exposing the hilltracks

It seems to easy to overlook this population of indigenous people in Bangladesh. It is such a beautiful culture of traditional music, dance, drumming and drama... and somehow I am so far removed from it. These are dances and performances from a UNDP sponsored event that was conducted to bring into light those communities which have been discriminated against and pushed to the fringes of Bangladeshi society in many ways. Their land has been raided, entire communities killed in order to slowly allow the mainstream Bangladeshis to take over. But in fact, these people are Bangladeshi's too, these are the Chittagong Hilltracks people who have been so overlooked. I am delighted to seem them light up and stage and be the center of attention. It was a beautiful and powerful performance.

Martyred Intellectuals

Why is development moving at such a slow pace in Bangladesh? Well, lets not go into issues of flooding, over population, massive urban migration, climate change effects, food insecurity, and continuous corruption in government decision making… no, despite all this maybe some has to go with the wiping out of the more intellectual established individuals in Bangladesh. Today is Martyred Intellectual Day in Bangladesh, a remembrance and tribute to the individuals who were killed at the end of the Liberation war in 1971. Pakistani forces killed 3 million people at that time, violating women and made a plot to kill Bangladesh’s best and more prominent intellectuals to cripple the nation even further. Academics, doctors, engineers, professors, and journalists were killed from their homes and dumped around the city, leaving the nation to have to “grow up again” so to speak, pushing it back and basically leaving the country to rebuild their intellect from the bottom up. Two days after this massive martyr, Bangladesh gained freedom and victory… but the cost was a huge loss of the backbone and brains of the country.

We all piled into a microbus, that would us safely on our 5 hour journey to rural Matlab, south east of Dhaka city. As public health students, getting to take the trip to ICDDR,B’s hospital in Matlab is a very excited excursion for us. There is no other research hospital like this one in the entire world, and it is most knows for its convenience in conducting clinical vaccine trials. They have established intervention and control groups in such a precise way, that is it used for research projects around the world.

We went to conduct a small scale study on fever→ who it effects, what they do to treat it, and what was the final diagnosis. We spent two days roaming the village, going house to house asking about cases of febrile illness. When we found one (which was very often!), we would stay and talk with the respondent about their experience. Due to the nature of Bangladeshis (being the curious and family orientated type), I spent my days roaming with children, photographing the incredible landscape and enjoying some fresh air and day long walks, which you never ever get in the crowded capital!

It it times like these that I fall back in love with this wonderful country. It is full of people who are so hospitable, and full of joy, and the country side is breathtaking. When you see places like this, you wonder how it could possibly be one of the most densely populated countries on earth… until you make the journey back to Dhaka.

The days the roads are filled with blood. Yes, I remember how excited I was to witness this Muslim holiday last year, and as I remember, it wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought. This year, I could barely pull myself out of bed by 10… I was just not looking forward to the sounds of goats crying out for their last beath, the sights of cows the size of small elephants being skinned, the the smell that floods densely polluted air. The nice thing about eid, is that the streets are virtually empty, a sight that only those who live in this place and have to deal with honks, jams and hours on end each day spent in traffic can resonate with.

I spent the morning with Rahib’s beautiful nephew who is learning to walk, and then went for a lamb bbq at a friends place. Their neighbors had some of the largest cows in Dhaka, obviously brought in from India, and waited til the evening hours to slaughter their cows. Many of the pictures of the crowds you see here, are the beggars waiting for a portion of the meat to be given to them. The crowd was building all day as we watched from the 5th floor balcony… only getting more intense as the sun began to set. Beggars had been waiting for hours and hours with plastic bags in hand, hoping to get a portion of the fresh cow flesh being sacrificed for Eid.

H1N1 fear?

I would like to discuss this issue, from a personal and public health perspective. H1N1 virus, we might also hear the terms “swine flu” or a crazy outbreak of influenza that has shifted it’s genome to a new, and deadlier strain. Lets first discuss the name, “swine flu”, its very bad. I mean I know it’s a lot easier to remember, and in order for the general public to put a certain disease in context we should name it something that is easy to pronounce, but calling it “swine flu” really stigmatizing the pigs you know? I mean they are living animals too aren’t they? Ok well more importantly, calling it “swine flu” has had huge ramifications on trade, and negatively impacted economies around the world that will find it devastatingly difficult to recover from. If we could have helped a little by keeping the pigs out of it, we could have possible saved a lot of money.

Secondly, what is this H1N1 thing? As a soon-to-be public health “practitioner” (whatever that means?!), I look at this in two ways. I first look at it like most of you who are not in the medical field… what is this crazy disease and what can I do to protect me and my family from it! It apparently is killing off thousands, people are panicking so I better be too… Wrong. Then I have to take a step back and look at this pandemic in context. Actually, lets take a second to look at the numbers. So far there have been 6,174 confirmed deaths according to WHO. Worldwide the “common flu” alone causes between 250-500,000 deaths worldwide. So you might be worried about the common flu more… just a thought. Its actually impacting the middle ages, and not so much the youngest and oldest in the population which is quite striking, its not what we would expect in comparison to other diseases. Secondly, people are freaking out about this flu, running out from their houses and flooding the health system. Well, this really doesn’t do us any good… because first of all you are more likely to catch H1N1 just by going into one of these virus infected clinics so stay away if you have anything else, and also over 75% of these people are too late in seeking care anyways to get any kind of medication so you better just go home and rest. Why do I say this? Tamiflu needs to be used within 2 days of onset of symptoms or its not gonna do you any good, but most of us would probably wait it out and see if things got better and by that time, its simply too late.

If you are in the developed world, you have the luxury of taking off work, being indoors, drinking lots of clean water and taking fever reducers… but its not so easy in Bangladesh. So many people are missing out on the information that is necessary to protect themselves, especially in the rural areas, like basic hygiene and sanitation messages. We also live in one of the most densely populated countries in the world, so you can imagine the impact that has on the spread of an infectious disease. Furthermore, we don’t have the kind of health infrastructure that is needed to even distribute drugs or vaccines if they were available and affordable. So what to do? The question is a but more difficult under such rough conditions. People wear masks… well they did for about a week, but what else can we do to help keep this H1N1 under control here? I mean if its gonna get out of control anywhere, a likely candidate is Bangladesh so we are working to do everything we can to go against the odds!

All this being said, definitely watch out for the symptoms, get help early if you need it (especially if you have preexisting conditions)… but this is just food for thought and a reminder that panic doesn’t do us any good. Rather what we are working towards, in the area of public health, is spreading messages that are clear and actually spread the truth… not a fabricated or disillusioned version of the truth. So be healthy now and don’t always fall for what’s on the surface!

Malnutrition. hard. core.

I held the smallest 1 year old in my life today. She was a twin, and irritable when she was away from her other half. She was dressed in handmade top that that tied up the middle, though I thought it would be better suited for a doll. Her pale, anemic face was expressive… her eyes narrowed and eyebrows cinched in the center of her face that was no larger than the palm of my hand. She striked a glare at every stranger in the room. Her twin was much more patient with onlookers, and even though she was protective of her sister and herself, she looked even a bit healthier than her counterpart. I guess its true; a happy baby is a healthy baby... even happiness on a small scale.

Millions of kids die each year across the world through complications of malnutrition… and its something that is so easy to prevent right? Well partly yes, and partly know. It seems quite simple, you just feed a kid and it grows right? All you need to do is feed them… but when I wandered the lab of the largest diarrhea hospital in the world, the hospital where ORS (oral rehydration therapy) was first promoted on a large scale, along with the cholera cot invention, I wonder how mothers could let their children get this bad? Wasting away, not able to hold their head, why did mother’s wait so long to seek care?

There are so many reasons to explain why this happens to children in Bangladesh.
• Socio economic status- people are poor, and they either they can’t afford proper nutrition to their children, they breast feed for up to 2 years without feeding anything else because they simple don’t know, or they just think their child is thin and there really isn’t anything wrong… until a mad case of diarrhea wipes the child out to barely nothing.
• Exclusive Breast feeding… is GOOD! But only for 6 months, some of the mothers were feeding the kids solely on breast milk up to 2 years… as you can imagine a 2 year old child looked like a dying 1 year old, completely stunted and wasted for its age.
• Big families… can result in neglect of the other children, and lack of money to feed them and treat them properly
• Child Spacing- one lady was taking care of her two year old who was severely malnourished, and she had to leave ever 2 hours to feed her other infant… talk about a busy mother.
• Young mothers and malnourished mothers- I saw an 18 year old mother holding a dying 2 year old child from severe pneumonia, diarrhea and malnutrition… all the while she was taking care of another infant, and she was anorexic herself. If the mother isn’t healthy, we can’t expect the breast milk of that mother to be healthy.
• Lack of awareness- mothers simple don’t know how to treat the children when they fall sick, they continue to seek traditional care and my the time they resort to a hospital, it sometimes is too late.
• Food insecurity… In Bangladesh with the impacts of global climate change, mothers do not have as many opportunities to get foods to cheap.
• Structural factors- accessibility- there are not the resources in rural Bangladesh where women have to travel across land and sea for days to react the nearest big hospital where they can properly treat malnutrition.
• Sanitation- if the mothers aren’t using clean water, this can result in more acute illnesses, leading to severe dehydration, loss of appetite, and hence malnutrition.

There are so many factors that lead children to acquire severe acute malnutrition… I used to walk through the ward and see these children, and be so overwhelmed and angered that children were so neglected. Maybe that is the case with a few of them, but then I realized that the mothers are not only to blame for such neglect. In fact, it is more the overarching societal structure that cause such horrific things to happen on the grassroots level. The government doesn’t acknowledge the needs of these starving children, public health interventions do not focus enough on this global burden of malnutrition, which leads many of the mothers to continue to be naïve about the issue. After all, mothers can only make good decisions about their children if the options are available and if they know about the problem at hand.

Therefore, the solution is complex! BUT we need support systems from the government and some better educated mothers in order to break out of this continuous cycle of poverty that exists.

I wish I had a photo to show you from my own hospital, but due to ethical reasons I don’t feel comfortable breaking that privacy of my own patients. This photo is from an online search, and just the beginning of what I have been seeing and studying these past weeks. I now realize that treating and taking care of the patient, and also the overarching system in which malnutrition happens is a necessity in Bangladesh and around the globe. Thanks for being interested in this issue.

As I am getting ready to start my thesis, I am building as many contacts and picking the brains of as many scholars as I can get my hands on. With that being said, networking I have learned is one of the biggest keys to success in Bangladesh, and probably not different from everywhere else in the world. Fulbright helps too! After chatting with the head of USAID, meeting the health department and getting involved in their Bangladesh AIDS Project, I found myself out in the field one afternoon. As I am interested in studying HIV/AIDS among vulnerable populations, we checked out the sites of a drop-in-center for males, and a drug rehabilitation center for females. There was such a stark difference between the two environments.

The drop in center was strategically located, aka hidden. We got dropped off in a chaotic intersection in mohammedpur deep in Dhaka city, trekked down a flooded back street and then entered what looked like an open market in the ground floor of an old cement building without windows or doors. Weaving our way through stalls of computer speakers, cell phone sim cards, brooms and gamsha towels…. We walked up the 2 flights to the USAID drop in center. If you didn’t know where to find it, you definitely would have been lost.

Inside we evaluated the clinical resources, HIV testing center, and got to see a dance from the MSMs who gather in the center socially for support. It was thriving with Bangladeshi culture, and you could tell that everyone that was there, really wanted to be there, sharing their hardships with each other.

The next place we visited wasn’t as joyful. Women who are drug addicts are given a chance to enter this rehabilitation center to restart their lives. But its not always so simple. It is a 3 month program, and many of them may choose to stay on longer to help with the program and have a place to live, but others when they leave the center after the program, end of back on the streets, falling back into the same crowds and same habits that they just worked so hard to overcome. 90% of the women relapse, and we wonder, what can we do to make this program more sustainable? The most obvious answer is bridging the gap between the center and the real world, which can be done through creating jobs and tangible job skills, but there just aren’t he resources or infrastructure for such expansion right now. And after talking with the women, I found it to be so depressing that they are working so hard to take a courageous step to get out of their old lifestyles (many of the women got involved in drugs because of their family influences, drug lords as husbands or brothers or fathers), and the doctors and social workers believe so much in helping these women that they dedicated their life to this. But something needs to change.

