So I had my first real First Aid adventure of this year. At the parade ground practice a child from one of the Taize schools fainted from heat related symptoms. I quickly sprang into action getting shade and breeze and items to rehydrate when she woke up. I will not go into details, for it is not important. But it suffices to say, that at that moment I was glad for my First Aid training and to be able to help ensure noone did anything rash.
Now for prevention, I thought, probably other children should be given water, all marching on the spot for an hour in the hot sun. But this suggestion went unheeded and less than 5 minutes later, another victim from another one of our schools was brought to the shade unconscious. Finally, water was brought out for those who were thirsty on the field, and after another round of First Aid, I was glad to find that people had listened and were going for prevention rather than First Aid. Hopefully, in other areas of society, in the near future, Bangladeshis will look for ways to prevent accidents rather than responding to them.
Paix.
Steve.
Sunday, December 16, 2007
When Violence Worked
What does the advocate of nonviolent change say? It doesn't work, nonviolent struggle is more powerful than armed conflict? This sounds good, and there are many historical examples of when nonviolent struggle achieved some desired goal, when nonviolence triumphed or violence; but Bangladesh is not one of those places. Gandhi was all well and good for driving away the British, but it was violence, it was mass uprising and guerilla-style warfare which won Bangladesh its independence. And what do you say here, when violence worked?
The problem is two-fold, mass demonstrations were part of what invited a crackdown by the Pakistani army, and once the army was on the loose, they were killing all of the intellectuals, looting and raping at will. And it was in this scenario that mass uprising and insurgency won. The Freedom Fighters overpowered the much better trained, and well-equipped army. So the Freedom Fighters won, and Bangladesh was created, on the back of a short, and brutally violent civil war.
Now why do I bring this up, well today is Independence Day in Bangladesh. Today the populus celebrates their freedom from Pakistan over 30 years ago. And how do they celebrate? They celebrate with a military parade, not only attended by the military and police force, but also by the school children in the city. To witness these children, saluting and marching in formation similar to that of the soldiers was a painful sight for me. Why must these children be taught the way of the gun at such a young age? Why must they be forced to imitate soldiers in school?
This display of military regalia was fascinating for me, the outsider, from a nation with a professional army. The whole procession seemed closer to a reenactment from World War 2, with vintage firearms and full procession, closely resembling footage of the German Army. On this independence day, the celebration is on the military defeat of the Pakistani's not on the power and strength of Bangladesh, which I feel is a tragedy. But how do I advocate for peace in this context? This is a question to which I have no answer. A question, like many others, which will continue to stretch my views and my understandings of peace and of conflict. What do you say, when violence worked?
Paz.
Steve.
The problem is two-fold, mass demonstrations were part of what invited a crackdown by the Pakistani army, and once the army was on the loose, they were killing all of the intellectuals, looting and raping at will. And it was in this scenario that mass uprising and insurgency won. The Freedom Fighters overpowered the much better trained, and well-equipped army. So the Freedom Fighters won, and Bangladesh was created, on the back of a short, and brutally violent civil war.
Now why do I bring this up, well today is Independence Day in Bangladesh. Today the populus celebrates their freedom from Pakistan over 30 years ago. And how do they celebrate? They celebrate with a military parade, not only attended by the military and police force, but also by the school children in the city. To witness these children, saluting and marching in formation similar to that of the soldiers was a painful sight for me. Why must these children be taught the way of the gun at such a young age? Why must they be forced to imitate soldiers in school?
This display of military regalia was fascinating for me, the outsider, from a nation with a professional army. The whole procession seemed closer to a reenactment from World War 2, with vintage firearms and full procession, closely resembling footage of the German Army. On this independence day, the celebration is on the military defeat of the Pakistani's not on the power and strength of Bangladesh, which I feel is a tragedy. But how do I advocate for peace in this context? This is a question to which I have no answer. A question, like many others, which will continue to stretch my views and my understandings of peace and of conflict. What do you say, when violence worked?
Paz.
