Journeys take you out of your comfort zone. You land up in strange places where you feel you have nothing. And where all your egos, fame, preconceived notions, assumptions and accomplishments vanish albiet temporarily. You feel vulnerable. You feel naked. You don’t know how to behave; you even don’t know what to eat (I am a veg) or even how to eat (the sequence or combinations). What to talk about? In the sense what is permissible and what are the social, political or religious taboos out there? How do you dress yourself appropriately? All in all, you are thrown into a whole new world, new culture and new social reality.
Once you tide over these initial apprehensions and challenges, you start connecting to the new world around you. You start assimilating, adjusting, making new friends, creating acquaintances, learning the social norms, etc. The result: you come out a stronger person – confident, proud, knowledgeable and with more wisdom. You have accumulated more over your previous achievements. You have new notions and loads and loads of fresh experiences. And, of courses, a bigger network of friends. You rediscover yourself – a new self. It could happen whether you land in Los Angeles or Lunana. But the further you stray from your comfort zone, greater is the feeling of vulnerability and bigger will be the sense of satisfaction.
So you want to travel to distant lands, to a distant culture in future? Yes?
This is my favourite picture from all my travels. This is in Kheng Silambi (lower Monggar)
Then start now. Today. Move out of your comfort zone. Train yourself in your own surrounding first. Visit places you haven’t been and meet people you didn’t know. Like, take a weekend trip to Nub Tshona Patra – on your own. Or to a nearby place if you are not living in Thimphu or Paro or Haa. Try get yourself to spend a night in a temple, or in a hut or in a simple monk quarter. Negotiate. Interact.
That’s what I did. I traveled to every part of Bhutan in my life. I was fortunate that I also had jobs that allowed that. But, again, I chose the job. I slept in a cowshed in Dagana, ate with locals everywhere, begged for food on our way from Singye Dzong (our ration ran out), nearly died at Gangla Karchu between Laya and Lunana, risked getting buried inside Tala tunnels, nearly got gored by a yak at Pelela, suffered a food poisoning in Kengkhar.
Then slowly you can venture further. Become bolder! Get yourself transferred to a remote school, BHU, Extension Office or a Range assuming that you are either a teacher, health worker, agriculturist or a forester.
Face the hardship. Cherish it. Take pictures. Keep a journal. This is important because when you write them down, they magically turn into beautiful memories immediately. Try.
Those who are already there (remote places), start looking around with a different lens from today. Objectively. Without prejudice. Can you see this as an “opportunity”? As a training ground for yourself for a greater role in your life? You should, if you just open your eyes – if you reflect on or see the beauty around you. But if you think that you are getting punished or that Thimphu is a better place, then you are in misery.
In 2013 after I was relieved from the Palace, I packed everything I needed in a car and took off to Kanglung. Taught there for a year and half.
When I left Italy in 1995, where I could have easily landed a job (some of my Bhutanese colleagues did stay back), my Italian friends thought I had gone crazy. Now 20 years and loads of experiences later, they think little better of me. Bhutan is to Italy, what Lower Kheng is to Thimphu. Same analogy.
But don’t think of jumping straight to China when you are homing in towards 50. It won’t be just hard. It will kill you.
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Two of a Kind -My group from the masters course. They are all from Hunan province and found out that they also grow chillis like we do in Bhutan. Two of China’s 34 provinces where chilli is a vegetable. Their favourite snacks – shakam ezay
Where “East” meets “West” – What a joy to be here and rubbing shoulders with the best minds from the two “worlds”. Can’t ask more from life. I already feel wise.
Special student – Thanks to my age and some experience, I am considered a special student here. I study, deliver lectures sometimes, assess students’ assignments, I get a office. What else?
The department of communications took in only 3 students this year – me, Jay and Jojo. So our class is more a “meeting” with superb professors like Mary Roberts from New Zealand
Going back to school is fun. You get to relive your life – the so-called “golden” student life all over again. However, it becomes more difficult as you age because you have to cope up (and sometimes put up) with other realities. In this article I will lay down some key issues and skills and chills of going back to college.
