Last weeks’ trip to the Chars was definitely the most anticipated. Since first learning about the Bangladesh Service Learning Experience I’ve heard amazing stories about the generosity of the people who live there, the curiosity of the children and the warm hospitality of the guests. I’ve also heard about the extremely limited menu, the intense sauna-oven heat and the large size of insects that attach themselves to your mosquito netting. Needless to say, I was equal parts excited, nervous, anxious and hopeful.
We arrived by large boat, chugging steadily through the water and maneuvering itself around the sandbars that constantly ebb and flow under the calm water. The Chars themselves are constantly changing with the water as well, sometimes being completely obliterated during the flood season. Our RDRS office on the Manushmara Char was no exception as it has been moved due to flooding the year before.
As soon as you step off the boat onto the ground you notice that the entire island is made from this silty sand that somehow grows luscious grasses, crops and trees. Abundant on the Chars are eucalytpis trees, which give off a nice herbal scent.
The unpredictability of the flooding Chars makes growing crops and owning land a serious issue among the residents. During one season families can lose their households, their land and their livelihoods. Because they are so poor, moving to the mainland of Bangladesh is not an option. RDRS developed the Chars Livelihood Project to combat these issues.
During our three days we first visited a women’s federation where the participants discussed the social issues on the Chars and where they select ultra poor village members to receive what aid they are able to give. The aid comes in the form of rice that the women distribute every month. While we were visiting the children decided to give us all mini makeovers: braiding Christine’s hair, adorning us with flowers and rubbing red flowers on our cheeks to make them look rosy. I also spotted a villager that had an uncanny resemblance to Willem Dafoe.
Our second visit was to a microcredit group, our last ever for BSLE 2010. The participants explained their loans were used to lease land and buy seeds or livestock. Some of the participants were already on their second loan, which means they repayed their first entirely and reinvested to grow their farms. We visited a few beneficiaries whose houses had been raised to avoid flooding and fruit trees provided for sustinence.
Our last stop was to a primary school. Education is another serious problem for the people of the Chars because the government doesn’t provide any formal education. It falls to the various NGO’s and villagers to provide informal education for the children and even then just by seeing the number of children not in school the situation becomes very telling.
For all the hardship that these people endure they were the kindest we’ve met (I didn’t think that was even possible). It was difficult for me to imagine them struggling for livelihoods when they are playing Frisbee with us and offering food from their garden. Eileen spent both nights with the villagers outside the RDRS office. At one point I looked out the window and saw that Eileen had inspired an impromptu concert , one to which I immediately joined. They took turns singing and we took turns dancing. Eileen’s irish dancing is adored by everyone in Bangladesh and she gets many requests. One of the older village women imitated Eileen and I’s dancing in hopes that we would join it. When the rest of the girls came to the concert the people talked (or motioned) us into performing a group dance, we decided on the Macarena. It was…interesting. That is all I’ll say about it.
Out of all the children on the Chars and in Bangladesh, one boy has won over my heart the most. Shajalal, or Sha as I call him is the brightest spirit. Developmentally challenged and of low vision he runs into the room and quickly finds your hand to hold. He is so tiny and finds joy in everything he does. Christine noted that this year it seemed that there was much more community support with Sha, letting him take part in the concert and including him in our games. He was the hardest child to say goodbye to.
The Chars also hosted THE BEST NIGHT EVER. At least that’s what I wrote in my journal that night. The staff decided to put on a cultural night for and spent most of the day playing up each others musical talents. The more riled up about it they got, the more name dropping we heard. Michael Jackson and Shakira were the most common. After it got dark we all piled into a small bedroom with the men on one side of the room sitting on the bed and us girls in chairs on the right side. The residents of the village quickly lined the windows to become our audience. The night started out innocently enough with some traditional Bangladeshi folk songs accompanied by musicians.
The second staff member decided to sing the first two lines of an English song he had learned many years ago. When he started singing I recognized the song immediately from my childhood. I was floored when out of his mouth, in one of the most isolated regions of Bangladesh came the music of a famous calypso singer that I grew up listening to. Mr. Harry Belafonte, my musical idol that my sister and I sang to, my mom sang to and my nana had a very intense crush on when she was my age. That moment was so special to me when I was able to write out and give Dr. Shadup the lyrics to “Kingston Town”. It was one of those funny moments when you know you are exactly where you are meant to be.
However after two songs came the dance showcase that will be burned into my memory for the rest of my life. One of the younger staff members put on some sunglasses and began dancing to a famous Bangladeshi pop star. Most of the lyrics were in English and went along the same lines as many 90’s dance/love songs. His dancing looked like a a mix between a seizure and a man getting electrocuted. Christine also noted the high volume of thrusts going on. Because the room was so small we were only a foot away from this performance. There was no way to react except to try and cover our hysterical laughing with enthusiasm.
Regardless of what it may seem I’m not making fun of this guy or contemporary Bengali dance moves. It truly took talent what he did it was just very unexpected and in close proximity.
Later it was our turn to perform. The staff called Eileen “Madonna” after her turn, I’m not sure what they called Christine and I after we sang them a little Fresh Prince of Belair…
Finally when things really got going we put on some Micheal Jackson. EVERYONE WENT NUTS. The seizuring electrician began doing this crazy moon dancing, not moon walking but moon dancing. I would have given anything to have it on tape. Come to think of it we might.
That night seems so long ago now that we are back in Dhaka. Saying goodbye to Aslam, the guesthouse manager and Rangpur was harder than I thought it would be. Aslam went very philosophical talking about how we will all be together again by the forces of the world. He told us how his heart is strong now because goodbyes are so hard. My heart is definititely weak because as we pulled away it was too hard to even look back.
This experience has challenged me on every imaginable level. The people I’ve met here will stay with me forever and the stories I’ve heard have changed my views on humanity. I have so much more faith in the world from knowing what RDRS accomplishes and what they stand for. I am so grateful to the University and the staff there for letting me be part of this unique opportunity as my final experience as a student. I want to thank everyone for their support in this trip and myself in general.
I hope to write one more blog after I return to Winnipeg because there is no way that I have wrapped things up here. Also just a reminder that due to political reasons facebook has been banned in Bangladesh temporarily, so anyone attempting to contact me this way will find a dead end. However I’ll be in Hong Kong in two days so I can answer then!
Sincerely,
Celia
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Lalmonirhat, Geckos, Spiders and Immigration
We left Rangpur in the morning for Lalmonirhat. After such an amazing visit to Thakurgoan the week before, I was really looking forward to being out in the field again.
About an hour into the drive we pull into what I thought was our new guesthouse for a rest. I was surprised when I stepped out of the van to the RDRS Eye clinic, one of their more well-known programs. Here they provide eye exams, medications, glasses and simple surgical procedures at free to highly reduced prices. Adjacent to the building was a school for children who are either blind or of low vision. We sat in on one of the classes and the teacher and children showed us how they learned to read and write Braille. The school also offers vocational training to the children such as music, dance, fish cultivation, mat making, plant nurseries, bicycle repair and candle making. The teachers are currently encouraging students to further their education and pursue teaching as their own profession.
The better part of the rest of the week was medically oriented as well. We spent our second day traveling with a female doctor to a maternity clinic that she manages. Although we have visited a few maternity clinics before, this trip was unique due to our female host. This clinic also has a delivery room, a post-natal room and a guesthouse for those women who have to travel far distances. The clinic was very welcoming. In other clinics I’ve felt somewhat uneasy. I’ve come to the conclusion that this is because I expect medical centres to be well lit, have fresh paint, the smell of disinfectant and be well ventilated. Most of the places we’ve visited have none of these things. This clinic however, seemed to be more bright and soft somehow. Still, I can’t imagine these very pregnant women who spend their entire day traveling to the clinic, only to wait all day in a dark, hot and humid room with no fan. The actual check-up takes five minutes and then she must travel all the way home. I have to remind myself that it really is for critical medical care and that these women are being provided with vital medication and medical information that they wouldn’t normally have access to.
Another aspect to our time in Lalmonirhat was to learn more about the extensive training program RDRS offers. This is the only department in RDRS that is self-sufficient. Last year, they trained 19, 321 people. At any given time there are 515 people being trained by RDRS across their working district. The programs range from vocational training such as goat herding and mat making to organizational and human rights based training.
