Living the Questions

Home...a few reflections and noticings.

2007-08-16T08:45:00.000+06:00

So, one last blog, in case there are any hanger-on-ers who are dying to know what happened to me after I lamented about packing.

I got home nearly a month ago, and it has been wonderful. I was wondering if I would be bitter or frustrated or confused about the quick change of pace and life style. Honestly, I've had a really great transition. I am thankful.

America is great. At first, I was weirded out by how new, rectangular, clean, shiny, organized and quiet it was. I ran outside my first morning in Philly with my friend Alaina, and felt my first genuinely cool breeze with gentle sunlight. It was amazing. The roads looked wide and nearly boring. What especially got me was the PACE of Americans. In the airport I was shocked at how much information people were attempting to digest all at once-- ipod, reading, watching the news. I do not believe that all those can be done well at once, but there were many people trying!

I was amazed at my zen like patience with travel. I do not need to be constantly entertained anymore. I can sit through an 18 hr trip from Dhaka to Philly and barely notice that time has gone by. This was a surprise. I am less easily frustrated here when things do not go as expected. My sense of time and dates and being late is definately still Bengali style. It has kept me from feeling stressed out, I've just been going with the flow, visiting all my favorite people who I love... and I've been enjoying American food--pizza, fries, cold drinks, summer cookouts. Lake Michigan is still there and beautiful, and I've especially loved being able to go for a run and not get harassed, stared at, commented upon...barely noticed even. That is a good feeling. It is great not to feel like a celebrity anymore. I've been cooking alot, baking some, taking long walks. Noticing things. Life is good. I have a different sense of what America is like, because I have new eyes through which to see it. I do not fear forgetting this past year with all the adventures, learnings and amazing people, I am excited to see how it will shape the future.

In about 2 weeks I begin the Mdiv/MSW program at Western Seminary in Holland, MI. I am excited to learn about Theology, Ministry and Social Work. I am looking forward to becoming part of the seminary community.

I don't think I'll be blogging like this anymore..I'll be writing in other ways maybe electronically, maybe not. We'll see.

For now, it is just really good to be home.

Peace to you all.
Cicely

because i don't feel like packing

2007-07-12T17:25:00.000+06:00

Random 8
Rebs JH tagged me-good thing I read her blog, b/c she didn't tell me she tagged me. (normally I don't do these things...or respond to forwards that promise 7 years of good luck and weight loss if you send it to 89,000 other people) Now that we're clear that I NEVER do this here are my random facts.

1. I have to post these rules before I give you the facts.
2. Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
3. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
4. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
5. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.

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1. Currently reading, "The Alchemist" by Paul Coelho. Just finished, " The God of Small Things" by Arundhati Roy, "The Namesake" by Jhumpa Lahiri ( and I hear there is a movie based on this book, which I want to see)
and "A Thousand Splendid Suns" by Khaled Hosseini --I've had a ton of time to read in Bangladesh and have discoverd some new authors from Asia. I've also enjoyed reading stories that are set in Muslim countries. I have had a new level of understanding and while reading and can picture exactly what the authors are describing and some of the words are the same as some Bangla words, they all have roots in sanskrit. It's pretty cool.

2. I am in love with Convents. I don't know if this will ever go away. You should go to one sometime. Don't try to "do" anything while you are there. Just go.

3. I only got to see the Taj Mahal for 3 Minutes last week. Ask me to tell you the story later.

4. I am a stomach sleeper. I hear this is bad for your back. It doesn't seem to be bad for mine. and I only have a one inch matress and a pillow as hard as a brick right now.

5. Last week one of my highlights from India was seeing Sikh's (the ones with turbans that never cut their hair and that carry swords) making music at the Golden Temple, with instruments I have never seen before, singing in an otherworldly way.

6. I am a member of the Traveling Shirt Club. But the Traveling Shirt never made it to Bangladesh. (beth tried though, it's waiting for me in PA :) )

7. I once made all my housemates dance to Ace of Bace's "I saw the Sign" (which found its way onto the House CD)

8. A conversation with a shop owner vying for my attention, in India (he was following us and being pesky) Man: Hello. Me: Hello. (picking up the pace and trying to look intent on something) Man: Where are you from? Me: Turkey. Man: I want to talk with you. Me: I do not have time to talk with you. Man: Do you mind? Me: Yes, I mind. (walking even faster) Man: "I have no mind." Me: uprorious laughter.

I am tagging: Miriam, Alaina, Reba, Robin and Emily...

a few words

2007-07-11T10:48:00.000+06:00

back from india....too exhausted to say much of anything but here are a few words and phrases to describe the last few weeks and the transition i am anticipating in coming home.

-amazed and the dance of differences between cultures..india and bangladesh.
-wondering if I'll ever be able to speak and write in english without so many spelling and grammar errors. even though i've been teaching english...i forget a lot of which phrases people use, how to spell words, how to use prepositions (my brother, a member of the grammar police will not be happy about this and will have all kinds of fun correcting me at first i am sure) what is normal to say, what american english sounds like--i haven't been in a room full of white americans in a loooong time.
-mmm. dosas. need to find a place in GR with Dosas.
-happy about coming home, not looking forward to saying goodbye to the Sisters and the kids at the mission.
-ugh. packing. how did i accumulate so much crap?
-i am SO ready not to be stared at and commented upon all the time.
-wondering how i'll be different. i don't know yet.
-thinking about how i can come back in the future for a visit.
-not wanting to leave the pace of Bangladeshi life behind. Don't want to get too busy. still want to drink cha and have lots of conversations with nobody looking at the clock. i'm still not going to wear a watch.
-looking forward to lake michigan...
-can't wait to see my friends.
-dark chocolate and red wine, on the harambee sunporch with katie and miriam, andrew and ruth..(as well as any other former members of harambee) listening to music sounds fantastic. or any of the above elements.
-happy alaina gets to pick me up in Philly. we also are going to have dark chocolate and red wine.
-thinking i will miss conversations that go like this: me, showing up somewhere: "hello." other person. "hello. do you want to come inside?". Me: "yes." other person. "okay, come in, have tea, have lunch." (that was at L'arche in Kolkata...)
-i really don't like transitions, but also trying to keep an open mind about this one.
-i might be socially awkward--which will probably be funny. hopefully to other people as well as myself.
-yikes. i have only a month and a little bit before I start school at Western Seminary. (not thinking about all the things yet that have to get done before then.)
-can't wait to see my grandma, other family members...and celebrate her 83rd birthday in ohio...
-yes. no open sewers, that i accidently fall in.
-mmm. real coffee. its amazing what you learn to do without.
-feels strange and makes me sad that i am leaving....and get to have my freedom back, while so many women here will never get a chance to know what that is like.
-feeling much less cynical. must be the blissful nostalgia taking over.
-wondering what this year will mean to me in the future.
-will miss each morning the sight of men holding babies...as they brush their teeth and watch the traffic go by..
-i'll miss the sisters a lot.
-i won't miss the humidity.
-will not miss these questions and phrases from random people on the street: "what is your country?" "do you speak bangla?" "i would like to introduce with you" "i would like to marry you and come to america" "hey sexy" (and worse, not appropriate for the blogger audience.) "are you married?" "why aren't you married?" "do you ever want to get married" (why do random people care about this?!) "my brother lives in america" (everyone's brother lives in america or the UK)
-i should be getting on another bus to mymensingh. a little sick at the moment....waiting it out.
-using water from the tap seems extravagant. (how do you spell that?)
-what will look super weird when i come back? what will i notice?

ah, another 10 days......

peace to you all....
Cicely

Old Dhaka...

2007-06-24T08:27:00.000+06:00

A Harmonium in the making.

A nearly finished Harmonium.

Tabblas hanging from the ceiling.

Men making spice grinders.

The sky was so beautiful yesterday.

School boys stop for fuschka. Which also happens to be my favorite street food.

Beautiful women in saris move effortlessly through the streets.

On Hindu Street. When I first walked down this street 10 months ago, on my second day in Bangladesh, it completely overwhelmed me with all the stimuli. Now that I can speak some Bangla and know how to move without getting hit by a rickshaw it was a lot of fun yesterday. This street is really cool and feels so alive. Many instrument shops, jewelry shops, people hanging out drinking cha, Hindu temples. And we walked down it after it rained so it had a fresh cool feeling and the lighting was gorgeous.

a new little friend.

two new little friends.

Jackfruit, Bangladesh's national fruit

Carved conch shell bracelets. Wearing them on your wrists mean you are a married Hindu woman.

Lungis being delivered.

The streets in Old Dhaka are very narrow, and stacked high with shops, apartments, and people looking down on the busyness below.

Pink Palace. Very Colonial.

On Thursday I'll head to India; I'm looking forward to the trip.....

A Few Reflections For A Rainy Day...

2007-06-18T15:41:00.001+06:00

My friend Alaina just told me I have only 33 days left in this place until I come back to the US. In some ways it feels like I just got here. I'm finally adjusted to life and I feel like I should stay because I've have established some roots and found Community here. Somehow I have learned to call this place home. In other ways it seems like this year would never end and I am breathing a sigh of relief that the time is almost here to go back to my own culture, friends and family. It's been a year like that...great and terrible...amazing and boring...intense while being laid back. It has produced unexpected reactions. It's hard for me to tell the story of Bangladesh yet.

One thing is for certain, after living in Bangladesh I won't be the same. I'm sure people who live in a developing country say this sort of thing all the time...but for me I think it will be true, or at least I hope it will be true. This year has produced more questions than answers about the way this life works, the nature of God and his relationship with us as human beings...the cycle of poverty and injustice. I came to Bangladesh wanting adventures and wanting to learn what life was like on the other side of the world. I wanted to shake up my theories of life. I wanted to remember why I cared about issues of justice. I wanted to get away from North America and hear the sounds on the other side of the world. I wanted to listen to the stories of those who were experiencing the things I only briefly skimmed over in the newspaper as I ate my cereal and downed a cup of coffee before rushing out the door in the morning.

My theories of life have been shaken up, but the more I am here, the more I am realizing that a place is a place is a place is a place is a place. People here are like people everywhere. Sure, it looks different; all the fruit shops with neatly arranged apples and hanging grapes, men sitting inside, beckoning me to come, "Sister, Sister, Asho..." The hundreds of colorfully decorated rickshaws on the roads, bells ringing, telling people to get out of the way, the women in Burkahs, hidden away in their own little black boxes. The smell of Hindu incense. The day laborers in their plaid lungis, shovels in hand, waiting to get picked up to go to work in an attempt to get some money so they can eat as well as feed their family. The amazing fabric and color combinations that take extrodinary imagination. The little kids right outside the Mission that I see everyday playing cricket-- daring eachother to say hello to me. The call to Prayer, whining, "Allah, Akbar" coming from the mosque next to the Mission, mixes with the Bell we use to remind us it is time to pray. On the surface it looks and smells and sounds different. Underneath all that, though, everyone's just trying to make ends meet. Babies are still being born and the sun is still coming up each day. Or at least we are all counting on those things.

And while I seem to have gotten used to life here, my experience as a single, not-terrible- looking, white, Western woman tells me that people, especially men, have not gotten used to me. I think this has been the hardest part. In Muslim culture, men are not supposed to look at women, they are not supposed touch women, they are not supposed to make comments to women. If a woman is not dressed modestly enough, if her orna does not cover her chest completely, it is her fault that she has drawn attention to herself and has invited inappropriate comments or the like. Segregation on buses and trains, in church, and around the table is normal. Men on one side, women on the other. Marriages are arranged by the parents.

My experience with the men in this place has been incredibly negative. They think that I, as a woman from the US am like the movie stars they watch on their dish network TV, wanting sex with any random man all the time, anytime. They think that it is somehow appropriate to yell sexual comments in my direction, grope me in crowded markets, hiss and leer at me while I walk down the road. They take pictures of me using their mobile phone cameras. It pisses me off.

Here, women are not respected, they are cooped up in their homes, cooking and cleaning, they get locked inside by their husbands. They do not have much say in their career choice, if they get to have one at all. They are forced to wear burkahs and baggy salwar kameezes to hide their curves, to prevent men, besides their husbands, from becoming attracted to them. Women are paid less for the same work, they are not seen outside in tea shops. There aren't even women's bathrooms anywhere. Many young women are married off at the age of fourteen or fifteen. This is their reality. They do not have a voice.

Obviously, my own experience has been dramatically different, growing up in the US. I can celebrate being a woman with a body that looks like a woman's body, I can choose how I spend my time, I can choose if I marry or not, I can study things I am interested in, I can stay out late with friends listening to music without being seen as a "woman of the night", and (gasp) I can even have male friends. It is hard to explain these differences to people here who just have no context to understand it.

Living with the Sisters has been a good good thing this year. These are women who have decided not to marry. They get to travel the world. They are proud to be women. They have made a decision to serve God and humanity with all they have. They take a vow of Poverty, Obedience and Chastity. They live in Community with eachother so well. They take care of orphans and widows and teach poor kids how to read. They do it with out a hint of pride. And if they knew I was saying all this they would be very embarassed. They have become my best friends this year. It's taken time and many adjustments on everyone's part; and as the Scale of Time is tipping in Home's direction, I am becoming more aware that I will miss them and will have to come back at some future point. They already made me promise I would, actually. I have learned from them how to show hospitality and what kindness to strangers looks like. I have been able to ask questions about how to continually have compassion and not burn out (their continuous answer: prayer), how to love those who seem unloveable...... All while having fun and laughing alot, and not taking themselves too seriously.

33 days....

and i just have to say

2007-06-14T18:26:00.000+06:00

that somehow my blogger account turned from english to chinese. it's all in characters. i have no idea where anything is or how to change it back. i do not read chinese. and i don't exactly want to learn for the sake of this blog account.

help?

and why chinese and not bangla? i feel like i'm in alice in wonderland, digitally.

Around Mymensingh

2007-06-14T15:58:00.000+06:00

This is Rico and I. I am never quite sure if he is going to kiss me or bite me. He has epilepsy, so he is really strong from having so many seizures and tightening up his muscles. He enjoys going for walks and is really sweet.

yes, I took a rickshaw in this....
Russel and Elenor by the river. Elenor lives and works with the boys at Ashinir. She's great and it's been good talking with her lately.

I've been spending time at L'arche teaching english to some of the voluteers as well as just hanging out. Bangladeshis are good at relaxing. There is always time for tea...too much rushing around drives me crazy after a while, it's nice to not need much planning over here and have ample time to chat and relax. I think I will be pretty surprised about the pace of American life when I come back.

