was going around – and was allegedly evading calls from Health officials because his/her test returned positive.

Post 2 – FB users are arguing against the government decision to continue with the lockdown, and instead are proposing that Bhutan should start living with the virus. 

Well, let me explain these two cases as an academic/researcher. What does social science say about this behaviour and feelings? I will refrain from making any legal or moral judgment. Other professionals may do that if they wish.

The common thread that binds the two case scenarios is called the perception of risk – as in how people respond when confronted with external threats and risks. While it may sound like a common-sense to think that this virus is dangerous and we need to stay away from it, one psycho-social theory on this topic has a different take. How each one of us, as individuals, perceive a risk varies from person to person. It is considered as a subjective feeling and not an objective and universal realisation. It is even different from nation to nation and from profession to profession. It is also different between men and women, or between a daily-wage worker and an industrialist, or between a teenager and an adult. 

How individuals perceive a risk varies from person to person.

Strange, right? But it’s true. That’s why some people smoke although every research shows it will cause cancer. Then there are high-risks sports like rock climbing, bungee jumping, motor racing, skydiving where you are hundreds of times more likely to be killed than, say, if you play football. Same explanation goes for risky sexual behaviours and the increase in HIV/AIDS cases. We all perceive risks in different manners and indulge in risky behaviours because we are all different – psychologically and physiologically to start with – and followed by our socio-cultural circumstances and upbringing. One could also speculate something like: Even if Ebola hits us, there will be people, still, wandering around, or questioning the lockdowns and travel restrictions.

Psychologists have identified several factors that determine our perceptions of risk. I will explain a few here, and in brief: 

• Familiarity – When the first covid patient was announced, Thimphu became a ghost town. Now we have 100+ case load appearing every day and “Red buildings” everywhere, but we want the PM to call off the lockdown. It is because we feel “familiar” with this whole issue. Besides, the never-changing public health messaging of “wash your hand” and “wear mask” reinforces this familiarity bias.
• Personal agency to control the situation – We are told that if we are vaccinated, and if we mask up, stay away from crowds, and wash your hands regularly, we are safe. When we have some level of confidence that we can control some things, some of us will jump. The public messaging has not moved beyond these 4 do’s – making some people more confident.
• Physiological response – Two physiological responses are relevant here. First, our body’s production level of adrenaline and dopamine determines if we are natural-born risk takers. That’s why some people are sky jumpers and early adopters while others are no risk-takers at all. Second, fear activates the reptilian lobe of our brain. But this does not last long. Within minutes, actually, the neocortex and limbic areas begin to reactivate and people start reasoning and rationalising thereafter. And unless there is a new stimulus with new information and knowledge we will begin to form our own cognitive biases that best serve our personal interests.
• Cost-benefits analysis – After the initial fears fade away, the rational brain starts to do the cost-benefit analysis. Am I forgoing too many opportunities by staying put? Won’t we all die one day anyway? What is real risk? Is it worth taking? This explains why tobacco smugglers got into action, because there was a huge mark-up.
• Fair Vs unfair debate. It is a natural tendency for people to always compare – and play the victim card. “It is not fair because they have monthly salary deposited while there is nothing for me”. “It is not fair that bordering towns remain in lockdown more than Thimphu or Paro”. “Why are some shops open, and mine is told to be closed?” And worse (I have heard one man say this), “This is a rich man disease and we are all locked up to protect the elites. It is not fair. I have nothing to lose if I die.”
• The fear factor– How much do we have to fear? And here again, people will seek information from sources that fit their preconceived notion. Such as, the fatality rate of Omicron is 0.0025%, or 1 in 40,000, which is lesser than that of the common flu – and lot less than other diseases that we have been living with. Or, I know someone who got it and without coughing even once he was declared recovered. Your frontal neocortex will also starts philosophising after being in a hard lockdown for months. What is the use of living like this? What is the meaning of life? Third year into the pandemic, fear is the last thing that one wants to hear – or think about. So save your resources instead of pouring into the fear tactics.
• Life is precious but not everybody – Unfortunately different people value the preciousness of life differently. I am not talking about enlightened monks or my grandmother. In between the two lockdowns, and across the street I saw a worker cutting the tiles without mask. I told him that he might suffer from silicosis in the long run, besides catching covid. His reply was, “My life is worthless, la. I have nothing. I am not even married, Ha Ha Ha”.

