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."
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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. |
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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.
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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.
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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.
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