I am envisioning the glorious day of January 11, 2021. Dressed in a neat formal shirt and chinos with fancy RM Williams boots, a sleek Littmann Classic III around my neck, a beeping pager, and a personalised Parker pen engraved with the text ‘Dr Khanal’ in my pocket; I will be ready for duty with the General Surgery team at 6 am; excited and anxious.

Behind that rosy picture, however, will swell a sea of emotions. I will feel privileged caring for my sick and vulnerable patients. I will question my competence and feel the burden of my responsibility. I will remember the pride of my family and friends who supported me on my long and arduous journey.

In 1992 I was a growing foetus unbeknownst to my 23-year-old mother Naina and my father Nila, already parents to my two older brothers Chida and Dilli; they faced an agonizing decision. They had to decide whether to stay in Bhutan while fearing torture, imprisonment and possibly death at the hands of its cruel autocratic ruler King Jigme Singye Wangchuck, or flee their beloved country seeking asylum. Like many others, they didn’t have a choice.

My family took a dangerous journey to Nepal, where they were declared refugees, and sheltered in a makeshift bamboo hut with a mud floor in Beldangi II refugee camp in eastern Nepal. There they relied on the mercy of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) and their partner organisations for shelter, protection, and survival. My fate was sealed before I was even born.

Among the memories of my 16-year ordeal in the refugee camp, I remember visits to the basic healthcare unit (BHU). These small health centres were set up by the UNHCR and staffed by fellow Bhutanese who had received three months of medical training. I admired the skills of the health assistants and their fancy medical tools such as the mercury thermometer.

At the BHU and in the camps, I would see all kinds of sick people, young and old, many dying or dead. However, as a child, I didn’t quite grasp the bleak nature of my surroundings. 

I didn’t know anything beyond the confines of the refugee camp. The camp was my world, and I was happy and vigorous, but also vigilant of dangers around me.

My parents raised me with love and care. They portrayed optimism and hope despite their inner sufferings of separation, grief, and homelessness. They were resilient and resourceful in the face of adversity. They dreamed of repatriating back to Bhutan and a reunion with family members, their farmland, and the animals that were left behind.

As a teenager, I began to understand my plight. I saw malnourished children, witnessed the loss of life through the lack of healthcare, violence against women and children, and suicide. I began to connect some dots, and I felt helpless. Those dark experiences provided the motivation and the audacity to dream the impossible. I decided that, should the opportunity of a formal education ever arise, I would try to become a doctor.

After efforts for repatriation failed, the UNHCR unveiled third-country resettlement as a solution to the refugee crisis. My parents made a bold decision to accept resettlement to Australia in quest of a better future for their children.

In September 2009, I arrived in a generous Australia and the border town of Albury, New South Wales became my new home. That day enabled me to work on my dream.  

The journey since resettling in Australia has not been easy. There were significant initial language, financial, social and acculturation challenges. Health issues within my family made me feel helpless at times, but they also provided the motivation to persevere. Luckily, we had caring people looking after us.

My parents enrolled me at Murray High School (MHS). I was generally a happy chap there, but I was also confused, lost and outside of my comfort zone. I was loved by most and bullied by some. Deep inside I knew it was my only chance at life, and I had to make the most of it.

I worked diligently at school. My teachers and fellow students were interested in my story, and they provided the holistic help I needed to succeed. I worked multiple jobs to help my family financially during my high school years. I was chuffed to have a pushbike to go to work, to ride around town, and to the council library to access an hour of free internet.

Life was almost perfect, except when I had to carry my punctured/flat bike at nights from work, or when people yelled at me for wearing the Bombers T-shirt donated by the Vinnies. I never understood why people got mad at me until someone explained some years later how much the Essendon Football Club was hated by some locals. Bloody Vinnies.

I promise I have never worn that T-shirt since.

When I was named the dux of the year at the end of year 12, two years after enrolling at MHS, it gave me a glimmer of hope about achieving my childhood dream.

I moved away from home for the first-time in February 2012 to study at the Australian National University (ANU). It was challenging. Suddenly, I found myself among the brightest students in the country, many of whom had come from very privileged backgrounds.

After completing the Bachelor of Medical Science from ANU in 2014 I returned home, volunteering in leadership roles within the Bhutanese and the local community and working at MHS as a teacher’s aide helping students from refugee and migrant backgrounds.

In 2015, I became an Australian citizen, and some of my colleagues taught me how to do a ‘Shoey’. Perhaps it was that brave performance more than my volunteer work that led to the Albury City Young Citizen of the Year award in 2016. I felt I truly belonged.

When not chucking pies at the local cricket club, or ‘going to the Bonnie Doon’ for a night in a swag, I was preparing applications for admission to graduate medical school – a long, complicated, and highly competitive process. It took a couple of attempts, but in 2016, I struck gold, and I was accepted into the MD program at the University of Wollongong.

