Day 2 in Srimongol

What a great day!

[Note: You will have to hunt for most of the photos from this day on Flickr because I just don't have the time to wait for the stinkin' internet to upload them all, sorry!  Once I'm all caught up I'll go back to normal]

Philah came by to get me this morning around 10am. While I was waiting for him a few kids came by to play accompanied by the standard attachment of adults. They started with begging for change and ended with Tootsie pops (bad for the teeth but good for the smiles!).

When Philah arrived he took me by motorbike to his project, a small compound about 10 minutes outside of town. We had to drive through a bit of construction to get there because they just discovered a natural gas reserve nearby. Philah mentioned that Chevron (the company responsible for the plant going in) has been good for the local people. Many of the people of nearby villages (the tea hill tribes) work in the green tea plantations for 48 Taka per day - that’s just over 50 cents; with Chevron they are making 150-200 Taka per day… can you even believe the difference???

So, we visited Philah's project, and it was fantastic.  I want to provide you with more information about it but I can't find the weblink - when I do, I'll share it!

We looked around the yard and after we sat for a bit I got to go into the next room and meet all the kids - what a great time I had!! Rows and rows of little ones set up on the floor with their book bags and books out in front of them. When we went through the door they all stood up and said Nomoshkar (hello) very politely. Phila told them I was from Canada, and asked the kids with Canadian sponsors to stand up - each of the kids knew the name of their sponsor (though the little ones forgot!), I was very impressed.

After introductions 2 little girls came up and shared their worship song (and dance) with everyone (I’ll upload some video of it if it worked out!) followed by a little boy that got up the guts to do it on his own and he sang a completely different song. Phila had asked them to do a song since I was there, and then (turnabout being fair play and all) they told him they wanted me to do something for them!


After some nervous puzzling (these kids don’t study English as a subject) I decided I’d sing them Itsy Bitsy Spider and show them the actions that went with it. First I explained the story to the kids (Phila translated), and then I sang it for them, it was very fun. I wrote out the words on the chalkboard and Phila and I sang it together for them a few times so he could learn it before he had the kids copy it into their notebooks. The adults around me were humming Itsy Bitsy Spider the rest of the morning, I loved it!!

**

From there we left the kids to their work and drove out to the bird sanctuary whose name I’m going to have to look up. On the way out we passed through a few villages Phila was unfamiliar with. We decided that they must use fishing as their main means of support as everyone was carrying baskets and such for fishing at the end of the morning. They seemed to have more Muslim families, but otherwise I couldn’t really tell if anything was different.

When we arrived at the sanctuary area there was a man sleeping under a tree, he followed us up to the lookout tower. There was a sign on the tower saying how much each thing was (an hour in a boat, entry to an observation tower), but when we got to the top of the stairs the observation was LOCKED! I had thought that the sleeping man would have been the one with the key, but nope! He just happened to be sleeping under the tree and came over to see what we were doing, have a chat and such.

Oh well, such is life - not like there are enough visitors to warrant a full-time person looking after the tower area, but you would think it would make sense to hire a local village person to keep an eye out for when people stopped by? The project gets money from USAID, but I don’t exactly know where the money goes, so who’s to say really. So we spent some time just relaxing there. We looked around the sanctuary and sat on the grass looking out over the water and listening to the birds, it was really lovely.


After that we rode over to the other side of the lake on the bike because Philah had heard we could go there to see some big fish in the ponds. Philah, always humming and laughing with an easy smile is like a big kid and he is marvelous company.  He enjoys nature and told me that he likes to watch the fish play in the water. I had to agree when we came upon a spot where there was a schwak of big fish that it was very nice watching them flip and flop around in the shallow water as they chased bugs and swam about. It was perfect, and while I think he  kept expecting me to get bored I really enjoyed myself, it was very peaceful. It showered on us a tiny bit but nothing to give us concern yet.

