Yesterday, I spent all afternoon baking chocolate cakes for the aspirant sisters/my student's farewell tea party. Let me tell you a little bit about baking in Bangladesh.
a.) nobody does it.
b.)ovens are scarce--they use electricity, something that we don't always have here.
c.)even if they do bake and have an oven, they do it in the morning; it's much too hot in the afternoon to be stuck in a hot kitchen.
of course, being the procrastinator that I can be, but try not to be, I decided to bake in the middle of the afternoon, 3 hours before the party. Just as I was beginning to put all the ingredients into the bowl, and was figuring out the correct measurements for quadrupling the recipe (there are a lot of people at the mission), the power goes out. This poses 2 problems. 1.) no electricity for the oven. and 2.) no fans which makes it unbearably hot with no air circulation (and makes me start sweating immediately.) I ignore 1. and 2. and I keep mixing the ingredients, saying a prayer that the power will come back in time for me to get these cakes in the oven. With the help of Sister Supina and the watchful eyes of 3 other sisters who asked all sorts of questions about baking, I managed to mix all the ingredients into a huge bowl, and it looked and tasted like chocolate cake batter. (Grandma, you'd be proud. (I am really looking forward to your choc. cake in a couple months) Just as we were finished mixing, the power came back, as I was hoping it would. The oven is small and only one cake can fit in it at a time, so I put the biggest one in and guessed how much time it will need as well as the temp. because it was in Celcius.
Skip ahead 3 hours. The cakes are all done, look delicious, the table's set and all my students and all the sisters have gathered to say goodbye. We ate and chatted. Apparently chocolate cake is a very special food that they almost never eat, so I chose the right one to bake. Everyone marveled at how delicious it was. I breathed a sigh of relief that it all worked out, and promised that I would teach Sister Agnes how to bake one before I leave.
As we are getting towards the end of the party it is time to give speeches. This is something that I have gotten used to at gatherings and parties. People always nominate other people to either a.)sing a song or b.) give a speech. Several of the sisters gave speeches. Then of course, I as the teacher was asked to say a few words. Almost immediately I started to get all teary--Sister Rosie was laughing b/c I was the 3rd person to start crying in the last 17 minutes. I pulled it together and told the Sisters and my students that I would miss them a lot and that though I was their teacher I was also their student and they taught me about how to show hospitality and what kindness looks like. I told the Sisters that they were lucky to continue to have relationships with my students, as I was leaving soon and would no longer be able to see them regularly. I thanked them for their hard work and also told them not to forget how to use the present continuous tense, which made everyone laugh nervously--b/c I am almost sure that they never learned it in the first place.
To round out the time, and to make it ceremonial, Sister Florence gave each aspirant sister a coconut shell with oil and a wick. I had taught them the song "Give me oil in my lamp" so as I lit the student's wicks we sang that song. (side note: I taught them the pentecostal version which exclaims, "hallelujah!" at every possible second which made it slightly awkward and funny).
We made our way, candles in hand to the chapel, and put the candles on the altar. Then we said the Lord's Prayer together.
----
this morning as the sun and humidity were rising, all the sisters and I waved good bye to them.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
At Holy Family Primary School
Me, feeling like a GIANT in the sea of little children. That is one of my favorite salwar kameez...i still hate the orna.
the little girl on my direct left (shaved head) invited me over to her house on sunday! I will go with one of the sisters to see her and meet her family. They were so excited to have their picture taken.
Kids are Cute and Wiggly..and some thoughts about education
The last couple of mornings I've visited my friends, Sister Rosie and Sister Meeta's classrooms and told their classes a bit about myself and about the US. It's been fun. Kids everywhere are so wiggly and squirmy and darn cute. They had a bazillion questions for me. Things from my favorite food to how I like Bangladesh to if my brother was younger or older than me. The Mission school is right on the Convent Campus, and kids from the nearby neighborhood attend the school. It is hard to get into this school, and is known for being one of the best in Mymensingh. Each classroom has over 70 kids in them, and one teacher. It's the end of the year so the kids are taking their tests. Each of them have one piece of paper, a pencil and a small sheet of paper with the test questions on it. They sit crammed together on benches and desks. My own education is something that I've definately taken for granted. I grew up going to Christian schools and went to a really good College. Education was accessible, and I knew that each year I would go to a new grade, my parents would support me and eventually would get a degree if I did all the needed work. Not only that, but I got a chance to learn music, be on sports teams, learn computer skills, as well as take fun classes at Calvin like canoeing... Simple, right? From that education, I now know how to ask questions and how to learn on my own and how to think critically and independently. Those were highly valued qualities of my Western education. Bangladesh's educational system relies heavily on memorization and does not encourage critical thinking. They study and take tests. The parents choose what career their child will have.
