Back home in Minnesota, USA (Final post)

Home in Minnesota, late spring photo

I arrived home Friday night. I added some posts since my return because the internet is intermittent in Dhaka.

The snow is gone, although it was snowing when the plane landed, it stopped before we had to drive in it.  I left 95 degrees and humid and landed in early spring temps of about 40 degrees.

My flights home were without issue. Total # of hours traveling back = 31.  Ryan picked me up at the airport and we chatted at home for a couple of hours.  With him having been there just 2 weeks ahead of me, we had lots to compare and discuss; his impressions, mine.

Before going to bed, the mosquitoe bites on my toes were driving me crazy. I took a Benadryl, which I knew would help me sleep, too.  Not that I needed help.  I slept 15 hours straight! 

All of Saturday my mind was in a fog and my eyesight still burry.  I also messed up my sleeping pattern because I was not sleepy at all and finally dropped into bed at 2:30 am.  I slept about 5 hours and hope to even things out tonight. 

Along the way, I never had a moment of illness or discomfort from anything I ate or drank.  Wouldn't you know, on the way home, I caught a cold.  If that's the worst of traveling across the planet and into a developing country and back, that's not bad!

My first impression upon getting home was the quiet.  No fans, no birds or lizards chirping, no construction noise, no traffic, and no clattering of dishes, pots and pans or music from the restaurant next door.  It was as though I could actually sense the insulation in my nearly 100 yr old home (that isn't all that well insulated).  One gets used to the sounds and noise around us.  While in Dhaka, these perpetual sounds were just part of the environment, as was the air I breathed.  How easy it is to take air quality and the sound of silence, for granted. 

There are many, many things to be grateful for living in the US.  At the same time, the people of Bangladesh are warm, hospitable, friendly, generous beyond American cultural knowing, and people of a strong faith.  Contrary to popular Western media understanding and belief, the word Islam means peace.  See this link:  http://www.barghouti.com/islam/meaning.html

I found that Lisa married into a loving, accepting family. Getting to acceptance for them, like for me, was not an easy path to trudge.  But as Be-ai (Abu's father) told me, it was their faith in God that opened their minds and hearts to accepting this marriage.  While his family is Muslim, and mine is Catholic, there are far more similarities in our beliefs than there are differences... or perhaps I choose to see this glass as half-full.  One can choose to see the differences and count them as wrong, but where does that lead us? 

For as much as I missed many things about home, there is much to be said for "Home is where the heart is."  "Home" is to be the ultimate place of comfort and rest.  With my loved ones living elsewhere, my heart will be restless, aching to feel the bonds of our connection and touch.  Is it humanly possible to not feel the pains of separated love?  What contortions of my being does it take to resign myself to feeling "at home" when that place is not about creature comforts within the walls, but when home has always been where love returns?  I have a place to live in a country I have returned, but my heart has a perpetual bag packed to follow love wherever it goes.

See you on the road again!
Julianne

Bangladesh Poverty in Dhaka (#10)

Dhaka is the capitol of Bangladesh and one of the major cities in South Asia. It is the 9th largest city in the world. There are over 50,300 people living in one square mile. (NYC has 27,500/sq mi, Manhatten has 66,900/sq mi.) While Manhatten is a modern city (mostly) capable of handling the congestion, in comparison, Dhaka is part of a developing country. Think early 1900's in many aspects.  Although, Dhaka is considered to be the worlds fastest growing city with more and more modernized living (transportation, communication and public works), it doesn't look like it when in the middle of it. Growth and development come with a price and in Dhaka, it is overpopulation.  The city has jobs to offer, and is far more moderized than the rest of the country, causing people to flock there. The congestion in traffic is beyond description.  What might take 15 mins without traffic slows to 1-1.5 hours. Weaving in and out of this bumper to bumper movement are over 400,000 bicycle rickshaws! Dhaka is the rickshaw capitol of the world.

