Today is my last day in the...beautiful country of Bangladesh! I can't believe how fast the time has gone! My bags are packed and sitting in the guest house. We'll move over to Domenic and Mary's for tonight.
I don't remember where I left off last post, but maybe I'll try to remember a few interesting bits of info. I don't have my journal with me right now, either.
I've mentioned before the attention we foreigners draw. I could relate any number of stories on the subject. Sometimes we hear things like, "Your country?" and when we say, "America," they usually respond, "Oh! Barack Obama!". Sometimes they try to guess where we're from, and usually guess correctly. But we have heard things like Chinese and Japanese as well.
Waiting for the bus in Khulna to Dhaka, we drew the usual crowd, maybe 20 or 30 laborers with ditch-digging tools. We were the highlight of their day, I'm sure. I'd like to know what they're thinking when they stand there for 15 minutes just watching our every move. Do they get bored, but think maybe we'll do something interesting and they don't want to miss it? Or do they think the way we blink and breathe and shift our weight from one foot to another is so different it's enthralling? You should have seen the way they leaned forward and stared intently at Deborah when she rubbed some lotion on her elbows! I personally thought the guy brushing his teeth with a tree branch was more interesting, but that's just my personal opinion, I guess.
I can't remember the rest of the list of things I'd written down to post about! I think the heat and stuffiness is affecting my brain. And Deborah will be returning to fetch me before too long.
Tomorrow will be a looong day. I leave on Thursday and get home on Thursday, but it will be over 24 hours. Dhaka to Abu Dhabi is about 6 hrs, and Abu Dhabi-London and London-JFK are both 8-9 hours-ish, I think. And that doesn't include lay-overs or travel time from the airport to home! Anyway, hopefully I don't get pegged as a terrorist or have any other troubles! And I'll post more pictures, info, and interesting details when I get home....see you then!
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Friday, November 21, 2008
Pictures! And an update
Here is the link to my Picasa web album:
http://picasaweb.google.com/klg7808
I've uploaded the first 181 pictures and it took forever! There are over 500 total, so I'm not sure when I'll have a chance to upload the rest. We're headed to the village tomorrow, and then to another village further down (or possibly up or over, I don't really have any idea). We're going to Gulpalganj, where Protul and Putul's daughter lives, and will be there Sunday night to Monday.
Yesterday, Deborah and I went to Hope House, in a town called Kessapur. Hope House is a girls' orphanage, but the girls aren't necessarily completely orphaned. They're orphans in the sense that their parent(s) can't afford to raise them or educate them. There are 37 living there now. Deborah goes to teach them English. The director, David, used to have problems with the families taking the girls out of the orphanage before finishing high school, so that they could marry the girls off. After 15-year-old twins left to get married, David told the families, "Come and get your daughters now if you want to marry them off young; otherwise no one leaves until they graduate." A few left, but now the girls can at least have freedom until 18.
I only heard the story of two sisters who live there. It's an awful story, but such is life for some here: The girls' father was both a preacher and a police officer. One day, a fellow policeman asked him a few questions about what he did. The father was cautious because of the other man's beliefs, but he did say a little. The next day, a group of m's came to the door and asked for the father. With the whole family watching from the doorway, the man was taken outside and beheaded.
On a little happier note, I'll tell you about the two young gentlemen Deborah and I encountered on the way home. When we got back to Khulna, we took a "van" from the bus station to our neighborhood. First of all, a van is a tricycle with a wood plank over the back two wheels. It's used for transporting goods or up to 6 or so passengers. Deborah and I were traveling alone, though, until two guys who were originally heading away from Boyra suddenly decided they needed to join us and head towards Boyra. Following is a rough sketch of the dialogue, a good example of a typical conversation with a random Bengali practicing English. B is for the Bengali, D is for Deborah.
B: Are you a foreigner?
D: Yes.
B: From which country?
D: America.
B: Name, please.
D: Well, my middle name is Ann.
B: Who is she?
D: My sister.
B: Is she a foreigner too?
D: Yes. (It's very hard not to laugh at them, but it gets better!)
B: Can I have your contact number?
D: No, my father told me not to give it to anyone.
B: Oh, that's difficult.
D: Yes, it is.
