The world I know.....

Few Shots

kxt5258@gmail.com (Kinley Tshering) — Thu, 12 Nov 2009 01:10:00 +0000

Castles in the Air

kxt5258@gmail.com (Kinley Tshering) — Sun, 13 Sep 2009 04:10:00 +0000

"CASTLES IN THE AIR: Experiences and Journeys in Unknown Bhutan," an article written by John Claude White for 'The National Geographic Magazine', and published in 1914 gives an interesting account of pre-monarchic Bhutanese life. He writes in detail about Gongsa Ugyen Wangchuk and the way of life in BHutan. He also gives a detailed description, along with images, of Drugyel Dzong. Well, I am not going to get into the nitty-gritties of what is being written here; that's why I have uploaded the original article for you to read. I hope you will have a good read!

Chili: An obsession among Bhutanese

kxt5258@gmail.com (Kinley Tshering) — Tue, 08 Sep 2009 05:45:00 +0000

Imagine if all countries were asked to send one person for a gathering at a certain place and showcase a talent which will distinguish themselves from all the others. What could that lone Bhutanese possibly do? Showcase Buddhism? Lozees and Tsangmos? Zhundras and Boedras? Dramestse Nga Chham? Well, what about ema-datse and our ability to consume spicy chillies?

After all, ema-datse is considered our national dish and just the sight of chillies is enough to send shivers down the spine for those foreigners. So here is a rule of thumb – the more chillies you add to your dish, the further they [ foreigners ] will stay away from your food. I think the affinity for spiciness is more of a conditioned rather than an innate characteristic for Bhutanese. As little toddlers, the number of times you hear that you are handsome or beautiful is in proportion to the amount of chillies you eat; And toddlers can do anything just to hear that they are good looking.

Foreigners often say that chili is used as a vegetable – not a spice – in Bhutan; If only they knew chili is the taste of Bhutan. Two or three chillies and a pinch of salt is all we need to have a hefty meal. [If you need prove for this statement, flashback to your school days!] It is hard to imagine Bhutanese dish without chillies. Bhutanese eat chillies whether raw or cooked, minced or roasted, fresh or dried, but no Bhutanese dish is complete without it. It isn't just another vegetable – or fruit if you want to get real scientific – we eat everyday; it is an integral part of our culture and life.

It is hard to believe that South America is the actual homeland of chillies. Countries like Bolivia and Ecuador are home to dozens of wild chili species which are believed to be the ancestors of all the world's chillies. Scientist believe that people in South America have been using chillies for at least 8000 years based on the discovery of traces of chilies on ancient milling stones and cooking pots from Bahamas to southern Chile. The evidence gathered from the study of potsherds from archaeological sites shows that Americas began domesticating chilies more than 6000 years ago.

After the discovery of American continent and the Caribbeans, chilies spread around the world rapidly. In 1492, Christopher Columbus encountered cultivated chili plants by the Arawak Indians in Hispaniola , and mistakenly called them “peppers.” Pepper, which belongs to the Piper genus, is a spice which is native to the Indian subcontinent, while chili belongs to the Capsicum genus. The mistake is attributed to another mistake Columbus made by falsely believing that he reached India when he landed on the West Indies. He later wrote that those people “deem it very wholesome and eat nothing without it.”

Columbus took chilies to Spain and introduced them to other Europeans. Soon the Portuguese traded them to Africa from their trading post in Pernambuco, Brazil. Within 50 years, Pernambuco chilies were cultivated in India, Japan, and China. India could be the only possible place from where Bhutanese got their first chili seed. Without written records about it, it will be hard to say when chillies found their place in the Bhutanese cuisines. But I think it is safe to speculate that Bhutanese got the taste of chillies only during the late sixteenth century – at the very earliest.

Chili have many varieties and it ranges from very mild bell peppers to the Naga Jolokia, the hottest chilli. Naga jolokia is a inter-specific hybrid found in Nagaland, Assam and Manipur. The spiciness of chilies is attributed to a heat generating compound called capsaicin. Capsaicin stimulates the neural sensors by affecting the taste buds, nerve cells and nasal membranes of tongue and mouth. The sensors also detects rising temperature due to the heat generated by capsaicin and it notifies the brain. The brain then releases endorphins, and increases the heart beat and perspiration rate. The flow of adrenaline is attributed to the enticing experience while eating chilies.

According to an article titled 'Hot News about Chili Peppers', published in the Chemical and Engineering News ( Aug. 2008), capsaicin alters the way our body uses the energy produced by the hydrolysis of ATP. Normally, the energy generated is being used by SERCA proteins to move calcium ions to and from Sarcoplasmic reticulum, a special type of endoplasmic reticulum found in smooth and striated muscle fibers . The sarcoplasmic reticulum releases calcium ions during muscle contraction and absorb them during relaxation. In the presence of capsaicin, the conformation of SERCA is altered and hence most of the energy is being released as heat energy.

Scientist believe that the spiciness in chilies have a evolutionary purpose. Fruits in general needs to lure birds and animals for a successful germination. But at the same time, they will have to keep away predators. Capsaicin is produced by a gland near the stem and the rate of production increases as the fruit ripens. In an experiment conducted at the University of Washington, rodents ate the mild chilies but avoided the hot ones. Interestingly, chilies have no effect [spicy affect] on birds. However it is found that capsaicin slows the digestive system of birds; this gives time for the seeds to germinate. An in-depth study of chilies in Bolivia revealed that capsaicin also protects the fruits from fungal inflection. It is observed that the more spicier ( more capsaicin ) the chili is, the less fungal inflection it suffered. It is also observed that the more moisture the place has, the more spicier the chilies grown. This is primarily because the growth of fungus is more prevalent in moist places.

While the reasons for the popularity of chilies in Bhutan is entirely up to wild speculations, these characteristics of chili might have contributed to it in small ways. It is quite natural for people to cultivate fruits and grains which grows well and have less predators. Since the practice of shifting cultivation is common in Bhutan, and the capability of chili to keeps away predators naturally, it might have been an idle plant to cultivate [ If this little theory of mine sounds stupid, just forget it]. While some people believe that the cold weather of Bhutan might explain the romance of Bhutanese with chilies, I am left wondering why didn't the people living in the Appalachian mountains eat chilies like we do. The weather is much harsher there than in most parts of Bhutan and chilies have been introduced to them by the English as early as 1600's. Whatever the reasons might be, it is just simply stunning for Bhutanese people to not only incorporate chilies in Bhutanese dish, but also make it an integral part of it just within few hundred years. ( I think an even more interesting thing would be to know the Bhutanese dishes before the advent of chilies. )

The scale which scientist use to measure the spiciness of chilies was invented by Wilbur Scoville in 1912. A solution of chili extract is diluted with sugar water until a panel of trained tasters no longer feels the heat; the degree of dilution gives the Scoville rating. The unit for the measurement is called Scoville Heat Unit (SHU). Due to its dependence on humans to judge the saturation point, it is quite unreliable scientifically. Nowadays, high-performance liquid chromatography ( HPLC ) is being used to measure the concentration of capsaicin and other caspsaicinoids. The result is being processed with a mathematical formula to yield a result in American Spice Trade Association pungency unit. This unit can be directly converted to SHU. Bell pepper have a rating of zero SHU and Naga Jolokia measures 855,000–1,041,427 SHUs. Pure capsaicin measures about 15 to 16 million SHU.