Lost in the masses, is an entire population of the poor. People not living in the area pictured below, call this the "slums" or the "Shanti Town" along the river. Many of the people living here are employed as part-time maids, drivers, rickshaw owners, and other servants (full-time usually have a small abode on the property where they work).  It seems to me that in Dhaka, one either employes a maid, or they are one. 

Those unable to work because of disabilities, illness, or simply lack of a job, work as beggars.  Many children are in this category. They walk between the cars in traffic, selling washcloths, flowers, maps, or simply asking for a handout. There are small markets within these areas where people living here buy their produce and other items at a cost less than in the open markets.

 

Goats roam freely

 

These look like old taxi cars. Although, there are no
yellow taxis in the city

 

This man works at one of the open markets where he (and several others) rushed to open my car door, with the expectation of a tip, his source of income. Because we had a driver who also opens our doors, I didn't understand what he wanted. I took his picture thinking he was trying to get my attention for that purpose. As we drove off, he banged on the back of the car, stating his disgust with me.


 

 

 

 

 

In their Bangladeshi home (#7)

Take a visual tour of Lisa and Abu's home...


Sitting Room

Proud tailor displaying his work



The tailor brought his own sewing machine, all the fabric Lisa and Abu chose and made the drapes right on the spot in the room in which they hang!  He also made their mattress right in the house.

 

There are 3 bedrooms and 3 baths in each apartment.  This one is the master bedroom. The door on the right leads into Sara's room. The bathroom is behind me to the left.

 



 

Sara's room with door into master bedroom. The windows look
out into a veranda or porch kind of room.



The third room (guest room). The windows on the right open
to a veranda/porch.

 The veranda off of the guest room.

 The dining room to be

 

 

 

 Lisa in her kichen. Notice the cooking pot. Very different than that which we are used to using here.  She is boiling water. All water must be boiled before drinking. After boiling, it is filtered.  The water quality is very poor due to the construction going on in the streets and cuts into the water lines.  Extra caution is used in purifing the water. 

 

Lisa's kitchen is not yet functional. They have one more cooking pot, no plates or tableware, staple items, etc. The refrigerator arrived a few days after I did. I offered to help complete the kitchen while there, so that Lisa, Sara and I didn't have to go upstairs to his parents kitchen for every meal. This was uncomfortable for me. I felt like I was imposing upon them. It is one thing for them to cook for Abu and his family, but to add me to the table didn't seem necessary. But Abu said it is part of a larger plan and the kitchen will be attended to next month. He said that while he appreciated my willingness to help, if I were to short-cut the plan, he and his father would find that offensive. I spoke to Be-un about this, thinking that perhaps the kitchen is the woman's domain. She did not have an opinion. Therefore, the plan is still in motion, and we ate upstairs most of the time. I did bring items for breakfast and shopped for more food with Be-un. She had encouraged me and Lisa to cook for ourselves. I didn't understand she meant in her already busy kitchen (with her directing the cooking of a fill-in maid, as her cook was gone for 14 of the 16 days I was there). Our cultural norms do sometimes clash, but you know the saying, "When in Rome, do as the Roman's do."

 



Sara, playing on the roof. My good friend, Donita, sent gifts
for Sara, Sam and Lisa. On the first day I arrived, I gave Sara
the chalk and explained who it was from. A week later, when
she used it on the roof, the first word she asked how to spell,
was Donita.

 

Another day and view of the roof. Notice the construction going on behind Lisa (the building going up next door to them). Families live in this building - like they live anywhere there is shelter. Going out on the roof is an exercise in being watched! The construction men stop everything to simply stand and look at us. Staring is not considered to be rude, as it is in our culture.  It seems to be the norm.  I'd have liked to lay in the sun, but I'd have had to been covered head to toe and still be under constant observation. No thanks.

The house maids are a big part of the home.  Abu's parents employ a cook, a cleaning maid, a laundry maid, and a driver. Lisa and Abu have the cleaning and laundry maids come in

part-time to daily dust/mop the floors and wash clothes. 

