Last Thursday, I went
to Newmarket by myself. I think this was the first time I went alone, but I was
definitely ready to do it. My Bangla is at the point where I can understand
pretty much everything that people are saying to me. Meaning, I can understand
the individual words as if they were in English (at least in common speech). The
traffic was terrible going to Newmarket on the Dip Bangla bus, so I decided to
get off when we got to Dhanmondi. This was a great decision, because I got down
on Elephant Road, where a lot of other types of stores are. As I was walking
down the street, I saw a rug in one of the stores: a handmade wool tapestry
featuring a map of Bangladesh. As I was talking to the store keeper, I found
out that the tapestries are made in a workshop somewhere in Dhaka (he said the
name, but I forgot it). I then walked to Newmarket, which turned out to be
really close by – down an alley, turn right, and it’s straight ahead. Dhaka is
a surprisingly small city, but you don’t realize it because of all the traffic.
I shopped at Newmarket for a few hours, just wandering around and finding
interesting things to buy. This included a bamboo fan like the ones they use in
the village, which I saw a guy hawking on the street. After I got tired of
shopping, I took a bus to my Language Partner’s house, where I spent the night.
After leaving her
house after lunch the next day, I went home planning to just stay in and do
homework. However, Andrew invited me to come to Dipa’s house with him. Dipa is
the woman we interviewed last week, who is very poor and lives in a one-room
house in a slum. At her house, we were unexpectedly met with a small prayer
service. I was happy because I could actually understand everything. Afterward
I talked to Dipa for a little bit, and she invited me to go to mass with her on
Sunday (she is Catholic).
Saturday morning I met
up with a professor (Apollo bhai) who teaches at the Anthropology department at
Jahangirnagar University in Savar. He took me to see the department, where I
talked to the students and several of the professors. I was impressed that they
have been able to keep up with current theory even while having difficulty getting
newly published resources from the US and England. Apollo bhai and I had a good
conversation about the problems that the anthropology department and teachers
at public universities face in Bangladesh. After his class, one of the students
gave me a tour of the university, which is very large and has a lot of green
space. After the university visit, I went to Moumita’s house for the first
iftar of this year’s Ramadan, and then spent the night.
On Sunday I went to
mass with Dipa after class. I wore a sari all day, and walked to her house as
soon as class let out. We got to the church about half an hour early, and sat
on the floor in the front. I was surprised by how little of the mass I
understood – prayers are said in the same sort of continuous chanting as in
English, so I couldn’t catch very much of it. After mass, Dipa introduced me to
the priest and a nun, who invited me to have tea with them. The nun is Italian
and doesn’t speak much English, so we communicated in Bangla. Her accent
sounded really strange at first. Also invited to tea were an Irish man and his
Bangladeshi wife, who were in town for a few weeks. I talked to them, and they
invited me to their house to have some tea after mass. It was really nice to
talk to a Catholic Bangladeshi family, simply because I hadn’t really had the
chance to do so before.
On Monday, we had a
field trip instead of class after lunch. We met Qumrul in front of Apollo
Hospital in Bashundhara, and the three of us, plus another student, plus
Qumrul, all squeezed into a taxi to make the trip to Dhanmondi. It was a long
two hours in the car, with me essentially sitting on Audrey’s lap. Our first
stop was Bangabondhu’s house, where Sheikh Mujibur Rahman lived and where his
entire family was assassinated in 1975. In the house, they have the bedroom
where their bodies were found preserved behind glass. Behind the house is a
really well made museum that is still being built, dedicated to the life of
Sheikh Rahman and his contributions to Bangladesh’s independence. After leaving
Bangabondhu’s house, we visited an Eid field (where prayers are said only on
Eid) that dates to the Mughal period. It’s now used as a cricket field when
it’s not Eid. We then walked to an art gallery where a photo exhibition
displayed the skill of a photographer who just died in a road accident last
year. After that, we walked to Dhanmondi lake, where we sat and talked for a
while. Finally, we went to Qumrul’s in-laws’ house for iftar, and met his wife
and their whole family. Afterward Audrey and I took a bus back to Bashundhara,
which only took about 15-20 minutes (as I said, the city is actually really
tiny; if there’s no traffic it’s really easy to get places).
Tuesday in
conversation class, we interviewed a hijra, or transgender person. It was
probably the most interesting interview we’ve done all summer. She was very
lucky, because her family is accepting of her and she still lives at home.
After class, I went to my Language Partner’s house for iftar. After iftar, I
met other students from our group at a radio station, where we gave an
interview that will be on Bangladeshi national radio at some point.
On Wednesday, we had a
second field trip of the week, this time with Farzana. We took a CNG and met
her in Dhanmondi, where we first went shopping at an audio video store, and
then at Joyita, a store that is completely run, owned, and operated by women.
It takes up two floors of a shopping mall, and is filled with small stands,
each run by a woman where she sells handicrafts. Most come from the
shopkeeper’s village. I bought a lot of things there, some gifts and several
things for myself, including a kameez made out of jute. Afterward we went to a
mandir, where we met the head priest and talked to him about religious issues. As
we were leaving, they offered me some of the fruit from the offering. I still
feel conflicted about it, but I declined because I didn’t want to become sick.
Maybe I should have eaten it. Anyway, our next stop was iftar at Farzana’s
aunt’s house, where we met the family. Her uncle was a freedom fighter, but has
been sick so we weren’t able to talk to him very much. Finally, we went to
visit Farzana’s friend, who talked to us about some of the problems in Dhaka
city. Audrey and I went to the bus stop, where the ticket seller told us we
would not be able to catch a bus because they had stopped for the night.
Another student who was going to Bashundhara told us to just wait a bit,
because the bus would actually just be late. We were able to get on, and made
it back to Bashundhara in record time.
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