It has been a challenge to teach my classes, using how I was taught, and how I like to learn--self directed and participatory, while taking into consideration how they are accustomed to learning--when their values of showing respect for the teacher and not talking in class are higher than I am used to. (it was really nice not to have ANY behavior problems!) It took a long time to draw them out and get them to think things through and feel comfortable enough to ask and answer questions. I gave a test a couple of days ago and a few students did not understand one section, but instead of asking, they just left the entire section blank! I even asked if there were questions....It is hard not to place a judgement on the Bengali educational system. I do think it's important to know how to think and make choices...and do not think memorizing and taking tests are the best ways to teach or learn. But then am I imposing my Western ideas upon Eastern students? Is that right? And just because my country of US is "developed" and Bangladesh is "developing" does that make one way better than the other? I try to keep an open mind about most things here, but lately I am finding myself not only appreciating but agreeing with the structural ways I grew up and I think it is more than familiarity and comfort... (of course there are many things that bengalis do well and better than americans, i will write about that later perhaps.)
It has been a challenge to teach my classes, using how I was taught, and how I like to learn--self directed and participatory, while taking into consideration how they are accustomed to learning--when their values of showing respect for the teacher and not talking in class are higher than I am used to. (it was really nice not to have ANY behavior problems!) It took a long time to draw them out and get them to think things through and feel comfortable enough to ask and answer questions. I gave a test a couple of days ago and a few students did not understand one section, but instead of asking, they just left the entire section blank! I even asked if there were questions....It is hard not to place a judgement on the Bengali educational system. I do think it's important to know how to think and make choices...and do not think memorizing and taking tests are the best ways to teach or learn. But then am I imposing my Western ideas upon Eastern students? Is that right? And just because my country of US is "developed" and Bangladesh is "developing" does that make one way better than the other? I try to keep an open mind about most things here, but lately I am finding myself not only appreciating but agreeing with the structural ways I grew up and I think it is more than familiarity and comfort... (of course there are many things that bengalis do well and better than americans, i will write about that later perhaps.)
Sunday, May 27, 2007
A day in my life....
Life at the Mission is peaceful and slow moving. Yesterday, I woke up at 5:45am, naturally. (yes, for those of you who know me well, this is a small miracle, but I have been waking up cheerfully before 6am for the last couple of months and can't sleep anymore) I decided to go running around the convent. They have a small field area near the school. The whole convent is walled off and they have many different cement buildings built around the 1930s. It's a really beautiful campus with many flowers, palm trees and gardens.
I wear running pants (even though it is like 82 degrees in the mornings) and an old kameze top that comes to my knees, but no orna--the scarf that covers my chest for modesty's sake--because only women are in the convent. I also listen to my mp3 player while running. I don't really like using it b/c all the albums are mixed up. Somehow all the songs got loaded in alphabetical order. But if you think of it sort of like a music quiz show, and try to name the artist real fast, then it's alright. Anyways. I was running around in circles, listening to music, Alicia Keys at this point I believe, and noticed something out of the corner of my eye. Two little girls from the orphanage were up, and were running 30 feet behind me, giggling to eachother. I motioned for them to come closer, and the three of us ran together. They took turns listening to my music as well. Once we all were sufficiently sweaty, I led some goofy stretching exercises....I guess I'll never be rid of my camp roger experience or recreation major. Then we walked back to the convent for breakfast.
I ate my normal breakfast of Chapati and egg. Drank good coffee from Thailand with my own special filtering system. The sisters always remark, "oh, I see you are cooking your coffee again." I was just finishing my 4th glass of water, when a priest walked in an announced, "this is my last coffee time with the sisters before leaving for America!" He had gotten a visa and was leaving for America, New Jersey, specifically, in four days. He was giddy with excitement. I sat down with him and chatted about what it was like to live in America. He had all sorts of questions about funerals, since he was going to be in charge of burying people, among other things at his parish. It was fun to chat with him about my own culture. I forgot just how many questions someone going there for the first time might have. He was concerned about being cold. I told him he would be cold, but just to bring a heavy jacket and he'd be fine. I don't know if he believed me.
I had my normal 9am class with the aspirant sisters. I have been teaching my students many songs this year. I did not really feel like doing work at this point, and they did not feel like doing work, so I taught them two new songs instead. I taught them the O bro where art thou? song, "I went down in the river to pray" as well as "Amazing Grace. " I've attempted to teach them some harmonies this year, but it is very hard to teach Western harmonies to people used to singing Eastern melodies. And since my guitar learning did not take off as I'd like it too, and since I don't have my violin to produce melodies and harmonies here....I have my voice, and my memory to teach with. I can hear the harmonies, but they of course, cannot.... We've really tried though. :)
After class, tea, of course. Lots of gossiping with the sisters who all gather together at 10am for tea. They also eat rice and vegetables at this time. They don't understand why I don't want to eat rice, but mostly, let me just sip my cha...while offering me rice a few times, (bangladeshi hospitality) which I continuously refuse.
