Tala waterlogging

Coming back into town we past some public areas crammed with people living in temporary camps.  We stopped and met a few people.  First is Babu Ram.  He and his family have been in this temporary camp for three months.  The road to their house is under water and their porch has turned to mud.  

Walking further down the road we came to another camp.  People came quickly to meet us.  Here are some of the faces I saw.

And last but not least.... here is baby Bona... meaning flood.  She is so named because she was born into this camp during the flood.  You may notice her mom looks like she should be playing with dolls rather than having a baby.  Unfortunately, natural disasters exacerbate social problems such as early marriage, child labour, ... as families often don't have the resources to provide for their children any other way.  

Floodlands Shatkira Bangladesh 2009

Makeshift houses along roadside

Toilet serves the community

Mango trees dying from being submerged

Kids playing in spite of the hardships

 A bridge to the road

This highschool is not operational due flooding

This is the road to the primary school, now underwater

Tala Upazilla of Shatkira district in Bangladesh was once a place where people could grow rice, pulses, vegetables, and have fruit trees.  For the past four plus years the rivers have become increasingly clogged and water can't flow out into the sea, leaving people waterlogged for up to seven months of the year.  The people's homes are typically made of mud, which become engorged with water and collapse.  Some who are able to build their houses on higher foundations or use cement or bricks, are perhaps able to stay in their homes, but larger numbers are forced to relocate to temporary shelters on the roadside or in public areas such as school grounds.  Obviously there are health and safety issues, not to mention the pain and stress of having your livelihood, your home, your food sources... being wiped out year after year after year.  We are working with a local NGO to put in tubewells that will be raised above flood levels so that they will be accessible and remain uncontaminated year round.

Return to Bangladesh

I scribbled notes in my little book when I first arrived back in Bangladesh.  As the newness wore off, I thought maybe they didn't still apply, but I think it does.  So here you go, scribbled out 15 October and making it to a posting 8 November:

So I'm back in Bangladesh and what can I say....  One comfort on my return was that I was to arrive at midnight, to slip back discreetly into the quiet and coolness of night.  The storm in the Pacific Nothwest, the mad dash to catch my flight in San Francisco after a delay from Portland, the taxi to the runway only to sit for 3-1/2 hours watching the fierce winds blow water in sheets along the pavement, the eventual return to the gate accruing ultimately a 13 hour late arrival into Bangladesh... all meant that I was instead thrown immediately into the steamy heat of the early afternoon, the weaving traffic, the skinny boys indicating they want food, the limbless men waving their stubs seeking a donation, a woman vomiting from a bus, a rickshaw wallah straining with a massive load stacked way above his head.  And you may be asking, how does it feel to be back.  And what can I say?  I would love for the warm days of an Oregon summer to linger forever.  To continue spending time with my family, watching my nieces and nephew grow, riding my bike, floating down the river in my kayak.  No amount of relaxation can last long once thrown back to the throbbing mass, the sooty humid air, the constant disparity between the arrogant rich and the desperate poor.  But there's something here that is gritty and real, that will break your heart and heal it up again, that will teach you what hope and love really is.  And I wish I could show you this place because there is something about it that feels like home.  

The “who needs a bed (or shower)” tour of Rajasthan day 2 - 4

So a noisy train doesn’t seem like the best preparation for 3 days on a camel, but time limitations didn’t allow for a break in between. Guess we slept well enough as we were all woken by someone banging on the train windows at 5:30 am at Jasailmer station. The man from Ganesh travels was waiting to take us for breakfast and a shower before we needed to get to our camels. We were in their guest house which is inside the fort… an ecological no no according to Lonely Planet but boy it was nice to eat breakfast as we watched the sun rise over the fort and temple walls. A cup of coffee and a shower and I was ready for whatever came my way.  
They drove us out into the desert about an hour where our camels were waiting. I was introduced to Sunday, my travel companion for the next 3 days. Sunday was typically the leader of the group and was taken to fairs and such to show off his talents such as to put his head cutely down on the ground upon demand. He had some stomach issues which didn’t make him hugely popular with those following closely behind (sorry Sarah). I’m not sure what my compatriots meant when they say we all had the camel most suited to their personality. Jodi had the naughty one… I see that. Dave’s Papaya just followed along but once in a while got a bit more adventurous ie: trying to snuggle up to Sarah and running away for a night of feasting on the second night; Sarah’s regal and steady; and mine… slow and steady leader with particularly bad smells? Does that fit?  

