Rajshahi Continues: Another Friend’s village, Tea with Mama, and a Pre-Wedding Party

Today is my grandfather’s birthday. Today my thoughts were filled with him.  I miss him a lot, he was really special.

It has been a quiet day to myself so far. I’ve agreed to meet 3 different friends at some point in the day, one at 2, one at 5, one at 730, and one at 930, lol… jeez, talk about a busy social calendar - this is SO unlike me! This morning I slept in until 8 and then uploaded photos to my zip drive so I could make CDs for the friends who had gone on trips with me. I went for a late breakfast at 930 in my favourite restaurant. It’s been awhile since I’ve been there alone, so the restaurant staff took advantage of the time to gather round and watch me eat and push one another for the job of refilling my water or bringing extra food to my table.

I tried the market a couple times to get the photo CDs made, but the power outages were quite bad today so I kept missing my chance! I did finally drop them off while the power was on and half-way through the power went out. You might think that people who depend on computers as part of their job would have some sort of battery backup to at least get them through saving or finishing the one thing they were working on, but I have only seen one person set up this way so far.

So after the market I met my friend Limon for lunch. We went to Hilsha Fish, a restaurant near the Shai Bazaar and had fish, green mango, daal and rice, it was very nice. When we finished lunch we went on our way to visit his family. While enroute I got a call from Shahed that his son was very sick and he had been given emergency leave to go home for a week, he asked me to meet him at the station. Limon was good enough not to mind and we redirected our rickshaw wallah back the way we came to meet at the station.

Shahed arrived and said he was going to try and get a ticket for later that evening after he went back and got his bags. Turned out that there was a train leaving shortly and he decided to take it because he would get home six hours sooner. I waited while he bought a ticket and visited for the half hour until the train arrived. His roommate also came, he is a good friend, and he visited with Limon while I visited with Limon. This is probably the last time I am going to see him, so I was sad to leave and couldn’t help the tears as he boarded and the train left the station… man, goodbyes are hard, WHY don‘t they get any easier?

We stood on the platform and I waved for as long as I could still see Shahed with his whole upper body sticking out the train window waving and disappearing into the distance. Limon did a good job of trying to cheer me up and we continued on our way again to meet his family. I pushed my head “back in the game” and let go of my sadness and chatted with Limon in the rickshaw.

“We are not a rich family…” was how he began as we pulled into his neighbourhood, and I shushed him and told him I didn’t care about how rich his family might be, that I was just happy to be visiting. First I met his mom, sister, and father. They served me fruit and fishcakes and tea and we sat and visited. His sister spoke English well so the three of us chatted while his mom looked around and tried to get me to eat for 3. As we sat neighbours kept poking their head in, many of them (let’s say about 15?) jammed into the doorway to watch us, Limon had a ball the whole time and kept saying “you are very interesting for them!” After we took a few pictures we continued on, as he has 5 uncles and we were promised to visit each house in turn, so away we went!

One house to the next, each family feeding and watering me, they were all very kind and very excited and friendly. A few times they asked questions, mostly they commented on how white I am (I *SWEAR* I have been trying to get a tan!) and how friendly I was.

When we visited with one of his cousins, a very lovely girl with good English skills, said gave me a glass of ice cold 7-Up in a pretty mug. When I commented on the pretty blue and silver design on the mug she said “it is my most favourite mug, so I wanted you to use it when you came to visit.” Such a sweet thing to do, the gesture wasn’t lost on me.

Onto the next house and despite being full from lunch and snacks at the past 3 houses plates of cookies and chips and other dried snacks and more 7-Up came out. The power had gone out while we were in the second house and the girls each took turns fanning me with a bamboo fan. We took pictures as we went along It was her favourite mug, to me “You know Shauna, you look just like a Barbie!” I laughed, a lot, and shook my head as I said thank you, swallowing my comments of argument because it would have been futile to try. “No, really! Just like a Barbie, it’s really true!” She walked arm in arm with me the rest of the way. After the 5^th house the aunty invited me to stay for dinner. I thanked her very much and told her that I already had plans with a friend for dinner, so we went on our way.

Limon and I walked out to the main road stopping here and there on the way to say hello to different people. In the market I tried a new snack called Putchka, little shells filled with lentils and egg and onions and other stuff I can’t even tell you without google (it has been quite the exercise, getting used to going without internet for so long and now I actually get irritated when I'm on it so I have really been avoiding it), it was very good!

Rana arrived on his bike to pick me up and we went to the tea stall hangout to see his friends and have some tea. The man that runs the stall is very fond of the kids that hang out there and they all call him uncle. He is always very nice to me and he makes the best milk tea in the city in this bideshi‘s opinion, I was happy to go there for tea!! “Mama (uncle) has been missing you too, so he will be happy to see you!”

Mama actually did get a big smile (which he quickly hid right away) when we pulled up, it was totally cute. We had a cup of tea and chatted awhile. I asked Rana to tell Mama that I thought he made the best milk tea in the city, and I watched him blush and wave off the compliment. Rana was dressed in the white Punjabi I remembered him wearing for a friend’s wedding, so I asked him about it. “Oh, it’s because tonight is my friend’s wedding party - you will enjoy the party too.” Oh! I’m going to a wedding party!! I looked down at my clothes and laughed once more quietly to myself… I guess there’s no way I really would have dressed any differently had I known in advance, but jeez, I would have at least combed my hair!! : ) Oh well, nobody will care!