I've been teaching some of the sisters how to type and use the computer. Two of them are heading to the Philipines to start a community there, and are trying to learn as much as they can before they go. I remember when we got our first computer, but it's hard to imagine not knowing how to use one, as well as where to start teaching them. Yesterday we started with how to turn it on. That's as good as anything, I guess.

This morning I went over to the Monastary for prayers, I hadn't been there yet, so Sister Florence invited me to go with her. A different order of Sisters, Carmelites, live there. Only 2 go outside. The rest stay hidden away. During prayers this morning there was a wall separating them from the rest of the Sisters (and me)...they sing really nicely, and someone plays the viola, but I have no idea what they look like.

Weekends in Dhaka...

2007-06-10T12:11:00.000+06:00

Rain...rain....more rain lately. the thunderstorms are amazing. The other night Reba and I were on our way back to the guest house in a CNG (golf cart like thingie) and water from the road was up to the floor boards and seeping through the roof! it was a riot. Later, the rain was so strong I just took a shower in it on the roof top.

MCC women: Reba, Ethel, yours truly
Me, Alana...at her goodbye party...Alana has been working for CRWRC for 4 years and is heading home to the US around the same time as me. It's been fun playing a bit of Dutch Bingo with her this year. She had a farewell-you-must-wear-a-sari-party. fun was had by all. good hummus too.

Weekends in Dhaka are nice. They are relaxing, and usually contain not eating white rice, going to coffee shops. (we just found one w/ good coffee AND good music), going grocery shopping for things Mymensingh doesn't have, meeting up with Dhaka friends, seeing fellow MCCers, and sleeping in an AC room.

This weekend Reba and I got Mehendi (Henna) done, and I pierced my other nostril. so now I can wear a giant gold hoop from one to the other.

ha ha, just kidding. I did pierce my ear again though.

At the salon there were many brides to be getting all painted up, wearing gorgeous saris, with sequins and elaborate beading. There are many many workers at the salon. And haircutting is done by the lower classes. They really only have two styles here: Long and longer. Being foreigners, we sort of drew a crowd, especially when I was freaking out a little about my ear piercing, but what else is new?

I am listening to the rain, and trying to finish this before the current goes out again.

peace to you all....

People around the Mission

2007-06-05T13:55:00.001+06:00

My little friends from the orphanage. I started a mini PE class.... running around and playing games together. They leave today, and it makes me sad...
Beautiful...

L to R: Sister Mala, a teacher, Sister Shilpi, and in front, Sister Rosie. These 3 sisters have become good friends.
Sister Rosie with 3 women who work as teacher aids.

Ms. Nath's advice

2007-06-03T10:45:00.000+06:00

My language teacher, Ms. Nath, told me three things when I first arrived in Bangladesh.

1. Don't talk to boys

2. Don't chew pan

3. Don't go the theater

Before she gave me advice #s 1 and 2, I had already done them both, with in the first 3 days of arriving. Talking to "boys.." generally a bad idea unless you know them through a family or friend. They will end up calling your mobile incessantly, and have all sorts of ideas about you as a western woman, before they even take the time to get to know you. You will end up being a piece of prestigious arm candy that they can show their friends. It's true, I am not being unreasonably harsh. Talking to random boys in the park= bad idea.

Pan.....is a leaf with a betel nut inside. You use a bit of lime paste to make the leaf and nut react to eachother. People chew it like tobacco. It's pretty addictive, apparently, and stains your teeth red. I tried it on my 2nd day here, and one time was enough for me. There was a large crowd of men watching me stuff it in my mouth (I have never chewed tobacco, I have no idea how this works) and then my mouth went numb and I started drooling and spitting it out. gross.

Going to the theater. Until yesterday, I had abided by that piece of advice. But I was curious, and so was my friend Reba, so we decided to go and check it out. We arrived and were shown into the "ladies waiting room." Two other women were waiting for the movie to start. Finally the movie was going to begin so a man escorted us up 4 flights of stairs to a tiny seating section in the upper left corner of the theater. This was where women sat, I assumed. The movie began, on using reel to reel. I looked down and could see through the floor boards. My chair was swallowing me and wouldn't stay unfolded.

The movie contained several bad guys, shooting innocent people who ended up ooozing with fake blood. The women were helpless damsils in distress wearing "scandelous" (by bangladeshi standards) clothing, batting their eyes at these beefy men. Several Hindi movie esqu dance scenes came out of nowhere. There was a hanging seen. Lots of Bengali style camera"zooming" in and out to capture the contorted reactions of people watching their friends get hung or shot. More fake blood. More beefy men rescuing the women. More bad costumes. It was entertaining...for the first hour.

After the First hour, they had to change the reel, and a Coca-Cola vendor came around saying, "tanda!" (cold!) I wanted a cold drink, so I bought a coke in a glass bottle to enjoy during the movie. I paid using a 100 taka note. It cost 20, so I needed 80 back. Apparently they wanted me to drink it really fast and give them the bottle back. So I gulped it down while the vendor watched and then I asked for my change. Over the next hour, my change came to me via several different men and a little boy in incriments of 10 takas. It was amusing.

After I finally got my change, I asked the lady next to me how much longer the movie would be. Thinking it had to be over soon. She said it was at least another hour until it was finished. I nudged Reba and asked her what she was thinking about leaving or staying... and we decided to go Sari shopping instead.

Overall, not a bad experience. Didn't get hurt or mugged. It smelled a little, there were no women's bathrooms, it was old and dusty...not unlike many other things in Bangladesh. Shamosha nae. No problem.

2007-06-03T10:02:00.000+06:00

Changes.

2007-05-31T11:38:00.000+06:00

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.

2007-05-31T11:19:00.001+06:00

At Holy Family Primary School

2007-05-30T11:10:00.000+06:00

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

2007-05-30T10:06:00.000+06:00

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.)

A day in my life....

2007-05-27T10:36:00.000+06:00

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.

Normal Days are a changing....

2007-05-25T12:35:00.000+06:00

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

Global Family Trip to Garopara and Boldipukur

2007-05-20T11:21:00.000+06:00

(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.

2007-05-10T15:13:00.000+06:00

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.

2007-05-10T15:06:00.000+06:00

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.

2007-05-10T14:56:00.000+06:00

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

2007-05-10T14:44:00.000+06:00

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.

Superfluous

2007-05-03T14:32:00.000+06:00

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)

Kolkata

2007-04-30T11:00:00.000+06:00

It's monday over here and I just got back at 1am from a fast jaunt to Kolkata/ Calcutta over the weekend. I headed there with fellow SALTER, Darren, to meet our fellow India SALTERS, Kate and Sara. SALTin it up. MCC would be proud. Heck, they already are.

Getting from Dhaka to Kolkata is not too hard, but it does take 13 hours by bus. Flying takes 1/2 hour, but is about 4 times as expensive. Granted, the bus does have Air Conditioning, so much so that you need a blanket to stay somewhat warm. I've been on so many bumpy, crowded, crappy busses this year, that this one rode pretty much like a dream. (not to mention the ample leg room)

Crossing the border=not so much like a dream. Chaos, that somehow works. We were ushered through many concrete buildings, into waiting rooms, on to rickshaws,past dozens of freight trucks trying to cross the border, filled out numerous paperworks--all while in that semi consciousness state that happens when you travel for long distances and sort of forget where you are actually going and if you will actually get there. (the worst part perhaps is that I lost my neck pillow when we changed busses at the border. neck pillows make a world of difference when traveling around here. if you haven't given much thought to one, maybe it's time you do.)

Once in Kolkata we were greeted by Sara and Kate who had a worse train ride experience than our border chaos. Their train was overbooked so they didn't really have seats. overnight. It's never worth complaining b/c someone always has it worse. :)

They took us to eat some good indian food with great garlic naan bread,took us to the flower market, over the Howrah bridge...this bridge has the world record number for people crossing it everyday. When we crossed it there was a steady stream of people walking and driving going in both directions. Apparently the stream never even pauses. Later in the evening we went to the "sound and light show" all about the history of Kolkata. It was really funny. But only to us. The Indians around us were watching with firm concentration and appreciation. It had a ridiculous, catchy " I am Kolkata" tune with lights shining up on this huge building...and random historical facts. The narrorator ended his 45 minute monologue saying, "come to Kolkata and it will give you life." It could be a Cult Classic, as Darren aptly noted. Apparently Sound and Light shows are a big deal in India. It was so funny that it might be one of the highlights of visiting Kolkata.

Everyone knows about Kolkata because of Mother Theresa and thinks of Kolkata with a bit of pity or pious jealousy toward the woman who lived her life in solidarity with the poor. I was ready to see the bowels of the city and visit Mother Theresa's house, and see exactly what all the hype about Kolkata and Mother Theresa was about. What I saw and felt came as a bit of a surprise to me. Truthfully, Kolkata is much the same as the cities of Dhaka or Mymensingh--places that have become home. There is more of a street culture, as people are bathing in ceramic tubs right outside. There are more beggers, or so it seems. More people sleeping on the street. My reactions were less being overwhelmed by the poverty, as more of a confirmation, that yes, this place is much like many other places I have visited. There is wealth, there is poverty, there is a middle class.Yes, it is a stark difference between the rich and poor. But maybe it's just more revealed than other cities--more honest--than I've been to and lived in-- in the US. Some people are concerned for only themselves and their personal assets and some decide to care about the poor, as Mother Theresa did. It confirms what I have been learning this year that injustice is injustice where ever you go. And again leaves me asking what my small piece of the puzzle is in caring for those that need care and giving a voice, or helping those to find their voice that before where speechless.

2007-04-25T10:35:00.000+06:00

After one of the cultural program all the children were free stylin' it..and grabbed my hands, and suddenly I was dancing along with them for a good long time. It was the highlight of my trip.
The hills of India.

Global Family Trip

2007-04-25T10:30:00.000+06:00

This is a church at one of the missions. Below...These are 2 of my sister friends, MCC National Staff and new priest friends.

Trip North to Global Family Programs

2007-04-25T10:07:00.000+06:00

This is in Baluchura, I am introducing myself. MCC does Peace and Conflict Resolution trainings with the children at various Mission schools and part of my job as a SALTER is to go along on these trips and learn about MCC's Global Family programs. I also have the privelege of seeing many different parts of Bangladesh this way--and traveling by A/C Truck isn't all that bad either.
We always get a hearty welcome. This girl is pinning a flower on me, while the larger group is singing a welcome song loudly and clapping their hands. At night the children from the Mission put on a Cultural Program with traditional dancing, skits and singing. It's really fun.

This last week or so...

2007-04-23T15:20:00.000+06:00

It's been a good last week or so. Full of normalish good things. I went south to Bandarban for a Buddhist Water festival last weekend with some friends. The water festival generally involves lots of little children throwing water all over anyone who looks their way. We got completely soaked on our rickshaw when 14 boys decided to attack us with water from 2 liter bottles as we cruised by. It was a hot and humid day so it felt really nice. Later, I went near the river and watched the Monks bathe the Golden Buddha in holy water, which smelled of sandalwood. A huge crowd gathered on the riverbank to take part in the ceremony and prayers. Some monks played the drums and other men played something that looked a bit like a flute. As I looked around I felt a bit out of place--of course no other foreigners besides us came to this; Sometimes not fitting in hits me more than other times--it wasn't a bad thing, more of an amusing realization.

This weekend my friend and housemate from last year, James, has been visiting, which has been fun. It's always good to show someone around and see what they notice and the conversations it produces.

The Sisters have been attending an Herbal Medicine Seminar for the last week, and have been cooking up all sorts of interesting medicines in the kitchen, producing many interesting new smells. James and I tried one today, it was very good, and menthol tasting. We had to close our eyes while drinking it, or we would start to cry from the fumes.

Tomorrow will bring prayers at Taize, a bus to Dhaka and Tea with Ethel. Oh yeah, and teaching English.

This weekend will bring a trip to Kolkata to see the city and Mother Theresa's house....

It's not a bad life that I'm living at all.

p.e.a.c.e.

Sisters...

2007-04-15T17:04:00.000+06:00

Retu and Sister Meeta...
Greener than green rice field. I took this when I went to visit Sister Florence's village.

Really?

2007-04-15T16:55:00.000+06:00

Doesn't "sumptuous" usually apply to bosoms or the like? I never realized that it could be about fast foods. Some of the signage is really funny here; but I am starting to forget what makes sense and what doesn't. I am also mixing up my prepositions and how I speak has changed. Sometimes its very "alice in wonderlandish" over here.

MCC partner organization

2007-04-15T16:44:00.000+06:00

SUSS is an MCC partner org. They work to reduce early marriages, in education, in advocacy, and the exuctive director, a woman, has an amazing optimistic outlook about Bangladesh. She started the organization after being married very young and going through very tough hellish circumstances. Now she advocates and provides these young women with and opportunity to learn sewing and handicraft skills. By learning these skills, their family sees that they can contribute, and will not marry them off at such a young age.
Batik in the making.

At L'arche

2007-04-15T16:29:00.000+06:00

This is the same day as I danced with Boppi and the other volunteers at the L'Arche community. I was actually only pretending to cook; I don't really know how to make fish curry very well. My students wanted to take a picture of me trying though.
Three of my students: Chandra, Nandita, Me, Amrita. We had such a great morning that day. We were laughing b/c the woman who took our picture, Mashie, had never taken one before and was holding it upsidedown 2.5 seconds before.

Happy Easter

2007-04-15T15:59:00.000+06:00

This picture was taken right after Easter Sunday's service. These girls stay at the orphanage at the Mission. They were saying "Happy Easter, Di Di" to me. (Di Di is a term of respect that younger girls say to women) After the Holy Saturday Service I could feel the excitement in the air. The girls were dancing and singing and kissing eachother on the cheeks, yelling "happy easter" The Sisters permitted the semi chaos, because they, too were happy and celebrating for the entire week. I was glad I stuck around for all the services and spent it with those with whom I share my daily life.
Everyone wanted their portrait taken. She was the most patient and not screaming into my ear, so I took hers.... :)

From my classroom

2007-04-15T15:37:00.000+06:00

One day my students didn't come to class, so I took a few pictures from around the room. The Mission where I live has many blue eyed pictures of Jesus and Mary. I find it confusing, especially since I am the only one at the Mission with Blueish eyes and I am pretty sure Jesus didn't look like the below picture. I wonder if they ask these questions too. Also lots of pictures of them with golden crowns and flowing, red, velvet king's capes.
A picture of Mary.

