Nima Dema and the King
Yesterday I got to meet Dasho Zinpon, the King’s attendant. He is traveling the country visiting all the students the King sponsors – poor students who wouldn’t likely be able to succeed without the financial support as well as the support that comes from knowing you’ve been picked by the King himself.
At first the whole thing was kind of a chore. Instead of having our already postponed staff meeting at 10:40, the staff waited around for the Dasho to come. Come 12:30, when school is let out on Saturdays, he still hadn’t arrived. As we were all leaving, Tenzin told me I’d have to come back since I am Nima Dema’s class teacher and Nima Dema is one of the King’s chosen students. I had had no clue that in my class, 6A, there was the one and only King-sponsored student at Kanglung Primary School. I went back to the school around 2:45 and the Dasho finally arrived around 3:00.
Poor Nima had to sit in a room full of adults talking about her. It was the Dasho, four other men traveling with him from the district and region, six of us teachers, the vice principal, and principal. As soon as we sat down, the Dasho asked who Nima’s class teacher was. Little did I know that I play a big part in Nima’s future. The goal for her is to pass class 6, go on to board at Kanglung Secondary School, pass the class 10 test, the class 12 test, attend Sherubtse, and eventually have a successful job.
The Dasho spoke of the importance of making sure the money – given by the King himself – went toward Nima’s education and betterment, and not toward alcohol for the parent or even food for the family. Nima should be clothed well, look better than even the “rich” kids at the school, have the right amount of exercise books, good shoes. Any leftover money should be given to Nima as needed, like for pujas or other unexpected school events that may require money. The Dasho was tasking us with Nima’s success, her future. If she failed, we failed.
When Nima was taken for her personal interview, the Dasho spoke of Gross National Happiness, how the country and the people still had a ways to go. He told a story about visiting a village where an old, blind woman lived in a shack. As she couldn’t see, she barely knew what she was cooking. In the same village lived families with money and cars who didn’t help take care of the old, blind woman. As long as that scenario existed, the Dasho said, GNH doesn’t exist in Bhutan. He had a meeting with the people of this village and shamed them. He said if the next time he visited and the woman was dead, then the village has failed. He wanted them to check on her every morning, to give her food to cook, to take care of her.
So that, in essence, is what we’re supposed to do for Nima. As long as she does well and continues to pass on to the next level of school, we – the teachers – have done their part and Nima will get this support from the King. I was told later that her older sister was under the same program, but failed the class 10 test. She now works in the house.
In one sense, I thought the whole meeting was really cool (especially when we were all given glossy pictures of the king and a pin). But in another sense, it was also kind of creepy. I know in actuality it isn’t, but just the whole tone of it bothered me a little bit – laying out Nima’s life in front of her, the notion that underlying her whole education and everything she does within it, is the wizard behind the curtain.
This is going to sound unbearably cheesy – In my own way, I am a Nima Dema. My whole life growing up, I was given opportunities that my family couldn’t afford – dance lessons, summer camps, going to China, college. I wasn’t handpicked by a King; it was my mother who sought and fought for all those things for me. And she taught me to look for these opportunities. I’m lucky – my mother is my King.
At first the whole thing was kind of a chore. Instead of having our already postponed staff meeting at 10:40, the staff waited around for the Dasho to come. Come 12:30, when school is let out on Saturdays, he still hadn’t arrived. As we were all leaving, Tenzin told me I’d have to come back since I am Nima Dema’s class teacher and Nima Dema is one of the King’s chosen students. I had had no clue that in my class, 6A, there was the one and only King-sponsored student at Kanglung Primary School. I went back to the school around 2:45 and the Dasho finally arrived around 3:00.
Poor Nima had to sit in a room full of adults talking about her. It was the Dasho, four other men traveling with him from the district and region, six of us teachers, the vice principal, and principal. As soon as we sat down, the Dasho asked who Nima’s class teacher was. Little did I know that I play a big part in Nima’s future. The goal for her is to pass class 6, go on to board at Kanglung Secondary School, pass the class 10 test, the class 12 test, attend Sherubtse, and eventually have a successful job.
The Dasho spoke of the importance of making sure the money – given by the King himself – went toward Nima’s education and betterment, and not toward alcohol for the parent or even food for the family. Nima should be clothed well, look better than even the “rich” kids at the school, have the right amount of exercise books, good shoes. Any leftover money should be given to Nima as needed, like for pujas or other unexpected school events that may require money. The Dasho was tasking us with Nima’s success, her future. If she failed, we failed.
When Nima was taken for her personal interview, the Dasho spoke of Gross National Happiness, how the country and the people still had a ways to go. He told a story about visiting a village where an old, blind woman lived in a shack. As she couldn’t see, she barely knew what she was cooking. In the same village lived families with money and cars who didn’t help take care of the old, blind woman. As long as that scenario existed, the Dasho said, GNH doesn’t exist in Bhutan. He had a meeting with the people of this village and shamed them. He said if the next time he visited and the woman was dead, then the village has failed. He wanted them to check on her every morning, to give her food to cook, to take care of her.
So that, in essence, is what we’re supposed to do for Nima. As long as she does well and continues to pass on to the next level of school, we – the teachers – have done their part and Nima will get this support from the King. I was told later that her older sister was under the same program, but failed the class 10 test. She now works in the house.
In one sense, I thought the whole meeting was really cool (especially when we were all given glossy pictures of the king and a pin). But in another sense, it was also kind of creepy. I know in actuality it isn’t, but just the whole tone of it bothered me a little bit – laying out Nima’s life in front of her, the notion that underlying her whole education and everything she does within it, is the wizard behind the curtain.
This is going to sound unbearably cheesy – In my own way, I am a Nima Dema. My whole life growing up, I was given opportunities that my family couldn’t afford – dance lessons, summer camps, going to China, college. I wasn’t handpicked by a King; it was my mother who sought and fought for all those things for me. And she taught me to look for these opportunities. I’m lucky – my mother is my King.
posted by Siapiau | 7:28 PM
1 Comments:
The same Dasho came to my school. However, I was not invited to participate in meeting him, speaking with him or eating lunch with him. Apparently we have 19 students receiving funding from the King, but we are receiving money for 45!!! Figure that one out please.
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