Overall I feel my preparation of kicks and squats courtesy of Billy Blanks Bootcamp prepared me as much as possible for 3 days on a camel, but really, how do you prepare for 3 days on a camel? When we stopped for lunch I was pretty surprised my legs could still hold me up. I loved the simple meals of whole grain chapatti’s and vegetables always preceded by tea. We had hours of siesta which did get long as suddenly the heat became really intense and sticky. Around 3 it cooled off a bit and it was time to climb back up on the camels and carry on. It was really relaxing to travel through the desert seeing the plants, wildlife (deer and mice), birds and just enjoying life. Just when I was about ready to really STOP enjoying life, these children came running out of the desert like a mirage carrying water soaked jute bags full of semi cold sodas. It was the most amazing think I have put in my mouth! It was also time for the camels to have a drink from a well, and a short hike later we were making camp on a beautiful sand dune, settling in first to watch the sunset and then to see the most amazing display of stars I have seen for a long time.  

My response to the sand beetles was not exactly what one would refer to as stoic. The Camel Guide’s assistant, in his limited English, assured me they would not hurt me and would only give “beetle kiss”. O but how much I did not WANT beetle kisses. The first night they seemed like they liked Dave best but night two, perhaps as my hair smelt more like camel dung, they seemed to be drawn to me as well. As were some wild dogs trying to befriend Sarah during the night. Regardless, sleeping on the sand dunes and waking to a big cup of tea being put by your bedding in the morning was pretty fabulous.  

Our camel guide was a character as well. He’s 28 and got married at 23 when his wife was 10. He only saw her that one day and will not live with her for another 5 years. He’s illiterate but has picked up some pretty hilarious sayings from tourists all over the world. He referred to himself as “bloody camel man” and regaled us with his camel man rendition of “I’m a Barbie girl, in a Barbie world” (“I’m a camel man, in a camel world”) and tales of people he’s taken on safari. One he swears went sleepwalking for miles but didn’t want to have to end her camel trek early so had him tie her down like a camel. Another was offended when he referred to her “grandfather” which was in fact her husband but later she admitted she would take his money when he died, “like a vulture,” according to Shajan, our leader and story teller extraordinaire. We attempted to teach him a good American line since the majority seemed more Australian or British, but found it difficult to explain what our chosen phrase, “Here’s a quarter, find someone who cares,” means. Come to think of it, that’s already becoming obsolete in the US as well, isn’t it. Shame… it’s such a great line.  
The desert is full of windmills, according to our guide to give water to the villages. According to the audio tour we did later, to provide power to the armed forces on the border. Hopefully Shajan’s version is true as well.  
I was perhaps the only one of our team sad to see the trek come to an end. Everyone else was feeling sore and tired but I definitely felt less sore the third day. I also had a chance to rinse off 3 days of sweat and dryness which gave me a whole new lease on life. But all things must end and it was time to return to Jasailmer town and explore by foot. PS… no one is exaggerating the tales of camel flatulence… it’s rough, but otherwise they are amazing animals PSS… Saw one snake trail but no snakes which made it a GOOD trip! PSS Never changed clothed or bathed on this trip aside from some wet wipes but seriously, I smell so much worse after a day walking around in Bangladesh than I did after 3 days in dry desert heat on a smelly camel.   Go figure!