Apart from its usage by Bhutanese as an integral part of dishes, chilies have several beneficial uses. Chilies were found to have an ability to reduce food spoilage and can also be used for medicinal purpose. Mayans were the first to use chilies in treating wounds, gastrointestinal problems and earaches. Capsaicins are also used in local anesthetics. The presence of chili in meals reduces the amount of insulin needed to lower the blood sugar level. Interestingly, chili is found to have an ability to lower obesity level; this explains why I am gaining weight now. While I am not sure about its truth, I heard from elders in villages that applying/rubbing chilies on the eyes when you have conjunctivitis will cure you from it. [ Try at your own risk. ] As is the case with anything, beneficial characteristics comes with destructive characteristics . The high consumption of chilies is the main cause of stomach ulcers and gastro-oesophageal reflux disease (GORD) . I heard that stomach ulcers is one of the highest problems associated with Bhutanese, correct me if I ma wrong.

While I will agree that people eat food to enjoy the taste - other than the obvious reason to supply energy source for our body - and not to torture themselves with capsaicins, we Bhutanese have a weird way of enjoying food. Perhaps Ruth Reichl, editor of Gourmet magazine, was completely wrong when he called Bhutan’s dishes the “the world’s worst cuisine.” As far as I am concerned, you know what's my rating, don't you?

Street Lamp

kxt5258@gmail.com (Kinley Tshering) — Fri, 04 Sep 2009 05:14:00 +0000

The icicles gave a natural decoration to the glowing street lamp. I thought it is beautiful.

I have been tagged

kxt5258@gmail.com (Kinley Tshering) — Sun, 26 Jul 2009 09:51:00 +0000

Well it looks like a tagging game is going on among bloggers. If you're tagged by a fellow blogger, you have to show your handwriting here. I am being tagged by “willow” (is his Mrs. Willow from kuzuzangpo by any chance?) I tag the following guys: kuenza, kinga, phuentsho, and cripsy.

[P.S. I will make a point not to write love letters with my handwriting.]

My Traditional Mind

kxt5258@gmail.com (Kinley Tshering) — Tue, 30 Jun 2009 08:07:00 +0000

I am born in the mountains. I grew up there too. The step slopes, torrential yet clear streams, vertical cliffs, virgin forest covers, and the refreshing atmosphere had always been my companions. The flowery blossoms of spring changes to energetic green summer, fruitful and prosperous autumns, and finally to weary and dusty winter. Even the mighty rivers oscillates between muddy brown and crystal clear; so did my emotions between summer despair and winter elation. I have been to the submit of mountains, – perhaps hills by Himalayan standards – and felt like I was living along with Gods. Even the clouds which seemed so high while living in the valleys appears to be below those submits. The thundering silence, which is broken only by the seldom barking of deers, can echo even a slightest cough. Without any human beings within reach and the lack of modern technological developments, sometimes I converse with my cattle herd but mostly with myself.

The forest provides enough green grasses for cattle and in-turn I can make a living on them. Even the wild becomes generous and offers me the gift of mushrooms and sometimes even fresh meats. If it is not generous enough, I build some traps to sustain myself. Although few old trees were uprooted and were on the verge of decay, young ones have replaced them. Perhaps that's just the way in which nature sustains itself. The wild is blessed with floras and faunas of different values and I am certain it can support me even for thousand years.

Time is of no essence in such situation, yet I have to wake up to the cries of little calves wanting to have some of their rightful milk. After stealing my own share of milk, I leave the rest to the calves. I churn the stored milk when the container is full and store some butter and cheese so that I can send them home when someone arrives with rice, salt, and other basic necessities. I let the herd roam freely during the day and act as a whip during the evening to make sure everyone is safe. I make my own food when I feel like eating and sleep if I have nothing good to do. Sometimes I practice my craft of making some wooden kitchen utensils like spatula, spoons and jumbo forks, so that I can take them as presents to my relatives when I visit home. Of course I do sing my favorite tunes, and when I get tired, I just whistle.

I stay among those mountains for five months every year. For another five months, I have another pasture in the deep valleys. For about a month, I stay in the paddy fields and feed my cattle with hays. And the rest of the time is being spend on shifting between those places.

Life in the valley is not much different from the life among the mountains. The vegetation changes from alpines to subtropical. The chilly breezes of the mountain changes to warm airs of the valley. Now the silence is broken not by the barking of the deers but by the torrential flow of rivers. Yet the nature's generosity remains the same. I can still collect ferns, canes and bamboo shoots. I can go fishing if I am really desperate. I can still spend my time by producing bamboo products like baskets, ropes and roofs. I am still days away from human civilization and technological developments, and above all I can still sing the same songs and whistle the same tunes. After five months here, I will go back to live among the high mountains and start it all over again.

Perhaps there is one thing which is constant between those places. I can feel my inner self and get to know who I really am. Logic and rational are so insignificant here. I can see the world around me and I can feel its presence. I can see, I can feel, and I can hear the tranquility. I see the entire world as a collective ONE and myself as just a drop in the vast ocean of life and universe. After all, Milarepa might be right when he said:
“In the far away place of solitude; Your mind will always encounter sadness.
Your gurus/teachers, and the three Buddhas of past, present and future; They will never leave your mind.”
[The translation is done by whatever I can dig out from my cloudy memory of the original verse. I am sure it's not be accurate. Perhaps any corrections are welcome.]

A Party Conversation

kxt5258@gmail.com (Kinley Tshering) — Wed, 17 Jun 2009 09:19:00 +0000

I lost a game of darts. The queue seemed endless and my beer glass was almost empty too. It appeared to be frosted over but in reality were merely coated with dust – or so I thought. People of all race, size and height crowded the place. Some are scantily clad while others exposed only their faces and hands. The dart game resumed right after I handed over the darts. Few people played pools and most are crowded around the counter. The bartenders had put on a show of their talents in dealing with the bottles and glasses. Game three of the NBA finals between Lakers and Magic is underway, and the cheers and jeers from the crowd even suppressed the loud background music. Slowly, I made my way to the counter.

After what seemed like an hour, finally I ordered two Monster Bombs – I really don't want to be in that line again. An elderly man was beside me. His eyes were following my glass, so I asked if he would like to have one, which he gladly accepted. After few sips, he asked me which team am I supporting. Since the team I had been supporting had lost the game long time back, I had to resort to the mono-syllabic 'none!'.

“Are you an American?” asked the old man with suspicion written over his face. A good reason to doubt my nationality since every Americans will be supporting either of the two teams.

“No, I am not,” I answered. “I am an international student from Bhutan.”

“What? Bhoo...,” he stammered while trying to pronounce.

“Bhu-tan,” I repeated myself more clearly and slowly this time. “It is in the Himalayas between India and China.” Those lines came naturally on my lips after numerous repetition to countless people. His mouth remained wide-open above the chin which is supported by his left hand. While he kept his eye ball rolling, I took my first sip.

“Ohh... I'm sorry.” said the man apologetically. “Now does that make you an Indian or a Chinese?” Perhaps my looks might have confused him.

“Jesus H. Christ! Do I have to teach him A,B,C next?” I silently asked myself. Nevertheless, his innocence was real and I already stirred his curiosity. “See,” I said finally, “I am neither an Indian nor a Chinese. Can we just agree on me being a Bhutanese?”

“Of course! I didn't realize there is a nationality named 'Bhuutoonese'. My bad!” said the old man.