Walk to my favorite internet cafe. On the way I buy my usual 7-UP from the same vendor, who sees me and knows what I will buy. Keep walking, wave hello to my tailor on the way.
It's super hot and humid, and for some reason, I decided to wear my long sleeved blue batik top with jeans. I am sweating in seconds. awesome. luckily (?) I can be a sweaty mess and do nothing to myself and everyone still marvels at my beauty and intelligence. I think I will be in for a wake up call once I come back to the States and not everyone thinks I am gorgeous and interesting.
I check email and facebook like a normal internet addict would.
Go back to the Mission for a lovely lunch of Rice and Vegetables. But yesterday we also were still eating my bannanna bread, which was a nice surprise. After lunch, I go upstairs to my room and begin the book "God of Small things." I read for a little while, take a little nap. Go downstairs after a while, and talk with Sister Francis for a bit about Geography. Sister Francis is awesome. She's in her 70s, I'd guess, is funny, smart, and loves learning. Especially about people and places and how to pronounce English words. I chat with her until it's time for my 3pm class.
My 3pm class is with the same students, so we practice our new songs, as well as some older ones. I am amazed at their memories. I give them time to study for the exam I am giving. I ask them some questions in English, to get them to talk a bit, and then to round out one of our last classes together we play "hangman." Not very Pacifist, I know. If you have any alternatives, I'm all ears.
4pm. More tea with all the sisters gathering around the table. They again are eating rice. I am again refusing. Not too politely though, or they will not take me seriously. Some of the sisters are also eating Corn on the Cob. Since I grew up on a vegetable farm, and know my corn on the cob pretty well, I was super excited to have my first ear of the season right then and there. I take my first bite. It tastes like field corn. It's terribly chewy, not sweet, and really hard to chew. (Why did I expect Wiers Farm Corn? I don't know) But of course, I must finish it. By the end, my jaw hurts from chewing it so much. I wish I could give them some actual good sweet soft corn. Uncle John, want to send some seeds over here? :)
After corn on the cob, Sister Francis and I watch some BBC news together. She tells me her nose has diarria and laughs. (She has a runny nose)
Much to my delight my friend Alana, who works for CRWRC calls me and tells me she is in Mymensingh and asks if I have dinner plans. I meet up with her and Reba at Rom III, Mymensingh's little greasy spoon, for some naan and vegetables and curried hard boiled egg. At one point, Alana gets this look of disgust on her face....and tells me a cockroach was just crawling up her leg. SICK. Soon we forget about it though, and continue on with our meal, remarking that it's unusual for 3 Americans to be together. (I forgot to mention that when we walked in the restaurant, they turned on the A/C for us, with out asking if we needed it.) I'm telling you, it's celebrity life over here.
After dinner and ice cream, we decide to go see Alana's flat (rather CRWRC's mymensingh flat), which is near the Mission, where I live. All three of us expertly climb onto the rickshaw. One person has to sit on the top of the seat. Once at her flat, we hear the doorbell ring. I see her neighbor trying to push her way inside, she saw 3 white girls walk in, and presumably wants to know whats up. I see Alana holding firm, saying that now is not a good time....(later after we leave, she tells me the lady stayed for like an hour) It's really hard to be gracious in this place sometimes when people are demanding your attention and friendship.
We chat for a bit until it's nearly 9pm and the current/electricity has gone off. I have to get going since the sisters will soon lock the gate at the top of the convent stairs and I will have to bang on it loudly and wake them all up, if I come back too late. Yes, it has happened a few times and it is embarassing. I use my mobile phone's flashlight to light the the way down Alana's stair well. Only in Bangladesh do mobile phones have little flashlights in them. Very handy-- I use mine all the time.
I take a rickshaw back to the mission, pay the rickshaw wallah 6 taka, which he seems happy about. I go inside, realize the current is off there as well, and so I get ready for bed by candle light. Outside is an impressive heat lightning storm that I watch from in my bed until I fall asleep.
I wear running pants (even though it is like 82 degrees in the mornings) and an old kameze top that comes to my knees, but no orna--the scarf that covers my chest for modesty's sake--because only women are in the convent. I also listen to my mp3 player while running. I don't really like using it b/c all the albums are mixed up. Somehow all the songs got loaded in alphabetical order. But if you think of it sort of like a music quiz show, and try to name the artist real fast, then it's alright. Anyways. I was running around in circles, listening to music, Alicia Keys at this point I believe, and noticed something out of the corner of my eye. Two little girls from the orphanage were up, and were running 30 feet behind me, giggling to eachother. I motioned for them to come closer, and the three of us ran together. They took turns listening to my music as well. Once we all were sufficiently sweaty, I led some goofy stretching exercises....I guess I'll never be rid of my camp roger experience or recreation major. Then we walked back to the convent for breakfast.