Our last full day in Lalmonirhat we spent visiting a federation that had received help from RDRS due to their climate change program. The people of the village had to constantly migrate due to raising rivers and natural disasters. RDRS provided them with raised homesteads and solar panels for electricity. The village also worked with RDRS to build sanitary latrines and start tree plantations on the roadside. We spent over an hour asking them questions about their lives and they in turn asked us some really good questions about Canada. I enjoyed spending some real time with people in the village. Often it is rushed or we have communication problems, but this time we were able to really relax and get to know who we were visiting.
On that note, today on our way back to Rangpur we met with a female advocate for RDRS. This visit was actually to her home which I loved. My favourite part about my visits is whether I get to see inside someone’s house. This might seem a little odd but for me it’s another way to learn about Bengali culture. We sat down in her living room and she presented us with a coffee table FULL of food. She told us how her job involves helping women that are subject to dowry, violence, early marriage and so on. She is currently trying to encourage more women to become advocates partly because many of her clients are women and they are only able to share their stories with other females. This can be a problem in a system that has 4 women advocates and 80 males. Halfway through our meeting her entire family and extended family came into the room, even her 100 year old mother in law! We all took turns taking pictures. I fell in love with that family. It made me wish that my family could all live together in one house and be happy like that. Maybe one day that will happen!
This week I almost reached my breaking point. I had a cold and was having trouble eating the food for a few days. Every night the power was going out in the evening so we spent most of our time in the dark and the intense heat. Then it happened. We were all having dinner in the dark and I noticed one of the small nocturnal night geckos (called Tik-tikkas because of the sound they make) scurry across the floor. Usually they stick to the walls and ceilings and since they are small and eat bugs I actually kind of like them. I remember thinking to myself “that’s weird it’s on the floor, imagine if it crawled up someone’s leg”. When we were almost done our meal I felt it run across my feet and I immediately jumped and crossed my legs instead of keeping them on the ground. A minute later I asked if Kailey could please stop touching my knee because it was freaking me out. Unfortunately, Kailey said it wasn’t her. I touch my knee and under my pants I feel a lump. I tell myself that it’s just fabric bunching but I pinch the lump and stand up. This lump is soft and at my knee. I stay in as much denial so I also stay sane. I start walking in circles trying to figure out what to do. Still in denial and holding the soft lump I gently roll up my pant leg. I asked Kailey to help me but the look of dread on her face told me that she was no good to me. Pants in Bangladesh taper at the bottom so trying to stay calm and collected while getting my pants up was very difficult. When I see the tail peeking out of my pants I tell myself its just a piece of string. Finally I frantically push the Tik-tikka out of my pants and it flops onto the floor and runs away. Outside I’m laughing but inside I am FREAKING OUT. Everyone keeps laughing and I feel like I have Tik-tikkas all over me! Rita, our cook laughs hard when I tell her what happened. Still feeling all the adrenaline in my system we leave the kitchen to go to bed. On top of everything I see THE BIGGEST SPIDER I HAVE EVER SEEN IN REAL LIFE. I’m arachnophobic so this came at the absolute worst possible time. I didn’t want to upset any of the other members to I sat on the bed while they played cards for twenty minutes before I came back to the land of the living. Now looking back on it, I laugh pretty hard. A Tik-tikkas went up my pants. That doesn’t happen to everyone. I’ll always remember it’s squishiness and the sound it made when it hit the floor. Gross.
As you can read, this week was pretty much to the point. There were only two points of discussion that I want to share with you.
First, this week has only proven to me further the immensity and necessity of RDRS in Bangladesh. I decided to go on this experience to see for myself how development programs are implemented, I wasn’t sure whether I agreed with all the aspects. There are a few things that have helped make my decision. The first is the absolute lack of any foreign staff in RDRS. This organization is Bangladeshi run, it is through their culture and country that programs are designed and implemented. One of the reasons RDRS has been so successful is because it works in collaboration with the main organizational unit in Bangladesh, the community. It has tapped into this strength to discuss with the villages their major problems and how they villagers themselves would like to work towards a goal. RDRS makes it a priority that the isolated areas have access to legal information about the country, so that they are able to contribute at a national level should they choose to. I am also in agreement the ultimate goal for RDRS is that each community be self-sufficient and no longer require RDRS. I was initially worried that the NGO would be pressuring income generating activites and imposing western values and ideals onto them. This has not been my experience in any way. RDRS does provide training on income generating activities but it is at the discretion of the villagers and because this organization is Bangladeshi run there are not western goals in mind. The staff are incredibly respectful to the people they work with and vice versa. It has just been an amazing experience watching people who are working towards improved quality of life and basic human rights.
My second point of discussion comes from a conversation we had with a young RDRS entry level employee I will call Aamir for privacy purposes. He met with us every meal and made sure we were on time for all our visits. At first we weren’t quite sure why he was hovering over us during our meals, whether it was interest or part of his job description. His English was very limited so it took me until our second day to realize that it was his responsibility to attend to us. Over the course of the week I found out that he was 31, had just completed his Masters in Political Science and came from a family of seven brothers and sisters. We nicknamed him “our liason”. However, during our last dinner in Lalmonirhat his conversation turned dark, referring to the recent sudden death of his father and his dream of leaving Bangladesh. He said that he wanted to move to a western country for a better life but because of immigration laws he had no hope of ever doing so. None of us knew how to react, I’m ashamed to say at one point I may have even giggled slightly because I thought for sure this conversation was having a severe communication barrier. After telling us all these things he passed out gifts of notebooks and pens he had bought for us. Inside was his neatly printed e-mail address.
After dinner we all left Amir and went upstairs to talk about the situation. Many of the higher educate professionals we’ve met have talked about wanting to leave the country. This young adult has his Masters in Political Science and is trying everyday to improve his English on the slim to none chance of the opportunity to leave the country. This is the first time I’ve encountered people who don’t have that opportunity, who feel trapped in their own country like a prison. I found it impossible to imagine what it would be like if I were in the same position and unable to leave Bangladesh or even Canada. This is something that has never crossed my mind. Then I thought if it were easier to leave Bangladesh, they would most likely loose many of their educated professors, lawyers, teachers, doctors and businessmen. So is the small, very small, minutely small positive aspect of this situation the retaining and building of a country? Even so, I don’t think I can even begin to wrap my head around the complicated situation of keeping people in the country, or conversely, allowing a large flow of people into Canada. What are your thoughts?
I think I’ll keep this blog shorter this week. I am anxious to get to the Chars next week and I hope that my last week in Bangladesh goes well.
Yours Truly,
Celia
About an hour into the drive we pull into what I thought was our new guesthouse for a rest. I was surprised when I stepped out of the van to the RDRS Eye clinic, one of their more well-known programs. Here they provide eye exams, medications, glasses and simple surgical procedures at free to highly reduced prices. Adjacent to the building was a school for children who are either blind or of low vision. We sat in on one of the classes and the teacher and children showed us how they learned to read and write Braille. The school also offers vocational training to the children such as music, dance, fish cultivation, mat making, plant nurseries, bicycle repair and candle making. The teachers are currently encouraging students to further their education and pursue teaching as their own profession.
The better part of the rest of the week was medically oriented as well. We spent our second day traveling with a female doctor to a maternity clinic that she manages. Although we have visited a few maternity clinics before, this trip was unique due to our female host. This clinic also has a delivery room, a post-natal room and a guesthouse for those women who have to travel far distances. The clinic was very welcoming. In other clinics I’ve felt somewhat uneasy. I’ve come to the conclusion that this is because I expect medical centres to be well lit, have fresh paint, the smell of disinfectant and be well ventilated. Most of the places we’ve visited have none of these things. This clinic however, seemed to be more bright and soft somehow. Still, I can’t imagine these very pregnant women who spend their entire day traveling to the clinic, only to wait all day in a dark, hot and humid room with no fan. The actual check-up takes five minutes and then she must travel all the way home. I have to remind myself that it really is for critical medical care and that these women are being provided with vital medication and medical information that they wouldn’t normally have access to.
Another aspect to our time in Lalmonirhat was to learn more about the extensive training program RDRS offers. This is the only department in RDRS that is self-sufficient. Last year, they trained 19, 321 people. At any given time there are 515 people being trained by RDRS across their working district. The programs range from vocational training such as goat herding and mat making to organizational and human rights based training.