B: Do you know some Bangla?
D: A little.
B: Do you think Bangla language is broad or short?
D: It's hard to say.
B: Where did you go this morning?
D: To a village.
B: We saw you leave and wondered where you were going.
Talking to or knowing foreigners is a really big deal here. They are always really giggly and enthusiastic, even if all they said was, "Hello, how are you?". One guy, after such an encounter, declared he was "gladly happy" to have talked to us. Deborah says, "I don't think I've ever made anyone gladly happy before!". While it seems obvious that, if Deborah is a foreigner, then I (as her sister) am as well, there are two reasons where this is a reasonable question. First, 'sister' is a common term for a friend or acquaintance. That's what the neighbor children say when they peer in our windows at night: "Sister! Sister! How are you?" The other part is, he may have thought I looked Bengali, as many here do. Sometimes on the street, people will try to talk to me and are quite confused when Adele or Deborah has to answer for me. Nevertheless, one of the first Bangla words I learned was "badeshi," foreigner. People occasionally use that as a name: "Hey, badeshi!" I also frequently pick it out of a conversation between people on the street.
Before I wrap this up for tonight, I thought I'd share a tidbit (one of my favorite words!) from the newspaper. There was a story about an elderly woman who was hit by a bus. That's no surprise, considering the way they drive here. I'm not really sure why they bother to draw lines on the road. They don't stay between them at all, but drive right down the center unless something bigger comes along in the opposite direction. I'm getting sidetracked. The end of the article states this "elderly" woman's age: 55. I wonder how many 55-year-olds in the U.S. would appreciate that distinctive term! But here, she could easily be a great-grandmother, and probably is at the end of her life.
Well, I must get some things done, then go to bed, but I have started a list of things I don't want to forget to tell you all. Interesting facts and observations and such.
http://picasaweb.google.com/klg7808
I've uploaded the first 181 pictures and it took forever! There are over 500 total, so I'm not sure when I'll have a chance to upload the rest. We're headed to the village tomorrow, and then to another village further down (or possibly up or over, I don't really have any idea). We're going to Gulpalganj, where Protul and Putul's daughter lives, and will be there Sunday night to Monday.
Yesterday, Deborah and I went to Hope House, in a town called Kessapur. Hope House is a girls' orphanage, but the girls aren't necessarily completely orphaned. They're orphans in the sense that their parent(s) can't afford to raise them or educate them. There are 37 living there now. Deborah goes to teach them English. The director, David, used to have problems with the families taking the girls out of the orphanage before finishing high school, so that they could marry the girls off. After 15-year-old twins left to get married, David told the families, "Come and get your daughters now if you want to marry them off young; otherwise no one leaves until they graduate." A few left, but now the girls can at least have freedom until 18.
I only heard the story of two sisters who live there. It's an awful story, but such is life for some here: The girls' father was both a preacher and a police officer. One day, a fellow policeman asked him a few questions about what he did. The father was cautious because of the other man's beliefs, but he did say a little. The next day, a group of m's came to the door and asked for the father. With the whole family watching from the doorway, the man was taken outside and beheaded.
On a little happier note, I'll tell you about the two young gentlemen Deborah and I encountered on the way home. When we got back to Khulna, we took a "van" from the bus station to our neighborhood. First of all, a van is a tricycle with a wood plank over the back two wheels. It's used for transporting goods or up to 6 or so passengers. Deborah and I were traveling alone, though, until two guys who were originally heading away from Boyra suddenly decided they needed to join us and head towards Boyra. Following is a rough sketch of the dialogue, a good example of a typical conversation with a random Bengali practicing English. B is for the Bengali, D is for Deborah.
B: Are you a foreigner?
D: Yes.
B: From which country?
D: America.
B: Name, please.
D: Well, my middle name is Ann.
B: Who is she?
D: My sister.
B: Is she a foreigner too?
D: Yes. (It's very hard not to laugh at them, but it gets better!)
B: Can I have your contact number?
D: No, my father told me not to give it to anyone.
B: Oh, that's difficult.
D: Yes, it is.
B: Do you know some Bangla?
D: A little.
B: Do you think Bangla language is broad or short?
D: It's hard to say.
B: Where did you go this morning?
D: To a village.
