The Title of this post may give some idea of what I did today. Yes, to get to the school at Binpara I had to roll up my pants, take off my sandals, and wade through the water. As you may guess this is a result of the flooding, but not necessarily bad flooding. As the book I am reading now entitled Reflections on Water points out, the floods in Bangladesh are what drives the rice production to such great quantities. It is the floods which bring the silt and sand and drive much of Bangladesh's economy. And so, I thought of the beauty of the floods, as I let the silt and sand squish between my toes as I crossed the field, wading through the water.
And now it is easy to talk about the floods in Mymensingh area, as the water is dropping at least a foot every day. It is almost unimagineable how quickly the water level drops. I am amazed each time I walk to Taize, twice a day, the water has always dropped a little more. What once, only a week ago was under water, is now dryland and the water is a full 2 feet below that level. As I watch this process I realize, this is God at work, this is nature at its finest. The change of the seasons, the rise and fall of the tides, what wonderful gifts the waters of life are.
Shantite. (In Peace in Bengali)
Steve.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
The Beauty of the Land
I have often mentioned the poverty, the suffering, and the hurt I see here in Bangladesh. And all too often that is a reality I am faced with. But, as a great beacon of light shining through the dark clouds, the beauty of this country so often shines past the pain. Today, I visited a school across the Bramaputra River at Binpara. We were once again presenting the peace puppet show, and engaging the children in discussion. But today, it was the beauty of the Bangladeshi countryside which swept me away. There I was, bouncing haphazardly along a dusty path on the back of what appears to be an oversized, flatbed, tricycle. The van-gari is a common mode of transportation in Bangladeshi villages. And slowly passing by, a thousand shades of green, each one as vibrant as the colours on the sari's worn by the women working in the fields. These fields, are in fact rice paddies, each one a perfect square, and each square uniform in size, with the rice shoots jutting skyward, jutting towards that great blue expanse dotted with billowing clouds. The sky itself was a sight to behold, for as many colours of green as there were on the ground, the sky held as many shades of blue. Not the dull blue of the summer sky at home, but a vibrant blue, a Bangladeshi blue. The contrast of field and sky, meeting on the horizon, with the rise and fall of the palm trees, the mango trees and the banana trees, all reaching heavenward, creating an umbrella of shade for the small huts they protect. This sight, this beauty, these colours, are the beauty of Bangladesh. For as many challenges as Bangladesh faces, I shall never forget its beauty, and it is that beauty which I hope reminds us all that nowhere is without hope, nowhere is beyond the sunshine, and beauty resides wherever we search for it.
In Peace.
Steve.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Language Breakthrough
Today I have a fun item to report. Having only finished a little more than half of my language study, I am now officially able to understand and converse in Bengali. As I say this, I must note that I still struggle and often forget words numerous times before finally having them stick. But now that I can converse in Bengali, the speed of my learning seems to be rapidly increasing each day. This is the excitement for the day.
Peace.
Steve.
Peace.
Steve.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Breakfast Anyone?
The month of Ramadan, in the Muslim calendar is a month of fasting. What does this mean for me, a Christian, in this setting. Well each morning, my neighbours rise at 4am to begin cooking their breakfast. They eat before sunrise at 6 when an announcement is made to start the fasting. Then, there is no eating or drinking, even water, until Iftar (the breaking of the fast) at sundown. Twelve hours, everyday people fast. And at Iftar people buy treats and snacks and pay more than normal to make a wonderful meal to break the fast, and they invite anyone passing by to break the fast with them. What a wonderful show of hospitality. And for those people not observing the fast, all shops with food put drapes or curtains in front of them so that people observing the fast do not look at those people who are eating. For muslims, this time is meant to be a time of prayer, and is a very important time in the year for muslims. I am glad to begin to understand what this means.
Peace.
Steve.
Peace.
Steve.