So, to shout at someone, “Don’t you know that you will die?” or to remind that it is our collective gyenkhu (responsibility) or to say, “We have to protect the vulnerable” will have very little traction and buy-in, especially when the situation like this pandemic lingers on for so long. The collective becomes secondary when the bank balance is dropping like a rock – or when life itself begins to appear meaningless. Mind you, we are in the third year of the pandemic, and the end is nowhere in sight.

The physiological response to any threatening situation is termed as fight-or-flight mode, which is to either resist forcefully or to run for cover. From the Facebook posts that I have read, it appears that people have decided to resist it. Why and how we reached to this calls for another debate altogether. Again, these are purely brief academic assessments. It is for others to also chip in within their domains of expertise or responsibility, and ultimately for our leaders to make the tough call – based on everything that they can gather from everyone else.

However, understanding that each one of us perceive the risk in different manners – and that we are all different – psychologically and physiologically and not just socially or economically, is a good starting point to come up with better decisions, or to improve the public messaging through something called a strategic risk communication.

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Who am I? I am the story I tell myself. We are the story we tell ourselves.

You want to know yourself; you want to discover who you are, or what constitutes your self-identity? Pay attention to what kind of stories you tell. If your stories are of bringing happiness to those around you, making a difference in someone’s life, helping fellow sentient beings you are a great person. That’s who you are. That’s your self-identity.

The stories you tell provides a window to your subconscious minds. When you reflect on these stories, you learn about yourself – your values, your intentions, and what are meaningful to you.

The British cultural studies scholar, Stuart Hall, defined national identity as “the story we tell ourselves”. As a nation, we are the stories we tell ourselves. 

Who am I? I am the story I tell

Who do I want to be here on?You want to know how you will do in life, or what future has in store for you? Pay attention to what kind of stories you tell yourself – inside of yourself – that story that keeps replaying in your head. Quite often it is a story about blame games where everyone is wrong, where everything is unfair, and where everything is someone’s fault, your future will be like the present. You are stuck.

The beauty of telling stories is that you don’t have to keep playing the sad stories in your head. You can create a new one or change the story. Your past does not necessarily make you who you want to be. You can reset the story. When we change the story we tell, we change the way we see the world, and our place within it.

Back in the early 2000s, when I was continuously bullied in BBS, I kept telling myself: “It is not fair. I built this place. It was a small radio station when I came in. I changed it. I brought the technology. I brought in the foreign donors. I started the TV. I started the FM radio.” That story came rewinding in my brain

Then one fine day I told myself: “Wait! Is my destiny (lungten in Bhutanese) here coming to an end? Is the universe telling me something? Is my fate calling me somewhere?” Maybe. I thought. 

I took a week leave, flew to Thailand to reflect in peace. Then after few days, instead deciding to come back, I mailed in my resignation. I felt a huge cloud cleared over me. I felt free. I called my friends in Europe. Someone sent me an air ticket, and gave me a place to stay. I wandered there around for a month. I had lived in Italy for 8 years as a student and knew that continent well and had enough friends who could feed me for months, if I wanted.

The year was 2006..

So, what is your story?

For years now, our normal ways of doing things have stretched us to the limit. Anything beyond, or besides, the norm was unthinkable – even intolerable. Making multiple visits for a simple service, whether it is from a government office or from a private sawmill, was normal – as it was normal to expect, and wait for, the state to provide everything. Conversely, new ideas, empathy, accountability, risk-taking, sense of duty, or thinking out-of-the-box became rare commodities. One dictionary definition of normal puts it as mediocre, average, and usual. With normality we have thus sunk into mediocrity – a dangerous disease that plagues our system and our society today. Power cuts, potholed highways, substandard public works, non-existent after-sales services, get-rich-quick mindsets, are norms rather than exceptions.

Then, Covid-19 happened. And disruptions and innovations became the norm.

Many public services went online. More utility bills were settled from a smartphone, and cooking gas and vegetables got delivered at our doorsteps. University graduates took up menial work. Zoom meetings replaced in-person travels and foreign trips. You don’t even have to get out of your car in the pouring rain to register at the checkpoints. Few days back I voted for my Gewog leaders in Tashigang by just walking over to a polling booth in Thimphu. Covid-19 has shown us that when we think beyond the norm, everything is possible.

