Second-to-last week in Bangladesh

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. 

Well, postcards are sent… and do I have a story for you

Yesterday I had an adventure, and it’s too good of a story to not blog about. So here goes.

After class, Audrey and I went to the National Post Office.  We wanted to mail postcards and make sure they were actually sent, and the best way to ensure that is to send them from the main branch. This is like going to the central post office in Washington DC to mail a letter. So after class we walked to Bashundhara gate and hired a CNG. After about two minutes in the CNG, it started to pour down rain. I mean a real monsoon. The streets started to flood. We made it about to Rampura when the CNG got a flat tire. The driver stopped and got out to change it in a puddle in the monsoon. We, thinking that the post office closed at 5, decided to get another CNG. We stepped out into the monsoon and not another empty CNG was to be found. We got a rickshaw to take us where we could find another CNG, and hired another one. Even though we explained that we were in a hurry, this second CNG decided to stop for gas. So we got out and found a third one, which finally got us to the National Post Office at 4:34.

Inside the post office, we found out that we could have bought stamps as late as 8 PM. Oh well. We stood there soaking wet attaching stamps to each postcard. Between me, Audrey, and several other people who had given us postcards to mail, we sent 40 postcards. Each postcard to the US was 39 taka; to Europe postage was 31 taka. Which meant that each US postcard had four stamps on it: 15, 15, 5, and 4. Basically they look like wizard letters from Harry Potter. (And I apologize in advance for putting the stamps on top of the messages!) The postal service workers were very excited that we were there. There was one man who stamped our completed postcards (i.e. to indicate that they have been processed) as we stood there, then placed them into a big jute bag that, he assured us, will go straight to the airplane. We have been assured that these postcards will, at the very least, leave the country.

After finishing at the post office, I wanted to take a bus to my language partner’s house. After wading through knee deep water to get to the bus stand (where the ticket seller was sitting in water, with his little wooden desk about four inches above water level), I got on a bus that took me to Dhanmondi, from which I took another bus to Farmgate, and then walked to her house.

I was also wearing a new outfit, so I turned completely green from the dye. Seriously. I looked like Spock. 

Boro Bhromon Day 4: Puthia

Day four was our return day. We packed the cars and drove out of Rajshahi. Then, before I expected to stop, we turned a corner in a village and were greeted by the sight of a large temple on the other side of a lake. This was Puthia, a place with a large collection of temples and ruins dating to the British period. It was the seat of a large zamindar estate. We first visited the Shiva temple, the one I first saw. Our tour guide was a devoted Hindu from the area and an employee of the Bangladeshi government’s Department of Archaeology. We were able to go inside the temple; it was my first time actually stepping into a Hindu temple. Also in the same area, the guide showed us: a Jagannath temple that is no longer active because the Pakistani army destroyed the main image in 1971; a Gobinda temple with terracotta work depicting the romance between Radha and Krishna; the ruins of a Laxshmi temple behind the Gobinda temple; the Zamindar’s Rajbari, which is currently being restored and converted into a museum; the prison and tax collection center from the British period; the guard houses from the British period; and the zamindar’s swimming pool.

Leaving Puthia, we visited another rajbari that served as the summer palace for the Puthia zamindars. This one was not as well preserved and was mostly in ruins. We then stopped in Natore to buy mishti, and drove back to Dhaka. I took some amazing pictures this day, so I will let them do the rest of the talking. 

Boro Bhromon Day 3: Rajshahi University and Mahle community

On the third day of the trip, we stayed within the limits of Rajshahi. In the morning, we visited Rajshahi University. I was able to visit the departments of Folklore and Anthropology while I was there. From the Folklore department, I acquired a really good reading list in the form of their syllabus for both the undergraduate and graduate level. I made some good contacts in the anthropology department, and it was fun to talk to a group of anthropologists in Bangla. (This day was also the first day when I began to actually understand everything that was being said.) After visiting these two departments, Munmun took us to the Department of Applied Physics and the department of Communication. All four departments fed us, so over the course of two hours we ate: biscuits, two cups of tea, crackers, shingara, and mishti. After visiting the departments we took a driving tour of the university.