Zeal For Learning
I practiced media and communications for 20 years. Now finding out what I was doing. Better late than never. Terry, who is little more than half my age, taught us how to read an academic paper.
First and foremost, you got to have a genuine zeal for learning. You have to look at yourself and ask, “Do I really enjoy learning? Or was learning just a part of an ambition that I pursued?” You need to answer
these carefully because if you have made learning a MEANS and not an END in itself, you will suffer. Learning itself should be the end goal and not something that you do expecting a better job, career, money or fame. I am not saying that this is wrong. But this is something you do when you are much younger – when you are, as the Italians say, in your primavera (spring season).
READ? You. Can. Kill. Me. Instead
We (especially Bhutanese) don’t like to read. Not even something that we sign on. It is a national disease. We would rather be killed than be asked to read, for example, Bill Clinton’s 1008-page autobiography, My Life. I am not a voracious reader but I would easily pass the national average. Post grad studies requires you to read, read and read. In communications studies we are made to read even more – and on a variety of subjects – philosophy, anthropology, sociology, psychology, mass media, religion, history, politics, economy, current affairs, public relations and many more. If reading is your nightmare, don’t even attempt the post grad dream. But if you DO read, you are already a step closer.
Shed off your ego
Ego is in our blood. I wish it showed up in our complete blood count (CBC) reports so that with another prick of a needle we can bring our ego level down just like we do with blood pressure. You should HAVE pride – but not ego. Pride gives us dignity. Ego destroys them. Now going back to school, can you rub shoulders with people half your age? Share a room in a dormitory? Get lectured by people younger than you? Seek help from anyone from a janitor to a gardener? Admit that you can’t even use your own mobile phone? Can you be, suddenly, nobody all over again in a strange place?
Simple Living High Thinking
The increased income level in Bhutan in recent years has made us more materialistic than ever. I am amazed to see how much we pile up with stuff that we actually don’t need. In 2013 after I lived in a one-bedroom apartment in Sherubtse for a semester I decided to scale down my life. I realised I could live more with less. When I got back to Thimphu I started sieving through my wardrobe. And out came things that I never wore and didn’t even remember buying them. I returned to Kanglung for two more semesters – with 3 suitcases of cloths and 2 cartoons of old shoes that I gave away. I also gave away both my silk gho to my younger brother.
Living on a 20-piece clothing. You live more with less
Going back to school means you have to detach yourself from that materialistic lifestyle. And adjust in a modest one-room flat after living in a house (in my case, in a villa). Can you do that? Do not romanticise these things? It is not fun after the second day. There is absolutely no private space. You have to line up for food instead of being served at the table. You have to do your laundry, clean your room, wash the toilet and scrub the basins. And if your roommate doesn’t care it is even worse. But living a simple life, you have more time for yourself, time to read, moments to reflect and time to pause – especially for someone like me who has been running since I graduated some 21 years back.
New place Strange Place
Being in a new place is nice but NOT if you have decided that it will be your home for the next 3 years. You are not on a paid-holiday or a romantic honeymoon but for a more serious stuff in a strange land for an extended period. You have to make yourself at home – and quickly. Of course, there are services and supports centres. But unfamiliar surroundings can be dreadful. No friends to support you. No family members to rely on.
My two ‘classmates’ whom I rarely meet
And in my case no compatriots to even seek help. I am the only Bhutanese in this mini-country (Macau is a SAR of China and administered independently like Hong Kong). What happens if you have a medical emergency? Or if your money runs out faster than you had planned? What if you lose your passport? Or if you cannot catch up with the rest of the class? And fall behind with assignments? And like in my case what if you have just two classmates whom you don’t even meet? Yes, you could be lonely. Being away from your family, friends, comfort zone could be terrible. The social, cultural, physical and mental challenges are big. If you are not up to it, you will collapse.