I might have sounded a bit pissed off when I asked him to agree on my nationality. After all he was quite an old man and the possibility of Bhutan's name reaching him is negligible. He shared his love of different American sports – basketball, football (the rugby style one) and hockey – and how it is part and parcel of everyday American life. I thought he's right since no television channel will broadcast anything without some sports news, updates, or clips. People, both old and young, will rather chose to go for a Yankee game than to eat good and healthy dinner for a month. In fact, once I went to meet one of friend and saw his roommate watching a baseball game between Yankees (New York) and Red Sox (Boston). I just asked who was his team and I seriously was only expecting him to name either of the two teams. Instead he stood up, opened his closet, took out the outfits – pants, shirts, caps, etc – of Yankees and was speaking at the top of his voice that he is a fan of Yankees. I could see my friend (who is from Nepal) laughing and I felt like saying, “Yo Dude!! Calm down. You don't have to get too excited with my question.”

One conversation led to another and soon we started talking about the presidential elections. The election of Barack Obama to the white house has been a history in itself. I saw young Americans of all races and gender rejoicing during the presidential inauguration in January – in fact our professor even paused his lecture and watched Obama speak to the nation. The old man I was having the conversation is a black man; Although I'm not sure whether he is an African American or a Caribbean. The election of a first black president to the highest position in the history of United States signifies the final triumph of the civil rights movement which they fought so hard.

“The election of Obama to the White House surely is a history in itself.”I said Hesitantly. “What does it mean to you? The election of the first Black..... I mean African American-”

The old man brightened suddenly. I knew I made a blunder by using a politically incorrect name calling noun.

“Black and African American. Funny you should correct them. See,” he began, “an interesting thing about America is the political correctness. When I was very young, – about sex or seven – they would call us 'Blacks'. When I was your age in the 1960's and in college, they called us 'Negroes'. After the civil rights movement in the south, we are known as 'Afrikans', and it finally changed to 'African Americans'. We're the same people, common!; our names doesn't have to be changed. But, it does and everything is about political correctness.”

I nodded my head in agreement. I felt stupid of myself for trying to change the word; It would have been normal if I just continued using 'Black' and didn't make any attempt to make the word sound more correct. “Well!I mean, how did you feel for having elected an African American as president?” I said finally.

“It's very interesting you would ask me that.” he said. “You know, people say the 'first black president' or 'first black player'. The fact is no one in America has a pure racial heritage now. Obama's mother was a white woman. Tiger Wood is more like you than he is like me. He has more ancestors from Asia than from Africa. I look like a pure black man, right?” he asked.

“Yea, sure.” I replied.

“My maternal grand mother is Chinese,” he continued, “my sister looks like a white. Everyone has mixed race nowadays. But sure the election of Obama to office is a great achievement of 1960's.”

Suddenly I realized that my glass was empty and I want to visit the restroom too. As a concluding question, I asked how he sees America in future.

“People say that America is a 'melting pot' and I really think it should be one. Racial, cultural, religious, political tolerance should be valued. It should become a place where people like you and me can discuss freely like we're doing now. I'm sure it will be one ultimately.” He said.

By then, my bladder could hold hardly any longer and I took leave of him.

Misquotation or Misinterpretation

kxt5258@gmail.com (Kinley Tshering) — Mon, 18 May 2009 18:34:00 +0000

Which will you consider more dangerous, misquotation or misinterpretation? I had been reading few articles from Bhutanese news sites, and frequently the reporters are being accused of misquoting the interviewee. While the officials insist on having incorrectly quoted, reporters have their own justification and proofs of having quoted correctly – often with equal passion. Although this practice could lead to some unwelcome consequences, it is not really an irresolvable issue. If needs be, we can simply resolve it by bringing both parties to the same table. Perhaps the actual truth might be somewhere in-between the two extremes.

On the other hand, the problem of misinterpretation is in being subjective. While a phrase might be accurate word-to-word and letter-to-letter, the implied meaning would differ depending on the context, culture, and time it is being used. There are thousands of phrases which are being misinterpreted and have now become just another cliche. “Religion is the opium of the people” by Karl Marx is one of those phrases which is often quoted and often misinterpreted.

Nowadays the quote is being used to mean that religion makes people lunatic or delusional. It is not surprising since opium is being used for producing a drug-induced delusion for the person using it nowadays. The misinterpretation can also be attributed to the use of similar phrases like “religion is poison” by Chairman Mao during Chinese Revolution. The phrase appears in an introduction of a book – Critique of Hegel’s Philosophy of Right – where Marx critiques Hegel’s Philosophy of Right paragraph by paragraph. Marx writes:

“Religious suffering is, at one and the same time, the expression of real suffering and a protest against real suffering. Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world, and the soul of soulless conditions. It is the opium of the people”

In the above quotation, Marx not only says that religion is the opium of the people, but also sigh of oppressed, heart of heartless, and soul of soulless. It is very important to take into account that opium is used as medicine – painkiller – during his time. Therefore he clearly states that religion provides a false solace – it does not make people delusional in any ways. He says that the purpose of religion is to create an illusory fantasy. Even if the living conditions and the economic situation prevents the poor people from finding happiness in this life, religion instructs them to take it positively since they will be rewarded in the next life. Therefore, religion provides solace for now and gives at best a questionable hope for future. Therefore Marx considers religion as an illusory happiness. He calls for the abolition of the illusory happiness since that is the ONLY way to demand the real happiness. Anyone would prefer the real happiness to illusory one, wouldn’t you?

In the recent incident of the murder of a woman by few Christian-converts, I have seen few people using Marx’s phrase to mean people become delusional or crazy because of religion. This certainly isn’t how Marx saw the world’s religion.

By the way, if you would like to read the text by Hegel and Marx, the links are provided below:

Don't Fall Off the Mountain

kxt5258@gmail.com (Kinley Tshering) — Mon, 04 May 2009 03:46:00 +0000

"Don't Fall Off the Mountain", an autobiography book written by Shirley MacLaine narrates her childhood days in the suburbs of Virgina, adult days in New York and Hollywood, and the adventurous journeys – in search of her true identity – from the deserts of Africa to the high mountains peaks of the Himalayas. She writes about her involvement in the civil rights movement in the United States to her escape from the political revolution of the small Himalayan Kingdom.

She talks about the intolerance of the white Americans towards the African-Americans during the segregation and the Jim Crow's era. She takes a tour to Mississippi to “see their world through their eyes”. It was a era when every white, no matter what his work was, was a member of the KKK. She writes about the first hand accounts of the brutal acts of the KKK.

She describes about a journey she took along a klong in Thailand. Suddenly, an infant toppled head first into the klong and the parents don't make any attempts to save the infant but just watch their child drown. She rightly says that Buddhist believe that death is part of the cycle of life. But, I am not sure if she is right when she claims that many Buddhist will not interfere (will not try to save the drowning child) because we believe it is preordained fate. I am not sure if it is just a made up story or it actually happens in Theravada Buddhist culture – I'll have to do some more reading or will have to talk to some one. I find it hard to believe.

In remote Kenya, there is a small warrior tribe called Masai. Refusing to adapt to the white man's world, they prefer death to civilization. They rejects any form of development and feels that they're the elites among men. When a child enters adulthood, he will have to kill a lion single-handedly or die trying. It signifies their manhood and the skin of the lion they killed were hung from the door as a prize. Wives have value. They were purchased for a specific number of cattle, the price being fixed by the woman's father. Shirley describes about her stay with those tribes and gives a detailed account of their life-style and rituals. She becomes the Masai blood sister after a new born baby girl gets a name after her. Finally when she says good-bye, the chief asks her to tell her husband that he is going to buy her for five hundred cattle. “When he comes, we do business”, and with those words, they depart.