Our last full day in Lalmonirhat we spent visiting a federation that had received help from RDRS due to their climate change program. The people of the village had to constantly migrate due to raising rivers and natural disasters. RDRS provided them with raised homesteads and solar panels for electricity. The village also worked with RDRS to build sanitary latrines and start tree plantations on the roadside. We spent over an hour asking them questions about their lives and they in turn asked us some really good questions about Canada. I enjoyed spending some real time with people in the village. Often it is rushed or we have communication problems, but this time we were able to really relax and get to know who we were visiting.
On that note, today on our way back to Rangpur we met with a female advocate for RDRS. This visit was actually to her home which I loved. My favourite part about my visits is whether I get to see inside someone’s house. This might seem a little odd but for me it’s another way to learn about Bengali culture. We sat down in her living room and she presented us with a coffee table FULL of food. She told us how her job involves helping women that are subject to dowry, violence, early marriage and so on. She is currently trying to encourage more women to become advocates partly because many of her clients are women and they are only able to share their stories with other females. This can be a problem in a system that has 4 women advocates and 80 males. Halfway through our meeting her entire family and extended family came into the room, even her 100 year old mother in law! We all took turns taking pictures. I fell in love with that family. It made me wish that my family could all live together in one house and be happy like that. Maybe one day that will happen!
This week I almost reached my breaking point. I had a cold and was having trouble eating the food for a few days. Every night the power was going out in the evening so we spent most of our time in the dark and the intense heat. Then it happened. We were all having dinner in the dark and I noticed one of the small nocturnal night geckos (called Tik-tikkas because of the sound they make) scurry across the floor. Usually they stick to the walls and ceilings and since they are small and eat bugs I actually kind of like them. I remember thinking to myself “that’s weird it’s on the floor, imagine if it crawled up someone’s leg”. When we were almost done our meal I felt it run across my feet and I immediately jumped and crossed my legs instead of keeping them on the ground. A minute later I asked if Kailey could please stop touching my knee because it was freaking me out. Unfortunately, Kailey said it wasn’t her. I touch my knee and under my pants I feel a lump. I tell myself that it’s just fabric bunching but I pinch the lump and stand up. This lump is soft and at my knee. I stay in as much denial so I also stay sane. I start walking in circles trying to figure out what to do. Still in denial and holding the soft lump I gently roll up my pant leg. I asked Kailey to help me but the look of dread on her face told me that she was no good to me. Pants in Bangladesh taper at the bottom so trying to stay calm and collected while getting my pants up was very difficult. When I see the tail peeking out of my pants I tell myself its just a piece of string. Finally I frantically push the Tik-tikka out of my pants and it flops onto the floor and runs away. Outside I’m laughing but inside I am FREAKING OUT. Everyone keeps laughing and I feel like I have Tik-tikkas all over me! Rita, our cook laughs hard when I tell her what happened. Still feeling all the adrenaline in my system we leave the kitchen to go to bed. On top of everything I see THE BIGGEST SPIDER I HAVE EVER SEEN IN REAL LIFE. I’m arachnophobic so this came at the absolute worst possible time. I didn’t want to upset any of the other members to I sat on the bed while they played cards for twenty minutes before I came back to the land of the living. Now looking back on it, I laugh pretty hard. A Tik-tikkas went up my pants. That doesn’t happen to everyone. I’ll always remember it’s squishiness and the sound it made when it hit the floor. Gross.
As you can read, this week was pretty much to the point. There were only two points of discussion that I want to share with you.
First, this week has only proven to me further the immensity and necessity of RDRS in Bangladesh. I decided to go on this experience to see for myself how development programs are implemented, I wasn’t sure whether I agreed with all the aspects. There are a few things that have helped make my decision. The first is the absolute lack of any foreign staff in RDRS. This organization is Bangladeshi run, it is through their culture and country that programs are designed and implemented. One of the reasons RDRS has been so successful is because it works in collaboration with the main organizational unit in Bangladesh, the community. It has tapped into this strength to discuss with the villages their major problems and how they villagers themselves would like to work towards a goal. RDRS makes it a priority that the isolated areas have access to legal information about the country, so that they are able to contribute at a national level should they choose to. I am also in agreement the ultimate goal for RDRS is that each community be self-sufficient and no longer require RDRS. I was initially worried that the NGO would be pressuring income generating activites and imposing western values and ideals onto them. This has not been my experience in any way. RDRS does provide training on income generating activities but it is at the discretion of the villagers and because this organization is Bangladeshi run there are not western goals in mind. The staff are incredibly respectful to the people they work with and vice versa. It has just been an amazing experience watching people who are working towards improved quality of life and basic human rights.
My second point of discussion comes from a conversation we had with a young RDRS entry level employee I will call Aamir for privacy purposes. He met with us every meal and made sure we were on time for all our visits. At first we weren’t quite sure why he was hovering over us during our meals, whether it was interest or part of his job description. His English was very limited so it took me until our second day to realize that it was his responsibility to attend to us. Over the course of the week I found out that he was 31, had just completed his Masters in Political Science and came from a family of seven brothers and sisters. We nicknamed him “our liason”. However, during our last dinner in Lalmonirhat his conversation turned dark, referring to the recent sudden death of his father and his dream of leaving Bangladesh. He said that he wanted to move to a western country for a better life but because of immigration laws he had no hope of ever doing so. None of us knew how to react, I’m ashamed to say at one point I may have even giggled slightly because I thought for sure this conversation was having a severe communication barrier. After telling us all these things he passed out gifts of notebooks and pens he had bought for us. Inside was his neatly printed e-mail address.
After dinner we all left Amir and went upstairs to talk about the situation. Many of the higher educate professionals we’ve met have talked about wanting to leave the country. This young adult has his Masters in Political Science and is trying everyday to improve his English on the slim to none chance of the opportunity to leave the country. This is the first time I’ve encountered people who don’t have that opportunity, who feel trapped in their own country like a prison. I found it impossible to imagine what it would be like if I were in the same position and unable to leave Bangladesh or even Canada. This is something that has never crossed my mind. Then I thought if it were easier to leave Bangladesh, they would most likely loose many of their educated professors, lawyers, teachers, doctors and businessmen. So is the small, very small, minutely small positive aspect of this situation the retaining and building of a country? Even so, I don’t think I can even begin to wrap my head around the complicated situation of keeping people in the country, or conversely, allowing a large flow of people into Canada. What are your thoughts?
I think I’ll keep this blog shorter this week. I am anxious to get to the Chars next week and I hope that my last week in Bangladesh goes well.
Yours Truly,
Celia
Friday, May 21, 2010
Sex Workers Centre in Saidpur
Since I’ve last written in this blog, I have had both the most surreal and the most moving experiences on this trip to date. I knew going into BSLE that my time here would force me to confront aspects of the world which I do not agree with, am uncomfortable with and would find difficult to see. However as in most cases, no matter how prepared I thought I was, nothing can compare to actually being here and in the presence of the unique individuals I meet everyday.
Because I have a lot to say this blog, I’ll start from the beginning of our time back in Rangpur. The most surreal experience I’ve had started when we decided to go for a late afternoon stroll in the city. It was cooler than normal out and we were only sticking to our clothes slightly. Not long after we started, we passed a park that was hosting a kind of talent show for children. Our group decided to check it out but Christine mentioned that it would be a good idea to keep a distance from the tent and stage. It was to make sure we didn’t draw too much of a crowd. An RDRS employee, Shanto arrived soon after and we all watched from the sidelines as Shanto tried to reach his wife and daughter who were somewhere in the crowd.
It was at that time things started to change very quickly. The presenter began talking and looking at us, talking and looking at us. He then stopped the show to walk off the stage and inform us that we were now honoured guests of the Marks Allrounder show. Not knowing exactly what to do, we allowed ourselves to be escorted to the front of the tent and then sat in the front row. Immediately the video cameras and journalists cameras were pointed at us. The young contestants came up to us and asked us to sign their notebooks. Then a crowd of young ones began to form to the point where the security guards started sternly telling us to stop signing. After ten minutes I was extremely uncomfortable, wondering what would happen if the show suddenly ended and we were left to our own devices. At that moment, Shanto’s reinforcements arrived in the form of two little girls, asking if we wanted to leave. “Yes! Let’s Go!” I said as loudly as possible. Within a few minutes we were being led out.