As we drove along plenty of people raised their hand in a wave or shouted hello (the kids shouted Da-Da!). Philah was very friendly and I assumed that perhaps he knew some of the people, but he said that he didn’t. He laughed and commented “if I were just riding alone nobody would raise their hand to greet me, but since they see a foreigner they want to be friendly.“ This is the case as I’ve seen it in most of Bangladesh.


After the sanctuary we returned back to the project and Philah mentioned that the area we went to (the sanctuary) is kind of considered off-limits most of the time as it’s a group of extremist Muslims (I saw a number of signs written in Arabic and wondered where they came from!). I’m not sure exactly what they do that is overly extremist, but I trust him at his word.

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Something I love about Bangladesh is that for the most part Muslim, Christian, and Hindu people seem to get along side by side perfectly well without any major malfunctions, but I suppose it is easy to say that I only have the briefest of ideas because I’m here for such a short time. However, in my short times, I see that even in the tribal villages families have different religious beliefs between the three, and also a fourth, because some of them have indigenous religions that they still follow (though Philah tells me that those numbers are really dwindling).

On the ride back to the Project we drove up to the top of a hill where there was a great view of the valley below. Philah mentioned that the entire area (much like the tea gardens) was much greener and more lush and the river would be full during the rainy season that comes during June and July, which made me think about whether or not I could come back again later before heading to SE Asia this summer, but the jury is still out.

Once back at the project we walked around the nearby tea garden village. Most of the homes there were built with mud, and to me they looked like they had been poured out of concrete. The people mix up a big schlop of mud and then after 2 days of leaving it sit they can use it to build and make repairs before the rainy season comes in June.

The mud in this area is red like PEI and Arizona. You can also find white and gray mud in the area near the river, and people use the other colours to paint designs in their yard and on their houses. Goats and chickens were everywhere underfoot, and I saw the cutest tiniest baby goats I’ve ever thought possible out frolicking around in front of one of the houses - I only wish I’d had my camera handy but I‘d left it at the project!!

Nearing the edge of the village we stopped and sat to visit with one of the families that was getting their yard ready for a wedding later that evening. The women were steadying a young tree and building a base around it. This would be the centre of the marriage arbour where the couple would later dance around and have their ceremony.

I found myself wishing I could see a local marriage ceremony but it was only a thought. Philah said that most of the people in the village had probably never seen a westerner before which is what made them so curious and so shy. As we walked people had gathered to peek around their gates or over their fences at us.

We stayed and visited for about 5 minutes while random people stopped in or poked their heads around the corner at us and Phila chatted amicably with the grandfather, whose grandson was a student involved in the Compassion Project. He offered tea which we declined, it was a very nice visit.

When it was time we said goodbye and I waved at all the kids and we took the village path down to the back side of the project. We washed up and had lunch, a fried rice with curry and a boiled egg.

I’m diggin’ eating with my own hand. I swear, you should really try it once or twice. Do it when nobody else is home if it creeps you out, but there is something immensely satisfying about mixing the food on my plate with my hand and eating. I also eat slower, and eat less.  It’s hard to explain the whole thing really, you’ll just have to try it yourself!!

**

The project site is between two tea garden villages, one of them that we had to drive through on the way out. As we left we passed many people Philah knew and they either waved or said hello. As we went by what must have been the fiftieth wedding gate of the past few days Philah stopped to say hi to someone and one of the young men asked if I would like to come in and see the wedding preparations - would I?!?!!!!! So I said uh-huh-yes-please! and wandered into their yard. There were about 15 (maybe 20?) women dressed in beautiful clothes, hanging out and waiting for things to start (still many hours away). There were also kids running around in nice clothes that were likely getting dirtier with each passing hour - nobody seemed to mind.

The groom, still dressed in dusty work clothes and wandering around the yard looked to be about 18 or 19. The arbour was set up with the tree in the middle, just as we’d seen with the earlier home in the village, and it was decorated all around with brightly coloured paper, plastic flowers and streamers.

There were candles lit, and it appeared that it was just waiting for the bride and groom (and midnight) to come. I took some pictures and they offered us a chair and tea (we declined the offer (with thanks) of tea from the busy family) and just sat for a moment taking it all in. I took a few more photos and then we were on our way again. So close, so close, but I wasn’t gonna see this wedding either.

