Merry Christmas from Thailand

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

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

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

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

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

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

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?

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

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

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

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...

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

early morning light in Kulna

Me, Shilpi, Toby

Reba and I

Tigers, Shooting Stars and the Bay of Bengal

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!

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

"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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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.
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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.
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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?

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.

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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...

Salwar Kameeze

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

Bangladeshi Birthday Bash

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

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

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

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

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

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!

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

to bangladesh, very early tomorrow morn.

44 lbs

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