No pirates but still awesome...

Is it just me, or does the very thought of cities like Bangkok bring to mind adventure and intrigue? Probably pirates. I’m certain there could be pirates.

Based on this possibly erroneous preconceived notion, it was with no small amount of awe (and the tiniest bit of disappointment) that we exited the Suvarnabhumi Airport and discovered a gleaming and modern city sprawled out before us. There wasn’t a single junket anywhere in sight.

Bangkok sunset

There was, however, a rather long queue for the taxi even though it was 11:30 at night. Eventually we were told to go to taxi number 34, a pretty exciting hot pink little number. As we approached, the driver jumped out of the car and hustled around to the back to load our bags. I was a little nervous about this as our bags appeared to be roughly the same size as the car but in a couple of minutes he had managed to wedge everything but us into the tiny taxi.

Does anyone else think this building
looks like something in pixels?

Derek instructed him to take us to the Courtyard Marriott. He stared at us, blinking. Derek repeated himself. “Courtyard Marriott? You know how?” He slowly nodded yes and I recognized the expression on his face immediately. Translated, the look said, “I have no idea where you are talking about but I’m going to try and take you anyway because I want the fare”.

Derek is nicer than I am. He pulled out his phone and started to GPS the location. Call me hyper critical, but if an airport taxi driver doesn’t know where an international hotel is, then I’m going to assume he is really a kidnapper planning on selling us into slavery. I might have been overreacting, but it was late and I was tired and hungry. The only thing we were given on the airplane was a packet of crackers that turned out to have way too much Wasabi in them.

I had already started pulling our luggage out of the car in an effort to save our lives when the driver in the taxi next to us explained to our driver, in Thai, how to get there and Derek buckled under a weight of niceness that was a burden I no longer carried.

I’ll just say that in the end, we did finally make it back to our hotel, but I’m still convinced the driver had more nefarious plans for us.

The hotel was beautiful, the staff courteous, the room comfortable, but I was still hungry and apparently room service was available every day of the year, 24 hours a day…except for that particular night. We asked the clerk where we could find food and she cheerfully directed us to the McDonalds around the corner. My vision of an exotic and romantic Thailand drifted further from my view. Desperation does funny things to you. I don’t even eat at McDonalds in America, but I needed food so we got directions and headed off. Derek seemed rather happier about McDonalds than I was.

The first thing I noticed was the number of shrines. They were everywhere. Big ones, little ones, all beautiful. The second thing I noticed was the number of rats. They were everywhere too. One of them tried to take my camera. They would have seemed right at home in my previous vision of a tawdry backwater sea port with Junkets docked in the bay, but they seems oddly out of place next to the beautiful, modern buildings.

McDonalds at least, met my expectations exactly. There was something almost comforting about the sameness of it. Derek seemed pretty pleased to have one last shot at a Big Mac before heading back to Dhaka and ate heartily, and after a fish sandwich (I won’t even eat their hamburgers in America) I was feeling much better so we headed back to our hotel where we eventually fell asleep (we were still on US time).

The morning dawned…late. We slept in, still confused about what time zone and country we were in. I woke up before Derek and headed to the pool for a morning swim. It was a beautiful infinity pool surrounded by sky scrapers. A little roof top paradise with soft Asian sounding music floating across the water.

After my swim, we dressed and headed to the hotel restaurant where we were told there would be a lovely breakfast buffet, and indeed there was! Everything looked delicious and we tucked in, only…we had waited a bit too late and as we started eating, contemplating what we might choose next, they started clearing up. At least we did get to eat. I highly recommend trying the lemongrass juice. I know, right? Sounds awful, but it was really good.

And then we were off! Time to be adventurous. 

By adventurous, I don’t mean see the sights of the city, I mean try to figure out the metro train system. Fortunately we’ve been on the Metro in a lot of cities and managed to figure it out pretty easily. We got the right train the very first try (that doesn’t always happen) and headed for the Chao Phraya River.

Once we arrived at our station, we headed for the water front to catch a ferry. I loved it out on the river! This was the adventure I had been looking for! There could still be pirates!

Looking into the murky water, I could tell that it was about as clean as the Buraganges in Dhaka and determined it would be best NOT to fall in.

It was a beautiful ride. Tall, modern buildings filled the skyline, while next to the water stately hotels sat side by side next to tin buildings on wooden legs that reached down into the river.

A public temple. You make a donation and take tiny
squares of gold leaf and rub them on buddha.

We docked at what was clearly a tourist area. Shops were filled with every souvenir imaginable. I wanted to buy everything. Derek said no.

He managed to get me safely out of the shops without any damage to our bank account and we headed to the temple of the reclining Buddha, Wat Phra Chetuphon Vimolmangklararm Rajwaramahaviharn. You can certainly understand why they just call it Wat Pho.