B: We saw you leave and wondered where you were going.
Talking to or knowing foreigners is a really big deal here. They are always really giggly and enthusiastic, even if all they said was, "Hello, how are you?". One guy, after such an encounter, declared he was "gladly happy" to have talked to us. Deborah says, "I don't think I've ever made anyone gladly happy before!". While it seems obvious that, if Deborah is a foreigner, then I (as her sister) am as well, there are two reasons where this is a reasonable question. First, 'sister' is a common term for a friend or acquaintance. That's what the neighbor children say when they peer in our windows at night: "Sister! Sister! How are you?" The other part is, he may have thought I looked Bengali, as many here do. Sometimes on the street, people will try to talk to me and are quite confused when Adele or Deborah has to answer for me. Nevertheless, one of the first Bangla words I learned was "badeshi," foreigner. People occasionally use that as a name: "Hey, badeshi!" I also frequently pick it out of a conversation between people on the street.
Before I wrap this up for tonight, I thought I'd share a tidbit (one of my favorite words!) from the newspaper. There was a story about an elderly woman who was hit by a bus. That's no surprise, considering the way they drive here. I'm not really sure why they bother to draw lines on the road. They don't stay between them at all, but drive right down the center unless something bigger comes along in the opposite direction. I'm getting sidetracked. The end of the article states this "elderly" woman's age: 55. I wonder how many 55-year-olds in the U.S. would appreciate that distinctive term! But here, she could easily be a great-grandmother, and probably is at the end of her life.
Well, I must get some things done, then go to bed, but I have started a list of things I don't want to forget to tell you all. Interesting facts and observations and such.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
A week in Khulna
Yes, I know it's been forever since I last posted. But, see, the thing is....I hardly know what to write. I've realized I was out of tourist mode and been adjusting to life here as though everything I see and do is normal, and then it because difficult to know what to say because it all seems so...typical.
For instance, a week ago Sunday (I think) we were down in the village of Rajghat (the only friends in the field are an older couple who live there). After meeting, we ate dinner with this couple, Protul and Putul. As an ant crawled across my rice, the thought that floated across my brain was, "I wonder if that's the only one, or if I've already eaten some." At home, I would have freaked out; but here, my reaction was one of mild amusement.
I guess I should tell you what all we've been doing here in Khulna.
Mondays, we have a study with one of Deborah's Bangla tutors, Lipy. She originally planned to enter a convent, but realized that was what she wanted to do, not what God wanted her to do. So now she is studying to be an English teacher. Interestingly, English is the only thing she studies in college. For four years. No other classes.
Tuesdays are free days.
Wednesdays, we go to Rajghat, by bus, for a morning study with P & P. Ma Halder also comes there. She has two sons and two daughters professing, in Dhaka. The village children are soooo adorable! When we leave P&P's, they come running, "Sister, sister!". They give us big hugs and walk with us, holding our hands, to whomever's house we're headed next.
Wed. afternoons, we have a study with man named Thomas. This poor guy is literally nothing more than a skeleton with some skin stretched across the bones. I think he had polio, but instead of affecting his legs like w/ most people, he's really, really thin. Various family members curiously hang around for the study, but they don't really have much interest beyond that, it doesn't seem.
Thursdays are free days (I think. can't remember for sure :] )
Fridays, we visit another young man, Shamir. He is Hindu, but is interested in learning about Christianity. Most of the contacts have already left Hinduism behind and have tried out various other churches before coming in contact with the workers. But this man had never even heard the story of the creation before. Last Friday, he asked how to pray: should he cross his legs like this? or like this? Another man was there as well, but we're not sure whether he's a Hindu or another religion (m). Anyway, I guess we'll have to be careful.
Saturdays, we head down to the village (Rajghat) and stay there for the night. Until this past Saturday, I have successfully avoided both squat toilets (if you can call them toilets!) and eating with my hands. I could have asked for a spoon to eat, but I figured I could give it a try. It's not so bad after I got over the "my hand's getting messy" part, but it is a bit barbaric-feeling. Oh, and to wash my hair Sunday morning....went outside and pumped water from the well into a bucket, then dumped water on my head with a pitcher. If that didn't make me feel like I'd been transported to the 1800s.... :)
Well, I suspect this is getting a bit long, and I need to do a few things before I go to bed, so I'll try to think of more to say soon.