On the way out the door one of the young men in the yard bid me follow him into the house so I did, and I met the very reluctant looking young bride who was sitting dressed in a pretty yellow sari on a wooden chair in the house’s only bedroom. She twisted the scarf in her hand and chewed on the end of it, not even looking up from the floor as I entered. I asked Philah to please wish her well for me and to tell her that I hoped her marriage was a happy one and he was kind enough to do so. I figure she was probably about 15 or so. 

We drove past the Finlay tea plant on the way out of the village and one of the local men suggested going in to take a tour - of course it’s my rule (did I mention that already?) not to turn down an offer of experience from someone trustworthy, so of course I said let’s go!

We walked up and were ushered into the manager’s office, a man with a hennaed moustache and hair that spoke quite a lot of English. He has a friend in Toronto so he was familiar with Canada and was curious about my life asking many questions (I felt like I was being interviewed!).

When his questions ended I asked him if I could visit the inside of the factory, and he told me that since it was the end of the winter season the plant was closed, there was no production until June. He did however gift me with 2 ginormous bags of green tea from the plant - one of the only places that makes green tea in Bangladesh - all of its product is exported to Pakistan!


So, he got busy and we showed ourselves out and into the clerk’s office. We said hello to him as well after we were offered chairs and chatted briefly (he was very busy, though I have no idea what they were doing with the plant closed!). A man came and handed me the two very large bags of green tea and stowing them away we said goodbye and thank you and went back to the bike. Next stop? Tea shop!


We drove through miles and miles of tea garden, it was so beautiful - I think I could spend the entire day driving through without getting bored. In all the places I’ve been in my life I have never been to another place that knows green the way Bangladesh knows green. Nature’s palette was surely exhausted when it came to colouring this beautiful country.

Philah suggested tea (I’m always game for a cup!) and he headed us toward town. He was struck with the idea to visit some Kassi people who were in town (I think he wanted to check in on the Bangladesh match too!), and soon enough he pulled the bike up into the yard of a rental property in town. It was sort of a duplex really, with a bunch of young people living in it. 13 of them actually, in the small 2-bedroom home.

They were all Kassi kids who had come into town to attend school and get a better education than they could in the village and Philah was greeted like a favourite uncle. The oldest of the boys boy was from LawaChora, Philah’s village, so he gets to go home more often. Some of the others are from Kassi villages that are farther away so they only see their families a couple times a year - even the ones that are away for elementary school. In our short visit it seemed to me like they were pretty normal happy kids that were well adjusted to their situation.


I have an immense amount of respect for those kids, especially the oldest girl (Chablis) who seems to have running the house in well in hand - 13 kids in one home, the 2 oldest in 11th grade going down to early elementary school age, and they were managing just fine on their own. Sleeping arrangements were on the floor. There was a modest kitchen area and a bathroom. They had a TV running through an old computer monitor and a regular desktop for schoolwork (but no internet). Boys in Kassi tribe don’t seem to wear any special clothing, but girls usually wear a tshirt with a long skirt and a sash worn across the shoulder; when they go to school the girls wear ‘mainstream’ clothing, but when they’re just around the house they all wear their own normal clothing.

We stayed about an hour visiting and I chatted briefly with the two oldest who were brave enough to try out their English, I mostly just giggled with the littler ones who were running to and fro all around the yard. We had tea and watched some cricket while they all chatted, and I felt like I just stopped in on his family, which is really I guess what we did! As we were leaving Chablis said “please come again, sister,” and I could tell that she meant it. Philah told her that come rainy season I might be back to stay with them awhile and she made an excited squeak and told me I would be very welcome. Such a doll.

As we climbed onto the bike Chablis ran out after us to the gate to wave, and a few of the other shyer girls I hadn’t really seen peeped out a goodbye and a wave as we drove away. I don’t think I’ve met any people friendlier than the Garo and Kassi people of Bangladesh.

