The Decision.

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Time is the ultimate God of all times. Time determines what needs to be restrained and what needs to be abolished. Time gives life yet raises no child. Time takes life yet buries no corpse. Time speaks of no man yet seeks the destiny of all men. Time hears no word yet listens all prayers ... Time is invisible...Time is what all of us await for. 

          Time is like a soccer ball in the middle of field. It takes no part in either side. In fact it is inter-linked with every individual player . It is an object that bounces, speeds, flies, leaps, curls, rolls, spins, and what not with an external force applied from a player and travels into the direction intended. Unless one manages, either deliberately or out of ignorance, to thrust into a wrong direction, time never betrays one. Due to such factor, there are moments where one finds summoned with immense of joys, pleasures, contentment, hopes, and blah blah...there are moments where one finds devastated with furies, anxieties, catastrophes, poverty, and blah blah...Nevertheless, the very root cause to all the aforementioned feel of congeniality and disdain boils down in one's choice of calibrating and binding the final decision. D-E-C-I-S-I-O-N, a word that was coined with eight letters, may sound pleasing and feel light at first. However, when confronted with making of future career/next phase of life decision within a very limited amount of time, and I mean very very very limited to about 5-10 minutes or so, the eight lettered word is no different than a whole world being weighed upon you. With every tick of clock, the weight gets heavier and heavier. It was the day,

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 when I with some other scholarship-fulfilled-candidates were waiting outside the BCCI (Bhutan Chamber of Commerce and Industry) building to be called in any moment of second. My thoughts and decisions were vague for I wasn't sure what scholarship spot will be left for me. Seconds disappeared into minutes and minutes into hours, yet still I held myself together firm and rigid for I pondered to see if my hard works paid off and the prayers I have been making reached the God. It was around 3-ish (late afternoon), when I finally heard someone at the BCCI door calling, "Tshering Penjor from Bajothang Higher Secondar School". Loaded with excitements and joys, I gushed through the doorway and into the building I perished. I had a wait in the lounge for few minutes and then a fine man (who I later found out was the Scholarship Division Officer) walked to me and said, "There is a spot to America and couple others to Australia and Canada. Your maths score is excellent. You should pick one among these." ....See, here's the thing. I always wanted and dreamed of becoming an engineer, a civil engineer--to be more specific, and the offers that I was made at that very moment was the last thing I wanted as my career, i.e. teaching. This time, "TIME" awaited for me. Time threw me into the thickest of soup and shallowest of the valley. For a minute, my thoughts froze and visions diminished. I had to man up! And I did. I saw the broader picture of life in traveling overseas and knowing the norms that I have not even heard or had the slightest clue of. I ditched what I thought would be my primary career and took charge of what I very disrespectfully looked down onto. That DECISION altered my entire future play. 

       I landed in the United States of America on August 21, 2007, and joined the Hiram College Orientation Program for International Students the following morning. From the very first day on, I started observing the differences in culture, society, people, communication, environment, and so on, and quit often contrasted with how and where I was born and raised. At times, I felt like a left out puzzle piece who is trying to fit in. My first semester in Hiram College was a total nightmare. I had the least (or may be not at all) knowledge of using a computer. As a matter of fact, I wasn't even sure how to turn ON and OFF my laptop. To the worse, my typing speed was very very very slow. For instance, if I was to type the word "cow", it would take me few seconds to look for letter "o" after hitting "c" button. All the class works, home works, assignments, and notifications were posted through the cite called "Sakai" that was created by Hiram College. And I always had trouble logging in for I would either forget the "password" or accidentally keep the "Caps Lock" on. During my first day of class (Calculus I), I walked into the class late. I was literally embarrassed when all the class plus the professor stared at me. Well, that wasn't only the day I was late for class. Many a times I would be late and the professor would ask out 

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loud, "What's the time?"  Poor me, blushing and embarrassed, would look up on the wall clock and say, "8:40.....8:35......8:50....8:33...." The class time was at 8:30 a.m. Time itself has become a challenge. 

       Aside from walking late in the class, I was astonished by the interaction between professors and students. To the extreme, I even heard and saw some calling their "Professor" just by the name, which I thought  was an "eristic imitatio" compared to back home. I mean, in Bhutan and many parts of the world, if you call your teacher/professor by their name, you are likely to be punished or if the situation worsens then you are more likely to be suspended from school. 

       The trend of contrast in terms of interaction/communication wasn't limited to school but to home. I was even more astonished how polite and soft-spoken the American parents were to their child/children. So, far I have never seen or heard a parent either raising their voice or hand against their children. It, in fact, is what I never saw or experienced back home. Just to let you in my secret room, many a times I was beaten by my teachers and parents. Yes! I was mad, angry, helpless, and had all those negative/crazy thoughts against them during those days. However, because of those days sufferings and laments, this is what I am now shaped into. Yes! I am thousands of miles away from home. Yes! I don't have any biologically related family/relative around. Yes! I am battling alone. Yes! I have confronted and can still confront whatsoever situation I am placed into.  Yes! I am fearless. Yes! I am ready to stand on my own and start a family. Yes! I am my side kick. YES!!! I am proud and grateful to those merciless teachers and parents. And YES! I thank them every day of my life. 

       Like wise, if I am to mention each and every situation I am confronted with, then there are tens and hundreds. 

       Having faced and said all the aforementioned challenges and contrasts, I am very content with the choice I made approximately four years ago. The choice that wide opened my eyes to see the outside world. The choice that cracked my shell of conservatism to a social life. The choice that my younger's now look upon me as a role model. The choice that I can now go home and fill the existing knowledge of those less fortunate ones about the outside world...Through thick and thin, I survived all these fours years. Now, I await for May 16, 2010.  

