Expect the Unexpected
“I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you for lunch. My principal threw an unexpected lunch for all the teachers so I had to rush back to school,” I said.
“Well, that’s expected,” Sonam replied.
*
Being unplanned is exhausting. Draining. I don’t like it. I never realized how much my body and mind operate on plans and organization until I had to let some of it go. I thought I had gotten used to a developing country’s sense of time – it’s flexibility – when Scott and I lived in Tanzania, but even there, we were still somewhat in a western trapping being at a school opened and largely run by Americans and westerners. Activities and schedules were planned in advance and followed through as much as possible. Of course, there were always surprises, and we had to get used to them and accept them.
But in Bhutan, there is no western trapping. I am in a Bhutanese school among Bhutanese teachers in a Bhutanese town. The concept of ‘planning in advance’ went out the window. I can be told at 2:30 that I need to attend a sick visit at 3:10 and once we get to the house, the visit’s been cancelled. I can be told to be at school the next morning at 6:30, have someone call that morning at 6:25 to say the time’s been changed to 9:00, and then still have to wait when 9:00 rolls around. I could go on and on with one example after another about unexpected visitors, cancelled classes, hours lost waiting and waiting and waiting.
Today, I kind of operated on the Bhutanese mentality of going with the flow. I received a call last night reminding me of a media workshop that was being held at Sherubtse. (The person was calling at 6:30 to also ask if I wanted to join them for dinner; I had to decline). I had first known about this workshop a couple weeks ago but intentionally didn’t plan on attending as it was being held over Blessed Rainy Day weekend, a weekend Scott and I hope to be out of town. Since I hadn’t put it in my planner, and there have been so many other things to occupy my mind, I let it slip from my radar. After the call last night, I figured I should attend part of it on the day I would be in town. So I thought about it for some time and called my principal around 8pm to inform him of this workshop the next morning. This is something I ordinarily would never do, but we’re in Bhutan and this is how things operate. A one-night notice to miss the next morning of work is acceptable.
So instead of teaching my usual four classes in the morning, I went to this workshop at Sherubtse. I had plans to meet a friend for lunch at the college, which I figured I could do when the workshop broke for lunch. Around 12:30, ten minutes before the lunch break, Sir Tashi called to inform Vice Principal (who had gone into school that morning as usual thinking he would have a regular work day and was told by the principal that his presence was needed at this workshop, so rushed down to the college) and I that the Principal was throwing a surprise lunch for the staff and we should attend. As the Vice Principal and I were trying to leave to get back to the school, the organizer of the workshop said, “But there’s a lunch for you here that we’re hosting. Your principal knows that. I don’t know why you need to leave.” For a moment I was torn, but we still managed to escape. In my mind, I had had lunch plans with a friend, but apparently, there was another plan that I was to be at the workshop lunch, but an unexpected lunch hosted by the principal trumped it all.
When it comes down to it, I like habit. I like routine. I like plans and sticking to them. I like filling things into my planner and I like crossing them off when they’re complete. On the other hand, I also like having no plans; for instance, when I travel. But I plan for that – I mentally prepare myself – for not having plans.
(As a side note – Scott and I were supposed to have a houseguest tonight; he never arrived in town. I was supposed to meet up with a friend around 4; she just called (at 5:08) to say she’s running late and couldn’t stop by the house. I know – this is life. Plans change. But, really, this much in one day?)
“Well, that’s expected,” Sonam replied.
*
Being unplanned is exhausting. Draining. I don’t like it. I never realized how much my body and mind operate on plans and organization until I had to let some of it go. I thought I had gotten used to a developing country’s sense of time – it’s flexibility – when Scott and I lived in Tanzania, but even there, we were still somewhat in a western trapping being at a school opened and largely run by Americans and westerners. Activities and schedules were planned in advance and followed through as much as possible. Of course, there were always surprises, and we had to get used to them and accept them.
But in Bhutan, there is no western trapping. I am in a Bhutanese school among Bhutanese teachers in a Bhutanese town. The concept of ‘planning in advance’ went out the window. I can be told at 2:30 that I need to attend a sick visit at 3:10 and once we get to the house, the visit’s been cancelled. I can be told to be at school the next morning at 6:30, have someone call that morning at 6:25 to say the time’s been changed to 9:00, and then still have to wait when 9:00 rolls around. I could go on and on with one example after another about unexpected visitors, cancelled classes, hours lost waiting and waiting and waiting.
Today, I kind of operated on the Bhutanese mentality of going with the flow. I received a call last night reminding me of a media workshop that was being held at Sherubtse. (The person was calling at 6:30 to also ask if I wanted to join them for dinner; I had to decline). I had first known about this workshop a couple weeks ago but intentionally didn’t plan on attending as it was being held over Blessed Rainy Day weekend, a weekend Scott and I hope to be out of town. Since I hadn’t put it in my planner, and there have been so many other things to occupy my mind, I let it slip from my radar. After the call last night, I figured I should attend part of it on the day I would be in town. So I thought about it for some time and called my principal around 8pm to inform him of this workshop the next morning. This is something I ordinarily would never do, but we’re in Bhutan and this is how things operate. A one-night notice to miss the next morning of work is acceptable.
So instead of teaching my usual four classes in the morning, I went to this workshop at Sherubtse. I had plans to meet a friend for lunch at the college, which I figured I could do when the workshop broke for lunch. Around 12:30, ten minutes before the lunch break, Sir Tashi called to inform Vice Principal (who had gone into school that morning as usual thinking he would have a regular work day and was told by the principal that his presence was needed at this workshop, so rushed down to the college) and I that the Principal was throwing a surprise lunch for the staff and we should attend. As the Vice Principal and I were trying to leave to get back to the school, the organizer of the workshop said, “But there’s a lunch for you here that we’re hosting. Your principal knows that. I don’t know why you need to leave.” For a moment I was torn, but we still managed to escape. In my mind, I had had lunch plans with a friend, but apparently, there was another plan that I was to be at the workshop lunch, but an unexpected lunch hosted by the principal trumped it all.
When it comes down to it, I like habit. I like routine. I like plans and sticking to them. I like filling things into my planner and I like crossing them off when they’re complete. On the other hand, I also like having no plans; for instance, when I travel. But I plan for that – I mentally prepare myself – for not having plans.
(As a side note – Scott and I were supposed to have a houseguest tonight; he never arrived in town. I was supposed to meet up with a friend around 4; she just called (at 5:08) to say she’s running late and couldn’t stop by the house. I know – this is life. Plans change. But, really, this much in one day?)
posted by Siapiau | 5:37 PM
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