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We drove onward in search of tea. I think Philah was headed for the same spot we’d gone to the other day, and as we rounded the corner we came upon Poresh and his wife. Well, we found his wife, he was off hiring a motorcycle. She was wearing a beautiful sari and looked very pretty. She told us they were on their way to a wedding. And what happened next? The universe conspired in my favour and she invited Phila and I along - yayyyyy!!!!!!!!!

We waited for Poresh to come back with an old putter of a bike, and we were off! I thought the wedding was nearby but it was quite far, it seemed about an hour by motorcycle. We rode past a gate that said something about “No tourism activities permitted” (I didn’t quite read the whole thing) and as we were just out of reach the guard started to wave at us but we were already long gone. As I was about to ask Philah he mentioned that sometimes the guards at the gate stopped foreigners from going through and that he had avoided eye contact in case they were going to stop us. Since the guard only noticed at the last second that I was a foreigner he was too slow, so on we drove.


We passed through about 5 different tea estates, 3 villages, and one patch of pretty sketchy feeling road that was too thickly tree-lined for its own good. It sprinkled a little but nothing too bad and we pulled up to a house after winding through the third village and stopped the bikes. Going in Poresh’s wife (I wish I remembered her name, she was so sweet to me!) grabbed me by the hand and dragged me behind her telling me that it was her brother’s house.

It was a huge 6-bedroom house built of mud. He worked for one of the tea estates as permanent labour driving the tractor; this meant he got a better and more reliable wage and could afford a bigger home. It was the biggest one I’ve seen actually. We waited there while everyone finished getting ready, and then we started walking to the wedding.

I was sorely underdressed in my capris and black tshirt but they swore it didn’t matter and that nobody would care. The girls (5 of them) almost made a little circle around me as we walked once it got darker. The 2 men (Phila and Poresh) came behind with the bikes. The girls ushered me away from some spots along the path, and out of sight (sort of) depending on who we were passing.

I actually got the feeling that they were worried about me being in the village at night, and that they were trying to shield me from sight at some points. This is not the easiest task if (a) you don’t tell me I should be being extra inconspicuous, and (b) if I’m 5 inches taller and 5-10 shades lighter than everyone around me!! So I was pretty downright conspicuous, but I did my best to avert my gaze when they seemed tense - however, I was still on the lookout for trouble and wondering what they were so worried about. They didn’t bring it up though, so I didn’t ask, I was fine and with a big group of friends.

We arrived at the first wedding and Poresh’s wife took me firmly by the hand and dragged me through the gate. We were ushered past the wedding arbour (where the ceremony was already in progress) and into the main room of the house where the groom’s elderly mother was hanging out. I’m not sure why she was in there and not at the festivities, but there she was. They pulled in a bunch of chairs for us and we sat and chatted - they chatted, I sat and watched what was going on out the door!

When I greeted the grandma (seeing as how I was a wedding crasher) I crouched down on my heels in front of her on the floor and just had my say in English - what else was I going to do, right?! She took my hands and shook them lightly and smiled and said that she felt very honoured that I came to the wedding and that she felt horrible to have such a special guest and not to have prepared anything extra on my behalf. I urged the others to please tell her not to give it another thought (I was uninvited, and touched by her welcome), but she was quite upset about it even as we left.

I went out the arbour after she had settled again so I could see some of the ceremony. Apparently it was going to take a couple of hours, and really I just wanted to see a few minutes. I wasn’t going to interrupt everything with my camera, but the family insisted so I flashed away some terrible night shots. As I was moving around to take photos random people were shoving others aside to make more room for me; at one point they actually brought out a lawn chair for me to sit on while everyone else was sitting around on the grass or standing behind me.

I knew they were doing it out of respect but I admit that I felt terribly uncomfortable and in the way. I took a few more pictures (one or two women kept popping up and gesturing about what kind of shots I should take, so I did as they asked - of course none of them really turned out because it was dark and I didn't have a tripod, and...) and then thanked them again for the kindness and tried to melt back into the house.