It was impressive to say the least. The temples were beautiful. Burial monuments were sprinkled everywhere and there were over a thousand Buddha on the grounds.

Derek, clever as always, hired a guide for 300 bhat and we had a great tour. As much as I was enjoying it…jet lag was getting the better of me, so our guide, who, by the way, introduced himself as James Bond, suggested we go on a boat tour that a friend of his ran. The thought of not being on my feet appealed to me so much that I hastily agreed before Derek had a chance to mention that this might be yet another plot to sell us into slavery. I’m not really convinced there is a high demand for out of shape, middle aged American slaves.

Off we went to our next adventure. I loved it. We were taken on a long narrow boat through the canals of Bangkok. I was fascinated by the houses along the canals. Some shabby but still bursting with texture and color and character, others beautifully manicured. I thought my head would explode with excitement when Derek pointed to a huge green Komodo Dragon…or monitor…I’m not sure, but it was big and very cool. And I snapped merrily away, reveling in my picture taking.

Baby Godzilla

The boat was a noisy one and I realized that it sounded just like the boats on the Jungle Cruise at Disneyland. Come to think of it, the whole thing was so perfectly picturesque that it could have been staged by Disney. Every inch was bursting with ambiance and character. I was in Heaven.

Why yes, he IS sailing a bathtub.

 

Love the crane!

Then I thought about it and realized that this was pretty much the same as someone taking people on a tour of the back alleys of Detroit. I mean really, that’s what the canals were. Alleys. Still, it worked for me and we had a wonderful time, but we were exhausted and it was time to head back to the hotel. We entered the hotel room around 4:00. I hit the bed and didn’t wake up again until the next morning.

Fortunately, we woke early enough to really enjoy the hotels buffet, then headed off once again. Todays destination was The Grand Palace. The palace has been the official residence of the Kings of Siam (and later Thailand) since 1782. It’s big and it’s impressive, but…

The Grand Palace

Beautiful painted walls

Now, I’m not saying you shouldn’t bother to go if you are ever in Bangkok, I’m just saying it was singularly lacking in peace and serenity. It was indeed beautiful, what you could see of it as people pushed and shoved each other through the thronging masses. Derek practically had to use his own body as a human shield to keep me from getting trampled. We stayed long enough to get all the obligatory pictures and then headed home to spend the rest of the afternoon by the pool; a fair trade if you ask me.

The boat trip back to the metro was madness. A psychotic boat attendant kept yelling “Get down there! Get down there! In a singsong accent as she herded us to the back side of the boat. I suspect she was swearing a lot, but it was in Thai so I couldn’t tell. I could see the headlines in my mind. “Overcrowded Thai water taxi sinks, tourists turned into mutants by toxic river water”.

I think I will just leave the pictures to speak for the beauty of The Grand Temple and remind readers not to get any illusions about the place. I’m really good at getting shots that DON’T show the thousands of people that were there.

I had assumed that our last day there would be a bust since we were flying back to Dhaka that evening and I was still a little disgruntled about the fiasco at the Grand Temple, but true to form Derek road to the rescue on his glistening white horse and declared that we were heading to the floating markets for the day. He talked to the hotel concierge and paid an obscene amount of money to have a taxi driver take us to the market an hour away from the city, wait for us there and take us back. The drive itself was fascinating as we headed away from the city hub and out into the country where there were salt fields and coconut groves.

We arrived at the floating market having no idea what to expect. Once we had paid our entrance, we were directed to another long, narrow boat with a noisy outboard. It seemed that we had stumbled upon the real life jungle cruise as we navigated coconut tree lined canals. There was a cool breeze and crystal blue sky. The day could not have been more perfect.

Eventually we came upon an open front wooden structure on stilts next to the river, loaded with souvenirs and crafts. A pretty young woman reached towards us, flourishing her hand towards her wares. We said no thank you and our boat driver moved away from the bank, heading towards what we could see now, was a long canal lined on both sides with little shops just like the first one. One had beautiful paintings that a young man claimed he had done, but the fact that the same exact paintings appeared in ten other stalls made me suspect he might have been exaggerating. 

The further we went the more congested the river became and the more exciting the scene. I was in love. There was chaos everywhere. Now there were boats with people shopping, bumping up next to boats with colorful vendors selling their wares. Screw Disney, this was way better.

I bought a coconut husk full of fresh coconut water with a straw stuck in it. It was cold and delicious. Further on we found another boat with more coconut husks only these were filled with coconut ice cream covered in coconut shavings with a cherry on top, and a tiny paper umbrella and bright pink flower sticking out of the top. I’m pretty certain it was the best ice cream I’ve ever had.