I ate my normal breakfast of Chapati and egg. Drank good coffee from Thailand with my own special filtering system. The sisters always remark, "oh, I see you are cooking your coffee again." I was just finishing my 4th glass of water, when a priest walked in an announced, "this is my last coffee time with the sisters before leaving for America!" He had gotten a visa and was leaving for America, New Jersey, specifically, in four days. He was giddy with excitement. I sat down with him and chatted about what it was like to live in America. He had all sorts of questions about funerals, since he was going to be in charge of burying people, among other things at his parish. It was fun to chat with him about my own culture. I forgot just how many questions someone going there for the first time might have. He was concerned about being cold. I told him he would be cold, but just to bring a heavy jacket and he'd be fine. I don't know if he believed me.
I had my normal 9am class with the aspirant sisters. I have been teaching my students many songs this year. I did not really feel like doing work at this point, and they did not feel like doing work, so I taught them two new songs instead. I taught them the O bro where art thou? song, "I went down in the river to pray" as well as "Amazing Grace. " I've attempted to teach them some harmonies this year, but it is very hard to teach Western harmonies to people used to singing Eastern melodies. And since my guitar learning did not take off as I'd like it too, and since I don't have my violin to produce melodies and harmonies here....I have my voice, and my memory to teach with. I can hear the harmonies, but they of course, cannot.... We've really tried though. :)
After class, tea, of course. Lots of gossiping with the sisters who all gather together at 10am for tea. They also eat rice and vegetables at this time. They don't understand why I don't want to eat rice, but mostly, let me just sip my cha...while offering me rice a few times, (bangladeshi hospitality) which I continuously refuse.
Walk to my favorite internet cafe. On the way I buy my usual 7-UP from the same vendor, who sees me and knows what I will buy. Keep walking, wave hello to my tailor on the way.
It's super hot and humid, and for some reason, I decided to wear my long sleeved blue batik top with jeans. I am sweating in seconds. awesome. luckily (?) I can be a sweaty mess and do nothing to myself and everyone still marvels at my beauty and intelligence. I think I will be in for a wake up call once I come back to the States and not everyone thinks I am gorgeous and interesting.
I check email and facebook like a normal internet addict would.
Go back to the Mission for a lovely lunch of Rice and Vegetables. But yesterday we also were still eating my bannanna bread, which was a nice surprise. After lunch, I go upstairs to my room and begin the book "God of Small things." I read for a little while, take a little nap. Go downstairs after a while, and talk with Sister Francis for a bit about Geography. Sister Francis is awesome. She's in her 70s, I'd guess, is funny, smart, and loves learning. Especially about people and places and how to pronounce English words. I chat with her until it's time for my 3pm class.
My 3pm class is with the same students, so we practice our new songs, as well as some older ones. I am amazed at their memories. I give them time to study for the exam I am giving. I ask them some questions in English, to get them to talk a bit, and then to round out one of our last classes together we play "hangman." Not very Pacifist, I know. If you have any alternatives, I'm all ears.
4pm. More tea with all the sisters gathering around the table. They again are eating rice. I am again refusing. Not too politely though, or they will not take me seriously. Some of the sisters are also eating Corn on the Cob. Since I grew up on a vegetable farm, and know my corn on the cob pretty well, I was super excited to have my first ear of the season right then and there. I take my first bite. It tastes like field corn. It's terribly chewy, not sweet, and really hard to chew. (Why did I expect Wiers Farm Corn? I don't know) But of course, I must finish it. By the end, my jaw hurts from chewing it so much. I wish I could give them some actual good sweet soft corn. Uncle John, want to send some seeds over here? :)
After corn on the cob, Sister Francis and I watch some BBC news together. She tells me her nose has diarria and laughs. (She has a runny nose)
Much to my delight my friend Alana, who works for CRWRC calls me and tells me she is in Mymensingh and asks if I have dinner plans. I meet up with her and Reba at Rom III, Mymensingh's little greasy spoon, for some naan and vegetables and curried hard boiled egg. At one point, Alana gets this look of disgust on her face....and tells me a cockroach was just crawling up her leg. SICK. Soon we forget about it though, and continue on with our meal, remarking that it's unusual for 3 Americans to be together. (I forgot to mention that when we walked in the restaurant, they turned on the A/C for us, with out asking if we needed it.) I'm telling you, it's celebrity life over here.
After dinner and ice cream, we decide to go see Alana's flat (rather CRWRC's mymensingh flat), which is near the Mission, where I live. All three of us expertly climb onto the rickshaw. One person has to sit on the top of the seat. Once at her flat, we hear the doorbell ring. I see her neighbor trying to push her way inside, she saw 3 white girls walk in, and presumably wants to know whats up. I see Alana holding firm, saying that now is not a good time....(later after we leave, she tells me the lady stayed for like an hour) It's really hard to be gracious in this place sometimes when people are demanding your attention and friendship.