We then drove back into Rajshahi proper, where there was a small research museum run by Rajshahi university. After visiting this museum, we went to lunch at a Bengali Chinese restaurant.

After lunch, we visited the Mahle community, a small adivasi group living in Rajshahi. This group is mostly Catholic, and has an organization devoted to the preservation of their culture and language. We were hosted by this organization. It apparently has classes to teach the children about their culture, including learning traditional song and dance. The children from these classes gave a cultural performance for us, and then taught us a dance. I also taught them a dance that I learned at the Panegyri Greek festival in Cincinnati. After the cultural performance, they fed us – what else? – mango. There were also some speeches about the organization’s work. After the main event, I talked to the head of the cultural organization and found out that linguists created a script for the Mahle language in 2006 as part of an endangered languages project. It is based on the Western alphabet. Several of us were shown into the organization’s offices, and they gave the whole group two books – one a general overview of the community, and the other their collected songs in Mahle and Bengali.

We then went to the silk milling area of the city and went shopping. Rajshahi is known for its silk, as well as its mangos, so we had to buy some while we were there. I bought a silk sari. At one of the silk mills, a few of us ran into a very enthusiastic tour guide who showed us a demonstration area where silk worms were raised. The Bangladeshi variety of silkworm actually creates larger cocoons and better quality silk than the varieties used commonly in other countries. Leaving the silk area, we tried to buy some molasses bars in downtown Rajshahi, but they jacked the prices up by 600% for the bideshis so we ended up not buying any. 

Boro Bhromon Day 2: Silk and Mangos

The second day of our trip to Rajshahi fell on Shab-e-Bharat, which I mentioned in one of my posts last year. We did not observe the holiday, but instead took a long day trip from our base in Rajshahi. Our first stop was in Chapainawabganj, where there are several historic structures. The first we visited was the Shona Mosque, a black stone or terracotta mosque built c. 1500. Surprisingly, the women were allowed inside (I think it isn’t regularly used as a mosque anymore because it is administered by the Archaeology Department), so I was able to see the inside as well as the outside. Beside the mosque and inside the fence was the tomb of a freedom fighter; outside the wall was an older cluster of tombs. Next we went to a nearby archaeological site consisting of a Rajbari, mosque, and tomb. All were from the Mughal period. The Rajbari (= palace, ruler’s house) was the seat of a Mughal governor, who built the house there so he could be close to his spiritual teacher. When his guru died, the governor built a tomb for him in the same complex. He also built the mosque, but I don’t know if that was before or after his teacher’s death. We were given a tour of all the sites. All of the tours on this trip were in Bengali, and, gratifyingly, I was able to understand almost everything that was said.

 After we left the Rajbari, we drove to a village in Bolarhat subdivision, right near the Indian border. In the village, we were hosted by a family, who fed us a meal of ruti and mango for brunch. The mango was so delicious; they fed us several varieties so we could taste the differences between them. The ruti was made with roughly ground flour, which was a nice change from the white bread we usually eat here. Before and after the meal we talked to the family and the rest of the villagers. The woman who was hosting us had just had a baby a week before; the teachers and I spent some time cooing over the newborn.

 Leaving that village, we went to a silk plantation (or whatever you call it). We arrived just as a downpour started, so we waited in a guest house until the rain petered out. We walked past the rows of mulberry bushes and into a building where they raise the silkworms. The man who was giving us a tour picked up a worm and gave it to me! They had two rooms full of racks where different aged insects were fed and cared for. They ranged from the three-inch-long older ones to tiny little ones that had just hatched a week before. In another room the guide showed Audrey and me the mulberry leaves that had been harvested to feed to the worms.

