Reflections on Bangladesh-First Trip to Town
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Ram Chandrupur,
Bangladesh
Monday, November 21, 2005
FIRST TRIP TO TOWN (9/8/05)
We decided today was as good a time as any to make our first public transportation trip to town, 12 Kilometers away. Carrying my laptop in the briefcase, the ubiquitous water bottle, Ethel in appropriate dress, and some taka (money) we headed out. At the highway (had to be sure we stood on the right side since traffic drives on the left here) we saw two guys looking like they were waiting to go somewhere. Muktagacha? (one of three words I knew in Bangla) They nodded in the affirmative while at the same time seeming to ask who are you and what on earth are you foreigners doing in this place?
We remembered that the Muktagacha MCC office was up the street with the funny looking round domed building protruding too far out. We managed to stop the bus (got the driver's assistant to pound twice on the side of the bus indicating to the driver (who could not see what was going on in his bus because he was hidden by 50% more people than what there were seats on the bus) that we wanted off.
Alas, the office's phone connection proved too slow to do our meager email business, like sending some short notes to family and friends. An office hand went out on the street and came back with two small towels we so badly needed and we inquired where we might acquire an iron (cotton material is cool, but you know how they look if not ironed). No irons in this town; need to go to Mymensingh, another 12-15 Ks up the road. We decided that was another trip since we told the cook we would be back in time for 2:00 PM lunch.
Lets see, how do we get back home? We want to go the way we came, so lets just stand there hoping something with four wheels and a couple of working pistons comes along. In the meantime we were the star attraction of the hundreds of people (almost all men) plying the street. Nothing came.
A blue shirted Bangladeshi showed up with a neat MCC logo on his shirt, so we immediately had an affinity. Come this way, I'll show you to your bus. (We notice staff are looking out for us even when we aren't aware of it.) Our bus was a small pickup with seats and a tarp roof. Long after I thought we were full, more people entered until we were truly Bangladeshi full.
This trip taught me a new definition of "home". Home is where you come to and it feels more comfortable that where you came from. After a mere 36 hours, our humble abode on a Bangladesh farm felt like home.
J
PS: You might wonder why a newcomer to a country like Bangladesh is expected to fend for themselves as described above. You might say it is the MCC way. Fortunately we expected it since we have been around the block a couple of times with MCC. In Bolivia we used to love to stretch newcomers (especially administrative types) by allowing them to get into tight spots that bring sweat to the brow. We're getting some of our own medicine! The good part is that there is no better way to get a feel for a place than to jump in with both feet and swim.
Anyone got a set of flippers?
