Teacher’s Day is serious business in Bhutan. There was a considerable buzz from students weeks prior to the date, which I thought strange considering they get little out of the whole affair. But I was game to see what lay in store. In the five countries I have taught in, teacher appreciation is a rather mild affair where students give gift cards, mugs, or stationary supplies. Oddly enough the US seemed the least enthused, though when I look at other teachers’ Facebook pages I see this varies depending upon the community’s income level.
Teacher’s Day took place on Saturday, May 2nd. Saturdays in Bhutan are half days. After 3 periods of class students are typically required to indulge in agricultural work for an hour while teachers either supervise or attend professional development meetings that last well into the afternoon, but every once in a while Saturdays are devoted to something special. This means classes get thrown by the wayside, which makes the day more eventful even if it causes a bit of a scheduling headache.
On that very morning I awoke with a rather cloudy head. Unbeknownst to me this was the onset of a very serious infection that would keep me in bed and away from school for several days. At the time I thought this fogginess rather strange, but concerted myself to make it through the day. As I walked to school I could hear the sounds of excited banter. When a small group of students saw me they instantly blurted, “Sir! Sir! You come to class party, okay? After assembly you come!” Knowing I would get the same invitation from various classes I hesitated to give them a definitive response, but eventually I acquiesced, deciding I can schedule other class parties around it.
This was only the beginning. Once I made it onto school grounds I was ‘attacked’ by scores of students. They all rushed at me in droves, like zombies, crawling and swimming through their peers to meet my gaze. But instead of feasting on my brains they merely wanted to present me a gift. Fortunately I had brought an empty bag to school in anticipation of a few gifts. Student after student presented me cylindrical gifts (pens, most likely) vested in gift wrap. A pen may not seem like too much of an indulgence to us, but considering entire families often live on less than $200 a month, such an offer is incredibly generous and speaks wonders to the selflessness that exists in Bhutan. I made sure to thank each and every student whilst making eye contact, quickly stuffing each item into my gho. But by the time I had reached the bottom-most level of the school, my gho was full to capacity—and those pockets can hold books, balls, just about anything. The sheer determination of these students to fight through the crowds and present me with gifts bordered on ridiculous.
(Some of my bounty from the day)
I eventually managed to escape the unstinting hordes for a minute and upon reaching my office I let out a sigh of relief. I took this moment of respite to relocate my gifts to my bag. Little did I know my gho would be filled twice more by the end of the day. Coupled with the dream-like fogginess besetting me, everything up to that point had made for a very surreal experience, but it was far from over.
When I left the office block I was corralled over to a patch of grass by a few of my students. They insisted I help them with something, but exactly what that entailed I didn’t know. They started digging with their hands and farming tools then handed me a sapling. I asked, “What is this for?” to which they responded that I was to plant two trees in honor of my presence at the school. What a cool idea, I thought. I then delicately placed the saplings into the fresh earth and thanked them before they quickly buried the roots.
(After the tree planting)
The assembly commemorating the occasion with various performances was to take place at 9am. Taking BST (Bhutan Stretchable Time) into account, however, it was pushed back some hour plus. In the interim I was beckoned to a class party. I walked into the classroom of 6A to see the room transformed. The students had decked out the inside with homemade streamers and balloons from the bakery. They had written well-wishes all over the chalkboard and had a variety of treats sitting out to offer to their teachers. Again their generosity moved me (albeit with a tinge of guilt). The students seated us, the various subject teachers, into a central location where they poured tea and offered snacks. There I was given ceremonial scarves and asked to pop a balloon. After we had been properly stuffed with sugar, the students sang songs and danced for us. It was all so very sweet to see them giving back. I certainly hadn’t seen them this well behaved so I welcomed the experience.
(One of many performances for the teachers)
The sugar, noise, and lack of fresh air really exacerbated my malady but I pushed through another party before everyone moved to the multi-purpose hall for the grand assembly. Once everything was in place and the students were seated, a few scarves were given and the vice principal assisted in the ceremonial cutting of a cake.
The next couple hours yielded various displays of traditional and modern dance, songs, and skits. There was a certain magic to it all—seeing these children perform knowing full well they designed, practiced, and prepared on their own. I found the whole day a great exercise in personal responsibility and a wonderful display of Bhutan’s great cultural strengths: hospitality and altruism.
(A very blurry snippet of Class 8 girls performing a dance)
We took a few pictures and just like that, the day was through. The students went to cleaning up the classrooms and returned them to their original state. Meanwhile I had had all I could take in my feverish state and set off home with a school bag filled to the brim with gifts and a few items that didn’t fit which I tucked into my gho.
The next day when I unwrapped all the gifts I counted 108 pens (coincidentally—or perhaps not—a very auspicious number in Buddhism), a few woven baskets, a couple mugs, some ornate cups for arra, and heaps of cute letters. I felt extremely grateful to all the students for their kindness, hard work, and generosity. The hard truth is it can be easy for teachers to get bogged down by the day-to-day and forget the bigger picture of just what exactly we are trying to accomplish. Teaching is hard work and this rings especially true for me here in situations where I find my pedagogy totally ineffective due to the country’s unique cultural context. But days like Teacher’s Day remind me that students possess a multitude of strengths that I can build upon and that helps resuscitate my ambitious aims. With this clarity of mind I am able to recognize just how lucky I am to play a role in this most historic transition for Bhutan, so my thanks goes out to them: the students of today and future of tomorrow
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