Then, she travels though India and describes the landscapes, people, and culture. She stops wearing pants and shirts and wears sari instead. After few months of stay at Kolkata, she finds herself a yoga instructor to instruct her. He says that the ultimate aim of yoga is “the liberation of the spirit, the union of the soul with the universe.” He said that get the inner truth continually and with startling clarity when we are on the mountain sanctuary. Thus, shes introduced to Bhutan.

One of her friend knew the Prime Minister of Bhutan, Dasho Lhuendrup Dorji, and he makes an appointment. She expects an old man sitting in lotus position, wrapped in saffron robes, and mediating. Suddenly a tall, slim and young Mongol of about twenty eight, dressed in black mohair trousers and red sports jacket walked towards her and introduced himself as “Lenny”. Lenny talks about his stay in the States while he was a student. Their conversation touched on New York City, Grand Central Station, Wall Street, LA Dodgers, etc. He talks about Bhutan and says it is still in the bronze age – only one telephone switchboard at the border, no electricity, and no wheels (except for the Indian industrial engineers who were constructing the highway from Phuentsholing to Paro). Anyways, she gets a permission to stay in Bhutan for a month.

Dasho Dorji was on his way to Switzerland – where His Majesty the third King was admitted to a hospital – to pay respect. So, he instructs a loyal Indian guide to go with Shirley to Paro. They travel along the Phuenstholing-Paro highway – which was under-construction. At Paro, she mets Dasho Nishioka and his wife. She visits few places like Taktshang and meets few spiritual masters.

Suddenly, the political environment in Bhutan gets hostile and all those people who are close to acting Prime Minister were arrested and acting Prime Minister was exiled. Dasho Lhendrup's non-Bhutanese personal assistant (Mary) gets a mail saying that she should leave the country from a good friend of her. They make their journey to Phuentsholing and tries to cross the border. The guards catches them and takes them to Phuentsholing guest house. The army offered exit permit for Mary and Shirley but denied permit to Bhalla (the Indian guide). They tries to escape by hiding Bhalla under the luggage but gets caught at the second gate. Finally the queen grants an exit permit to Bhalla too and they leave the country to Kolkata. Mary narrates how the former Prime Minister Jigme P. Dorji was assassinated. She says that they were playing a card game. PM Jigme just won a game with a royal flush and was laughing when a bullet shot from the kitchen door of the guest house at Phuentsholing hit him. He died after some time after profuse bleeding. His last words, as per Mary who was holding him, was “Serve the king well.” The criminal was caught but he never spoke a word after getting caught. Thus they couldn't get into any details about the assassination.

She doesn't really go into the details of that incident, although I would have loved to read it. The book is written quite well and I would recommend to anyone who would want to read History, although she only offers one sided point-of-view. I would also love to hear from anyone who knows about those incident or would appreciate anyone who can direct me towards few materials about it.

Brilliance or Brute Force

kxt5258@gmail.com (Kinley Tshering) — Sun, 26 Apr 2009 07:11:00 +0000

Is brute force more brilliant than brilliance itself? This question could sound quite stupid if not considered seriously. Garry Kasparov, regarded as the greatest chess player in the world played a match – six games – against an IBM designed chess computer (Deep Blue) which mainly relied on brute force computing power, and the Deep Blue won the controversial match.

Garry Kasparov was born in Baku, Azerbaijan (U.S.S.R then) and won the world chess championship when he was 22 – thus becoming the youngest champion. He held the world champion title from 1985 till 2000. He is best known for his five matches against Anatoly Karpov, another Russian grandmaster in chess. He played with Deep Thought – a chess computer – in 1989 and won the match. In 1996, he played another match with a chess computer (Deep Blue)and won. In 2003, he played a match each with Deep Junior – An Israeli designed chess computer which won the computer chess championship - and X3D Fritz. Both the matches ended in a draw.

The most interesting match took place in 1997 between Kasparov and “Deeper Blue” (which is and upgraded version of Deep Blue), which was a rematch of 1996. Kasparov won the first game easily by tricking the computer into his way. He lost the second game in which the computer made a move which completely shocked the grandmaster. He was so confident that there was a human factor in play and said it's the “hand of God” in reference to the statement made by Maradona when he scored the world cup winning goal with his hand. He never recovered from the shock and finally lost the sixth and the final game after two draws.

Kasparov asked for the log files of the second game right after the match (in an attempt to prevent the IBM from tampering the file), but his request was rejected. He wasn't given access to see the computer or the room n which the computer was located. However, IBM published the log files on their website later. Kasparov requested the IBM team for a rematch, but the team rejected the request for rematch too. After the game, the “Deep Blue” was dismantled and one part was donated to Smithsonian Institute in Washington D.C. Kasparov viewed the rejection of log files and rematch, and dismantling of the computer as covering up evidence of tampering during the games.

The documentary film “Game Over: Kasparov and the Machine” was released in 2003 which documents the events during the match. The film ALMOST (I feel that the film takes a little biased stance towards Kasparov by comparing the computer to “the turks”, which was a hoax involving a chess playing machine built in 18th century, but secretly operated by human beings) takes a non-inclined position by presenting the views of both Kasparov and the developers of Deep Blue. The documentary is provided below and you can make your own stance on it. Happy watching if you can load it :)

By the way, look at the small teddy rabbit(?) which I won from claw vending machine. This is the first time I got something from that damn machine after playing several times over the years. I wish to close the chapter between me and those gambling machines for good now.

A Perfect Excuse

kxt5258@gmail.com (Kinley Tshering) — Mon, 13 Apr 2009 03:07:00 +0000

From my limited experience in this world, I can classify people into three categories: who works, who don't work, and who talks. It is usually the first group of people who succeeds in life and the third group of people who comes up with the best excuses. While hard work is of utmost importance, knowing when, where and how to work is even more important. You can go on digging the earth to reach moon, – it could be considered hard work – yet the chance of you reaching there is zero. Perhaps the myth of cicadas – where the cicadas (humans that time) forgets to eat and eventually dies in trying to lull humans to laziness by the charm of their songs. I have drawn my own conclusion that hard work without purpose and prudence will not take you anywhere (at least a better place).

I am very studious, non-smoker (I smoked for about four months and had since then forswear for good ), non-alcoholic (well, during the academic session), unpunctual (I would always get punishment for being late for waking up, studies, food, prayers, classes, etc), non-athletic (I have just one medal to prove that I did take part in physical activities. I won a third prize – a bronze medal – in a frog jumping race when I was in sixth grade.) and an introvert. Actually when I say nonathletic, I mean to say I am not good at sports. I used to play with equally unworthy opponents and sometimes we used to skip lunch and dinner to continue our game. Somehow people around saw me only when I was playing and not otherwise. After all, I used to give my full concentration in class and did almost all my home works on time. I didn't waste my time during study hours unlike others. Eventually I was regarded as a person who can score quite well in exams WITHOUT studying.