I moved away from home for the second time in 2017. Medical school was a long, tiring, and challenging journey. It often tested my patience and strength, but I stayed motivated. I kept reminding myself of the ultimate reward.

At medical school, I often linked the symptoms and illnesses I had seen in the camps to diagnoses and prognoses I was learning. I also learnt how social determinants including refugee trauma, environment and living conditions, access to food, education and healthcare, and socio-economic status affects health.

I connected more dots. My childhood became vivid, and memories sharper. This time I didn’t feel helpless though. I felt empowered by the power of education and knowledge, and I started dreaming of my future as a doctor.

During my final year of medical school, I conducted research on mental health of fellow Bhutanese youth from a refugee background in Australia. The findings were concerning but not surprising. I felt a strong sense of responsibility and urgency for intervention.

When I passed my final exams, I was relieved but not overwhelmed with joy. I felt the weight of my new responsibility. That same day I wrote a three-page document outlining my short term, mid-term, and long-term goals.

My graduation as a doctor vindicated my parent’s bold decision to resettle. It helped them heal the scars of their traumatic past, and somewhat relieved their grief of separation from their family and home.

When my fellow resettled Bhutanese learnt of my graduation as a doctor, I received messages from acquaintances and strangers around the globe who felt that my success was a personal victory for them. Today, I want to recognise all those who were ahead of me and who might have had similar dreams and hopes, and goals they were not able to realise.

I might be one of the first few among hundreds of thousands of resettled former Bhutanese refugees to become a doctor in the West, but I certainly won’t be the last, and I hope to inspire and support many others in their pursuit of this incredible dream. There are numerous stories of people, who, like myself, make the most of opportunities that are hard to come by. Tragically, millions of similar dreams never see the light of the day.

I couldn’t have gotten this far without the blessings and support of my parents, family and friends, and the wisdom imparted by all my patients, fellow students, and teachers from both the refugee camp and Australia. I am indebted to all of them. I am also grateful for the generosity of the UNHCR and the Australian people. I hope to repay that debt by being a kind, caring and empathetic doctor.  

In addition to advancing my medical career, I intend to give back to my global Bhutanese community and my local community in Australia. I want to contribute towards improving health literacy and mental health of my people, and I want to help address the social inequalities and injustice in health present in modern Australia.

I could have died in the refugee camp like many fellow children, or lost my way along my difficult journey, but I persevered choosing optimism and hope and keeping my eyes open for new opportunities. I failed, learnt, and marched on. I learnt to be kind, resilient and grateful, and I found meaning in life through human struggles, hardships, and sufferings.

As I start a new chapter as a doctor, I have many more dreams and hopes, including making society a fairer and more just place for everyone and helping make the dreams of many others less fortunate a reality.

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Dr Ram C. Khanal, MD, is a new medical graduate based in Albury, New South Wales, Australia, and is commencing work as a Junior Medical Officer with Albury Wodonga Health, Australia.

I am a fan of thrill rides. I have been on the front seats of New England’s tallest and fastest – Bizzaro, Superman, Goliath, and I’ve braved the sling-shot at Daytona Beach, Florida. However, never again do I want to experience the rollercoaster of emotions like that in 2020. As New Year’s Eve approaches, I have been reflecting on the events of 2020 and considering what could lie ahead.

Forget flying cars. In its 1951 issue, the Popular Mechanics magazine predicted that every family in the 21st century would own at least one personal helicopter. I am still waiting for my delivery. What this year did deliver was the pandemic and along with it social distancing, isolation, unemployment, travel bans, the closing of educational institutions, gyms and other outdoor activities. As a result, heart disease and depression are the world’s top health issues as predicted by Harvard School of Public Health and the World Health Organization in 1996. 

There are some positive hopes from 2020. COVID-19 vaccines have been approved and are now being distributed and produced on a massive scale. Millions of frontline workers continue to serve selflessly to save lives around the world. 

For the first time in my almost 10 years living in the U.S., I observed hundreds of stars in the night sky from within the city. Perhaps this was due to lower light pollution as fewer vehicles are on the streets and the suspension of outdoor activities. I had not seen so many since leaving Nepal. 

With traffic and travel scaled back drastically on a global scale, carbon emissions dropped by a record 7% – they will probably bounce back in 2021 but it is an indication of our impact on the world. President-elect Joe Biden has committed to a $2 trillion climate plan putting the U.S. back on track to fight climate change. Additionally, we, humans, took outstanding initiatives to try to save our planet.. More than two million people in India helped plant 220 million trees in a single day and major companies around the world joined the pledge to fight climate change.

Astronauts were launched into orbit from the U.S. soil after nine years and SpaceX successfully tested its reusable launch system. As a space enthusiast, this is exciting for me personally.