This event only took about half an hour to unfold. We went from a walk, to slightly on the brink of chaos (most likely in my own head), to walking right down the street again. I didn’t tell this story to make anyone worry, the people of Bangladesh are kind and generous. I told it mostly to relay to everyone how different it can be to spend time here.
This was only on our second day back. There is still so much more to tell!
This week was our field visits to Saidpur. This town is only forty minutes away so we stayed in Rangpur at night and visited during the day.
This year the Bangladesh Service Learning Experience program differs in two ways from the programs of past years. One way is that we are the only all female group the program has yet to see. Second, we had the opportunity to spend a few days at the RDRS Sex Workers clinic in Saidpur. It is my opinion that these two differences significantly altered our time here in Bangladesh.
The Sex Workers Clinic in Saidpur offers a safe place for women to rest, eat, receive medical care and participate in educational workshops. Almost all women are treated for STDs and are given pregnancy tests. When you walk into the centre you see there are posters everywhere promoting AIDS awareness and the use of condoms. The educational workshops include basic reading and writing skills, mathematics and a course on tailoring. It is a common dream for many of the women to one day have a small tailoring business. The medical workshops include AIDS awareness and STD preventative measures.
Although the centre opened in 2002 a new problem concerning the women quickly became apparent. There was no space in the clinic for the sex workers children to sleep and due to their undetermined paternity, there was no space for them in school. In Bangladesh it is required for children to be enrolled in the school system through the name of the father.
The RDRS preschool opened in the centre in 2005, giving children the basic preparation to continue onto primary school as well as nutritious snacks throughout the day. Unfortunately there is still no space for the children to live at the centre, but the RDRS staff continue their attempts to make their time in the schools comfortable.
Our first day there we met with the children and sat in on a few bangla lessons. It was hard to imagine that these children do not have any place to go when school is over, they mostly linger around the centre for a few hours. When we visited it was summer vacation for the primary school students, most of the old preschool graduates will return to pass the time.
After tea was when we first met the women on our second day. I was so nervous about what questions I’d ask and what they would think of us. As I walk into the room I am immediately taken back by all the women. Some are in their early teens, others in their late forties. Some are modestly dressed and others have beautiful and delicate shawar kamises. I wanted to remember every single face and the way they spoke. There was this one girl about fifteen who didn’t say anything the whole evening. She stayed away from the other girls and kept to herself. She had on a simple but graceful turquoise shawar kamise. I didn’t even write anything down because I didn’t know how I could possibly write down the hardship that has been these women’s lives into my flimsy pretentious moleskin. What I remember most distinctly was that they wanted guidance from us, they wanted us to tell them what they should do to make it better. They wanted to know how they could get out of the sex trade. They wanted to know if we were going to stop the centre from closing down in December. (This has been a rumor around the centre for some time and I will keep you updated on the situation).
Our second day at the centre coincided with the AIDS Candelight Memorial. All over the world were candlelight vigils for those who had passed away from aids. The centre was having its own vigil and we decided to stay. We were ushered into a room with candles and respected NGO members. The women waited outside. As the candles were being lit I could only think that I was at a candlelight vigil for women who died of AIDS and just outside the room were 15 or so women who fight for their lives every night and are in real danger of contracting the disease. The women waited outside. I thought about how they told us they are subjected to beatings, stabbings, gang raping and theft. How they are often looked over or even abused by the local police. How they are wondering what will happen to them if the centre is closed down. Still they waited outside. It wasn’t until after when I found out that they have their own separate vigil for themselves.
After the minute of silence we spent some time in the courtyard with them. We tried our best to communicate with them. Out of nowhere they started giving us their bindis (the circle that women wear between their eyes). We all took some pictures together and we were all laughing with them and having a great time with the women. Then it was time to leave, they put on their scarves and left the centre for the night. I cried in the van on the way home.
Saying goodbye to those women was one of the saddest moments of my life. We spent three days at the centre and everyday we were greeted with smiles and friendly faces. On our last day in the morning we were with the children. We made an english/bengali weather chart with them. Our interpreter and RDRS staff member, Shanto, left us for one hour with the kids. Within ten minutes only Kailey, Eileen and I were left to fend with the kids. A frenzy soon erupted and we spent the better part of minutes trying to contain the yelling and pushing. Finally, a student went to find the teacher who promptly wrangled them back in line. We had recess for the remainder of Shanto’s absence. The younger sex workers (aged 14-17) joined in with us and the children playing jump rope and taking pictures. They also gave us new bindis. They taught us how to tie our scarves “sporty style,” that would allow us to play and even dance! I couldn’t say no when the women and children asked me to dance. I hopefully did my best and they seemed to enjoy it. I would have done anything to keep them laughing.
Our discussion that afternoon with the women became more serious because we were all more comfortable with each other. I learned that pregnant women work until they give birth, they never know how many men are waiting for them and that they try to get the customers to wear condoms but they almost always refuse. They told us some customers are good and they even have lovers, people who will let them stay the night if they need. When I asked them what they would do if they didn’t have to be sex workers they answered: “We are unable to dream.”
When it was time to leave Shanto left ahead of us so that we could “weep for them”.
I wish I could have told them what beautiful and fierce women they are. I wish I could have told them how grateful and honored I am to have met them. I immediately began crying. The women told us they never have people who spend time with them. I looked at Eileen and she’s crying too. Shanto was gone and I couldn’t tell them why I was crying, that it was because they had touched my life in such a way I didn’t think was possible. Because they showed us so much kindness when they are shown none. Because their dreams shouldn’t be dreams, they should be reality. I cried because I’d never see them again. I cried for all these reasons.
On the way home we brainstormed ideas for keeping the centre open. At this point there are so many factors to be determined.
I think I’ll leave my blog at this point for now. It is late and the other girls need to do them as well. It’s been hard to detach myself from the past few days. I just know that meeting those women has given me a new determination in my life that I intend to keep.
Thank you for reading,
Celia
Because I have a lot to say this blog, I’ll start from the beginning of our time back in Rangpur. The most surreal experience I’ve had started when we decided to go for a late afternoon stroll in the city. It was cooler than normal out and we were only sticking to our clothes slightly. Not long after we started, we passed a park that was hosting a kind of talent show for children. Our group decided to check it out but Christine mentioned that it would be a good idea to keep a distance from the tent and stage. It was to make sure we didn’t draw too much of a crowd. An RDRS employee, Shanto arrived soon after and we all watched from the sidelines as Shanto tried to reach his wife and daughter who were somewhere in the crowd.
It was at that time things started to change very quickly. The presenter began talking and looking at us, talking and looking at us. He then stopped the show to walk off the stage and inform us that we were now honoured guests of the Marks Allrounder show. Not knowing exactly what to do, we allowed ourselves to be escorted to the front of the tent and then sat in the front row. Immediately the video cameras and journalists cameras were pointed at us. The young contestants came up to us and asked us to sign their notebooks. Then a crowd of young ones began to form to the point where the security guards started sternly telling us to stop signing. After ten minutes I was extremely uncomfortable, wondering what would happen if the show suddenly ended and we were left to our own devices. At that moment, Shanto’s reinforcements arrived in the form of two little girls, asking if we wanted to leave. “Yes! Let’s Go!” I said as loudly as possible. Within a few minutes we were being led out.
This event only took about half an hour to unfold. We went from a walk, to slightly on the brink of chaos (most likely in my own head), to walking right down the street again. I didn’t tell this story to make anyone worry, the people of Bangladesh are kind and generous. I told it mostly to relay to everyone how different it can be to spend time here.
This was only on our second day back. There is still so much more to tell!
This week was our field visits to Saidpur. This town is only forty minutes away so we stayed in Rangpur at night and visited during the day.
This year the Bangladesh Service Learning Experience program differs in two ways from the programs of past years. One way is that we are the only all female group the program has yet to see. Second, we had the opportunity to spend a few days at the RDRS Sex Workers clinic in Saidpur. It is my opinion that these two differences significantly altered our time here in Bangladesh.