 

The dust in Dhaka creates a very real pollution problem... or maybe it is the other way around.  In any case, a layer of fine dirt is deposited everywhere throughout the day and night. This is not the kind of (nearly invisible) dust we have here. It can be felt on the skin and gets in the nose and hair. It is a complaint of everyone there. The over populated streets and ongoing construction are a big part of the issue.

 

 The laundry and floor maids.

 

 The laundry maid. Washing clothes by hand in a bucket and by pounding it on the floor in the bathroom. They dry outside on a line in the back yard.

 

 

I'm wearing the SK made for me there. It really
is a beautiful outfit, but the pants ("pajamas") do
nothing for a girl's figure! They are made with a
drawstring waist and have about a yard of gathers
and pleats. I wore this to the airport and was brought
aside to be patted down because it looked like I had
an extra somethin'-somethin'under there! Ha!

 

The floor maid asked for a picture of me. Of course, I had no idea what she said. Her hand motions looked to me like she said she was going to pray for me.  I thanked her and said I'd pray for her too.  Lisa over heard our attempt at conversation and said that she was pretty sure I was not understanding her.  No one was around to help interpret, so I shrugged my shoulders and that was that.  On my last day there, she asked me the same thing again, using the same motions, only this time pointed to a picture of a man on a poster.  As I struggled once again to understand, Abu came into the room. I asked him to tell me what she was saying. He told me and asked why she'd want a picture of me.  I said "because she likes me and I like her." I asked him to tell her I would do that if both of us could be in the picture. She was very happy and went up to her house (on the roof) and showered and re-dressed for the picture.  I loved it when she threw her arm over my shoulder! I'm 5'4" and have never been considered tall, until going to Bangladesh.

 

Sometimes maids become like one of the family. The cook for Abu's parent's house has been with them about 10 years. She was honored to have me take her picture in Be-un's kitchen while cooking. 

When making rice, (which is eaten 3 meals/day) the water is saved and later used as starch for all the cotton clothing in the house. They simply pour the water off the rice into a large bucket (like shown under the sink) and then the clothes are dipped into it, wrung out and then ironed. 

 

 

 Here, "Shaun-or-a" (not sure of correct spelling of her name), is demonstrating for me how to use the kitchen knife. Most vegetables are chopped and this is the a standing blade used for that purpose. All the cooking and chopping is done on the floor.

 

After demonstrating how the knife works, she motioned for me to come back into the kitchen so that she could show me the sewing machine.  The white thing on the side is the cover.  It remains in the kitchen pushed up against the cupboard behind her.

 

I should mention that smiling in pictures is not normal in their culture. I happened to catch her smiling up at Lisa right after I took a more serious shot. Lisa and I like the smiles better.

 

This maid is a long-term house maid and part of Abu's uncle's family home. She loves babies and smiling!  She was very eager (waiting with her head poked in the doorway to the sitting room where we were invited for tea) to hold little Sam. He looks large in this picture only because she is very petite.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



The food markets; A whole-nother world! (#8)

 

Items are transported on carts like in front of the sofa.
They are pulled by a guy on a bicyle! 

Be-un and I walked less than two blocks from her home, turned down a side road where items like furniture were for sale, and stepped into a building.  Once again, there was a world of markets before us.  First, the lane was narrow with fruit on one side and a wall on the other.
Then around the corner, we entered a large open space with more produce and foods than I've seen in one place, ever!  It was so overwhelming that all I could do was stand there and take it all in.  I had stopped walking and following Be-un.  A few steps ahead, she looked back and said something to me, but I was lost in that space!  Describing it can never do it justice.  Enjoy the pictures.



Empty carts ready for transporting goods

A cart of coconut in transport

Be-un looking for mustard seed

The guy who sold me some locally grown oranges.

I wish I could transport the sounds and smells, too!  It was all encompassing; the first thing we noticed was the stench from the fish and meat market.  The butchering section is away from the rest of the markets, which is good because the meats hang there dripping and the floors are gooey and wet with mud, blood, and more.  The flies are thick in swarms on the floor at the entrance.  One must watch their step very carefully.

