Rickshaw Adventure

The picture to the left is directly across from my balcony. It is a mosque under construction. The park is the only one our director has found in the whole city (he's lived here for 7 years). You can sort of tell how thick the haze is from the photo too.

We had breakfast at the house before class today, which consisted of fried eggs, toast, bananas, tea, and Nescafe (instant coffee). This, they said, will be the same every day. It was good, and I am totally cool with having it regularly.

Class began at 9:30, and most of us were pretty groggy from a rough night and the set in of jet-lag. We introduced ourselves one by one to the teachers, then they did the same. We then spent an hour learning the vocabulary necessary to use a rickshaw:

Aye rickshaw walla! (The equivalent of haling a cab, with a hand signal)
Baridhara jabo. (I want to go to Baridhara).
Koto neben? (How much are you asking?)
Tika che (Ok.)
Na (No.)
- I should mention that nothing has a fixed price, and everything is up for negotiation. This made the whole rickshaw thing kind of futile, since we don’t know the numbers, we didn’t know how much they were asking for, and couldn’t bargain with them.

Dani jan (Go right.)
Bami jan (Go left.)
Shota jan (Go straight.)
Tamo (Stop.)


After parroting this exact dialogue back to the teachers over and over again, we went outside to hail rickshaws. They are EVERYWHERE, so actually hailing them was not a problem. As I mentioned, however, since we didn’t know the words to bargain with them, our teachers had to intervene, explain that we are learning Bangla, and get them to commit to five taka. Our teachers got on with us, and off we went.

Riding a rickshaw is pretty scary. They dart in and out of traffic (there are no lines on the roads in Bangladesh, which means it’s pretty much a free-for-all, as long as you generally stay to the left), and you find yourself inches from, if not touching, other cars and buses. Additionally, because there are so many rickshaws, their wheels got stuck together a few times, and they yell at and purposefully bump into each other with relative frequency.

We went to a tea shop and had tea with our teachers and talked about how to dress properly, then went back to our classrooms. We were dismissed for lunch, and being that I was so overwhelmed, I just came back to the flat and began to write for awhile. I’m not sure if I’m putting too much pressure on myself or not enough, but either way, I still feel like there are far too many words being thrown around for me to absorb at this point.

After lunch, we went to the American Embassy to get a security briefing and register our location. After waiting outside of the security gate for nearly an hour, we were finally told that the regional security officer, who was supposed to brief us, was actually out sick, and that no one else was available to help us. It was really a pitiful experience, considering that we are here on a sponsorship from the State Dept. It seemed as though it were just too much of a bother to actually meet with/say hello to us, and we were turned back to our bus without any further explanation.

Free to explore, Kira again offered to take us around, and we were very appreciative. She took us to a sort of upscale department store called Aaroong, which is run by an NGO, and boasts that they pay a fare wage to those who supply their goods. It was a pretty nice store, but that upscale department store snobbiness was apparent even in the workers here, which I found to be quite ironic. I bought another orna, also $2.70, so that I’m not wearing the same one every day.

We were about ready to leave the store, when the monsoon started. Picture that you are standing beneath a giant tarp filled with water, and that someone runs along beneath the tarp slitting it with a knife. That’s what a monsoon is like. It literally poured quantities of rain like you have never seen for well over an hour. When it started to let up (i.e. be just like a normal heavy rainstorm) we ventured back out and hailed down a couple of auto rickshaws to take us home. I was so tired that I started nodding off despite my awareness that my left leg risked being smushed in traffic.

Back at the apartment again, I wrote for about an hour and studied a little before dinner. We waded through ankle deep water on the way there, and that was after it had gone down quite a bit after the rains. My feet are already in a state of disrepair, and I don’t even want to think about what they’ll be like in a couple of months. You can’t really get the dirt off your feet, and because your feet are always wet, they rub against your sandals and you get all sorts of blisters. It’s pretty gross really. And yes, for those of you who are wondering there is sewage in all that standing water. Not only do the men relieve themselves on the side of the road, but when it rains, the sewage drains overflow into the street. On the plus side, I’m building up my immunity like you wouldn’t believe!

After dinner I studied briefly, then went to bed – ready this time with my inflatable neck pillow.

For the record, that huge landslide that killed about a hundred people happened south and east of here. The teachers tell us that this is the worst monsoon on record so far, with more rain and more deaths than ever previously recorded. I appreciate the concerns of everyone who is now thinking I am extra crazy, but so far so good!

Arrival!