Steve.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
The Pain of Dishonesty
I hesitate to even breach this subject on my blog. But I choose to, because it poses a significant challenge to peace and more specifically to justice in this country. I have witnessed a couple instances recently, which I feel should be exposed for what they are, but I fear the consequences of exposing them in this public forum. It will suffice to say, that what I am about to describe runs deeper than just these instances and poses a serious problem to the future development of Bangladesh.
I do not believe that this problem is engrained in the Bangladeshi psyche, nor does it make Bangladeshis in any way bad people; for all of the things that bother me in this country, the people are incredibly friendly. The problem is systematic, and as such, it will prove a challenging foe to overcome quickly. It manifests itself on a larger scale as corruption, a word all too commonly heard here in Bangladesh, but I have been witness to it on a smaller scale in my everyday life.
Why, I ask myself, can people not be honest? I know they are poor, this is a poor country, and they need money. And I am entirely willing to give a small amount more from my wealth to help as many people as possible. I never attempt to hoard my allowances, and I do not give anyone less than they deserve. I try my very best to allow each and every person an equal opportunity to receive from my wealth. I am not in a place to know who needs the money more than others, only God knows that, and I quite happily grant Her that knowledge.
Regularly, especially in Dhaka, people attempt to receive as much as they possibly can for any service they provide. And drivers are no exception. Taking public transit in Dhaka is a hassle, and as everywhere, there are honest people and there are dishonest people. If I haggle a price for a ride (illegal as that may be), I am willing to pay for that ride. Officially, I have been told, any driver asking for more than the price shown on the meter, is breaking the law, and it is in fact considered a bribe. And this happens regularly. As a foreigner I rarely, rarely, have a driver who is so honest that they will give me the meter rate. And even if they do, I tip them extra because I understand that the meter rates do not provide enough money for them to support their families. But these men (women don't drive) are honest. And I respect them for that, and I thank them profusely for being honest.
Their are of course others who are dishonest, who ask for bribes, and try to charge as high as they possibly can. Very often I find myself paying an extra 50% or higher to take public transit in the city. But even among the dishonest men, there are those who simply ask for more and take what they are given, there are those who arrive and ask for an extra few Taka as bribe, there are those who refuse to give change, and then there are those who tell intricate lies to get more money as a bribe.
I was lucky enough to experience these liars on a regular basis on my last trip to Dhaka. The first pales in comparison to the second. I was taking a baby taxi from Dhaka University to the Guest house and asked the driver why he would only accept a large bribe. He explained that there was a traffic jam, and that the time wasted would mean that he would lose money if he gave me the meter price. I accepted this story, not wanting to assume the man was dishonest. We then proceeded to return without any traffic jam whatsoever, and I paid the man almost 150% the meter rate. I was very unhappy with his deceit and dishonesty and told him so. I explained very nicely that I was going to give him the agreed on price but that he was a liar and was being very dishonest.
The second instance makes the first but a pebble on the beach. It makes a bump, but it pales in comparison to this rock. The man was asking for a large bribe, and no other drivers wanted to go where we were hoping to go. I had explained to him that the last driver had lied to me and I wanted to make sure he wasn't lying to me about the traffic as well. So we were off, and the driver was lucky that we waited for 15 minutes at a light as the police let the traffic going the other direction through. The light changed 6 times while we waited, and we were at the front of the line. So I had agreed to pay him the price we had agreed on in a traffic jam. I had no problems with this. We arrived at what he said was the place I wanted to go, when I realized he had taken me to the wrong park. So I asked him where we were, he told me the name of the place I was going. I told him it wasn't right and that he needed to go to the other place. He agreed, but first said that it was a kilometre away and he asked for a larger bribe. I told him I would give him a little extra because I did not want a fight. He promptly drove 400 meters and once again stopped, nowhere near where I had told him to go. He turned off the vehicle and I was very unhappy (to put it lightly). I told him I was not giving him more than originally agreed on, because I was in the wrong place, and he had lied to me. He then refused to give me my change, and held me asking for more money. I felt so violated that I told him calmly (a gift of God) that he had taken me to the wrong place, he had lied to me, he was a dishonest person, he had stolen my money and that he could be put in jail for any of the things he was doing to me. I told him he would not receive any more money, and that I hoped he would think a little bit about the type of person he is. That man received 100% more than the ride was worth.