Dancing with Boppi

2007-04-09T14:18:00.000+06:00

It's easy to get weighed down here in Bangladesh. Too much noise, traffic, pollution. It's overpopulated, men make inappropriate sexual comments all the time, people staring--rubbernecking to get a good look at me. (not to mention the extreme poverty, corruption, sexisim and all other "isms") The daily combination of all that can be, quite frankly, exhausting.

However, there are many things besides the aforementioned that are life giving--making my time here in Bangladesh not only manageable but delightful. This morning I headed to Ashinir- L'Arche ( an international community for people with disabilities) with three of my students. We took a rickshaw and arrived right on time to help with the day care for kids with special needs. We got there and learned that it had been cancelled because of the Easter Holiday. We could have gone home, but we sat for a little while, drank tea and ate biscuits with the live- in volunteers. Three volunteers are from Bangladesh and one woman, Elenor, is from Ireland, but spends her life taking care of the 4 boys with special needs and no families, here in Bangladesh.

After drinking cha, Amrita, Nandita and Chandra all decided to help out with the cooking and cleaning, giving Elenor, Boppi and I a chance to gossip a bit. Boppi is about ten years old with both mental and physical disabilties. He doesn't use words to speak, but communicates quite effectively, if you know how to listen. He loves to listen to the gossip from around town. Elenor and I chatted for a while about western culture and bengali culture and just enjoyed speaking effortless english with eachother. Boppi played with my orna and held my hand and smiled alot, making cooing happy sounding noises. Soon, it was time for Elenor to finish the laundry, leaving me with Boppi. Two of the other volunteers dressed him up in my orna, Elenor's orna and some other colorful clothes and turned on Hindi dance music. Boppi knew just what to do. He started laughing and dancing in circles, grabbed my hand and asked me to dance too. Well, you don't have to ask me twice to dance, so Boppi and I danced and swayed and laughed and twirled around to music on the hard cold concrete floor. Soon my students, Elenor and the other volunteers were dancing and laughing too. It was amazing.

A La indirect communication

2007-04-07T12:16:00.000+06:00

One day, my students all told me they were coming to class. 20 minutes later, I was ready to begin, but no students! Here, if you have a problem, you don't tell the person with whom you have the conflict, you tell others, who may or may not tell you that there is a problem. For me, this can be frustrating, but for them, that's just the way to communicate.... and to be honest, I didn't mind not having class.

Palm Sunday

2007-04-01T14:08:00.000+06:00

This morning I woke up early to attend Palm Sunday 6:30am Mass. I have an opportunity to go to Mass every morning, but never go because it is all in churchy bangla which I don't understand and because it's normally at 6am...very early for a non morning person, especially with no coffee option. But, when I realized that it was Palm Sunday, I wanted to celebrate with other Christians and so I got myself up. (It wasn't that hard, I must admit) I walked over to the Church with Sister Momota, who was very excited I was attending Mass and then saw Elenor, an Irish woman I know who works in the local L'Arche community. She's an amazing woman in her 60s or 70s and was eager to chat with me about my recent trip to Nepal and her recent trip to India and to a Pilgrimmage for the Disabled that was held last weekend. 400 people with disabilities and their caretakers made a pilgrimmage, to show solidarity, at one of the Missions in Northern Bangladesh.

We stood around talking, while the Palm Branches were handed out. It was not unlike many Palm Sunday services I have attended in the past. The Priest then welcomed us, read the story of Jesus riding into Jerusalem on a Donkey. Elenor had an English Liturgy, which was much appreciated. Then we all processed into the church, women going to the Left side and the Men veering to the Right. We took our shoes off by the door--it was a sea of shoes--walked in and sat on the floor. The harmonium and hand drums welcomed us in. The church is beautiful, and much of the service I was marveling at the shape the architect used and at the stained glass. I was also marveling at all the colorful saris and salwar kameezes that were around me. The women around me were fidgeting with their saris pulling the end up over their heads, to cover them. It never stays covered, but automatically they readjust the fabric. I find myself always readjusting my orna, sometimes without thinking, one seamless motion--maybe--I am probably awkward at it, compared to these women who've been wearing them since they were 12. (in Nepal, all of the women were having "phantom ornas" we kept thinking we were wearing them or forgot them or trying to adjust them) anyway.

Elenor and I followed the readings, the gospel, the Eucharist in her English prayer book. Sister Shanti did one of the readings with the Priest and we all stood or kneeled or were seated when appropriate. I figeted with my Palm Branch as I tried to catch some of the Bangla sermon. I imagine it was much like many of the sermons I've heard in the past.

Before I knew it, it was over and all of little children who live at my Mission were greeting me with their "goodmorning madams." They are so sweet--wearing matching dresses and bows. Outside the building I relocated my shoes with out too much trouble-I am sure I have the biggest feet of any woman there- and was greeted by Brother Geum, from Holland. He serves with 4 other brothers at the local Taize community and has been in Bangladesh for many years. It was nice to see him again.

Elenor and I walked back to the Mission, where Mashie (auntie in mandi, a tribal language) the cook, had prepared a wonderful breakfast of boiled eggs, chapati, pita (thin pancake like bread with coconut inside) for us and all 25 Sisters. We prayed our ususal prayer, said goodmorning to eachother, ate and talked. We especially talked about Sister Lucy, from France who had recently died at the age of 98. Sister Lucy spent her life in Bangladesh and was an extrodinary woman. I had the privelege of getting to know her a little bit this year, we'd communicate by writing on a small chalkboard, since her hearing was not good. Everyone spoke lovingly about her and how she was in this world no more. We also lamented about the new Visa policies and how the government is charging ridicuously high fines if you are late with the paperwork. It feels like a good, normal Palm Sunday.

Summertime memories

2007-03-29T13:14:00.000+06:00

I am being flooded by warm memories of a thousand summers gone by. It's hot here in Bangladesh, the smells are new, the heat reminding me of lazy school days when the teacher is tired of teaching so we watch a movie instead or have a study hall and we stick to the plastic seats of the desks. Waking up warm and, without any covers on reminds me of hot August Ohio summer mornings when I would go running before work on the farm. I am smelling the mixture of gas and newly cut grass as people decide to mow their lawns for the first time. I am reminded of getting my go-kart out of the corner of our garage and taking it for a ride on the farm, shaking out all the cobb webs. I am tasting Dr. Pepper, my favorite childhood soft drink, while I make boxes with my cousins in the box room at the farm. Don't tell my mom I drink 7 a day.

I am thinking about Calvin's Spring Arts Festival and going barefoot on Commons Lawn, while watching my friends mill around and eat free food and throw a frisbee around. I hear tropical bird sounds which brings me back to Florida or Hilton Head, South Carolina on family vacations passed. I smell the salty water and think about feeding the sea gulls. I feel the hot hot sun and want to jump into my aunt's pool or turn a sprinkler on and run through it. I think of popping the tar bubbles on the road before they re-paved it with black top. The tar always got stuck in my jelly shoes or on my big toe. We had to get it off with paint thinner.

I hear loud music with amped bass and think back to last summer on the porch at Harambee. Sitting, drinking a cold icy cup of water with the kids as they take a break from their playing. I feel the humidity and wonder when the big crack of thunder will come and release the moisture from the air.

I look at the picture from last summer backpacking at Noordhouse dunes and I want to run into lake Michigan and play and swim for hours. I hear the waves.

The hot and humid weather is good and producing unexpected reactions...I need to be more open to my unexpected reactions. My imagination is ignited, and good memories are washing me clean.

Unexpected kindness

2007-03-27T18:36:00.000+06:00

Yesterday, I hung out with my friend Isaac in Dhaka, running errands, attempting to find contact solution, and visitng my Sister friends at their Mission. We ended up at Coffee World, a place where you can get real coffee and read books in English and hang out. There are not many places like this, so whenever I go to Dhaka, I make a point of spending time there. Anyways, I asked a man, about my age sitting across the way what sort of sandwich he ordered. He told me what it was and then I ordered it. He and his friends were chatting and laughing. After a while they left and Isaac and I continued to hang out there. Finally we asked for our bill. The waiter said, "your friend 'mam." I said, "what? my friend ? " he said, "as you wish, 'mam"... I said, "as I wish what?" he said, "you do not need to see your bill" I asked why. He said, "as you wish 'mam" I didn't know what I was wishing, so I asked to see the bill. The waiter brought it over. I asked, "you mean the friends sitting right there (i point) paid my bill?" he said, " I don't know 'mam" (being all cryptic) so i said, "you mean we don't need to pay?" (this wasn't a super cheap lunch either) he FINALLY said, "yes mam." Isaac was just as perplexed and said, "we can walk away and not pay?" the waiter again said, "yes, as you wish"... well... alright then. so we walked away and all the waiters were smiling. Our friends who paid were definately long gone but i said, "thank you" out loud anyway. It was so nice to be treated that way; sometimes I feel so overwhelmed by all the staring and people asking me for money, wanting me to be their friend so I can get them a VISA or something. (not that I can) It was nice have a secret kind act done for us with absolutely no strings attached.

Wheat

2007-03-25T17:59:00.000+06:00

They grow wheat and all sorts of crops on the sides of the mountains. It looks very labor intensive.

2007-03-25T17:46:00.000+06:00

Mules are used to haul items like beer, rice, bottled water, and other goods up the mountains to the various villages along the way. Often we had to get out of the way for them to pass.
Still looking remarkably clean. This must have been one of the first days.

2007-03-25T17:35:00.000+06:00

Big decision of the day--what to order? Darrren to the left. Kate with the bandana, me with the hat...
This guy (far left) we nicknamed "the hollander" --he was from Holland (go figure) We hung out with him the first few days..we met lots of super interesting people.

Foggy hiking makes me happy

2007-03-25T17:15:00.000+06:00

One afternoon was so foggy, and I was walking all alone near the river, it was amazingly atmospheric. And my favorite day...I think. They all were amazing. but the mist and fog and moss hanging from the trees and that fresh ripe air getting all soaked into my lungs made it multi sensorarily good.

One of the places we stayed. This is the most posh backpacking I have ever done. They have lodges all along the trek, with good food, hot showers and comfortable beds. (although one time I ordered a Tuna sandwich and got chunks of spam on soggy white bread. They must have missed that cooking class. other than that it was a week of good food with no Dhal Bhat (dal and rice) which was a nice break.

High in the Air

2007-03-25T17:03:00.000+06:00

To celebrate my 25 1/2 birthday, I went paragliding. off this mountain, in Pokhara, Nepal (where we had our MCC South Asia retreat...)
These are my feet. It was remarkably un scary and left me wondering just exactly what I am going to have to do to get a rush, make my heart skip a beat etc etc... Nearly getting hit by busses walking around Dhaka is much scarier. It was so fun, drifting up above the mountains, so quiet.

Nepal

2007-03-25T14:56:00.000+06:00

This looks like a pull down mat at some K-Mart photo shop, but let me assure you, this is for real.

on ward ho

2007-03-08T10:23:00.000+06:00

off to Nepal I go!

a new day...

2007-02-28T12:55:00.000+06:00

Last week my good friend Emily came to visit. We had so much fun and it was great great great to see see see someone I've known for longer than 5 months. We did a fair amount of laughing and listening to our mutual favorite musical artists... We also did more touristy things. (if they can be called that--we only saw one other dude who looked like a tourist our whole time here)

It was good to see things in a new fresh light through her eyes.

She has put many good pictures on her blog. look to the right, click on "Em" (my internet is
s l o w--so go there to see what we did)

Life here is marching on. I am looking forward to next week when we go to Nepal for our MCC retreat. A few of us will stay there a bit longer and do some hiking in the himalayas as well. (not to brag or anything)

now on to the mission for my 3pm and 4pm classes. I think we are going to work on active and passive verbs. ya-hoo. How does one make that exciting?

Fog and Mission

2007-02-04T17:21:00.000+06:00

Bangladesh's winter produces beautiful early morning fog. This is looking out of Reba's flat.

One of the main rooms at the Mission. This is where I eat all my meals with the sisters...

Yesterday...

2007-02-04T17:04:00.000+06:00

Toby and I before the baking began. Who knows what we are talking about. Reba was stalking us with the camera again. I was being a good bengali sister, offering tea and buscuits to Reba and Toby.

the cookies are done, but convincing them to EAT them was another thing altogether. You must offer things at least 3 times in this culture, before they will take it! :)

My diligent students reading the ENGLISH paper while waiting for the cookies to come out of the oven

Yesterday was a good day. Much time was spent baking cookies at the Mission. Reba and Toby helped out and took some great pictures.... We made sugar cookies with icing and sprinkles. A new experience for the students and they appeared to have a great time.

Planning, Planning, what Planning ?!!?

2007-02-04T16:19:00.000+06:00

As most of you know, I prefer to take life as it comes and not over plan things. I do realize in some instances a bit of planning is necessary and with the right tools, i am capable, if not thrilled to use a calendar and the like. In Bangladesh, having a laid back personality goes a long way, but sometimes I still try my hand at planning, then realize a million reasons why it just makes no sense.

Case Study

Today: A friend from Dhaka was visiting, and it is my day off. I made plans to travel at 5pm by train to Dhaka tonight, so tomorrow I could meet some MCC guests at the airport tomorrow night.
-10am: I send someone to get the train tickets.

11am--He comes back. No trains today. I thought they ran like clockwork everyday at the same times. I say no problem I will just take the bus tonight.

11:09am--I talk with Nasima, a co worker. She tells me that there is a large Muslim gathering today and that I should not travel by bus tonight, because traffic will be very backed up getting into Dhaka. Okay, no problem, I will just take a bus tomorrow morning.

11:26-I tell my friend he is on his own with getting back to dhaka because I do not know when I will leave.

**Later on today some sisters and the aspirant sisters (my 16 year old students) were planning on dropping by the MCC office to see a presentation given by Reba, about MCC's Job Creation/ Handicraft program. We tell the office bearer to make enough tea for 16 people for this afternoon.

12:25--I take rickshaw back to Batikashor which is the name of the place where I stay (the Mission). I walk in after embarrassingly thinking the gate is locked and knock loudly a bunch of times disturbing the convent peace. I walk in, see Sr. Florence and ask her if she is planning on stopping by the office around 2. She has a sad look on her face. She told me that one of the Holy Cross Fathers has died suddenly in his sleep of a stroke, so they will not be coming this afternoon.

12:34-I hear that there will be Mass at 2pm, to grieve the loss and be together. I plan on attending.

1pm-I rush upstairs to my room, quickly do all my laundry because I am leaving for Dhaka tomorrow and want them to have some sun/afternoon drying time today so they will be ready for tomorrow.