They brought us all glasses of water and some cookies - in Bangladesh when anyone comes by you always offer water or tea and some kind of snack; even in their busy time with a wedding ceremony going on they took time to bring something out for us. I’m not sure why the people I was with weren’t staying long, but after half hour they were ready to go, and the girls dragged me out by the hand after I said goodbye and thank you to grandma. As we walked out the marriage gate it seemed that we walked right into ANOTHER wedding!!

We walked in, my hand being squeezed tightly by Poresh’s wife and we were ushered into a tent. We all sat around a big table and had some desserts that I’d never tried before; interesting, very interesting. We kinda ate and ran after making the rounds to the groom and the unhappy painted bride. I didn’t want to take her photo because she looked so miserable, but the sisters insisted so I took one shot in the dark room and we were on our way again.

We walked out to the main road again and the girls seemed less worried so I was less worried. The guys came along with the bikes and did an on-the-spot oil transfer (Poresh’s bike was out of oil) before we started on our way home. Each of the girls in turn came and took my hands in theirs, looked into my eyes for a few seconds with a smile and said “ok, goodbye for now.” It’s another time I’ve not been happy to be saying goodbye and I barely knew the girls.


We started off on the bikes and the drive was slow in the dark. Again with the bicycles and rickshaws and people walking in the night without any lights. About 20 minutes into the ride it started to rain. About 25 minutes into the ride it started to pour, stinging drops on the skin until I was sure that Philah couldn’t see where he was going. Poresh and his wife were ahead of us and they finally pulled over so we could wait out the rain. They found a hayloft with a few more of the usual suspects avoiding the drench and we all climbed in.

I was quite grateful for the hay. Since the average temperature right now in Bangladesh is around 28C I was wearing only a tshirt and capris, and I was quite cold. That would have been nothing compared to how cold everyone else was though, they were positively frozen in comparison!  Me?  Once we were in the loft for a bit you would have found me snuggled in, laying down with my head on my bag in the pile of hay, snug as a bug in a rug for the hour that we waited out the storm.  Now I know why you always find cats curled up on cold nights in the hayloft!!

They started talking about the patch of road I thought was creepy on the way there.  Apparently they were all scared going through the same patch on the way home because it was dark, and that stretch of road is known for badness.  Philah said “I was quite worried in there for a while, especially because I am driving with a foreigner on the bike with me, and you never know what could happen.”  I’ll leave the details out to spare you the internal drama, but suffice it to say that we were safe and warmer and faaaaaaar from that patch of road by the time we stopped. I couldn’t decide if I was happy or not that they hadn’t mentioned anything ahead of time, but it was done with by that time and then it didn’t matter so I just put it out of my mind.


After that hour it still hadn’t stopped, but we were about 15 minutes away if we just got going, so off we went. It was damn cold and nobody was at the ‘no tourist’ gate that was willing to come out and shake a finger at us. By the time we pulled in to their yard I actually had a hard time climbing off the bike because I’d had my arms wrapped tightly around myself keeping in the warmth and my legs wrapped tight around the bike - it’s not so easy to peel yourself off afterward!!

At their place Poresh’s wife gave me a dry shirt to throw on and Poresh ironed my shirt dry. I laughed my butt off because it was a tiny stretch t-shirt with sparkly lettering that said "Careful... I had a bowl of cranky this morning!!" 

It was a very clever idea to iron the rain out of my shirt (thank you Philah!), and I was all kinds of grateful. We stayed long enough to get warm again, Poresh set Philah up with some dry clothes, and he drove my back to my guesthouse on his motorcycle in light rain before setting off for his half hour home. At least by then it had nearly stopped raining. I’m sure his wife had been worried about him since the cell phone service there wasn’t awesome, and I was happy to find out later that had gotten home safe - even though it was probably to an angry wife! : )It was nearly 11pm when Philah dropped me off and I got back to my room. Had I been at home I’d have had a hot bath or shower to warm myself up, but here there is no hot water. There ARE warm blankets though, so I put on my track pants and a long sleeved shirt and climbed under the covers. It wasn’t long before I was warm and falling off to sleep.

