Thoughts and even more thoughts

I was born on 3rd December, 1990 in the Capital City of Bhutan- a small Himalayan Country located near the eastern ridges of the great mountain. In that time and place, your upbringing follows a pattern weaved by the genitals that you are born with. I am pretty sure this is still the case among many different ethnic communities or even in the modern society —

Colors are chosen for you depending on your gender. “Pink!!?? NO! That is what a girl would wear. Here, try this Blue one. That is much more suited for a Boy.” Toys are chosen for you “accordingly”. Like a kitchen set of toys are for girls, whereas a race car or a toy gun are for the boys. Material or Tangible things imposed certain sexual energy and so did your hobbies. In this present day and age where you have a choice of 58 Gender options for Facebook users, I do not think it is wise to assign a gender theme for anything. I think it really limits the human experience when you segregate a human thought process. And the irony is that segregating ourselves from another is also a part of human nature. We consciously or unconsciously segregate anyone or anything that do not conform to our view of life.

I am the middle child. I have a sister who is 3 years older than me and a brother who is 6 years younger. Often, I wonder about how different my personality would be if I had an elder brother or met/read different people than I did for that matter. It was more easier to make friends with girls than with boys when I was young and I honestly think it was so because I had a sister as my elder sibling. Thinking about it now, my sister was my first friend. I remember spending a lot of time with her and her friends playing childhood games that were considered to be more feminine. My friendship with her obviously grew thinner as I identified myself to be a “man” as I grew older. This is not to say that my bond with her diminished but rather a choice of identity dissociate you from sharing certain things with the assumption that she would not understand as we are not the same. But the feeling of not being the same continued even with my male friends. I could see that the way I thought and the way they thought were different. I was very sensitive compared to my friends and yes, I am suggesting that maybe I was sensitive because I spent a lot of time with my sister. I am buying into the generalization that woman are more sensitive than man but I do not agree with the negative connotation of being sensitive. Rather it is my belief that a sensitive person has more potential to display empathy than an insensitive one.

The general idea of making friends is associated with your gender. And in my personal opinion and experience, you pick up habits of people you hang out with, which eventually helps us form a sense of identity. Identity once formed is very difficult to change and often times we have trouble settling into our own sense of identity. It was a very uneasy feeling hanging out with the boys during my middle school. I was easily intimidated by other boys and any sort of confrontation would send me crying in a corner. I would like to take my time here and thank two friends of mine from middle school who stood up for me when they saw me get bullied- Ngawang Chogyal & Ugyen Chophel (Ugyen is no longer with us but I will always remember him for the kindness he showed me that day). Boys are a tough crowd. There are always some daring instructions from your friends that will prove to them that you are a man. So much importance was given to whether or not you have lost your virginity. The size of my genitals determined if I was worthy to be called a man. The thought has been drilled so much into my head that I have been unable to establish any physical/romantic relationship with a woman outside of an Asian Ethnic background.

I think I might have enjoyed the company of my female friends more in middle school because there were no daring instructions. I did not need to be a man. Of course the amount of time I spent with them diminished in high school as stereo typical thought of a male hanging out with females if not sexually involved were considered a “Hermaphrodite”. It is really sad to realize that we are often compelled to choose one thing over another due to societal norms and fear of banishment from people you’re not even sure cares about you. And that fear is in abundance when you are a kid who desperately want to belong.

I remember one day when I was 12 or 13 years Old- my classmates and I went on a Hiking trip to Dodeydrak Monastery which has an elevation of approximately 2700 ft. On our way down I might have caught altitude sickness. I had a throbbing headache and it was becoming quite impossible for me to walk. This part of my memory is a little hazy but I might have asked my friends(boys) to go on ahead without me since I wanted to lie down on the grass for a bit until I felt better. A friend might have stayed with me, I don’t remember correctly. Not long after my body had laid on the grass of a tiny slope, I heard a group of people climb down. They were my female classmates who had joined forces to take on the challenge of the hike. Realizing that I wasn’t feeling well, Sonam Zam(A born Leader) took it upon herself to take care of me. Her nurturing love and affection immediately struck the chords of deep gratitude and appreciation that I started to cry uncontrollably. Lets just say that I was really glad not having told to take it like a champ. I often wish now a days if I could only cry like that 12 year old boy upon feeling deep emotions in front of anybody. Tears have great significance and it really is a shame not being able to shed it in front of your significant people. Alas, I have been fully marinated in the sauce of being a man.

As with most countries in the world, male chauvinist attitude was observable in my country as well. The pep talk given to you by your elders and friends are quite different depending on your gender. “Why are you crying like a Girl?” “You’re a boy, Man Up!” “Why are you so naughty like a boy? Behave like a good girl.” Behaving like a good girl usually meant cleaning the house, cooking in the kitchen and doing all kinds of chores. It was not surprising that Mothers and Grandmothers back in the day would actually advocate the thought of woman belonging in the kitchen. And I don’t blame them — Modern education was introduced in Bhutan only in the 1960s. Main source of family income was the farming sector and animal husbandry. Family wealth was measured in how much of a farming land and cows and sheep you owned. Children in those days were conceived for labor and delivering a baby boy meant fortune as men were more favorable in hard manual labor. As time progressed, modern education provided different means of income. Villagers flocked to the city chasing dreams of a luxury life in a comfortable work environment of a desk and a computer. Although times have changed, house hold work did not and neither did the thought of woman taking care of it until now. Looking back at those days, I feel sorry for my sister. She did her best to be the “good” girl while I was allowed to be the naughty boy. She was basically getting trained to be a good housekeeper if not a good housewife. She has ironically become the head of household as I observe her to be the dominant in her relationship with my brother-in-law — they have two beautiful boys together. She gives young woman in our family advices she received when she was young but I wonder if those advices are relevant in this day and age. As much as I agree that her upbringing produced a fruitful life, the same upbringing is a huge topic of debate and protest in the west who influence the east. With the level of access to information now than in the 90s, imposing a role according to gender could backfire. House hold chores now should be taught as an art of self sustenance rather than a gender specific task.

Much of my life in my twenties has been a journey of self awareness. Learning about who I am and finding out the source of values that I define myself with. It is a constant journey of self improvement on a conscious level mixed with a lot of self acceptance that not everyone will understand who I am and I them and that is okay. No body is right or wrong in this world. We are all victims of hoping for gain and fear of loss, Hoping for pleasure and fear of pain, Hoping for fame and fearing insignificance And hoping for praise and fear of blame. Here is to an aspiration that sentient beings and myself shed all sort of beliefs about oneself — to find an inner layer within, untainted by cultural identities.