I know what it looks like, but my Bangladesh is worth eight cows...

As a young girl, I saw a movie called Johnny Lingo. The story goes that there was once a rich and powerful island trader who had a reputation for being the shrewdest trader in all the islands. One day he went to one of the islands to bargain for a wife. The whole island is aflutter with speculation because he has asked for the hand of Mohana, who was considered to be the ugliest girl in the village!

She was a shy, retiring girl that no one thought much of and she was the source of much ridicule. She was said to have the face of a stone and looked like she'd missed too many meals. Even her father thought of her as ugly and worthless, so when it was her hand that he asked for, rumors flew. With so many beautiful woman in the islands, why would Johnny choose someone so ugly?!

On these islands it was customary that a man offer cows to the father of a girl in payment for her; it's called a Bride Wealth. A woman worth three or four cows was considered a fine catch indeed. Speculations flew throughout the village. Some said Mohana was worth maybe only a three legged cow! Others said the father should be the one to pay Johnny Lingo to take her off his hands!

The time of the bargaining arrived and Johnny and Mohana's father prepared to bargain while the whole village looked on. Johnny asked how many cows the fathered wished to have for Mohana. The village laughed hysterically when the foolish father was so bold as to ask three cows for Mohana! 

Johnny stared at the father quietly, then finally said, "three cows is many, but not enough for Mohana. I will pay eight cows".

The village was shocked! After the bargaining, Johnny went to the village store to order a gift for Mohana. It was a beautiful mirror. The shop keeper decided that Johnny must have offered eight cows out of vanity to make himself look important. Many speculated that he would not show up with the eight cows. 

Good to his word, the next morning he showed up with the eight cows and married Mohana. After the wedding, he took her away on an extended honeymoon to visit many islands. 

Months went by and finally Johnny and Mohana returned to the village. The shop keeper went to their home to deliver the mirror Johnny had ordered and was stunned to see that Mohana was incredibly beautiful and confident. Johnny explained to him that he had loved Mohana since he was a child and that others had not seen in her what he saw. He asked the man to image how you would feel if all the wives around you could boast of being a four or five cow wife and you were worth only one. 

The shop keeper finally realized that because of how her father and others had viewed her, she believed herself to be worthless, but because Johnny had paid eight cows for her and shown her what she was worth to him, she had truly become an eight cow wife.

When I look 

at Dhaka, I see what everyone else sees. I see the the poverty and the filth. I see all of the flaws, but I see other things too. I see the incredible smiles and the strong spirit. When I take pictures, it's because I want other people to see what I see. 

Bangladesh isn't exactly a tourist hot spot, but I see it's beauty and it's potential and maybe someday it will become it's best self.

How could you not find beauty in all of this?

And then we set sail

If you ever have the  opportunity to take a trip on a Contic boat, I would highly recommend you do it.

Once again, we found ourselves meeting up with a group of strangers to go adventuring with. I’ve decided that exploring this way is brilliant as it pulls you out of your comfort zone and you can experience everything through new eyes. This time we were the only Americans; the Netherlands, America, Germany, France, Japan, Marseilles, and Bangladesh were all represented. We had our own miniature United Nations.

It took over an hour driving through brutal Dhaka traffic but as we approached the river, we saw our boat and fell instantly in love with it. It was low lying and rustic and exuded the promise of relaxation and adventure all at once. The long boat was all wood with a sort of rounded bamboo top to it. As we boarded, I couldn’t decide if we were joining the cast of Pirates of the Caribbean or The African Queen but I knew that whichever it was it was wonderful and we were going to have a great adventure. I could already see Derek visibly relaxing after a seven day work week.

The deck was made of rich polished wood running throughout the boat. To our left was the bow which hosted a wooden platform laden with thick cushions and large pillows. It felt opulent. From the bow, there was an open area with wooden deck chairs on the sides and a couple of small tables with games of checkers in the middle for added ambiance.

To the right of that was a covered section and nestled in it was a large platform bed also covered with thick cushions. It oozed quaint charm and felt welcoming and inviting. On the opposite side of the bed, were tables laden with refreshments for our enjoyment. Waiters were there to offer us whatever we wanted before we knew we wanted it. Everywhere were brass lanterns that offered the promise of exotic glowing elegance once the sun went down.

A few years ago, we took a ride on a riverboat in Omaha Nebraska called The River City Star. It was fun, but now it reminds me of an animal in a cage at the zoo. It had the potential for being adventurous, but fell just short. It was a ‘ride’ and the meal they served, reminiscent of cafeteria food. This boat felt alive. Like something beautiful let out of its cage to wander the river. As a bonus, the food was delicious.