See the man at the top of picture? I may not
have seen him if he didn't call out to me

The people were friendly and welcoming.  I was as
much a curiosity to them as my surroundings were
to me.  Several people would call out, "hello madam,
take my picture!"  Some asked Be-un which country
I was from.  I felt odd taking pictures, but Be-un encouraged me to do so.  She said that foreigners

Behind the potatoes - nuts in the pile of bags
and more seeds and spices.

always take pictures and people do not mind. 

Filled to the rafters

Where we bought a packet of sugar

Grain and spices

 

Kitchen items
 

 

Stepping into these pictures, I was overwhelmed
by the colors, sights and smells!

The butching section

These chickens were in the regular food market. The woman is standing on the floor.
The salesman is sitting next to the bin loaded with chickens.

 

Venturing out & typical street scenes (#9)

On Bangladesh Independence day, March 26, after walking to Gloria Jeans for coffee, 


Breakfast at Gloria Jean's. Notice the packet of
ketchup they gave me for my crescent. Ha!
Bangladesh is only 42 yrs old!
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Independence_Day_of_Bangladesh


I ventured toward the open markets on my own. (I didn't dare go inside because it is very easy to get lost after one or two turns.) Along the way, while walking the narrow "sidewalk" (dirt/broken concrete/brick path), there were doorways or rather, open walls to small spaces that held what looked like tiny restaurants and gathering places that were crowded with locals hanging out.

Street view from Gloria Jean's coffee shop

I walked along the "sidewalk," hidden behind the street scene, back in the dark area of this shot. There is a pathway with people cooking over open fires, and small shops along the way. It was so close and crowded in there, I didn't feel comfortable taking out my camera and shooting pictures in this private/hidden world.

Beautiful Bangladeshi music played along the narrow pathways through an overhead sound system--it reminded me of how music is heard while shopping at Macy's. People were celebrating their holiday, like we do, around cooking and eating favorite foods. This is my most favorite spot I've come across so far. It was not at all a place for tourists (not that any place I've been to has been - other than Gloria Jeans). I felt like I entered a world so different than anywhere I could even imagine. Pictures and words can't capture the sounds, smells and visceral experience of being there. If I could have video taped it, that would have helped! Even so, there is a difference in watching someone parachute out of an airplane, and actually doing it. That is how this experience is for me to try and describe. I recall thinking at the time how much I love traveling for this reason. The opportunity to experience places, people, art, music, and cultures other than my own, is high on my excite-o-meter!

Women walking along the street

Bone China - as one guy told me "made in Bangladesh," as I
read on the bottom of the cup, "Made in England"

One of the jewelry markets along the way

This guy called out, "take my picture, I am old!" I had taken
a picture of the guy behind him, a younger guy disintered in
having his photo taken



More colorful rickshaws





Professional men wear traditional looking Western attire.
Other men, like the sales guy here, wear "skirts" like the rickshaw driver above.
Here, this guy is selling tee-shirts on the corner of the street where
Lisa and family live.





Lisa, Sami, and I got out twice, with the help of the family driver, to other markets. 

Lisa and Sami testing the baby carrier. She didn't dare walk
outdoors with him. Between the traffic, broken walkways
and dust, it would not have been safe for a tiny baby.

 

This is traffic MOVING right toward us. I immediately came to appreciate the impressive driving skills of the family's
full-time driver! People drive on the opposite side of the street and from the opposite side of the car (our passenger side) than we are used to. Our driver gives a couple honks to let traffic on the sides of us know he is going to merge to the left to allow this car to go around us to the right. Whew! We made it through yet another day of traffic in Dhaka.

These pix are of a couple of shops in the market Lisa, Sam and I visited.

 

The store with "Fixed Prices" (no negotiating) where Lisa bought two
pair of shorts for Sara and one pair of pants. Total was 800 taka = $10.25

A card shop