Indeed few of my teachers didn't even believe that I wrote my exams honestly. They were confident that I copied except they could not catch me red handed. Few friends gave me names which are grossly exaggerated. They never gave me the credit for my hard work which I earnestly deserved. Instead they resorted to believe that I was doing well because I had BRAIN. It's a very smart excuse to hide their inability to endure hard work and a very cheap shot to discredit my ability to work hard. It is a smart excuse because no one can blame the other person for having no brain, but they surely can blame them for not working a little harder and smarter. Perhaps it may not be too late to think about what Margaret Thatcher once said, “I do not know anyone who has gotten to the top without hard work. That is the recipe. It will not always get you to the top, but it will get you pretty near.”

Nauryz : Kazakh New Year

kxt5258@gmail.com (Kinley Tshering) — Tue, 24 Mar 2009 19:05:00 +0000

Nauryz is a non-religious Kazakh folk celebration of the spring – I am wondering if it is the same festival as that of cherry blossom festival in japan. Nauryz is mostly celebrated in the west and central Asian countries of Kazakhstan, Afghanistan, Azerbaijan, Iran and Turkey. It is celebrated on spring equinox. The central theme of Nauryz is renewal, cleansing, the coming of spring, and the birth of new life. During the course of history Nauryz has become a symbolic New Year in many cultures. Nauryz is one of the most ancient, respected and favorite holidays in that part of the world.

My university has about 70 Kazakh students and I got invited by few of my Kazakh friends to celebrate their celebration. It started at 5:00 pm but I could reach the spot only at 6:00 pm since we got lost. By the time we reached there, few girls – wearing their traditional attire – were dancing to a traditional music tune. A Turkish student performed Kanun – it looks like our Yangchen – and the small crowd added their own clapping sound to the music. Two Kazakh students performed Dombra (it looked just like a Dramgyen except it has only two strings and no animal head decorations) quite skillfully. They performed few traditional dances from different countries and few of them sang some songs – which I think might be a song to which people will dance when they are drunk. They showed us a short documentary about Kazakhstan. It looks great in that documentary but I also know they showed only the good things in that documentary. As the show is getting closer to end, few girls dressed in traditional attire threw sweets and chocolates in the crowd (I had fun jumping and catching those chocolates).

After the show is over, they served us their traditional food. I forgot their names but they are basically fried rice and breads. I interacted with few performers and friends – including strangers – and talked about their performance and their significance. A girl showed me a landscape which has a beautiful legend associated with it; she was proud hat her home is near that place. Well basically, there is a lake near a mountain and rock in a lake. She said that the rock looks like a young girl with her hair cascading in the wind from one side of the lake and looks like a old woman from the other side. It is believed that once a girl was wooed by men all over the country. As a test, her father made her stand on that mountain with a scarf and all her wooers were made to shot arrow at the scarf. Anyone who can pierce the scarf will get her as price. Unfortunately, the person who pierced the scarf happened to be the son of her father's arch rival. So, she jumped from the mountain into the lake and turned into a stone. Ohhhh.... what a tragedy!

They had a huge wallpaper where people were racing on horseback. I thought it is just a horse race. It is an ancient Kazakh game called kyz kuu (chase the girl). Basically, a guy and a girl will have to ride a horse and run towards a finish line. The guy can start galloping only after the girl passed his position. If the guy can overtake the girl, he can reach out to her and STEAL a kiss. If he could not overtake the girl, they will reverse the direction and the girl will chase the guy. If the girl can overtake the the guy before he reaches his starting position, he will get whipped with her whip. Seriously! what can be more fun than that? I am seriously considering to introduce this game in Bhutan .....

"International" Food Festival

kxt5258@gmail.com (Kinley Tshering) — Sat, 14 Mar 2009 21:50:00 +0000

We had been planning to bring together as many people as possible from different countries and have a feast. Today is the day, yay! We will have fifteen people – all from different countries (well, consider Hong Kong and China as separate. I hope the Chinese government is not reading this LOL ) – meeting in our apartment today. Well! Basically the idea is that we will all cook some food which is native to our country and everyone will get to try different food.

Everyone had been busy since morning – not me though. I woke up at 12:00 noon (Common, it's Saturday) and went to Wegmans to get my recipes. All my friends started working on their respective food from 2:00 PM. Some started chopping garlic without peeling the dry skin, some started burning eggs while trying to make omelet, and some started calling their mother back home.

One of my friend brought the computer in the kitchen and loaded the page which has detailed instruction on how to prepare his food. Well, he was even following the amount of water, amount of salt, etc. But it is good to see him trying really hard.

After I finished making emadatsi, I hanged around a while to see how they are making. I saw one of my friend standing near the pot which is on stove with a spoon full of his food and his mouth wide open just above the pot which contains the actual food. He told me that he is tasting his food. He put the spoon in his mouth and then put back the remaining food in his spoon into the pot and started stirring with the same spoon without even washing it. I could not help but tell him that he just got fired if he is my chef.

I started cutting my chillies and onion at 4:30 PM and I am done now. It is 5:00 PM now, so I am going to take a nap. I asked them to wake me up once they are done anyways.

Oh! talking of shopping, something funny happened to us. We parked our car near a small car at Wegmans. While we were about to leave, the owner of that car – an old lady – opened her car's door to get in. Sensing that there is only a small space between the two cars, my friend politely asked the lady if we should move our car. “No, thank you. I am not that fat”, was the lady's reply. She slammed her car's door and drove away. “What the hell! I have no intention of saying that she is fat” was all my friend could say after the lady drove away. Well! After all, it is not your intention that matters, it is how the other person takes it that does. So the lesson: don't be a gentleman.

Trip to Gettysburg

kxt5258@gmail.com (Kinley Tshering) — Sun, 01 Mar 2009 20:34:00 +0000

"A government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth." Sounds familiar? Those immortal words of Lincoln from his Gettysburg speech defines the fundamental meaning of democracy. I memorized that speech for an English eloquation competition, I was in eighth grade then. I also read few articles about the battle of Gettysburg and always wanted to visited it one day. So when we planned for a trip to Philadelphia and Columbus, I took the chance and included Gettysburg in the itinerary.

Initially, we planned to stay in Gettysburg for only few hours. Unfortunately or fortunately, Gettysburg's weather happened to be like that of Gedhu. When we reached Gettysburg at around 3:00 pm, we could not see the road clearly due to heavy fog cover. Hence we departed to Philadelphia that day and planned to come back for an entire day.

We went to the guest information area and got maps and other necessary items. We went in to watch a short movie about the battle and its history followed by a cyclorama about the battle. Cyclorama is basically a pictorial representation of an event on the inner wall of a cylindrical room, viewed by spectators occupying the center position. The sound and light effects give an illusion of movement and reality. It is one of the most amazing work of art I have ever seen.

[A scene from the cyclorama. source: NPS]

We went to the souvenirs shop and bought few presents for our friends back home. The entire park is so huge (actually the entire battlefield was converted to park now) that you have to use car to drive. You can still feel the history there: with cannons, tombs, and statues lying everywhere. First we went to the national cemetery where the Union soldiers were buried, followed by eternal peace memorial and few other sites of importance.

[The open field where Pickett's charge took place.]
Pickett's charge is an infantry assault ordered by confederate general Robert Lee against the Union position on Cemetery ridge. About 12,000 infantry men marched through the open fields towards the cemetery ridge which is occupied by union artillery. About 50% of the men were either killed or wounded and confederates lost the charge, and battle too.