The pandemic brought us together. For once since democracy dawned on us, we became one nation. We put our differences and designations on hold. We had parliamentarians and former ministers patrolling the streets in freezing cold and donning the simple and honest Desuung outfits. Soldiers, policemen, civil servants, and desuups walked in the blistering heat of the South. Our health workers worked past their breaking points. Farmers donated their precious produce. Businesses and private citizens wrote cheques to the Relief Fund. Students emptied their pocket money. Humanity took over hierarchy, commonality over compartmentalism, and abundance over scarcity.

Humanity took over hierarchy, commonality over compartmentalism, and abundance over scarcity.

Above all, led by our King, we brought the pandemic under control while achieving the fastest vaccination rate in the world. What else can we not do when we put our minds together? What is there that we cannot accomplish when we move beyond our comfort zones? The coronavirus has taught us that when a nation is united around a common cause extraordinary things ensue. When people agree on what is important, they reach for the unimaginable. This pandemic will subside one day. Do we then jump at the first opportunity to get back to our old self, to the comfort zone and to the old normal? Or do we maintain our new we? 

Living within our means

In the post-covid19 era, we must aim to live with, and within, our own means and manpower. Self-reliance may be an ambitious dream, but it is not an impossible one. I have always believed that nothing is that difficult to be addressed or achieve. Things are difficult because we make it difficult. We let our ego precede our responsibilities and our abilities. We work in silos with us-versus-them mindsets. We also know what needs to be done. We have all the ideas and solutions. However, we don’t do what has to be done – because everything is about optics nowadays. Everyone wants to look good. Everybody wants to gain or retain favours. Meanwhile, our country gently weeps.

So, where do we start? We can start from the government. For, only when the system and people working in it facilitate growth and creativity, can the society generate more wealth and wellbeing. The Parliament has just endorsed the tax incentives for businesses in the Red Zone. Can we say that this is just a beginning? We should start small. We could aim for food self-sufficiency, for instance. Let’s be able to feed ourselves. Make that the short-term national goal. This virus will be tamed sooner or later, but another will appear, as humans push deeper into the wild such as the Amazon rainforest, or as mutations get easier because of global warming. We need to be more prepared. We can also cut wasteful expenditures like luxury cars, posh offices, ceremonial gates, tours and travels and ill-conceived and substandard public works. Fiscal policies should aim at increasing production and productivity of the citizens – and not pay for complacency and consumption. The word ‘growth’ must replace ‘development’ in the national planning mindset. As a sociolinguist and communication scholar, trust me, vocabulary matters.

The word ‘growth’ must replace ‘development’ in the national planning mindset.

The path to economic self-reliance does not end with the government. It is a massive undertaking – one that will require us to look way beyond the civil service. Any sociology student would have heard about systems theory, which postulates a ‘society as a complex arrangement of players, including individuals and their beliefs, as they relate to a whole’ such as a nation. Simply put, no major social issue, or a national cause, can be addressed by one section of the society, or for that matter by a single sector in the government. Do you ever wonder why none of our major problems gets solved? It will take the whole government, private sector, universities, schools, farmers – basically every citizen – to achieve the economic self-reliance. Like, we won’t get anywhere if citizens are lavish, spoiled or hedonistic.

Furthermore, it will also take several generations and many elected governments to get there. And this is where I am a bit sceptical – and not because of our quick-fix mentality but for the slash-and-burn approach that we are seeing more now. Some time back, I met a very senior retired government official on the Sangaygang road. Over a brief chat, one thing he told me was: once you are out of the circle your legacies are erased. My heart sank hearing that. Younger generations and newer political leadership should build on the shoulders of those who came before them. Otherwise, there is no way that we can go very far if we don’t learn from, or honour, the past legacies. Or if we keep engaging in cosmetic changes like renaming an organisation.

Building a society of trust

Last January, resourcing a Zoom session on education reform, attended by over 80 participants, I was asked to make just one recommendation to improve the education system. I had only one word: trust. Yes, trust and mutual respect are in short supply these days. Otherwise, there is no dearth of knowledgeable people and ideas, or even resources for that matter. But unless we trust our own people, and maximise our human resources, no major reforms will happen. No saviours will descend from a foreign land. We will have to build our own country. We will have to solve our own problems. To put it in a Bhutanese adage, we will have chew our own peebles.

Somewhere along we have coined our own version of the “Cancel Culture”. We reject our professionals as “so-called experts”. We brush-off our youth as spoiled brats. We treat our senior citizens as old timers. We scrap our entrepreneurs as profit hungry. Anyone outside the civil service is a lesser citizen. Even within the same ministry, or within the government, there are mutual misgivings. That’s why information sharing between state institutions has become a mirage. 

