Disclaimer: Opinion is personal, journey is personal. Not intended to piss you or your forefathers.
While we were hitting our puberty, it was in our syllabus the Buddhist philosophies from masters and stories of Azhi Nangsa and Kandru Drowa Zangmo. With time, it was my own personal journey to find answers and sort out my confusion. Being raised in border town of Phuentsholing, and that one-month vacation in Gomtu, whereby I was exposed to missionaries, I realized how strong faiths of people were. Moments ago, we were just bunch of three boys, who wanted to kill ducks and pigeons for the sake of testing our slingshot skills, and while we were up on the hills, we met a local priest. He then took three of us to the eldest boy’s home, there he started with his preaching and talks, I would not understand for ages. I was only nine perhaps, and within moment, a steel bowl was kept in front of the eldest boy. The priest said some prayers in Nepali language, pour water on his head which dropped on the bowl. He was happy, and later when his sisters and mother came, he announced happily that he too had given Wa-chan (promise I thought).