What a brilliant day.

From Dhaka's Airport Station to Srimongol

Platform at Dhaka's Airport Station

So there I am sitting down on my backpack, earphones in, sunglasses on, trying to ignore everyone.  I didn't have my music on yet, it was just a diversion to get people to perhaps keep a little distance - I was tired and just wanted to get going, really.  A crowd gathered after only a minute, and though a policeman kept coming by to shoo them away they kept coming back like moths to a flame like they just couldn't stay away (insert other suitable of your own here).

Mostly I just drank my warm pepsi (Ohhhh, how I have taken refrigeration for granted!) and ignored them because I was STILL feeling over stimulated with the noise of the city.  I turned my music on and listened to some chilled out tunes from behind my sunglasses, and pretty much ignored everyone (as much as possible when random strangers keep gathering to keep an eye on me!).

learning Bengali numbers!


The train arrived about 10 minutes late and I asked for help from several people along the train to find my car (it was written in Bangla, not English - Bangla does NOT use the same system as we English folks for numbers!!), and I climbed aboard JUST as the train was pulling out of the station - I had a very fun moment pulling myself up onto the train as it was pulling away, every mother in the world did that scared breathing thing and I just giggled, pulling myself and my bags up onto the moving train car - it was even the right car, woohoo!!

Silk City Express to Sylhet

I sat alone awhile in my air conditioned chair while the men in nearby seats covertly sideways glanced at me quietly sitting and staring out the window.  About 25 minutes into the ride a woman and her little girl sat in the seat next to me and didn't really speak other than to nod hello.  The little one (about 5-6 years old maybe?) was very curious and kept peering at me from behind her mom's scarf, she was very cute. 

the calm before the storm

She got sick all over her mom about 20 minutes from their destination and I pulled out my hand wipes to help them clean up a bit. Two stops later a young man enroute to Sylhet (the next big town north of my destination, final stop for my train) sat down with me and we chatted awhile about his school and stuff.

The sign at Dhaka's Station

A train steward came about 20 minutes before my stop to let me know it was coming up, which I thought was really considerate. They don’t announce the stops for each station and if you blink you might miss the only sign that's standing on its one remaining leg with chipped, faded paint, so it was really helpful. When the time came I was up and ready with my bags.
So this is Srimongol, okay...


I climbed down from the train and walked out to the front of the station. Not too many people around. Looking out the front doors there was a small dusty street in front of me, and small market stalls to my right and left once you stepped out from the platform cover. 
 
So I'm here, buuuuut: what to do now?
 

I hadn’t been able to find a phone before leaving to call Philah and make arrangements with him to meet me, so I guess I needed to find a phone!!  I could ask a random passerby, but that just seemed strange... surely I could think of something better?  I wondered if Philah was going to be too busy with his work to come get me and put it in the back of my mind that I might be walking through town on my own to find a guesthouse and meeting up with him later.  But first: find a phone!

I walked down the dusty streets of Srimongol toward what looked like would be the centre of town and I passed a phone shop where they sell mobile phones and recharge pay-as-you-go phones. I saw a landline phone sitting there so I pointed at it and then at me and said "phone?", and he did that funny side to side head thing people do here when they mean yes - YAY! Victory!!  I can use the phone!!

I handed him the number and he dialled up Philah, who said he would come and meet me at the station right away, that I should just wait there. I trucked myself slowly back to the station feeling a little like the pied piper as a small collection of people trailed (much less than subtly) behind me and then stood growing in numbers in a semi-circle around me after I sat down on my pack up against the wall .

I have taken to sitting with my back to a wall or fence because when I just sit out in the open people have a tendency to actually gather in a complete circle around me, and that makes me nervous.  I know they don't mean me harm, but there's something in my DNA that just tells me it's a B-A-D idea to let myself be surrounded like that, so now I avoid it and plan ahead: I know they're going to gather, but now I control how and where (and usually stay in sight of someone in a uniform AND the general public who are NOT so interested in me, just in case).