Moral Dillema?

I went to the field a few weeks ago to do some photographing for World Food Programme. They need pictures displaying the current food insecurity issues in Bangladesh, which I found very difficult to capture. I realized, as I sifted through thousands of photographs trying to find something that resembles the issues of nutrition, water and hygiene, women suffering and food insecurity, and I realized that I didn't have any pictures of the like. I realized that even though I am surrounded by extreme poverty, and hardship everyday, I never can get myself to capture it on film. I don't know if that is a good thing or a bad thing, maybe I think if I don't have photographs of it, then I will forget that it exists... its just too hard to reflect upon sometimes. But I think this is exactly what WFP was trying to promote, a photographer's awareness to the real issues that are being faced everyday. It was a difficult project to say the least, here is just a little bit of what I came up with.

Giving birth at home?

80% of births are performed at home in Bangladesh. As you can imagine, it is very culturally defined and seen as a regular experience that a women undergoes as part of being a mother. This birthing experience is usually accompanied by a traditional birth attendant (usually untrained just learned the tricks of the trade throughout the years from generation to generation), and other community women. It is all considered a natural experience, and doesn’t require the help of doctors.

As much we, as public health experts, need to respect cultural tradition and practices, we also have to realize that these practices have led to many deaths that are easily preventable. Women die from complications that could easily be prevented by saline, simple procedures and clean supplies, or minimal drugs.

This is where MANOSHI comes into play. This small referral and delivery center works in the community, identifying pregnant mothers at early stages, working with them to provide them antenatal care, community meetings. While this all may seem quite boring for a lot of you to read through, but those of you who have delivered babies, and are mothers, I’m sure you can related to how difficult it must be to lack infrastructure, a place to go in case of an emergency, and just overall education about what to do and what is happening in your bodies. It is incredibly important in the field f public health to address these issues, because as women in the developed world we have only a 1/8000 chance of dying during delivery, and on average in the developing world it’s a 1/76 chance… many countries even as low as 1/10 chance of mortality.

Even in America we are seeing this “trend” of giving birth at home, or not taking epidurals to make a statement, or just because of any kinds of medical or social pressure or belief. As all well and good as this is, its only because we have the choice to do so. These women really don’t have the choices that we have about accessing health care systems, and I shouldn’t say that this doesn’t happen in America either…because there are many people in our backyard that still don’t have access to these services that are really a human right. We all, as human beings living on this planet, have the right to life and health in whatever scope that may be. Lets get this same access and choice to the rest of the world to use formalized training for delivery. After all, its a natural part of life that should not result in preventable death.

Agony & Ecstacy

When I was invited to an evening event called a “trany fashion show”, I really didn’t understand the context in which I was getting involved. Agony and Ecstasy is a cultural evening organized by Bandhu Social Welfare Society, who are known for their advocacy work in supporting sexual health and well being of males in Bangladesh. I have heard about the organization briefly in the past from working with UNAIDS, and even met the program manager of the organization at a UNAIDS conference last year, but really didn’t think anything of it.

Since I am in Bangladesh trying to understand the concept, issues, dilemmas, stigma, discrimination, vulnerable groups, prevention and treatment of HIV/AIDS and other opportunistic diseases relating to HIV transmission, I thought I should definitely give more of a look to the transsexual population in Bangladesh. I have been working with vulnerable groups with my previous work in India, such as sex worker studies, and working with injecting drug users and domestic violence cases in HIV/AIDS prevention, and even talking with a few MSMs in India, but honestly the “hijra” population was frightening to me. Frightening only because society has shaped these people to be different, to be outsiders, to be shunned, and looks at them as “freaky”… and like any normal human being my opinions were shaped by those around me, before actually taking a closer look at the issue. But of course, human experiences and interactions always have a huge role to plan in shaping our opinions about an issue, even if they are skewed… and I will explain via example what I mean by this.

One afternoon I was roaming around New market, probably the most populated place on earth, where everyone around Bangladesh comes to do their home, grocery, fashion, hardware, school shopping… you name it, New market has it. It is absolutely overwhelming and even the days that I go there for an adventure, I come back regrettably exhausted never wanting to go back. Its just that insane. You meet people form all walks of life, but mostly Bangladeshis who are just curious about why a white person would be wandering the muddy and congested streets on a hot afternoon.

I was in a little shop buying some thread and buttons for some new shalwar camiz that I was making (local Bangladeshi dress), when two hijras, decked up in sarees and all, grabbed my shoulder and shouted in a high-pitched and flamboyant voice “girl, you give me money!!!!”. I was like “umm no!”, mind you I absolutely hate it when people touch me, you touch me and its over, we are not becoming friends. And for the next few moments they harassed me as I shopped around and then I scooted out of that place. Ever since then I had a picture of what I thought all hijras are like in the back of my mind. They are just rude and pushy and I didn’t want to have anything to do with them. I was completely wrong by the way.

Now I have gone back to look at the story of hijras, this completely isolated group in society, which they are all over the world, but especially so in southeast Asia. You have to lose your family to express yourself, and if you join to network of other hijras for support… you always have the chance of them rejecting you if you take a mainstream job (which are hardy ever available), or don’t sell yourself for sex. It’s a very complex social situation that they face to say the least, one that most of us will never have to understand.

For this reason, Banshu Social Welfare Society, formed in 1996 to address human rights concerts regarding abuse, denial of sexual health rights, and provide a rights-based approach to health and social services for the most stigmatized and vulnerable populations in Bangladesh (hijras/kothis, and their partners). Since the main health sector will not even treat them, something has to happen outside of what the government is already doing, and Bandhu along with USAID, FHI and numerous other institutions is helping put their rights into place. We need to acknowledge transsexuals as human beings, after all don’t we all have the right to freedom in terms of basic health care? More so, the labor market in Bangladesh does not accept hijras into the work force, and bandhu is working and striving to get them into the workforce so they can turn from sex work and have another form of livelihood.

There is so much to learn about this population in Bangladesh, and I cannot even touch the surface in this conversation, but I hope that as I continue to dig into this issue furthest you will have an open mind to talking about such issues. And, like I have learned the hard way, break away from the social opinions already formed into a view that at least acknowledges every human being as equal.

All-American Wedding

You may wonder what its like to return home after being away for practically a year in the third world. Well clearly, its very difficult to put into words, since that amount of time spent away from your own culture, your home, your family and friends you have known your entire life, will clearly change you. Especially when it is a place where there is no one like me, an altogether different language, a different culture, a different religion and different lifestyle, the only thing you can do is learn to adapt. But there is something fundamental about myself that I have come to learn and I am now realizing that I have taken it for granted: my ability to adapt.

I realized this though many long talks with people who have worked in development, spent time in the global south, and witnessed harsher conditions that most of us ever dream about in the Midwest. This place is not for everyone, yet I find it completely fascinating, beautiful and I consider it a part of me, even though it can be entirely frustrating and claustrophobic. Bangladesh is a place that I tend to paint in a grandiose way, in fact I really love it but I often find myself maybe describing it in a way that is “benefit of the doubt”, until I have a hard day and then those days are usually painting with bias and rage. But every time I take a step out of my life in Bangladesh, I find that I miss it more than ever. Yes its hot, polluted, stiff and difficult to maneuver… but that is part of the adventure of living here. At this point in my life I cannot imagine being anywhere else, and I know what you are thinking… Sara you have gone crazy! Well maybe a little bit, this place will make everyone a little “pagol” but I am thankful that I have learned how to live in this place, so much so that I actually find it hard to leave even for a short vacation.

I recently went home to northern Michigan for my second brother Dan’s wedding. It was the most relaxing wedding I have ever witnessed really! I mean typically you hear about mad chaos the 3 days before the wedding but everyone was just enjoying each others company and everything went smoothly. I didn’t even see the bride freak out when there was rain on the morning of her wedding day! (by the way Liz maybe you did and I didn’t see but props to you!) Thankfully the weather cleared up just in time for their beautiful outdoor summer wedding overlooking the beautiful scenery at Timberlee. I kept thinking to myself how perfect the wedding was for Dan and Liz, it was exactly what they wanted and I am so glad that I was able to make it home for this special day!

The rest of my trip to America included boating on the great lakes, golfing in the cherry capital of the world, sailing on lake Michigan, climbing the famous sand dunes, eating lots of amazing cherry food and warren’s amazing cooking, bbq's and even a day in New York City. It was a perfect two weeks in America, now I have to get back to work! Ciao!

Monsoon Where Art Thou?

Is there such thing as a monsoon, or it is a concept that exists in fiction, in books, on CNN? It seems to be a notion that humans on the opposite side of the world have been faced with since the beginning of time. In fact, when I begin to picture what it means to be covered in tens of meters of water, I think about “yaweh” parting the red sea for his people… then by his power released the waves to cover the enemy. A naturally occurring substance, that makes up majority of the earth’s surface and even our bodies has a power like nothing else to take life, and to give life. When growing up in northern America, this perfect combination of 2 parts hydrogen and one part oxygen has been beautiful, calm, and fresh. A concept that Bangladesh hardly knows.

The months of July and August are known to be months of excess, months of immobility, loss and flows of water that make it difficult for millions to survive. An extreme from the rest of the year in Bangladesh, which is faced with extreme water shortages, and access to clean water is hardly a normal occurrence. The rain is a necessity of a land of rice paddy’s, greenery, and agriculture, yet Mother Nature likes to withhold rain from this land until a breaking point in which when it rains, it literally pours. The road I used to travel weekly to Savar, outside of the city, in the past was surrounded by rice plantations, field workers, and brick factories. What was once a place that could be traveled across by foot, it now only accessible by boat. Hundred year old trees that are 5 times as tall as me are nearly engulfed by water.

Even so, the rain has been said to be at a low this year until this past week. I finally know what it feels like to be trapped in a monsoon. As I was riding a rickshaw home the other afternoon, I was kicking myself as usual for forgetting an umbrella (which is an everyday occurrence because I haven’t been able to predict this crazy rain pattern). It began to pour and the bike that I was riding in was literally covered in water up to the ankles of the driver. We were riding through a shallow lake, trying to dodge the pot holes beneath meters of water from sheer memory since there was no way to detect where the holes were. Every few seconds we would drop into a hole and the bike would go underwater. But the driver wasn’t worried, instead he was thinking, “finally… we were thirsty”!

North Bengal. Dinajpur

I have been itching to get out of this crazy city for ages. I always make it a point to see as much as I can of a country when I travel, and I have been here so long, in such a little country and I feel like there is still so much that I need to see! I keep telling myself that I have so much time, but its about time I get to seeing this place because I am on my last 6 months here!

Dinjapur is located in North Bengal, an overnight train ride from Dhaka. Overnight trains are fun, especially in the south where things are crazy, people crowd around and watch your every move because they have never seen something like me before, or they are just waiting to rob me (o wait don’t mean to scare you, those things really are not common in Bangladesh…). I sat down in the waiting area at the train station, when I noticed scratching and odd noises from my feet. There they were, bunches of chickens just chilling in the waiting room, just waiting to freak out people like me who are not used to that sort of thing! Since the chickens to my right were freaking me out, I moved a little to the left where there was an older Bengali gentleman reading the newspaper, particularly an article about Obama. He looked at me and smiled, and we connected over our love for this President. Well beyond him sat a boy, who was about 18 years old, but to me seemed like a very young boy. He literally was so fascinated with me that he was basically sitting on top of the gentleman with the newspaper so he could have a good look at me. I thought it was funny, so I talked to him and he kept moving closer to us until he decided that it wasn’t enough just to talk to us and ask a million questions… so he began to recite his own Bengali poetry. He went on for about 10 minutes about love and wind and skies and whatnot… I’m sure it was inspired by Tagore, one of the most spectacular writers of all time coming from Bangladesh. Then he tried to steal my Pocahantas book (which was in Bangla of course and one of my favorite reading materials ever so needless to say, I was a little pissed by this time).