A deck hand offered to show us how to get above deck. I was slightly startled and mildly trepidatious as I had noticed that ‘above’ was a bamboo roof that slanted down quite a bit from the center to either side. Following him down the narrow corridor we saw several doors on either side and I noticed with delight that behind each door was a compact yet cozy little room. Some rooms had one large bed and others two twin sized. I made a mental note to work on Derek later to convince him that we needed to do one of the extended tours that they offered.

With the push of a long bamboo pole, we were soon on our way down the Brahmaputra River and we headed up top to explore. ‘Up’ entailed lifting ourselves through a small square hole, flipping around and clamoring onto the heavily slanted bamboo ‘roof’ of the boat. Fortunately it was sturdier than it looked and had a flat spine running the length of the roof. As we climbed up the side I envisioned signing mountains of liability forms had we been doing this in the states. 

There was a large platform at the stern and on top of that stood a weathered looking man in a longhi steering the boat with a stunning wooden rudder carved into the shape of a pelican. He looked quite adventurous as we looked up at him against a backdrop of stormy looking clouds.

The weather was nothing short of miraculous. On the water, the usual muggy Bangladesh weather gave way to a cool breeze drifting across a sky filled with billowy clouds.

There were only about 15 of us and we chatted amongst ourselves, cheerful and relaxed as we got comfortable on different parts of the boat.

The girl who set up the tour was a lovely German girl here on an internship. We chatted with her and her coworker for quite a while. Getting outside of the city was invigorating. You can love Dhaka and still need to get out of it once in a while.

After a while we sat on the platform next to the rudder with the couple from the Netherlands and had to giggle a little (well, I giggled. Derek NEVER giggles);-) when a waiter in black slacks and white shirt and barefoot, climbed through the porthole carefully balancing lovely blue ceramic plates filled with snacks and after that a full tea service. The incongruity made it all the more fun.

We wiled away the afternoon enjoying the breeze and the scenes along the river. As our boat would pass, children would run to the shore or even swim out towards us, waving wildly and smiling. Even the fishermen would wave. It was a perfect way to catch a glimpse of what life along the rivers of Bangladesh must be like.

A while later we were called below for more food. There was a beautiful assortment of dishes I can’t pronounce but when I saw the puffy rice, I realized they were all Ramadan foods. Everything was delicious but as always, the mango was the best.

After sitting in the deck chairs facing the river for a while we decided to head back above. I did a little double take as we walked past the little galley when I saw piles of food being prepared. Hadn’t what we just eaten dinner??

Climbing up top once again, we stood admiring the landscape. It was lush and beautiful and the sky was magical. On our left, our guide pointed out the delta that led off to the Ghangi’s.


Like a giddy teenager I looked up at Derek and say,”hey, we’re standing on a Contic boat at the mouth of the Ghangi’s and Brahmaputra rivers in Bangla-freakin’-desh”! How cool is that? He smiled indulgently, squeezed me and said “pretty freakin’ cool”.

We headed down a little further and finally came to a stopping point and turned around to head back. We passed a boat that initially appeared to be filled with people only to realize it was filled with a few people and a lot of cows. Another boat was riding so low in the water it appeared to be sinking but we were assured that it was designed like that.

A while later, the show began. I have seen sunsets all over the world but this was one of the most beautiful. All of the elements merged together to make it perfect. The boat, the river, the breezes, the clouds, the sky, and the man who brought me here because I asked him to.

With each fraction that the sun dipped closer to the horizon, the colors seemed to explode with more enthusiasm. As the sun set, the mood of the group became pleasantly quiet. As I had feared we were called in for another meal! More food! I wasn’t sure I had room until I saw it. A beautiful, huge, whole fish, chicken, beef, potatoes, vegetables…all Ramadan food, followed by a delicious caramel flan.

 






As we sat in the near dark of a deep midnight blue sky eating our meal, the sounds of the call to prayers wafted across the water from multiple mosques along the banks. At 4:00 am in the morning I’m not as impressed, but tonight it just added to the magic and for the nights crowning glory, out there on the river, away from the city, we could clearly see the crescent moon and two stars shining for Ramadan.

We were almost back. For the rest of the trip I snuggled next to Derek and reveled in the day and the experiences we’ve had since we got here. It was quiet and beautiful and everyone spoke in hushed voices as if afraid of disturbing the magic. We arrived back on shore and piled into the bus, dreading a little our return to civilization, but for that one afternoon we were on a beautiful and peaceful adventure on the rivers of Bangladesh.