We chat for a bit until it's nearly 9pm and the current/electricity has gone off. I have to get going since the sisters will soon lock the gate at the top of the convent stairs and I will have to bang on it loudly and wake them all up, if I come back too late. Yes, it has happened a few times and it is embarassing. I use my mobile phone's flashlight to light the the way down Alana's stair well. Only in Bangladesh do mobile phones have little flashlights in them. Very handy-- I use mine all the time.
I take a rickshaw back to the mission, pay the rickshaw wallah 6 taka, which he seems happy about. I go inside, realize the current is off there as well, and so I get ready for bed by candle light. Outside is an impressive heat lightning storm that I watch from in my bed until I fall asleep.
Friday, May 25, 2007
Normal Days are a changing....
Hello everyone in blogger land, I actually wonder who is still reading this....
It's my day off but when my job description is "live and be part of the Holy Family Convent Community" I don't really ever have a day off. But today that means I am not teaching any classes. I recently learned that my favorite students (yes, I do have a favorite class) are leaving next week! I can't believe it. They were not supposed to leave until June 13; But as with most planning in Bangladesh, it always changes. or plans contain the word, "maybe" more than the average North American plans.... in this case, the aspirant sisters, those young women who will one day become sisters/nuns are indeed leaving to go to their villages before they head to Dhaka for 2 years of college. They are by far the best part of my job. I have learned much from them and we've had some ridiculous good times in class, as most of you could imagine. I will miss them.
Today, I am going to make Bananna Bread for the sisters. Kola ruti. They call it cake, which, given the sweet factor, it probably is. Leave it to Americans to call cake, bread. No wonder we are facing an obesity epidemic. but I digress. One thing I really miss is baking and cooking. At the mission we have a cook, Mashie, who does all the cooking for 20 some Sisters, 30 some girls in the orphanage and 10 some other workers who stay at the Mission. Lots of rice and curried veggies. I eat rice and curried veggies twice a day. I also eat about 3 banannas a day. For those of you asking where the protein in my diet is (mom) I eat peanut butter like it's my job, until they decide not to make it for 3 months. Then I don't eat it. For those of you wondering why I am blogging about this and are about to stop reading, I am done talking about food. (but I really miss eating good, non curried vegetables, beans, and whole wheat bread--Maybe you (all?) and I can cook together when I come home--things like black bean quesidillas, bean soup, granola pancakes, spinach lasagne, vegetarian pizza, whole wheat bread...) okay, no more food talk.
I'm hoping that soon I will stop feeling so cynical about Bangladesh. Lately all the small things have been getting to me. Small being: the stupid comments from the men around here, loss of my freedom, eating white rice 2 times a day, the stupid mosquito that somehow got into my mosquito net last night and ate my ankles for a great feast, the heat and humidity....I imagine that once it hits me I am leaving I will start to have romantic notions about Bangladesh again and perhaps will be sad to leave. Who knows, though.
I'm going to have to figure out some new things to do with my time, given that my students are leaving. My other group of students are taking an exam for the next month, so we don't have class currently either. I am thinking about spending my mornings at the L'Arche community. It's a place where 4 boys with mental and physical disabilities live. They are orphans and would otherwise be on the street. In the mornings they have a day care for children with disabilities; Bangladesh has a long way to go in terms of special education and awareness about disabilites in general, but L'arche is amazing and is doing amazing things for the Mymensingh community. It's a good good place to spend time. One other option is helping the Taize Brothers with their english curriculum for their schools. There is another volunteer who is from Germany who asked if I'd like to help her do this, and it sounds like it'd be another good option. There never is a shortage of volunteer work here, that is for sure.
I also just found out that at 6pm most nights, before 7pm prayers, she (caroline, from germany) is teaching Taize songs in English...and I plan to join her and the boys who live in the Taize community to learn more of the songs. I love Taize.
Life here in Bangladesh is very normal now, even a bit boring. I find myself longing for another adventure. I am sure I just need to look a little harder and I will find another rabbit hole to disappear into. What will it take to have an adventure at home after this year? I will think about that when the time comes. As for me, now, it is time for lunch.
PEACE.
Cicely
It's my day off but when my job description is "live and be part of the Holy Family Convent Community" I don't really ever have a day off. But today that means I am not teaching any classes. I recently learned that my favorite students (yes, I do have a favorite class) are leaving next week! I can't believe it. They were not supposed to leave until June 13; But as with most planning in Bangladesh, it always changes. or plans contain the word, "maybe" more than the average North American plans.... in this case, the aspirant sisters, those young women who will one day become sisters/nuns are indeed leaving to go to their villages before they head to Dhaka for 2 years of college. They are by far the best part of my job. I have learned much from them and we've had some ridiculous good times in class, as most of you could imagine. I will miss them.