I always thought that Lincoln gave the speech before the war began like one of those scenes in a movie. Actually, Lincoln gave the speech only an year after the battle when the federal government recognized the battlefield as a national park. Our guides told us that it is more fun to visit Gettysburg during the summer. He said that the local people still imitate the battle and there will be so many celebrations and youth camping. All in all, not bad at all. I enjoyed it and I liked the place.

[A memorial statue for the confederate soldiers who lost their life.]

[View of Gettysburg from Devils Den. It is small hill and the open field you see at a distance is the main battlefield.]

The bloody wheatfield. A series of confusing attacks and counterattacks within two hours left the place with thousands of dead bodies.

Pema Tshewang Tashi

kxt5258@gmail.com (Kinley Tshering) — Tue, 17 Feb 2009 16:12:00 +0000

On “Quality of Education”

kxt5258@gmail.com (Kinley Tshering) — Thu, 29 Jan 2009 20:32:00 +0000

“Quality of Education” has been the topic of intense debate among educationalists, policy makers, teachers and general public for years now. The debate occurred in the scared halls of national assembly, educational conferences, online forums and day-to-day gossips. The general consensus is that the “quality of education” has deteriorated in recent years. Fortunately for policy makers and unfortunately for teachers, every little blames is put on teachers.

Firstly, we will have to agree on what “quality of education” really means. Is it how much materials have the students memorized? Is it how well the students can read, write and speak English or Dzongkha? Or is it about what percentage of students fails or passes the board examinations? Perhaps could it be the variety of talents that the student possesses? Or is it about how well prepared the students are in the job market? May be it’s a combination of all of the above qualities. We will have to come to a common consensus on what is “quality of education” to debate about it. If we consider above mentioned entities as “quality of education”, it is illogical to say that the “quality of education” has declined in recent years. While some of them might have been worse; some of those qualities are better off now than they were years ago.

The main objective of education is to question and search for the higher truth. Hence “quality of education” is how well prepared the students (youths) are to tackle the present and future challenges. The youths of today are faced with a completely different reality than our parents did years ago. Competition has drastically increased, expectations are high and demands for excellence in specialized fields are soaring ever more. On the other hand, apathetic parents and elders are still comparing and contrasting what they could do years ago to what the youths can do today in total disregard to the environment. Therefore it is totally unfair to claim that the “quality of education” that today’s youth are receiving is not as good as the ones received during “good” old times.

Our education system is still based on “Traditional Learning System” which basically does not allow creativity and innovation in the curriculum. Discussions and debates on topics of academic interest are nonexistent. Teachers read exactly what is written in the textbook and declares “syllabus covered” once they finish reading the book. Even creative writings like poems are taught only for the sake of literal meaning. Most of the examinations are “recall memory” test where the students are asked dates and names rather than the actual context of events and practical applications of theories. This teaching and learning system can never prepare our youths to face the challenges in an information age. These are signs of failing curriculum which in turn is the result of failed policies. In fact, our elder generations should have foreseen those changing trends and adapted our system to the changing world if they really did receive better education. Unfortunately, prudence happened to be a meager resource.

Some people argue that the quality of education cannot be any better or worse than quality of teacher. This argument underestimates the importance of “system” itself. If the system doesn’t facilitate in the creation of an academic environment where creativity and innovation is encouraged, good teachers will not serve any purpose. Students will have to be taught about the importance of independent thinking, so that the present trend of borrowing each others' notebook is seen as something unworthy. Teachers should try to act as a catalyst for students to participate in active discussions and exchange their budding ideas rather than being a source of idea. The distribution of teachers should be uniform. At present, some schools have three different teacher to teach some subjects (like a teacher each for organic, inorganic and physical chemistry) while some schools have no teachers at all. This is morally unfair since all students have to take the same exams. The development of infrastructures like libraries will have to be given utmost importance. At the very least, we need books and journals (if not Internet facilities) so that our young minds will be able to explore for ideas.

Just creating an interactive curriculum in classrooms will not have much impact on the society. What use will the knowledge gained in classrooms have if it can’t help the people who are in need? In order to make the new ideas practical, we will have to create a space where practical applications of theories can be made possible. Perhaps it will not be hard to come up with an annual “Innovation” festival where youths from different parts of country can build connections and collaborations. This festival can serve as a space where they can show their artistic and scientific talents. Let it serve as a space where they can show the fruits of their hard work. Let it serve as an environment where talents lying on the extremes of spectrum can be “fusioned”.

With the advancement of technology, our youths will face tougher competition and challenges. They will not be able to march along with the world without an environment in which creativity and innovation is encouraged. If we create a learning environment of dynamism and competition, our youths will be able to face the hard challenges of present and future without difficulty and our elders will not have to worry about the deteriorating “quality of education.”

[ Note: An edited version of this article has been published by BhutanObserver - a private news paper based in Thimphu, Bhutan. Click here read it.]

Me and My Root

kxt5258@gmail.com (Kinley Tshering) — Tue, 27 Jan 2009 06:51:00 +0000

One will have to know his own root in order to appreciate the things around him and to remind him of the duties he has to fulfill. A person doesn’t have to speak in English to other fellow Bhutanese just because they’re in America. A person doesn’t have to look down on someone who is poorer just because they have more wealth. A person doesn’t have to spread the idea of Bhutan being one of the happiest nations when we have countless people living under the cruel hands of poverty. No! Absolutely not!

My father is very strict in disciplines and work ethics especially when it comes to hard work. He is the worst monster I know when he loses his temper. He would throw everything that is in his reach. If he gets angry while eating, he would throw the food too. It is kind of funny when I try to picture him throwing his plate full of rice out of window and capsize the rice cooker and curry pan. He would go on like a drunken elephant on rampage. I used to hate him to hell during those times.

He is a very ambitious and hard working man. Anyone who knows him will agree on at least two of his characters: hardworking and alcoholic. Without his hard work and determination, they would not have been what they are today and I would not have been what I am today either. He is the second eldest siblings in his family and spent most of his early life with his uncle who was a Thrimpon (Judge) then. Well actually it’s more of a servant rather than taking care of nephew or whatever. I think he learned his discipline from them. Their family has seven siblings and surely they had a tough life. He is also supposed to be one of the strongest man in the village (according to him) and whenever there is a gathering, he and few of his peers will be seen boasting about how they carried heavy loads, how they managed to wrestle down their opponents, etc. After coming to certain age (may be 20's), he got aside from his family house and started making his own living.

My mother has her own hard life and she hails from a disputed family. My maternal grandfather passed away while my mother was still very young. As a result, my grandfather's brother took control of the property. Hence my mother's family moved out with a small plot of land which is supposed to feed five children (two males and three females). After few years, their mother passed away too. One of their brothers died while he was a student in Zhemgang: this is the mean reason why my mother will not let me stay in Zhemgang. I can well imagine how they might have felt when the other brother passed away in Gelephu in 1985/6. This could be the main reason why I am much more close to my maternal side than my paternal side. I and in fact my siblings and my first cousins consider each other's mother like our own. If I have anything to thank, it would be my parents and my two maternal aunts. My mother is the youngest among her siblings and was living with her older sisters when she met my father.

