March and Money
Today wasn’t the greatest day. Maybe I woke up on the wrong side of the bed, which is a shame because it’s the beginning of March – a new March. March has always been, my whole life, a long month. Maybe this is because it comes right after the shortest month. It’s like, if I can get through March, the rest of the year will be fine, which obviously makes no sense and is not true, but is somehow a comfort to me.
Today was one of those I-hate-being-in-a-foreign-country days. I don’t have many of those (or I probably wouldn’t continue to live abroad). It was probably all to do with the printer at school not working this morning (after a night of getting some needed schedule-making done), or my first class starting 20 minutes late because of the vice-principal picking traffic control volunteers (whatever that means), or just the fact that I teach for three hours and 20 minutes straight every day. By lunch, I’m exhausted and want to veg out, except I have to go back after lunch and teach another class.
*
Pee boy. The boy in the corner of class 5B reeks of pee. Phuntsho, another teacher, says I should just tell him to bathe or wash his gho – “We Bhutanese are very blunt.”
*
People in Bhutan ask about money. It’s not considered rude or faux pas, and there’s no time limit to knowing someone before you can broach financial matters. As soon as they’ve asked where I’m living, they ask how much we pay for rent. This happens to Scott as well. Once we reveal the figure – 6,000 ngultrums, which is roughly the equivalent of US$134 a month – everyone’s reaction is the same – “That’s too expensive.” Many local people pay around 2,000 ngultrums a month, less than US$50, but we don’t mind paying extra for the view, the amenities like reliable hot water, showers, a refrigerator, and just general niceties. It’s just one of those situations where other people are planting seeds of doubt, seeds of wondering if we’re getting ripped off because we’re foreigners, which is almost, unfortunately, ever-present.
Today was one of those I-hate-being-in-a-foreign-country days. I don’t have many of those (or I probably wouldn’t continue to live abroad). It was probably all to do with the printer at school not working this morning (after a night of getting some needed schedule-making done), or my first class starting 20 minutes late because of the vice-principal picking traffic control volunteers (whatever that means), or just the fact that I teach for three hours and 20 minutes straight every day. By lunch, I’m exhausted and want to veg out, except I have to go back after lunch and teach another class.
*
Pee boy. The boy in the corner of class 5B reeks of pee. Phuntsho, another teacher, says I should just tell him to bathe or wash his gho – “We Bhutanese are very blunt.”
*
People in Bhutan ask about money. It’s not considered rude or faux pas, and there’s no time limit to knowing someone before you can broach financial matters. As soon as they’ve asked where I’m living, they ask how much we pay for rent. This happens to Scott as well. Once we reveal the figure – 6,000 ngultrums, which is roughly the equivalent of US$134 a month – everyone’s reaction is the same – “That’s too expensive.” Many local people pay around 2,000 ngultrums a month, less than US$50, but we don’t mind paying extra for the view, the amenities like reliable hot water, showers, a refrigerator, and just general niceties. It’s just one of those situations where other people are planting seeds of doubt, seeds of wondering if we’re getting ripped off because we’re foreigners, which is almost, unfortunately, ever-present.
posted by Siapiau | 10:00 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home