Upon arriving in Dinajpur after the most insane train ride I have ever experienced, we found peace and quiet, open fields, and a slow paced life. It was so green everywhere you looked, with beautiful rickshaws, clean streets and people roaming with simple lives. It was absolutely spectacular. We stayed in an old village home, from before the independence of Bangladesh in 1971. Actually, during the war the family had to flee to north India, and left behind their home, which was looted by the Pakistani army and left in shambles. Upon returning, as you can imagine, the family was devastated that they had lost everything, even part of their home. They eventually returned and made their home their own once again, and this time in a land called Bangladesh. Just walking through the home, you can feel the history that this place has, from the cool and smooth cement floors, to the old black and white photographs that crookedly lined the walls… everything had so much character. Each day auntie cooked us spectacular Bengali food over traditional outdoor ovens, and we gorged on mangos and lichees… the best fruit in the world!

red clay villages.

Flat tires n' mud puddles.

Its getting about that time of year when the rain starts to fall. I have lived here since October and I am pretty sure that it has been bright and sunny every single day except for 3. That is pretty darn consistent weather and I am ready for a change. When it comes to Bangladesh its all or nothing. Hot and sunny and unbearable heat, or pourrrrring down rain for days, where the rain wipes out village and routes that used to be traveled by road are now taken by boat (I haven’t witnessed this yet but I will be sure to report thoroughly on my first monsoon experience!).

We got a little bit of taste of the new weather today. Jawaid and Brianna came out to the school of public health to visit me and Lameck. We decided to take a bike ride through the surrounding villages, when we were hit with numerous challenges along the way… such as 2 bikes getting flat tires…. And one bike getting a flat tire twice! The beautiful thing about facing challenges in this country is that I have just learned to not worry, and take it as an opportunity to practice my bangla. As the rain was pouring down, the potholes in the dirty roads began to fill at an unquantifiable pace and we sat under the small roof covering a long wooden bench at the “cha” tea stall. We cuddled together, already soaked and laughed and used lots of gestures and broken bangla to talk to the villagers.

When the bike was finally fixed, we wandered down a new road, taking us out over two bridges where you could see open green fields on each side, with no houses or people, just fields of rice filling quickly with the rainwater that Bangladesh desperately needed. When I need sights like this, I wonder how in the world this country can be the most densely populated in the world, there is just so much space, I could run for miles without being crowded (of course when you make it back to Dhaka city you feel the heat of millions of people piled into a few square kilometers- the contrast is amazing actually, it’s a sight that needs to be seen).

We rode for hours, until we were riding down dark slippery streets to get home, and I remember telling myself that I would never ride these dinky old bikes in the dark again because last time it was so much trouble…All in all the rain and mess that we had to go through to have a good sight of the villages this time of year was by far worth all the effort.

Sunsets, Mosques, Lights and Futbol.

This evening we took a trip to the old futbol stadium in Dhaka for their club football quarter final game. A friend of ours hold a VIP box so we all piled in to watch an evening game in an empty stadium. Apparently after the Bangladeshi Cricket team took off, that became the popular sport, an futbol is now shoved under the rug only for the hardcore dedicated fans who don't just follow the trend. It was a nice relaxing evening, and the sun setting over the green field with what looked like abandoned building filling the skline left for an erie ambiance over this part of the city. The buildings with barred windows and broken neon signs made me think we were in a dingy and abandoned part of the city, but aparently we were in the banking capital. I guess the banks keep the money on the inside, and make people like me believe that its a run down shack so I don't perform a robbery or anything of the like.

My 23rd Harpy Bipthday

I am one that has a bad memory. You know its kind of like how children have select hearing when they are asked to do the dishes, but they always remember that mom said they could have ice cream on Tuesday. Weird, but its happening to me…except I am forgetting with age and not selection I think. Its my 23rd birthday and I couldn’t remember for the life of me where I spent my last birthday… but then I was remembering that I think its because I wasn’t home I was in Amsterdam visiting Jason! Is that true jay??? I like to look back on “monumental” days one year last to see how far I have come ( or how crazy my life has changed). And that it surely has.

My wonderful amazing friends in Dhaka city through me an awesome birthday party last weekend (President of Sara’s Birthday Club: Rahib, Vice President and all time lover of party planning and DJ-ing with cheesy mixes- David Shapiro) They rented out the top story of the American club, everything was lit by small icicle lights under the cabana of a cloudy evening awaiting the monsoon. It was beautiful, all of my hilarious and wonderful friends came as we danced the night away… but of course no gathering in Dhaka would be complete without a night full of conversations probing each other’s development, health and microfinance research because everyone is just that passionate. I was debating whether I should do a project within the Bangladesh Health Ministry on AIDS policy, or if I should go a different direction focusing on a sociological study on the upper class and educated health seeking and risk behaviors. As of now I’m leaning towards AIDS policy because after all my love for sociology and anthropology… policy is where all the change happens in this world right Dr. Johnson? I think you are the one who predicted that within just a few short years I would be involved in politics and policy making… well we shall see…

Red, White and...Orange.

I have never felt so alive in this place. All you need are a few open streets and a reason to celebrate the new year, and you are soon to be surrounded by millions, literally millions of Bangladeshis celebrating loud instruments and with new clothes in the colors of red, orange and white. This 14th day of April, I have to say, has been my favorite holiday in Bangladesh. We headed down to the most culturally “happening” place in Dhaka, all around Dhaka University, and it was flooded… with people that is. Now if I would have come to such an event during my first days in Dhaka I would have been so overwhelmed that I would have turned around, went home and probably flew back to America for that matter! But after spending the past 6 months in arguable the most densely populated country in the world… I know what its like to never have your own space. Everything you have you share with everyone else because there is literally no space and no privacy. Inevitably that means your life has to slow down, and you have to develop my favorite characteristic: patience (which I still haven’t mastered). You just have to learn to love it. And that I do.

In addition to the millions of souls, there were amazing pieces of artwork everywhere, from an outdoor photography gallery, to 40 foot tall colorful masks and toys and instruments for sale everywhere were contributing to the cloud of intense sound that was blanketing the entire country of Bangladesh. I’m usually not into those cheesy sorts of things, but a friend gave me one of those spin wheels made out of colorful paper and I was amused all day as you will see from the pictures haha. Every time the wind would blow it would create an array of moving color before my eyes, and I felt like a child in a candy shop (in particular I felt like I was just on my ritual routine to the dentist in Wauwatosa as a kid when we would head to the candy shop called “not just nuts” across to street to get back to rotting our teeth… I was simply that happy dad!). We also bough some string instrument that I see everywhere in Bangladesh, and some little drums to we could contribute to the madness.

As you can imagine it didn’t take us long to get noticed, the 2 white people that is! EVERY SINGLE PERSON, I KID YOU NOT wanted a picture of us or with us. I felt like Britney Spears walking through downtown Chicago 7 years ago in her glory days, or maybe more like Hannah Montana in small town America. I felt like I was captain Cannavaro stuck in a mess of die-hard futbol fans after a world cup victory. I was the Bill Gates releasing windows to the world, or the ever so popular OBAMA. There wasn’t a moment of my existence that 10 people were not staring and collecting photographs of me. In fact, there was a point when we were standing on the roof of Dhaka University Fine arts school overlooking the crowds dancing and celebrating, when all of the sudden the hundreds of people shifted their attention to us… and we found ourselves on every TV news station, and on the cover the Bangladeshi newspaper the next day. We were quite a hit for doing nothing but celebrating, and that made us feel quite good!

What a colorful, wonderful and exhausting day.

Chai Ci Tomar Bondhuta!

It’s a funny story actually. I got an acting gig in what they call a “natok” in these parts of the world, which is a short tv drama… so much more legit that the actual Dhallywood movie scene so it was actually pretty cool to get this opportunity. I really had no idea what I was getting myself into.

It was a regular afternoon, after spending 4 hours sitting in the classroom learning bangla grammar, I really wanted to get out and apply it. I was on my usual routine, stopped by to see my friend Mili in a little fashion boutique where I would sit and speak Bangla with her everyday after class. This was we were just chatting and I was getting ready to run out the door, when one of the store customers stopped me and complimented my bangla. After a long morning the last thing I really wanted to do was speak anymore bangla, but since she was impressed I just had to stick it out a little longer! We chatted, and she spoke entirely too fast for me to understand everything, but I just pretended I did with the typical “heee heeee acha acha”. She handed me her card, while explaining that she has been on the lookout for a new actress to act in her special Nobo Borsho film (Bangla New Year), and she thought I would be perfect. Of course, she knew me too well already that I was not ever going to turn down an opportunity to have a new "cultural experience"!

A few weeks later, over tea and nasta we had a deal, I was the new foreign girl who would be acting in the drama, it would be close to a true story about an america girl in Bangladesh, getting involved in the film industry very unexpectedly… and the relationships and drama and hardships that come along.

So the time had finally come, it was the weekend of the shooting and I was expected to report at 7am sharp. Well, realizing very quickly that things tend to run a little behind in Bangladesh, I set my alarm for 8am, knowing full well that I would still have plenty of time to stall before heading to the set. Around 9 am I got a text, saying to just chill out and be cool, someone will be there to pick you up shortly. Another hour went by and I was happy since I was laying in bed, dozing in and out of the much needed sleep that I desperately needed after a long week of classes. Before I know it, it was noon so I wandered out of my house and down to the American Club for my ritual Friday morning American breakfast and Starbucks coffee… probably the most comforting feeling and highlight of my week to say the least☺ Well by this time I was completely over it, I mean there was no way I was going to be able to act now I was just too distracted and not going to be able to perform well after so many schedule changes. So I was quite happy when I got the message that the shoot had been canceled. “This is so Bangladeshi” I muttered to myself, just thinking again and again that I shouldn’t be surprised at such a little hiccup. Things always seem to work out. And come to find out later, the reason for canceling the shoot was quite interesting…. ("political drama" between other media directors and writers and the big shot actor, led to threats that caused the prodction house to have to cancel the entire shoot that weekend until things cleared up and things were safe. Talk about a good movie plot...)

Well since that was a bust, when the next weekend rolled around, and it was the big study weekend before my epidemiology exam, I was quite annoyed that I hadn’t gotten his over with last weekend. I was now cramming and preparing for my first big acting gig ever, in a different language! When I finally got to the set down near Dhaka University, things were rolling and a lot of the footage had already been shot. It met everyone, unable to distinguish who were really the film set crew, and who were the actors who were playing the roles of film set crew members (since the film was actually about the set of a movie, it got rather confusing at times!). Again, I waited and waited for my shot to be ready and then I was put into place. I cannot even begin to explain the nervousness that came over my body. I was out in the open with at least 30 onlookers crowded around, listening to every word that pored out of my mouth. Deep down I was already nervous, thinking “ man these people chose me for this part and they have no idea that I can't even act... that is too bad for them!” Nervous, not remembering bangla, everyone staring, pointing, laughing and taking pictures and then there is me: sweating in the bright midday sun I was freaking out. But that is the thing. I had to get over it, and tell myself that I don’t know these people and I can only do the best that I can do…. I also realized that the most I freeze up and become shy, the stupider I look so I had to exaggerate and go all out... although later in watching the film I realized that all my great acting techniques didn’t really shine through in the movie haha. Acting is much much harder than I ever realized, especially when you are on a time schedule, have a budget, and have so many people relying on you and that particular shot. It’s a tough biz!

After the first take I was able to chill out with my co-actors and actresses and opened up. We shared some Bengali street food, took walks around the park and ate lots of dal, bhat, and murghi together over lunch with our hands… after that we were totally bonded together and could let lose and just be ourselves on the set. That is what I learned the most… you have to be comfortable first with yourself because if you are comfortable with yourself then you can “act” in any setting, with anyone around you. But it also helps if you are comfortable with the people on the set. At first, since I know nothing about acting and the only thing I had in my bag of tricks was to be myself, I had to get to know the people who I would be spending the next 48 hours with… and I am so glad I did! By the first afternoon we were laughing and sharing so many good times together… it came to a point where it was hard for me to keep a straight face and get “angry” on camera because to me, these were my friends… and I had to yell at them like I hated them! By 9pm I was getting exhausted. We switched sets to a film shooting home, and I fell asleep in the makeup room. Much of filming is sitting around until the director is ready for your one shot, and then you are put into place for 5 minutes and then you wait again for another few hours. Its tedious and time consuming, but I had fun company and that really made the experience worth every second!