 The next stop was a mango garden. It was harvest time while we were there, so we talked to the workers who were the mangos. The tool used to collect mangos is a long piece of bamboo with a small net on the end; this allows the worker to reach up and pick the fruit without damaging it. One of the workers gave us some unripe mango with salt on it; this combination tasted surprisingly savory. We wandered back farther into the mango garden, looking at the pretty trees. They were surprisingly large; I guess I had been expecting smaller trees like you find in an apple orchard, but mango trees are BIG. In the back of the mango garden, I had a conversation with a cowherd who was moving through with his herd.

 We then went to a mango haat(=village market that happens a few times a week). A large group of bideshis suddenly arriving in a haat in rural Bangladesh is one thing, but an even bigger surprise is when those bideshis all speak Bengali. I wasn’t able to buy any mangos because I was too busy talking about them! Luckily, the program bought some crates of them for us. After the mango haat visit, I thought we would head back to the village where we ate brunch to eat a late lunch. It was about 4 PM. Instead, we ended up on the bank of a river, boarded a ship, and went for a boat ride up the river. The river’s name is the Mahananda River, and at this point it forms the border with India. Our boat was flying the Bangladeshi flag, but we saw several Indian fishing boats as well. We could see the watchtowers on the Indian side from the boat.

 Finally, we returned to the village and were fed a delicious dinner (complete, of course, with mango) by the same family. Afterward, we talked to the villagers, and one woman decided to show me the village. But first I had to wear my orna the right way! Once that was straightened out, she took me to her grandparents’ house, and then showed me her house and introduced me to her husband, and finally took me to see the small river that ran by the village. Throughout all of this, we were surrounded by a crowd of women and children who were eager to show me as much as they could of the village and continually chattered away. After all of this, we finally returned to the vans and drove the three hours back to Rajshahi. One good thing about Rajshahi division is that there is less traffic and the roads are better maintained, so the drive is actually relatively smooth and comfortable for Bangladeshi roads.

Boro Bhromon Day 1: Tangail, Sirajganj

Thursday was the first day of our long trip to Rajshahi and Western Bangladesh. We started late and got caught in Dhaka traffic on the way out of the city, so we weren’t able to make it to all the places on our schedule. We spent most of the day in the car. One exciting thing was that we passed over the Jamuna Bridge, the longest bridge in Bangladesh crossing a river that is very large by American standards, but only somewhat large by Bangladeshi ones. Our first stop was at UBINIG in Tangail district. UBINIG is an NGO that promotes the organic cultivation of local varieties of crops (thereby trying to avert the switch to single-variety cultivation like we have in the US). To do so, they have seed banks in which they store the seeds each year and then redistribute them to area farmers for planting. UBINIG also promotes traditional methods of food processing, and has examples set up to demonstrate them. We saw mustard oil produced (by a cow walking in a circle attached to a grinding device), and rice flour pounded by a simple lever on which two people stood. In one building there were three women processing grains – one grinding dal with a stone wheel, and two making varieties of puffed rice over an open flame. They used broom-like whisks to stir the rice and whisk it out of the pot when done. After we finished seeing all the demonstrations and discussing everything with the head of the NGO, she led us through the village to their guest house. It was a lovely location; I would love to spend more time there. At the guest house, they fed us food that was grown organically in their gardens. It was delicious. There was ruti made with the rice flour we had watched being made, some delicious potato dish, pumpkin, and, to finish it off, Tangail’s special mishti, chumchum. And, of course, tea with real milk. This was supposed to be our breakfast, had we left at the planned time. After the meal, we said goodbye to the head of the NGO and walked next door to see some weavers. Tangail is known for its cotton saris. We talked to some of the weavers and watched them work, then got back in the cars and left. The next place we stopped was also a weaving area, where they are known for making good quality gamchas (=towel, many men wear them around their neck or waist). While the other were haggling over prices, Audrey and I were led away by an elderly man who showed us his gamcha workshop and house. We met his family, including a very old woman who I believe was his mother. After having a conversation with this group, we got back in the vans and drove to Rajshahi, arriving there after dark. For all three nights, we stayed in a Parjatan Corporation hotel, run by the Bangladeshi government’s tourism board. The facilities were similar to a standard American motel that was built in the 1980s.