Still haven't figured out how to post pictures; the site's partly in Bangla. I think I'm going to try to set up a Picasa web album and post the link. That might be easiest. I'll let you know when that's up and running.
For instance, a week ago Sunday (I think) we were down in the village of Rajghat (the only friends in the field are an older couple who live there). After meeting, we ate dinner with this couple, Protul and Putul. As an ant crawled across my rice, the thought that floated across my brain was, "I wonder if that's the only one, or if I've already eaten some." At home, I would have freaked out; but here, my reaction was one of mild amusement.
I guess I should tell you what all we've been doing here in Khulna.
Mondays, we have a study with one of Deborah's Bangla tutors, Lipy. She originally planned to enter a convent, but realized that was what she wanted to do, not what God wanted her to do. So now she is studying to be an English teacher. Interestingly, English is the only thing she studies in college. For four years. No other classes.
Tuesdays are free days.
Wednesdays, we go to Rajghat, by bus, for a morning study with P & P. Ma Halder also comes there. She has two sons and two daughters professing, in Dhaka. The village children are soooo adorable! When we leave P&P's, they come running, "Sister, sister!". They give us big hugs and walk with us, holding our hands, to whomever's house we're headed next.
Wed. afternoons, we have a study with man named Thomas. This poor guy is literally nothing more than a skeleton with some skin stretched across the bones. I think he had polio, but instead of affecting his legs like w/ most people, he's really, really thin. Various family members curiously hang around for the study, but they don't really have much interest beyond that, it doesn't seem.
Thursdays are free days (I think. can't remember for sure :] )
Fridays, we visit another young man, Shamir. He is Hindu, but is interested in learning about Christianity. Most of the contacts have already left Hinduism behind and have tried out various other churches before coming in contact with the workers. But this man had never even heard the story of the creation before. Last Friday, he asked how to pray: should he cross his legs like this? or like this? Another man was there as well, but we're not sure whether he's a Hindu or another religion (m). Anyway, I guess we'll have to be careful.
Saturdays, we head down to the village (Rajghat) and stay there for the night. Until this past Saturday, I have successfully avoided both squat toilets (if you can call them toilets!) and eating with my hands. I could have asked for a spoon to eat, but I figured I could give it a try. It's not so bad after I got over the "my hand's getting messy" part, but it is a bit barbaric-feeling. Oh, and to wash my hair Sunday morning....went outside and pumped water from the well into a bucket, then dumped water on my head with a pitcher. If that didn't make me feel like I'd been transported to the 1800s.... :)
Well, I suspect this is getting a bit long, and I need to do a few things before I go to bed, so I'll try to think of more to say soon.
Still haven't figured out how to post pictures; the site's partly in Bangla. I think I'm going to try to set up a Picasa web album and post the link. That might be easiest. I'll let you know when that's up and running.
Friday, November 7, 2008
From the Ostrich...
We are presently floating down (or possibly up) a river somewhere in Bangladesh. At this point, we are probably not terribly far from Khulna. We are supposed to arrive around 9 pm. I feel a little like we've traveled back in time. The steamer is 80 years old, but I feel like we're somewhere in the 1800s. Deborah and I are in a little cabin w/ 2 beds, Adele next door. But you should see 3rd class! The people are all crammed in one open room, with just blankets on the floor. Reminds me of the stories of immigrants to the U.S. traveling in steerage. Anyway, I should catch you up on the last several days.
Our visiting workers at the convention were George Lee and Lorraine Lerwick (U.S.), Beverly Thompson (Can./W. Africa), and Colin Sanders (Aus./Brazil). The rest of the staff consists of Adele Jeske and Deborah Wentz (U.S./BD), Rick Larson (Can./BD), John Watt (NZ/BD/Dubai), Harrison John (Pak./BD), and Jill Reeve (NZ/Pak). There were also two ladies visiting from Aus., Ruth and Therese, and Rick's cousin and his wife, Sheldon and Julie.