1:30--I tell Reba not to plan on everyone for this afternoon, given the circumstances.

1:56-I am leaving my room and see Sr. Miriam, and ask her if she is going to Mass, and can I walk over to the church with her. She's going and we walk about 3 feet.

1:57-Sr. Shaki says that people coming from the late Priest's village have just left and will not be arriving for a few hours, thus postponing our 2pm Mass.

2:07--after much conversation about where I am going from all the sisters, I decide to go to the office b/c I left my lesson plans there, thinking I was coming back this afternoon.

2:30-On the phone with Ethel, making plans for our MCC guests. We talk through most details over the course of 4 phone calls. We have a place to stay (at a mission in SE Bangladesh). ah, good.

2:34-I call Darren for emotional support from all this planning.

3pm-Now that I am over on this side of town and I do not know the time of Mass, it looks doubtful that I will go.

3:09-Ethel calls again. Our lodging won't work out as planned. Will a hotel work?

3:30-I call Ethel, sure that sounds fine. We are discussing how I will pick up the guests (by taxi0 when she suddenly remembers that HER plans for tomorrow got cancelled, and since she lives in Dhaka, SHE can pick up the MCC guests (who by the way are fellow SALTers, coming to check out MCCB) and I can teach both of my classes tomorrow. (but I only PLANNED for one, of course.)

3:46: I definately will not get back to the Mission in time.

Now it's nearly 5pm....I will be going to the Health Gym instead of Dhaka, apparently. but really.....who knows.

Just another Weekend In Bangladesh

2007-01-28T10:23:00.000+06:00

A producer working with Jute fibers. To the right: Reba, Shingita (an MCC administrator) and I in our sharis, ready for the wedding....

Paper making below. These are super hot metal cannisters used to dry the paper. To the right a couple of the producers I met--one with her baby.

The bride (left) and the Groom (right) share their first look under this long towel. Can you imagine? To the right, the Priests and the groom say prayers and other marriage things.

Bride. looking gorgeous and oh so decorated. She had some attitude, which I found refreshing and fantastic. check out her Mahindi (henna).

This past weekend has been a good one. I first attended a wedding for a Co-worker's daughter in Fenney, a long journey south from Mymensingh. They are Hindu, so it was quite a new experience for me, and so fascinating. The wedding was still going on when we left at midnight! It is more than a "walk down the aisle, get married, run out and have the reception." First we ate a great meal (with vegetarian options, I was lucky this time), looked at the bride and groom who were on separate stages. Chatted amongst ourselves...and waited for the Hindu priests to name the "auspicious hour" when the couple would actually be married. Much ceremony, much decoration and really loud live music with about 4 kinds of drums.

The next day we (about 7 co-workers from Mymensingh) visited a paper project near Fenney. First we stopped for a nice breakfast of tea, pyrota (fried chapati), egg and dhal. Then we all took 2 CNGs (small go-kart/dune buggy/small taxi type transport that is everywhere here) to the project. It was my second trip to such a place, but my first trip was during orientation while I was very jet lagged, so this trip was much richer. I met some of the producers and chatted with them about their work, if they like what they do. They were telling me I should chew "pan"--a leaf with a betel nut inside that you chew sort of like chewing tobacco. I tried it once and don't think I will be trying it again as it made my mouth go numb and made me drool. It makes your teeth all red and they say it's "not good for the teeth" but so many people here really enjoy it, especially after meals.

After we saw the work, we were (of course) invited for tea and snacks. We had oranges, chana chur --kind of like chex mix, mishti, and other good cakes. We stood around and chatted, then were all surprised with a gift of a beautiful red, paper box made right there. The paper is gorgeous. If the srapbookers in North America only knew about this place, they'd be going crazy over it.

We departed by rickshaw, to the bus stand. Loaded up. and headed for Dhaka. About half way through our bus driver stopped for prayer and Bita, being the boldest Bengali woman I know rushed us across the street to use a stranger's toilet. I was very happy. Then we got back and I bought Samosas for everyone..but then I look and the bus is pulling away, honking! Who does this bus driver think he is? Also he thought the bus was actually a jeep and was off roading. I was super happy to get to Dhaka and be off his crazy bus. The busses are always kind of scary, but this one was execptionally scary.

The next day, Friday, we had to get ready for Robin's surprise birthday party. It all went off with almost no glitches and she was truly surprised. It was fun to hang out with people and to chat and be social. I love the sisters at the convent, but sometimes I need more of an outlet than the mission provides.

The weekend was also good because I heard some local live bengali musicians at Probortena. Probortena is an orgainzation that works for Women's rights here in Bangladesh. They have a cafe as well as sell beautiful fabric and clothes. If men want to go there, they must be accompanied by a woman! That is truly revolutionary in this culture. We listened to music, had fushka and drank lassis. Now I am winding down and getting ready to head back to Mymensingh by train, for another week of teaching....

Pictures

2007-01-21T16:34:00.000+06:00

Cultural dance. My students are going to teach me one... i am a liiiiittle nervous.

right outside my room. aloe vera plants that sister lourdes mary takes good care of. if i ever get burned i know where to go.

My room. very organized. in my own system, of course.
this is where I do my laundry. by hand.

i taught my students how to make bananna bread yesterday. they loved it. i think we will be baking every week from now on. they have never used an oven before, so it was really fun to show them how. (they are used to clay ovens w/ fire underneath)
baking. Sister Florence peels the bannanas.

L to R: Bashobi, Joba, Nandita, chandra, Nonjury, Amrita and Ruby. (sister florence, obviously)

sifting the rice. the rice is dried in the sun, and so lots of stones get in. This young woman lives at the mission--she is mute and deaf. The Sisters have taken her in so she has a job working in the kitchen and is not on the streets, begging. She always has a smile and we exchange non verbal greetings a few times a day. she's great.
view from one of the verandas outside my room. Laundry drying everywhere.

a collective birthday party.
my other veranda, right outside my room. this chair is especially good for guitar playing and newspaper reading. It overlooks 2 large gardens.

Mission

2007-01-20T12:40:00.000+06:00

I have been living at Holy Family Convent for over 3 months now, and am feeling more like a part of the community. I can't believe that I am at the 1/2 mark of my time here in Bangladesh...

Here are a few pictures. I would post more, but I am so hungry and about to go eat some Naan ruti. maybe dhal bhaat too..... the winter food here is good. winter veggies like carrots, cauliflower and beans are plentiful. Also pitas --- these pancake-like round good things that I buy off the street, fresh from a mud "oven."

sorry no pics.

another day maybe they will work.

O-K

2007-01-14T14:22:00.000+06:00

So, amidst my midslump meanderings about being bored, several very un boring things happened that made me realize that nothing here is really boring. I may be feeling bored, but really adventures and the unexpected still surprise me and the rest of the country apparently.

The very next day after my "I am bored" post these things happened.

1. I was traveling with Fellow MCCer Rebecca (who works in the Peace program) and her 15 month old daughter, Hannah, by rickshaw to the Dhaka bus stand. A car pulled out in front of us and another rickshaw hit us from behind, throwing both Rebecca and Hannah to the ground. Thankfully, Rebecca's hand protected Hannah's face and no serious injuries occured--we were just shaken up.

2. We got to the bus stand and realized we were going to have to wait for 2 hours. Ususally busses go every 1/2 hr at least from Mymensingh to Dhaka. There was going to be another road blockade so people were trying to get where they needed to be. The place was a mad house. To kill time we wandered through a Mymensingh slum (that I thought was going to be a very beautiful road to have a relaxing walk on--ooops..and when that got old quick we went on a rickshaw ride....

3. We fin-ally got on board, were traveling at a reasonable rate, our bus driver was not even honking that much, making for a time of good conversation with Rebecca. Hannah was sleeping. We are almost to Dhaka, when our bus driver stopped to let more people on the bus. Apparently he stopped somewhere he shouldn't have b/c the next thing we knew the police pulled him over (I didn't even know there were actual traffic laws or who enforced them) and asked for a drivers liscense or else be arrested. Well, our bus driver didn't have one, and got yanked off the bus, and arrested, right before all 60 passenger's eyes. Now we were on the side of the road with no bus driver. Awesome.

4. As it would go, we met a man who told us where the city bus stand was, to get us the rest of the way in to Dhaka. He helped us buy tickets etc. Now we are on the bus with terrible traffic, but still moving at least. As we got closer, Rebecca recognized where we were and suggested walking as a better way to get to our destination. So we hastily got off the bus, ran across 5 lanes of traffic to get to the road that would lead us to Asad Gate (our destination). It's dark by now.

5. As we are walking, with Hannah on my shoulders, I get a phone call from Ethel, the country representative, (our supervisor) saying that a curfew has been put in place and to get where we were going as soon as possible. She sounded serious, but didn't say why the curfew was being implemented as she knew we were still outside.

6. We finish walking down Parliment road, get to our flat, and Ethel calls again. She tells us that there is a Curfew because the Military has taken over and that Bangladesh has declared a "state of emergency." She tells us the President has resigned and that it looks very serious and to stay inside.

7. BBC news has tons of TV coverage about it. Today, things seem to be under a bit more control, but the situation is definately still shaky. Nobody really knows what will happen. The elections have been postponed until they can be arranged in a neutral way. We'll see if that happens and when it will happen.....

8. To top it all off on the return trip home we got a brick thrown through our train window. No injuries occured.

The end.

Back to work...

2007-01-11T11:45:00.000+06:00

I am very much back to teaching at the mission. It is going along just fine. I added another class for my beginners which will hopefully speed things up a little and give them more of a chance to practice speaking. I can tell they are improving and gaining confidence which is rewarding for them and me--I actually am helping them learn! The sisters are all back into their routines as well--teaching, working in the sewing center, taking care of the young girls who stay there. I feel very comfortable here in Mymensingh and at times a little bored! Can you believe that?! I am bored, living in Bangladesh, teaching English, living at a convent, riding rickshaws, getting myself into accidental situations because of language barriers.... I think it is just a little midway slump and the fact that Thailand was so great. I am sure things will pick up again and I will find myself in new adventures....like when my dear friend Emily Alsum comes for a visit in a month, and traveling to Nepal for our South Asia retreat (for all MCC workers in India, Bangladesh and Sri Lanka) as well as a trip to see the Taj Mahal and other wonders of India. Not to mention fun weekends in Dhaka, life with the Sisters and traveling around Bangladesh.

oh yeah, and I joined an all male, muslim gym the other day. More stories to come about that. HA!

2007-01-01T20:37:00.000+06:00

Isaac, Robin, Me, Reba, Toby..dancing...22 minutes till 2007!
Downtown Bangkok....all the parties there got cancelled though because of the bombings. We walked through, b/c our original plan was to be there, but it was so empty, police everywhere, no festivities of any kind.

Tourists unite! Robin, Reba and I....
New Years eve...got my dancin' shoes on.

yes. we were tourists and somehow got talked into riding this hideous bus for 5 1/2 hrs from Ko Chang to Bangkok. looks like it is straight out of austin powers, eh? the inside was worse. Bright red leather everywhere with lacy curtains.
palace in bangkok

view from our "long beach, the last lost paradise"..we looked at this every day while on the island of Ko Chang, south of Bangkok. Georgeous, warm for swimming and not too hot. Waking up and drinking Thai coffee (strong coffee w/ sweetened condensed milk) on the deck overlooking the ocean was so great. I needed to be in an untouched, wild place, open.......no development..... no people. we slept in rustic bungalows, no electricity, showers down the way a bit...hippie heaven this was. We (like 20 people) got trucked in from a more populated place on the island--the road to get to this place has not been built so we did a bit of off roading to get to it; fantastic.
the Thai flag, and our 2nd snorkling spot. We took a boat with other snorklers to a couple different places. <<<<>>>>>

PS. I am in love with snorkling. the fish and coral were absolutely amazing and I really want to do more of this sport. I think I want to eventually try diving as well. the world underneath the surface is beautiful.

Thai cultural dress. this was taken in Chiang Mai--this woman was actually in our group, and paid to wear the clothes for a bit.
Ruins. lots of ruins here in Thailand.

So, yes. thailand was great. a bit touristy, but overall just the break I needed. Tomorrow we head home to Bangladesh.

Goodbye Thailand..

safe and sound

2007-01-01T10:18:00.001+06:00

no worries, there were bombs here in bangkok, but I am fine.

Happy 2007!

Merry Christmas from Thailand

2006-12-25T11:46:00.000+06:00

Not all who wander are lost. ah, a good one for you fellow wanderers out there.

I decided to go to Thailand after realizing that the mission where I stay is going to be completely empty, and void of merry making for the holidays. One of the best decisions yet.

We arrived in Bangkok and took a train straightaway overnight to get to Chiang Mai. It's so relaxing, peaceful, and cool. We've done some sight seeing, including lots of Buddhist temples and markets as well as wandering the streets taking things as they come, as well as eating great Thai food.

Today is Christmas--it does not really feel like it, but that is not a bad thing for me...life is pretty good here. It is very weird to be in a developed country. very. very. weird. I keep thinking i will trip on the sidewalks or step in a pile of cow shit or get yelled and harassed to come into someone's store...but so far the Thai people are happy, peaceful, quiet, and tidy. one could even say efficient. it's such a contrast coming from Bangladesh. I think that we are enjoying it more than the average foreigner here..('wheat bread! what?! this place is amazing!') We are doing the touristy things, which normally might get annoying to me, but it just feels so nice to have things catered to me...so I am just enjoying it. and the good coffee. We are heading back to Bangkok tomorrow via train and then will see where the wind blows us for the remainder of the trip......

Merry Christmas!

Thanchi

2006-12-14T12:21:00.000+06:00

Yes. I did get to go to Thanchi. We ended up leaving a day later because of the Dhaka blockade, but then had to change our plans because of another hartel in a city we were to travel through. We did eventually make it there though. Thanchi is near the Burma border. It is one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. It has endless mountains, misty, cold mornings but hot days. Tropical trees along with thick underbrush covers the stone that makes up the mountains that surround the village of Thanchi. Once we arrived we got out of the pickup that carried mosquito nets, towels and blankets for the mission.

