Sometimes I forget I am in Bangladesh, other times it is excruciatingly obvious

Yesterday I was jetting around Mymemsingh on a rickshaw with friend and tutor, Liza. We were on our way to buy fabric paint and "blocks" (wooden carved stamps for fabric or paper) from Gargina Par, the "downtown market" of mymenshing, because I have decided to become a "blocker" as they say here. I am pretty excited to take up this hobby and paint my salwar kameez however I decide. I think I will also paint some wall hangings too, for when I am at the mission. Anyway,I was chatting away with Liza, as we were in a rickshaw jam and suddenly felt, more than usual the 49 pairs of eyes staring. Everyone and their mother, brother and best friends were looking at me, pointing saying "hi shista" (sister) and doing a rubber neck to get a glimpse of me. That was incident # 1 that made me realize I am white, a foreigner and still in the Banglarang.

Incident #2: We were at the paint shop and Liza had to fight off the questions with a stick. A woman engaged her in a long conversation about where I was from, what I was doing here, what my home country is, what my NAME is etc etc. And, this woman could have asked me herself b/c I understood all of it. I felt bad for Liza--she gets so much annoying attention when she's out with me. I know for sure that I got a better deal on the fabric paint b/c she was with me...the shopkeepers usually will charge more if it is just me by myself. I am learning what things should cost, so that is helping and I am definately learning how to assert myself.

Incident #3: I was taking rickshaw back to the MCC office and looked to my left. A Bengali version of FABIO was coming down the road, singing on the back of a truck. His hair was long and flowing, gold sunglasses catching the sun. He had 3 other band members, accompanying his vocals that were being broadcast via microphone and loudspeaker. (Did anyone ask him to come down the street? who wants to listen? Everyone was just mulling around like this happens everyday and is no big deal.) I chuckled to myself, then forgot about it.

Incident #4: 5 minutes after Fabio's grand entrance into my life. I was almost to the MCC office when I looked to my right and a whole, newly slaughtered cow was in a parking garage and blood was running down the pavement to the road. There were several men gathered around with large knives cutting it up very precisely. About an hour later as I walked by, the whole thing was cubed and only the head was staring back at me.

Incident #5: "Hey Canada!" was thrown my way by a little girl who was beckoning all her friends to come outside and take a look at the monkey. (er, um ME). I must have told her once I was from Canada. (I tell people I am from Canada alot b/c they are not waging a war on terror.) I kept walking....as ususal

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Reba got a thermometer. Now we know how hot it actually IS here. (this could be a highly annoying thing if we overuse it, but for now it is fun) it was 92 in her house when she got home yesterday and 88 when she went to bed. And the current was out, so no fans...sooo hot, too hot for sleeping.....

Enough talk about being the "other"---
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Next week I get to go to the Sundarbans. So excited. Maybe I will see a Bengal tiger. The Sundarbans are the islands to the south, on the Bay of Bengal. We have 25 expats signed up and are getting a big boat to cruise around on for a couple of days. the best part? we will be out in the middle of NOWHERE...it will be quiet, there will be no horns honking, no rickshaw bells chiming; we will eat good food, and we will laugh and it will be oh so good.