We walked from the tea stall to his friend Shohel’s house. The family and a few of his friend’s were gathered in his family house, and it was a sort of bachelor party (though NOTHING like what those words conjure for those of us in the wild wild west!). He was sitting on a table surrounded in food, and each new person that entered took a turn to go up and say hello and feed him something from the trays - I got to do it too!! I felt a little silly offering the grown man food but it was actually really nice. It is offered as a way of showing your support and love for him in his big step of getting married, and I thought it was very nice, and it was quite an intimate moment to share with a stranger really. The family took many pictures and I wished him well with his wedding (which was happening the next day) and married life.

We ate biryani (which usually I don’t eat because it turns my stomach inside out, but homemade food has been safe in most cases (when it doesn’t involve beef) so far) and fried chicken and chatted, it was very nice. The women were all dressed in red and orange saris with gerbera daisies in their hair, they looked so beautiful and I wish I had taken more photos!

For the next couple of hours I visited with his family and then went up to the roof to hang out with the young folk. Everyone here gauges my age around 25, so I fit in well with all the young people. They were decorating the bridal suite with styrofoam wrapped in pink tulle, trying to make it nice for the newly married couple the following night - quite a feat for a group of boys!! We said our goodbyes and I thanked them for welcoming me; Shohel’s eldest sister invited me to come the next day for the wedding as well and of course I was ticked pink. Rana said he would bring me, and with that we headed back to the tea stall.

Around 1030 I was ready to go and Rana dropped me off at my hotel. It was a great day, very fun, but exhausting to be friendly and social with so many strangers so I was very tired. I wanted to take a few minutes to write but I was done-for so I just washed up and crawled into bed… that’s it for another day! Tomorrow… Bengali New Year and a wedding!!

Rajshahi - Take Two!

Since I last wrote (and I can’t remember when I was last online!) I have visited Dinajpur, Rangpur, Bogra, Bagha, and come back to Rajshahi. The Bengali New Year is on Thursday, so after many repeated requests I have agreed to stay in town, and I have cancelled my plan to visit Dhaka again before it’s closer to my time to leave.

Yesterday I spent half the day with my friend Imran. We went for breakfast (Arif came along as well - they both work in the hotel I stay at), visited Arif’s family village, visited Imran’s father’s restaurant stall (and had some yummy snacks!) and then went to the nearby technical high school where we met his friend Rocky. Rocky is the local Taekwondo champion, he was just in Korea competing for something and at the end of it after he managed to win “something” he also had injured his arm, so he’s in a sling in the Bangladesh heat - yuck!

The three of us (Arif had to go back to work for something) went to the amusement park so they could take a billion pictures with and of me (you’ll be punished with that through Flickr later if you chooose!). From there Rocky left us and I briefly saw my little brother Shahed (he was working and he drove the army truck over so his friend could meet me). Imran and I went from there to his home and I spent the rest of the afternoon with his family. It was such a nice day.

At his family’s house I visited with his mom and sisters and the neighbourhood kids pretty much just taking pictures and smiling and laughing together, as nobody but Imran spoke much English, but I was perfectly happy. The odd neighbour dropped by here and there and introduced themselves, and then around 2 we had lunch… fish, hardboiled eggs in curry, some fried veggie snacks, “salad” (salad here has no lettuce, ever… this one was thinly cut tomatoes in a light dressing it was very nice!), and of course a quadruple serving of rice. I ate way too much because they insisted on refilling my plate and poking me into eating, it was very good. Through pretty much the whole meal Imran’s sister Jasmine fanned me with a big bamboo fan… the electricity was down in the village to since the overhead fan wasn’t working she took it upon herself to become the fan, lol…

I couldn’t get comfortable with it at first and kept telling her it was okay, just to sit and visit with us (only Imran and I were eating together), but she happily sat there and fanned away while she visited and repeatedly dropped more food into my dish.

After lunch we sat outside in the yard in the shade of a giant old mango tree and I played with the kids making videos and taking pictures while we all got a little dozy. At 230 we left to go back to the hotel; Imran had to work and I needed a break from all the people!

I had a nap in my hotel room for a couple of hours (almost unheard of from me to sleep during the day) and woke feeling a little groggy and a bit nauseous. I had planned to meet my friend Waresh in the afternoon so I texted him to tell him I was free if he wanted to get together. We met up at the nearby new market and I found my way to a shop selling cold bottles of pepsi - pepsi, I have decided, is the cure for most things that ail my stomach. I drank the coldest pepsi I’ve had since coming to Bangladesh and then we headed off by Rickshaw to find coconuts… Waresh had the idea that I was probably overheated from being outside in the afternoon sun too much, and the common cure for that here is coconut water - people believe it cools the body when you’ve had too much sun, so off we went!

