A Surprise School Trip with Chunckee...

In Thimphu they told me that no plans are final in Bhutan until 5 minutes before they happen. Sometimes this can have surprisingly pleasant outcomes. 

Today I went into school in my civvies having failed to style my Gho to an acceptable standard in four tries (I seem to be getting worse). I was expecting to have to teach 6 out of 7 periods with a free first thing. At lunch time I found out there was no Period 7. There was a meeting instead. Great, I thought. Until I remembered the last meeting which ended up being two and a half hours long and I barely understood a word of it. This time I was prepared. I'd scheduled Unit Tests for 5 of my 6 classes, which meant a whole load of marking to do. I have no qualms about marking in meetings that are incomprehensible, so I quietly got on with it, putting down my pen whenever the pitter-patter of administration veered into English. Genius. I marked all of the tests.

Half way through the meeting I became aware of the fact that responsibilities were being divvied out for a day of rituals on Friday, so I put my hand up and explained quite candidly that I had absolutely no idea what was going on, but I would happily volunteer for duty: my silence was merely the dumb silence of a linguistic fool and not the silence of he who shirks responsibility. I got my job (supervising washing up and returning cutlery and bowls to the canteen for subsequent servings) and went back to my marking.

Just before the meeting took place I also found out that upon its completion we would all be going to the Principal's family home to visit his father who has been ill. The Principal has been away from school for the last 4 days taking his father to hospital. At first I was a bit grrr... simply because I had to put all the marks into a spreadsheet and figure out how well my first few weeks had gone. And sleep. Last night I felt obliged to stay up dancing and drinking in celebration of The Good Mr Thukten's child's first birthday, and I was already knackered before I went there. Anyways, I de-grrred myself and got on the bus. I owe the Principal a great deal and to be churlish about a couple of hours of me-time in such circumstances would be poor form.  

I nearly fell asleep on the way. I often do when a passenger along the oddly soporific and bumpy feeder road, but I was glad to have made the journey. Why? Well, for one thing, all the staff of the school were in attendance. We took the school bus and it was like being on a school trip. But the best thing about it was that I found myself in a typical Bhutanese home again. It's easy to forget you're in Bhutan when you live on the campus, right in the thick of the boarding school in a concrete building. To be back in a real-fire hearthed wooden building with local people was a tonic. I resolve to make these journeys more often. In fact, next Sunday, instead of going back to the river, I plan to make the 6km hike through the jungle to go and visit the village again on my own.

Can you imagine the whole school staff of a school in the UK getting on a school bus after school hours to visit the father of a colleague who has recently been ill? This is different. And, as usual, the hospitality was superb. I enjoyed a cup of tea. Then a cup of Chunckee (spelling dodgy), which is the delectable fermented rice drink that's a bit like porridge. It was compulsory for me as an honoured foreign guest to take 5 top-ups. I gladly obliged. Then a cup of filtered Chunckee, topped up a few times for good measure. Then food. 

Food... I am thankful that I am the sort of person who happily eats with his hand and doesn't baulk at a serving of pork that is basically a lump of fat. Tasty fat, but fat nevertheless. It's also genuinely delicious. I fear if the average blighty bloke made a habit of it, the obesity problems we cultivate would magnify.

By the way... eating with hands. At first it was just wrong. Now it makes perfect sense. Cutlery can be a right pain in the neck, especially with tough food. I lost count of how many times I accidentally flung a piece of beef across the table in Thimphu.

In conclusion... Surprises can be good. Especially when you don't expect them.  

Classroom next, I promise. And now I have marks to inform my thoughts... 

PS... I am sorry for those who deserve a personal response to personal messages. I am already spending too much time at the laptop, but I promise I will reply soon.

PPS... Having real problems getting photos up.