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.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
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.
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