For the sake of space, I have only used a few pictures on the blog. To view more pictures following the link to my facebook album

https://www.facebook.com/leni.hester/media_set?set=a.10206869932648030.1073741844.1268439103&type=3&uploaded=77

If you're REALLY a glutton for punishment, just ask and I'll send you the link to all 200 pictures;-)

Oh the places you'll go...(and the things that you'll see)

I've had a...visual...week. In the spirit of decency I will not be posting pictures of my last couple of days. I believe a description will more than suffice. Also, I will attempt to relate my experiences with the sensitivity and dignity that each situation demands.

It began yesterday. I ranted previously about my bad pedicure but have been much too busy to do anything about it. Finally, yesterday I realized I had an entire afternoon free, so of course, I instructed Jasim to get me to a salon asap!

It's a nice salon frequented almost exclusively by locals but as many of you know, I've always been a little obtuse about worrying whether I might or might not fit in and so just go merrily about my business wherever the winds take me.

I approached the reception desk, requested a manicure/pedicure and was ushered back to a small room with six black vinyl chairs, each with a small chrome and glass table in front of it. There were three chairs on either side of the room facing towards the middle where the technicians busily worked massaging and trimming, cleaning and coloring. I know that they do a lovely job massaging hands and feet and was looking forward to a relaxing hour.

As one of the technicians ushered me towards a chair, I sat down, busily organizing my water bottle and purse and generally getting settled in. It wasn't until I sat back in my chair that I saw..."it"...

There, directly across the room from me, sat a woman in one of the spas black cotton wraps. She looked relaxed and content as they colored her hair and applied some sort of a treatment to her face, neck and shoulders. This alone would have caused me no consternation, but as I sat back and lowered my gaze, I came face to face with..."it". 

I have no way of saying this gracefully. Shall we just say that as I sat back in my chair I found my gaze level with her...let's just call it her "woman-ness...her business"...feel free to fill in whatever metaphor you feel comfortable with, the point is I was suddenly most UN-comfortable. I know...I'm old, I'm in a different country, a different culture. I found myself pondering my awkward situation. Is staring into another woman's...you know...normal here? No one else seemed bothered by it. Am I just out of touch?? She shifted slightly and the view was momentarily obscured. I breathed a sigh of relief but she shifted again and my view was clearer than ever. She waxes. Just sayin'.

I know discretion and good taste dictated that I simply look away. I swear, I tried. I buried my face in my iPhone until the manicurist demanded my hand. Haven't you ever seen something so shocking that you genuinely had no desire to see it, but you just couldn't look away? This was just such an occasion. I sat there for the longest forty five minutes of my recent life. Fortunately I eventually became distracted by an excellent hand massage, but it was too late. The image is permanently imprinted on my brain. If I discover that I am just being prudish, I promise to mend my ways.

I had another experience today that I would rather not have had. It is of a more somber nature so please realize my sympathy and compassion did outweigh my discomfort, but none-the-less, it was...awkward.

My friend Amanda and I were coming back from delivering Thrive lunches in Korail and had just entered Gulshan Circle. It is a giant roundabout. If you are British or in any other way acquainted with roundabouts, just thing if it as a living entity and in this case, think of it as a living entity high on meth, that is Gulshan Circle.

Amanda and I were sitting in the back seat having a pleasant conversation when I heard a tap on the window. This is not uncommon as beggars regularly weave in and out of traffic attempting to solicit donations. I tried to ignored the sound but the tapping persisted. Finally, I relented and turned towards the window only to find myself yet again, staring at someones privates. Briefly overcome, I just stared in silence. Fortunately, on this occasion it was only a full length photograph of a teenage boy! The distinguishing characteristic of this poor boy was abnormally enormous testicles. Really enormous! 

I looked up from the disturbing image and met with the face of a woman who I realized to my horror, was standing next to the very boy in the picture. she was insistently pointing from the boy to the picture and then down to the boys...jeans, indicating that he was, in fact, that boy. I felt a tidal wave of empathy for the boy whom I'm certain was in far worse distress than I was both mentally and physically. Unfortunately traffic was chaotic and the circle filled with beggars. When it's like that, opening your window to give money is an open invitation to a riot so I did not feel comfortable giving them anything. I will look for him in future and try to give him some money and hope that they spend it on medical assistance.

I do not mention his story as an opportunity to mock, but truly, I would be happy if I don't see anyone else's business for quite some time!

I promise you that I am not trying to be indelicate but two days in a row!? I'm just a little traumatized and writing is my therapy. With that, I leave you for now. I need to scrub sand in my eyes.