I remember one shot in particular where I had been woken up from my nap, threw on some makeup and had to do a shot at 12:30 am having to act like it was my surprise birthday party. Now, let me tell you this was tough considering I had just been woken up from a glorious nap and had to actually be demonstrating excitement and true happiness☺ In the dancing scene, me and the “top model actor” had to dance together in a forest for a coconut hair oil commercial and just made it up as we went… it was blast but what you don’t see in the movie is how many shots we actually took of that 3 minute long dance to “tomake chai ami aro kache”, which will forever me the soundtrack to my life in Bangladesh, and won’t leave my mind for at least the next month. Between each take we were sweating like crazy, and boys would run up to us with water and tissue, but after a while nothing would help, we were just looking soaked! I think I also didn’t mention the intensity of attention that was being drawn to this set… I mean not only did I have to speak in another language but I had to improvise my character on the spot in a crowd of Bangladeshi onlookers. But after a while, you just get used to it when you are a foreigner in Bangladesh… its like every day of my life.

By the end of the shooting, we were getting ready to wrap things up at the end of the second night, and as I was dreading my epidemiology exam the next day, which I had been studying in my off hours, I just couldn’t help but want to stay and hang around with everyone from the set. They definitely became my family, my brothers, in those 2 days and not being around their jokes and charisma was definitely going to leave a gap in my life!

By the next weekend we were working on media outlets for the drama, it was advertised on tv with a short commercial, and the leading actor and myself, and the director got our very own radio show! Stationed at the top of the Gulshan 2 circle towers, and overlooking Dhaka city on Nobboborsho ( Bangladesh’s New Year) we could look down over the city on the beautiful sunny day, to everyone celebrating, and wearing red and white. We discussed the film, sang our theme song and they cracked jokes about me in bangla that I had to pretend to understand on live radio. People called in and asked silly questions to us and we had a blast as usually and got to eat lots of Bangladeshi sweets. There was even a Mosorrof fan (the big big famous actor in the film) who heard him on the radio and ran all the way form his hour 30 minutes away just to get a peek at Mosorrof. As we were leaving the studio, the young guy ran up to him and about knocked him out with a strong hug. He was fanatic and out of control. Morshorof kept his cool, an acted as if that was his brother and everything was just totally normal. After he left he proceeded to tell me that he had never seen that guy in his life… some dedicated and intense fan that is for sure!

As of now, the DVD is in stores, and apparently there are posters in DVD shops that I can only imagine will take a matter of hours for all the Dhaka city dwellers to spot me, its not like I can blend it. What a fun experience I had, I met beautiful people who were extremely talented and made me laugh until my stomach hurt. I’m looking forward to the sequel coming up soon!

The Dusty Road Home.

In the nearby village yesterday, we fond ourselves conversing with people here and there, roaming around until everyone in the village knew we were there. So far we had built relationships with a few different family, that always insisted on feeding us more and more food… hospitality is one things that Bangladesh will never be short of. Everyone was open to talking to us, when we visited one home, the surrounding homes quickly found out there were foreigners in the village and they couldn’t help but come and look over the shoulders of our respondents. This welcoming feeling I have never experienced anywhere else in the world, and its especially astonishing coming from America, where people are way too busy with this jam packed schedules that they spend their 10 minute breaks running to Starbucks for their next energy boost, for send off computer written messages to friends who live in the same state. Man if that were a Bangladeshi, they would have gotten on the local city bus after work and just went to see that friend who lives in the same state. I’m not saying that Bangladeshi’s don’t love their tea time, but instead of getting the 5 shot venti extra hot skinny latte to go, imagine Bangladeshi style Starbucks: The tea bell rings and all chaos breaks out, actually 5 minutes before the tea bell everyone is in anticipation for the tea bell so really the tea break should just be 25 minutes instead of 20, but then again, they are always a bit late so just bump it up to 30 if you are trying to plan something. Everyone clusters together at the end of the counter, reaching for the next cup as it becomes available and the barista is thinking… man I’m glad I’m not out there… I just want my coffee and I want to get outta here. They take tea in the cup the size of a shot glass, you know those little sample cups they give away, most of us would say that is kid stuff… then they pack that thing full of sugar up to the half way marker, fill the other half with cream and toss out the teabag. I think the tea is more about the cream and sugar than the tea itself. Those who have tea in their hands could not be happier, of course the ones who don’t have tea are smiling too but never took a minute to wonder why those who already have the tea won’t just move out of the way. No, they just stand there at the end of the coffee bar, in Starbucks and if you are and onlooker you are thinking again… these people are absolutely crazy. Patient of course, but crazy! The noise lever at this point has risen 3 decibels, and you have lost 20% of your hearing because they just love to talk that much. Those in the back don’t get tea, because the didn’t have the courage to push through, but that ok because at least they got to socialize. We can apply these social themes to many kinds of interactions and situations in Bangladesh. Ok back to the village.

We stopped along a dusty desolate road to talk with a woman who was sweeping rice into a pile under the sweltering mid morning sun. “Auntie” we said to get her attention. We asked her to talk, and she motioned us under a big tree that birthed a large plot of shaded land. She continued her work as we waited in the dry grass that yearned for a bit of rain. While we waited I watched a young boy, wearing only a pair of shorts and a necklace around his neck to ward off evil, ride an old crickety rusted bike down a hill into a tree. He laughed. All the other kids laughed too although I couldn’t tell by the look on his face that he did not do it intentionally. And so I laughed. The woman came, giggling and shy to talk to us, but the men that came around were not. One insisted that we had to come to his house because e had many problems: His wife left him because he beat her under the influence of drugs, and he had been in the business of sending young girls from that village abroad for prostitution. After that we were a bit shaken up to say the least.

In the evening we stayed late to finish a focus group discussion, when they got to asking us many many questions about the origin of AIDS, we couldn’t leave. The sun had went down, and we walked our bikes through the small yards, and through the fields until we reached the main road. With no lights and only the shining headlights of big trucks in the distance, I was a bit nervous. We pedaled down the dusty road, trying to dodge potholes that were invisible at this time of night. The dry sand pulled the bike side to side, and when trucks would come we would ride our bikes off into the field on the side of the dusty road. The two strong headlights coming straight towards us was blinding, especially when the truck would pass and we would be left in the pitch black for our eyes to readjust, when they were already trying to adjust to the amount of dust that was stirred up and place in our eyeballs.

But there are stretches of the road that reminded me that I am living in such a desolate place, you could hear the bugs in the air, feel the little small breeze against your face and even see the stars above. In that very moment I realize where I am, and I feel relieved and thankful for the experience to be here, to learn, and to grow in sharing and communicating with people who are worlds different from me. Yet deep down we have the same heart and are not really that different after all.

I picked up acting?

I somehow find myself in these crazy circumstances, this time landing me a lead role in what we call a “Natok” in bangla… a Bangladeshi soap opera so to speak. Lets just say that one say I was speaking Bangla to a friend who works in a little clothing boutique, and before I knew it I was getting offers to be the lead role in a little film that will be released on Bangladesh’s new year. I will be playing the role of an American girl, who travels to Bangladesh alone in search of her boyfriend. When she hasn’t heard from him for weeks she travels throughout Dhaka and parts of the country looking for her true love. Through this time she discovers a lot about Bangladesh, going on adventures that she never dreamed of and really falls for this place. I don’t want to give away the end because you will all have to see it, but I think its one of those cheesy and cute shows.

Anyways I did my first shooting- well practice run that is, last week in old Dhaka. We went to one of the oldest parts of town and filmed in a few historical places, such as Karjon hall. We got lot of attention form onlookers not only because I am white and draw a lot of attention, but I was speaking a little bangla and everyone is so amazed at that. My co-actor is quite a well known guy in Bangladesh and so therefore everyone was very intrigued.

I am really excited about this opportunity. Not only will it give me a great opportunity to get to know a lot about Dhaka city, but also help my bangla skills a lot! I will be speaking a mix of English and bangla for the film, but all the English will have to be followed by the bangla translation. Trust me, this is not easy, especially after only learning the language for 4 months! But hey, I love the challenge! It was featured in the local newspaper last week, so lets just hope it turns out as well as they all expect!

Wonderland

Sometimes you just have to let it all go and be a kid. So right down the street from our house is some kind of amusement park which draw a lot of curiosity since it looks like something out of the Flintstones to me with lots of colors and balloons, there are kinds outside into late hours of the nigh eating cotton candy and hittin up the rides. We decided it was time to give it a shot. I think the pictures really say it all, but I have to say that Henry, David and I had some really hard laughs. My favorite was when we rode this machine that like something like a “water rollercoaster”. We put on raincoats and sat in a swam compartment where our bent knees would barely fit into the cart. Basically we got soaked at the end of the adventurous track with water that probably has been sitting in that pool for the past few years, infested with all sorts of infectious diseases. Well I am still alive and well, and we all had a good laugh! It pays to bring out the kid that lives deep inside of all of us☺

Chobi Mela

Igniting my photography creativity, I visited the Chobi Mela (http://www.chobimela.org/) today, an International Festival of Photography in Bangladesh exhibiting renown photographers from all over the world on a variety of different projects. It was really interesting seeing artists from all over the world displaying images of anything from the battles in Nepal, to architecture in eastern Europe, the liberation war of Bangladesh, to women’s rights in Afghanistan. Every artists had his or own unique style and it was a very diverse show- there were even mini galleries on the back of riskshaws circling the city! Dhanmondi has so much more art and cultural diversity than up where I live so it was really refreshing to see so much going on! My friend Raaj took me for my first amazing Paan experience- a whole in the wall in the alley off of one of the busiest roads in Dhanmondi. We walked it to see antique brass jars and an old hooka with room for one 3 men to sit cross legged behind a class counter assembling paan- something like an origami project. I have never seen paan so ornate and colorful! Basically a betel leaf filled with different sweets and hard candies, it was folded and dipped in another sweet sauce before I had to put the entire thing in my mouth- and I though sushi was hard to eat! It was awesome and the best paan I have ever had in Bangladesh and if you ever want to have some I don’t know that I would ever be able to find it again and I think that is the beauty of it.

Liberation War

Today, Henry and I took a little trip to the Liberation War museum to learn a little more about the history of Bangladesh. A brutal one at that, a guerrilla war broke out where more rape was so widespread and systematic that it appeared to be an attempt to change the racial make-up of the nation. Before the independence of Bangladesh, intellectuals and some of the most talented in academics and the arts were targeted and murdered by the Pakistanis. In 1971, the People’s Republic of Bangladesh was born into chaos- shattered by war and a disrupted economy was just the beginning. Shortly after this, the famine of 1973-1974 set Bangladesh into a state of disarray. A state of emergency was declared in 1974 when Sheikh Mujib was declared president, however him and his entire household was slaughtered during a military coup on 15 August 1975. One two of his daughters survived- one being Sheikh Hasina- who would become the prime minister in 2006 and was currently reelected as the prime minister just this past December.

This might not be the exciting post but important to know a lil Bangla history for contextual purposes... and includes the importance of me learning Bengali- respect and dedication:)

HIV/AIDS Design for Life

“As a designer this is a perfect opportunity to speak out for HIV/AIDS because real beauty is not what the eye can behold. It lies within each and every one of us.” –Farzana Shakil

Today was a very monumental day for me, as I launched my first HIV/AIDS awareness event and fashion show all in the same place. Working with UNAIDS gave me an excellent opportunity to help with an awareness event in which we worked with Bangladesh’s 10 most creative and influential designers in a show that we called “Design for life”. As a joint effort between UNAIDS and UNWA to continue battling the ongoing deadly disease, we used fashion to promote awareness through different lines in which all pieces had to be inspired by the “red ribbon theme” that we are all so aware of in America. The designers really had to be creative to come up with something really unique being limited to red, black , and white and the theme of HIV/AIDS awareness- but I found myself constantly astonished at how diverse each collection was.
The show started with Tinku’s collection of Mughal-inspired kameezes with high waists and full skirts teamed with churidars. He also included princess-line kameezes with Mandarin collars for an Asian and vintage era inspired look. His collection was topped off with old-school glam makeup and bold floral headscarves as the models pranced to “chiquitita” from the infamous Mamma Mia.