Knee Deep in Water
Yesterday, Matt and I went to Bolajpur to take pictures of a flooded area of Mymensingh. This area is where we did the puppet show last Thursday and there are many areas of this slum underwater. We never expected the excitement that two skinny white boys from Canada with cameras would engender, although in retrospect it is no surprise.
After taking a few pictures of houses up to 6 feet under water, we were approached by an older man, shirtless and so skinny his ribs protruded like knives from his sides, with tousled hair, a stereotypical blue plaid longhi (cotton tube skirt) and a little half smile. This man, whose name I still cannot manage to reproduce, beckoned us to follow him, down the dirt path, over a porch, directly to the river's edge. "Okhane" (There), he said as he pointed to the middle of the river. "Ota apnar bari?" (Is that your house), I asked politely, full well knowing that it was. He replied and after a few more awkward questions I ascertained that this house of his, stranded like a twig in the middle of the stream, stuck under 4 feet of water, was flooded every year. And so after taking a few pictures I asked him about his family, and off we went, up the balcony and down the other side. There, under a corrugated iron roof, protected by only three walls, was his family. There were at least 10 of them there, with no protection. Babies, children and elderly, all packed in for a shot of their living quarters, they were so excited and happy for us to be there, us Bideshis with our camera. Knowing that their story will be told far from their home, that their pictures will be shared with rich, white people in North America.
As we were preparing to leave, I asked another man, Rubel, about the school in the area. The one I knew was underwater. And he said very kindly that he would take me there. But first, out of his hospitality, he offered us tea and showed us his house. His small one room house, in a line of houses, all the same. In this room slept at least 5 people, with only one bed. Hist little corrugated iron abode was identical to the other houses in this slum. Obviously built all at once the buildings had the distinct appearance of barracks, long metal buildings with many doors, all lined up parallel with long dirt paths running down between them. We were then taken to the school, I was asked to introduce myself and we took a few more pictures before leaving.
This was meant to be a short, quick look at one of the flood affected areas of Mymensingh, but it became a display of hospitality and care from people who, despite their poverty, live with joy and happiness in this wonderful country of Bangladesh.
In peace.
Steve.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Violence des Pacifiques
Title: Violence of the Pacifists
Written: September 15, 2007
I have finished reading an influential book written by frere Roger of Taize called Violence des pacifiques. This book calls for a search for a third path between passivity and destructive violence, one he calls violent pacifism. In my search for a personal understanding of pacifism as it relates to my life and my place in the world; I would like to share some reflections on this book.
I long for peace, and in this I am not unique, for all people want peace. What I also want is harmony and justice for all people. As I look around this country (Bangladesh) with talk of corruption and poverty, I realize that I must start to look for the third way; a violent pacifism. This term is seemingly contradictory, but I begin to reconcile the term in that people who willingly hurt and depricate the lives of others are violent and passivity does nothing but condone that violence. The pacifist looks not to use destructive violence but creative violence(1) to solve this dilemma. The goal of the pacifist must be one of cohesiveness and unity, not of divisiveness and hate. If the pacifist can find a mechanism of creative violence which is necessary to build an enriching and cohesive community, one which does not destroy or divide the people, but brings them together; then the use of that creative violence signifies a violent pacifist.
To clarify, this violence should, in my mind, never lead to murder or killing of another. This destructive violence cannot bring unity, it can only bring divisiveness, anger and revenge. Therefore, it must be the goal of the pacifist to actively engage society in search of constructive, creative solutions to problems otherwise solved with destructive violence. Pacifists must "love their neighbours"(2), in such a way that they seek mechanisms of destroying barriers of hate between neighbours and building, through preferably non-violent, but occasionally creatively violent mechanisms, a peaceful, welcoming environment for their neighbours everywhere.