Now having given you all the “bad” news here, from my next blog entries, you will only have the best of being back to school, I promise. I will also share about how YOU can also do whatever you want to do when you grow older (which everybody will). A sneak preview to that: at the core of everything you do or you want to do in life is your health. Take a good care of it.
My friend, Ugyen Tshering (former Paro NC member), used to tell me, “Stay fit. Your chance of your lifetime may come when you hit sixty.” I followed his advice.
Eleven years to go for my chance at sixty.
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Following Bhutan Standard Time with assignment submissions. 🙂No earthquakes like in Bhutan but a different type of natural disaster
Visting professor Su Lee from John Hopkins speaking on mix method approach in research
In this blog entry I try to explain why I decided to go back to school at this stage in life. From an off-the-cuff bucket list to a short stint as an adjunct professor with the Royal University of Bhutan to a research trip to Kheng Silambi with a team of social scientists from University of Berkeley, some things are simply meant to be in life.
Going to school. Books, water bottle and smiles
“Where is the original for this?” Jennifer, a very beautiful young lady, whose age was impossible for me to guess, asked me as she flipped through my academic transcripts. “Well, I graduated many years back, changed couple of jobs and so I really don’t know till which office the originals followed me,” I replied with a timid smile. “Yes, it’s been a long ago,” she added smiling back, “You have mentioned that you had asked your university to send a copy?” she went again. “Yes. But my university doesn’t open until the end of the month. They are on summer break,” I told her. She went back and forth her office desk and the counter for a couple of times and then closed my file with utmost care and handed it over to me with, “So you can enrol in your course while we wait for the certification from your university,” she went. And she gave all the things that I needed to start off.”
Unlike in Bhutan where we are told to come tomorrow if anything were missing, people here work based on trust. Nothing is denied or stopped as long as you speak the truth. You keep going and you keep attending to the issues. Verbal commitments are honoured. People’s words are trusted.
I walked out of the building towards the library building, looked for an espresso coffee to wake myself up fully and got some lunch. My next appointment was the police department where twelve of us were shepherded in a university van to go over and renew our Stay Permit. After filling up two forms and after turning in our fingerprints I faced an official at her desk who went through my papers. “Oh. You made a mistake here,” she said. I got little worried. “Just overwrite it and put your initials,” she added.
Mess food. Cheap. Good. Healthy
Everyone here has been so helpful from the moment I landed in Macau. There is no doubt that things ARE as bureaucratic but here the civil servants believe, and take pride, in what they do – public service.
I could finally meet my professor towards the end of the day. He passed me a list of required courses that I had to take, an undergraduate course that I had to help teach and a course that I could apply for an exemption. I looked at the paper and my first class was just few hours away. On the very first and the same day! “Welcome to the student life,” I said to myself.
It was getting close to 7pm and I was having some trouble locating my classroom. After I gave up I sought the help of a janitor who was mopping the floor of the long corridor. “You go straight. Take the elevator to first floor,” he said with perfect Chinese-accented English that instantly reminded me of Russell Peters. I walked away forcing myself to keep a straight face.
It is 9.30 PM and not AM. Great for an owl like me.
Finally I found my class. The professor was about to start the lesson. I bowed down to him in Bhutanese style and found an empty chair in the forth row. The class began. “Welcome to this course. I am professor Tony Schirato. You can call me Tony. And this is Terry, my teaching assistant.” Tony is Australian of Italian origin and is a full-professor and head of the communications studies. I met him on my previous visit and I was looking forward to his class. As he spoke I looked around to find myself with some twenty people. The oldest one was probably half my age. I started wondering if I was in a dream. I even poked my palm with my pen to check if I had died and gone to heaven. Pain. No. It was real. I was back to a classroom. After twenty-one years. Who would have imagined that?
As I was juggling between dream and reality the class ended. Fortunately it was called off “early”. It was still almost 9pm. We just had the course outline. I walked out with few new friends that I made for the group works and presentations – Charlotte, Ocean, Angel and Hala – all from Hunan in China.