Adventure, not a journey.

The very misconception and misinterpretation of the terms "Adventure" and "Journey" is profoundly seen in most of the averagely literate human beings. At one point I also had the connotation that these two words carry an identical meaning/definition.

The day I was selected as one of the Royal Government of Bhutan (RGoB) scholarship candidate, who will be studying in the Hiram College, Ohio, United States of America, I felt the heaviest heartbeat ever and a whisper that kept panning around my ear lobes. I tried knowing what kind of weight summoned upon my heart that I never felt before. The harder I tried, the more paradoxical it appeared. The paradox of studying abroad for four consecutive years. The paradox of being self guidance. The paradox of incorporating with a new culture, surrounding, people, food, and most importantly advanced technologies.     It was no different than a fire. The harder you blow, the wider it spreads. On the other hand, the circling whisper around my ear lobes were no better. The whispers of terror from various people that majoring in Mathematics could sometimes lead to a psychological effect, is a field with less scope in the job market, and blah blah...At that very moment of despair, I had the choice to turn my back onto the opportunity that I never thought would be bestowed upon me out of the hard work that I put myself into during last few months of the year 2006. But I didn't. I knew and fore-felt down the long run that something awaits for me. Something that will take me to the other end of the world and resurrect "me" to a "new me". Something that will implant a new vision, feel, and say about the world. Something that will leave an immense of adverse bits and pieces of objectives, which when plaited together will generate a whole new level of "future me". 

I still remember the early morning of 19th August, 2007, cleaning myself, dressing up, and hailing towards Paro Airport, Bhutan. I was already apprehended by the travel from Bhutan to the United States of America. And to make the situation uglier than it was, just as I was about to check in, I found out that my flight ticket wasn't registered but in waiting list. The flight attendants and the check in services kept me warming the chair that I have been sitting for past 1 hr with all my luggage heaped before me. May be that very moment of wait was only the time I, for the first time, started running out of thoughts and says. I ran out of thoughts for I wasn't prepared to confront such desperate situation. And I ran out of says for I didn't have anyone close to me to talk about how that moment of wait was infuriating and haunting my quest of traveling to America without having to face such (or any other related) situation(s). 

After a prolonged and anxious wait by the check in service, finally a fine voice came hailing across the desk saying that there is an empty spot and I must hurry up to board. Within a flick of second all my apprehensions, anxieties, and mazes disappeared like a smoke in the air. Everything went so fast that they didn't even let me bade farewell to my beloved families/relatives, who were still outside waiting to watch I safely take off from Paro Airport. All I got to do was wave my left hand and pan my eyes through their faces. Their faces spoke no word but care, love, and wish for my safe travel. I was, once again, incarcerated in the midst of pain that otherwise could have been avoided for I was pessimist when it just started. 

After approximately 5 hrs in the air, I landed in Suvarnabhumi International Airport, BKK. I had a night hold at Hotel Bangkok City In, opposite of World Trade Center, and another flight waiting the next night (20th August) at 11:55 p.m. Although for the first time in BKK, I toured extensively during the day and purchased lots of non-essential commodities for I was ignorant of what "new me" will require to accommodate amongst the "old them". Anyway, that night I flew from Bkk and after approximately 8 hrs, I saw myself flying over yet closing into Tokyo, the capital city of Japan. Eventually, I landed in Narita (NRT) Airport and had to wait about two hrs in lobby as I was taking the transit flight to O'Hare International Airport (ORD), Chicago. In addition to the 2 hrs of wait, after approximately 11 hrs of flight from Tokyo, I finally landed in Chicago airport. By then, I was both mentally and manually drenched into fatigue. There are moments in life when "downs" keep weighing more than "ups" and "surprises" are synonym of "panics". And that was the exact moment. I followed the crews from the same flight, saw them claiming their luggage--I did the same but with some hesitation yet I still kept following them until most of them settled at the port. Again my wait for was about 2 hrs. I kept reading the time. At first, I thought they were flying in the same flight. It wasn't until last few minutes I asked a guy sitting next to me if he was flying to America. For some solid 10-15 seconds he stared at me and uttered no word. Then, slowly, he said, "This is America". All of a sudden, my eyes, thoughts, and all those patient waits ran into maze. I think by the look in my face he knew I was new to America, to which he added, "Chicago is in America. It is one of the largest city in Illinois. Where are going?" I quickly pulled out my itinerary from my back pack and showed to him. His eyes scrolled down the page and to the next. Then he said that I was not supposed to be there and shouldn't have claimed my luggage. I started panicking but the guy was kind enough to point me to the customer service. I hasted my way to upstair, rushed to the customer service explaining what happened, and the lady at desk handed me a map and to follow the direction marked with red ink, which would lead me back to check in. I don't know how but I got at check in quicker than I realized. Now, even to worse the check in lady goes, "Sir, I am sorry. You are late. Your flight has been boarded." In despair, all I managed to do was request again and again, "Please...please....please...please....I have someone from College waiting for me at Cleveland airport. If I miss this flight, then I won't be able to get to college. I am new to America....please please please...." May be the check in lady couldn't stand there watching "poor me" begging to board, then she said that she will see if I can still make it. She dialed some numbers and after talking for few seconds hung up. She said, "You are lucky. You have about 10 minutes to get to the terminal."

Finally, after flying approximately 25 hrs from Paro (Bhutan), here I am now in the Senior year eagerly excited to see my beloved ones after four consecutive years of studying in Hiram College, Ohio, USA.