We went from one market to the next until we came across a vendor, and we hopped down from the rickshaw to each get one. Coconut in hand we jumped back into the rickshaw and headed for the riverside. The sun was starting to set and it is well known in these parts that I’m a sunset fan so Waresh wanted to take me down to the spot by the river where it’s best to watch the sun go down. We got there a little too late (our rickshaw wallah kinda took a few wrong turns) and I watched the sunset from the rickshaw (just as happily, I might add, lol), while Waresh fretted - he is a fretter, he couldn’t help it.

We spent about an hour by the river… we walked across the famous Ganges in the place where the water has gotten so low that you can make it all the way from one side to the other and I took some pictures in the dimming light. When it was becoming more dark than light I told Waresh I wanted to be back on the side with all the people and the lights, so we made our way back. We sat and chatted in nearby chairs that are put out just for people who come down to watch the sun and had some snack made with chickpeas and fresh vegetables (I’ve forgotten the name) and it was quite lovely.

In the dim light of the moon I watched as a farmer moved his water buffalo across the river bed, it was so cool watching their dark shapes shifting through the dark beneath me. About 10 minutes later after they were long out of my sight a man came up and hunkered down in the chair next to me, and he happened to be that same farmer, his name is Jan Mohammed. Jan chatted with us awhile (with Waresh translating all the while) and said to him, “you listen to everything she says and use her wisdom in your life; she has had a chance to live a much different life than we can live, and God has given you the gift of time to learn from her, so do not waste it.”

I didn’t really say much to that, other than to smile and nod my head in Jan’s direction. God gives us all time to learn from others around us if we take the opportunity to do so. Though I didn’t say as much to them at the time, every day in Bangladesh I have learned something new about myself or the world that I didn’t know before through interacting with a new stranger or a friend, and ever night I go to bed grateful for every second I’ve had in the day that has passed.

After the river we came back to the area around the hotel for a cup of tea before I bid Waresh goodnight and headed for my room. By that time it was about 1030 and I was long since ready for sleep after a great day. I really love visiting Rajshahi!

Bustling, Busy Bogra

I fell asleep about ten minutes after the bus left. Despite the volume of all the honking and the lurching and bumping that happens along the way while you ride the Bangladesh bus system I have no trouble sleeping during the ride; I’m quite sure now that I can sleep near anywhere! So as I was saying, I fell asleep on the bus. I wasn’t worried about time because it was at least a two hour ride and I didn’t think I would sleep too deeply. The next thing I knew the bus supervisor was tapping me saying “Madam, please come” - we had arrived in Bogra: SHORTEST bus ride EVER!!!

The bus supervisor lugged my bag up the aisle and helped me hop off as I was still rubbing the sleep outta my eyes I was still a bit groggy from my nap as I waved goodbye. I found a covered tea stall to hide in (my new preference when arriving in a new spot!) and collect myself. I had my tea and decided on a hotel in the guidebook, and then asked the young man in the tea stall to help me get a rickshaw to the Akboria Hotel, which is apparently quite well known in Bogra, and I had no trouble.

It still amazes me how friendly, helpful, and almost protective people are here when I ask for help.  When the kid (he was like, I don't know, 17?) hunted me down a rickshaw and I asked him how much he told me (10 Taka, it's almost always 10 Taka) and then he had a fairly loud conversation with the driver that included finger wagging and a hand on the hip about not ripping me off and overcharging me.  My Bangla is getting better!!

Bogra was bustling and full of life in the centre of town, which centred around a railway line. The area of the Akboria hotel was down a narrow hallway between buildings that I wouldn’t have found without the help of some locals and a nearby security guard. I was doubtful that I was going to stay there for the first couple of moments, but once I saw the rooms I decided it was a fine place to stay and I booked myself a room.

I didn’t know anyone in Bogra so I just set down my bags, grabbed my book and wandered around.
I walked up the street from my hotel thinking I might come across something to see and found a small river.

From there I hopped a rickshaw to the Nawab Bari, or palace. Originally the building was an indigo plantation warehouse, but a nawab family bought it as their country home. It is surrounded by a collection of painted animals and people and a small children’s amusement park. I wandered inside the building and looked at their small dusty collection and their mannequins and room settings, and even took a few photos when the young guides suggested it.

If I understand it correctly, one of the most influential nawabs that lived in this spot was Muhammed Ali Bogra. He had a really colourful history with many interesting jobs (like High Commissioner to Canada, (isn't that a lofty title?!)  Ambassador of Pakistan and Ambassador to Burma, Foreign Minister, and the 3^rd Prime Minister of what was then Pakistan), and I read a lot about him at the museum.

After that I wandered the streets awhile with no particular plan or places to visit. I walked around for a couple of hours before the sun started to set and I headed back to my hotel and dinner at the attached and very famous restaurant. They were very good to me there, very helpful even though the restaurant was incredibly busy.

Overall it was a pretty uneventful day but I enjoyed it nonetheless. I wrote awhile, read my book in my room, watched Prince of Persia and then went to sleep. In the morning I planned to visit a nearby citadel and old temple/mosque site before going on to Rajshahi again, but that was it for one day!

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Morning came and I lazed about in my hotel room with my stomach doing funny things, grumbling and gurgling.  I was feeling quite tired and even a little listless, and not really ready to get on another bus.  I waffled back and forth in my dirty room about whether to go out and try to find the citadel.  It was to involve another LOCAL BUS ride, god in heaven help me, and I just didn't know if I could do it this particular morning.