So, when my parents got married, they have no property at all; I mean they have nothing. They basically lived by cultivating in other's land and then sharing the yield in equal shares. After few years, my father got a plot of wetland from his parents and since then, that has been the source of their livelihood. It was in late 1980's when the government gave loans to farmers to buy jersey cows that my father unilaterally took the decision of getting Nu.10, 000 as loan. During that time, that amount is sufficient to buy a jersey and a brown Swiss cow with a calf each. Of course that small amount was unimaginable for my mother that time and she even scolded my father. But he sat firm on it and he still takes pride in his decision today. Within a year or so, they exchanged the jersey cow with a plot of land on which they settled. It happened to be a good transaction whereby the land has been very beneficial to my parents and that cow still has her offspring which continues to benefit the owner.

They registered a forest land which will serve as the pasture land for the cattle. Now arguably, it is one of the best pasture lands in my village. It is surrounded by cliffs and deep gorges which has river flowing inside it, so they don't need to fence it. The land is huge enough to feed about six cows for half a year without any difficulty. It is near the national highway, so they can sell the products quite easily. Within two or three years, the loan was repaid and now they have a good source of income too. My father resigned from the community milk producers association after a dispute over how to handle the profits. The executive board decided to put the profit into banks and use them for their children. My father wanted the profits to be shared equally among the members so they can improve on what they already have. His main argument was that we don't know what his children would be: they could be better off than him, worse than him or equal to him. He was the only one who thought differently and hence he unregistered himself. Few years later, some of the committee members embezzled the funds and the association didn't really work well. Still they lived hand-to-mouth and I can still remember that we used to buy white rice from Food Corporation of Bhutan (FCB) because the red rice stock would run out during summer.

In early 1990's, my parents built a two story house which took them about 4-5 months. I remember that most of the time, there used to be only my father and the carpenter at work. In late nineties, they converted the land from shogshing (where people are only allowed to collect tree leaves) to zhachoe (where the owner can build house, make gardens for livelihood, etc) after seeking kidu (help) from His Majesty. Even with few plots of land, house and cattle, it has been a very hard life when it comes to sending us to school. I can still remember that my father used to get our school uniforms on credit. I remember how my mother used to stitch our clothes and shoes so that we can wear them. I don't remember wearing underwear while I was young because my parents can't afford it. I remember how I used to use my gho pocket for carrying my books, plates, and pencils because they can't afford to buy fancy bags. I used a pair of shoes and a pant for one whole year without change. The highest amount of money I owned was Nu. 4000 when I went to Gyelpozhing for my 11th and 12th grade while my peers were carrying well... I don't know... Nu. 10,000 or even more. I took home-made blankets to my boarding school because imported blankets were a dream for me then. This is the life I lived but I am well aware that there are still people back home who did not get what I got.

There is one guy from my own village who told his parents that I am the POOREST student in my school. And, in turn his parents were talking about it during the annual rituals in front of other people. My mother overheard it and she told me about it one day. She was asking if it's real. Well! What am I to say? I got the best my parents can afford. I really don't know if I was the POOREST student because I never judged a student by his wealth but by his smartness in studies. I am extremely sorry but I was much better than him in studies at least. After all, you are not defined by your parent's wealth and fame but by what you achieve.

No matter what I do, if I know my family root and history, it will serve as a reminder that I am not born into a world of abundance. I will not complain for not being offered a five star hotel if I know that my parents and grandparents don't even know what it means. I will learn to appreciate the work done by them in order to make me what I am today. I will not be carried away by the beautiful concept of “Gross National Happiness” if I know that the people living in the land I call home are living a life which is “very hard” to say the least.

Hoch Scholarship Program and Bhutan

kxt5258@gmail.com (Kinley Tshering) — Mon, 12 Jan 2009 20:04:00 +0000

“The Hoch Scholarship program is a small private scholarship program which provides funding for up to two Bhutanese grantees, currently in the field of electrical and hydroelectric engineering at the undergraduate level, for a maximum of four years. Grantees are selected by the Royal Civil Service Commission of Bhutan. Grants are full grants and cover tuition, room and board, insurance, airfare and grantax services. It is funded by an individual philanthropist and his family”, says the Information on Institute of International Education (IIE)’s website. That is the only information on this scholarship program which educated a handful of Bhutanese students in the United States in engineering fields. I am sure all those students are contributing towards the nation building process.

I have been lucky enough to receive this same scholarship and study here in the United States. I am sure that the extraordinary experiences (be it in academic or non-academic fields) I gain here will help me in contributing back to the nation which made me the person I am today. I am from a poor family and I neither have aunts or uncles who have the power and wealth to make a difference in me. If I am to thank anyone, I will have to thank my parents for bringing me up and enrolling me in school even when they lived hand to mouth, and the Royal government for the enlightened initiative of free education policy. Thank you.

I think I have the responsibility to know what Hoch Scholarship is. After all, it’s this scholarship which brought me to a land which I can only watch on Television; and attend a university which I can only dream of attending.

In order to understand Hoch Scholarship, we need to understand the Helvetas - Bhutan relationship. In 1948, Her Majesty the Queen Mother, Ashi Kesang Choden Wangchuk and Ms. Lisina Hoch attended the same school in London (House of Citizenship). Ms. Lisina was the daughter of a Swiss industrialist and trader, Mr. Fritz Von Schulthess. In 1949, Mr. Schulthess’ family visited the family of Ashi Kesang at Bhutan House in Kalimpong. After Ashi Kesang married His Late Majesty Jigme Dorji Wangchuk, the royal family of Bhutan and Mr. Schulthess’ family developed close ties. It is from this relationship that Helvetas had its existence in Bhutan.

[The photo to the left is Ms. Lisina Hoch. Photo Courtesy of Helvetas - Bhutan. ]

The Hoch Scholarship is a private scholarship funded by Mr. Late Frank Hoch and Ms. Lisina Hoch’s family. Ms. Lisina is also the Vice President of Bhutan Foundation with its headquarter in Washington, DC. Since the initial intent of the scholarship is to train Bhutanese engineers in electrical or hydro-electrical engineering, I guess I can say it started after government took initiative to develop power projects (most probably Chukha) in the 1970’s. I have no hard evidence to back my unofficial claim. Before I came here I did met a alumni of Hoch Scholarship who is in his mid/late forties, so I think it is quite safe to say it started in 1970’s or before (assuming he is not the first person to get the scholarship). I do strongly believe that RCSC will have the record and will be in a good position to say about it. I will try to find it later!

Into the Thunder Dragon

kxt5258@gmail.com (Kinley Tshering) — Sun, 04 Jan 2009 22:59:00 +0000

I finished my assignments and submitted them. I had nothing to do, so i surfed the web for some documentaries on Bhutan. I found a documentary which is about a Canadian and an American unicyclist traveling in Bhutan using unicycle. They travelled from Paro to Ura, Bumthang in a bus and trekked the Rudungla Pass between Ura and Trashi Yangtse. On their journey, they gave some fascinating geographical, historical and cultural information in first person. This is one of the best documentary I have seen on Bhutan. It's simple, deep and very informative and educative. Even thought I am Bhutanese, I have never seen those passes myself, It's a time well spent. For those people who are interested in watching the documentary, I have embedded the video below:

<a href="http://www.joost.com/33l83kc/t/Into-the-Thunder-Dragon">Into the Thunder Dragon</a>

Innocence is Bliss

kxt5258@gmail.com (Kinley Tshering) — Sat, 03 Jan 2009 23:22:00 +0000

Thanks to the technological developments! I hardly go to movie theater to watch movies now. We can just buy DVDs or even better, we just need to order them online through several movie renting sites like Netflix. It is much cheaper than going to theater. But sometimes, you feel that you are happy that you made the choice of doing something which is more difficult, more expensive, or more challenging. My friends asked me to go for movie with them. I resisted at first but finally submitted to their persuasion. We drove to the theater which is about five minutes drive from our apartment. I tried to persuade them to watch “Body of Lies” but they insisted on “The Boy in the Stripped Pyjamas”. Finally we settled on voting and I lost the deal.