Beautiful linen shirts lined one stall, while carved wooden lamps filled another. For some odd reason a number of the stalls were selling ambitiously sized, carved wooden phallic statues. Another boat was filled with colorful and exotic spices. I bought a big bag of saffron for about $8.00. I can’t even fathom what it would have cost in the U.S.

Derek kept glancing at me with a smile on his face. I was in my element; practically euphoric. There was chaos in the water. People yelling across the water, vendors cajoling tourists into buying. This was the Thailand I had envisioned (without the pirates).

We spent at least an hour floating through the crowded market. There was a festive air about the place and it will forever remain one of my favorite experiences in Thailand.

To cap off the morning, we took a half hour elephant ride. I’m not gonna lie. It was just a little cheesy. One of these little theme parks that you found in the states back in the 50’s, but it was still fun and I adored Derek for rescuing the day and making it so memorable.

The trip back to the hotel was peaceful and relaxing as we recapped our morning, laughing over this and exclaiming about that.

Finally, it was time to head to the airport. There was a brief moment of excitement when a Chinese man suddenly starting shouting angrily in the immigration line. These days people get a little skittish around loud angry noises in airports and it took everyone a few minutes to relax after that. The flight home was blissfully short and we made our way back to our apartment about 1:00 am.

There might not have been any junkets or pirates, but Bangkok was still a beautiful adventure that I hope to repeat someday.

The Littlest Sacrament Meeting

I am a Mormon. Oddly enough, it turns out there aren't a lot of Mormons in Bangladesh. In fact, in a country of 200 million people, there is one branch (congregation) and it is here in Dhaka. It took a little time when we first arrived in Bangladesh, but we found that little branch and we attended it. 

If you drive across town to a crowded market area in Farmgate and park at the end of a particular narrow, dirty road lined with tiny shops and walk down a couple of blocks, then turn left just after you pass the man butchering a cow and walk down an even narrower road and follow it until it dead ends, you will find a battered looking concrete apartment building on your right. Once you go inside the garage, you will find stairs with a surprisingly fancy stainless steel bannister. If you are still determined, you will climb six tall flights of very uneven stairs (there is no elevator) and at the very top you will find a small landing. On Friday morning that landing is filled with shoes, because we get to go barefoot at church here. It's one of the perks. Once inside, you'll find a room with dingy walls covered with tattered pictures of Christ and several people with beautiful, smiling faces. These beautiful and faithful members speak varying degrees of English but they speak smiles best. They are warm and welcoming and for many months we would journey there each Friday morning for church. Friday? You might as

Derek and his counselors w/
the India Mission President and his wife

A few of the members.

Our baptismal font on the roof

Because mosque is held on Friday, all churches observe church on Friday. Our work week is Sunday through Thursday. Anyway, ever Friday we would go and meet with our tiny branch. Some weeks there were maybe ten of us and other times up to thirty. Our meetings are very different from those we held in our large meeting house in the Midwest, but one thing was always the same; a coming together of people who share the same beliefs. An opportunity to perform ordinances that were important to us, like taking the sacrament as a renewal of our baptismal covenants.

My husband, Derek is the Branch President (Ecclesiastical leader) of this little group. I smile when I think about how much love I see in him towards the members and how much we have come to enjoy spending time with them but this post isn't about that wonderful little apartment. That, it turns out, was not the littlest sacrament meeting.

Because of the threat of terrorism that we are currently under, we are no longer allowed to meet with the local members in the little "church" in Farmgate. Derek continues to run the affairs of the branch from our home. Members come to visit with him here and he holds his presidency meetings here as well. The Mormon church is a church of order sprinkled liberally with love and compassion, so he meets with his presidency and they discuss the needs of the members, no matter how few our numbers are. For now, the western members of the branch meet separately, in our home. It changes frequently, but generally speaking. there are eight of us, including three children.

As you can image, a family going on vacation can dramatically reduce our numbers. Today the family with three kids are out of the country on vacation, and the guy who is here alone while his wife and daughter are in the states for maternity leave was working, so that left Derek and I.

Today, I saw Derek being the best Branch President I have ever known. Today we got up and showered and dressed. Derek put on his suit and tie and I put on a dress and we tidied and prepared for church. I played prelude music as Derek sat reverently. We sang an opening song and had an opening prayer. Then we sang a sacrament song and Derek performed the task of blessing and passing the sacrament. Chumleigh would have liked to participate, but he's not old enough. However, he was very reverent. After the sacrament, we watched a conference talk online, had a closing song and a closing prayer and then made blueberry pancakes for brunch.

