Few snaps from India

Breakfast at Srijita's parents' house in Kolkata.
Sweet way to start the day!

With Amanda at the Dkashineswar
Kali Temple, in Kolkata. 

The hills of Orissa on a rainy day.

For many women in Orissa, bringing water up to the village
is a daily task.  These women now have piped water and taps
in their kitchens and bathrooms.

Large parts of Orissa are vulnerable to cyclones.
All homes in this village were constructed
in a disaster-resistant design.

Formal opportunities for women to work are rare in Orissa.
Women and girls shell cashews all day for about $1.50.

We stumble across a tree that's at least 200 years old.

Traveling from Brahmapur to Bhubaneswar (Capital of Orissa),
we sneaked up to the sleepers' class where we could sit comfortably.
There were a steady supply of vendors with tea and tasty snacks,
like this freshly made jhal muri.

A quiet Saturday morning on College Street, back in Kolkata.
Nice to be back in a place where no one really stares at us,
and everyone speaks Bangla.

Self help groups are a popular strategy to help women
become more involved in family finances and save money.
This is a group of women from the slums of Patna who help
each save about $4 monthly.

A government school in Patna, where most of the students are
the children of informal workers--domestic aides, rickshaw
drivers, street vendors--living in nearby slums. 

A community library in a Patna slum.  Clearly no shortage
of talent and energy here.  Once time this slum was
brutally evicted, and the community members stood in front
of the library and said, "you can destroy our houses, but
this building, we will protect."

One of the first areas of Patna declared a "vending zone."
Here the vendors can sell produce free from police
harassment, extortion from contractors and local
gangs, and with ample space for customers.

Bihar may be famous for its mangoes, but I loved the guava.

(Not) just another manic Monday

Note: I wrote this on Tuesday, but didn’t account for not having internet access for two days.  Welcome to real rural development…..

 

Out in "the field"!

It was a heavy sleep, but I had to wake up.  The driver had switched the engine off and was opening the truck to grab my backs.  I opened my eyes and saw a stone castle in front of me.  Its sign said “guest house 1.”  I had not expected to stay in such a noble building while visiting rural Orissa, India.

But there was no time for wonder.  Sleep could only be kept at bay long enough to come inside and throw on my pjs.  While drifting off, one of the many large ants scurrying around my room crawled onto my arm, so I got up and hanged the mosquito net.  I had also discovered that a disproportionate number of malaria deaths in India took place in Orissa, so it didn’t hurt to be cautious.

My first sensation upon waking was sound.  The lullaby of a gentle rain, in a quiet place.  I looked outside and realized that not only was I staying in a castle, but a castle in an enchanted forest.  It was beautiful.  Amanda, who was staying in the next room, was also up, and we were both hungry, so we went off to find the canteen.

Think fast

When you're hungry, you find new meanings
in everything.  Thanks for sharing
this picture, Dad.

Back in high school, one of my best friends was a guy named Melih.  His family was from Turkey, and they were Muslim.  I didn't know much about Islam, but one day, he mentioned he was fasting.  At our high school, everyone ate lunch at the same time, in the cafeteria.  It seemed lonely to skip lunch every day.  I offered to fast with him.  Mainly because I was a teenager and liked to surprise people.  But also because we were close, and it seemed to easier to fast when you had others around you doing the same thing.

My version of fasting was not by the "book," so to speak.  I was on a 5AM-5PM fasting schedule--no food or drinks during daylight.  I'd wake up at 4:55AM, gulp down some gatorade, maybe a few bites of dry cereal if I was really ambitious, and then wait until 5PM to have anything else.  Ramadan fell during basketball season, which was tough.  But I had the superhuman energy of a 15-year-old, so I managed.

Blackout

I think I know why it's hard to find peace in the modern world.  Reliable electricity.  I find that I do my best thinking when our power cuts and the tv, or radio, whatever device I've been using to drown out my inner voice, goes black, and I find myself in a pitch black room, with nothing to do but listen to the noisy generator across the street and just wait.  It might be a minute, or ten, or more.  I find that it's meditative, forced reflection, which is healthy once in a while.
Life in Dhaka is comfortable, maybe even too comfortable, these days.  I've got an air conditioner in my room now.  Of course we've had a lovely cool, rainy spell since it's been installed, so I haven't had to turn it on yet.  Shazzad has a car now, so getting around is now a minor issue.  Finding a place to park, on the other hand, that's a bigger problem.