The Sex Workers Clinic in Saidpur offers a safe place for women to rest, eat, receive medical care and participate in educational workshops. Almost all women are treated for STDs and are given pregnancy tests. When you walk into the centre you see there are posters everywhere promoting AIDS awareness and the use of condoms. The educational workshops include basic reading and writing skills, mathematics and a course on tailoring. It is a common dream for many of the women to one day have a small tailoring business. The medical workshops include AIDS awareness and STD preventative measures.
Although the centre opened in 2002 a new problem concerning the women quickly became apparent. There was no space in the clinic for the sex workers children to sleep and due to their undetermined paternity, there was no space for them in school. In Bangladesh it is required for children to be enrolled in the school system through the name of the father.
The RDRS preschool opened in the centre in 2005, giving children the basic preparation to continue onto primary school as well as nutritious snacks throughout the day. Unfortunately there is still no space for the children to live at the centre, but the RDRS staff continue their attempts to make their time in the schools comfortable.
Our first day there we met with the children and sat in on a few bangla lessons. It was hard to imagine that these children do not have any place to go when school is over, they mostly linger around the centre for a few hours. When we visited it was summer vacation for the primary school students, most of the old preschool graduates will return to pass the time.
After tea was when we first met the women on our second day. I was so nervous about what questions I’d ask and what they would think of us. As I walk into the room I am immediately taken back by all the women. Some are in their early teens, others in their late forties. Some are modestly dressed and others have beautiful and delicate shawar kamises. I wanted to remember every single face and the way they spoke. There was this one girl about fifteen who didn’t say anything the whole evening. She stayed away from the other girls and kept to herself. She had on a simple but graceful turquoise shawar kamise. I didn’t even write anything down because I didn’t know how I could possibly write down the hardship that has been these women’s lives into my flimsy pretentious moleskin. What I remember most distinctly was that they wanted guidance from us, they wanted us to tell them what they should do to make it better. They wanted to know how they could get out of the sex trade. They wanted to know if we were going to stop the centre from closing down in December. (This has been a rumor around the centre for some time and I will keep you updated on the situation).
Our second day at the centre coincided with the AIDS Candelight Memorial. All over the world were candlelight vigils for those who had passed away from aids. The centre was having its own vigil and we decided to stay. We were ushered into a room with candles and respected NGO members. The women waited outside. As the candles were being lit I could only think that I was at a candlelight vigil for women who died of AIDS and just outside the room were 15 or so women who fight for their lives every night and are in real danger of contracting the disease. The women waited outside. I thought about how they told us they are subjected to beatings, stabbings, gang raping and theft. How they are often looked over or even abused by the local police. How they are wondering what will happen to them if the centre is closed down. Still they waited outside. It wasn’t until after when I found out that they have their own separate vigil for themselves.
After the minute of silence we spent some time in the courtyard with them. We tried our best to communicate with them. Out of nowhere they started giving us their bindis (the circle that women wear between their eyes). We all took some pictures together and we were all laughing with them and having a great time with the women. Then it was time to leave, they put on their scarves and left the centre for the night. I cried in the van on the way home.
Saying goodbye to those women was one of the saddest moments of my life. We spent three days at the centre and everyday we were greeted with smiles and friendly faces. On our last day in the morning we were with the children. We made an english/bengali weather chart with them. Our interpreter and RDRS staff member, Shanto, left us for one hour with the kids. Within ten minutes only Kailey, Eileen and I were left to fend with the kids. A frenzy soon erupted and we spent the better part of minutes trying to contain the yelling and pushing. Finally, a student went to find the teacher who promptly wrangled them back in line. We had recess for the remainder of Shanto’s absence. The younger sex workers (aged 14-17) joined in with us and the children playing jump rope and taking pictures. They also gave us new bindis. They taught us how to tie our scarves “sporty style,” that would allow us to play and even dance! I couldn’t say no when the women and children asked me to dance. I hopefully did my best and they seemed to enjoy it. I would have done anything to keep them laughing.
Our discussion that afternoon with the women became more serious because we were all more comfortable with each other. I learned that pregnant women work until they give birth, they never know how many men are waiting for them and that they try to get the customers to wear condoms but they almost always refuse. They told us some customers are good and they even have lovers, people who will let them stay the night if they need. When I asked them what they would do if they didn’t have to be sex workers they answered: “We are unable to dream.”
When it was time to leave Shanto left ahead of us so that we could “weep for them”.
I wish I could have told them what beautiful and fierce women they are. I wish I could have told them how grateful and honored I am to have met them. I immediately began crying. The women told us they never have people who spend time with them. I looked at Eileen and she’s crying too. Shanto was gone and I couldn’t tell them why I was crying, that it was because they had touched my life in such a way I didn’t think was possible. Because they showed us so much kindness when they are shown none. Because their dreams shouldn’t be dreams, they should be reality. I cried because I’d never see them again. I cried for all these reasons.
On the way home we brainstormed ideas for keeping the centre open. At this point there are so many factors to be determined.
I think I’ll leave my blog at this point for now. It is late and the other girls need to do them as well. It’s been hard to detach myself from the past few days. I just know that meeting those women has given me a new determination in my life that I intend to keep.
Thank you for reading,
Celia
Friday, May 14, 2010
A chicken here, a goat over there, maybe a few calves...
It's so bizarre, I feel that it has been ages and at the same time just yesterday I wrote my last blog. The day after I finished my last posting we left our last male companion, Dylan, behind in Rangpur and the five of us departed for Thakurgoan. The more into the country we get the more at home I feel. The stares have gone from confused and off putting to genuine curiosity. Over the past five days it felt like it was our job to wave at every happy face and smiling child we came across (a job I was overjoyed to do!). The landscape turned from endless markets to a more relaxed agricultural setting. My favourite part by far is the peppering of farm animals on the open fields. A chicken here, a goat over there, maybe a few calves, just happily grazing away harmoniously together!
After our first lunch we visited our first federation. For those of you not familiar with RDRS, the federation is the apex of its organization. The federation is a group of RDRS beneficiaries that are self-governing. Members can receive loans from RDRS as well as be eligible for workshops in agricultural skills or other economic production skills. In addition to this, RDRS provides informative sessions on important social issues such as early marriage, dowry, domestic violence, sanitation and the list goes on for miles. The goal is to have the federations become a completely self-sufficient unit. But this is only one component to the thorough programs RDRS offers.
Alright back from my huge tangent. When I arrived for my first federation visit I had butterflies in my stomach. I really had no idea what to expect. I learned about some of the activities I mentioned earlier and was really impressed with the youth aspect to the federation. They are not formal members but they do participate in workshops about issues mainly faced by youth. These teens go out to the communities and volunteer their already precious time to talk about what they learned.
There were three main subjects in our visit in Thakurgaon: agriculture, health and education.
The main agricultural development that was emphasized was the introduction of rice that allows for three growing seasons instead of only two. I'm not sure whether it was a communication barrier or not, but this fact was drilled into us by the end of the day. THREE seasons instead of two. It used to be two, and now it is three. Even though I'm joking about it, the fact that they are able to increase production so significantly is astounding. The agricultural program specialists that accompanied us, showed how the farmers are taught to plant a certain type of bean in between rice crops to allow for nitrate to return to the soil and provide protein for the farmers. In addition to this farmers will have small fish farms to offset the lack of money during the down season.
For the medical visits we went to a government run clinic that RDRS works with and met with the pregnant women who use it. The women pay 15 Taka and are eligible for 4 clinic check-ups (more if needed), pregnancy test, registration card, informative card, vitamins such as iron and calcium and a home delivery kit. If the pregnancy is complicated the health workers refer them to the hospital where RDRS will cover cesarean costs. They also train traditional midwives to be present at the birth. The rest of the day was spent visiting villages with twins (we saw three sets!!!) and newborn babies. I just have to say that Bengali children are the most beautiful, well behaved, curious and bright children I have ever been around. They light up my day every time I see them.
Speaking of children, we visited 1 preschool, 3 primary schools, 1 secondary school and a college. I saw many similarities in the classrooms in Bangladesh and at home. The basic drawings hung up on the wall, alphabet charts, cursive writing booklets and weather charts were the same as when I was growing up. All of the teachers were loving and kept the class in order. The main differences were found in the buildings made of bamboo and the covered dirt floors. Although all the children we met with looked healthy and well fed, we learned of programs in place to provide them with nutritional snacks to ensure their continued growth.