From big and small donations to the foregoing of rents by landlords, many  banded together to help each other. Within the Bhutanese-Nepali-American community, Bhutanese Response Assistance Volunteer Effort projects, with heavy involvement of youths, in multiple cities and states is a good example.

The Black Lives Matter movement swept across the globe and shook the rotted pillars of societies that invigorate discrimination based on color and race. It is sad that such movements are still necessary in the 21st century, but they are welcome nonetheless. Signs of progress are being displayed as the U.S. voted its first female vice president who is also the first African American and first Asian American to serve in that role.

The work from home rate increased to 42% without harming productivity in the United States, proving that physical boundaries need not impede human sustainability, innovation, and connectivity. The effect of this post-pandemic, on real estate, transportation, the hospitality industries and the economy overall is a discussion for another time.

The abnormal conditions of 2020 did not stop youth around the world in their pursuit of education. Many have started  virtual community empowerment projects, advocated for various issues, and made the voice of the younger generations known to the world.

Despite the good news of 2020, nothing can compensate for  the mass loss of lives to the pandemic. The death toll surpassed 302,000 in the US alone and 1.75 million globally. The number of worldwide cases has passed 80 million. Even the president of the most powerful country was not spared, evidence that health threats do not discriminate between color, gender, race or nationality.

However, even in such a time of peril, we saw discrimination in access to healthcare. Access to adequate care and a healthy life should be the fundamental right of every human being. Possibly an indicator for lawmakers around the world to pursue universal health care? 

Even non-COVID related health issues have taken the lives of a few I knew personally too soon and shaken me, my family and the community. If there is one thing the year 2020 is a reminder of, at least to me personally, it’s that there is nothing more valuable than one’s health. 

None of us want what unfolded in 2020 to be repeated but there is plenty to learn from it. Now, someone recently reminded me that anguishing about the past is the cause of grief. But I believe reflecting is different. It is an analysis of the past to shape the actions we must take in the present, not the future, because pondering about the future might also lead to anxiety. 

The year 2020 and the events that took place will be a highlight in the history books. The cause, spread, and handling of the pandemic along with its short and long term effects will surely be researched and debated upon. But what we do in the present is what matters for us. So let’s make sure we take thoughtful actions going forward and let that drive our future.

I wish you and your family a happy, healthy, and prosperous 2021.

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The author is one of the section editors in this news site. 

All of humanity has been confused by the conflicting, unfolding and sometimes misleading messages regarding the pandemic–including my community, Bhutanese refugees who have resettled in America. Among some facets of the diaspora, language and educational barriers have made fear and anxiety more acute.

As a former Bhutanese refugee myself, I decided to focus my energies on a project to help inform the community and explain Covid and its implications in terms Bhutanese could understand.

I am one of the founders and editors of the Bhutan News Service (BNS), a media organization run by and for Bhutanese refugees since the mid-2000. The service was born in a refugee camp in Nepal, but shut down in January 2020 mainly due to lack of volunteers.

In the early days of the spread of the virus, when the BNS website was inactive, public health professionals and refugee stakeholders started contacting me in order to share information via the BNS Facebook page. That was one of the moments when I realized how important an ethnic-media outlet can be.

Inspired by the possibilities, I worked in the evenings and weekends to build a team dedicated to delivering science-based information to the public. Offers of help streamed in from people of all ages and professions.

By October, after months of virtual brainstorming and journalism training, the BNS was relaunched. Currently, we have 20-plus volunteers creating and publishing content for the site. We’ve published essays about the importance of wearing masks, staying fit during quarantine, the impact of COVID-19 on recent college graduates, as well as how to safely celebrate our important holidays–typically built around family gatherings and Hindu festivals–Dashain and Tihar.

Many of our volunteers, like me, have full-time jobs and families. Some attend college full-time. Some had already met and knew each other, others were new acquaintances. Yet, we soon became like a (virtual) family dedicated to sharing our experiences and important information in the service of protecting not just our community but far beyond. It was also fascinating to see how some volunteers continued working virtually even while they were quarantining after testing positive for COVID-19.

Aside from finding a pool of volunteers from within the community, we were also able to bring onboard two England-based media experts in the team to mentor and assist us. With everyone’s contribution, BNS was reborn.

Seeing the value that the relaunched BNS has had on those seeking reliable news and information has been inspiring. And working with so many volunteers whose only aim is the dissemination of facts to an information-poor audience makes me realize that despite the setback of the virus, new doors have opened providing a tremendous opportunity to inform the public debate, and, hopefully, in doing so, save lives.

The BNS website has had almost 170,000 hits since its re-launch on October 1. We average about 2,000 unique visitors a month. That puts BNS in a unique spot. And with the board and leadership involvement in the future strategic planning process, I am confident that we will now continue to provide this unique and valuable communications–and even, quite possibly, grow.

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The author is Executive Editor of BNS — and this story was originally published by Smithsonian — National Museum of American History.