The “who needs a bed” tour of Rajasthan 2009 Day 1

Sarah and I had started planning our next holiday while we were still in Kerala, but took some time to decide on a destination. I had camel treks in Rajasthan on my mind for a long time but was surprised she was interested as well. Sarah is transferring from Kolkata to the Middle East so it was our last big hurrah before she goes. Two others from MCC Bangladesh decided to join the camel brigade as well, and we had a team.  
My trips to India always start with the overnight 13 hour bus ride from Dhaka to Kolkata as this is the $12 option rather than the $150-200 but o so pleasant (I’m imagining) flight. So I arrived in Kolkata at 8:30 am, going through customs very quickly as foreigner lines are short! I got to Kolkata in time for an afternoon meeting which ended up being postponed until evening but was still productive. I was meeting with a lady who does dance therapy with people, which I think will be ideal for Bengali women coming from trafficking/prostitution who have experienced unimaginable trauma but for whom a therapist’s couch is too foreign and traumatic in and of itself.  
A few hours in a bed were welcome but it was a 4:30 am trip to the airport for Sarah and I to fly to Jodhpur. There we were to meet Jodi and Dave and although I imagined any numbers of complications, it worked like a dream. We hurried to the Mehrangarh Fort…. Wait, I actually took notes of this one… I know, I’m a nerd…. Or just pragmatically aware of the limitations of my memory!  
So the Maharaj here no longer have power of state but they are developing the trust to keep the heritage alive in the area… and to keep themselves in the manner to which they are accustomed, I presume! The current Maharaj was just four when he was crowned after his father’s death in an air crash in 1952. He said he doesn’t clearly remember other than being a solemn and important occasion, but an onlooker told a story of how, as people passed, they gave him money as tokens of their esteem. As they did so, he began to give the money received to the next person and they saw this as a sign that he would be a great leader.  
As with some of the other forts, the entry way has a sharp turn so elephants could not gain momentum to storm the gates. Next to this gate are handprints of women who performed Sathi. This is when a widow throws herself on her husband’s funeral pyre. This proved to be a common thing among the Rajput rulers… When they died, their women went with them. When they knew that defeat was imminent, the women would prepare themselves all night and go into the fire in the morning, after which the soldiers would ride into the enemy troops to their death. This way, the castle was never stormed and they were never taken by the enemy. They also felt the sword was chivalrous while guns showed weakness. Needless to say, a massacre eventually ensued by those feeling otherwise.
The tradition was for women to keep purda (not showing their face) so there are ornate women’s quarters with specially carved wooden screens so the women can watch the goings on but not be seen. The grandmother of the current Raj kept purda, and, when she once visited London, the journalists, quite intrigued, were all after a picture of her. They never saw her face, but someone did get a picture of her ankle. The Jodhpur contingent was so riled, they reportedly bought every issue of the paper in which the photo appeared.  
The women would play polo, believe it or not, and this is where Jodhpur’s (riding trousers) and they had these dumbbells the women would use to keep in shape! There was a gallery of Marwar Miniature Painting which is amazingly intricate. I would have bought some samples but didn’t fancy dragging anything extra along on a camel trek!
Jodhpur is an especially picturesque town as the Brahmin caste traditionally paints their houses a lovely indigo blue. Now it’s not restricted only to Brahmin, and the hills are littered with these lovely houses. There is also a palace in the distance where the Maharajah and his family live and where people not restricting themselves to the budget accommodation section of the lonely planet can also stay!  
After the fort we had saffron lassi’s which were incredibly rich and refreshing and nothing like what we call a lassi in Bangladesh or the US. Seriously, amazing. This was followed by me going on a quest for a functional ATM (I’d found 4 previously that were not functional), and then to discover why it is essential to destroy your outdated cards so you don’t inadvertently use the old one and curse the bank when it doesn’t work, when in fact, you are the idiot. Luckily I had some dollars to exchange which tided me over until I could recognize my folly and try again with a current card.  
After a dinner on a guest house roof it was time to pack up and head to the train and on to the next day.  photos: view of a woman in purda/ Mehrangarh Fort

Blessings in disguise

It has been quite a week.  For our alternative employment program, we have been working with an NGO that provides support and empowerment to street based sex workers to ensure their human rights and promote their health and safety.  There are more than 500 women who are members of this NGO.  We took 26 women last year, and gave them training and an a way out of the trade.  As it's not easy to develop work for people, we started with only 10 new women this month.  We selected criteria to prioritize who we would take... women who were the wage earners of their families, widows, women without options.  Unfortunately, some less than respectable people decided to try to profit from the situation and took money from women saying they could get them in, and then tried to threaten our staff to get their way.  There were threats and scenes throughout the week, and at one point we went to the police and had them come to address the issue.  

The training center where they meet is right in their community and has some issues like poor ventilation, flooding, dampness, lack of light... but as they could not find anyone else locally who would rent to a project like this we had just the week before decided to make the best of it and make a few alterations to try to solve these problems.  As the troubles erupted, the ladies with fear in their faces said they wanted the center to be moved out of the area, and with concerns for safety, we decided to look for a new building.  The one we found is ideal; very secure, midway between the slum where most of the women are coming from and the MCC office, has space to start our childcare program and have a separate office and maybe even a showroom, is clean and dry and well ventilated.  My colleague was giddy with excitement and said, "God is always on our side."  I think he really is and hope I can remember that next time everything seems to be a disaster.  I'm still saddened though at how many women are living these tragic lives with no options.  Ten women is such a drop in the bucket and so many could be spared the daily horrors if more jobs could be created.  Please pray that these women will quickly become employable (they are admittedly crude when they start the program), and that jobs will open up for them so we can take in more women as soon as possibe.  

Back in the desh

As many of you know, I was able to go home this Christmas thanks to collected and donated frequent flier miles. As my sister had a new daughter in October, and her elder 3 are growing like weeds, it means a lot to see them as much as I can. This trip home was different than any other Christmas in Oregon as we were blanketed in snow, then ice, then more snow. It meant that instead of Christmas programs, shopping trips and seeing the Nutcracker, we pretty much snuggled up on the couch and watched movies as the snow fell... and fell… and fell… and fell. And even when it started to get old, I found myself thinking, really, can you ever get tired of curling up on the couch with a niece in each arm watching Enchanted? (The correct answer is no, by the way!) 

But now I’m back in Bangladesh, busy trying to figure out a new position while winding up last years programs and getting prepared for next year. I wasn’t able to visit the Alternative Employment project until today. I arrived carrying some large bags, but instead of helping me, the woman who met me at the door went racing back inside to excitedly tell everyone that I had arrived. They flocked to me, hugged me, asked me if I missed them, told me they thought of me on Christmas, held my hands, told me I looked beautiful (due to my Oregon pallor!), told me I looked thinner (come on, I just spent 3 weeks in the US eating every thing in sight!), gave me some gifts, and just showered me with love. They had made posters welcoming me "from your 26 daughters.”  

