I was born into a remote village in Bhutan, a tiny landlocked country nestled in the eastern Himalayas. My mother, a strong and determined woman, raised me and my siblings on her own after our father left us when I was just a young boy. Despite the challenges we faced as a single-parent family in a traditional society, my mother worked tirelessly to provide for me and my siblings.
Growing up in a village meant that I had a childhood filled with challenges and adventure. As a little kid, life was austere and joyful. I spent most of my days playing with friends, exploring the forests and mountains that surrounded our village, running around in the fields, climbing up and down the trees and rocks, playing with sticks and stones, wrestling naked in the dirt, laughing as we did silly stuffs, crying as fell and got hurt, so on and so forth. We had no toys to play with except for toka-shing (wooden-ox), a symmetrically y-shaped branch of a particular tree, cut to size, and tips sharpened to look like horns of an ox. Sometimes we would also use an empty tobacco container discarded by users as our toys.
My mother was a skilled weaver, and I would often watch her create beautiful textiles using a traditional back-strap loom. She would then give it to the master tailor popularly known as Zorga Memey, an old grandpa from the lower hillock village, to hand-stitch the textiles into Kira (female dress) and Gho (male dress) for us to wear during Losar - the Lunar New Year. Losar was the most exciting time for all of us as we got to wear brand new dresses and feast on delicious dishes once a year. Mom taught us the art of weaving but I never picked up the skill. Traditionally, it is said to be a woman’s trademark, so, it was natural that sister picked up the skills quickly. Even my little brother would weave mini rainbow-coloured belts with fringes with a mini back-strap loom that was made particularly for us. It was more like toys for us but a handy learning kit for kids with passion for weaving. As for me, I would rather spin the loose yarn into balls reluctantly or play outdoors with my friends.
All of a sudden, my life changed when I was sent to a school in a strange place far from home. I guess I had come of age when dad asked me playfully if I wanted to go to school with sister. In excitement, I said yes, although I was oblivious of what school meant at the time. I simply thought of it as a nice place wherein one could have unlimited fun. Perhaps, dad made me think likewise with his sugarcoated words and actions. I happily consented to going because of that and of course I liked being with my sister. Later, nothing was how I imagined it to be rather it turned out to be unexpectedly different. I was already missing my mom for days and then dad had left me too. My sister was nowhere to be seen. I felt betrayed by my dad. I felt like an abandoned child seated among strangers and in a strange place. I was lonely, heartbroken and helpless. I probably cried a river of tears over several months and/or years.
It was the farsightedness of our dad that we were enrolled into a school, but it was our mom who toiled hard and made sacrifices for our education. Indeed, me and my sider were one of the first few kids (second generation) from our village to be enrolled into a modern school. There was no school in our village, so he had us enrolled in a school far from home. The school was in his hometown, which was at least two days journey from my hometown. We had to walk on foot for nearly a day and travel by bus for a whole day. But for me, it felt like eternity and the new place felt like an entirely different planet.
When I was little, she would run a tiny shop, the first and the only one in the whole village. It greatly benefitted the village folks although profit was marginal, as my mother would say. With passing time, dad came home less frequently until he stopped coming back home. This meant that there was no new stock coming in to refill the shelves. Soon the shop was empty and there was nothing to sell. The business simply ceased, and she was left with no source of income. A few years later, someone gave us a news that father was no more. My mother officially became a widow, although she had been living alone for years. Despite everything going against her she did whatever she could to continue sending us to school and to pay for our school supplies. Fortunately, mom had two other women’s support throughout. One was her ageing mother, and the other was one of her elder sisters who was a celibate nun. The trio with the support of the village folks made it possible for me and my sibling to reach where we have now. But then, unfortunately, mom’s pillar of support fell one by one before I finished high school – first aunt Barma passed away and a few years later gandma also passed away.
As we grew older, my mother's determination to give us the best possible education became more apparent. She would work long hours doing all sorts of labour in the village. She did all the farming works in the field, took care of the animals (cows, a horse, a dog and a cat), fetched water and firewood, brewed alcohol beverages, cooked meals, washed and cleaned, looked after us, and did many other daily chores. She was a woman of strong character with many hands, and with deep and unconditional affection for her children. To the village folks she was known for her brave heart, kindness and friendliness. Even as a woman, she single-handedly managed everything and ensured our continued wellbeing, progress and success. She braved through thick and thin, under rain and sun.
Early on, l wasn’t fond of studying which is why I failed a class once or twice, I think. As I grew a bit older, I became better in my studies. I excelled in high school examination and qualified for Sherubtse College, the one and only university in the country. However, I left college after a week and joined Royal Bhutan Polytechnic to pursue electrical engineering. Although I was interested in arts and environmental science, I chose engineering with one purpose in mind, that is, to visit Japan. As a teenager, I began to develop a strong liking towards Japan after reading a book.
Meanwhile, my sister had to drop out of school after middle school. As is the case with many students from low-income backgrounds, she dropped school and went on to look for a job to support the family. With the help of one of the half-brothers living in Thimphu, she was able to undergo a vocational training and landed a small job in the government thereafter. Indeed, she was able to help us morally and financially, and relieved some of our mom’s pressures ever since. She became the next pillar of support for mom after grandma and aunt passed away.
With the support of my mother and elder sister, I graduated from the polytechnic in first division. After graduating I went on to join the civil service and worked as a Manager/Section Officer (Electrical) and later served in several capacities in the Youth and Sports Department, under the Education Ministry. I also worked in a civil society organisation (Youth Development Fund) for two years as a Project Manager for the Simply Bhutan Project. In addition to the mainstream jobs, I served as a volunteer for many youth groups and not-government organisations for several years.
Today, I do not work anymore for the government or a non-government organisation in the country although I wish I am. I moved to Australia for further studies and since then I have been living and working here. I live in a foreign country and in a technologically advanced city but I have never forgotten my humble roots. Above all, I can never forget the many sacrifices my mother made to give me a good education and a better life. I also remember the love and kindness of my grandmother (Late Abi Murshing) and maternal aunt (Aum Barma) without whose support for mom, me and my siblings, we would not have come thus far. I am grateful for their unwavering love and support, and I hope to one day give back to my community and help others achieve their dreams, just as my three mothers did for me. I am also forever grateful to my late dad for recognising the importance of modern education and enrolling us into the schools. Above all, it is thanks to the Royal Government of Bhutan for creating all those causes and conditions for a village boy to dream, rise and shine, reach and achieve, and be where I am today. Thank you Ama, Abi and Barma!