I have intentionally avoided the use of specific solutions to the challenges of being a violent pacifist. I am by no means successful in this endeavor to bring people together in peace, often I am passive or destructive. In fact I struggle here daily in my attempt to understand what pacifism means in the face of such extreme poverty, structural violence and loss. But the exciting aspect of being a creative pacifist is that it is a lifelong challenge, each situation is a new opportunity to be creative and look for a new solution to bring people together.
As a pacifist, this is my challenge.
Peace.
Steve.
Footnotes:
(1) f. Roger, Violence des pacifiques, Presses de Taize, 1968.
(2) Matthew 19:19, NIV Bible.
Written: September 15, 2007
I have finished reading an influential book written by frere Roger of Taize called Violence des pacifiques. This book calls for a search for a third path between passivity and destructive violence, one he calls violent pacifism. In my search for a personal understanding of pacifism as it relates to my life and my place in the world; I would like to share some reflections on this book.
I long for peace, and in this I am not unique, for all people want peace. What I also want is harmony and justice for all people. As I look around this country (Bangladesh) with talk of corruption and poverty, I realize that I must start to look for the third way; a violent pacifism. This term is seemingly contradictory, but I begin to reconcile the term in that people who willingly hurt and depricate the lives of others are violent and passivity does nothing but condone that violence. The pacifist looks not to use destructive violence but creative violence(1) to solve this dilemma. The goal of the pacifist must be one of cohesiveness and unity, not of divisiveness and hate. If the pacifist can find a mechanism of creative violence which is necessary to build an enriching and cohesive community, one which does not destroy or divide the people, but brings them together; then the use of that creative violence signifies a violent pacifist.
To clarify, this violence should, in my mind, never lead to murder or killing of another. This destructive violence cannot bring unity, it can only bring divisiveness, anger and revenge. Therefore, it must be the goal of the pacifist to actively engage society in search of constructive, creative solutions to problems otherwise solved with destructive violence. Pacifists must "love their neighbours"(2), in such a way that they seek mechanisms of destroying barriers of hate between neighbours and building, through preferably non-violent, but occasionally creatively violent mechanisms, a peaceful, welcoming environment for their neighbours everywhere.
I have intentionally avoided the use of specific solutions to the challenges of being a violent pacifist. I am by no means successful in this endeavor to bring people together in peace, often I am passive or destructive. In fact I struggle here daily in my attempt to understand what pacifism means in the face of such extreme poverty, structural violence and loss. But the exciting aspect of being a creative pacifist is that it is a lifelong challenge, each situation is a new opportunity to be creative and look for a new solution to bring people together.
As a pacifist, this is my challenge.
Peace.
Steve.
Footnotes:
(1) f. Roger, Violence des pacifiques, Presses de Taize, 1968.
(2) Matthew 19:19, NIV Bible.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Prayer Requests
This entry involves one simple request, a request for prayer, in whatever form that takes. There are two items I would like you, my friends, to pray for. Primarily, pray for the people of Bangladesh and keep them in your minds as we wait and see how these continuing rains will effect the country. Pray for safety from the flooding, for food, and for strength to endure the challenges of the approaching year. And pray for respite from the continuing rain threatening to flood many areas of the country, possibly for months. Secondly, pray for my tutor Hilton who is quite ill at the moment. He has some combination of kidney, blood and appendix illnesses, and everyone is quite worried about him. He has spent a night in the hospital and has been in bed ever since. His mother is now also exhausted and they recently had flooding in their house. So I implore you, my friends to keep these two concerns in mind over the coming days.
If anyone is so inclined, financial support for food aid directed towards flood victims in Bangladesh would me most welcome. Each day as I stroll the river bank after lunch I notice a slight rise in the river height and watch as more of people's houses sink below the rising water. And to note that Mymensingh is not an area prone to flooding, I can only imagine what some areas of Bangladesh look like. After the great loss this country is experiencing, any donation will make a huge difference.
Thank you.
Peace.
Steve.
