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bhutan basics

Bhutan, Advanced Settings:

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Bhutan, Advanced Settings:

Bhutanese consider it impolite to say no. So they have many different forms of yes ranging from “very unlikely” to “it is certain”. If they say yes three times it’s definitely not happening. 

Bhutanese Ngultrum is the local currency. A one Nu bill is the smallest denomination; there are no coins. So when change of less than one Nu is owed, it is paid in hard candies or throat lozenges.  “Your change sir, 27 Nu and two peppermints”. 

Most Bhutanese parents take their newborns to the temple to receive auspicious names. Unfortunately, the monks don’t concern themselves much with surnames or gender. So Sonam the office girl who helped us with work permits is not Sonam, the boy who took us to Tiger Nest Monastery. Tashi Wangchuck one of my residents is no relation to the royal Wangchucks. 

My typical day starts with a short 20 minute walk to Jigme Dorji Wangchuck National Referral Hospital (JDWNRH). The pinnacle of the Bhutanese healthcare system, and where I will spend the morning in the OT (operating theater), doing hands-on clinical trading with two anesthesia residents. My afternoons are spent lecturing or various anesthesia topics. 

Until very recently Bhutan has been unable to train its own healthcare providers. Instead, doctors were trained in Sri Lanka, Burma, Thailand and Cuba. JDWNRH and the attached Khesar Gyalpo University of Medical Sciences is trying to change this. It is the only teaching institute in the country and it is crawling with students, interns, and residents.


Bhutan Basics

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Bhutan basics:

National Bird- Raven

Favorite Food- Anything with chilies 

Fridge settings-Winter, Summer, Monsoon

Toilets- squat (bring paper unless adept at the Asian bidet, water bucket and a scoop)

They drive on the left, so step off a curb and look RIGHT not left (that lesson comes quickly).

At day 23, life here is starting to feel normal. Everyone is settled into a pleasant routine. 

With only three sets of clothes each (one for wearing, one for washing, and one backup) Jen’s day usually starts with some laundry. You have to hang it out early, so it will dry before the afternoon weather rolls in (cold fingers hanging up wet clothes in 30 degree temps). Our little washer is on the balcony with the clothes line. It took some practice figuring out what the “fuzzy” cycle was about. Also, to power the washer Jen has to unplug the microwave, and run the extension cord from the electric blanket through an open kitchen window, but the chore no longer produces the profanity it did early on. 

On teaching days her and the kids bundle into a taxi and head across town to the school where they teach English Literacy and Yoga. 

Without the rush to make morning assembly, they usually choose to walk back home, picking up ingredients for the evening’s dinner on their meandering. Back at the apartment, Jen is still the teacher, and it is time for the girls to do their own schoolwork. 

On non-teaching days, the girls all head straight to the pine forest above the apartment. Schoolwork is still on their schedule, only now their classroom comes with a view. They always seem to negotiate time to build a fort or play among the prayer flags at the end of their lessons. After, it’s back down into the valley for the day’s shopping, a visit to the telecom office, or perhaps a coffee with another volunteer. 

I normally catch up with the gang around 3:00. After snacks and snuggles, we try to go out on some adventure together in town. A trip to the National Library, Tashi Dzong, the archery grounds, or just a taxi ride up to the telecom reflector tower. 

Evenings… the same dinner, bath, hair-combing, teeth-brushing routine as home. Except it is Indian cable that provides the background chatter instead of DirecTV. Occasionally a power outage triggers some flashlight games. And a game of Uno is never far from reach. 

We certainly are lacking many of the comforts of home here. We’re cold a lot, and we haven’t yet found a decent slice of bread. But there is something to the simple life here. It’s like the difference between those diabetic desserts and those made with real sugar and lard. One is richer and more satisfying.