The evening air was cool. There were still many students walking up and down the campus. I look around with my face beaming – partly because of the pride of having made it here (my first degree was in engineering and had nothing to do with communications studies) and partly giggling at myself for undertaking such a stunt at this age. “Why am I here?” I asked myself. Moment of reflection. “Because you made that a bucket list when you were 40,” I replied.
The library. Books for oldies like me. Digital for others.
Yes. Some time back when I was homing in to 40, I was scared of entering into a mid-life crisis. I wrote a chapter, Life Begins at 40, for a book A Fly in a Forgotten Tea to cheer up. And to keep myself excited I also made a bucket list – of things that I wanted to achieve by the time I turned 50 (not very far away). First in the list was to meet Nelson Mandela; second – to fly a plane and third, to go back to a university for a PhD. It was not a well thought-out list but something that came out instinctively. Now I am here and as my Chinese friend asked, why do I need a PhD? Well, in the conventional sense of its usage such as furthering a career or making more money, I really don’t need one. I have already come long long way in my life and I am content with that. And I can still go further with my degree from Italy. Besides, I don’t need a PhD to add the fancy title of “Dr. “ in front of my name. I am already entitled to that having been conferred by my previous university and I never used it even once.
The idea of doing a PhD, however, gathered steam in recent years. First, my short stint in Sherubtse as an adjunct professor opened a new world to me. While inspiring our younger generation there I also discovered a fascinating life of research where I thought that it would be wonderful if I could bring together my life’s rich experiences into some scholarly works in the field of communications. I have seen, lived, built and experienced the development of modern mass media in Bhutan. From the first radio transmitter to setting up the Royal Office for Media, I have seen a lot. So, to put in purely academic format, I have all the anecdotal experiences, which many can just dream of. Therefore, I decided to pursue a third career in the academia. And if you intend to hang around in a place, you got to be the best. I have also understood something about our higher education system – and education in general – along the lines of where we are going wrong and what kind of catastrophe we are heading towards – as a society.
Getting some food. This is the general canteen.
Secondly, we really need to understand the media in Bhutan – the social media, in particular, and mass media in general. Mass media is now a reality especially that Bhutan is a democracy. Nothing will be more defining or damaging to our country than our failure to create a healthy relationship with the mass media. Ultimately we need to develop our own media model that is tailored to suit our history, culture, social circumstances and political evolution. I have called it the middle-path journalism.
The most important reason, of course, is what I always believed in, practiced and perfected over the years – the lifelong learning.
You don’t stop learning – because once you stop learning, you stop living – you stop growing.
One should learn new things, acquire new skills and absorb new knowledge every day. In a world that is changing so fast one could get stagnant or redundant very easily. When my generation finished our high school we (the so-called top students) were almost bullied by our government to go for engineering or medicines. Now I meet lots of engineers who cannot even get a decent job. My Chinese roommate says that in China no one studies after 30. I told him that in Bhutan people stop learning even much earlier.
So here I am. And coming back to my bucket list and the other two things, well, Nelson, sadly, passed away before I could meet him. I met his son through whom I sent my greetings. I was saddened but, at least, I feel, I can still fly a plane.
Life begins at 49? Possible.
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The degree from my earlier university entitles me the use of Dr., which I never used.
Back to tee shirts and blue jeans. Bring it on!
Will be getting an office soon. Yaaaay!!!!
Macau University is inside Mainland China connected by an undersea tunnel.
Journeys take you out of your comfort zone. You land up in strange places where you feel you have nothing. And where all your egos, fame, preconceived notions, assumptions and accomplishments vanish albiet temporarily. You feel vulnerable. You feel naked. You don’t know how to behave; you even don’t know what to eat (I am a veg) or even how to eat (the sequence or combinations). What to talk about? In the sense what is permissible and what are the social, political or religious taboos out there? How do you dress yourself appropriately? All in all, you are thrown into a whole new world, new culture and new social reality.
Macau University is inside Mainland China connected by an undersea tunnel. 