We walked down some mud stairs, to the right along a river. Two youngish boys insisted on carrying my backpack. We all had to get into a canoe ish looking boat to cross the river where the village presumably was. After crossing, we walked another mile or so through various stalls of food and tea. Of course I got incredulous looks and stares , as usual---"what is a white, blonde girl doing in the hills of Thanchi?" (it is always worse in the villages b/c I may be the only white person they have ever seen or will ever see)

It felt great to walk and stretch after a very long day in the truck, bouncing through barely paved, curvy mountain roads. We finally reached the mission where we were served tea and buscuits (cookies for you americans). As I looked around I was in awe of the fresh, unpolluted water in the streams, the sun shining off the mountains and the open space, with NO PEOPLE. I have grown accustomed to the crowds in Mymensingh and Dhaka, so it was a shock when it was completely silent, and there were not millions of people roaming around.

I took a nap, woke and explored the area a little. Dinner was served as the sun was setting and conversation lasted until it was time for a cultural program. We were ushered into a large hut made out of woven jute fibers where the girls stayed while they attended the mission school. I was given the place of honor at the front of the room, along with Phoebe and Bari other MCC workers. The girls sat to my right on a raised platform (that became their bed at nightfall) and the boys sat to my left. They looked curiously at me and sang a welcome song for us. Many dances and songs followed along with a gift of a long piece of material which I am today wearing as a skirt.

We got up very early the next morning to start for Rangamati, where we were to have lunch at another Mission. The rooster crowed (much to my angry dismay ALL NIGHT) so morning was a welcomed surprise. It was so cold! I was wearing my orange salwar kameeze with socks and sandals, a sweater and a wool shawl. Mist was coming down and the mountains were barely visible in the distance. It reminded me alot of Portland, Oregon weather. So beautiful. Shundor.

We backtracked, took the boat across and finally reached our truck. The boy who carried my backpack insisted on kissing my feet, a sign of respect for elders. We loaded up and waved goodbye to our new friends.

give 'em what they want

2006-12-04T14:54:00.000+06:00

So, you all seem to like pictures, and I have time...so here ya go.
Last week I visited Noluakuri, a small town/village between Mymensingh and Dhaka with Sister Francis to visit another convent there. This is one of their vegetable gardens. All the gardens are so beautiful and well kept.
Ah, trees.

Reba and I were taking Rickshaw and came upon this AIDS day procession. (on dec. 2nd, and as Reba said, "leave it to Bangladesh to be a day late to celebrate World AIDS day) We DID see other processions on the actual day too...with a horse drawn carriage, special hats. The women wore T-Shirts over their Salwar Kameezes.
Left, more procession. Soon after I took this picture we decided to walk, the traffic (as you can see) was so bad.

Reba, Toby at the American Club. Notice the Christmas tree in the background. That was my first Christmas tree sighting. At the American Club I have culture shock. But in a good way.
Reba, Toby, me. We watched a couple episodes of "Family Guy"....super funny. Notice our awesome shawls. Also notice that I am nearly drowning in mine, but I love it.

Mosiac from Sundergarden
My students and I being ridiculous

(I'm currently listening to Alicia Keys, drinking cha, using the computer; this is the most like my former life that I have come in a while, minus the cha and add strong, freshly ground and brewed coffee; not that I miss it or anything)

Dhaka and Aboroad

2006-12-03T15:11:00.000+06:00

My Students: aspirtant sisters the current sisters

The beginning of my work week has commenced pretty well. MCC follows a Muslim calendar so Friday and Saturday are the weekend and Sunday the first day of the work week. It's a bit different for me because I work at the convent and their holiday is 1/2 day friday and all day Sunday. (not very conducive to traveling on the weekend, but they are flexible with me). I came to Dhaka on Thursday, it was all very uneventful, even though it was my first time traveling alone from Mymensingh to Dhaka. I still crack up when my rickshaw pulls up to the bus stand and all these different men who work for the different busses come and STORM up to me, "Sister Sister, this way---here here!!!!!" they are SURE I want to take their bus, to their city! HA. HA.

It's been a bit of a whirlwind, as Dhaka can be. A city of 15 million; endless markets, food stalls, people, rickshaws, animals everywhere. We ate out at some great restaurants--a Korean place, Thai, as well as a newly opened Mexican Restaurant (actually it was Mex Ind--which I am assuming is mexican indian)..it was sssuuuuper fancy and terribly decorated, the food was pretty good though. The atmosphere sort of weirded me out though, very formal, the waiters even put our napkins on our laps for us. We were envisioning a Mexican restaurant where it is sort of dark and grungy, mexican music plays loudly, you get tons of free chips and salsa and drink giant Margaritas. Instead we had waiters with terrible haircuts, hovering over us, while listening to terrible American love songs from the early 90s.

We hit up a couple of cafe's where I drank good coffee and ate good healthy food. mmmm. I am excited for the days when I can eat yogurt on a daily basis again. (it's gonna be a few months yet though I guess) It's been fun to meet up with friends, do a bit of shopping--I found a beautiful new shari (yes "sh" not just "s") and shawl. We also attended the expat choir concert which provided the Christmas music that could accompany my thoughts about Christmas lately. There are no Christmas decorations, no malls jammed with shoppers, no red and green, no giant evergreen trees. In some ways this feels good, to get away from all that materialism, but I do crave some sort of signal that Christmas is coming.

After the we went to Jerry and Ethel's for a good dinner of sloppy joes and baked beans! (those of you who know my obsession with beans will be thrilled to know that I could eat as many as I wanted. That should last for a while until I come to Dhaka again...beans are not really eaten much here) Oh, and Chocoalte--good dark chocolate. We then whipped out the Hymnals and sang carols together, which of course I loved.

I am scheduled to go to Thanchi (southeast B'desh, near the Myanmar border) on Tuesday morning, but it is uncertain if I will go or not because of the political situation. Today there is and Aboroad or "blockade." So if the aboroad is not lifted by Tuesday I will not be going, but will be stuck here in Dhaka. It is inconvenient for everyeone--nobody can plan even 6 hours in advance b/c we never know what the opposing parties will do next. For you North Americans I bet it is hard to think about not planning or scheduling....I am getting accustomed to it; but it is really inconvenient for people working...or running a country. This place is sure full of crazy extremes.

Between Peace and Consolation

2006-11-28T14:25:00.000+06:00

Today as I ate my lunch of rice, cooked spinach, dal, and potatoes with my hands, I asked the woman to my right, a visitor, what her name was. Turns out it is "consolation" and the woman on my left is "peace." So, today while eating lunch, I mystically sat somewhere between Peace and Consolation. I started giggling pretty hard when I realized this, and the sisters started giggling as well. Divine words and ordinary situations blended into divine laughter. or so I think.

Look Mom! My First Sari

2006-11-22T15:28:00.000+06:00

It's true, I am growing up--check out my new sari. Sari's are worn for special occasions, weddings, and various government holidays...and at work they can be sort of like a business suit if you have a special presentation....

My Sari occasion (who REALLY needs an occasion anyways?) was for my " Feast Day." From what I gather, when you become a sister/nun, you stop celebrating the day of your birthday and start celebrating a Saint's day. So, my name is Cicely, right, and I was named after St. Cecilia (a patron saint of music)...and November 22 is St. Cecilia's day. So TODAY is my Feast day.

I arrived at the Mission after sleeping at Reba's house. (She had to put me in the sari, it is quite the operation to get it on!) The sisters greeted me with singing "happy feast day to you" and "the Lord Bless you" and other happy sounding songs. They all then handed me sweet smelling flowers and kissed both of my cheeks. It was a little awkward, sort of like hugging can be (do we know eachother well enough to hug or not??) but in the end it was all fine and dandy and I felt really celebrated. Next I walked into my class, and there was more singing and kissing and dancing and they even bought me a new pair of earrings. (they must know earings are my weakness, I wear a new pair everyday it seems.) They said, "we don't have much to give you, but we give you our love" it was super sweet.

Then we practiced vocabulary. I am such a teacher.

Some Pictures of the last few weeks

2006-11-21T15:14:00.000+06:00

2 words: SISTER ACT.

Me, Shilpi at Sungarden (I think that is the name) An area outside Dhaka, with all sort sorts of pre British architecture...We had a holiday so we did a bit of sight seeing--it was nice to see other Bangladeshis taking pictures, and not just me!

We were going to go to the museum, but alas, it was closed. So we ate some puska instead.. it is becoming my favorite snack here. They have a fried outter shell with mashed lentils, chilli, and other curry spices on the inside. you pour a vinigar and spice mixture over them. mmmm.
soooo good.

UPPER LEFT: me, trying to open a nice, WELL TAPED letter from dear friend Alaina. I had to get out the big guns to do it. It was so artistic though! it even had a dried flower in scotch tape heaven. The beauty of snail mail in Bangladesh is that I get a BUNCH at a time, because it gets sent to Dhaka first and eventually makes it's way to Mymensingh....it was soooo fun to open letters--all at once, it is better than the feeling of Christmas morning when I was 5!

Teaching is going well, even though ambiguous. I know english, yes. I think I know how to teach it, but it is so hard to judge what they already know and need to work on. Today, with the beginner class we went on a "vocabulary walk" it fun to see them learning a new way for saying something they see everyday.

Now I must go, take rickshaw back to the Mission and give and the rest of my english assessment test.

Happy Thanksgiving to you Americans out there............

Sister Act?

2006-11-15T14:54:00.000+06:00

Some of you know that I have had a sister act fantasy in anticipation for moving to the convent. Call me Whoopi, and I have not been disappointed. The sisters are kind, loving,helpful and crazy hospitable, yes, but also are FAN tastic and really interesting...and things have just begun. In the mornings I watch BBC world with Sister Francis, the oldest sister. It seems like since she is old she can pretty much do as she wishes--(the other sisters are all very busy with duties and teaching;) she watches the TV with dark glasses, her vision is not good; she talks with me about politics, loves maps and geography and today was asking me all about "sky scrapers" She is quirky, kind, and has a way of making you feel at ease. She has a sing songy voice that makes the other sisters giggle under their breath in amusement.

Then we have sister Shanti. (Shanti means Peace in Bangla). She is in charge and very conciencious. She is responsible and kind and strong...and there is a glint of sarcasm behind this trustworthy facade....I just know it.

Sister Florence is middle aged and eager for me to teach her aspirant sisters (girls who will someday be sisters) english and to learn more english herself. She loves music and collects intstruments.

Sister Rosy is full of energy and expresses her style through her shoes and personality. She is kind, and will be the headmistress of the school someday; she has done a very good job welcoming me to the convent--a mix of letting me get my own tea and showing me how to do things and serving me. (it is REALLY hard for the sisters to let me get things for myself...they are sooooo eager to help..which can be frustrating when I just want to get something in a hurry)

Sister Meeta is on the verge of giggling constantly and is always smiling. She's maybe 22 or 23, I do not know. She is absolutely beautiful. She is very eager to help me and insists on doing so. Her eyes are always reading between the lines of the given situation. When I speak better bangla I will hopefully get to ask her more about what she is thinking.

Yesterday, we had a group discussion over lunch (all 19 sisters) about whether I should wear mascara or not. (sister shanti said i shouldn't b/c it will be a temptation for the other sisters). I told them that for special occasions I will wear makeup, but not everyday. My "feast day" or St. Cecilia's day is coming up on November 22nd...I am going to wear a sari and maybe mascara for the occasion--they were all eager to hear that, while insisting that I was beautiful without makeup.

So far, I am mingling some, doing my own thing at times and trying to get a feel for their common life; living at the convent is definately on the top of my "interesting life experiences" list.

And it continues....

PEACE.

((((((if you are interested in more pictures or updates on politics, read REBA's blog--the link is on the Right of my page)))))) and from Reba's you can see TOBYS which has pics of the latest protests.

New Scenery

2006-11-13T13:45:00.000+06:00

I've officially moved and started my work at the Holy Family Convent. That's right, I live at a convent. Me. Lots of Sisters. Contemplative life. 6am Mass. Gardens. Quiet. Beautiful.

I actually moved in a week ago, but was barely there because of a trip to Dhaka and our MCC expat Thanksgiving last week. (which by the way was A-mazing--we had so much good, non bengali food, only Thanksgiving food and it was such a treat!) Darren and Phillip killed 2 ducks for the occasion....

Today I taught my first group of students. I walked in, they stood up and greeted me with "Good morning madam" and proceeded to sing me a welcome song in Bangla....then one student named Ruby came to the front, kissed my hand and handed me a Peace Lily. It was all very sweet and set the mood to begin our work together. I began with basic get to know you things and introductions, and they all told me about their favorite color, food, mother's name, father's name and lastly, Why they want to learn English. It was interesting to hear. It seems like many students do not think critically about the "whys" of what they are doing....memorizing and test taking is big here...I hope to teach in a way that will encourage thinking and self expression. We also learned body parts and singular verses plural. Making the "p" sound was a challenge.

It was interesting for me to teach in a casual way, while the students are very used to standing when reading an answer and other formalities. I know it will work itself out, and eventually they will be less confused when I keep telling them "bosho" (sit) when they give an answer. Tomorrow we are focusing on vowels and phonetics. It is hard to figure out where to begin, what to teach when and how to judge comprehension. I will just go with the flow as that is how most things go here, and gradually begin to know the student's needs. I am excited to get to know this group of young women, they are so happy to learn. Curious and giggly too.

This afternoon I will be teaching another class of mostly spoken english, focusing on pronunciation; this group of sisters are newer sisters (the first group are "aspirant" sisters and are about 16 years old) Again, I have a few things prepared, but we'll see how it goes and what they need and want to learn. Bangladesh fits my personality in situations like these. :)

Politically things are unstable here. Road Blockades. Processions...although Mymensingh has been very quiet. (or maybe i have no idea because I live at a convent!) The caretaker government did not meet the 11 demands and so the other party is blocking roads and "stockpiling sticks" to let them know it is not okay. I am a little out of the loop with what is actually going on today, I should go and find "The Daily Star" (the English version of the paper).

It is getting cooler here! Much more liveable. Today is about 80 and sunny, with a breeze. It is hard to believe that in Michigan it is chilly, the leaves are gone and everyone is gearing up for winter. I had to use a slightly heavier blanket while sleeping last night--what a change from sweating every night. I hear the next 4 months will be much like today.

A cute story: Last night Reba and I were running back and forth in an open area by the school, on the convent compound, in an attempt to get some exercise (it is really hard to find ways to work out here). We look over and there are about 10 little girls aged about 9 or so watching and whispering...we invited them to come and run with us...we ran races with them, I led some stretches and jumping jacks and a super fun game of follow the leader... it was a blast and by the end I was tired and felt like I had gotten a good work out...hooray for recreation and play...

life is good here in the banglarang.