Aneela Haque’s line features a line of her signature text fabrics, inspired from her travels and studies in china, London, and Bangla poetry. Her line told a story that started off with an innocent bride coming down the runway with her head covered with her flame of love burning bright for her fiancé at the other end of the runway.

World renown fashion designer and runway model, Bibi Russel was up next with a wild collection incorporating elements of the European countryside with quirky train from Bangladesh’s rural scene Peasant skirts, bodices and the milk-maid headscarf teamed with narrow pajamas and red ribbon women sarees and a mixture of wild accessories made this line unlike any other.

All the designers did an incredible job at incorporating the theme and we are so thankful that they were so eager to jump on board a new kind of awareness campaign in Bangladesh. Education is key to the HIV/AIDS response in Bangladesh, since it has not spread as fast in other places, but this doesn’t mean that we should be silent about HIV/AIDS- and an artistic approach to addressing the stigma against those face with HIV/AIDS was a very humbling experience. It was incredible! This is definitely what I want to be a part of- a place where I can combine my passion for the arts and funnel the talents into facing issues that face each and every one of us in society to raise social consciousness. As Kuhu (one of the artists) says, “As an artist, these are the things that we need to fight for.”

Dynamic of leaving.

Living in the developed world, you meet people from all over the world who are doing really amazing things that are really making a difference, and we all come here because we all have a very strong bond in common… we want to work towards change. Meeting people is encouraging, and although it may be for just a day, or last for months to come, the relationships that I have made here have made my life in Bangladesh what it is. Relationships are basically the focal point of my life, everything relies around them- whether it be my bangla language practice, the people I see day in and day out on the street, or the long term friends that have taught me so much about who I am, who I am becoming, and hat I really want out of this experience… they really make me fall more in love with Bangladesh. Bangladesh really is for a unique kind of person, and everyone that I have met here has been so characteristically distinct, yet grounded in something so strong.

The hard thing about this is that my experiences here change drastically month to month. The people, the relationships, which I have said are basically the most important part of my life, keep changing, growing, and the group dynamic of my friends is always growing in different directions. It was first the Marci and Hans stage, and when they left I couldn’t imagine Dhaka life without them- still not the same. Looking back, things were different then, and I really miss what they brought to this place. Now we are in a different stage, and I feel now that Matt and Andrei are leaving things are also going to be so different. When I finally adjust to something, and adjust to having certain people in my life, it seems that they just get up and go. That is one of hardest parts of being in development, seeing people come and go, some stay for a short time, some a bit longer, and only a few seem like stay forever (aka me… out of all expats I know at the moment… I will outstay them all). But the dynamic of our work brings us to different places at any given time. Its great to see Matt going to South Africa, and Andrea going to Fiji, but I’m wondering how much longer I can do this- now I understand what those long term people were talking about when they said they really can’t hang out with people who are staying a short time- you just miss them too much!

Majesty from the past

Bangladesh may have a young history when it comes to it’s independence, but that it not to say that you can’t find reminiscences of magnificent ancient beauty from the far far past. Sonargaon was once the administrative centre of east Bengal under the Muslim rulers and dates back to about 400 years (This year actually being the 400 year celebration). The literal meaning of the name means “golden village” and it truly is a gem. Sunargaon is about 27 km southeast of Dhaka, but took us about 2 hours to reach even on a low traffic day! We spent most of our time in the medieval palace, where we were brought back to the 19th century trading center for cotton, and chiefly Musin fabrics. The architectural structures were bravura, with inspiration following a colonial style with inspiration from Europeans.

We had a picturesque day in the park, with a picnic, and roaming the park and admired the beautiful hand-woven fabrics that Bangladesh is known for. We even took a spin on a prehistoric “Bangladeshi” Ferris wheel made of wood which I will say what quite an adventure in itself. The creaking screaming sound of the wood makes you cringe, you have to see the video to believe this.

In contrast to our visit to the oldest city in Bangladesh, we went to see one of the newest structures being built… The second Taj mahal! Now, everything I read about this was that it was supposed to be an exact life size replicata of the Taj, basically a gift to the Bangladeshi people from one rich rich fellow so that bangladeshis wouldn’t have to make the expensive trek to Agra India to see the real thing. But anyone who chose to replace their visit to India with this one will be missing out. It was humorous, and interesting that even though the structure wasn’t even finished, they were still letting people in to see it- now that wouldn’t happen in America. It was fun, very fun, but please go see the real thing! O ya, and I thought to myself if he really has that much money, why didn’t he make something that would be unique to Bangladesh and the rest of the world? Just my thoughts!

Design for AIDS

After many weeks of jumping from project to project, getting a bit frustrated in my bangla lessons and not realizing where I really fit in UNAIDS with my research, I was put on a project that couldn’t have been more perfect for me as an artist and a public heath advocate- The Design for AIDS project.

The design for AIDS project combines 2 of my biggest passions: art and public health for an innovative way to spread awareness about HIV/AIDS in Bangladesh and combating stigma through the arts. What is really great about this project is that it is involving those who have not been particularly involved in this kind of work before, actually it’s the 2nd annual awareness show and this year’s theme is HIV/AIDS. We have been working with 10 of Dhaka’s top designers, where they each have designed a line under the red ribbon theme. The dresses will be presented at a fashion show on January 30th at the Radisson hotel, where they will then be auctioned off throughout the evening.

I had the privilege of interviewing all of the designers the past few weeks, and writing about their work and their motivation to work in HIV/AIDS. Working with a fabulous photographer, Bitu, we will combine our work with creative graphic designers to produce a book about the even and the designers which will be released at the end of the month as well. This is the first real tangible product that will be produced from my project so I am really excited. We are currently working on gathering media outlets to bring more attention to HIV/AIDS in the media, and have people talking about the even and we hope that there will be more events like this in the future. Who said that art and public health weren’t compatible? This is just the beginning to my future endeavors in this subject inshallah!

T then P

I had to take Jasmine down to the streets of Old Dhaka, where everything that really happens in Dhaka, happens. We ran into some other fellow travelers from Mexico and the US and we discussed how it is a perfect time to visit and explore the small and dense country of Bangladesh, because they haven't really caught onto tourism. Of course, this can be both a pro and con, as it makes life very difficult to manage, and things don't always run as planned, but usually you don't have to worry about all the tourists coming in and corrupting the natural flow. I say its a good time to be here!

The pink palace was beautiful at this time of day the sun was bouncing off the burnt orange walls so perfectly. The Pink Palace was built in 1872 and standing on the river Buriganga, this stately building offers the visitors a feeling of the life-style of the Nawabs of Dhaka.

It seems that you really have to search to find the gems in this city, one of my favs is Hindu street, where the roads are narrow and crowded, and when you take a few small turns you find yourself in a street that takes you out of this country and into another land. Filled with colors, bindis and glittering paintings of Hindu Gods and Goddesses you really feel the Hindu community come alive. We sat and asked about all the Gods and Goddesses, mostly because I had to use the bathroom which is always a problem in this country which I'm sure you could have guessed, so I wandered through a dark cave full of hurdles and ducking from the low ceilings and after many twists, turns, staircases, doors and locks and windows I finally made it to their humble home, where they basically wouldn’t let me use the bathroom without having tea first.

Sorry Santa... no snow!

Despite all the traveling I do, I never truly thought that I would spend a Christmas away from home. After all, it is the best time of the year to be home, enjoying valuable, irreplaceable time with friends and family, the only time of the year where I actually get to slow down and enjoy the cheer (except for those few stressful moments leading up to Christmas eve when I’m searching for the perfect gift that I never truly find). But this year was definitey a bit different. I spent the first Christmas in my 22 years of living, away from home. It was my first Christmas without snow, many days without that “christmas cheer” that seems to spread to quickly in America… but just doesn’t exist in the same manner in this country. It was hard to spend Christmas in a muslim country, but surprisingly enough we still had our schedules packed with fun holiday things to do.

Some other expats, med students, Fulbrighters and my friend Jasmine who was visitng from the states all gathered together at a friends house for Christmas eve dinner. Good food, good company, and even for my first time… egg nog. It was always something I avoided in the states, just never had the appeal… but I guess I was missing the states that much that I decided to try it, and you know what… it was actually quite good (although I was missing your Tom and Jerry’s uncle Mark!). After dinner we went over to a rooftop party where it was adorned with holiday decor, and everyone wearing red and in the holiday spirit. They may not have known what they were celebrating, but they were celebrating all right!

Christmas morning we went to church trimmed in sarees, sang Christmas carols and even the Bengali children joined along! It was a blessed day, but still didn’t quite feel like Christmas until… Shammu Bhay and Zara Apa’s Christmas day dinner. Shammu and Zara are some of the first people I met in Dhaka city and so wonderful to throw a huge Christmas feast for all of their friends. When I arrived at their beautifull decorated apartment, fit with a tree, Santa hats, live music, cocktails, endless amounts of food, and even a turkey- it really did feel like Christmas. We spent the evening eating and visiting with interesting and wonderful peole who are all working to accomplish incredible goals. It will definitely go down as one of my most memorable, and “at home” feelings in Dhaka. Thanks Shammu and Zara!

Srimongol

After picking Jasmine up from the airport and visiting Dhaka a bit in the evening time, we got on an early morning train to Srimongol in the state up north called Sylhet, known for their numerous tea gardens.

After a 4 hour train ride we arrived safely in the small city of Srimongol, where our “eco-cottage” owner was there to greet us at the station. We rode 15 minutes out of the city, through winding roads and quite a crisp breeze in terms of Bangladeshi weather, until we reached the little cottage overlooking a very meager river in the middle of nowhere. It was quiet and such a relief to be free from the air and sound pollution of Dhaka for a few days. We settled in and had an interesting conversation with the owner about what it truly means to be “ecofriendly”. Really, it seemed that it was more about being aware of the environment than actually changing habits since he really couldn’t articulate what that word really meant… maybe it was a bit of the language barrier too ( I mean after all they did use pink toilet paper.. yikes!)

After a home cooked Bangladeshi lunch that tasted like “village”, and consisted of lots of rice, we wandered out through the dirt roads and met some village children and wandered the fields. We found our way down to the city, saw some rickshaw art, and shared some tea with new friends. After seeing the entire the quaint city and learning about various types of street food and trying them all, we decided to go again for tea ( I think on average I had tea 6 times a day in Srimongol). This was not just any tea, but 5 layer tea! It was about a 20 minute rickshaw ride through dark tea fields, the three boys squeezed onto one rickshaw while Jazzy and I led the way to a little roadside tea stand. It was packed with groups of friends and families and only lit by a few lamps on the edges of the premises. The tea was fabulous, and I saw the biggest spider I have ever seen in my life, I think it was as big as my hand! One of our Bangladeshi friends took my camera to look through the pictures, and said “hey I know her”, I looked at the picture and it was my friend Marci who has visited Srimongol 2 months back. Apparently our new friend Liton met Marci and Hans when then visited earlier as well… what a small world! I forgot to mention that I also fell into a drainage ditch while walking like a klutz and likely because I was surprised by the sight of a 4 year old carrying bricks and helping with the construction of a hindu temple… anyways, it wouldn’t have even been that bad but I was wearing white pants in addition to the fact that in Bangladesh these aren’t just any drainage ditches, they are also where men regularly urinate. All I can really do it laugh now☺

At this point in the evening all light had completely passed. Again, piling onto rickshaws, it was basically like riding a rollercoaster through a black hole since there was no light, lots of hills, and basically the whole way we were either singing or screaming. Now, thanks to lonely planet and their warning about tea garden bandits, I didn’t dare let us travel anywhere by ourselves, especially at night. We were about ¾ of the way back to our hotel, and our rickshaw driver was getting pretty tired… the roads are very hilly and he had to jump off the bike and push for a lot of the way. Basically it was pretty slow moving and I felt bad for the guy but I’m sure he could handle it since he does things like this all the time. All of a sudden our friend jumped off the rickshaw behind us and ran ahead to tell us to be silent and he’ll explain later. Well, he jumped back on his rickshaw and they took off… and this point a minorly freaked as Jazzy and I hardly took a breath we squeezed each other’s hands for dear dear life. I didn’t know if our new friends were for or against us but we just kept quiet while our rickshaw driver tried to keep up.