If anyone is so inclined, financial support for food aid directed towards flood victims in Bangladesh would me most welcome. Each day as I stroll the river bank after lunch I notice a slight rise in the river height and watch as more of people's houses sink below the rising water. And to note that Mymensingh is not an area prone to flooding, I can only imagine what some areas of Bangladesh look like. After the great loss this country is experiencing, any donation will make a huge difference.
Thank you.
Peace.
Steve.
A Traditional Curry
Written: September 12, 2007
Warning: Entry makes reference to harming of animals.
Tonight I learned how to make a traditional Bangladeshi chicken curry. I will not detail the spices as that is for my return whe I shall happily oblige to prepare occasional Bangladeshi meals. In Bangladesh, chicken curry requires purchasing a chicken, an expensive feat for very scarce meat. Then, sparing details, the chicken was killed and we returned to the house to prepare the chicken. We plucked and cleaned the bird in Supar's house and then two curries were prepared. First, a chicken and potato curry and second, a traditional curry. The chicken curry contained the chicken meat and potatoes, while the traditional curry contained salt, water, ginger and the remaining parts of the chicken. Both curries were a wonderful treat, and seeing the preparation of the meal was a new experience for me; so my best regards go out to Supar for tonights traditional curry.
In Peace.
Steve.
Warning: Entry makes reference to harming of animals.
Tonight I learned how to make a traditional Bangladeshi chicken curry. I will not detail the spices as that is for my return whe I shall happily oblige to prepare occasional Bangladeshi meals. In Bangladesh, chicken curry requires purchasing a chicken, an expensive feat for very scarce meat. Then, sparing details, the chicken was killed and we returned to the house to prepare the chicken. We plucked and cleaned the bird in Supar's house and then two curries were prepared. First, a chicken and potato curry and second, a traditional curry. The chicken curry contained the chicken meat and potatoes, while the traditional curry contained salt, water, ginger and the remaining parts of the chicken. Both curries were a wonderful treat, and seeing the preparation of the meal was a new experience for me; so my best regards go out to Supar for tonights traditional curry.
In Peace.
Steve.
Aro bhat lagbe?
Title: Would you like to have more rice?
Written: September 11, 2007
This evening at dinner, the words of my Bengali teacher Ms. Naht came to life. This morning, after buying a few vegetables, she explained the effects of flooding in Bangladesh and how it was increasing the price of food. Bangladesh is experiencing its second round of floods. In the last two months Bangladesh has been inundated twice and many farmers have now lost their second round of crops. The effects of this seem to have spread to my dinner table tonight.
I will place my description of dinner in context. Dinner at Taize is always simple, bhat ar shobji (rice and vegetables), and only one plate per person. Today I observed a noticeable decrease in the amount of rice as I passed the warm metal plates around the circle of boys, all laughing and joking together. When I received my plate, after attempting to pass it on as a result of my inattention, I gazed at my plate and noted something shocking. Today, curry consisted of only potatoes (alu tarkuri) and I realized that I could count on my fingers, the number of small potato pieces on my plate. My meal tonight was small, not at all balanced and yet I appreciated every single piece of rice on that plate, so much more than I ever would have in Canada.
In reflecting on this experience I wish to note a few realizations I had. The most powerful realization I had today, and this likely will sound odd, is that malnutrition and famine can remain entirely hidden from wealthy individuals around the world. At the moment in Bangladesh there is still food, for those who can afford it. But prices are climbing and as fears of flooding grow, so do fears of being unable to afford good food. The world will always have food for the wealthy; those who can import whatever it is that they need. Already, vegetables are expensive enough that at Taize they cannot afford enough vegetables to eat a balanced diet every day, never mind the lack of protein. I feel fully blessed not to be excluded from this position because of my "white privilege". Which brings me to my second thought, that my "white privilege" means that any time I am not getting a proper balanced diet I can go eat at a restaurant or buy vitamin supplements. It is my wealthy, white privilege which allows this. And there I face a challenging reality, I am playing the "white privilege" card in this game of life, in order to ensure I stay healthy when millions of people around the world and in this very country, cannot afford enough rice to feed their families. My final realization is also very obvious, food shortage can strike quickly and has to do with both what people are eating as well has how much. If prices inflate so rapidly that all people are eating is rice, they will not get the nutrition they require. This has been noted in the newspapers as a reality already now in some areas, and if the flooding increases and is prolonged, this reality could become even more pronounced.