Pictures from the Mission

2006-11-06T15:07:00.000+06:00

moved to the mission yesterday; The girls who live there gave me and one other visitor from France a warm welcome with singing and dancing. Here are a few pictures from Friday night.

Reba and I at the MCC office today...in our salwar kameez

Bangladesh in the news

2006-11-01T14:12:00.000+06:00

Today is a seemingly normal day here in Bangladesh. Horns have resumed their honking after a few days of one political party blocking all the roads going in and out of the cities, stranding travelers everywhere. BBC has some good coverage of what is going on, if you are interested. November 3, Friday, is sort of a day of reckoning; the AL party has made demands of the caretaker president and these demands must be met or more blockades, hartels (strikes), and violence could errupt. These are unusual days; I am fine, get regular updates from MCC local staff about what I should and should not do etc etc. (((( don't worry about me.))))

Hopefully I will move to the Mission on Saturday, get settled in, meet all the sisters and the children. This may or may not happen, depending on the political situation. I am both excited to move and have a change of pace, and also not looking forward to the transition. But I do know that lots of adventures and very cute and curious children await me at the mission. I won't actually start my teaching job until I've been hanging around the mission for a week, giving me some time to adjust, observe their schedule, let them get used to me etc etc. I hear that my room is ready and they are eager for me to come. That's as as good of a sign as any I guess.

Today I did a bit of block painting; I am excited to do more; I've also decided to buy a better guitar here. Let's be honest, the one we found here sucks. big time. So, maybe this week I will be able to get a new one. (and by the way everyone here has "GIVESONS" ...definately not Gibsons!) hahha. There are so many funny ironic signs and brands here...someday maybe I will create a list.

When is the last time...

2006-10-28T16:26:00.000+06:00

You were in a country with no government?

read about it here:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/south_asia/5400784.stm

It is a bit crazy. Some are worried about a civil war....

side note: don't worry about me. In Mymensingh it has been pretty quiet. The only thing that has happened is that Darren and I couldn't go to Piergatcha for the Harvest Festival b/c no busses are running... instead we went around visiting our different friends places, drinking cha and gossipping about the political situation. not a terrible way to spend a hartel (strike) day. Tomorrow is the official hartel day....it will be interesting to see what happens. there is sort of an air of anticipation around. at least for me.... some are worried, some not.

Also, on the news today people were rioting in Dhaka...throwing ROCKS...beating things with STICKS....a bit crazy and irrational. I am not sure that doing the above things will bring about change. What will bring about change? That is the question. and Who is asking it is another question.

Read about it on BBC and let me know what you think....

Sundarbans pictures

2006-10-26T11:12:00.000+06:00

early morning light in Kulna

Me, Shilpi, Toby

Reba and I

Tigers, Shooting Stars and the Bay of Bengal

2006-10-23T11:15:00.000+06:00

It's Monday and I am back in Dhaka, feeling refreshed after a good night of sleep. I realized that I spent so much time staying up late on the boat, losing track of how many shooting stars I had seen that I was a bit sleep deprived. One night we slept on the bow of the boat, fell asleep to the stars and woke up to the sunrise, near the Bay of Bengal.

Another day, drifting down the river we stopped and went on a treck through the Mangrove forest. It was a-mazing. No people, no pollution. Only lots and lots of small sea crabs scattering with each step in the mud. The mud was thick, clayish and very very wet. I ended up going barefoot, as even my Chacos were not up for the battle of staying on my feet. We saw lots of animal prints, but none made me as excited as the TIGER paw prints. Fresh. There was a tiger watching us. And as much as I did really want to see a tiger, I did not want to meet it there. We had armed guards with us, and even they were getting a bit nervous, starting to make loud coughing noises and telling us to stay together. We smelled where the tiger had marked it's territory. The treck ended near a place where the British used to "harvest" salt. There were thousands of clay pots and pot pieces that were once used to collect the salt from the sea and would be sent other places to be sold.

Most days were spent lazily waking up, drinking cha, chatting with new friends, and relaxing as the boat went down the river towards the sea. I even had the luxury of starting and finishing "The Kite Runner." One morning we all woke up with the sun, and took a small boat down a channel, to see wildlife. I didn't see any wildlife, but it was a nice boat ride.

One of my favorite times was spent having a Hymn Sing. The funny part is that we only had one hymnal for 12 people, so the words came out jumbled at times. People lost interest, after a little while because of the lack of hymnals perhaps, or perhaps because the crew on board was looking at us a bit funny. So about 4 of us remained. We decided that we MUST learn a new hymn. "Love Came Down at Christmas" was selected somehow. We spent a loooong time, determined to learn all the parts, get the rhythm right (we even clapped it out) and sang until our voices were raspy. We now know the song perrrrfectly though. Nerdy? yes. Fun? yes.

One day we took a hike with the promise of it ending up with a swim at the Bay of Bengal. It was a hot late morning and as I looked around I realized that Tigers could be watching us. It's not everyday in NA that you take a hike and think about that. Once I heard the wooshing of the waves and saw the beach grass I got really excited. Then the view opened up and there in front of us was the Bay of Bengal. A wide, remote beach. No one else was around. Fan-tastic.
We swam and floated and played a shaky game of Marco Polo, becase I wanted to. We rode the waves, although they were pretty weak. Mmmmmm.....

Last night was a good good ending to our great week. Just our MCC group ate at a super nice Indian restaurant--all sorts of yummy food. We accidently ordered enough Naan to feed an army.

Now we are back, I am going to find an Eid gift for my host family. (Eid is sort of like our Christmas). Taking the bus back will be interesting. It has been compared to traveling on the day before Thanksgiving in the states. I am preparing to be squished in with sweaty men all around me--that way if it is not that way I will be pleasantly surprised.

I'll post some pictures later on.

Dr. Yunus wins the Nobel Peace Prize!

2006-10-17T18:52:00.000+06:00

So, it's true, one of their very own has finally been recognized for starting the Grameen Bank three decades ago. I am by no means an expert on micro credit or the Grameen Bank, but I do know a few things:
1. People here are celebrating like its 1999. I was reading the letters to the editor today and so many people from students to old people, villagers to city dwellers were writing to say how happy, proud, thankful they were for Dr. Yunus. Much of the paper contained full page pictures of him, saying how proud (x company) was of him.
2. Now Bangladesh will not only be known for being the most corrupt country. (some study came out recently saying that)
3. This seems like a needed morale boost (and maybe? a motivation to try new ways of solving problems?)-- people here are smart and they also live in a place with many adverse conditions. There is an election coming up, which has produced many hartels (strikes) with violence, garment workers are striking...maybe Dr. Yunus can cast a vision for what is possible here in Bangladesh...or inspire change in a small way...

A Good One

2006-10-14T12:55:00.000+06:00

"You are so young. You have so many beginnings. I beg of you, dear
friend, as well as I can, to have patience with all that is unsolved
in your heart. Love the questions themselves like locked rooms, like
books written in a very foreign tongue. Do not ask for the answers
now, for they cannot be given to you: You could not live them. And
the point is to LIVE EVERYTHING. Live the questions now. And perhaps
one day, gradually, without even noticing it, you will live along some
distant day into the answers"

Ranier Marie Rilke

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

2006-10-11T12:52:00.000+06:00

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

-----------------
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"---
---
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.

Red Beans and Rice

2006-10-08T13:43:00.000+06:00

Yes. I made Red beans and Rice a couple of days ago. Alaina and Ameris would be very proud, especially considering the circumstances. But I prevailed (and conquered, I might add)

First off, there are NO BEANS in Mymensingh. Now, for a vegetarian like me who has eaten beans of some sort every day for the last 2 years for protein and their excellent fiber content this is a problem in more ways than one. (I will not go into the more ways than one) But anyway,they don't really eat beans here. SO, when we were in Dhaka last weekend my heart leapt for joy when I saw a whole shelf of canned kidney beans!" hooray" I said to myself. "la la la" I silently sang as I also found canned tomoatoes! they don't really do a whole lot with tomotoes here either, except for put them in a cucumber/tomato salad....so I was geeked, (so geeked) when I found two of my favorite cooking items: beans and tomatoes..even though it meant carrying heavy cans on rickshaws, on the bus and everywhere. I didn't care that they weighed the same as a small child. I had beans and tomatoes. mmm.

Two nights ago, I was feeling the cooking vibe and decided to make red beans and rice. for a few reasons. 1. I had red beans. 2. I wanted to use rice in a different way besides with dal. and 3. I wanted to cook as I haven't cooked in like 2 months and miss it.

Side note: people here cook in the afternoon because it is light and then eat really late at night. They never cook right before they are going to eat. (the story below proves that I am still very american and spoiled with constant electricity)

Well, it was about 6pm and I was getting hungry. Reba left the house and I was going to listen to music, and cook and relax and pretend I had some red wine to go along with the mood I was feeling. It all went south quick when the power went off. I am getting used to this since it happens at least 2 times a day, but I was hoping for some light so I could cut my onions quickly and not accidently chop off my fingernail into the mix. So, I got the flashlight, cut up the onions, which made me weep they were so strong. then the flashlight died. Then I started sweating because the fans were not working because the power was not working (no fans to circulate air). The breeze I was feeling from the window had vanished as well, making the room sort of like a sauna at the YMCA. I would not be defeated. I fumbled around in the dark, found a candle and proceeded to cut up the rest of the onions by candle light. (I forgot to mention that as I was looking for a cutting board I discovered a family of cockroaches in the corner, so I decided against the cutting board and used a plate instead).

On to opening the cans of beans (that have more meaning than ever before--kidney beans shouldn't have this much meaning or significance, should they?). Hmm. Since they don't really use cans alot here there are no can openers. This happened to me once on a camp out at Camp Roger....I used a rock and a knife to cut the can open. This time I used a bottle opener, and it took so much effort to pry the lids off that I was sweating profusly by this point. (((In the midst of this moment I actually looked around, thought about where I was and what I was doing and was sort of amused and sort of ready to throw in the towel.))) But I am stubborn, so for the next 1/2 hour I pryed open those darned cans. So now, I have onions that are turning brown and that the ants have decided to investigate and 2 pryed open cans that are BARELY openend enoughto squeeze out the content. I am finally ready to cook this shin dig up.
( on and by the way, ants are a low priority problem, they are everywhere and only sometimes bite)

I take the candle into the kitchen, light the gas burner, put the onions, oil and tomatoes into the pan....mmmmm....add the beans, mmmmm....add too much rice....have to pry open another can of beans to make up for the extra rice.....so now the onions are shrinking. I need to cut up more onions. I turn off the burner. cut up more onions. light the stove again. I add what I thought was chilli powder. It turns out to be paprika. so now I have red beans and rice with a paprika flava. "that's alright with me, paprika is good in its own way." I tried to console myself in the hot dark kitchen. Who was I kidding. this was going to be the worst best red beans and rice ever. Worst because I thought the flavor would never be right and best because I was determined to enjoy it even if it tasted terrible. I added basil. (why not?)

Now the rice was crunchy, so I added more and more water "as needed." I was losing confidence-did I even know how to cook? who am I ? what am I doing in Banglarang anyways?

at that low moment the power went back on." boo ya." I said to myself in the hot kitchen. Now I could actually see what was in the pot. You will never guess. It looked like red beans and rice. and also it tasted like red beans and rice. it just was a monsterous amount that we are still eating, but it was actually gooooooooood. I cleaned up my huge mess that I had made in the dark, and pretended that I had it all under control the entire time. success.

the end.

Cicely, storyteller extrodinaire.

more pictures

2006-10-03T12:28:00.000+06:00

the balcony of my dreams. on clear nights we watch the sunset and if the power is out it is a good place to catch a breeze and is a much cooler alternative to roasting inside. lately we have been eating Iftar out there. oh, and you can see stars. but i haven't even found the big dipper yet.

Iftar: good food eaten at sunset during ramadan.

Above: me and some new friends at the jail I accidently found on a walk one day. It looked so peaceful-it had a nice pond with ducks, palm trees surrounding it... I asked the guard outside what it was, they said "jail" and I asked if I could go in. and I did....and we drank cha and ate biscuits together. It was one of the first times I felt like I wasn't simply taking from this place. They wanted a visitor and I could give them that. a reciprocal interaction. I plan to go back and talk with them again, once my bangla improves. or even if it doesn't. ;)

Dhaka Dhaka Dhaka

2006-10-02T13:39:00.000+06:00

A serene piece of Bangladesh I found on a walk one day.
Roadside fruit. everywhere.

Me, Reba, Robin at coffee world. I had a straight up double espresso to make up for lost time. mmmmm. it was so gooooood. And I found whole bean coffee in Dhaka! I can have my addiction back. Life is better with coffee in it. ;)
I went to Dhaka this past weekend...found some blue jeans--for 450 taka, about 7 dollars, bought a couple more salwar kamiz, ate mexican food, ate ice cream, ate chinese, ate ate ate all the good food that the big city has to offer! :) In NA I love cities for the atmosphere, the cool pubs, the coffee shops, the greasy spoons, the parks, the people; here it seems like I love cities because I can eat things I never get to eat and buy things like kidney beans that are only available in Dhaka. It is certainly a very different way of thinking about cities. The above picture is of New Market. Crowds Crowds--and hungry ones b/c it is ramadan and everyone is fasting...shopping made me exhausted, but we did see some great handicraft places, some of which MCC partners with. I bought and orna, and am super excited b/c I am going to have my tailor make it into a br shirt. I never thought I'd be excited about an orna. (reminder: the orna is the ANNOYING piece of cloth that goes around my neck, to cover my chest, for modesty's sake, going out with no orna means you are a loose loose woman)

Shopping here is a mixed bag. I felt like I was being thrifty, and felt like I was treating myself to things I haven't had for a long time...but then here we are, making rickshaw wallahs drive us around, to our fancy shops for like 15 cents. I am super excited to find dark chocolate, then there is a begger right there outside the store--do I share? do I walk right on by? do I just not eat it infront of them? it is not like beggars and poverty do not exist in the US, there are lots of similarities here and there, similar questions are coming to mind in terms of what is the right way to go about handling these situations. And again it is hard to be continously compassionate. Especially when I am frustrated at the amounts of STARES and blobs of english that get thrown my way daily as I just walk down the street. It is up and down. Each situation brings a different reaction. I am thankful for the chance to continue to think about these questions, hopefully from a new angle, even though I know that they will always remain.

Coconuts and Ramadan

2006-09-27T19:52:00.000+06:00

Yesterday I was walking out of my house to the MCC office when the guard started yelling, "na, na!" (no, no!!) I had noticed some coconuts laying around, but didn't think much of that...then I looked up. Riiiight above me was a man with a very thin rope tied around him, shimming up the palm tree, about to cut off the coconuts. that was a close one.