The convention starts on Thursday evening and lasts (technically) until Saturday evening, though everyone stays for the Sunday evening meeting. The morning meetings are from 10-12, then lunch, and then most people go home. Afternoon meetings are from 3-5, then there is a tea break, then evening meeting from 6-7. Supper follows. The meals are one floor up from the meeting room; little Bangladeshi men do the cooking and serving. Deborah enjoys how easy preps and clean-up are here! Everything is done in just a few hours.
For over a year, Bangladesh was in a national state of emergency. Part of the deal with that is there's a ban on rallies, etc. However, that ban was lifted Wednesday, and Thursday one of the party leaders arrived in Dhaka. It made a mess of traffic! Adele, Deborah, and I dropped a bunch of stuff off at the brothers' bach on the other side of town for them to send down later. Adele went over early in the day, and warned us that there were major traffic jams. We had been planning on taking everything over in a taxi, but that plan was scratched. Rickshaws can maneuver in and out of traffic easier, so Deborah piled me and some of the stuff in one, then found another for herself and the rest of the stuff. It took me almost 2 hours to get there, when it should've taken 30 minutes max. But, on the way, I got to see the parades of marching men with drums and banners. So anyway, we ate lunch at the brothers', a few of the friends came, and Ruth, Therese, Adele, Deborah, and I left around 3 for a horse-drawn carriage ride and the Steamer.
The carriage ride was a great way to see the city, because Ruth and I sat on the seat right behind the drivers (two adorable little boys). We felt like we were on a parade float. After we all got in and arranged, Ruth commented, "Well, that sure was a traffic-stopper." At least 50 men were gathered around us, staring like they do. And it was like that the entire ride: smiling, waving, asking us to take their pictures, taking pictures of us. I know a little bit better what famous people must go through. Even just walking down the street in front of the bach, a group of young guys got out their cameras and took pictures of me. The same thing happened today. The boat stopped at a little village, so I took some pictures of the men loading and unloading goods. And a group of guys got out their cell phones to take my picture. I guess it's only fair; I took pictures of them, but it felt a little funny :)
Well, that's all I can think of to say for now; maybe I'll think of some other things later. Plus, I imagine this post is getting quite long!
Our visiting workers at the convention were George Lee and Lorraine Lerwick (U.S.), Beverly Thompson (Can./W. Africa), and Colin Sanders (Aus./Brazil). The rest of the staff consists of Adele Jeske and Deborah Wentz (U.S./BD), Rick Larson (Can./BD), John Watt (NZ/BD/Dubai), Harrison John (Pak./BD), and Jill Reeve (NZ/Pak). There were also two ladies visiting from Aus., Ruth and Therese, and Rick's cousin and his wife, Sheldon and Julie.
The convention starts on Thursday evening and lasts (technically) until Saturday evening, though everyone stays for the Sunday evening meeting. The morning meetings are from 10-12, then lunch, and then most people go home. Afternoon meetings are from 3-5, then there is a tea break, then evening meeting from 6-7. Supper follows. The meals are one floor up from the meeting room; little Bangladeshi men do the cooking and serving. Deborah enjoys how easy preps and clean-up are here! Everything is done in just a few hours.
For over a year, Bangladesh was in a national state of emergency. Part of the deal with that is there's a ban on rallies, etc. However, that ban was lifted Wednesday, and Thursday one of the party leaders arrived in Dhaka. It made a mess of traffic! Adele, Deborah, and I dropped a bunch of stuff off at the brothers' bach on the other side of town for them to send down later. Adele went over early in the day, and warned us that there were major traffic jams. We had been planning on taking everything over in a taxi, but that plan was scratched. Rickshaws can maneuver in and out of traffic easier, so Deborah piled me and some of the stuff in one, then found another for herself and the rest of the stuff. It took me almost 2 hours to get there, when it should've taken 30 minutes max. But, on the way, I got to see the parades of marching men with drums and banners. So anyway, we ate lunch at the brothers', a few of the friends came, and Ruth, Therese, Adele, Deborah, and I left around 3 for a horse-drawn carriage ride and the Steamer.