17 hours on a plane and 24 hours of combined travel time (actual travel + waiting in airports) is not my idea of a good time. I made it to Bangladesh, however, so all is well. When the plane was landing, I eagerly looked out the window, trying to get an aerial view of the city. I had no such luck, though, as the humidity quickly fogged over the windows. Zia International Airport is unlike any American or European airport in that there are no shops or seated waiting areas. Upon disembarking, everyone must get into their appropriate queue – Bangladeshi Passport, Immigration, or Foreign Passport. Our group waited in line and had each of our passports and landing cards processed for a grand total of about an hour. Then we were finally able to go out into the world again.

My immediate thought upon exiting the airport was that I had stepped into a greenhouse. The air was thick and breathing required extra effort. A small bus, owned by the university, was waiting to take us to our housing. As we rode, many of the other students remarked how clean the city was, particularly in relation to Calcutta, where many of them have been before. I should clarify that Dhaka is not clean. It is merely not dry and dusty, as I gather that Calcutta is. Many of the larger buildings look as though they are only half built, or as though they were hit by a hurricane and never repaired. This appears to be true throughout the city. As we moved further into the city, I saw many “stalls” lining the streets. Constructed of bamboo and corrugated tin, all of these three-sided shops tilt awkwardly to one side. Approximately every fifth shop had a display of bananas hanging in the doorway.

We made our way into the Baridhara district, which is where our housing is. Baridhara is in the diplomatic sector, and we were repeatedly assured that it is very safe and far more luxurious than any other place in the country. “To Let” signs boast European style flats. It is my interpretation that European style means tiled floors and bathrooms with showers and toilets. I share a flat with five other girls, and am lucky enough to have my own room. (There are only four students that have to share rooms in the whole program, but I am so thankful that I am not one of them!) We have three bathrooms, but only one working toilet – and the seat of that toilet is broken and held together by clear packaging tape. There are three showers though, and all of them have hot water. (One of the other flats had no hot water the first day, and on the second day had no water at all.) Also, there are cockroaches the size of a big toe in our kitchen, despite the fact that we don’t have any food or even a trash bin. I don’t know what they are eating, but they certainly don’t look malnourished! So yes, the luxury is that we have a toilet and showers! On the plus side, the flat I live in is 3 blocks from the house where our breakfasts and dinners are served (henceforth referred to as “the house” because it is the central meeting place), and 4 blocks from where our classes are held.

We were given a couple of hours to shower and rest, then a lunch of rice, mixed vegetables, and fried fish was provided for us. We have a sort of chef/butler named (or at least pronounced) Milan. I think all of the work is actually done by a woman, as I have seen her in the kitchen, but she doesn’t ever speak, and Milan seems to take it as his sole duty that we are well fed. He (or more likely the mysterious she) also does our laundry for us. It’s sort of a strange feeling to sit at a table and have someone put food in front of you, and to have someone else do your laundry. We are all a little uncomfortable with it, but still very grateful.

After lunch, we went to our first class, where we met our teachers. There are 6 of them altogether, though I can’t even begin to tell them apart yet. After being given the “don’t drink the water” lecture for the 7th time so far, we learned how to introduce ourselves to others and how to ask another person what their name is. We also learned a greeting and a farewell. The greeting translates roughly to “Peace be upon you,” but the farewell is very specific to the Muslim culture, and translates to, “God be with you.” The transliteration for the farewell is “Allah haphej.” You can also say “Khoda haphej,” which is a more general word for “God.”

I’m all about the transliteration. The teachers keep insisting that we just listen and repeat what they say, but the acoustics of the room make it incredibly hard to hear them, and even harder when we all parrot back some garbled interpretation at the same time.

After class, Kira, one of the students from last year, took us out to Golshan Two – another district. Some of the girls bought Salwar Kameez at a fixed-price shop (no one is able to bargain at the marketplace yet). I bought an “orna,” which is basically like a shawl you wear backwards. I’m not too keen on it, as it makes me feel like I’m choking, but it’s a modesty thing, and people tend to look at you like you’re horribly immoral when you don’t wear one (so much so that we were aware of it on the first day). It was 190 taka, which is roughly $2.70.

We met back at the house at 7:30 for dinner (oven baked chicken, spicy potatoes, something like vegetable tempura, and lychee for dessert). After dinner, we waded back to our respective flats and all of us went straight to bed. My bed, in optimistic terms, is like sleeping on the beach – which is to say that it is softer than lying on concrete, but not softer than sand. Additionally, Bangladeshi pillows are the most useless things ever. They are about 9 inches tall, and just as hard as the mattress. The first night, I tried to use them, and found that the only way to do so was to prop my head and shoulders on them (to avoid having my neck at a 90-degree angle) so that my body was in a half sitting position. That didn’t really work, so I tried getting rid of them altogether. Also quite uncomfortable. At 1:45 a.m., I had the brilliant idea of inflating my little neck pillow from the plane. While by no means ideal, I was finally able to sleep!