Later that night Kakon served Reba, Darren and I fresh coconut water, from those very coconuts. It is a strange thick nectar/water taste. I think it is growing on me. It is also good for treating dehydration. (right now the coconut water reminds me of my first weekend here when I was SO sick, so I am hoping to overcome that negative association)

It's ramadan, so everyone is fasting all day. For an entire month. Not one iota of anything can pass through their mouths. No water, no teeth brushing etc etc....until the sun sets. It's great for me because I am not fasting and I get to participate in Iftar (the breaking of the fast) which means all kinds of special foods (of course ddddeeeeeepppppp fried), sweets (mishti), and mango juice. So I get to eat normally all day and have Iftar for dinner. At about 5:30 there is a bustle around the city, all the small shops have iftar waiting.

Nothing and lots of things

2006-09-26T13:39:00.000+06:00

I've been here in Mymensingh a month. It would appear to be the same as before but it is not the same. I have a couple of small daily committments: learning bangla and practicing bangla. The rest of my time goes to relaxing via music, reading, laughing, talking, making stuff and pondering lots of things or going to the MCC office to read the newspaper and drink tea. (and distract Reba, who actually has work to do) Or I stop by Darren's place or wander around Mymensingh. It feels pretty normal to do these things, I am at home here. Whatever home means, I am feeling it today.

I am not quite so exhausted at the end of each day from the outpouring of emotional energy it takes to be new and to have my world turned upside down. I am learning what I need and how to make that happen, or to be okay with things just spilling out and accepting fact that I am not in control. It is amazing how much more I understand international students at Calvin or immigrants of any sort coming to a new land to establish a home. I know and I have no idea.

Some days here I wish I was back home reminiscing about Bangladesh and not actually still living here, and other days I forget that this is not how my life always was. Somedays the staring and comments leave me hostile, other days I have patience and realize they are just curious....some days I need to get away, retreat and can't find a place, other days I don't notice the million people that are in Mymensingh. Some days I notice the beggars, other days I am too focused on not getting attention that I do not even see them. Other days I have an outpouring of empathy and emotion for the girl without legs begging for food right on my way to my bangla lesson.... Sometimes this place feels so old and foreign, and today it feels like any city I know in NA would: noisy, honking, pollution, people, poverty, beauty, laughter, smoking, food, fun, antics waiting to happen....(there just are not any houses with great front porches on which to listen to the rain)

For sure, being here is not what I expectected, but I do not want my expectations to dictate how the year will go.

Small things

2006-09-20T17:58:00.000+06:00

It is very easy for me to tell you all the crazy things, the blur that was my first experience of Bangladesh. I am beginning to notice and appreciate the small things now, which makes me happy.

A list of my favorite, unnoticed (at first) things here in Bangladesh, in no particular order of importance: (could that be anymore wordy??)
-people take showers in the rain, even in cities.
-small lizards are everywhere and are cute and zippy
-a cup of tea is the solution for most things. stressed? Have some cha. teary? have some cha. sweating? here have some hot cha to make you hotter
-palm trees
-the Mandhi people--from a tribe up north are kind--treat me better and with more respect that the general population on the street who only blast their 4 english words at me.
-eating with my hand (only the right one)--this makes eating truly a 5 senses experience
(okay, maybe not hearing)
-the lightning fills the sky all around
-stargazing
-Taize, a community of monks and boys in their late teens and early 20s-creates space and sometimes peace in my life. Prayers are 3 times a day. I go about 3 times a week and then share a simple meal of curried veggies and rice.
-the river in the evening
-people sing alot here and ask me "sing please, you"
-walks
-learning guitar
-my sweat is starting to smell like tumeric and garlic
-no planning needed, just show up
-small cha dokans -tea shops--the tea is black tea with sweetened condensed milk and sugar. mmm. sweet delight.
-shops are open late and everything is only a 5 minute rickshaw ride away
-sweating--(yes, it does have an upside) do you know how good my skin and hair look? no processed foods, tons of sweating, lots of water equals healthy skin.
-the smokey smell in the morning as the store owners are starting their grills for the day
-the call to prayer
-colors, smells, fabric, paint, everywhere
-I have lots of free time for all my hobbies
(side note: Darren and I cannot figure out what hobbies people have here--we think they should begin to build weather kites)
-fishing ponds
-"corner stores" everywhere
-everything is reused here--I was walking home from Bangla yesterday and saw a huge pile of the plastic part of flip flops, waiting to be reused
-tailored clothes
-handmade sandals, just how you like them
-lassee (a yogurt sweet drink)
-ceiling fans
-people are happy with the basics. Even my host family, who is upper middle class, have a smallish place by NA standards, but are very happy and make good use of the space
-interesting architechture-left over from the british and also all the mosques
-the way I have time for conversations, over tea of course
-the market with all sorts of fresh fruit the store owners sitting in the middle of the produce, I even found tomatoes yesterday. :)

Bangladesh is feeling like home, I am amazed at how adaptable we humans are. It's a good place for me to be, to learn and to question the things I have always thought.

peace.
Cicely or "shish" (they don't really say "s" here, so my name comes out "shish)

Birthday and Bike rides

2006-09-17T20:24:00.000+06:00

A limerick from my Ama/Mom:

-Fireworks! The Badeshi’s friends met,
-Planned a birthday she’d never forget.
-But the blasts made a breeze
-Caught her salwar kameeze,
-Blew her up in the air like a jet!

Henna, My hand to the Left, Mo's to the Right. Mo is my upstairs 15 year old beautiful neighbor and new friend. it was a birthday present.

Maheen and me at my birthday party. We had a delicious fare of ruti/popadem, veggies with curry of course, yummy semolina sweets (I forget the bangla name) and a chocolate cake that I baked. My host family, their in laws and Darren, Reba and Robin brought in my 25th year with me.

This past weekend, I enjoyed going to Pirogatcha with Darren, Robin and Reba. It was a much needed break from the Bangla and the craziness that is daily life in Mymensingh. To get there we took a bus, and I was excited to get my own seat... then we took a "van" which is a flatbedded rickshaw for 45 minutes on a bumpy, muddy, red brick road, through rice fields, bannana groves, pineapple fields, and villages.

We stayed at the St Pauls Mission, close to where new friends Rebecca and Phillip live with their 1 year old. It was such a nice break, to be out in the middle of nowhere, and I am realizing that it is not just north american cities that leave me craving the wilderness--here too I will have to find ways to get away.

On Saturday we went on a super long bike ride, through the muddy roads, more villages, more bannana trees and cool bridges. Have you ever seen a chinese bicycle? Well, they are like the old school bikes...one gear, thin tire, heavy, low postioned handle bars. Well, that's the sort of bike I rode "offroading" through out the villages yesterday. It was so incredibly muddy--which made it hilarious, scary and I felt like I would tumble into the mud at any moment. I did fall off a couple of times which made for some good comic relief for everyone involved. we stopped by a "tourist area" (which by the way, NOBODY tours bangladesh, as far as I can tell--I have yet to see another foreigner that is not an MCC worker) where there were monkeys swinging from trees, and a deer park--which was thoroughly fenced in with barbed wire so the deer couldn't escape and we couldn't get in. I didn't need to see deer, they are overpopulated in the midwest anyway.

After our 13 mile village ride, we went swimming! I can't tell you how happy that made me. I have been wanting to jump into a body of water for about 3 weeks now, b/c it is so blasted hot here. The tricky part? Swimming in my salwar kameeze. hmmm. recipe for drowning if you ask me. I ended up discreetly taking off the pants and tying them around my waist so I could acutally move.

Modesty can kill.

After a long swim we went for a late dinner at Phillip and Rebecca's house. We cooked fish over a fire pit. We had badeshi food and even ate with forks. Living in the village and here in Mymensingh at times feels alot like perma camping, and it's a good thing I like camping...

I have a renewed desire to learn Bangla...which is good b/c starting tomorrow my long 3 hour a day/6 days a week Bangla boot camp starts again.

2006-09-13T11:42:00.000+06:00

Reba, cleaning out her closet because cockroaches have decided to take up residence.

a park on the Bramaputra river where I frequently go for walks.
KAKON, We were making "pizza" --it was the strangest pizza I ever had. It contained a sweet sauce, like ketchup, mint leaves, cucumbers(cooked), pickled mushrooms and wet cheeze. mmmm. (I told her it was delicous!) I am continuously telling myself to "adjust your expectations, Cicely :)

Inensity, all day, everyday. Notice the Mosque in the background, the rickshaw traffic jam, the umbrellas--they are smart, they use them for sun protection too. I bought one yesterday.

Mahin, above (pronounced Maheen) wearing his spiderman costume and mimicking my guitar playing. I'm not that much of a rock star though. and I want a spiderman costume.
------
Learning Bangla is so hard for me! It's like doing story problems all day long. I hate story problems. I nearly cried on Ms Nat today b/c I could not remember anything, despite the fact that we go over the SAME thing everyday. It is super overwhelming sometimes. Then 30 minutes later, I was so excited b/c I understood a minor conversation, and wanted to go study. Bangla and I have a love/hate relationship that is OCD, and probably MPD. Up and Down. Me and everything these days.
------
Tonight we are baking a cake for my birthday bash, and I am determined to figure out this coffee making jazz. It went better last night, but we didn't roast it long enough, so tonight I am going to try to roast it longer and stir it more. I am also getting some HENNA done by my downstairs neighbor, I am super excited to get all painted up.

well, enjoy the pictures, they took 2 hours do upload! I'm not kidding!

What would you do for a cup of coffee?

2006-09-12T12:09:00.000+06:00

These last few mornings, I have been drinking 2 or 3 mugs of tea. Not bad, but it's not coffee. I have been craving some freshly ground, brewed strong, with a touch of half and half in my favorite mug, while I read a good novel.

Last night Reba came back from Dhaka (and whenever you go to Dhaka you always bring important things back to Mymensingh--things like flour, paper, clothes, cheeze--things you can't buy here) and brought back about 8 pounds of coffee--unshucked, unroasted, un everything. That made me excited because we have so much free time on our hands, and I have always wanted to roast my own beans. I had a vision of Reba, Darren and I drinking a cup of joe on Reba's balcony, with the full moon shining and me smiling because the coffee was just that good.

So, last night after we went out to dinner we came back and decided to start this process. It was 11:30pm. The shucking of the beans takes a while, and each bean needs individual attention. The roasting takes even longer. We had some discord about what temperature, how long, and "should they be smoking like that!?" After about 2 hours of this hoop la, the beans are roasted/burned/black enough to look like coffee beans. We put them in the blender. grind em up. Then we remember that we have to boil water for 20 minutes to kill all the germs that give us diarrhia. Then we are nearly falling alseep because it is so late. Finally the water is hot and safe, the coffee looks like coffee...we put it in the water, let it steep. We then pour it anxiously into our mugs/tea cups. Will this be the nirvana we crave?

NO. it was TERRIBLE. aweful, possibly the WORST coffee I have ever had. I will not be defeated, though. My goal is by my birthday on Thursday I will have figured out how to make it and roast it and grind it and drink it. And I will love it.

---
In other news. My host family is throwing me a birthday party. My new friend Robin is coming from Dhaka for the occasion, I am going to help cook something "north american" and a good time will be had by all. Darren and I want to have fireworks, but I am not sure about the logistics of that, since we can barely hail our own rickshaws....:) I will be sure to take a few photos to let you in on the good times we have. Kakon, the mom of the family (who's 27) bought me a new salwar kameeze, 4 glass bangles, and a new nose ring for my birthday. The nose ring is a bit larger as that's how they like em here. We'll see if it suits me or not.

---
This weekend we are going to Mutagatcha, where Philip and Rebecca live--it's a village dwelling that is for sure, and they have a pond. A pond we can swim in. I have been wanting to swim for a long time, because it is so dang hot here.

But, now it seems that the rainy season is back in full force. We've been having huge amounts of rain, everything is dripping wet, thunder, lightning, grey skys. It's a good change, and it is a bit cooler. In Dhaka, the roads were completely flooded, up to your thighs, and there wasa hartel (strike), so that made for a very interesting day--on Hartel days nobody goes to work, or if they go, they don't have to work b/c "its a hartel"-- I personally like hartel days because that means there are no cars or busses out with their incessant honking.

As for the guitar, we are becoming good friends. I know A, E, G, and C. minor and major. My guitar is terrible, so sometimes it sounds like I am playing out of a bucket. But I think that when I get back to the US, and I get a better one, I will be so surprised at how good I actually sound.

This is getting excessively long, but I am waiting for the rain to let up a bit....

okay, take it easy, enjoy the beginnings of autumn.
PEACE.
Cicely

pictures...

2006-09-09T11:39:00.000+06:00

Salwar Kameeze

above, darren and I at Rebecca and Philip's village dwelling (fellow mccers)

Bangladeshi Birthday Bash

2006-09-06T13:09:00.000+06:00

Currently listening to the whiny and sad sound of the Call to prayer. It's an eerie sound--this Call to prayer. Five times a day, over loudspeakers from different Mosques, I hear this Call to prayer, watch men go into Mosques, and women cover their heads in respect for Allah. It's been interesting to learn about the ins and outs Muslim culture, nothing like going straight to the source, eh?

Muslims, Hindus and Christians all have their ways of speaking to eachother..."Namushcar" is a hindu or maybe a christian greeting and "alasalamhalikum" is a Muslim greeting. (still working on that one) The government recognizes the different religions and punishes people according to what their religious customs say is the correct punishment for the crime. A pseudo separation of Church and State?

The family I live with is Muslim, so I am learning Muslim versions of words and my Bangla teacher is Christian so I am also learning Christian ways of talking. I am thankful to be living with a Muslim family for a few reasons: 1. they are super nice, caring and kind and have a really cute kid who jumps on my bed. 2. I can learn cultural things in a safe environment. (for instance when I cross my legs, my foot shouldn't point at anyone b/c that is a huge insult, given that the feet are the grossest part of the body) (and I never use my left hand to touch things, or to eat with b/c that's the hand you do your buisness with in the bathroom) 3. It makes learning the language so much easier--the wife speaks english, but not the mother in law, the son or the husband....