Now those stories speak of dishonesty, which is not a characteristic of most Bangladeshis, but it does create a large problem when mixed with a culture of bribery. I was the unfortunate recipient of two very dishonest men who lied to me, took advantage of me, and stole from me. And it primarily caused me pain, more pain than the person who stole my money and phone. Because these people were using very low techniques of lying and cheating the trust of a customer. There followed an untellable story which caused me to think even more about the case of corruption and bribery in this culture.
I see no answer to this problem, only questions. How can something so rampant, from top to bottom, be changed? When the system is the only system people know, how is it possible to develop a system of righteous and honest dealings, taking into consideration the need for money to support a family? It pains me to see this side of the culture. The side of Bangladeshi culture books speak of, but one which I hoped was shrinking, but it is increasingly rearing its ugly head at me. I sincerely hope that somehow this culture, this system, moves beyond what is presently known, into an honest and strong system providing justice for its citizens.
Paining for Peace.
Steve.
I do not believe that this problem is engrained in the Bangladeshi psyche, nor does it make Bangladeshis in any way bad people; for all of the things that bother me in this country, the people are incredibly friendly. The problem is systematic, and as such, it will prove a challenging foe to overcome quickly. It manifests itself on a larger scale as corruption, a word all too commonly heard here in Bangladesh, but I have been witness to it on a smaller scale in my everyday life.
Why, I ask myself, can people not be honest? I know they are poor, this is a poor country, and they need money. And I am entirely willing to give a small amount more from my wealth to help as many people as possible. I never attempt to hoard my allowances, and I do not give anyone less than they deserve. I try my very best to allow each and every person an equal opportunity to receive from my wealth. I am not in a place to know who needs the money more than others, only God knows that, and I quite happily grant Her that knowledge.
Regularly, especially in Dhaka, people attempt to receive as much as they possibly can for any service they provide. And drivers are no exception. Taking public transit in Dhaka is a hassle, and as everywhere, there are honest people and there are dishonest people. If I haggle a price for a ride (illegal as that may be), I am willing to pay for that ride. Officially, I have been told, any driver asking for more than the price shown on the meter, is breaking the law, and it is in fact considered a bribe. And this happens regularly. As a foreigner I rarely, rarely, have a driver who is so honest that they will give me the meter rate. And even if they do, I tip them extra because I understand that the meter rates do not provide enough money for them to support their families. But these men (women don't drive) are honest. And I respect them for that, and I thank them profusely for being honest.
Their are of course others who are dishonest, who ask for bribes, and try to charge as high as they possibly can. Very often I find myself paying an extra 50% or higher to take public transit in the city. But even among the dishonest men, there are those who simply ask for more and take what they are given, there are those who arrive and ask for an extra few Taka as bribe, there are those who refuse to give change, and then there are those who tell intricate lies to get more money as a bribe.
I was lucky enough to experience these liars on a regular basis on my last trip to Dhaka. The first pales in comparison to the second. I was taking a baby taxi from Dhaka University to the Guest house and asked the driver why he would only accept a large bribe. He explained that there was a traffic jam, and that the time wasted would mean that he would lose money if he gave me the meter price. I accepted this story, not wanting to assume the man was dishonest. We then proceeded to return without any traffic jam whatsoever, and I paid the man almost 150% the meter rate. I was very unhappy with his deceit and dishonesty and told him so. I explained very nicely that I was going to give him the agreed on price but that he was a liar and was being very dishonest.