10 minutes later we caught up and they said that we were just passing through a bad part of town and we needed to keep quiet or else… you never know. Well thank goodness we didn’t know until afterward …

The next morning we woke up at 7 for our Srimongol tour, that started with a hike through one of the rain forests. As we got further into the
Lowacherra forest, we ran up a steep hill to a little tribal village. There are 11 tribal villages in and around Srimongol, and to me one of the coolest places to see in this area. We visited with locals, played with their kids and they gave us bracelets that they had made. Women told us that their homes were made out of soil, and they actually don’t wash away in the monsoon season since they have to be built in the hot season in order to “bake” the soil to a crisp so it stays solid.

Next, we worked our way through the tea plantations to a beautiful lake. It was calm and there were gorgeous Lotus flowers stemming out all around the shoreline. Besides the garbage that was dumped into the lake after the recent Hindu holidays, it was a beautiful sight.

In the evening we worked our way back to town and witnessed a crazy political rally that we tried to steel clear of but, brought us a lot of interest considering the crazy political situation in Bangladesh right now. We went to a huge bazaar and learned every vegetable and food product name in Bangla. It was a gorgeous 3 story market full of colorful vegetables and all kinds of food, and we even had “paan” for the first time…(a popular mixture in the Indian subcontinent which consists of chewing Betel leaf (Piper betle) combined with the areca nut as a palate or breath freshener) I thought it was rather vile but I tried to chew it for at least 10 seconds.

In 2 short days I think we saw everything that Srimongol had to offer and it was nice to get away and take a break from the crazy city and get some sleep. We took an early morning bus back to Dhaka, which would have taken 3.5 hours but since traffic is something that Dhaka is just known for, it took us at least 5. Oh traffic= home sweet “Dhaka” home.

Gazipur- A day trip outside the city just because when you life in Dhaka you realize how much a day away from the madness can help.

An hour outside of Dhaka, David, Chris, Para and I spent the afternoon in a beautiful country garden home. When we rolled through the village, a bunch of people came up to our car acting like they knew us from way back when, but once we were on the property grounds of this huge gorgeous estate, we were safe and free from all distractions. We went up on the top floor and put out pillows and rugs out on the balcony and felt like we were in the times of Arabian Nights. We basked in the sun, one of the only places where I could wear a bikini and not be started at…. That was rejuvenating! We relaxed, listened to music, and read all day. It was the day of relief and relaxation that I needed.

Before the sun was setting I really wanted to venture out into the villages in the area. I wanted to see what was going on in the lives of those living outside Dhaka city. Para and I wandered with a cup of tea, and people thought we were crazy… n one takes tea to go! We walked down a path, over the green swampy marshes surrounding the house, and played with children who ran wild and freely barefoot with no fears or reservations. I was able to practice some bangla and “jump around” with the kids, and Para even drove a rickshaw. After about 10 minutes we were the talk of the town, and we wandered through their village, past huge round stack of hay, fields will roaming cows, over a rickety old bridge that raised us up over banks of waters and greenery. It seemed that everywhere you looked, it was green. Some houses were being eaten alive my all the wild growing plants and trees, others being filled with the effects of global warming and were unreachable without a boat. And as I enjoyed the scenery and the kids’ pleasant company, it began to sink in that the difficulties of living in this region must be unprecedented. Global warming is effecting Bangladesh in ways that you can’t see from America, but when you are sitting in the midst of it all, seeing the struggling, and realizing that this densely populated country is losing their land by the days to the sea.. .its quite unbelievable.

Eid Mubarak: And I thought this only happened in biblical times. A little graphic.

Today is the second largest religious festival to the Muslims on the Bangladeshi calendar, called Eid-ul-Azha. Well off Muslims will sacrifice animals, cows, goats and even camels if you are rich, and distribute the meat among their family, neighbors and the poor to commemorate Hazrat Ibrahim’s devotion to Allah as the Muslims believe in his readiness to sacrifice his dearest son Hazrat Ismail (For those of you Christians, you might recognize this story as being similar to the story of Abraham and the sacrifice of his son Issac. Here they believe the other son was actually sent to be sacrificed). The whole reason families raise a sacrifice is to display their obedience and devotion to God, even when it means giving up something of great importance. Although “Eid” literally means “joy” in Arabic, it is not the frolicking kind of joy that you might picture, although the holiday brings families together and helps people remember their complete submission to the will of God.

So in honor of my cultural integration here in Dhaka, I really wanted to spend the Eid holiday with Bangladeshi friends to try to understand what this is really all about. Really, it’s true that you don’t really understand until you see it. I read a lot about Eid, thinking that I was preparing myself mentally for what was going to happen… the slaughtering of animals and the gushing of blood running through the streets… its something that you can’t completely be prepared for. I got up early in the morning, while everyone was at the mosque conducting their morning prayers I took the 6 km trip down to Old Dhaka (the very awesome and real part of town), which usually takes, between 1 and 2 hours and reached after 20 minutes since the roads were more empty than I have ever seen them! There were really no cars, but men in their white pajamis and white caps, carrying their prayer mats. Everyone looked crisp and clean going to prayer, quite a contrast to what will happen next.

When I arrived to the front of Lalbhag Fort, it had already begun. 2 cows were being skinned on the short walk down a few alleys to Nayan’s house. Nayan is my friend who will be taking Public Health classes with me at BRAC University, so he invited to me to his house for the morning sacrifice. I met his family and we walked down his street where there were 3 HUGE cows being tied down. What happened next happened too fast for me to even realize. He pulled me across the street and I watched 4 men holding down the already bound cow before a boy who makes the first cut (all these boys looked between the ages of 15-20 only!) showed up in a white dress, and 3 seconds later was covered in the brightest color red I have ever seen.

Now that everyone has arrived, Nayan’s family will prepare their cow to be sacrificed, which covers the duties of 7 people in the family. See, if you have a cow, that represents the sacrifice for 7, a goat for 1 person, and a camel for 17 people. Usually every man in the household and immediate family will have a part in the sacrifice, and they will spend from 9 until about 1 in the afternoon preparing the animal. They tie the cow, and sacrifice, let the blood run down the street before all the men carry the cow into their alley area where the skin is removed and the leather is sold to distributors and then the money given to the poor. The next few hours are spent gutting the cow, removing the meat, and equally measuring out the meat to be distributed equally into thirds. It was interesting to see the entire process from start to finish, and good to see that every part of the animal is used. It was disturbing at first, but you just get numb to it after a while, and I tried to forget that this was a living animal before. This is actually how we get our meat; I just never had to see it all happen before. I didn’t really have an appetite afterwards, but during the cutting and gutting they actually would stop mid-cut, with blood on their hands, to eat breakfast or have a cup of tea! I guess when you grow up with this happening traditionally every year it gives you quite a strong stomach.

Before leaving I was blessed with the opportunity to eat the heart of the cow that was just sacrificed that morning. Mmmm.

After stopping by a couple more houses of friends, I could barely move I ate so much! But really, you can’t turn down food when you go to someone’s house, especially on Eid. The significance of Eid and the sacrifice is something that one has to see with their own eyes… but I hope that my pictures can at least give you a taste.

World AIDS Day 2008 and new loves

What a perfect time for me to start spending time at UNAIDS. I used to spend my afternoons getting acquainted with Dhaka and wandering the streets practicing bangla, but I have just been toooo excited to start working on projects with UNAIDS, so World AIDS Day (December 1st of every year) I figured would be a perfect time to start!

We started the morning setting up an information booth at the Bangladesh Chinese Friendship center, this huge beautiful new building in Dhaka that was filled with probably close to 1000 people gathering to celebrate World AIDS Day. We were out there to promote the exchange of ideas and projects and programs with one another and the general public, so many different NGOs from the country came to set up and talk about their work in the field of HIV/AIDS… it was truly inspiring. The kickoff of the even was a rally that completely overtook the entire road, hundreds and hundred of people marching to HIV/AIDS awareness and education, there were people from independent agencies, researchers, and doctors, to sex workers and children… all in the same place to display the importance of coming together to combat and fight back against the stigma that is rising in Bangladesh around HIV/AIDS issues.

In the afternoon Supriya and I had a presentation for medical students and professional in the Public Health field in Bangladesh. We discussed HIV/AIDS issues in Bangladesh, and I have been gaining a lot of interest in the issue of HIV/AIDS awareness, sexual health, women’s reproductive health and addressing stigma through the media outlet. It is something that I want to be part of, awareness and getting the word out in a creative and influential was in a conservative Muslim country. Its not going to be the easiest task to pursue, but that is why I am so interested.

New friends are making this place a wonderful place to be, its all about the company:)

Giving Thanks in the developing world.

Our first thanksgiving celebration began about a week before thanksgiving at our apartment, where we had about 12 people over, we all cooked and ate good food (minus the turkey this time) and played the “I’m thankful for….” Game☺ Thanks to Shea and Annette I had wonderful thanksgiving cards to display on my door and dining room table to get into the spirit!
On real thanksgiving, Amy, the head of the American center invited all the Fulbright students and scholars over for a wonderful home cooked meal at her house. They have a beautiful house here in Dhaka, gorgeous gardens, and in these parts people know this home as the “gingerbread house”. Good food, great company, all that was missing was the afternoon football game (we had to wait another 8 hours to watch those games at least).
There are a lot of things to be thankful for here. The fact that I am living half way around the world, away from my family for the first time on Thanksgiving, and I still have a “home away from home” here really means a lot. It’s hard to believe that I will be missing all these holidays that have always brought me close to my family all these years. I really do miss them, but I have food on the table, a roof over my head, and wonderful friends and family here and back home and I am forever grateful for that. I am also thankful that I have a job that I absolutely love, and I don’t have to worry about the hardships of the American economy this year.
To all of you that shared thanksgiving with me: Thank you thank you thank you. To all of you that I have always shared it with: it definitely wasn’t the same without you.

Because sometimes you need to celebrate the details in life.

As the shock of arriving in Dhaka has been wearing off a bit, I am beginning to realize that my wiring has dwindled a bit. That doesn’t mean that less has been happening in my life, or what I think of you all any less, its just that things don’t always come as a shock to me as they did in the past.

On that note I have to say that a lot of my time in Dhaka revolves around writing and reflecting and trying to take in everything around me. I am trying to appreciate Bangladesh in it’s entirety, and therefore I have made a commitment to pay more attention to detail in my everyday life. What do I mean by this? Well of course it is easy to think of all the things that piss me off, make me inpatient and make me feel sick or miss home, this is to be expected anywhere you go… but today I am focusing on things that would likely not happen to me back home in America... to assist in my falling in love with Bangladesh. So the other day I woke up at my usual 7:00 (after hitting snooze for 30 minutes and basically running out the door… this has become a typical thing for me in the past week or so), and begin my short walk over to the lake to Banani. On the way, I had my bag grasped tightly under one shoulder, and used my other hand to hold my scarf over my mouth to prevent pollution particles from entering my lungs the best I could. After dodging mad mad mad traffic, and debating whether or not I should be evading traffic or jumping in front of the bus altogether, one woman came up to me and grabbed my hand . She didn’t say anything at first, just walked I asked her “kEmon achen?” and she replied in bangla, very good… which is what everyone always says even if they are having a terrible day. She continued to speak with me in bangla to get me warmed up for my class that would begin in approximately 3.5 minutes. We walked together all the way to my class, talked about her family and where she was headed, and then we parted ways. Simple gestures like this really make my day, and they rarely happen to me back home and for this I am thankful. I would like to think that I have brightened someone's day here as well, since I usually feel like an animal in a cage at a zoo with people starting and pointing and giggling all the time. It used to irritate me but you know what, no matter what I do people are still going to do these things, so I have learned to just laugh back and give them the ol’ bangla greeting… and then they really don’t know what to do.

Yesterday I went shopping and made another friend. This is also a typical routine, I go outside my house, and I come back with at least one new friend. I give them my phone number ( only sometimes tho) and then I end up with a million missed calls, and lots of bangla phone conversations which are really difficult when you are just a beginner. You think I would have learned my lesson by now, but I just keep telling myself that it will help my bangla skills if I talk to EVERYONE I meet. Its getting a bit overwhelming! Speaking of overwhelming, I went to the park today just to get away from the craziness, to take a walk and relax. So much for that, again I was the center of every single person’s conversation. Couples and families roamed the sidewalks, sitting between trees and popping up out of nowhere to have a good share at me. I realized that there was no way that I could comfortably relax or even walk around without being alone. So, instead of relaxing I decided to join in a classic game of cricket with the kids on the other side of the park. It wasn’t necessarily what I expected today, but as a white woman in this part of the world, you just have to go with the flow.