Trust must start somewhere. Like we could look objectively at the excessive regulations, and the need for collaterals and committees and heaps of documents and signatures. Some checks-and-balances are necessary to protect the public interest. Anything excessive, or unpredictable, stifles the innovations and opportunities. Again, it is not that Bhutan has bad laws or regulations. Actually the opposite is true – as in it has some of the best policies and legislations in the world. Where things go horribly wrong is when you wake up one morning and find that your business became illegal overnight (unpredictability). It was banned. Or when you go to a government office and find that a certain regulation was changed six months before (inconsistency) and no public notification was issued. Or even worse still, when the rules are given multiple interpretations with every change in the dealing person (irregularity), or you get different answers from different people in the same office (contradictory).

One thing to also note is that the overpowering, inconsistent and blanket rules are not only putting a brake on people’s motivation and growth, they are also hampering the progress and opportunities for the government agencies themselves. To cite a simple example, the ban on drones is limiting its usage for aerial surveys (National Land Commission, Department of Forest), for patrolling (Royal Bhutan Army, Royal Bhutan Police), for rescue operations (Police, Desuung and the Department of Disaster Management), for medical deliveries (Ministry of Health), or for research, development, creativity (Royal University of Bhutan, and the film industry). Rules are not cheap either. They are expensive to administer. That’s why we have a bloated bureaucracy. 

Trust entails a sense of ownership and belonging. Distrust breeds indifference and apathy, at best. Unless we correct all the above, Australia beckons and the brain-drain will gain further momentum.

We are a very small country that can purely operate from a space of trust

We are a very small country that can purely operate from a space of trust. Ideally provisional permits can be issued on the spot to enable the applicants to hit the ground running. The concerned public office can then check the credentials of the applicant with other state agencies and grant the final approval. It is possible. For example, when I enrolled for my PhD at the University of Macau in 2016, I couldn’t produce a few critical documents, like my original degree certificates from my previous universities, because I never made it to any of the convocations. The Admission Office let me in nevertheless, on a written assurance from me that I would produce the originals within three months, which I did. What is possible in Macau that is not possible in Bhutan? More trust and more penalties can be the way forward for public administration hereafter. 

Common purpose. Shared future

Covid-19 has taken a huge toll on our economy, mental health, and governance. Our King continues to risk his own life. Huge state resources have been spent to keep us safe and fed. The treasury is most probably empty. And yet, the pandemic is far from over. We need to continue to show the same level of solidarity, sense of duty, innovations, flexibility and resilience that have brought us this far. And when this crisis ultimately recedes, we should also ask if we want to return to that old normal of rulebooks and routines, or whether we want to take into the future some of the best versions of ourselves that we manifested – and collectively regain the lost time and wealth. I believe this pandemic presents the biggest opportunity to relook at everything – from education to economy, from public service to the private sector, and from transportations to town planning.

We need to define a common purpose – a clear national vision. 

As we embark on the path to recovery and resurgence, though, we need to define a common purpose – a clear national vision. Once upon a time, it was well-defined. We were on a mission to catch up with the world. My friends and I in the BBS (Bhutan Broadcasting Service) brought the television and FM Radio to the country in 1999 and 2000 respectively. We were part of the greater nation-building effort. We formulated the Vision 2020 document in 1996. And we came very very far. Now, I don’t know what we are doing – or where we are heading. Every five years there is a new direction, or a lack of it. Now the “nation” is nowhere. It is only “buildings” on everyone’s mind and everywhere.

Again, I have lived for extended periods in two countries in my life, besides my home country, and I have visited 40. I must say that the challenges we face in Bhutan face are universal. Meaning it is the same everywhere and so it does not make Bhutan any worse as compared to any other country I know well. Infact, in many ways it is still one of the best places to be in. But, given its size and the wise leadership in our monarchs, and the rich natural endowment and beauty, we Bhutanese can do better. Everyone can have a more meaningful and fulfilling life without the need to seek greener pastures – or without the need to chain ourselves.

Therefore, on the eve of this National Day, I have one dream for our tiny great nation. And that, coming out of this crisis, it will truly realise its greatness in smallness, and celebrate its resourcefulness over resources, and restore the traditional sense of dignity from dependency.

The choice is only ours to make. And the future will either stare at us with awe or with ire.

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