You know those days when you just wake up with a smile on your face for no reason? That was me this morning. I am in an exceptionally good mood today.
My alarm went off at 6, and I dragged myself out of bed for a quick yoga session before coming downstairs to an amazing breakfast--irish oatmeal (thanks R!), fresh mango (that I got from the garden, more on that soon!), pineapple, and a steaming cup of Ethiopian fair trade coffee. I'm telling you, life here is tough. Last night I washed a few dishes just because I didn't have to. This morning though, I was in a bit of a hurry, so I only could manage a few pages of Peter Hessler's "Country Driving," which is a fantastic read for anyone with the slightest curiosity about what it'd be like to drive around China. I admire the way he describes the Chinese people with such dexterity; if I could emulate any of that in my writing about Bangladesh, I'd be quite satisfied.
Breakfast has to be quick because in my planning for working offsite, I forgot my editor's notes on my desk at work, so I have to "swing" by the office on my way to North End. There is nothing quick or easy about Dhaka, especially if you lack transport (although with transport it's still not quick, but you sit in an AC-ed car while you wait). I embark by foot. I moved recently to an even posher neighborhood than I was in before, so the rickshaw wallahs are even more ridiculous in their pricing than I imagined (for a tk 40 ride, he asked for tk 200). But now that I insist on raising a fuss in broken Bangla, at least it's an opportunity to practice what I'm learning in class. On the other hand, when I take a rickshaw from the BRAC office, it's a pleasant ride and they rarely fuss when I give them tk 50 (tk 30-40 would be the Bangladeshi price). Although yesterday one kept saying, "Ami apnar wife, bhujjen na?" (You are my wife. You don't understand, do you?). I think that if I have to ward off advances during the ride, the price should go down. Especially if the rickshaw driver is a.) married, b.) has kids, and/or c.) is a bit creepy. But my bangla isn't that good yet--it is good enough to say "I do understand and I don't want a husband."
Anyway, back to this morning. The monsoon season officially began last Thursday, so it's been raining on and off most days. This means that there are BIG puddles all over, so you have to be prepared for some jumping and hiding when cars come by (the splashes can be devastating). I love the moments of calmness that you can find in the early morning if you know where to look, so I have taken to taking a route that requires me to hop a median on a bridge so that I can walk along the water. It's totally worth the adrenaline rush that comes with getting across in one piece (and holding onto my scarf since I'm still convinced that it will lead to my death when it gets caught on something and drags me away; there have been several close calls).
Once the road turns away from the water, I cut along a side "path" that lets me get a little more of the waterfront walk. It takes me past a few little food stands, set up on bamboo poles perilously perched in the water or on the ground, depending on the water level. In another city, you'd be paying big money to sit out in an open air restaurant with this kind of view; here you could enjoy a cup of tea for almost nothing. It's still early so there are a few people eating some breakfast while others wash dishes and prepare to open. Yesterday was the first day I'd walked through there in a while, and one guy came up to me and said, "Hi girlfriend. You are nice, beautiful. Sweet scented." Now I know he's lying! I'm tickled but keep walking. Today, I see him again and when he notices me, he jumps out onto the path to try again. "Hi friend, how are you?" I respond, "Bhalo acchen?" He smiles, "Hehhhh, apni bhalo?" I do a "coy" (by my assessment) little head nod and keep walking; he's shouting to his buddies about the interaction. I can't wait to see how tomorrow's conversation goes. I have this problem with letting situations escalate because I'm just too curious to see what happens. Keeps things interesting at the very least.
My Bangla is not improving at the rate that my love for the language of Bangla is increasing. It's a fun language. I love that you can make a really nasally "hehh" and it means yes. I can't quite take myself seriously when I do it because I feel like I'm simulating how I would sound if I had a bad cold, but I like it when other people do it, nonetheless. It comes from the gut; it's genuine, instinctive. Unlike the head nod, which I'm now starting to use as a ubiquitous response to everything (unless it involves someone being my husband, in which case NO is important to communicate very clearly).