Today, I am going to make Bananna Bread for the sisters. Kola ruti. They call it cake, which, given the sweet factor, it probably is. Leave it to Americans to call cake, bread. No wonder we are facing an obesity epidemic. but I digress. One thing I really miss is baking and cooking. At the mission we have a cook, Mashie, who does all the cooking for 20 some Sisters, 30 some girls in the orphanage and 10 some other workers who stay at the Mission. Lots of rice and curried veggies. I eat rice and curried veggies twice a day. I also eat about 3 banannas a day. For those of you asking where the protein in my diet is (mom) I eat peanut butter like it's my job, until they decide not to make it for 3 months. Then I don't eat it. For those of you wondering why I am blogging about this and are about to stop reading, I am done talking about food. (but I really miss eating good, non curried vegetables, beans, and whole wheat bread--Maybe you (all?) and I can cook together when I come home--things like black bean quesidillas, bean soup, granola pancakes, spinach lasagne, vegetarian pizza, whole wheat bread...) okay, no more food talk.
I'm hoping that soon I will stop feeling so cynical about Bangladesh. Lately all the small things have been getting to me. Small being: the stupid comments from the men around here, loss of my freedom, eating white rice 2 times a day, the stupid mosquito that somehow got into my mosquito net last night and ate my ankles for a great feast, the heat and humidity....I imagine that once it hits me I am leaving I will start to have romantic notions about Bangladesh again and perhaps will be sad to leave. Who knows, though.
I'm going to have to figure out some new things to do with my time, given that my students are leaving. My other group of students are taking an exam for the next month, so we don't have class currently either. I am thinking about spending my mornings at the L'Arche community. It's a place where 4 boys with mental and physical disabilities live. They are orphans and would otherwise be on the street. In the mornings they have a day care for children with disabilities; Bangladesh has a long way to go in terms of special education and awareness about disabilites in general, but L'arche is amazing and is doing amazing things for the Mymensingh community. It's a good good place to spend time. One other option is helping the Taize Brothers with their english curriculum for their schools. There is another volunteer who is from Germany who asked if I'd like to help her do this, and it sounds like it'd be another good option. There never is a shortage of volunteer work here, that is for sure.
I also just found out that at 6pm most nights, before 7pm prayers, she (caroline, from germany) is teaching Taize songs in English...and I plan to join her and the boys who live in the Taize community to learn more of the songs. I love Taize.
Life here in Bangladesh is very normal now, even a bit boring. I find myself longing for another adventure. I am sure I just need to look a little harder and I will find another rabbit hole to disappear into. What will it take to have an adventure at home after this year? I will think about that when the time comes. As for me, now, it is time for lunch.
PEACE.
Cicely
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Global Family Trip to Garopara and Boldipukur
(I just wrote this up for the newsletter--it matches the pictures I posted a couple weeks ago)
I recently returned from a great visit to Garopara and Boldipukur, two of MCC’s Global Family partners. It was good to travel again and see more of the countryside of Bangladesh and meet the Sisters who work at these two Catholic Missions. I was excited to go to the Northwestern part of Bangladesh, as I had not yet been to that region before. I have gotten accustomed to these long bumpy trips in the pick-up truck, with stops for some good cha (tea), hot-off-the-grill parota (kind of like a fried tortilla) and deem (egg) omelets, (complete with finely diced chillis, of course) for breakfast.
After our long drive through gorgeous green rice fields and small quiet villages, making turns along unmarked roads that were allegedly leading us to the Mission; I finally saw the familiar green signs with crosses, signaling that we were getting very close to Garopara Catholic Mission, our first stop. Garopara is one of the smaller Missions. Bari also told me it is the poorest of all the MCC Global Family programs. When we arrived, it had begun to rain but all the children still came to greet us smiling and looking at me with curiosity. The Sisters welcomed us and showed us to a table set for tea in a side room with a tin roof. As we visited and drank our tea, the rain on the tin roof blended well with our conversation about how the Sisters were doing and about the children’s upcoming exams.
After tea, the Children put on a fantastic cultural program for us. I could see they were happy to have a two hour break from their studying. Guests rarely come to visit, since they are so remote, so when they do, they are celebrated and treated with great kindness. After lunch we said our goodbyes to the children and to the Sisters and headed for Boldipukur.
As we pulled into Boldipukur Mission, Sister Roni waved hello to us. As I got out of the truck, she greeted me with a kiss on each cheek. I looked around. This Mission is absolutely beautiful. It was redone only two years ago and the Sister’s care in keeping it clean and tidy keeps it looking exceptionally nice. The amazing flower and vegetable gardens also show the Sister’s diligence in taking care of what has been given to them. This order of Sisters is originally from Italy, though most of the sisters are now Bangladeshi. Sr. Roni asked me if I’d like some Italian coffee. I asked her if she was serious. Nobody knows how to make real good strong coffee in Bangladesh (or so I thought), but in about 10 minutes an amazing black strong cup of Joe was right before me. Hospitality truly is a one of Sr. Roni’s gifts, and it was not only the coffee.