End note: In this piece I have referred to the word famine. This word is not descriptive of the current situation for most people in Bangladesh. I use the word not in a scientific, nor a political manner, but as the most descriptive term I can use in an attempt to describe my experiences.
In Peace.
Steve.
Written: September 11, 2007
This evening at dinner, the words of my Bengali teacher Ms. Naht came to life. This morning, after buying a few vegetables, she explained the effects of flooding in Bangladesh and how it was increasing the price of food. Bangladesh is experiencing its second round of floods. In the last two months Bangladesh has been inundated twice and many farmers have now lost their second round of crops. The effects of this seem to have spread to my dinner table tonight.
I will place my description of dinner in context. Dinner at Taize is always simple, bhat ar shobji (rice and vegetables), and only one plate per person. Today I observed a noticeable decrease in the amount of rice as I passed the warm metal plates around the circle of boys, all laughing and joking together. When I received my plate, after attempting to pass it on as a result of my inattention, I gazed at my plate and noted something shocking. Today, curry consisted of only potatoes (alu tarkuri) and I realized that I could count on my fingers, the number of small potato pieces on my plate. My meal tonight was small, not at all balanced and yet I appreciated every single piece of rice on that plate, so much more than I ever would have in Canada.
In reflecting on this experience I wish to note a few realizations I had. The most powerful realization I had today, and this likely will sound odd, is that malnutrition and famine can remain entirely hidden from wealthy individuals around the world. At the moment in Bangladesh there is still food, for those who can afford it. But prices are climbing and as fears of flooding grow, so do fears of being unable to afford good food. The world will always have food for the wealthy; those who can import whatever it is that they need. Already, vegetables are expensive enough that at Taize they cannot afford enough vegetables to eat a balanced diet every day, never mind the lack of protein. I feel fully blessed not to be excluded from this position because of my "white privilege". Which brings me to my second thought, that my "white privilege" means that any time I am not getting a proper balanced diet I can go eat at a restaurant or buy vitamin supplements. It is my wealthy, white privilege which allows this. And there I face a challenging reality, I am playing the "white privilege" card in this game of life, in order to ensure I stay healthy when millions of people around the world and in this very country, cannot afford enough rice to feed their families. My final realization is also very obvious, food shortage can strike quickly and has to do with both what people are eating as well has how much. If prices inflate so rapidly that all people are eating is rice, they will not get the nutrition they require. This has been noted in the newspapers as a reality already now in some areas, and if the flooding increases and is prolonged, this reality could become even more pronounced.
End note: In this piece I have referred to the word famine. This word is not descriptive of the current situation for most people in Bangladesh. I use the word not in a scientific, nor a political manner, but as the most descriptive term I can use in an attempt to describe my experiences.
In Peace.
Steve.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Shared Space
Occasionally metaphors of Bangladesh become glaringly apparent, and one that often comes to mind is a picture of a little stone in a bag of rice. I am that little stone, out of place, in this sea of rice. Everywhere I turn I see rice, not other stones, I see wonderful people all around. I realize increasingly each day that I am not the rice, and I never will be the rice, but I enjoy being with the rice. Sometimes though, the rice all around is suffocating, I long for the open field, I look for a place for myself, and I find that place in prayer.
Here in Bangladesh, people are everywhere, and everyone wants to be my friend. Privacy is in many regards a foreign concept, and everyone knows who you were with and what you were doing. I know this is not my space, it is their space, and I am but a guest in this space; it is a shared space. Together all Bangladeshis and Bideshis, together, share the little physical space available in this country, and though this is a challenge it is also a blessing. It is a lesson in sharing and a lesson in finding peace in the crowded space; and finding peace in the shared space.