The second instance makes the first but a pebble on the beach. It makes a bump, but it pales in comparison to this rock. The man was asking for a large bribe, and no other drivers wanted to go where we were hoping to go. I had explained to him that the last driver had lied to me and I wanted to make sure he wasn't lying to me about the traffic as well. So we were off, and the driver was lucky that we waited for 15 minutes at a light as the police let the traffic going the other direction through. The light changed 6 times while we waited, and we were at the front of the line. So I had agreed to pay him the price we had agreed on in a traffic jam. I had no problems with this. We arrived at what he said was the place I wanted to go, when I realized he had taken me to the wrong park. So I asked him where we were, he told me the name of the place I was going. I told him it wasn't right and that he needed to go to the other place. He agreed, but first said that it was a kilometre away and he asked for a larger bribe. I told him I would give him a little extra because I did not want a fight. He promptly drove 400 meters and once again stopped, nowhere near where I had told him to go. He turned off the vehicle and I was very unhappy (to put it lightly). I told him I was not giving him more than originally agreed on, because I was in the wrong place, and he had lied to me. He then refused to give me my change, and held me asking for more money. I felt so violated that I told him calmly (a gift of God) that he had taken me to the wrong place, he had lied to me, he was a dishonest person, he had stolen my money and that he could be put in jail for any of the things he was doing to me. I told him he would not receive any more money, and that I hoped he would think a little bit about the type of person he is. That man received 100% more than the ride was worth.
Now those stories speak of dishonesty, which is not a characteristic of most Bangladeshis, but it does create a large problem when mixed with a culture of bribery. I was the unfortunate recipient of two very dishonest men who lied to me, took advantage of me, and stole from me. And it primarily caused me pain, more pain than the person who stole my money and phone. Because these people were using very low techniques of lying and cheating the trust of a customer. There followed an untellable story which caused me to think even more about the case of corruption and bribery in this culture.
I see no answer to this problem, only questions. How can something so rampant, from top to bottom, be changed? When the system is the only system people know, how is it possible to develop a system of righteous and honest dealings, taking into consideration the need for money to support a family? It pains me to see this side of the culture. The side of Bangladeshi culture books speak of, but one which I hoped was shrinking, but it is increasingly rearing its ugly head at me. I sincerely hope that somehow this culture, this system, moves beyond what is presently known, into an honest and strong system providing justice for its citizens.
Paining for Peace.
Steve.
Monday, December 3, 2007
The Power of Faith, The Radiance of Light
The Faith and Light programs organized by the boys at Taize on the last Friday of every month, highlight a powerful gift the Taize community provides here. Through the power of faith, the Brothers break down barriers and allow a radiant light of joy to shine through these beautiful events. The Faith and Light events are an extension of the l'Arche community started by Jean Vanier, and provide an opportunity for the handicapped and their caretakers to enjoy a day of happiness and respite. A time for laughter and joy.
I use the term handicapped not at all sparingly, for that is what we all are. We are all handicapped in some way, the reality is that some people have much more severely disabling handicaps than others. But to say someone is handicapped in one area, does not mean they are handicapped in others. For Rajib, a boy I have gotten to know very well, he may be handicapped mentally, he may not be able to communicate, or go to school, but he cares about those he meets with such love and affection it would soften the hardest of souls.There is no denying the challenges of living daily with someone who is handicapped, especially when they require constant supervision. The task is daunting and often leads to despair. And here again, the light shines through. For in these meetings, the boys from Taize care for the handicapped and the children, they allow the caregivers and parents a time to discuss and reflect on their lives with those in similar positions.
And no Faith and Light (especially the picnic on November 30), is complete without a time of games, laughter and song. Games not only for the handicapped, but also for their guardians. It is a time of relief, a time for joy and laughter in community, a community bridging generations and faiths.
May we all learn to love those labeled unloveable, and to stand with those who are handicapped in faith and in light. Loving unconditionally and caring incessantly. For I have learned, your love will never go unreturned.
Peace and Joy.
Steve.
For All Those Learners Who Just Aren't Sure
This is a quick note to anyone out there who is just not sure whether or not they want to be a learner. I have found the company to help you do just that. "Sceptic Learning" is a company in Dhaka designed to help people learn. Don't worry they will help you with "chapterwise question paper solving" (whatever that means!), I just wonder whether they teach you to be sceptics or not. I must admit, I'm a little bit sceptical about the whole idea myself.
Dhaka - Creating a society of sceptics, one sceptic at a time!
Peace.
Steve.
Saturday, December 1, 2007
Something We Can Never Understand
I will now write a small reflection on a story I read today in The Daily Star English language newspaper in Bangladesh. For the full story visit, http://www.thedailystar.net/story.php?nid=13756. The story entitled, "Slum dwellers also come in aid of Sidr victims", really touched my heart and brought to mind some tough questions.