Soon we were taken to the front area of the hostel, where the entrance served as a nice stage on which we were seated for the cultural program. A large group of children faced us, sitting on the grass. This cultural program was a little different than the others. The children wash the feet of any visitors to welcome them according to their tradition. Before I knew it, two young girls were taking off my sandals, washing my feet and smoothing mustard oil on them. Following the foot washing were many good songs and dances and cute children reciting poems for us.
The next morning, Sister Roni showed me around the Mission. She brought me to the Dispensary where people from surrounding villages come for medical treatment. She wanted to make sure I saw everything, from the linens MCC had given to the place where the medicine that MCC helped to purchase was kept, so I could pass on her gratefulness to the folks who give to MCC. This visit was too short. I could have talked with Sr. Roni about poverty, spirituality and how she serves God with her gifts for much longer than our half hour of conversation. I was thankful I had a chance to meet her and see the work she and the other sisters are doing, and if I can, I want to go to visit this mission one more time before I leave in late July.
I recently returned from a great visit to Garopara and Boldipukur, two of MCC’s Global Family partners. It was good to travel again and see more of the countryside of Bangladesh and meet the Sisters who work at these two Catholic Missions. I was excited to go to the Northwestern part of Bangladesh, as I had not yet been to that region before. I have gotten accustomed to these long bumpy trips in the pick-up truck, with stops for some good cha (tea), hot-off-the-grill parota (kind of like a fried tortilla) and deem (egg) omelets, (complete with finely diced chillis, of course) for breakfast.
After our long drive through gorgeous green rice fields and small quiet villages, making turns along unmarked roads that were allegedly leading us to the Mission; I finally saw the familiar green signs with crosses, signaling that we were getting very close to Garopara Catholic Mission, our first stop. Garopara is one of the smaller Missions. Bari also told me it is the poorest of all the MCC Global Family programs. When we arrived, it had begun to rain but all the children still came to greet us smiling and looking at me with curiosity. The Sisters welcomed us and showed us to a table set for tea in a side room with a tin roof. As we visited and drank our tea, the rain on the tin roof blended well with our conversation about how the Sisters were doing and about the children’s upcoming exams.
After tea, the Children put on a fantastic cultural program for us. I could see they were happy to have a two hour break from their studying. Guests rarely come to visit, since they are so remote, so when they do, they are celebrated and treated with great kindness. After lunch we said our goodbyes to the children and to the Sisters and headed for Boldipukur.
As we pulled into Boldipukur Mission, Sister Roni waved hello to us. As I got out of the truck, she greeted me with a kiss on each cheek. I looked around. This Mission is absolutely beautiful. It was redone only two years ago and the Sister’s care in keeping it clean and tidy keeps it looking exceptionally nice. The amazing flower and vegetable gardens also show the Sister’s diligence in taking care of what has been given to them. This order of Sisters is originally from Italy, though most of the sisters are now Bangladeshi. Sr. Roni asked me if I’d like some Italian coffee. I asked her if she was serious. Nobody knows how to make real good strong coffee in Bangladesh (or so I thought), but in about 10 minutes an amazing black strong cup of Joe was right before me. Hospitality truly is a one of Sr. Roni’s gifts, and it was not only the coffee.
Soon we were taken to the front area of the hostel, where the entrance served as a nice stage on which we were seated for the cultural program. A large group of children faced us, sitting on the grass. This cultural program was a little different than the others. The children wash the feet of any visitors to welcome them according to their tradition. Before I knew it, two young girls were taking off my sandals, washing my feet and smoothing mustard oil on them. Following the foot washing were many good songs and dances and cute children reciting poems for us.
The next morning, Sister Roni showed me around the Mission. She brought me to the Dispensary where people from surrounding villages come for medical treatment. She wanted to make sure I saw everything, from the linens MCC had given to the place where the medicine that MCC helped to purchase was kept, so I could pass on her gratefulness to the folks who give to MCC. This visit was too short. I could have talked with Sr. Roni about poverty, spirituality and how she serves God with her gifts for much longer than our half hour of conversation. I was thankful I had a chance to meet her and see the work she and the other sisters are doing, and if I can, I want to go to visit this mission one more time before I leave in late July.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Cultural dance. The children do not often have an audience, so when we come on these visits, its a huge deal. We are given the place of honor, the food of honor and many many songs and dances. This last time, they asked me to sing for them. I am getting used to this here. I am always being asked to sing an English song for them. Sometimes I will be in the park and people won't let me leave without me singing a song for them. This time I sang an O Brother Where Art Thou? song and later I sang Amazing Grace.
