Monday, June 21, 2010
Ami Ingreji Shikkhika: My Experiences Teaching English in Shaturia
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Dui Mash Shaturiai: 2 Months in Shaturia
I'm not really sure where to begin. I guess I'll start by saying that life here is difficult. There is no mistaking that fact. Life is also incredibly different from my life in the U.S. and even my life in Dhaka. Village life is slow. I'm constantly fighting my impatience at every turn. Nothing happens on time and nothing happens quickly.
One thing I really want to work on is befriending more villagers. My interactions with villagers have been quite limited, unfortunately. It is incredibly difficult to have meaningful interactions with people. So far I have chatted with 2 or 3 women, befriended one rickshaw-walla (I'm a regular customer now), and have gotten to know a few local shopkeepers. Most people here have never seen a foreigner before. Some people are afraid of us, some laugh, and some stare. Others are overcome with excitement and yell out any random English words they know or various other noises. Many people stare and point and yell, "BIDESHI!" (which means foreigner). Most women our age spend most of their time in the home so we rarely get a chance to talk to them.
Unfortunately, many of our interactions are with either young men (often sleazy) or older creepy men. Many of the men take pictures of us on their camera phones as we pass by (surprisingly common here) or try to follow us, desperate to have a word in English or Bangla and find out where we are from. While I fully understand their curiosity, it is difficult not to become weary of being treated like a spectacle. I try to take it all in stride, because I know that my being here is incredibly unusual and that we are all learning how to get along with each other. I must say, though, that every time I go to the market a crowd of 20 men will form within 2-5 minutes. They stare at me with fascination as I bargain with the shopkeeper and they fill each other in on the action as each new observer arrives (just like people watching a sporting event). It's actually quite funny, because I can understand what they are saying (it's moments like these that I feel as though I live in a David Sedaris novel):
Villager 1: "Where does she live?"
Villager 2: "She lives in Shaturia."
Villager 1: "How many months will she live here?"
Villager 2: "6 months."
Villager 1: "Which country?"
Villager 2: "America."
Villager 1: "What is she buying?"
Villager 2: "Eggplant and tomatoes!"
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
In January I Went to India
After Jaipur and a bout with strep throat, we made the absurdly long and hellish journey from Jaipur to Amritsar (via Delhi) by 2 separate trains. By this time we began to realize how ambitious our itinerary was, given the state of Indian public transport (kind of a nightmare). Amritsar was very cold, but I fell in love with Punjabi music, people, and food. The Golden Temple was absolutely spectacular (a rival to the Taj in my book) and we walked barefoot for over an hour in the cold and fog as we circumambulated the complex (once again, so worth it!).
From Amritsar we took another long journey to Dharamsala (the home of H.H. the Dalai Lama and the Tibetan Government in Exile), where I studied abroad during college. Dharamsala has begun to feel a bit like home to me. It was amazing to be up in the mountains again, away from the sounds of the city (especially after living amongst Dhaka crowds and traffic). In Dharamsala we ate and shopped. I was also able to see my homestay family and one of my dear friends from study abroad. I left Dharamsala feeling refreshed and reenergized. Next came the epic 12 hour winding bus ride back to Delhi (they actually handed out barf bags). Back in Delhi we shopped some more (I was a dutiful little consumerist) and ate A LOT. We also went to Old Delhi where we saw the Red Fort and Jama Masjid (the largest mosque in India).
Old Delhi was also my one time venture into street food, for the infamous Jalebiwalla (jalebis are my favorite Indian sweet –fabulous fried and syrupy goodness). After Delhi we flew back to Dhaka, and one week later Lauren and I moved to Shaturia –our village.