I took some video of the people who surrounded me, and by this time I was in much better spirits than I had been earlier in the day while I was still in Dhaka. There was less city noise, and the people were just curious, I didn’t mind. One little boy in particular was very sweet and friendly and every time I was near the station he came running up to see me (he later came to call me Auntie Canada).  So far I only know where to find him by video and have no snapshot of him, boo!

Nobody really talked to me, though in approximate 30 second intervals a random faceless male voice in the crowd would ask me some version of "Your country, madam?", to which they would get my smiling standard one-word reply as they giggled and smiled and laughed and stared. 

Philah, my new friend from the
Khassi Lawa Chora Punjee

Philah arrived after about 15 minutes on his motorcycle. I only saw a man making his way through my little crowd with an easy smile saying, “Are you from Birisiri?” I had to think about it for a minute... “Yes, I suppose I am from Birisiri!” I smiled. “I am Phila, let‘s go!!” and we set off together into town on his bike.

Farewell (for now) to Birisiri

 WELL, it’s time to leave Birisiri.  I’m not ready to leave, and I don’t want to leave, but Anthony has made arrangements with his friend to meet me tomorrow in Srimongol (which I've already put off once), plus the Japanese group of 13 or something is coming so Animesh will be busy, and I don’t even know if there’ll be room around here still (I am afterall taking up an ENTIRE dormitory since Animesh doesn't want to put anyone with me!), so it’s time to go.

I was up early to fold my bed down and such and I read in the early morning sun again for awhile. I wandered down for breakfast and had planned to leave by 10. Since it was only 8 I was in no rush and I had an unhurried breakfast and tea. I walked around the Y grounds and took a few flower pictures. I had breakfast and tea and visited with Animesh until it was time to settle my bill.

He wouldn’t let me pay for my meals, he only billed me for accommodation, no matter that I argued with him until he was mad at me and I stopped.  "Guests don’t need to pay, and you are my guest", is what he said to me. Tears threatened to spill down my face as I paid and I was grateful to have made such a good friend.

Time to say goodbye, we wished one another well and talked about the fact that it may be the last time we saw one another, but I hope that it will not be. We both had tear-filled eyes as I lightly hugged him goodbye (a handshake just wouldn’t good enough for me at that point), and he asked Luis to walk with me to catch the bus.

I couldn’t help the tears as we walked down the village path to the main square, and my heart desperately wanted to stay in this place that suddenly felt like a second home after so little time. Thankfully Luis didn’t check on me as we were walking, and I had dried my eyes before we reached the end of the path. As we walked I looked around and hoped that I would find a time and a reason to come back again to Birisiri, the place is truly one of my heart.

We reached the main bazaar area to find tons of buses, but for some reason that I didn’t understand none of them were selling tickets. Mr Happy, the excitable and eager ticket wallah from my ride TO Birisiri was in the square and came running up to me spouting rapidfire Bangala, gesturing a takeoff with his hand and then making and X by crossing his arms while shaking his head with that famously dramatic frowny scowl: No Go.

I didn’t know what the heck was going on, but I was looking for any excuse to stay so while I was puzzled I happily followed Luis to a nearby snack stand to wait while he sent someone on motorcycle to fetch Animesh to rescue me again. When he came to meet me I discovered that “the bridge accidentally broke” so there WAS no bus out of Birisiri today. Ha! No bus means I don’t have to go!! 

No no no, Animesh wouldn’t let me stay. “You have plans to visit in Srimongol, and you will meet the friend there, you must go.”  Man I hate when people behave like grownups when my heart wants to be a child. He hired me a motorcycle to drive me to Mymensingh (pronounced MyMenShing), the nearest big town.  About 5 times he told me “You will NOT pay this man any money, I will pay him - you will only buy your ticket in Mymensingh.”

When I opened my mouth to argue the first time he put his hand up and shushed me and by the 4th time I was crying again though I tried to prevent my eyes from springing a leak I couldn’t help it and I had to look elsewhere as I sorted myself out.  My big brother to the last moment of our visit, he made sure that I got safely on my way. 