Village visit, Jaago Foundation

This weekend was a busy one, and they will only get busier during the rest of the summer. On Thursday, after having class and a lecture in the morning we all went to the American Center to talk to Bangladeshi students who are interested in pursuing degrees at American universities. I met a Bangladeshi archeology student! After the meeting, I took the bus to my LP’s house. The bus ride was exciting, because I rode in a double decker bus that let me out in a different location than I was used to. The rickshaws wouldn’t take me to her house, and I became very confused. I put Afrida on the phone with a rickshawallah and a fruit seller, to figure out what was going on. They figured it out, and I waited by the fruit seller’s stall until her dad came to get me. At least I got a free mango out of it! On Friday I visited my LP’s village. We started out very early, at 7:30, and drove North out of the city. On the way, we stopped in one place to get katal (apparently Mymensingh is known for its quality katal), and another place to look at jewelry. I love the Bangladeshi countryside, and this time we drove through the really rural areas. I was happy that I was not the one driving. Near to my LP’s nana (=maternal grandfather)’s house there were preparations for a village fair. We walked to the homestead and visited with her nanu (=maternal grandmother) and other family members. I was surprised that I was able to understand Afrida’s nanu, but her Bangla was relatively clear. She has a hearing problem, so I’m not sure she understood me as well as I understood her. I noticed that the buildings were made of mud bricks, which is perfect insulation for the climate, and that their houses are very clean and well-kept. A lot nicer than Dhaka. After a little while visiting, we changed into nicer clothes to attend a wedding. I had prepared for a city wedding rather than a country wedding, so I wasn’t as comfortable as I would otherwise have been. I wore my new Benaroshi sari. The wedding itself was huge- they were apparently going to feed three thousand people. There were a few tents where everyone ate in shifts; inside the buildings there were more people sitting around and talking. The bride was Afrida’s mom’s niece. We left and went back to the village, where I changed back into salwar kameez. Afrida took me to meet all of her relatives who had houses nearby. I talked with her family members, most of whom spoke another dialect. After listening to it for a few hours, I finally started to figure it out (my language accomplishment for the day). It was dark when we started back, and one of her cousins caught a firefly for me. The fireflies here are tiny compared to the ones in the states; this one was about half an inch long. On Saturday our field trip was to the Jaago Foundation (http://www.jaago.com.bd/), the first voluntary organization in Bangladesh. The organization runs a free English-medium, international standard school for street kids from the Dhaka slums. We had a tour of the facility; besides the school, Jaago has two workshops (to provide training and employment for adults from the community), a clinic that provides healthcare to the kids for free and to the community for a reduced price, and a “hole in the wall” project that gives street kids from the community the opportunity to access the internet and games. It’s a new organization, but it seems to do really good work. Afterward, we went to lunch at a Bengali Chinese restaurant in Dhanmondi. The food was slightly different from American Chinese food. From there, Audrey and I walked to Dhaka University. It was about a half hour walk at a leisurely pace. As we passed Newmarket, we stopped at lot of pottery stalls to look at the “clay stuff” as it’s called in Bangla. At Dhaka University, we met Sarmad, one of our teachers from last year. He had a Fulbright to teach Bangla in Austin during the last year. Sarmad took us to his house, where we met his family. He has a very large house in Old Dhaka, with a pond, crops, and a large roof veranda. His mom is a really good cook, too. We hung out with them all evening. On Sunday, we had a conversation class in which we just had a conversation with two English-medium students. It was wonderful. After class, I went to the tailor and spoke Bangla with him for a solid twenty minutes, expressing everything I wanted to say. Very good Bangla day. On Thursday, I leave for my extended trip out of Dhaka. We are going to Rajshahi, in the western part of Bangladesh on the Indian border. Expect a long blog post when I get back.