Shantite. (Bengali for In Peace)
Steve.
Here in Bangladesh, people are everywhere, and everyone wants to be my friend. Privacy is in many regards a foreign concept, and everyone knows who you were with and what you were doing. I know this is not my space, it is their space, and I am but a guest in this space; it is a shared space. Together all Bangladeshis and Bideshis, together, share the little physical space available in this country, and though this is a challenge it is also a blessing. It is a lesson in sharing and a lesson in finding peace in the crowded space; and finding peace in the shared space.
Shantite. (Bengali for In Peace)
Steve.
Friday, September 7, 2007
East Meets West
Eats meets West, a musical, cultural experience, was a joint concert between British Saxophonist Andrew and Bangladeshi Guitarist and Vocalist Arnob. This fundraiser was held in Gulshan, the most upscale area of Bangladesh, in a posh restaurant decorated with lights on trees, red chair covers and lots of rich individuals. This concert, in support of a hostel for abused women and children led by the Bangladeshi Women Lawyers Association, was a wonderful experience and very different from the poverty of surrounding Dhaka. Arnob, is the son of a Prokritee staff and so we attended this concert to watch him. The music, I would describe as a blend of folk, pop, and modern Western influence, mixed with Bengali vocals. It consisted of many traditional Bengali folk tunes and Arnob songs with a saxophone twist. This experience was one of rich, privileged individuals coming together for a good cause, but a far cry from the simple living of the Taize in Mymensingh. The different faces of this country will be ever appearing.
Paz.
Steve.
Paz.
Steve.
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Running Through Mud
Chuti! Tumi futbol kelo? Tik, ami futbol kelte porchundo kori. (Holiday! Do you want to play soccer? Yes, I love playing soccer) Today was an early morning of intense football (soccer) action. The Taize boys invited me to play with them after morning prayers and breakfast. And down to the field we went, barefoot, sludging through the shin deep mud to the pitch (field). Teams were created and the barefoot game of football began. Slipping, sliding, the ball coming to rest squarely in a puddle of mud as the players all went skidding by, the joy of the international game. It seems that anywhere I go, football is the common game played by young people, and what a game it was. With a final tied score and a phenomenal free kick goal, this mornings football extravaganza could not have ended any better. The joy of learning, making new friends, and running through mud.
Peace.
Steve.
Peace.
Steve.
Monday, September 3, 2007
Living In Water - Glimpses of Poverty
How is peace possible in the face of such iniquity? Today in The Daily Star newspaper it was stated that Sheikh Hasina, previous Prime Minister of Bangladesh was sued for Taka 3 crore graft (30 million Taka), and each and every day, new allegations are brought against business owners and government officials involved in corruption and financial scandals in the country of Bangladesh. This to demonstrate the gross inequality of rich and poor in this nation.
Upon taking the train from Dhaka to Mymensingh, some areas of intense poverty are visible within Dhaka. The living conditions are apalling. Houses (if they can even be called such), are often smaller than the majority of North American camping tents. Haphazardly constructed beside the railway tracks, many of these dwellings are constructed of jute, newspaper, magazines and ripped tarpaulines. They are between 3 and 5 feet tall and many had 4 or 5 people in them, even during the day. Cooking was done outside, and these dwellings, perhaps 4 feet by 6 feet in surface area were packed together like a game of Tetris. The North American joke about "living in a cardboard box" takes on new meaning in this situation where a cardboard box is no bigger or more luxurious than the places these families call home. The larger houses, built of corrugated iron, often bordered small ponds and are prone, each year to flooding and destruction, yet this source of unsafe drinking water is a necessity for these families. Safety is relative in these hellish conditions, as young children and toddlers could often be seen playing on railway tracks as trains come and go. How often, I wonder, must children here unnecessarily die because they have no safe place to play.