I went and had breakfast, the restaurant staff finding me special more "private" seating on the top floor away from all the other gawking diners.  I had something to eat (my normal porata and dim and daal) and they enjoyed a private gawking session, all standing around watching me eat while I alternately giggled and shook my head.

I grabbed a cup of tea on my way out and found some laundry soap, I needed to wash clothes at my next stop.  Handwashing is easy enough, and I have so few clothes with me that it's necessary.  The heat makes it super easy to get everything washed and dried from bedtime to early morning - much more than I can say for Korea!!

Around 9 I finally decided that I couldn't stay in the disgusting room and I didn't want to catch the local bus to the citadel, so I wandered down to the front desk to ask them the best way to get to Mahastangar.  Lo and behold they told me it was a short 20Tk CNG ride, yippee!!

I got myself a rickshaw to the CNG stand, found myself a seat in a nearly-ready-to-go CNG (they only leave where there are 6 willing passengers headed in the same direction) and we were off.  I met a dentist along the way, one of the other passengers, and 20 minutes later after chatting most of the way he took it upon himself to get me to Mahastan Citadel and the temple next door, which involved catching another rickshaw once the CNG stopped at the local stand.

The museum was closed for the day, but I wandered the old temple site with the nice dentist and took some pictures of the beautiful views of the valley below.  Since the museum was closed (I actually get really bored by museums, so I was a little grateful!) I said goodbye to the dentist (he had to get to work) and walked the perimeter of the citadel on my own.

I wandered here and wandered there, and I marvelled at the way the locals had used the lands to its full agricultural potential despite the fact that it was an important site - everything in Bangladesh is old; I guess you can't really just stop using the space because there's something ancient and cool-looking on it!

As I wandered through the fields a few young people wandered behind me, shadowing my steps, and I walked into the centre of the walls rather than along the edge with the other tourists.  There was a group of women and a few children who were farming part of the land, and when I smiled a hello at them one of the women sat down and patted the ground beside her, inviting me to take a seat.  Of course not wanting to be impolite I padded over and plunked myself down beside her while they all gathered round and tried to decide what to make of me.

The friendly woman examined my clothing and gestured between us at the similiarities first and then the many differences.  She literally scratched her head a few times while she pondered, and the she took off my scarf and rearranged it before putting it back on me again - I'm not really sure what that part was about!  :)

After about 5 minutes (and more people starting to appear I'd had enough and wanted to resume my peaceful walk.  Interspersed with giggling school girls, school boys with puffed out chests, sunglasses, and spiky hair, and the odd canoodling couple, I had the peace and quiet I'd been looking for for most of the rest of my walk.

The sun was out by this time, quite hot, and I was thinking I should probably be back to check out of my hotel room around noon.  I know there was another old site about 10 minutes up the road by rickshaw but I was feeling a little dragged out, and really just wanted to go somewhere with a cleaner hotel with less noise that was more relaxing, so I headed back to the CNG stand.

I was pleasantly surprised to find that my Bangla managed to get me right back where I started with the dentist, and then before I knew it I was back at my hotel to pick up my bags, bid farewell to the disgusting hotel, and find my way to the bus stand.  Next stop: Rajshahi to see my friends... a break from all the sightseeing.

I'm thinking I need a break!

Rangpur - Where I'm not Sure Why I Went!

So I've skipped the 7th which I also spent in Dinajpur, but hopefully I'll get back to it; I started, I just never finished!

So after the 2 days kickin' around in Dinajpur I got myself on a bus to a little town called Rangpur. I don't remember why I had planned to go there, there weren't really any major sites there, but I was going!

Uttam came in the morning and helped me find the right one (which was very helpful). He sat and fussed with my seat and my bag until the bus was pulling out, and he hopped down and sent me on his way. Of course before I left he called ahead to his best friend Bashir in Rangpur so that I would have someone to take care of me there. I thanked him for all of his help and waved goodbye.

I hopped down from the bus while it slowed (but didn’t stop) and waved goodbye (I always wave goodbye to my buses, they are always greatly entertained by my just being on their bus!) and landed in the middle of a schwack of CNGs and rickshaws, drivers all offering (at the SAME time) to get me where I was going.

Trouble was? I had no idea where I was going!

I hadn’t planned to actually call, but I decided to step back out of the throng and texted Uttam’s friend Bashir to see if he wanted to meet somewhere and snuck into the back of a tea stall. When I plunked my bag down in an empty chair I scared the fifty or so flies to leave their spots on the table I took over and I ordered myself a cup of tea so I could look at my guidebook again. Bashir was still an hour away by bus (coming from his village) so I had to fend for myself until then. He suggested staying where I was until he arrived, but I told him I’d make my way to a hotel and meet him when he arrived.

I chose myself a hotel, finished my tea and went back into the heat of the day and the piles of CNGs and rickshaws. Once pointed in the right direction, taking the scale of the map at face value, I decided to try walking to find the hotel, so I set out on my way leaving the din and clamour of the CNG stand behind.

