Condom Man

For a small country, Bhutan is quite progressive in its approach to fighting AIDS and HIV. There are many posters picturing smiling young people holding on condoms, the government gives away free condoms through hospitals, there is sex education in high school (albeit when you have sex and stay over for breakfast, you're considered married). Last year we had a public health program at the resort, featuring a doctor showing staff how to put a condom on a wooden phallus, and how to put a female condom. Believe it or not, that was everybody's first time seeing it.

With a population of 700,000 people, the Bhutanese government claims there are 300 people living with AIDS and/or HIV. Because of its mostly uneducated population, some people would treat these people in disgust or indifference, so the government has a long way to go to show that HIV can be cured, and these people have feelings, hopes, and aspirations.

On the way back home, I couldnt believe my eyes when I saw this car. While the intention is pure, imagine seeing one in the US, let alone in Indonesia.

Home sweet home

Dad, Dini, me

Dini, Mom (seeing me off at CGK)

Me, Mom, Dad

Auntie (Metut), Me, and cousin Pasek at his 'warung'

This is the reason why I went home last April.

If you think Jakarta's airport is the worst in South East Asia...

Eat your heart out, Singapore. We're number 6.

Amongst prayer flags...

While browsing for some pictures to delete from the computer, I came across this one, taken while we were coming down from a five-hour hike three weeks ago. The view is amazing, the hike was rewarding, and I was glad everybody posed the way I wanted them to. From left to right: Sonam Rinzin, Chime Lhamo(seated), Karma Yuden (standing), Karma Choki, and Purna Phuyel.

Just a little under 38

"Dear Dani, Happy Birthday. Just a little something while using up some old stuff off the freezer. Andrea."

That was a note I got from the pastry chef, along with an orange cake covered with sugar and some M&M's. I thought, well, I am glad I got some leftover crap from the fridge.

Each year, my birthday celebration is never big or small. Always a small gathering of friends this past 13 years. Never at home with families, unfortunately. This year, my efforts to return home for a week early March was dampened by the arrival of a new boss and the preparation of busy season. Not that I'm complaining. Being an interim boss gives me valuable lessons on a lot of things I would've done only on the surface: expenses, staffing, maintenance, things like that. And celebrating birthday with people I care about is more fun than doing it alone.

For me, each year my birthday gets weirder and weider as I end up in far flung places. Good thing is, wherever I am, there are always Indonesians to share cake with, to cook Indonesian food for me, and to reminiscence old Jakarta. Sounds like I'm turning 70.

In Bhutan, people greet your birthday with, "Happy Many Returns of the Day", as some of the writings on my birthday card say. Never heard of it before, but I'm sure it adds up my English-Bhutanese vocabulary.

Meanwhile on the other side of Paro town, some Indo friends working for a competitor threw a dinner party for me, complete with a little cake (too little for six of us) and a gho as present. I've always wanted to buy a gho myself, but they bought one with the kera (belt) and tego (inner shirt). It was really a surprise for me, not because it must have been a lot of money for them to shell out, but also the thought of giving me a complete set. Just the right time for Paro festival next week.

Thanks Mom and Dad, for bringing me to this world, a long, long time ago.

Let it snow

Finally, after three years of winter drought, Paro got its share of snow. Around seven inches at the lodge, no less. Nobody was prepared, so some cars didnt get up the small little hill we had on the back of the lodge. The staff shuttle driver refused to drive the 20-pass. bus because he was afraid the bus would slip off the road. As soon as I saw a sliver of snow on the ground and the snow wasn't even ready to stop falling, I put on my jeans (I sound like Keith Urban - so lame), ten-year old boots, and was itching to shovel some snow.

In the meantime, the yard around my apartment was covered in more than an ankle high snow. Below is the picture of where I live; three-storey building with four rooms. I live on the second floor (you can see the door and my kitchen window), with three bedrooms and two baths all for myself. Good thing the power didnt go out and the satellite TV worked, so I still got the heaters going and TV blazing in the living room. Oh I wish it was Christmas. Or I was I was in Punakha where it's warm.

Bhutanese are more premiscuous as think

They even do it in cars! I saw this on the engineering paperwork I signed the other day. I couldn't help but whipped out my camera and took a picture of it.