Fashion in Dhaka

Our friend Mantasha invited Marci and I over for a day of getting dolled up and dressing in the traditional Bengali dress, Salwar Kamiz and Sari’s. We were there all day, wearing pieces from her mom’s new collection, playing the streets of Dhaka, taking photographs and getting a lot of attention as you can imagine! It was such a blast!

This is basically what I wear all the time, not this fancy of course but these are the clothes that I wear in Bangladesh. I love it, and it gets me a little less noticed. Well, not really.

Mantasha is planning on submitting them to a magazine where we will be advertising the new winter line.

Public Health

Here is an article that was written about James P. Grant School of Public Health, the school where I will be taking classes in all areas of Public Health to help me to establish a firm foundation and perform sound research:)

Article

Old Dhaka

Now I know what they mean by the bustling streets of the “old city”… this is where Dhaka really comes alive, in all it’s romance… this is where I truly fell in love with this city.
After about an hour ride through traffic, I began to see the real life of Bangladeshis in this city, outside of the bubble of the diplomatic district. It was such a different feeling as soon as we arrived in the Old City, alive with university students: protesting or taking a stand for one issue or another, whether it be modern art, saving the trees, or a political rally, there is always something interesting (but sometimes dangerous) taking place in Old Dhaka. It was a beautiful day, a bit hot for my liking but you get used to that when you are living in Bangladesh. We had lunch at a little Thai restaurant before hitting the streets, taking pictures and just observing how people live their lives in this city. There were many buildings filled with skinned calves and various animals that were drying and then transported to another part of the city. As they moved the hides, loads of dust spilled onto onlookers including us… kind of disgusting but an experience non the less. Bangladeshi’s wandered the streets buying fruits and nuts in small portions, filling rickshaws with boxes to move here and there, while dodging goats who helped themselves to the left over’s that piled up on the street corners.
In this part of town we received a very different reaction than back in Gulshan and Banani… people were genuinely interested in who we were and talking to us. They posed for pictures and asked us where we came from. I practiced my few phrases of Bangla and asked children their names, if they had eaten lunch and where they go to school. That was enough to make our friendship last for hours, as they escorted us through their village while I saw barber shops set up on the street, a mirror stuck on a brick wall and maybe a cloth covering to shelter them from the sun if they were lucky. Finally, we reached the water where there was a large open beach area where the rest of the children were playing in the water that was squirting out of a pipe to a height of over 5 feet. When they saw us they did cartwheels and ran through the sand… when we got to the river we were ready to have a break from all the attention. Hans found a boat and called out to us “Come my ladies!”, Marci and I of course thought nothing of it until we heard the roaring crowd of onlookers repeat “Come my lady, come my lady!!!!”. We chuckled and thought about how fast that phrase is going to spread through Dhaka… if you ever hear someone say “Come my lady” in Dhaka, you know who to give all the credit.

We spent some time relaxing after our trek through dusty streets and sound polluted air by taking out a small boat on the Buriganga River. The river is only bout 500 meters wide, but filled with people going about their fascinating lives. Lots of people. Some are leisurely enjoying the company of friends on a river boat for the afternoon, that is steered by one driver reminding me of the gondola rides in Venice… minus the costliness, singing and hats… to me it is just as beautiful but in a VERY different way, and you all know how much I love Italy. You have views of people cooking, cleaning, and beating their clothes with soap before jumping in and bathing themselves in overly polluted river. Right down the way there are workers cleaning out trash cans, that have been recently emptied into the streets in another part of the city… I really don’t think there is much success as far as ridding the city of garbage.
We ended our river tour in front of the Ahsan Manzil, also known as the Pink Palace… you can’t miss it as it is the brightest and most beautiful structure in this part of town. It was build in the place of an old French factory by the city’s wealthiest land owner, Nawab Abdul Ghani.
By this time the crowds were growing and really getting to us. It got to the point where we could not walk anywhere without a huge gathering. It is fun at first to be friendly and open, but after a while you just really want space. Luckily we found some nice police officers who scolded everyone in sight and we were safe from the crowds until Iqbal came to pick us up. We all slept the entire way home, felt sick, and finally were in our nice warm beds in air-conditioned rooms… it had never felt like such a relief to be home.

Since pictures are worth 1000 words, I will not write at all today.

Just say NO to NO!

Say no to no-
through my past couple of weeks in Bangladesh I have realized that no everyone is willing to think beyond the here and now, and go to the difficult places to make change happen. What I have realized is that I am the kind of person who takes a challenge head on, and yes I may be overly optimistic, I believe that change in possible and I set my mind to conquering at least one minuscule part of larger world issues. I am beginning to realize that in the past, I have had the blessing of being surrounded by others with the same outlook on life, but now I am faced everyday with negative mentalities and energies. That is something that is very hard to overcome, but if I am able to overcome this I will only be stronger right? When people do not believe, and people around you and discouraging, it’s really hard to pick yourself up and push on... and I am left wondering, well is what I am doing making any bit of difference in the world? I think that no matter what, I need to continue to pick myself up, dream big, and push beyond the status quo… after all I think that is what Fulbright is all about. Optimism + relationships + open minds to others = really the fundamental truth in problem solving, truth and knowledge.

As I was flipping through the economist today I came across a shell ad that puts it into better words than I can… so I will enlighten you with that today. As I learn continuously here, I hope that no matter where YOU are placed, and what you are working towards; remember that there is always a way.

SAY NO TO NO
Isn’t it high time someone got negative about negativity?
Yes it is.
Look around. The world is full of things that, according to nay-sayers, should have never happened.
“Impossible.”
“Impractical.”
“No.”
And yet “yes.”
Yes, continents have been found.
Yes, men have played golf on the moon. (that’s for you Mr. Maxwell Evans!)
Yes, straw is being turned into biofuel to power cars.
Yes, yes, yes.
What does it take to turn no into yes?
Curiosity. An open mind. A willingness to take risks.
And, when the problem seems most insoluble, when the challenge is hardest, when everyone else is shaking their heads, to say:
Let’s go.

kEmon achen?

I visited BRAC University today, where I will be taking Public Health courses to help me develop the skills I need to really perform sound research. I met with a couple students from the program and I am really excited to get lots of field research experience under my belt, and get a grasp on bio statistics. One of the first projects they did was learning how to get to the “field”, basically learning the routes to the village they will be working in, and then taking a bike to get there before the sun rises to they could do their qualitative research and analysis as the research participants were starting their day.

Most of my time these days has been filled with language classes, which I have for 4 hours a day. The first 2 hours I spend in a phonetics class, learning how to speak and pronounce letters that basically sound the same to me, its really hard, the difference between T, th, J jh? Then I go directly to my reading and writing class where I get to learn how to write these beauuutiful letters! This is my favorite part. So I go to class, try to practice with the locals on my walk home and it’s a lot of fun. I stopped in a little store the other day, and I practiced my Bengali simple by saying, kEmon achen? –how are you? Well, everyone here gets really excited if you practice Bengali with them so they were eager to hear more! I ended up staying and chatting with some students, they told me to stop by everyday after class, I think I will!

Other than that I have had meetings with students and people I have met around Bangladesh for coffee and dinner, setting up my apartment, trying to build a new wardrobe of eastern clothes, working out and swimming almost everyday and trying to read and get started on some research lit reviews. I am still looking for a dance guru so that is my goal for this week!

Dhaka International Assembly

I woke up this morning to find a Church in Dhaka. This is something that I have made a commitment to, to find a body wherever I am in the world to be continuously encouraged by other believers. And I am so glad that I went. I attended a church that consisted of mostly Bengalis, a few expats but it was run by locals, which was really great experience. I didn’t want to just take a piece of America and plop it in Bangladesh, I wanted to understand how people here lived their lives out everyday as Christians, and how they worshiped our amazing God here half way across the world! The body of believers here is incredibly encouraging and I had a wonderful experience, met a lot of friends that introduced me to even more amazing things around Dhaka city. It was a rainy and gloomy day, but our hearts were more than cheerful. Especially since we had the best pizza in Dhaka for lunch ☺ I feel very blessed to have met a group of such wonderful people today who are completely ecstatic about living in Bangladesh. As I discussed Bangladesh with the others, I realized that the reason we are all fired about this place is because we believe that there is a reason we are here, and we trust that God has a plan for our time here. What a relief! Trusting in God and giving him my all everyday is the only way that I can live and love.

Dhaka Bhalo BaSi!

For a while now I have been in touch with Samrat, who I still have yet to meet since he moved away from Dhaka… tear!... but he still has managed to get me in touch with his amazing group of friends here in Dhaka. I went out to Zarah and Shammu’s Vietnamese restaurant, Le Saigon, life music, amazing food, great people. It was such a blast. People here socialize by going out to dinner and enjoying each other’s company and that is exactly what we did. I met the whole crew, danced the night away to some amazing American cover songs that were performed much better tonight that night than they were in the ‘80’s.

I also had tea with Condolezza Rice's neighbor today. His house in Bangladesh is quite beautiful I must say.

We all need a place to call home.

You might be able to understand a bit of the struggles that take place in this suffocating city by looking at these photographs. I just snapped these as we were driving by, crowds of people around bulldozers just wiping out flimsy homes in one large swoop. I couldn't’ believe what I was seeing. It was unreal to me, because something like this is unimaginable. People just watched as their houses were crushed, with everything inside, because the government decided they needed to take back that piece of land. “For what?” I wondered, since the government has not been able to make any tremendous strides when it comes to development in mind or a physical sense in this country, everything is at a standstill it seems, so why can’t we let these people have their homes? It’s barely a house, but everyone needs a place to call home. I don't really know how to deal with a lot of the things I see, because being one person I wonder what I can do... but then a realize that I need to have the mentality that change is possible and change will come and if I truly believe this my actions must follow. After all, this is what I want to do with my life, lend a strategic hand where I can help. There has to be something better. I don't think this is how things should stay, and God has called me to do something, anything, for and with these beautiful people.

Elections, in a state of emergency in Bangladesh

“You can pay more and help develop our country” said the real estate agent. All this time I really thought he was on our side, trying to help us find the best deal, and as frustrating as it is, we are always viewed as the rich foreigners and its really hard to come to terms with. Just so you all know, I do not believe that picking a more expensive apartment in Dhaka is going to make the country a better place. So I refuse to do so.

After an exhausting day in the city of madness, Marci, Suprya and I spent the evening enjoying Bengali snacks, white wine and a delicious dinner at Lisa’s apartment. As we enjoyed doing what most Bengali’s do best, eat lots of good food and extend loads of hospitality over good conversation, we tried to come to grips with that this country is facing politically at this point in time.

So what is all this hype I speak of about the elections coming up in this country? Well lets just say, government and politics run a bit differently here than in the U.S. - and although I am saddened that I will not be in the U.S. for one of the most important elections yet, I am here in a country that is also going through, possibly, a lot of change- or another stage of NO CHANGE which could mean something significant. We are less than 2 months away form the elections, but even though all the major political parties have amended their constitution to get registered with the Election Commission, there is still a risk that the country might relapse into anarchy and lawlessness that once dominated Bangladesh before the current government. It seems like it is always 3 steps forward and 2 steps back in this country.

Embassy is cool.

Today I found quite a western market just a couple of blocks from my house, they had skippy, cereal, the only thing difficult to figure out was the Milk situation. It was sitting unrefrigerated, and I was nervous to drink as such… but I took a chance. I am still living.