The spot I landed was right across from the central bus stand in Rangpur, so there was much traffic and commotion. The farther I walked the quieter it got. The buildings I passed were all industry-based kinds of shops and I saw very few houses in the street-side. Metal workers, chicken feed suppliers, mechanics, and a few buildings that COULD have been hotels but had signs only in Bangla so I really had no idea.

I kept checking my map, but I didn’t pass one thing on the way that suggested where I was going was right (or wrong, for that matter) way. I passed a technical college of some sort (closed for the weekend) and a mosque. Then I saw the largest muslim graveyard I’ve ever seen, and I took pause to consider my map again.

I figure by that point I’d walked about 3kms, and in the heat of the Bangadeshi sun carrying my backpack I was beginning to feel lazy. I stepped off the road and pulled out my book again to try and orient myself to the area, but I truly had no idea where I was. One of the guys from a feed shop across the street came over to chat, and he ushered me into his shop to chat awhile before pulling a rickshaw over to take me to the hotel I wanted to check out. About 10 minutes later with the wind blowing and the rickshaw careening around corners on tiny streets I pulled up to the area of the Golden Tower hotel. I paid the man and hopped down with my bag, taking a deep breath.

Looking around (and up up up) at all the signs I didn’t see any signs for the hotel so I walked a bit before I started asking people along the way about which way I should head. Finally when I thought I had walked too far and must have missed it (I pretty much had the map memorized by this time) I turned around to see and English sign tucked into a corner of a building that wasn’t visible from the other direction - angels on my shoulder again!

The lift was out because of load shedding (and truthfully, I *NEVER* take elevators here because if the power chose that moment to go out I’d be STUCK in there!) so though the guard tried to get the doors for me I bowed out and walked up the stairs.

I climbed up the 2 floors to the office and asked to see a room. The hotel was under construction so the first room he showed me I declined because they were surrounded by too many workers. I had it in my mind that it wouldn’t be particularly safe for me to stay somewhere like that, and though I was about to go try another hotel they showed me a room on the 5^th floor that was passable. I had to take a double because there were no singles but I didn’t really care, it was only one night.

Truly, it was actually the dirtiest room I’ve been in since coming to Bangladesh. One night, that is all.
Bashir called as I finished washing my face and we arranged to meet after 15 minutes. He came with his friend Mahmud and we went off to see the sights. Well, first we went to breakfast! Tiny little diner in the style that I’ve become quite accustomed to eating in, it didn’t earn any praise in my book but it did manage to fill my belly. They boys didn’t eat, they just had mango juice while I munched on naan and some incredibly watery and tasteless daal before going on our way.

We visited a few places in fairly quick succession in Rangpur. First we went to a tiny local Kalli temple that was right around the corner from my hotel. As we were looking around a group of women came with a baby for a 100-day blessing. Because Bashiris Muslim he really couldn’t tell me much about the ceremony so we just watched for a bit and continued on our way. There was a group of musicians playing music as well, so I took some video and a few pictures before we left.

From there Bashirand I hopped in a rickshaw and Mahmud went to work. Bashirwas staying in Rangpur but his family’s village was about 2 hours north by bus, he had just arrived in town when he called me. Bashir has an English master’s degree and he was about 75% fluent so he was easy to talk with. He was in the process of applying for a job teaching in the college close to his home village and I have my fingers crossed for him.

Bashir has a complicated family life compared to most people I’ve met in Bangladesh. When he was younger his mother left the family for another man, so she was pretty much banished and has no rights to see the children or visit the family home. His father remarried and his step-mom raised him and his 2 siblings as her own and he loves her very much. The family has some farmland but no time to farm, so they rent it out to someone else that grows paddy, corn, and a few other things. They are paid in produce, so they have enough food to eat and they sell much of it to earn income.

Bashir’s father had a stroke some years ago and can no longer work, so he earns for the family and takes care of everyone. He is still in contact with his mother. She still lives in the same village, just on the other side, I can’t even imagine the awkwardness of it all! He said that he still checks up on her, and that if she ever needs help he will help her, though he cannot allow her to come to the family’s home, and they will never have a “close” relationship the way he wishes they could. Bashid is hoping to get a job teaching because it is a very respected profession, and it will allow him to live with his family and support them very well on his income.

There is more to his story, but writing nearly a week later I have lost much of the detail. Suffice it to say that his story really touched my heart, and it was obvious from talking to him that he has a gigantic capacity for love and trust, and he is an incredibly honourable person, I was glad to have met him.

So on our journey we went first to the local Rajbari, the Tajhat Palace, and toured around. The grounds were quite beautiful… stepping onto palace grounds is much like finding a little piece of paradise. The rajbari was painted white in the front, and in the back it was done in that salmon colour that people are so fond of with white trim. It was built at the turn of the 20^th century by a Hindu zaminder from the Punjab. At one point in the 80s it was used as a courthouse but now it houses the Rangpur Museum. The collection was typical of what I’ve seen by now and we enjoyed checking out all the small displays while we chatted.

Bashir and I walked around the grounds around a pond while weaving between cuddly couples and I found my way into the back garden through a gate that was left open by the gardeners. I enjoyed being outside in the peace and quiet far from cars and traffic, it was very nice.