The carriage ride was a great way to see the city, because Ruth and I sat on the seat right behind the drivers (two adorable little boys). We felt like we were on a parade float. After we all got in and arranged, Ruth commented, "Well, that sure was a traffic-stopper." At least 50 men were gathered around us, staring like they do. And it was like that the entire ride: smiling, waving, asking us to take their pictures, taking pictures of us. I know a little bit better what famous people must go through. Even just walking down the street in front of the bach, a group of young guys got out their cameras and took pictures of me. The same thing happened today. The boat stopped at a little village, so I took some pictures of the men loading and unloading goods. And a group of guys got out their cell phones to take my picture. I guess it's only fair; I took pictures of them, but it felt a little funny :)
Well, that's all I can think of to say for now; maybe I'll think of some other things later. Plus, I imagine this post is getting quite long!
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
So I guess it's official...
Obama wins the U.S. presidency. I'm not sure how I feel about that yet...
I guess there's so much I could say, describe the place, but I don't know what you all want to hear about :) The plan is for Adele, Deborah, and I to take the Rocket down to Khulna tomorrow. We'll leave sometime in the afternoon and arrive Friday night. The Rocket is a boat. I was going to describe it more, but when I asked Deborah to expound, she said, "It's a boat like you've never seen before. It's...uh...maybe I should let you see it first, then you can describe it." She said we'll feel like we're back in the 1800s, though it is motorized. Anyway, it should be interesting!
Yesterday we ran some errands and I did a bit of shopping. I got two salwar kameez outfits (though one doesn't have the pants part, but rather a skirt) and a sari. The sari shops are overwhelming! There are floor to ceiling shelves with layers and layers of fabrics. It's hard to focus enough to pick out anything. We went to a few shops before I found one I really liked...I felt bad leaving those other stores, though, without buying something from those poor guys, after making them pull out several saris and lay them out, just so I could shake my head and point to a different one. But, alas, I found a lovely blue, green, and black one, so now I just have to take it to the tailor to have the blouse piece made. At the shops, they just have the blouse fabric attached to the end of the sari, because saris are one size fits all, but the blouses are made to fit exactly.
So, what else do you want to know about? I think when we get to Khulna, I can put pictures up. That would be nice, eh?
I guess there's so much I could say, describe the place, but I don't know what you all want to hear about :) The plan is for Adele, Deborah, and I to take the Rocket down to Khulna tomorrow. We'll leave sometime in the afternoon and arrive Friday night. The Rocket is a boat. I was going to describe it more, but when I asked Deborah to expound, she said, "It's a boat like you've never seen before. It's...uh...maybe I should let you see it first, then you can describe it." She said we'll feel like we're back in the 1800s, though it is motorized. Anyway, it should be interesting!
Yesterday we ran some errands and I did a bit of shopping. I got two salwar kameez outfits (though one doesn't have the pants part, but rather a skirt) and a sari. The sari shops are overwhelming! There are floor to ceiling shelves with layers and layers of fabrics. It's hard to focus enough to pick out anything. We went to a few shops before I found one I really liked...I felt bad leaving those other stores, though, without buying something from those poor guys, after making them pull out several saris and lay them out, just so I could shake my head and point to a different one. But, alas, I found a lovely blue, green, and black one, so now I just have to take it to the tailor to have the blouse piece made. At the shops, they just have the blouse fabric attached to the end of the sari, because saris are one size fits all, but the blouses are made to fit exactly.
So, what else do you want to know about? I think when we get to Khulna, I can put pictures up. That would be nice, eh?
Monday, November 3, 2008
Quick Update
There's a lot to tell you about the last few days. Instead of one massive note though, maybe I'll say a bit tonight and write more in the morning. First of all, Deborah is much better. Turns out she had two types of worms, which is actually ok, because that's treatable with medicine. For a few days, I couldn't eat much, just some plain rice. The food here is much oilier, and that makes my stomach very angry! At first, I was a bit concerned it was something more, as I was nauseous and slightly disoriented when I stood up after one meeting, and that night I had a high fever. But I slept in the next morning and was ok, except that I still couldn't eat much.
So maybe I'll just tell you all a few of the more interesting things about this crazy city and the lovely people here.
First of all, you risk your life crossing the street. Cars do not stop for pedestrians, and they are mostly unwilling to slow down. Even if you step right in front of them. And the streets are filled with cars, buses, rickshaws, autorickshaws, bikes, carts, etc., all weaving in and out around each other. It's amazing they don't have more accidents. But I have noticed that there really aren't many dent-free transportation vehicles.