Today was my official security briefing at the embassy. I have been nervous about today for a while because everyone has told me how much they would scare me. Well, I was not able to even get into the embassy for 30 minutes considering all the security I had to undergo for my security briefing. As I have been considering taking the Foreign Service exam, I was evern more excited to spend some time in the embassy today. It was interesting, and I still haven’t made my decision but I don’t know if working there would give me enough experience on the grassroots level. It was really great to understand that my security is such an important issue for the US government, and I am thankful to be a citizen of my country, the United States of America, and trust me they really take care of us well overseas. The political situation in Bangladesh does send some concern my way. From now, leading up to December 18th when the elections will (or will not) occur, there will be a lot of unrest in Dhaka. If you avoid Dhaka University, where many of the students are hired on to represent as political activists to protest agendas, you should be ok… but the city is going to be very chaotic until then. The Bangladesh political situation is something I still have yet to understand, all I know is that the two oppositional groups seem to continue to overthrow each other and make life miserable in Bangladesh especially in terms of development, and this econtinutes until the other party decides to have another emergency election. As I gain more information about the situation I will gladly keep you all updated. Until then, know that I will be steering clear of the protests and keeping safe.

It was wonderful to visit with another fellow Fulbrigher, Tiffany. Somehow I managed to gain enough energy to get in a workout, a swim, and some darts with the guys. Good times, good laughs, and now I must go to sleep because I have a big day lined up tomorrow. Finding a place to get business cards made… because EVERYONE has them here, and if you don’t, you are basically a nobody so I have to prove them wrong!

Green Dhaka

Today was my first day outside in the bustling streets of everyday life in Dhaka. It was amazing. But let me warn you, before you pack your bags and decide to move to Dhaka right here right now because you are reading my blog and seeing how amazing it is… just take a few days to think about it. Dhaka is not for everyone, its frustrating because you can be stuck in traffic for over an hour for traveling less than a couple of kilometers. This can be really frustrating when you are wanting to walk because its so close, yet the weather is SO intense, so hot, and so many people that you can’t bear walking down the street for more than 10 minutes.

But Supriya and I decided to bear it, we took at cycle rickshaw across town to Gulshan 1, which is a bit outside the ex pat area, but still a safe and upper-class area. We visited Supriya’s family friend who brought her the complete season of the Office from the states… o my gosh…. Whenever we need a bit of back home, we will be set. We had tea and took a look out the window of their “lakeview apartment”. Well, lets just say, the “green lake view”. This lake was quite different from any lake that I have ever seen. The entire lake was covered in bright green algae, you couldn’t see any water, in fact I thought it just was a big lawn. I was almost mistaken. STILL BEAUTIFUL NONE THE LESS! Again, why I love Dhaka. Green Dhaka.

We spent the rest of the afternoon doing something that neither of us have any experience doing, apartment shopping! And apartment shopping in another country, it was quite the learning experience. Finding places was not the problem; we visited a handful of places by just picking buildings, and invading, taking a tour, and moving on. Lets say that they were pretty much all the same. After a few hours we were seeing the same places over and over and over until we ran into a Century 21 agent who took us under his wing… helped us find a couple more places… but then deceived us. Anyways, just in case you do want to move here, finding an apartment will not be the problem, but narrowing down the billions to the perfect place for you will be key.
After we needed a get away from the city, we stopped for lunch at the Westin, the most beautiful, tallest building in Dhaka… actually I don’t know if that is true but it’s the best thing I have seen. We had lunch, made a Bengali friend named Shahnaz who likes to draw, and had some fabulous food before exploring the rest of the resort. At the top we discovered the best views of Dhaka, and for the first time I was starting to understand how this city works. Let me remind you… just started to understand. Its chaotic and the people that make up this one of a kind city are what is key to understanding, but at least I could spot the American Embassy, my house, and the main circle where I will spend a lot of my time.

I decided that I am going to start my own garden soon. I stopped at a flower shop and was just mesmerized, and walked through a never-ending maze of plants. Green Dhaka. I can’t wait to start… I need to unpack first though!

I went to bed at 7pm and slept for 13 hours. Finally!

Tea and Bengali Food

This evening the fellow Fulbrighters were all invited over to Reaz’s house for tea. He lives just around the block from us so we stopped by after a crazy shopping experience in the market (we found out later this was a terrible market to go to and no wonder we were harassed- we drove about 20-30 minutes to get out of the car for 5 minutes before Catherine was threatened by a short Bengali man who claimed he would “steal her sexy eyes”). Needless to say, we were thrilled to arrive at Reaz’s where we the elevator opened up to a beautiful flat that took up the entire 4th floor of this apartment building. Before entering the living room/tea room, we were able to take a long look at an ancient piece of one of the most famous mosques in Bangladesh, that has since burned down. This piece survived and has been restored… hundreds and hundreds of years old, and absolutely priceless.
Walking into the living room we noticed that it was actually an art gallery by everyone else’s standards. The walls were covered with hundreds of paintings and statutes, modern, impressionistic, watercolor, acrylic, simple sketches and wall covering radical pieces… I was in awe. Their flat is uniquely designed so that potential buyers can walk around their home and view pieces while still giving the family privacy from the business. The artists were mostly famous Indian and Bengali artists, and I am looking forward to returning in the future to invest in some of the most beautiful and interesting pieces I have ever seen. My favorite piece was in the other part of the house and it covered the entire wall, eight by ten feet of a political protest or rally in Dhaka, the background subtly the flag of Bangladesh- green and red- with images of bodies and chaos everywhere fighting for change and freedom, and the entire painting was done in only 3 colors. It was utterly exhilarating.

So our night of tea turned into a complete homemade Bengali dinner for the 6 of us. We ate with our hands, pulao rice with onions, dal, curries, chicken korma, fried eggplant, vegetables and some other things that I cannot even explain in words but it was delicious. Trust.

After dinner we continued a really weird conversation over chai that we all found out the next day, kept all of us up until 5-6 in the morning.

It was a beautiful day!

First Days in Dhaka

As I left Traverse City cherry capital airport on a beautiful crisp, fall day, it really hadn't hit me that I was really leaving home... for the longest amount of time in my life- 16 months. I feel like I am just going on another short excursion, and I still don't know how to prepare myself for this challenge of what it means to be a Fulbrighter, also known as a Cultural Ambassador. Close to 20 hours later I was finally on the last leg of my trip, sitting next to a nice gentleman from Bangladesh named Rahman. He spent the past 12 years in the US and just recently took an investment banking manager position back in Dhaka. Throughout the 10-hour flight you can imagine that we became very close friends, he offered his home and family up to me anytime I need a good meal away, or just a resource in Dhaka so it was very comforting to know at least one person in the big city!

Rhaman practiced Bengali with me, teaching me the very important basics such as,
"I need to go to the bathroom, its an emergency!" , "Listen!", and "shoe"... Somehow he could just see that I was the kind of girl who would need to know shoe... I actually could have never predicted that it would be one of the first words I would need to know since my shoe broke later that night and we needed to salvage it's life with a glue stick. Weird.

We talked basic politics of Bangladesh, the former Minister of Government of Bangladesh named Mr. Amir Hossain Amu was in the first class cabin of our plane and Raham was so excited to share with my the story of how they were able to meet and talk in the airport. "I watched him since I was very young on the television and it means a lot to me that I am able to finally see him face to face and talk with him. He is my leader, and now that I know him I can go into politics if I want". I thought it was interesting how he stressed the importance of connections. So does that mean that since I know the "guy" who knows the former minister of government of Bangladesh that I can run in the December elections as well? Furthermore, he told he how much he likes Obama, and but no matter what happens, I am lucky to be spending time in a country that has such a good relationship with the United States. He said unlike other countries, Bangladesh is really safe and the people are extremely welcoming... I could already tell!

We flew into the sun-rising skies of Bangladesh, a country about the size of Wisconsin with a population of over 150 million people, where the skies resembled the color of a grapefruit. As I wandered through Dhaka airport, confused by the calmness that overtook that airport in the early hours of the day. I was greeted by a nice young Bengali holding a sign that said "Sara Baumann US Embassy"... it was a relieve to have him grab my bag and whisk me through customs and the baggage claim rather quickly (but it didn't stop by bags from having holes punched in them through the incredible journey they must have taken to reach me again).

The Dhaka airport was easy, and I truly couldn't believe that I was in Bangladesh until I had a glance outside and notice that the bars surrounding the airport were covered with bodies reaching, yelling and waving to the few souls who would decide to fly into Dhaka at such an early hour. That is when I saw... Bangladesh. Glorious!

Reaching my apartment was very much a relief. The wide door on the second flew open quickly where I greeted my roommates David and Supriya, and of course perfect timing because 3 minutes after I walked in the door, the final presidential debate of 2008 was on CNN (which I was SO SURPRISED that we had access to in my apartment! It went in and out a bit fuzzy but we can deal with that!), dazily I made it through with a few chuckles and how "political" and ridiculous these campaigns have become with there severe jabs at one another. I wish my name was "Joe the plumber" because that is who is at the center of attention.

After a nap and procrastination with the unpacking, David took me around Dhaka. We have a driver who will take us anywhere at anytime which is really convenient, his name is Iqbal and I cut him a lot of slack because it takes much patience to be a driver in this city. We went to the American club where I needed to get a workout in and it's quite a breath of fresh air from the bustling streets of Dhaka. They even had Halloween decorations, I had a swimming competition with a little American by named Daniel who thought David was my father... and also thought I was David's mother. Rather odd, but we had a great time hanging out with kids at the pool while the "of age" folks took part in their civic duties of absentee voting. After a long discussion on whether or not the US even counts absentee ballots we left rather depressed, so if anyone has any information that will brighten my day on this agenda please let me know.

I met a wonderful young lady tonight over dinner with fellow Fulbrighters, who all inspire me to think, debate, and wonder about the future of not only our own nation, but our impact on the greater world... there was a girl from TRAVERSE CITY MICHIGAN, who is spending a few months in Dhaka. Its crazy to find someone on my first day in Dhaka Bangladesh who literally lives 5 minutes down the street from me in Northern Michigan- Fort Road for those of you who are familiar with the area... how is that for a small world!

Reaz and I have decided through a vigorous competition that we definitely are the foosball champions in Dhaka. We have quite the winning streak going, and I think that the next 16 months in Dhaka are going to train me well I'm thinking that I will be able to enter a new international competitions in the future. We visited the "Marines House" a few minutes away, where the 6 marines of Bangladesh host the Embassy folks with American music. After tonight, meeting challenging and intelligent (and fun!) people from the embassy, I am thinking about studying for the foreign service exam- Grandpa Gerry thanks for the advice about getting involved with the embassy! Who knows what will happen! I am inspired!

I am still feeling a jet lagged, and a bit overwhelmed because I had a to find my way around my apartment today in the dark (the electricity went out which is does regularly about 2-3 times a day). I don't know were any of my things are because I'm still living out of a suitcase because I'm too excited to see Dhaka than to unpack!

The view from my apartment is gorgeous. All 3 bedrooms have balconies, including the living room, and I oversee the Egyptian Embassy, which holds a gorgeous green garden in the back. I wake up in the morning to sunshine and a green garden, which makes me forget that I am in one of the densest populated cities in the world (many statistics would say that is truly is the most densely populated country in the world if you do not count Singapore...).

I had a chance to wander the street of Binani, which is one of the nicer neighborhoods near where I live, which is surprisingly clean and lots of good shopping. Marci, Lisa and I went shopping for Salwar Kamis, the traditional dress in Bangladesh and most of India, and we even stumbled upon a gelateria... so now I know that I have a place to escape when I am missing Italia and wish to practice my Italian... Nocciola!

Since we are having a bunch of people over tonight, David and I went shopping at the U.S. commissary, which was quite an ordeal to enter since it is on US embassy grounds. This place does have almost everything, form peanut butter, Pringles, Starbucks coffee to Orvieto Classico wine from Italy (MY FAV!). I don't think I am going to have a problem surviving. I have never been so happy to enter a grocery store where I could read the labels and find every kind of product that is familiar to me. O and cereal. Well, the cereal collection in this place is far better than most of your village grocers... So beware. They even carry craklin' oat bran. Heavenly.

It is a very interesting and intellectually stimulating crowd here. A few medical students were over, a Bengali friend, fellow Fulbrighters, past Fulbrighters and other researchers who are all involved in very noble work... from infectious disease to sociology to economics and politics... everyone here truly inspires me and I know that it will be a very vigorous working environment and I feel right at home already, in a very humbling way.

I must sleep considering I have an energetic workout schedule planned for the morning. Please keep in touch, see my contact info below☺

Bengali cell phone number +8801814651546
Skype Number: 231-432-8284
Email: baumsa@gmail.com- you likely already knew this