From there we went to the nearby Kalli Mandir (temple) and I took a few pictures. The caretaker wasn’t there so we couldn’t go in, but we could see through the gates so it was still cool. There were some beautiful trees in the yard (plumeria and red hibiscus). Kalli’s figure is scary, always made of balck stone with big eyes and a red tongue poking out of her mouth. I will have to research more about Hinduism when I get home (man, I used to know so much about it and now it’s all I can do to remember the few main gods!).

After that we went to Carmichael College, Bashir's alma mater, named for a former governor of Bengal sometime in the early 1900s. I took a few pictures but mostly it was an old campus that seemed mostly to be empty of students. The local residence hall was closed for a month because there had been some fighting between two of the campus political groups (they get quite rough sometimes in Bangladesh), and there was no guarantee it was going to open again. In the meantime kids are living at a student hostel in town.

From there we went to the Rangpur Zoo. The grounds were alright, crowded with people because it was some kind of family holiday. For the first time I heard a lion roar, and it was pretty cool. I don’t know why be he was one upset kitty and he was roaring up a storm - the first roar I heard actually made the little hairs on the back of my neck stand up!! GO evolution… wow! We found our way over to them, there were 2 pairs, and I watched them awhile and took a video so you could hear them too - upload coming later!

Zoos in Bangladesh can only be visited if you can handle leaving your ideas about animal rights at the entrance gates, as they are NOT great at taking care of their charges here. My friend Morshed in Dhaka told me that they have run many stories on the condition of local zoos, and the way it contrasts with the amount of money they are given to run them and care for the animals. According to the paper they have shown that there is a great deal of funding for the local zoos, but the majority of the money goes into the pockets of the officials, and little of it goes to food and care.

So the lions, in their tiny care, were cool to see (apart from the part where they ahd pretty much NO natural habitat, and NO room to walk around) I also saw a Bengal Tiger for the first time in Bangladesh - it was sleeping, which is probably what I would be doing if I was locked in a small metal cage. My heart really went out for the animals and I found I couldn’t really stay to even enjoy the gardens because of the state of the zoo itself.

After we left we walked by the local Town Hall that was blaring music - they were hosting some kind of dance show in the evening. We decided to go check it out since it was to be starting shortly, I like watching dance shows, it would be worth the wait! As we found our way to seats I had the thought that there was NO way it was going to start any time soon, as ¾s of the seats were still empty. 90 MINUTES LATER (and not one bitchy comment from me!) things were underway. It wasn’t spectacular compared to what we had expected from the entrance price, but it was a nice way to spend a couple of hours. We left before they finished when things got a little slow; I went back to my dirty hotel and Bashid went back to his hostel. On the way we stopped for sweet and tea because I wasn’t really in the mood for dinner. The nearby restaurant where we’d eaten earlier didn’t strike my fancy, and I wasn’t really hungry anyway.

I found my way back to my hotel in rickshaw, noting that I am not really afraid of Bangladesh in the dark anymore.  I still wouldn't be outside alone "late", like around midnight, but for the most part tourists are still so new here that people are far more afraid of or weirded out by me than I am by them, so the baddies seem to stay away from me thus far.

Back in my dingy room I snagged down my mosquito net (nothing worse than waking up finding that you were the target of an all-night buffet for critters that carry dengue and malaria and encephalitis!!  I cringed noticing the grease smears on the wall where you'd normally lay your head and balled my sweater up into a pillow at the opposite end of the bed.  Oddly, and happily, the sheets were all clean and actually smelled like the laundry, so I took tucked in and watched a bad Hollywood movie from beneath my netting, "The Project" - Oh Meg, why did you do it..., and then went to bed.

It's nice that once the lights are out you can no longer see the grime and grossness on the walls!!

In the morning Bashir called as I was getting ready to go and catch my bus, and he said he would come to meet me since he was on his way to a friend’s place nearby. We went together to the bus stand and he helped me find a bus to Bogra, AND helped me find a ticket that wasn’t marked up double with foreigner-tax. I actually waited in one of the bus stands while he did that, as too many ticket guys were doubling their fare as soon as they saw me. About 5 minutes later he came to collect me and I bought my ticket. We ran over to a snack shop and I got a couple bags of chips, a mango juice and a cold cold 7-up for the ride since I hadn’t eaten breakfast.

Bashir helped me onto the bus to find my seat and waited with me the couple minutes until the bus was pulling out of the station and continued on his way to meet his friend while I moved on to Bogra.

Bogra, Bogra, Bogra... now what was I going to see in Bogra again??.... Oh well, find out when I get there I guess!  :) 

Day 1in Dinajpur: Katanagar Temple, Nayabad Mosque, Uttam’s Family

So late at night I took the train up to Dinajpur. It was meant to leave at 8pm, but in true Bangladesh-style the train was a mere 4 ½ hours late. I went home after buying a ticket rather than waiting in the sweaty hot station in the dark and returned by CNG about 2 hours later. I changed out of my normal sarong into capris - I figure when travelling around at night it’s better if I put people off as much as possible, lol.

The wait at the station (yes, I still waited… they said the train would (late already) arrive at 11pm, but it was 90 minutes after that) was the usual sideshow. Me sitting around doing nothing, a schwack of people sitting around watching me doing nothing.