An "Initial Impression" Overview of the Group

I’ve spend the last 24 hours meeting the other people who I’ll be spending the summer with. Here’s the list of names, universities, and “status” of each individual – along with my some extra info I’ve learned about each of them:

Naheed Ahmed - James Madison University (Recent *under*graduate - Anthropology)
Naheed grew up in Fairfax county and her parents are Bangladeshi, though they’ve lived here the majority of their lives. Her primary focus is on her cultural heritage – as well as the fact that her undergraduate degree focused on South Asian Studies.

Samantha Christiansen - Northeastern University (Graduate - History)
Sam lives in Boston, is married, and has a four year old son named Atticus (after Atticus Finch in “To Kill a Mockingbird”). She is a PhD student who is writing her dissertation about student involvement in the 1971 Bangladeshi Liberation war.

Megan Cohen - Brown University (Recent *under*graduate - Anthropology)
After the summer program, Megan is staying in Bangladesh until January – doing an unpaid internship with BRAC (Bangladesh Rural Advancement Committee).

Alex Dodson - University of Texas at Austin (Graduate - Anthropology)
Alex showed up to orientation with his wife and very literally newborn baby. He also has a 7-year-old son. He was previously in the Peace Corp in Bangladesh, and is writing his thesis on the disenfranchisement of tribal Bangladeshis living in the Chittagong Hill Tract region.

Anne Friedman - Brown University (Recent *under*graduate - Sociology)
Anne plans to get her Master’s in social work, but her primary interest in Bangladesh is feminist outreach and microcredit in developing countries.

Karen Frost - Mount Holyoke College (Undergraduate - Asian Studies)
Karen did the beginner program last year, and is returning this year for the intermediate program.

Diana Hochner - Temple University (Recent *under*graduate - Anthropology)
Wants to study microcredit in the place where it began.

Kira Krown - University of Wisconsin, Madison (Undergraduate - Asian Studies)
Kira did the beginner program last year, and is returning this year for the intermediate program.

Jennifer McFadden - Georgetown University (Graduate - Linguistics)
Jennifer did the beginner program last year, and is returning this year for the intermediate program.

Katherine Meck - American University (Recent *under*graduate - International Affairs/Relations)
Kate wants to study microcredit in the place where it began.

Noelle Miller - University of Southern California (Undergraduate - Anthropology)
Noelle is majoring in anthropology and film, and plans to make a movie about her experience in Bangladesh.

Luke Murphy - Yale University (Undergraduate – Humanities)
No details available.

Thomas Neal - University of Michigan, Ann Arbor (Undergraduate - Linguistics)
No details available.

Sabrina Rahman - Columbia University (Graduate - International Affairs/Relations)
Sabrina’s parents are both Bangladeshi, and in addition to its relevance to her major, she wants to learn about her parents language and culture.

Ann Marie Spencer - George Washington University (Recent Graduate - Economics)
Annie is another one interested in microcredit.

Christiana Thanos - Columbia University (Graduate - Social work)
Christiana worked in an orphanage in a Bengali speaking area of India last year, and plans to return there throughout her life, which is why she wants to know the language.

Out of 10,400 applicants, I still wonder how I made it into this group… as I don’t have a similar background to any of these people. They’re all very “academic,” which makes me a little uncomfortable. They’re all talking about their next degree or their Fullbright applications… Meanwhile, I’m all, “Yeah, I’ll finish my Master’s when I get around to it…” Fortunately, my self-confidence is pretty unshakable, so I’m sure I’ll survive – even if they all think I’m a slacker :-)

The Bengali Alphabet/Script

Bengali is written in a script called the Bengali script. The letters in the Bengali script are grouped together based on the way they are pronounced. The first 11 letters are all vowels. Then follows the consonants and finally the semi vowels.

The consonants are grouped based on how they are pronounced. First comes the velar consonants, then the palatal, the retroflex, the dental, and the labial consonants. Each group contains five consonants.

All the vowels come in two versions in the script: full vowel and vowel sign. The vowel sign is much simpler than the full vowel. It is used when a vowel follows a consonant. If a vowel follows another vowel, or if a words starts with a vowel, the full vowel is used. The is no pronunciation differences between full vowels and vowel signs.

The vowel signs are written next to the preceding consonant. Some vowel signs are written before, some after, some below, and some above the consonant. And one vowel sign is simply not written at all: the absense of a sign is the sign itself! This vowel is called the inherent vowel.

If two or more consonants are following each other, then the consonants are not written in full. Instead they "melt together" and form a new symbol. Some of these symbols are easy to recognize. However, some are very different from the full versions of the consonants.

Bengali uses the same punctuation marks as English, except for the full stop which is represented by a vertical line.

Source: http://www.it-c.dk/people/pfw/bengali/index.html