Last night Reba and I got invited to a 10 year old's birthday party. It was Cackon's (the wife) collegue's daughter. When you are Badeshi, you get invited via the grapevine to all sorts of functions. Everyone is so curious about me, why I've come, where I live, if I speak Bangla etc etc. We walk in and there are all these beautiful Bangladeshi women wearing sari's,(saris are for special occasions) the air was thick with perfume, Bangla music blaring, kids running around, balloons hanging from the ceiling. The women are excited to meet us and offer their seats to us. (I am not used to being catered to soooooo much!) We sit down, Reba speaks in Bangla to the women, and I smile and awkwardly nod, but totally content just to be there. "Life is funny" I kept thinking...I am at a Bangladeshi Birthday party, mingling with the upper class of women, eating rice with my hands, and even tasting my first bite of GOAT. I am wearing my orange salwar kameeze with cool mirrors and embroidered flowers, chatting with the woman next to me about her Ph. D. program. 3 weeks ago, I was walking around Reeds Lake, drinking oberon with Alaina on the sunporch! life is so funny.

Have I expounded on women here yet?
A few Things I am learning about women and women's rights:
... women are expected to get married as early as 12 (it depends on your class how young you get married) and mostly through arranged marriages
.."Love Marriages" are rare
.. women are exepected to be VERY modest. My "orna" is a long scarf that I wear to cover my breasts. and if I am not wearing my orna and a man looks at my chest lustfully, then it is my fault for not covering them up.
.. Men never help in the kitchen/serve food--unless they are the exception
...women wear burkahs here if their husbands make them.
*when I get a little more acclimatized I am going to wear one for a day to see how it feels
...women are not welcome in Mosques
...women never have friends of the opposite sex

hmmm. yeah. this is rubbing me the wrong way. It is hard to be sensitive to the culture when I have such strong reactions to these rules. The good thing for me is that I am Badeshi so the expectations on me are much different.

Life here is starting to be routine, and the charm of the differentness is wearing off a bit. Now, I want to be able to order my own food and get to my tutor's with out any help. haha. one step at a time.

So much more to say, but that's for later. Now I must attempt to hail a rickshaw and not get ripped off, make flashcards before my Bangla lessons, and find some food from the market, b/c I forgot to eat lunch.

(have I mentioned the CRAZY amount of STARING??) yeah. lots of staring happening here. I am beginning to get as curious as they are and stare back. ahhaha

PEACE.

Pictures of my new home

2006-09-04T12:08:00.000+06:00

Arugh. pictures not working...welcome to bangladesh. ;)

summarizing the last few days:

we stayed in siragjang an extra day b/c both Darren and I were sick....feeling much better now, thank you very much.

the ag program is small scale and very cool. think of feeding fish chicken poop. and other things doing what they are supposed to do, no chemicals needed.

Yesterday went shopping for Darren's newly made sandals and my newly tailored shalwar kameez, buying mangos, banannas and pineapple straight from the source...

riding rickshaws and getting clipped by a rickshaw--look out.

wearing more color than I have seen in a long time...its all about the contrast....;)

feeling like a small child who has no idea how to talk, buy things or what to do with my shoes. thank goodness for Reba who has been here a year and for Darren who also feels like a small child and who can laugh uproriously when things are so awkward they are funny. Which is most of the time. haha.

now i must go to lunch. hope I can find my way back....later is my language lesson w/ Ms Nat... and Taize service later on still.

more later.

Agriculture galore

2006-09-01T08:35:00.000+06:00

This morning I woke up to the whirring of the fans in my room and the feel of the mosquito net. I slept well. This is good. I am still adjusting to the 11 hour time difference and get reaaaally sleepy at 4pm..

We are in Siranjganj checking out their Agricultural program. I am surrounded by books all about Ag development.

Today brings more seeing MCC programs and learning how they connect, how they help people survive and the ways to do this ethically.

It's going to be a hot one.

The Wheels on the Bus

2006-08-30T18:20:00.001+06:00

Yesterday we traveled out of Dhaka to Baromari, where there is a Catholic Mission that the MCC works with. It was an adventure to say the least. Ethel, Darren, Robin and two local guys who work for MCC went along to drive and help us "badeshis" (foreigners) out. When we got there we were greeted by sisters from the mission, who seem timeless. They were so excited we had come for a visit. The mission is so beautiful, green with lots of palm trees, cows hanging around, and big white ceramic buildings, all very breezy. We were ushered into a room where there were 30 or so children waiting for and giggling at us. They were so cute and curious. I think to them I might have been cute and I know I was curious. The kids danced, sang, played drums and a harmonium with amazing grace. It made me so happy to see children dancing and singing and making music. The gave us a buquet of flowers and kissed our hands. All the songs were in Bangla, until they started singing "THE WHEELS ON DA BUUUS" it was so funny--here I am in the middle of Bangladesh village country and they are singing a universal children's song. I loved it and it made me so excited to learn their songs and to teach them some Camp songs as well. With my new guitar skills, hopefully that will be possible. (so far I know A and E)

We had some coffee (instant) and a cocunut pie that one of the sisters had made from the coconuts right out side. It was delicious and all a bit surreal. Whenever something strikes us as unusual or funny or whatever Darren and I just say "Welcome to Bangladesh..." That was one of those Welcome to Bangladesh moments. There are many moments like that, since I haven't even been here a week yet. Here is a riddle: Think of America. Then think of opposite day. Then picture lots of rickshaws, lots of sweating, and colors, and understanding nothing except for two words. Think of lots of staring. Think of showers right by toilets (squatty ones) and guards guarding everything. Think of amazing interesting markets and tailors and shoe makers. think of more people than you can imagine. Then say, "Welcome to Bangladesh".

After Baromari, we traveled to Mymensingh and I got to see the Mymensingh mission where I will be staying. Sister Miriam greeted me with two kisses and kind eyes. I was just so geeked to be there. We had more tea and cookies, and I tried a bit of my Bangla and they tried a bit of English. We nodded and smiled alot. It is clear that learning Bangla will be a necessity to survive at the Mission. I saw my room. It is pretty big by Bangladesh standards. It also has a Western toilet and shower-only for me. I think that it will be good to have my own space to retreat to.

I saw some of the girls and wanted to just stay and relax and play games with them. It felt so good to be there and without a doubt this will be a good place for me. But I won't be moving into my room for two months. Language school is my primary responsibilty for the first two months. I will meet my host family tonight for dinner at 10pm.

Today we saw a few of the partnerships MCC has with handicrafts and learned about their fair trade values and how partnerships work here in Bangladesh. It was cool to see women working on looms, making rugs, painting paper mache' and carving things. It made me want to sit down and do it too. What an opportunity to see things that end up at 10,000 villages being made and meeting the people who make them and who are in charge. These visits required lots of tea drinking and cookie eating as well. Today I have had 5 tea times.

After we saw the various partnerships we met Mrs. Nat. She's got to be about 87 years old. She has been teaching MCCers English for years and Darren and I will be her 51st and 52nd pupils. She has a masters degree from Australia and has been a teacher in a few different places. I am excited to hear her stories and learn how to communicate.

It's good to see how my days will be spent in the next two months. I will have language study in the afternoons 4-6 and a conversation partner for one hour each day as well. This means that I will have the rest of the day to wander around Mymensingh and visit the Taize community.

Well. internet time is up. more later. yahoo wasn't working...so no emails today. I am thinking of you all lots and thanks for thinking about me too.

Of Tea and Guitars

2006-08-27T15:07:00.000+06:00

Tea is a very big deal here in Dhaka. It's sweet, savory and nearly as good as a cup of strong cowboy coffee. This morning we had it during a staff meeting and just now the office assistant brought me a cup, nice and hot. So far today has been lots of meetings and power point presentations--learning who does what at the MCC office and also about some of the development projects they are working on. One big thing is getting safe drinking water, free of arsenic. We listened to Rebecca, who is a bengali woman with a civil engineering degree talk about the different options for treating water as well as dealing with those who have arsenic poisoning already.

I've been craving a creative outlet here. Darren, who is a guitar extrodinair knew that I've been wanting to learn how to play. So today he found a guitar for me to learn! I am so excited and think that this will be a wonderful way to express myself and process and relax. I've been listening to lots of music, and coloring and also doing crosswords. These along with exploring the city last night have proven to be very rich and colorful times of learning and absorbing what is going around me here. I am beginning to realize that I'm not in Kansas anymore. I am in Bangladesh, learning, wondering, exploring, sweating, and loving it.

I am excited for the adventures to come and grateful for the last three days of taking it all in and first experiences of Bangladesh life. The rest of the day is free, which I am excited about. It's going to be so good to not be in structured meetings.

Tomorrow I will get my 3 salwar kameezes from the tailor--you guys would laugh and know that I am in my element with alllllllllllllll the colors and fabric and scarves and bells and maybe even whistles on clothes. I may never wear jeans again. Matching means nothing here and it's all about the contrast. I'll try to post some pictures to give you the full effect later.

Peace.
Cicely

Of rice and rickshaws

2006-08-26T18:06:00.000+06:00

I made it safely. Today's my 2nd full day in Dhaka. I don't have a ton of time to write right now...but I've eaten lots of rice, with my hands of course, gotten some fabric at the market for my salwar kameez, went to the tailor to have my salwar kameeze (plural) made, ate in a bangladeshi home where the hospitality blew my mind, been on a couple rickshaws, have sweated a fair amout and have felt more alive than I have felt in a long time....

Life on the other side of the world is gritty, beautiful and is proving to raise lots of questions. it's good.

Details of the moment: I will be staying in Dhaka until Tuesday, then I will head North with other MCCers to my host family's home (where apparently they have gotten new furniture, painted their house and cleaned everything thoroughly for my arrival!), and I will also see some of the Agriculture programs the MCC has further north as well...lots of orientation and conversations and questions...and I am definately still getting over jet lag....

I'll write more later when I feel less pressed for time..

Thanks so much for your emails and comments....means more than you know.

peace.
Cicely

Hong Kong with Emily!

2006-08-24T18:04:00.000+06:00

It's true friends, I am in HK with Emily. It's so bizarre, normal, and fantastic to see her. and currently I am drinking my last latte for a year. I keep thinking that THIS is my last...but now I truly think that this is my last one... ah, addiction...

My flight went very smoothly from Portland to San Fran... and the flight from San Fran to HK was 12 hours... and I slept most of it, given that I didn't sleep the night before. There was a very helpful, motherly type sitting next to me who gave me all kinds of travel tips and stories about China and HK. She even let me borrow her cell phone to call Em and tell her my plane arrived early.

I met a Mexican guy in the portland airport. He works for America West in Porta Vallerta..and says if I want to visit, he can hook me up with some cheap flights and accomodations. but all I know is that his name is Hector, so that plan might not work out.

Feelings of the moment: excited, nervous, tired...am I dreaming?????

peace.
Cicely, the international extrodinaire

I'm off

2006-08-23T05:20:00.000+06:00

to bangladesh, very early tomorrow morn.

44 lbs

2006-08-20T19:30:00.000+06:00

I'm at my Grama and Grampas house in Portland, OR, up early because of jet lag/ crazy sleep schedule over the last two days. It feels good to be up and looking out at their garden, blueberry bushes, their huge German shepard-Brutus, and using their dial up internet. I'm here in Portland, (which is synonymous with heaven) until Wednesday at 3 am, when I will begin the last leg to get to Dhaka, Bangladesh.

On Friday, which was our last day of MCC training, I found out that I would only be able to bring 44lbs total with me to Bangladesh, because "Dragonair"--the airline that will bring me from Hong Kong to Dhaka only allows that much weight. I had two bags--my hiking backpack weighed 38 lbs and my other suitcase weighed 47 lbs. SO. I was going to have to eliminate 40 pounds of stuff. Good thing my dear friend Alaina was there to help me...She lives in Philly, and since I was flying out of Philly I got to chill w/ her for the evening on friday....she even showed me downtown, the art museum and what the heck "water ice " is...(it's sort of like a creamsicle, philly style) anyways, after dinner, water ice and a tour we headed to her house to figure out which 40 lbs would have to go.

I was not too stressed out about losing 40 pounds...in reality that is probably more than I need, and I don't want to be this American tourist with tons of stuff and nowhere to put it. It is an adventure. I also think it will be good for the soul, this year is already teaching me things I did not expect to learn. Like intense simplicity. is that an oxymoron?

I put in some music, Franz Ferdinand followed by some Ben Harper to help us get started. But wait, who has a scale? hmmmm. Alaina had to go and ask her 94 year old neighbor for a scale, and after she didn't come back for about 15 minutes I was thinking this story could end up on a show like Dateline--about a girl who never came back from looking in her neighbors basement for a scale. I digress.. We ended up buying a scale at Rite Aid, only to come back to the 94 year old neighbor yelling and pounding on her door, scale (from 1930) in hand. Awkward? a little.

By this time it is 11pm and we have not even started the process. So we begin. At first its easy to see which sorts of things to eliminate: heavy shampoo, hand sanitzer, a huge bottle of lotion, clothes I won't wear in a muslim country...then we start a "maybe pile" All this time we are weighing things separately, and Alaina is keeping a list, b/c she's organized. I am working on getting rid of papers I won't need in Bangladesh, when the "maybe pile" vanishes. She tells me that my toiletries weigh 1/3 of the total weight limit, without the "maybe pile." I start to feel slightly high maintence. And I am not even taking any hair products, make up or lotion.

We then work on my clothes. I won't need many because I will be wearing a shalwar kameez most of the time. But only one pair of running pants? (I only brought 2 to begin with) Now I have to get rid of some underwear? apparently yes.

(less underwear is good for the soul)

Anyway we finish my hiking backpack, and move on to my carry on,which has books--none of which I can bear to part with. My carry on can only weigh 11 pounds...and I was hoping to buy some other books at Powells on Tuesday. grr. I can't do it. Then I start thinking about me moving into the village with tons of books, and fancy ideas, coming to "serve" thinking that I need all this stuff when most of Bangladesh is in incredible poverty...and I gain some perspective...but not too much because I am still thinking of buying more books and paying extra for my carry on. I think I am fearful that I won't have any outlets, and books are cathartic for me. I already feel like I did not bring enough music, also an outlet...and I am down to one pair of running pants, running is also an outlet for me. Maybe I will learn to deal with stress in another way this year. Maybe I will drink my fears and stresses away with chai tea instead....

We are nearly successful in making the 44 limit, but then forgot my shoes: one pair of running shoes, 2 chacos. 4 lbs. That issue has not been resolved. yet. My back pack weighs 48 lbs, according to the scales at the Philly airport...I am not sure how that will resolve itself.

For the time being, I am content to be out of orientation, at gramas, about to make some cowboy coffee.

Hope you all are well.
Peace.
Cicely