The good thing about always being on everyone’s radar is that there’s always someone to tell me when it’s time to go. So, the train arrived and I found my way to my car. I paid for a sleeper class ticket. This particular train was not the least bit fancy; 2 people to a car, one bunk up and one down - me and a businessman.

The train staff came in and brought blankets (well, a “pillow” and a sheet, which was fine for me) and about 15 minutes after that I was tucked in on the top bunk and trying for sleep. The train was Unbelievably noisy, and beyond the normal clackity-clack I am quite certain we stopped ever 12 minutes, but I did manage to sleep off and on over the following six hours. When the sun started to rise I was awake, still tucked under my sheet and trying to see out the window… the window didn’t reach up there where I was, so I had to kind of lay on my side, face squished against the mattress sideways, and even then I could only really see out the top 3 or 4 inches of the window.
What I saw was beautiful, incredible shades of green covered in thick morning dew, or maybe a heavy rainfall overnight. I changed into a sarong again and quietly slipped out of the sleeper car so I could have the windows… I was SO glad that I did, it was breathtakingly beautiful…

Misty fog rolled in the distance, the sun barely over the horizon, enough light for the greens and yellows to sparkle under their dewy cover. I sat in the open doorway, feet on the step and sometimes dangling, and I loved it. Wind rushing by blowing in my face, incredible views flying out the door, it was wonderful! I took a few videos, and smiled to myself as I kicked my feet like a kid whose feet couldn’t reach the ground when seated (handy, I didn’t lose my flip-flops!), I was happy right to the tips of my toes and no longer cared about the late night, the jerky ride, the lumpy bed, or the late train - none of it mattered it was all worth it for that very moment.

My friend Uttam texted me a few times while I was on the way, and rather than arriving at 5:05am like the original schedule we pulled in around 9:30am, haha, just a weeee bit late but he was there waiting for me. We grabbed a rickshaw to a hotel up the road, one his uncle owns, and I took some time to shower and change my clothes so I could go about the rest of my day.
After about half hour I went out and the manager told me that Uttam had needed to run out for a bit, but that he would be back in an hour and that I should wait in my room for him. Now if you know me, the fact alone that this man (smiling and friendly though he was) basically stood in front of the exit to the hotel and told me to go to my room and that I couldn‘t come out until given permission was enough to make me push back… if it’s dangerous outside, Of Course I’m going to listen, but if it’s because “no woman can exist without a man at her side,” forget it, I won’t do it, and that‘s what was going on here.

I tried polite at first, “thank you, but we both have cell phones, I will call him and let him know where I am but I am going to go walk around until he arrives“, then I tried straightforward, “I am an adult, and I’ve paid for my room - you can‘t make me stay in the hotel, I am going outside and I don‘t need your permission.”

No matter what I said he just kept insisting that I wait for the next hour until Uttam came back. I asked several times “why” I couldn’t leave (I had started wondering if perhaps Dinajpur was dangerous?), but we had major communication problems that all just came back to him saying “I am your elder and you must do as I say.”

So, I did the only logical thing I could think of, short of crossing the line and shoving past him - I called Shahed, my “little Bengali brother” in the army, and explained the problem and asked him to please find out WHY I couldn’t leave the hotel alone. 3 minutes later I had the phone back and was waved politely on my way… Shahed said “I explain to him, ‘I am a soldier in the army, and she is my sister, so you must listen to me. She is always alone travelling, and this is not the first country she has been to, she is not like our Bengali women so you must let her alone - if there is trouble I will come for her.’ So, any problem, you must be calling me - okay? Now you can go.” I laughed quietly and shook my head, realizing that I was still “given permission” by a man to be out on my own, but at the very least it got me out of the house!!

I thanked my little brother very much and ducked out the door to walk up the road. Market stalls, tea stands, phone shops and appliance centers, it was the regular smattering of shops, the regular smattering of people, nothing or no one particularly bothersome. I had a cup of tea at one of the little spots, and then Uttam called to say he was on his way.

We met back at the hotel and walked over to his family’s home. I was invited inside and we had tea and cookies while I played with his 6-year old nephew Ammon… he brought me his schoolbooks where he had been practicing English vocabulary words in his very neat and cute curly-cue writing; Next came a workbook of nursery rhymes like “Hickory Dickory Dock” and songs like “Twinkle, Twinkle” so I sang a few of them for him and he was all lit up, making me twice as happy.

We had tea and chatted in the bedroom for awhile. I met both of his parents and his sister-in-law. Several neighbours came in while I was there to smile and stare silently from the doorway, sometimes talking quietly together behind their hands and with huge smiles. Then I met Sister Tracy, a Catholic nun who happened to be bustling by when Uttam grabbed her and said “we have a girl from Canada visiting in our home, come and talk to her!” She invited me to the convent the next day, and I told her I was looking forward to it - I hardly turn down an invitation these days! We took a few photos in the family’s home, and then it was time to go so we said goodbye.

From there we caught a rickshaw on the main road to get to the bus stand, he had decided that we would go out of town a ways and visit Kantanagar Temple. It was beautiful, and we ran into some of his family there so we visited awhile (they visited, I wandered around taking many pictures and having many photos taken).
After we finished visiting the temple we walked the 2kms to nearby Nayabad Mosque, and I was really glad that we did. The walk along through the village was nice (Uttam pointed out every 18 seconds “they are really enjoying to see you, everybody is smiling”) and requested several times that I take photos of people along the way.