“The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas” is a British-American drama film produced in 2008. It is based on a fictional book by John Boyne. It circles around the adventure of a eight years old German boy during World War II. Bruno, a son of a German Nazi commander in a concentration camp suddenly has to move to a countryside from Berlin when his father gets promoted. On his very first day, Bruno looks from the window of his bedroom and spots several people in “stripped pyjamas”. He mistakes them for farmers and asks his mother if he can play with those farmer boys. But his mother figures out the truth and discourages Bruno from getting outside.

One day as Bruno is playing outside, he finds a way to get out through a window. Secretly, he goes there and becomes friend with a Jewish boy (Shmuel), who is of same age. He asks if Bruno have food in his house and if he likes soldiers. From that day, Bruno secretly steals food and goes to the camp to play with Shmuel. One day Shmuel tells Bruno that he didn't see his father for few days. They discovers that they can dig a hole under the fence so that they can bypass the fence. At the same time, Bruno's family tries to move out to a safe place for their children to grow. On the day his family were to move to a new town, Bruno escapes to the camp and tries to help Shmuel in finding his father. In the process, they are transferred to a gas chamber and killed.

"It's not fair. Me being stuck over here on my own. While you are over there, playing with friends all day long", says Bruno not realizing Shmuel is in a concentration camp. It is a beautiful story and I am glad I went to watch it. The trailer of the movie is given below:

New Year's Images

kxt5258@gmail.com (Kinley Tshering) — Fri, 02 Jan 2009 04:53:00 +0000

This photo of late His Majesty the 3rd Druk Gyalpo was taken by Frank and Lisina Hoch in 1955.

This photo is in upstate New York.

Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame

kxt5258@gmail.com (Kinley Tshering) — Thu, 01 Jan 2009 06:10:00 +0000

Before I went to Cleveland, all I know about that city is the Cleveland Cavaliers. Although I am a fan of Boston Celtics, Lebron James never fails to amaze me. But Cleveland has lot more to offer than just Cavaliers. I was there during the Christmas break and I felt in love with it. Besides the normal skyscrapers, they have Cleveland Browns, Great Lakes Science Center, Cleveland Indians, Lake Eric shores, and many other tourist attractions. But I never knew the Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame and Museum is located there.

The museum and Hall of Fame is located on the shores of Lake Eric and it has six stories of exhibitions. The entry fee is about $20 but they have a discount for students. So we got in for $17 each. We could see the dresses and musical instruments of great artist, listen to songs which shaped the rock and roll culture, play around with touch screens and learn the history of rock and roll, and see some original lyrics of great songs handwritten by the original artist. Elvis's car, guitars, dresses and shoes are all on display. We can also listen to 500 greatest songs that shaped the world of rock and roll. It's a great experience listening to Led Zeppelin's stairway to heaven, Beatles' yesterday and hey Jude, Midnight Oil's beds are burning, CCR's fortunate son, Bob Dylan's blowin’ in the wind, The Eagles' Hotel California, Elvis Presley's mystery train, and Pink Floyd's another brick in the wall, just to name a few.

They also show how the rock and roll culture flourished despite so many strong oppositions from conservative politicians and interest groups. They have a cafe on the 4th floor (or is it 5th, I am not sure now.) where we can drink and eat while enjoying the lake Eric water body. On the second floor, they have a small shop which sells souvenir. It's a life time experience and I am glad I made it.

Trip of North-East US

kxt5258@gmail.com (Kinley Tshering) — Thu, 01 Jan 2009 04:27:00 +0000

It's Thanksgiving break again! Time to rejoice, not because I celebrate it but because I get two week's break. I can do whatever I want and the world will not complain: no date lines, no late penalties, no surprise quizzes and test, no meetings, nothing! It's time to relax from the busy schedules of study and other club activities. So six of us decided to go on a road trip to Portland in Maine, the land of lobsters.

Everything went so well as we planned till we reached Salisbury, Massachusetts when one of our car flipped over and went below the road. Thank God! Nothing happened to us. The process of calling the American Automobile Association (AAA) and the police to access the accident took us quite a while. The car has been destroyed quite badly but I am still wondering how two of my friends managed to stay without even a very minor injury. They pulled the car up and sent it off to a workshop in Boston and we continued our trip to Portland.

It's already 1:00 am and we still have about 70 miles to cover. Six of us used one car and finally reached our hotel at about 2:00 am. We checked in and soon, everyone's fast asleep.
It's already 12:20 pm when I woke up next day. Two guys were still sleeping and the rest were about to leave. I rushed to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, flushed my face with few sprinkles of water, put on my jeans and jacket, and got ready to march with them.

Portland is not a big city by American standard. But for a person like me who's brought up in remote Bhutan, I can't help but jump in jubilation. All I need to do is remove those other American cities from my mind and it becomes a mega city. Over the period of about a week we went to the Portland Museum of Arts, Portland harbor, downtown, malls, and other tourist attractions in the town. The native cheese and beers have their own flavor. We went to watch "Quantum of Solace" and as predicted, I felt asleep. A visit to Portland or any part of Maine is not complete without having Lobster dinner. I tried to go with “lazy man” lobster (they basically remove everything for you) but decided to go for normal. Two huge lobsters and scrambled potatoes made the trip complete.

The wineries of New Hampshire and the wine they produce will make me nostalgic every time I taste a bad wine. The sales tax rate is lower than that of New York and it looks like everything is cheaper except the lobsters. The oceans and lighthouses, waves and sands, seagulls and seaweeds have their own beauty. Having been born in the mountainous country, the sight of oceans, horizon and plains are always more appealing to me than the snow capped mountains.

Once back to my station, I will be kept busy by my professors: readings, homework, projects, test, exams, and assignments. I also bought a book called "The Way of the Bodhisattva" by Shantideva, which is called "Choejug" in Bhutanese. It's a good book and I am enjoying every bit of it. In fact I should, I paid about $23.

Bhutan: HM's National Day Address

kxt5258@gmail.com (Kinley Tshering) — Fri, 19 Dec 2008 09:29:00 +0000

Childern of Heaven

kxt5258@gmail.com (Kinley Tshering) — Fri, 12 Dec 2008 19:58:00 +0000

In 1997, Majid Majidi directed a film which would be the first Iranian film to be nominated for Academy Awards for Best Foreign Language Film. Children of Heaven centers on the story of a young brother and his little sister, and the adventures over the lost pair of shoes. Ali (elder brother) takes Zahra's (little sister) shoes for repair, but loses it on his way back home. Realizing that their parents have no money to buy a replacement, the siblings decides to keep the matter secret. Instead, they devise a plan to share Ali's sneaker: Zahra will wear in the morning and Ali will wear in the evening since their school has a shift system. They go through a series of adventures in trying to hide the secret from parents, attend the school regularly and to acquire a pair of shoes for Zahra. Ali enters a marathon race hoping to get the third prize: a new pair of shoes. Unfortunately, Ali wins the race and receives a cup and a medal instead. The movie is on youtube and anyone who wishes to watch it can, Click Here.