I get to the BRAC office just before 8AM and manage to sneak in to grab my papers without almost anyone seeing me. Five minutes later I'm out the door (if I'd been 10 minutes later the elevator rush would have begun and it'd have taken 5 times as long). But not before seeing one of the guards to whom I'd promised mangoes on Saturday. I say, "apnake aam dibo" (I will give you mango). She is surprised and excited; her son really likes mangoes. I manage to ask her where she was yesterday (since I'd brought them then but given them to other people since she wasn't around). She took the day off; something I would never do if I thought someone was bringing me mangoes. But it was good. I manage to buy two pepsi diets all in Bangla (normally I speak just Bangla but the shop owner speaks English), and noting the rapidly changing color of the sky, hop in a rickshaw to get to North End a bit quicker. "Brishti hobe?" I ask my driver. I constantly think it's going to rain and get told it's not going to. Today is no exception, except for the fact that today I'm right, and within 5 minutes there is a massive downpour. I have a rain coat but wrap it tightly around my laptop bag. I can survive a little water, but I'm not sure about it! We pull over, I get out and from under the seat, the rickshaw wallah pulls out three pieces of plastic. And puts the hood on the rickshaw up. I get back in and he puts on piece of plastic on me. He takes the bills out of his pocket (I note that he has quite a lot of change, which will be helpful when we square up at the end of the ride) and puts them in a bag, and then puts the final plastic bag over himself. I had hoped that he'd put the small bag on his head--many people do that here and it looks like a clear peter pan hat. I kind of want one. Still time, I suppose.
He deposits me at North End, and I'm in too good of a mood to bargain hard (it's still much less than tk 200), so we both leave happy. Up in the coffee shop, Smriti has brought me a massive ketal (jackfruit) that I'm to take home and cut up. Farhan takes a picture of me with it on my head (the owner, Rick, is out of town for a few weeks and things are slightly sillier as a result...hopefully he does not read my blog). While my scarf dries, I warm up with a good hot cup of (decaf) coffee (Smriti just gives me decaf all the time; probably best for everyone).
And now, a day of writing in my favorite creative spot, listening to the sound of rain outside (makes me happy to be inside and dry, though lunch will be an interesting challenge). Nothing out of the ordinary, minus the fact that I'm just in an incredibly good mood about life today. So I hope that you all are smiling and enjoying your own respective adventures. Up next on my life: eat a brownie and consider investing in a good pair of rain boots and an umbrella.
My alarm went off at 6, and I dragged myself out of bed for a quick yoga session before coming downstairs to an amazing breakfast--irish oatmeal (thanks R!), fresh mango (that I got from the garden, more on that soon!), pineapple, and a steaming cup of Ethiopian fair trade coffee. I'm telling you, life here is tough. Last night I washed a few dishes just because I didn't have to. This morning though, I was in a bit of a hurry, so I only could manage a few pages of Peter Hessler's "Country Driving," which is a fantastic read for anyone with the slightest curiosity about what it'd be like to drive around China. I admire the way he describes the Chinese people with such dexterity; if I could emulate any of that in my writing about Bangladesh, I'd be quite satisfied.
Breakfast has to be quick because in my planning for working offsite, I forgot my editor's notes on my desk at work, so I have to "swing" by the office on my way to North End. There is nothing quick or easy about Dhaka, especially if you lack transport (although with transport it's still not quick, but you sit in an AC-ed car while you wait). I embark by foot. I moved recently to an even posher neighborhood than I was in before, so the rickshaw wallahs are even more ridiculous in their pricing than I imagined (for a tk 40 ride, he asked for tk 200). But now that I insist on raising a fuss in broken Bangla, at least it's an opportunity to practice what I'm learning in class. On the other hand, when I take a rickshaw from the BRAC office, it's a pleasant ride and they rarely fuss when I give them tk 50 (tk 30-40 would be the Bangladeshi price). Although yesterday one kept saying, "Ami apnar wife, bhujjen na?" (You are my wife. You don't understand, do you?). I think that if I have to ward off advances during the ride, the price should go down. Especially if the rickshaw driver is a.) married, b.) has kids, and/or c.) is a bit creepy. But my bangla isn't that good yet--it is good enough to say "I do understand and I don't want a husband."
Anyway, back to this morning. The monsoon season officially began last Thursday, so it's been raining on and off most days. This means that there are BIG puddles all over, so you have to be prepared for some jumping and hiding when cars come by (the splashes can be devastating). I love the moments of calmness that you can find in the early morning if you know where to look, so I have taken to taking a route that requires me to hop a median on a bridge so that I can walk along the water. It's totally worth the adrenaline rush that comes with getting across in one piece (and holding onto my scarf since I'm still convinced that it will lead to my death when it gets caught on something and drags me away; there have been several close calls).