At the mosque there were a few men there for prayer, and Uttam quickly made friends with them and they walked around with us - it was very nice. The mosque was cool, old built 250 years ago at the same time as Kantanagar temple (it was actually built for the men who were working to build the Hindu temple, so it was completed long before the temple, which took more than 20 years to finish). I didn’t go inside (I have only been inside one mosque since I arrived) but I enjoyed it very much from the outside and took tons of pictures, including a few with them.

After visiting the mosque we walked back up to the temple and had something to eat. Lovely leaves for plates, we found a small patch of shade and had some rice and vegetables. You know, I didn’t know you could GET food at a temple, but there you go!

From the temple we took an auto rickshaw back to town, arriving back around 6. We met again at 7 and walked around town, Uttam mostly showing off his new foreigner to his neighbourhood friends until she got cranky from lack of food about an hour and a half later (I thought we were going for dinner at 7, he didn’t tell me about his show-and-tell plan). At 830 I told him I was going to eat; he could join me or he could not, but I was going - enough.

Went to a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant at the New Hotel (which is very very old) and had fried flatbread (porata) and thick lentils (boot dal) and the BEST cup of tea I’ve had in Bangladesh… I asked for my regular ginger tea (adda cha) which they don’t usually serve, and rather than telling me no, they made me a cup in the kitchen - YAY!!

So of course after food and drink I was in much better spirits and I politely sat and visited with Uttam and his friends (I.e. got stared at and sat politely while they spoke in Bangla and smiled at me). I was back in the hotel in my lilac room around 10 and ready for sleep - what a great day!

And We'll All Float On, Ok...

My last few days have been a little discontented and disoriented, like I've realized that I no longer have any idea which way is up.  A couple of days where I am forced to remain in place give a girl a lot of time to think.  Is this a good thing?  I don't know.

I am travelling in a country where men and women have very different relationships and social rules compared to where I come from, and that is stressing me out.  People (i.e. men) are friendly, but they are often friendly with follow-up - please find someone to pay for surgery for my sick niece; please take my mother to Canada with you, she can cook and clean for you and you can just pay her a dollar a day and give her room and board; please let me come with you to Canada and live there; here, please accept these 15 text messages of love poems because I love you and will die without you even though we only talked once a week ago my heart is changed forever... the last couple of days it's been wearing on me a bit, so I'm hiding away from it all until tomorrow when I get back on the road, where I will endeavor to bring my patience.

The other day I opened my alternate email account, which I haven't checked in over a month (I never use it anymore.  I don't use it because pretty much the only messages I get are from the university, newsletters and on campus student stuff (which I am not part of) and I'm not in classes right now so I didn't think there would be any big news coming through those channels that I wouldn't get in the general group mails that go to my main account.

Well, that assumption was made in error.  My inbox had a note from the university that was sent a few weeks ago telling me that my presence is requested at a practicum back home on campus for 2 months beginning the first week of July in my hometown. 

The tone of the email/letter is friendly and informational, but it seemed to me that the "requested" part was actually more of a "required, or we will terminate your position in the program" kind of request.  I sent an email to find out exactly what it was they were asking me, and I await the answer.  I am meant to be traveling through the end of July, but I will not lose my position in the program over my gallivanting.

I am a little miffed about another "thing" being tossed into the air in front of me, but overall I'm happy I read the email before it was too late to do anything about it.  At least now I have time to find out the real deal and make plans accordingly, if anything indeed does need to be done.

I have intentionally not been thinking about home; not been thinking about plans, about returning home after a year and a half, about not having a job, about not having any idea what I'll do with myself when I get there, about school, about any of it - purposeful avoidance in order to maintain some kind of equilibrium in my own mind.  

I am feeling like a feather blown about in the wind, spiralling and floating and not sure where I'll land when the breezes stop. 

I don't enjoy it, this being unsure part, so I'm going back to ignoring it and not thinking about it for now... I need some time to just float on...

Float On (Modest Mouse)

The Nicest Thing

http://www.jango.com/stations/113298293/tunein?proxy_id=43267863&song_id=128590

"The Nicest Thing"

All I know is that you're so nice
You're the nicest thing I've seen
I wish that we could give it a go
See if we could be something


I wish I was your favourite girl
I wish you thought I was the reason you are in the world
I wish my smile was your favourite kind of smile
I wish the way that I dressed was your favourite kind of style


I wish you couldn't figure me out
But you always wanna know what I was about
I wish you'd hold my hand
When I was upset
I wish you'd never forget
The look on my face when we first met


I wish you had a favourite beauty spot
That you loved secretly
'Cause it was on a hidden bit
That nobody else could see
Basically, I wish that you loved me
I wish that you needed me
I wish that you knew when I said two sugars,
Actually I meant three


I wish that without me your heart would break
I wish that without me you'd be spending the rest of your nights awake
I wish that without me you couldn't eat
I wish I was the last thing on your mind before you went to sleep


Look, all I know is that you're the nicest thing I've ever seen
And I wish that we could see if we could be something
Yeah I wish that we could see if we could be something