29 reasons why srimongal is awesome, or reliving my tea-nage years

Is my life on track?
So it seems.

  It's official!  I'm an old lady!  At 29, I can't even claim mid-20s anymore.  How did time go so fast?  I keep having those moments of panic like, "Am I that weird old person at the bar/party/cub that I used to think was so sketchy and weird for being here?!" or thinking that perhaps it's finally time to get rid of all clothes that I bought in high school. Otherwise I should probably stop making fun of Mike Pareles (who coincidentally, turned the ripe old age of 28 on Thursday!!) for wearing ratty old t-shirts.  And I just can't give that up.  Just like I am totally NOT giving up Taylor Swift music (never ever ever....).
I found out earlier this month that we had Thursday off from work--evidently it was also Buddha's birthday.  Once I realized we had a three day weekend, planning kicked in.  Another trip to Srimongal, my favorite getaway in Bangladesh, was long overdue.  Naveed and Shazzad immediately agreed to go with me, and then we coerced Boshir bhai into coming with us.   This was critical--Naveed is my bff(n) (Either best friend forever, or best friend for now, depending on the situation) and we have a tendency to gang up on Shazzad.  Boshir bhai always takes Shazzad's side, so it a.) means that we can engage in trivial debates for longer, and b.) meant that Naveed wouldn't feel like a third wheel (he might even have someone to hold hands with, but more on that later).  Boshir bhai has this last second wave of doubt and indecision, at which point Naveed and I really strong armed him with as much guilt, excitement, and intimidation as we could muster between the two of us.
On Thursday morning, I wake up to the sweet music of rain.  I go out on my balcony and watch the people on the street.  I admire that so many pedestrians are totally unfazed by the rain.  They don't run, they don't walk fast, they just walk while getting soaking wet.  Rickshaw drivers have pulled out their plastic Peter Pan hands, and plastic sheets for those driving in the rickshaws to cover themselves with.  I'm so caught up in the romance of the scene, it doesn't really dawn on me that this is probably not great roadtrip weather.  Luckily it's slowed by the time we take off, and we've rented a sturdy van with a surprisingly reliable driver for the journey.  The journey still takes longer than it had the times I'd gone before (about 7 hours, including all of our stops for food, fuel, and tea), but there's no comparison between the comfort of traveling in a van and the non-AC bus.  I'm just glad I've taken the non-AC bus enough to have a sense of how truly luxurious this type of travel is!

Better lucky than smart

Lucky people get to eat cake for breakfast.
With their dad at Queen City Bakery in Sioux Falls, South Dakooooota!
(and Mom, brother, and SISTER-IN-LAW, not pictured)

My dad and I have a running joke (you know, the kind you tell when jogging) that when I was a kid, he tried to make me feel like everything good that happened to me was a result a good luck, not talent.  It’s healthy for kids to have a strong sense of luckiness, rather than self-achievement.  And maybe luck really is something that you can cultivate!  Easier than learning to be smarter, right?

These last few weeks in particular, I have been super lucky!  Flying west from Dubai to New York, my Emirates flight had a wonderful crew.  I know because I couldn’t sleep and got up to stretch my legs, only to find that the guy on the aisle was in deep REM when I came back and I ddin’t have the heart to wake it (that is, after I nudged him hard a few times to no avail).  Instead I struck up a conversation with the flight crew—they were as international as you’d expect—one was from Lebanon, another from Argentina, another from the Ukraine—and really kind.  When they found out that I was a chocolate fiend, they were happy to hook me up with a nice stash that would hold me over the whole trip (there is nothing like being cranky on the bus and finding chocolate in your purse—instant good day!).

I had a great trip around the United States—New York, Boston, and even South Dakota—full of nice runs, delicious food, youtube videos (multiple viewings of the Taylor Swift "I knew you were trouble" video with goats spliced in--is this really a thing?!  Holly cried from laughing so hard!!), plus awesome company and thought-provoking conversations.  Despite the fact that it snowed a lot in Sioux Falls, South Dakota over the past two weeks, for the 4 days that I was there, we managed to have sunshine and 70 degree weather.  Good thing, since I was traveling with a pair of flip flops and no jacket.  In New York and Boston, I didn’t quite so lucky with the weather the whole time, but managed to borrow a few layers to tie me over.