The secondary school had some very odd experiences. We were sat in front of the entire student body and they started asking questions to us about Canada and what we study. Then the question came up of what I wanted to be when I grow up. Well I guess the look on my face showed my unknown future because I suddenly had about a hundred students laughing at me. I stood there for a good 20 seconds bewildered and then finally muttered out archaeologist to sound interesting. Wait to remind me I just graduated and have to find my way when I get home.
When we left all the girls wanted to shake our hands. I was suddenly SURROUNDED by girls all with their hands out grabbing mine to shake it. It was at the time the most surreal experience I had had. That would change today and I'll explain it in a later blog.
So that wraps up our three basic areas that were covered this week but we also made many side trips. We met with a micro-credit group made up of all women. This RDRS group would give loans to women who:
1. Have less then 3 acres of land 2. Are poor 3. Residents of the village 4. Have no more than a secondary level of education.
The way this group functions it allows the women in the village to hold economic power within their families. They are the only ones eligible for the loans and training workshops. The women are also able to use the group to discuss the social issues they are facing.
After all of our visits this week I'm familiar with the usual questions of where we are from and why we are here. The harder questions to deal with are whether we can take some villagers back to Canada with us and if there are social problems in Canada. It's so difficult talking about our own Canadian issues. On one hand you want the members to support their partnership in RDRS programs and you feel that if you tell them there are beggars and landless people they will lose hope of their social changes. On the other hand who am I to sugarcoat the real social issues our country faces? We have homelessness and domestic violence, women still get paid less than men on average, and like the tribal people in Bangladesh, our First Nations groups continue to fight for justice in land claims. I don't think my dilemma with this is going to get any easier too.
Changing the subject a little, I have to mention just in general the people of Bangladesh. These people will honestly be with me forever. I am blown away by their generosity and sincerity. Twice we were given produce out of villagers gardens, villagers who are the ultra poor of the world. There is no way to tell them how thankful and honoured I am to have been able to spend even just a few minutes with them. This one older man, I believe was the leader of an indigenous clan, is etched into my mind. He was skin and bones, wearing nothing but a lungi and an undershirt. He also had some of the thickest glasses I have ever seen. This man was constantly smiling and speaking up during the meeting. When we left he said goodbye to each of us. This might not mean much to you but I just had to write about him.
Quickly on sightseeing, we visited our first pond (!), walked through two forests and saw a breathtaking terracotta temple. This temple was built in the 1700's, three stories tall and had been intricately carved on the entire surface. This was an archaeologists dream.
This blog also wouldn't be complete without mentioning the intense heat we went through. I'm sorry to all of the past BSLE participants, but you forgot how hot it is!! I know the great people and stories blur your memory a bit but this is ridiculous. Walking through the forest I think I had made peace with the idea of not getting out alive. Between the heat and the blatant uncertainty of where we were going from the guides, I sweat in places I didn't know I had. Example: my shins and the back of my hands. During one meeting it was so hot and long at one point I looked out the door and saw one of the women using this crazy 360 degree hand fan. I guess she saw the look of longing on my face and interrupted the meeting to hand it to me. In front of the entire group, BSLE team and on looking villagers I tried to spin this fan. It did not work out. I not only couldn't do it but I almost whacked myself in the face. Everyone found this hilarious. I was pretty happy though when Eileen bombed it too.
Okay this blog is getting out of hand, time to try and reel it in. Our last night in Thakurgaon was cultural night. The staff and family gathered and musicians and singers performed Bengali songs and dance. Most of the songs were about the good the federation was doing. Then we had to get up to sing our two songs. What the audience didn't know though was that the BSLE team had somehow talked me into dancing for cultural night. I was a ballet dancer up until highschool but have not practiced a step since then. Fortunately, the audience never got to see it because we ended early.
Regardless of my earlier rant, the hardest part of the week was saying goodbye. When we got outside to our van yesterday morning the entire staff had gathered to see us off. They had gotten us each bouquets and flowers as parting gifts. I spent the next fifteen minutes saying goodbye and driving away in complete silence to keep myself from crying. The idea that I will most likely never see these people again, or even the villagers I had met, was heartbreaking. I hope it gets easier to say goodbye!
It's nice to be back in Rangpur though, away from trying to get out of your mosquito net in the middle of the night like a ninja antics and the constant power outages of A/C. This week to Saidpur!
You might get another blog from me this week just because I in no way covered everything. Also, I apologize for numerous spelling and grammar mistakes. The internet is fidgety so I try to write and send it in as soon as I can.
All the Best,
Celia
After our first lunch we visited our first federation. For those of you not familiar with RDRS, the federation is the apex of its organization. The federation is a group of RDRS beneficiaries that are self-governing. Members can receive loans from RDRS as well as be eligible for workshops in agricultural skills or other economic production skills. In addition to this, RDRS provides informative sessions on important social issues such as early marriage, dowry, domestic violence, sanitation and the list goes on for miles. The goal is to have the federations become a completely self-sufficient unit. But this is only one component to the thorough programs RDRS offers.
Alright back from my huge tangent. When I arrived for my first federation visit I had butterflies in my stomach. I really had no idea what to expect. I learned about some of the activities I mentioned earlier and was really impressed with the youth aspect to the federation. They are not formal members but they do participate in workshops about issues mainly faced by youth. These teens go out to the communities and volunteer their already precious time to talk about what they learned.
There were three main subjects in our visit in Thakurgaon: agriculture, health and education.
The main agricultural development that was emphasized was the introduction of rice that allows for three growing seasons instead of only two. I'm not sure whether it was a communication barrier or not, but this fact was drilled into us by the end of the day. THREE seasons instead of two. It used to be two, and now it is three. Even though I'm joking about it, the fact that they are able to increase production so significantly is astounding. The agricultural program specialists that accompanied us, showed how the farmers are taught to plant a certain type of bean in between rice crops to allow for nitrate to return to the soil and provide protein for the farmers. In addition to this farmers will have small fish farms to offset the lack of money during the down season.
For the medical visits we went to a government run clinic that RDRS works with and met with the pregnant women who use it. The women pay 15 Taka and are eligible for 4 clinic check-ups (more if needed), pregnancy test, registration card, informative card, vitamins such as iron and calcium and a home delivery kit. If the pregnancy is complicated the health workers refer them to the hospital where RDRS will cover cesarean costs. They also train traditional midwives to be present at the birth. The rest of the day was spent visiting villages with twins (we saw three sets!!!) and newborn babies. I just have to say that Bengali children are the most beautiful, well behaved, curious and bright children I have ever been around. They light up my day every time I see them.
Speaking of children, we visited 1 preschool, 3 primary schools, 1 secondary school and a college. I saw many similarities in the classrooms in Bangladesh and at home. The basic drawings hung up on the wall, alphabet charts, cursive writing booklets and weather charts were the same as when I was growing up. All of the teachers were loving and kept the class in order. The main differences were found in the buildings made of bamboo and the covered dirt floors. Although all the children we met with looked healthy and well fed, we learned of programs in place to provide them with nutritional snacks to ensure their continued growth.
The secondary school had some very odd experiences. We were sat in front of the entire student body and they started asking questions to us about Canada and what we study. Then the question came up of what I wanted to be when I grow up. Well I guess the look on my face showed my unknown future because I suddenly had about a hundred students laughing at me. I stood there for a good 20 seconds bewildered and then finally muttered out archaeologist to sound interesting. Wait to remind me I just graduated and have to find my way when I get home.
When we left all the girls wanted to shake our hands. I was suddenly SURROUNDED by girls all with their hands out grabbing mine to shake it. It was at the time the most surreal experience I had had. That would change today and I'll explain it in a later blog.
So that wraps up our three basic areas that were covered this week but we also made many side trips. We met with a micro-credit group made up of all women. This RDRS group would give loans to women who:
1. Have less then 3 acres of land 2. Are poor 3. Residents of the village 4. Have no more than a secondary level of education.
The way this group functions it allows the women in the village to hold economic power within their families. They are the only ones eligible for the loans and training workshops. The women are also able to use the group to discuss the social issues they are facing.