As I reflect on this ugly reality I face every day, I wonder what could the solution be? In a place of such extremes, where is love and empathy, and how can I, a lone individual do anything to show love and empathy to these thousands upon thousands of starving, destitute people? I cannot meet each of them, I cannot give them all food, or shelter, sometimes I wonder if the only solution is to pray, and to advocate systematic change, from the smallest, rural village, to the sprawling capital of Dhaka. To know the situation these people face, not by choice, nor by any flaw of character; is to know that change is vital, and that relationships, love and knowledge are they beginnings to a more just, sustainable society, in Bangladesh, in Canada, and globally.
En Paix. (French: In Peace)
Steve.
Upon taking the train from Dhaka to Mymensingh, some areas of intense poverty are visible within Dhaka. The living conditions are apalling. Houses (if they can even be called such), are often smaller than the majority of North American camping tents. Haphazardly constructed beside the railway tracks, many of these dwellings are constructed of jute, newspaper, magazines and ripped tarpaulines. They are between 3 and 5 feet tall and many had 4 or 5 people in them, even during the day. Cooking was done outside, and these dwellings, perhaps 4 feet by 6 feet in surface area were packed together like a game of Tetris. The North American joke about "living in a cardboard box" takes on new meaning in this situation where a cardboard box is no bigger or more luxurious than the places these families call home. The larger houses, built of corrugated iron, often bordered small ponds and are prone, each year to flooding and destruction, yet this source of unsafe drinking water is a necessity for these families. Safety is relative in these hellish conditions, as young children and toddlers could often be seen playing on railway tracks as trains come and go. How often, I wonder, must children here unnecessarily die because they have no safe place to play.
As I reflect on this ugly reality I face every day, I wonder what could the solution be? In a place of such extremes, where is love and empathy, and how can I, a lone individual do anything to show love and empathy to these thousands upon thousands of starving, destitute people? I cannot meet each of them, I cannot give them all food, or shelter, sometimes I wonder if the only solution is to pray, and to advocate systematic change, from the smallest, rural village, to the sprawling capital of Dhaka. To know the situation these people face, not by choice, nor by any flaw of character; is to know that change is vital, and that relationships, love and knowledge are they beginnings to a more just, sustainable society, in Bangladesh, in Canada, and globally.
En Paix. (French: In Peace)
Steve.
Saturday, September 1, 2007
The Noonday Sun
My return to Dhaka for the weekend has been quite the shift from nearly two weeks in Mymensingh. The highspeed internet, expensive coffee shops, expensive CNG's (taxis) and the showers. The heat here is more intense than Mymensingh although most places have air conditioning which makes it bearable. I come here and realize how glad I am to be living in the simplicity of Mymensingh, the ebb and flow of life by the river, ricksha's downtown to buy sandals, fruit and clothing (I had two pairs of pants and two short sleeved shirts tailored). Mymensingh has the peace of Taize prayers and the quiet nights in my room. I am glad for friends here in Bangladesh, for Supar, Hilton, Max, Ashish and Simol. I am glad to be in Mymensingh where English is uncommon and Bengali will be easier to learn. But for this weekend I am spending in Dhaka I am thankful for the people I met. The new country representative's from MCC to Bangladesh Gayle and Larry Alderfer-Fisher and their daughters Fay and Annika are wonderful people and I will be happy to work with them. Ethel and Jerry have been so kind to us and I am excited to plan a Global Families learning tour from North America to Bangladesh in June 2008. There are many challenges ahead this year I know, but I see so many opportunities, only two weeks into this experience to get involved and work with people at something new and exciting. Even working in the Peace program with MCC will be a huge blessing, to be involved in this new and emerging field in the life of MCC Bangladesh. I am excited for this partnership to grow and to learn and be changed for the better.
In Peace.
Steve.
In Peace.
Steve.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)