when the cows come home

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in reading back through my earlier postings, i am beginning to realize my words will never describe such a dynamic place. dhaka must be experienced. it must be breathed in. it must be walked and it must be touched. in order that you begin to understand my descriptions of dhaka, maybe allow me to case study what i believe to be the epitome of a day here in dhaka:

this morning was my last day in isd and people were expected chatting with me regarding my overall impressions. of course, due to the politeness of morning tea i was explaining some pleasantries of the country and my hope for an exciting future to come--as if i have experienced all that there is to see in dhaka. little did i know the next experience would yet again stagger my perceptions and feelings. i walked with kate, my predecessor and two fifth grade students across the road and into a slum shed village behind the school. the goal was twofold; we were supervising a few interviews the students were conducting, and i was meeting the headmaster of a local school deep within the heart of slum. as we approached and entered the initial boundaries of this tin shack city we passed cows grazing in the greenish puddles of a recent rain. chickens pecked through the dust at our feet, and the most curious creatures peeked from behind the darkness of makeshift homes. soon we were passing naked children on narrowing streets and people smiled across bloodied gums and rotten teeth. kate led us to the home of kabul, a 6 year old boy whom she knew from the slum school. he took us through another series of rights and lefts as we stepped across bricks placed in the fly-infested puddles and into his house to meet his family. as we spoke, using one of the students as a bangla interpreter, we sat their bed. the bed took up a majority of the room and had seven pillows. a sleeping newborn slept on the opposite corner of the bed as a 3 year old sister kept a constant flip of her hands near the sleeping sibling, driving the flies away. as we talked more interested persons began to crowd into the room. before long we were all crammed into a 10 foot square place and soon realized that this event was one of the most interesting to hit this household in recent months. a mother squatting in the corner cooking some dal and rice over some coals. smaller eyes peeking around the knees of adults. after our home visit we walked further down the path and to the school where children echoed from inside the cinder block walls. at one stage dirty water from a rooftop spilled over the roof as i just dodged most of its splatter.

by now we had quite a following, however as we slipped around the locking door of the school gate we lost our parade. we visited 15 students that we as a school have sponsored their education. as we entered each of the four classrooms the students, in their pink uniforms rose to their feet and announced their collective greeting. what a powerful moment as an educator to see learning ignoring economic limitations, bringing students together as a community all unto itself. kabul by now was my mate, holding my hand with his left and wiping the dirt and sleep from his eyes with his other. his wide, four-tooth grin told me that i would return next august to continue to visit kabul and his family.

this evening i just returned from a formal dinner at the westin hotel which celebrated the visit of the portuguese ambassador to bangldesh. putting on my suit coat and straightening my tie i realized the ridiculousness of the day. i laughed to myself on the way across town, swerving through the pooring rain, and finally entering into a ballroom on the second level. here we were greeted by the portugese ambassador and his host in bangladesh. of course both of them, and their wives were very happy that we could be in attendance. quickly we positioned ourselves near the live music and ate tempura from silver platters. we played games trying to initiate conversation with the most important people in the room. we took photos with the ambassador. finishing our wine and fish cakes we headed for the door in time to make justin and kelly's flight to myanmar.

at home now, quietly unravelling the day i realized that one of the most challenging aspects for us next year will be to combat the stark division of culture and class here. coming here with the notion that one can single-handedly change dhaka would be futile. dhaka will happen and one must allow it to happen. attempting to force your presumptions into a pie tin city is impossible. in a place where good and bad is so complex and yet so starkly obvious it will be interesting to see how it all turns out.

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Comments

[Doug and Bec]

Perfect summation
Jake, that is an absolutely perfect way to sum up our city, well done! It's everything and nothing all at once and you will leave us different. We can't wait to have you BOTH here in a few months! Thanks for a lovely dinner and chat, Bec and Doug