After all of our visits this week I'm familiar with the usual questions of where we are from and why we are here. The harder questions to deal with are whether we can take some villagers back to Canada with us and if there are social problems in Canada. It's so difficult talking about our own Canadian issues. On one hand you want the members to support their partnership in RDRS programs and you feel that if you tell them there are beggars and landless people they will lose hope of their social changes. On the other hand who am I to sugarcoat the real social issues our country faces? We have homelessness and domestic violence, women still get paid less than men on average, and like the tribal people in Bangladesh, our First Nations groups continue to fight for justice in land claims. I don't think my dilemma with this is going to get any easier too.
Changing the subject a little, I have to mention just in general the people of Bangladesh. These people will honestly be with me forever. I am blown away by their generosity and sincerity. Twice we were given produce out of villagers gardens, villagers who are the ultra poor of the world. There is no way to tell them how thankful and honoured I am to have been able to spend even just a few minutes with them. This one older man, I believe was the leader of an indigenous clan, is etched into my mind. He was skin and bones, wearing nothing but a lungi and an undershirt. He also had some of the thickest glasses I have ever seen. This man was constantly smiling and speaking up during the meeting. When we left he said goodbye to each of us. This might not mean much to you but I just had to write about him.
Quickly on sightseeing, we visited our first pond (!), walked through two forests and saw a breathtaking terracotta temple. This temple was built in the 1700's, three stories tall and had been intricately carved on the entire surface. This was an archaeologists dream.
This blog also wouldn't be complete without mentioning the intense heat we went through. I'm sorry to all of the past BSLE participants, but you forgot how hot it is!! I know the great people and stories blur your memory a bit but this is ridiculous. Walking through the forest I think I had made peace with the idea of not getting out alive. Between the heat and the blatant uncertainty of where we were going from the guides, I sweat in places I didn't know I had. Example: my shins and the back of my hands. During one meeting it was so hot and long at one point I looked out the door and saw one of the women using this crazy 360 degree hand fan. I guess she saw the look of longing on my face and interrupted the meeting to hand it to me. In front of the entire group, BSLE team and on looking villagers I tried to spin this fan. It did not work out. I not only couldn't do it but I almost whacked myself in the face. Everyone found this hilarious. I was pretty happy though when Eileen bombed it too.
Okay this blog is getting out of hand, time to try and reel it in. Our last night in Thakurgaon was cultural night. The staff and family gathered and musicians and singers performed Bengali songs and dance. Most of the songs were about the good the federation was doing. Then we had to get up to sing our two songs. What the audience didn't know though was that the BSLE team had somehow talked me into dancing for cultural night. I was a ballet dancer up until highschool but have not practiced a step since then. Fortunately, the audience never got to see it because we ended early.
Regardless of my earlier rant, the hardest part of the week was saying goodbye. When we got outside to our van yesterday morning the entire staff had gathered to see us off. They had gotten us each bouquets and flowers as parting gifts. I spent the next fifteen minutes saying goodbye and driving away in complete silence to keep myself from crying. The idea that I will most likely never see these people again, or even the villagers I had met, was heartbreaking. I hope it gets easier to say goodbye!
It's nice to be back in Rangpur though, away from trying to get out of your mosquito net in the middle of the night like a ninja antics and the constant power outages of A/C. This week to Saidpur!
You might get another blog from me this week just because I in no way covered everything. Also, I apologize for numerous spelling and grammar mistakes. The internet is fidgety so I try to write and send it in as soon as I can.
All the Best,
Celia
Friday, May 7, 2010
Blogladesh
First off, I made a promise to someone back home I would use this title in at least one of my posts. So I hope I made your day.
Travelling from Winnipeg to Vancouver to Hong Kong to Bangladesh went as smoothly as it could have possibly went. For someone who has never travelled internationally before it was great to travel and spend one day in Hong Kong before going to Bangladesh to ease into the culture shock. As an anthropology student, I've had discussions about culture shock but the actual experience really cannot be described.
As soon as we were off the plane it was like Dhaka had engulfed me. A complete sensory overload from the different smells, the instant sticky skin sensation, the yelling and honking and the colorful billboards, vans and rickshaws. This was only at night too. In the morning the whole group went for a walk and the stares and attention was overwhelming. The streets are choked with traffic and honking is a language in itself. There are larger apartment buildings and business buildings with tin shacks selling drinks and snacks lining the streets. There are new overpasses but 90% of the people actually successfully cross the roads. This leaves me baffled every time I see someone weave in and out of traffic that is packed and going what feels like at least 40km but maybe 60km. But back to the stares. Most looked confused, others happy and some blank. The difference between learning about a different culture and watching programs such as the passionate eye or discovery channel and being there is monumental. When I first stepped out my anxiety was through the roof. I felt like I had been delt some terrible news and was walking around in a daze with the wind knocked out of me. It has taken about a week and I am just now starting to relax when I walk around the cities. Yesterday I felt the most at home so far, dodging traffic and taking rickshaws to the market and back. I still don't know if I'd ever feel even 80% comfortable with getting around and the stares that I've been experiencing.
The RDRS staff and guesthouses have been phenomenal. We each have a roommate from the group and a common room to spend time together. Every meal has had variations and breakfast is definitely my favourite meal of the day with fresh bread, homemade nutella, eggs and juice. Lunch and dinner are more Bengali with rice and dahl served for every meal and three different vegetable sides. Robin, one of the RDRS staff told me I had perfect eating technique, at which time I blushed and then have been fumbling around ever since. The most comfortable time of the day is after dinner with tea, where we all sit at the table and have talks. I love this part because my family does this everytime I'm over for dinner so it's familiar.
There are two major aspects to Bangladesh that have really hit home for me so far. The first is the blatant spectrum of ultra poor to rich in Dhaka and even now in Rangpur. On the road there are rickshaws, auto rickshaws, buses in poor condition and then brand new cars. Off the road there are tin homes propped up right beside business buildings and hotels. Some of the stores we've been to have been housed in buildings that look like they would crumble if you even look at them, but once you go inside becomes a beautiful air conditioned department store.
At one point when we were driving in our brand new "only second time on the road" van, our driver hit a rickshaw with a passenger on it and the rickshaw flipped over. The driving in Dhaka is chaos and near accidents occur every second but the speed of the van and the sound of the collision took back the entire group. Our driver Tipu and the RDRS employee continued on shaken, but otherwise unchanged. We on the other hand, looked out the back of the van intently to see the two men stand up.
While on one hand I'm so glad they both seemed okay, I'm still extremely worried about what happened to both of them after the crash. They fell hard and permanent injuries and damage to the bike was a real possibility. I couldn't even think about what if it had been a woman and her child in the rickshaw. That one moment of contact could have changed the lives of the rickshaw driver and the passenger but we would never know because our driver just kept on going. I learned later it was because there was no way of knowing what would happen to our driver if he stopped. He could be pulled out of the van, be made to pay damages and lose his job. If we offered to pay for any damage a habit might be made of hitting foreigners for money.
The second major aspect of Bangladesh I've been having problems with is being a female foreigner in a conservative patriarchal society. On one hand we have been given preferential treatment in forms such as the right of way for traffic and customer service. We are always greeted very politely and doors literally open for us (with the help of doorstaff). We are allowed entry to the most guarded and prestigious hotels. On the other hand we are staying in a country where women are primarily caregivers and domestic day labourers while contributing in some way to family income.
As a foreign woman in Bangladesh I am subjected to this double sided set of assumptions that I'm finding I constantly have to mediate. Experiencing extreme preferential treatment but with the men being spoken to and served food first has left me feeling undone. Interacting with people becomes confusing as well. This is my first encounter with not knowing how to read my place within society.
But not everything so far has been this confusing or daunting! Every person I've met so far has been over the top kind. Forget friendly Manitoba, Bangladesh beats us by a landslide. Also on our third day here we went site seeing to the ancient capital of Sonagoah. It was like nothing I had ever seen. The old buildings were mostly red brick and the architecture reminded me of a cross between small plantation houses from the southern US and the old-saloons from western movies. You could easily picture the buildings in their glory days but today they were run down and crumbling due to neglect and humidity. I questioned my career choice of not going into archaeology.
We also stopped at a replica of the Taj Mahal. It was a great tourist spot and looked like it was a hot spot for couples. That was the longest time I've spent outside so far and I swear I sweat through my clothes. Speaking of clothes, I am now the proud owner of three new outfits! I still feel like I'm wearing my scarves wrong though and I make a point to observe every woman who walks by to see how they wear theirs. All of their clothing is absolutely beautiful.