Once the road turns away from the water, I cut along a side "path" that lets me get a little more of the waterfront walk. It takes me past a few little food stands, set up on bamboo poles perilously perched in the water or on the ground, depending on the water level. In another city, you'd be paying big money to sit out in an open air restaurant with this kind of view; here you could enjoy a cup of tea for almost nothing. It's still early so there are a few people eating some breakfast while others wash dishes and prepare to open. Yesterday was the first day I'd walked through there in a while, and one guy came up to me and said, "Hi girlfriend. You are nice, beautiful. Sweet scented." Now I know he's lying! I'm tickled but keep walking. Today, I see him again and when he notices me, he jumps out onto the path to try again. "Hi friend, how are you?" I respond, "Bhalo acchen?" He smiles, "Hehhhh, apni bhalo?" I do a "coy" (by my assessment) little head nod and keep walking; he's shouting to his buddies about the interaction. I can't wait to see how tomorrow's conversation goes. I have this problem with letting situations escalate because I'm just too curious to see what happens. Keeps things interesting at the very least.
My Bangla is not improving at the rate that my love for the language of Bangla is increasing. It's a fun language. I love that you can make a really nasally "hehh" and it means yes. I can't quite take myself seriously when I do it because I feel like I'm simulating how I would sound if I had a bad cold, but I like it when other people do it, nonetheless. It comes from the gut; it's genuine, instinctive. Unlike the head nod, which I'm now starting to use as a ubiquitous response to everything (unless it involves someone being my husband, in which case NO is important to communicate very clearly).
I get to the BRAC office just before 8AM and manage to sneak in to grab my papers without almost anyone seeing me. Five minutes later I'm out the door (if I'd been 10 minutes later the elevator rush would have begun and it'd have taken 5 times as long). But not before seeing one of the guards to whom I'd promised mangoes on Saturday. I say, "apnake aam dibo" (I will give you mango). She is surprised and excited; her son really likes mangoes. I manage to ask her where she was yesterday (since I'd brought them then but given them to other people since she wasn't around). She took the day off; something I would never do if I thought someone was bringing me mangoes. But it was good. I manage to buy two pepsi diets all in Bangla (normally I speak just Bangla but the shop owner speaks English), and noting the rapidly changing color of the sky, hop in a rickshaw to get to North End a bit quicker. "Brishti hobe?" I ask my driver. I constantly think it's going to rain and get told it's not going to. Today is no exception, except for the fact that today I'm right, and within 5 minutes there is a massive downpour. I have a rain coat but wrap it tightly around my laptop bag. I can survive a little water, but I'm not sure about it! We pull over, I get out and from under the seat, the rickshaw wallah pulls out three pieces of plastic. And puts the hood on the rickshaw up. I get back in and he puts on piece of plastic on me. He takes the bills out of his pocket (I note that he has quite a lot of change, which will be helpful when we square up at the end of the ride) and puts them in a bag, and then puts the final plastic bag over himself. I had hoped that he'd put the small bag on his head--many people do that here and it looks like a clear peter pan hat. I kind of want one. Still time, I suppose.
He deposits me at North End, and I'm in too good of a mood to bargain hard (it's still much less than tk 200), so we both leave happy. Up in the coffee shop, Smriti has brought me a massive ketal (jackfruit) that I'm to take home and cut up. Farhan takes a picture of me with it on my head (the owner, Rick, is out of town for a few weeks and things are slightly sillier as a result...hopefully he does not read my blog). While my scarf dries, I warm up with a good hot cup of (decaf) coffee (Smriti just gives me decaf all the time; probably best for everyone).
And now, a day of writing in my favorite creative spot, listening to the sound of rain outside (makes me happy to be inside and dry, though lunch will be an interesting challenge). Nothing out of the ordinary, minus the fact that I'm just in an incredibly good mood about life today. So I hope that you all are smiling and enjoying your own respective adventures. Up next on my life: eat a brownie and consider investing in a good pair of rain boots and an umbrella.
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1 comment:
Just reading this blog post put me in a really good mood, even if there are no mangoes in season here. We have PEAcHES, though!
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