The story details a slum in Dhaka, Bangladesh, who have collected a truckful of clothes and other items to aid victims of cyclone Sidr in Southern Bangladesh. What a powerful message! It reminds me of the story in Luke 21:1-4, where Jesus speaks so favourably of the woman giving all she has to the Lord. What has happened to us? Those of us, wealthy beyond the imaginations of the slum dwellers in Karail slum, yet what do we do with that wealth? Could I, the student that I am, give anywhere near what these poor families are giving? Could I ever give to the poor in the way that these poor have done?
The concept of giving from your excess is common, and most people do this in some form or another. But the concept of giving from what you lack, giving something from the figurative nothing, this is the amazing story of the slum dwellers of Karail. The people living in this slum live in terrible conditions. They live in conditions unimaginable in affluent Canada, yet they gave what they had, what they may very well need in the future, they gave those things to help others who now have even less than they do.
In reflecting on this amazing display of love and care, I will draw our attention to this quote, "We are poor, but the cyclone-hit people are poorer now. They have nothing, no home, clothes or food to eat. We poor people can realise how painful it can be to be in a situation like that". Now what does that say about us? The distant, aloof, affluent group living in large houses, driving large cars, entirely oblivious to these instances of amazing self-sacrifice. It says that we cannot understand, it is not possible for us to understand what it means to be poor. I can live simply, but I don't know what it means to live in poverty, and I likely never will. That is not, however, a justification for not following in this powerful example. When all your wordly possessions fit in a house the size of most North American garden sheds, and you still choose to give to those who have even less than you do. That is radical, that is love for your neighbour at its best, that is an example of what those of us who have more, should be challenged to do.
This story proves a challenge for me, a challenge to bring the gift of love and empowerment to the poorest in society, and to realize that I can give even when I don't think I have enough to live comfortably. I challenge myself, and you, to think about the poor when you desire something new. Because until you try to understand the poor, and live like the poor, you will never be able to give like the poor.
In Peace and Seeking Justice.
Steve.
The story details a slum in Dhaka, Bangladesh, who have collected a truckful of clothes and other items to aid victims of cyclone Sidr in Southern Bangladesh. What a powerful message! It reminds me of the story in Luke 21:1-4, where Jesus speaks so favourably of the woman giving all she has to the Lord. What has happened to us? Those of us, wealthy beyond the imaginations of the slum dwellers in Karail slum, yet what do we do with that wealth? Could I, the student that I am, give anywhere near what these poor families are giving? Could I ever give to the poor in the way that these poor have done?
The concept of giving from your excess is common, and most people do this in some form or another. But the concept of giving from what you lack, giving something from the figurative nothing, this is the amazing story of the slum dwellers of Karail. The people living in this slum live in terrible conditions. They live in conditions unimaginable in affluent Canada, yet they gave what they had, what they may very well need in the future, they gave those things to help others who now have even less than they do.
In reflecting on this amazing display of love and care, I will draw our attention to this quote, "We are poor, but the cyclone-hit people are poorer now. They have nothing, no home, clothes or food to eat. We poor people can realise how painful it can be to be in a situation like that". Now what does that say about us? The distant, aloof, affluent group living in large houses, driving large cars, entirely oblivious to these instances of amazing self-sacrifice. It says that we cannot understand, it is not possible for us to understand what it means to be poor. I can live simply, but I don't know what it means to live in poverty, and I likely never will. That is not, however, a justification for not following in this powerful example. When all your wordly possessions fit in a house the size of most North American garden sheds, and you still choose to give to those who have even less than you do. That is radical, that is love for your neighbour at its best, that is an example of what those of us who have more, should be challenged to do.
This story proves a challenge for me, a challenge to bring the gift of love and empowerment to the poorest in society, and to realize that I can give even when I don't think I have enough to live comfortably. I challenge myself, and you, to think about the poor when you desire something new. Because until you try to understand the poor, and live like the poor, you will never be able to give like the poor.
In Peace and Seeking Justice.
Steve.
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