One last thing I wanted to touch on was the fact that there is an abundance of cell phones in Bangladesh. I wasn't expected to see so many and the range of economic classes who use them. Even little children walking down the street on a cell phone seems like a normal thing here. On our drive to Rangpur we saw billboards advertising cell phones to farmers in rural areas. I would love to know more about how cell phones have changed the country and communication here. Considering that land lines were most likely not prevalent before cell phones, I would find it so interesting to learn how it all worked and the direction cell phone use is taking.
We are now in Rangpur, a city roughly seven hours north of Dhaka. There are much fewer cars here but the population density hasn't changed at all. I'm sad we will be leaving for a few days tomorrow but look forward to having this as our home base.
Last, I just wanted to point out that although the driving makes me incredibly nervous and anxious in this country I have to thank my friend Katie for her driving skills in Winnipeg for getting me through this first week of what most people might feel are near death experiences. Thank you.
Travelling from Winnipeg to Vancouver to Hong Kong to Bangladesh went as smoothly as it could have possibly went. For someone who has never travelled internationally before it was great to travel and spend one day in Hong Kong before going to Bangladesh to ease into the culture shock. As an anthropology student, I've had discussions about culture shock but the actual experience really cannot be described.
As soon as we were off the plane it was like Dhaka had engulfed me. A complete sensory overload from the different smells, the instant sticky skin sensation, the yelling and honking and the colorful billboards, vans and rickshaws. This was only at night too. In the morning the whole group went for a walk and the stares and attention was overwhelming. The streets are choked with traffic and honking is a language in itself. There are larger apartment buildings and business buildings with tin shacks selling drinks and snacks lining the streets. There are new overpasses but 90% of the people actually successfully cross the roads. This leaves me baffled every time I see someone weave in and out of traffic that is packed and going what feels like at least 40km but maybe 60km. But back to the stares. Most looked confused, others happy and some blank. The difference between learning about a different culture and watching programs such as the passionate eye or discovery channel and being there is monumental. When I first stepped out my anxiety was through the roof. I felt like I had been delt some terrible news and was walking around in a daze with the wind knocked out of me. It has taken about a week and I am just now starting to relax when I walk around the cities. Yesterday I felt the most at home so far, dodging traffic and taking rickshaws to the market and back. I still don't know if I'd ever feel even 80% comfortable with getting around and the stares that I've been experiencing.
The RDRS staff and guesthouses have been phenomenal. We each have a roommate from the group and a common room to spend time together. Every meal has had variations and breakfast is definitely my favourite meal of the day with fresh bread, homemade nutella, eggs and juice. Lunch and dinner are more Bengali with rice and dahl served for every meal and three different vegetable sides. Robin, one of the RDRS staff told me I had perfect eating technique, at which time I blushed and then have been fumbling around ever since. The most comfortable time of the day is after dinner with tea, where we all sit at the table and have talks. I love this part because my family does this everytime I'm over for dinner so it's familiar.
There are two major aspects to Bangladesh that have really hit home for me so far. The first is the blatant spectrum of ultra poor to rich in Dhaka and even now in Rangpur. On the road there are rickshaws, auto rickshaws, buses in poor condition and then brand new cars. Off the road there are tin homes propped up right beside business buildings and hotels. Some of the stores we've been to have been housed in buildings that look like they would crumble if you even look at them, but once you go inside becomes a beautiful air conditioned department store.
At one point when we were driving in our brand new "only second time on the road" van, our driver hit a rickshaw with a passenger on it and the rickshaw flipped over. The driving in Dhaka is chaos and near accidents occur every second but the speed of the van and the sound of the collision took back the entire group. Our driver Tipu and the RDRS employee continued on shaken, but otherwise unchanged. We on the other hand, looked out the back of the van intently to see the two men stand up.
While on one hand I'm so glad they both seemed okay, I'm still extremely worried about what happened to both of them after the crash. They fell hard and permanent injuries and damage to the bike was a real possibility. I couldn't even think about what if it had been a woman and her child in the rickshaw. That one moment of contact could have changed the lives of the rickshaw driver and the passenger but we would never know because our driver just kept on going. I learned later it was because there was no way of knowing what would happen to our driver if he stopped. He could be pulled out of the van, be made to pay damages and lose his job. If we offered to pay for any damage a habit might be made of hitting foreigners for money.
The second major aspect of Bangladesh I've been having problems with is being a female foreigner in a conservative patriarchal society. On one hand we have been given preferential treatment in forms such as the right of way for traffic and customer service. We are always greeted very politely and doors literally open for us (with the help of doorstaff). We are allowed entry to the most guarded and prestigious hotels. On the other hand we are staying in a country where women are primarily caregivers and domestic day labourers while contributing in some way to family income.
As a foreign woman in Bangladesh I am subjected to this double sided set of assumptions that I'm finding I constantly have to mediate. Experiencing extreme preferential treatment but with the men being spoken to and served food first has left me feeling undone. Interacting with people becomes confusing as well. This is my first encounter with not knowing how to read my place within society.
But not everything so far has been this confusing or daunting! Every person I've met so far has been over the top kind. Forget friendly Manitoba, Bangladesh beats us by a landslide. Also on our third day here we went site seeing to the ancient capital of Sonagoah. It was like nothing I had ever seen. The old buildings were mostly red brick and the architecture reminded me of a cross between small plantation houses from the southern US and the old-saloons from western movies. You could easily picture the buildings in their glory days but today they were run down and crumbling due to neglect and humidity. I questioned my career choice of not going into archaeology.
We also stopped at a replica of the Taj Mahal. It was a great tourist spot and looked like it was a hot spot for couples. That was the longest time I've spent outside so far and I swear I sweat through my clothes. Speaking of clothes, I am now the proud owner of three new outfits! I still feel like I'm wearing my scarves wrong though and I make a point to observe every woman who walks by to see how they wear theirs. All of their clothing is absolutely beautiful.
One last thing I wanted to touch on was the fact that there is an abundance of cell phones in Bangladesh. I wasn't expected to see so many and the range of economic classes who use them. Even little children walking down the street on a cell phone seems like a normal thing here. On our drive to Rangpur we saw billboards advertising cell phones to farmers in rural areas. I would love to know more about how cell phones have changed the country and communication here. Considering that land lines were most likely not prevalent before cell phones, I would find it so interesting to learn how it all worked and the direction cell phone use is taking.
We are now in Rangpur, a city roughly seven hours north of Dhaka. There are much fewer cars here but the population density hasn't changed at all. I'm sad we will be leaving for a few days tomorrow but look forward to having this as our home base.
Last, I just wanted to point out that although the driving makes me incredibly nervous and anxious in this country I have to thank my friend Katie for her driving skills in Winnipeg for getting me through this first week of what most people might feel are near death experiences. Thank you.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
BSLE 2010 Begins!
Welcome friends and family to my first post!
Right now I am sitting amongst all of my things yet to be packed and I thought this would be a perfect break to do some blogging. I am also taking a break from helping my sister and her husband move today (the Buchoks enjoy scheduling important life events all at once for a challenge).
I am leaving for Bangladesh tomorrow and I cannot believe it’s already time to go. I’ll be there for five weeks participating in the Bangladesh Service Learning Experience with the University of Manitoba. After hearing about all the great experiences others have had in past years, I had to apply in my last year of University. I’m graduating with an advanced degree in anthropology, and the opportunity to immerse myself in another culture for five weeks allows me a first hand chance to experience elements of my degree not possible to do in Winnipeg.
Starting months ago people started to ask me if I was getting excited for this trip. While on the one hand I get so worked up sometimes I feel like I could actually combust, between graduating and having to say goodbye to an establishment that has given me so much over the years, I feel more anxious and melancholy than anything. I also equate the feeling to bracing before a giant wave, one I felt before when I first moved to Winnipeg. One that comes with a life changing moment that you know will somehow change you forever. This might start to sound heavy but in reality I’m ready to dive in!....Wait, did I just start using ocean metaphors? It must be late and I apologize, it won’t happen again.
Five hours have elapsed since I began writing this blog and I’m almost all packed up. I can’t wait to see the rest of the team tomorrow and start this amazing journey! I will do my best to keep up with my posts and keep in contact with everyone!
Yours Truly,
Celia
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