A skit by two girls about the woman (right) taking care of the man (left). they were dancing as well as acting to the beat of a drum. It was funny.
I think at this point I am awkwardly explaining where America is in Relation to Bangladesh. Bari helps me by translating...
This woman is getting medicine from the Sister's Dispensery. Two Sisters at this Mission were nurses. The waiting area is huge, and many people come each day, needing care. MCC gives some medicine once a year to this Mission.
Sister plays the harmonium and everyone sings...you have to pump the harmonium with your left hand and play the melody with your right, and sing, reading the words. They do it so effortlessly.
This little munchkin recited an english poem for us. It was about Red lights and Green lights. They cut all the little girl's hair like this to make it "grow long and strong." They are suggesting the same thing for me. I politely refuse. :0)
Global Family Visits to the NW
As is customary, to show honor and respect for guests these two girls washed my feet with soap and then smoothed mustard oil on them. The sheer ordinariness of it all struck me. There were no praise bands riling up emotions, no music, no complicated metaphors, no electricity even, it was normal, everyday--of course you welcome those you respect by washing their feet.
Many kids at the mission. They welcomed us by singing in their local language.Thursday, May 03, 2007
Superfluous
Things I miss from home in the US, Grand Rapids, specifically--not in order of importance.
Places:
-Common Ground Coffee Shop
-Kava House
-Sami's Pita house
-Billy's Lounge
-Little Bohemia and all those amazing beads
-downtown library--2nd floor
-The Y (women here don't exercise...ever--its making me crazy)
-My aunt and uncle's house complete with cousins and dog, Toby
-Harambee's porch
-Wilcox park
-Cottage Bar
-Camp Roger--all that open forest and trails
-Holland--and the beach. Tunnel Park.
-Mir's apt--drinking coffee while she plays the piano, after we just made and ate stromboli
-Lori's hot tub--preferrably we are both enjoying it and talking...
-Eastown in general....
-Wolfgangs--is the early bird special still in existence? 2.25?
-Reeds Lake-walking or running around it
-Harambee's Sunporch
-My own kitchen where I can make my own food
Food:
-cold cereal with cold milk
-coffee
-wheat bread. or 7 grain bread.
-Salad
-Pizza with cheeze that melts
-Actual vegetarian food. no small fish lurking about in there
-BEANS! (i am sooo excited to eat kidney beans in less than 3 months)
-wine
-local brews, or my brother's brews
-coffee--oh I already said that
other things:
-going places and not getting stared at, asked for my phone number, asked all sort of annoying questions by annoying overzealous men. I never knew how much I liked fitting in. Going to the bank and running other errands in GR with nobody watching never looked so good.
-ovens.
-wearing clothes that are not always so matchy matchy
-blue jeans.
-oregano and other non-curry spices (that should go in the food section , I guess)
-walking on a paved sidewalk.
-calling people on the phone whenever I want to
-being able to read street signs
-being able to be friends with men and not always being asked, "what is your relationship?"
To be continued. (maybe later I will post the things I will miss about Bangladesh. today I am too cynical for such a list. haha)
Places:
-Common Ground Coffee Shop
-Kava House
-Sami's Pita house
-Billy's Lounge
-Little Bohemia and all those amazing beads
-downtown library--2nd floor
-The Y (women here don't exercise...ever--its making me crazy)
-My aunt and uncle's house complete with cousins and dog, Toby
-Harambee's porch
-Wilcox park
-Cottage Bar
-Camp Roger--all that open forest and trails
-Holland--and the beach. Tunnel Park.
-Mir's apt--drinking coffee while she plays the piano, after we just made and ate stromboli
-Lori's hot tub--preferrably we are both enjoying it and talking...
-Eastown in general....
-Wolfgangs--is the early bird special still in existence? 2.25?
-Reeds Lake-walking or running around it
-Harambee's Sunporch
-My own kitchen where I can make my own food
Food:
-cold cereal with cold milk
-coffee
-wheat bread. or 7 grain bread.
-Salad
-Pizza with cheeze that melts
-Actual vegetarian food. no small fish lurking about in there
-BEANS! (i am sooo excited to eat kidney beans in less than 3 months)
-wine
-local brews, or my brother's brews
-coffee--oh I already said that
other things:
-going places and not getting stared at, asked for my phone number, asked all sort of annoying questions by annoying overzealous men. I never knew how much I liked fitting in. Going to the bank and running other errands in GR with nobody watching never looked so good.
-ovens.
-wearing clothes that are not always so matchy matchy
-blue jeans.
-oregano and other non-curry spices (that should go in the food section , I guess)
-walking on a paved sidewalk.
-calling people on the phone whenever I want to
-being able to read street signs
-being able to be friends with men and not always being asked, "what is your relationship?"
To be continued. (maybe later I will post the things I will miss about Bangladesh. today I am too cynical for such a list. haha)
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