Be glad for Sunday mtgs where everyone has a chair! Yesterday, there were about 30 people smashed in a tiny room. Two of the brothers sat on the floor with the kids, and 7 or 8 of us sat on the bed.
Women's Lib needs to make its way to this part of the world. It's actually not too bad here, especially since, as a foreigner, I have a higher status, but this also means I attract much more attention from the men. Everywhere I go, they just stare. The van driver today adjusted his rearview mirror everytime I moved, so he could watch me (I really wish he'd spent more time looking at the road!). But the other thing about this is, I'm technically not supposed to look at them any more than I absolutely have to. Deborah was saying it's best if I just kind of ignore them, even when they smile and try to talk, or else they'll think I'm really interested in them. Bengali girls are rather cold towards strange men, but I just feel really stuck up and rude!
I think I'd better wrap things up for tonight, but one short story first. John Watt is a bit of a case. During testimonies on one day of the convention, he was translating for an older man who was going on and on (they do that here!) about how horrible he's been in the past. So John translated some of that and then said (in his Kiwi accent), "Poor thing. I don't think he's ever done anything wrong; he just feels bad." I had a hard time keeping a straight face, but we had too, especially because the poor guy was so upset! For those of you who know Dan Helenek, John is a bit of a New Zealand version.
I'll try to write more tomorrow.
So maybe I'll just tell you all a few of the more interesting things about this crazy city and the lovely people here.
First of all, you risk your life crossing the street. Cars do not stop for pedestrians, and they are mostly unwilling to slow down. Even if you step right in front of them. And the streets are filled with cars, buses, rickshaws, autorickshaws, bikes, carts, etc., all weaving in and out around each other. It's amazing they don't have more accidents. But I have noticed that there really aren't many dent-free transportation vehicles.
Be glad for Sunday mtgs where everyone has a chair! Yesterday, there were about 30 people smashed in a tiny room. Two of the brothers sat on the floor with the kids, and 7 or 8 of us sat on the bed.
Women's Lib needs to make its way to this part of the world. It's actually not too bad here, especially since, as a foreigner, I have a higher status, but this also means I attract much more attention from the men. Everywhere I go, they just stare. The van driver today adjusted his rearview mirror everytime I moved, so he could watch me (I really wish he'd spent more time looking at the road!). But the other thing about this is, I'm technically not supposed to look at them any more than I absolutely have to. Deborah was saying it's best if I just kind of ignore them, even when they smile and try to talk, or else they'll think I'm really interested in them. Bengali girls are rather cold towards strange men, but I just feel really stuck up and rude!
I think I'd better wrap things up for tonight, but one short story first. John Watt is a bit of a case. During testimonies on one day of the convention, he was translating for an older man who was going on and on (they do that here!) about how horrible he's been in the past. So John translated some of that and then said (in his Kiwi accent), "Poor thing. I don't think he's ever done anything wrong; he just feels bad." I had a hard time keeping a straight face, but we had too, especially because the poor guy was so upset! For those of you who know Dan Helenek, John is a bit of a New Zealand version.
I'll try to write more tomorrow.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
I have arrived!
Not much time, as I'm borrowing someone else's laptop, but just wanted to give a quick update. I got in last night and Deborah Unfortunately, she's not feeling well, and her fever this morning is 102. So we're not sure right now what, exactly, the problem is, but maybe I'll have more info later.
As I expected, actually being here is quite different from imagining what it would be like. It's not that it's so much different from what I thought, but seeing it in real life is interesting. The traffic is horrendous! As Deborah described it, they see an open spot in the road and they think, "That shouldn't be there." There are no lanes or really any traffic laws, it seems. And I didn't realize they drive on the left, etc., like the British.
I really don't have more time now, but I'll try to write more later.
As I expected, actually being here is quite different from imagining what it would be like. It's not that it's so much different from what I thought, but seeing it in real life is interesting. The traffic is horrendous! As Deborah described it, they see an open spot in the road and they think, "That shouldn't be there." There are no lanes or really any traffic laws, it seems. And I didn't realize they drive on the left, etc., like the British.
I really don't have more time now, but I'll try to write more later.
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