A sacrament table for two

Why, you might ask, do we bother? Because it matters. It matters to us, and it matters to the Lord. It would be so easy here to take a vacation from religion. It would be so easy to say that as long as we believe in God we don't need religion. I'm not suggesting that you are wrong if that is how you feel. I'm just saying that I need the strength of those rituals, the renewal of our covenants, to keep centered in a chaotic world.I miss our big buildings and seeing all of the members come together to share their believes and to draw strength from one another, but even when those are not a possibility, I need to take that brief space of time each week to draw away from the problems of the world and draw closer to the savior. 

It's hard for a sacrament meeting to get smaller than two people and you might think it a silly thing, but my heart was filled as Derek reverently performed those priesthood ordinances for just two of us, because those are important ordinances for each of us even if no one else is there.

So like I said, I am a Mormon. Other people can believe however they choose, but I highly recommend that whatever you believe in, believe in it all the way, even when no one else is around and even when it's not popular or convenient. 

A New and Different Dhaka

It’s been a while since I’ve written in my blog. The truth is, circumstances of our life here in Dhaka have changed drastically and because of it, I felt that I didn’t have anything to say, but it just turns out that I have something different to write about.

I’ve already posted some thoughts on Facebook about this, but I still felt the need to put this somewhere more permanent. To show the people who aren’t here how resilient we can be.

Bangladesh is a predominantly Muslim country, but unlike what most Americans have come to believe, not all Muslims are the same. You wouldn’t condemn all Baptists because The Westborough Baptist Church exists would you?

I’ve written about my Muslim friends before and I stand by everything I have said. Bangladesh has enjoyed relative peace in their religion being more moderate Muslims. They have stayed off the radar so to speak but recently things have changed. ISIL has reared its ugly head and made a stand; first against the presence of western non-believers within Bangladesh’s borders and then against other Muslims who do not share their violent beliefs.

On September 28^th an Italian was murdered in cold blood on the street walking home from the gym. A week later a Japanese man was killed several miles from Dhaka in the same manner. The choice of victims was apparently random. You know what the really bad thing about random killings is? Everyone is a target. ISIL claimed responsibility for the murders. If you are confused by the term ISIL vs. ISIS, don’t be. It’s all semantics and politics. They are one and the same.

ISIL upped their game a short time later when they bombed a Shiite Muslim celebration, killing a teenage boy and injuring at least 80 more people. Even other Muslims are not safe from ISIL’s attempt at domination, but I’m not here to argue politics. I’m here to tell you that terrorism has changed our lives.

For months I’ve been blissfully wandering the streets of Dhaka taking it all in. The colors, the noise, the crowds. I am energized by its chaos and while I know that Bangladesh has a lot of growing to do, I have come to love it. I reveled in hauling tubs of food through the slums to deliver to school children there. We explored the rivers and the countryside and I adopted this slightly broken country with an open heart.

Then with the pull of a trigger, life as we have known if ceased for embassy personnel and other expats around Dhaka. As surely as if each of us had been hit by those bullets, our freedom to explore our host country and lead normal lives died with the last breath of an Italian project manager named Cesare Tavella.

Embassies were forced to restrict the movements of those they are here to protect. Virtually every activity that I have loved has been taken away.

Embassy families are forced to stay indoors, rickshaws sit unused on the streets, the drivers losing money each day that expats are not allowed to roam the streets in anything but their vehicles.

There has been an evolution. The original restrictions were suffocatingly strict. In the beginning we were only allowed to travel to very limited locations and only by armored car. Eventually we could travel in our private vehicles but still only to limited locations. Restrictions have relaxed slightly as time has passed, but I am still banned from my beloved slum schools.

The reality exists.The face of terrorism is random and unruly. Everyone is a victim.

What matters now though, is the incredible strength that has been displayed by our community and that is what I cling to and revel in. In the face of sending children to school on buses with armed police, having others run our errands for us and asking local shop keepers to bring their wares to us, we have rallied to support each other. The ambassador and her staff have shown tremendous empathy while still having to make tough decisions in order to protect us.

The community liaison office has worked tirelessly to provide activities to bring us together and let us get outside of our own heads and our worries for a little while. We have developed a sense of community stronger than I have seen almost anywhere. 

I have seen our community rise above this as they open their homes to each other. The fun part is the creativity. Enticing stores to bring their goods with them, we have shopping parties. A local artist came and taught us paper mache art. We've had story time at the American Club. People are holding all kinds of interesting get togethers.

  Apartment buildings organized trick or treating within the building. People gather for game nights and movie nights. Anything to bring a sense of normality to our lives. Even the ambassador has joined in for many of the activities and her support has made a huge impact.

We don’t know what will happen next. We will continue to make life feel as normal as possible, but living under the constant threat of terrorism is not normal. We refer to where we are now as the “New Normal”.

My take away from all of this is that people are just cool. When faced with trials these people that I am proud to call friends have become their best selves and I am proud to be one of them.