The men strapped my small pack on the bike’s rack and I carried the bigger one on my back as we set off and I waved a sad goodbye from the back of the bike and we wound speedily through town and out to the main road.



Birisiri to Srimongol (the short version)

I am safe and sound having gone from Birisiri to Dhaka and now to Srimongol, Bangladesh.  I have written and written emails and blogs but I cannot upload from my netbook so for now it's just a progress note!  In the morning (or maybe later tonight) I'll try transferring everything to my zip drive (well, the writing at least) and see if I can send it. 

Short version... Bangladesh (especially once you LEAVE Dhaka city!) is incredible.  While the first couple of days on my own had me a liiiiiiittle freaked out I am now mostly settled in nicely and have adjusted to the country.

I spent (remember, this is the short version) 3 days in Birisiri, and I have to say, that place absolutely stole my heart.  I arrived around 930pm after my 7 hour bus ride turned into a 10 1/2 one (apparently I did not catch the express bus, lol, it was INSANE).  I found my way to the YWCA by rikshaw (my first real rikshaw ride at night down dark delapidated village roads, yay!) and made an incredible friend in Animesh who is running the guesthouse.  He is a member of the Garo tribe.  While I visited he absolutely treated me like his little sister.  He showed me around the Garo village, brought me to people's homes, took me for tea and snacks at the local shop, and toured and introduced me around for a couple of days.  I had originally planned 2 days there but couldn't leave, I loved it there so much.  I am still thinking of going back again before it's time to leave Bangladesh.

When it did come time to leave Luis from the guesthouse walked me to the main street to help me figure out the buses.  When he asked around what we eventually got (Animesh showed up again to help me) "I'm sorry, the bridge is accidentally down" - I couldn't catch a bus out because one (or 2, I later saw) of the bridges on the way to the villages collapsed!  Animesh hired me a motorbike that took me to Mymensingh (yay for motorcycles!) and I found the bus there (got the last seat too because they were so nice to me!) to Dhaka.  Birisiri so touched my heart, especially my new big brother, and I cried on leaving and halfway down the highway to Mymensingh (which I blamed on the wind in my eyes). 

When I got to Dhaka I checked into a hotel there for the night, and first thing this morning took a rikshaw (let me just say that it is IMPOSSIBLE to find either of those things in Dhaka before 7am, I walked for 20 minutes!!) and then CNG to the train station to catch the train to Srimongol.  In Birisiri Animesh's uncle Anthony (another amazing guy, he's the social worker over at the Compassion Project (I might have the name wrong, I'll check later)) phoned his friend Phila in Srimongol (the next stop on my agenda) and asked him to show me around when I arrived in town (which was today!).

Phila (pronounced Fee-La) is the Chief of the nearby Kassi tribe and the director of the local Compassion Project, they neglected to mention those things to me, lol... He met me at the train station once I found my way to a phone, and he has been absolutely fabulous, without a doubt.  He found me a guesthouse strightaway (run by a friend of his), and spent his whole day showing me around (more on that later).  I met his daughter and his wife and took the tour of his village, it was fantastic.  Tomorrow morning he's going to pick me up at 10 (or "sometime before 11", Bangladesh-time) and take me over to his project, I can't wait!!

For now I'm going to go back to my room and get cleaned up (I'm covered in a fairly thick layer of grime from riding around on a motorcycle all day!), walk up the street and get some dinner (I'm quite over-the-top with peckishness), and then come back here to see if I can get gmail to open (so far no luck, which is how I ended up here!).  I'll also come back armed with a possible update on the other things if I can use my zip drive, but NO promises at this point!!

(OOoooh, there is some TERRIBLE yowling (maybe singing?) going on on a mic outside, it is baaaaaaad!)

Talk to you soon, don't worry about me I'm excellent: happy, peaceful and content (if thinking a liiiiitle bit about how I might be able to live in Bangladesh for a bit, knowing full well that this is the danger of me travelling to new countries, lol), and if you think I'm thinking about you, you're right.