I often feel sad thinking about how much I’m missing at home, how much my nieces and nephews grow up while I’m gone, how I miss their performances and their milestones… But I’d sure hate to miss this too… getting a chance to see people given opportunities to improve their lives, feed their families, and to be empowered. It’s a special gift.  

Christmas 08

Christmas in Bangladesh is lacking the cold, evergreen trees, not to mention the lack of public excitement in a Muslim country, but we had a fun pre Christmas dinner with some family friends. Veronika made a wonderful dinner of rice, chicken and fish so Bengali's didn't have to feel that they weren't fed. We made cookies and I think at first they wondered why I was making them help with their food but I think they figured out it's actually a kind of fun activity with tasty results. You may describe this as a Charlie Brown Christmas tree but I have raised it from a small sapling and I think it's pretty cute!

New opportunities

2008 has been really busy, if you've noticed my blog entries becoming increasingly scarce! MCC has 3 programs in Bangladesh, one is agriculture research and extension, where I have primarily been working up until this year, one is Health and Education which supports children in schools, orphanages,... and Job Creation, which works with organizations that develop the kinds of products you see in 10,000 Villages (you do shop there, right?!). This year we have been working with a local NGO that serves to promote the human rights, health, and safety of floating (street or hotel based as opposed to brothel based) sex workers to identify women who wish to leave sex work to make fair trade products. There was a lot of interest, but we had to narrow our initial selection to 26. Well, we said 20, but when it came down to it, couldn't exclude those last few! They are now coming daily for training in everything from life skills, to communication, to leadership, to literacy, to math, and I'm working on their English. You should hear them sing "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes" and "The Hokey Pokey", the pain life has given them disipates and they sing their new English words with reckless abandon. We had a new life celebration for them last week which was really special. For the past five days I was away with other programs, so coming back today, I was amazed at the change I saw. Back when I came for the final interviews in May, while their features were attractive, there was a deadness in their eyes, even the young ones, that was alarming. I walked in today on a group of women that can play with abandon like children, who have smiles rather than tragedy in their eyes, who are lovely, giving women so enthusiastic to make the most of an opportunity that they have, that so many need.

In Bangladesh, there is so much poverty, and in spite of the facade of religious fervour, Bangladeshi sex workers are the busiest in the world. At the same time, they are completely shunned by society. For those whose families are aware they lived that life, even if they were kidnapped or sold into it, they can never go back home. And it's a life no one enters willingly. I have yet to find someone in Bangladesh who chose this profession... everyone I have met has a story of a father dying, a husband leaving, being raped, being manipulated, being coerced, or living in debilitating poverty. In Bangladesh, such a woman is "spoiled" and no redemption is available. Of course, we disagree!

These women will work with an enterprise MCC is developing which will produce soap. I'll keep you posted on their continued transformation and eventual production! It's not an easy road... Please keep them in your prayers!

biye

Marriage (biye) in Bangladesh is critical. In our initial HIV pilot project baseline survey almost everyone, male and female, answered "yes" to the statement "marriage is essential to a happy life." When I see what marriage involves, especially for rural girls/women, I really don't understand that view, but Bangladesh is not a place where nonconformity is valued. Still, it made me sad this morning to talk to the lady who cleans my friends house and hear her family situation. I knew one sister had been married a couple years ago at a very young age... 13. She also had a baby recently. So I was surprised when she said her other sister is 22 yet unmarried. She said this sister is "kalo" or black, and therefore the family cannot afford a dowry for her as more money would be needed to find a husband for a woman, who in this culture, is deemed undesirable by the shade of her skin. She said her sister, unlike her, can read and write, and can do beautiful Kantha, the traditional Bengali sewing/embroidery. But she's dark and poor and therefore can't getting married, feeling sad watching all her friends marry and have kids. As someone who thinks dark skin is so beautiful, I don't understand, nor do I understand determining a persons worth by such arbitrary criteria.

Oregon visitor

I just had my first Oregon visitor in Bangladesh, Stanley.  Flat Stanley that is.  I think he had rather a good time and hope he will tell others what an interesting place Bangladesh is.  Here he is riding a rickshaw in Dhaka.

snow in Piegacha

my sister sent some gifts for the family of the woman who works in my house. I was visiting her village to attend a wedding and this is the fun we had with the unique toys from the US. One of the things was "snow", seen for the first time in Piergacha I'm sure!

Not quite Barnum and Bailey

Last weekend I took a break from my "spring cleaning" (although it's winter here, it's spring temperatures) to take my friend and her son to the fair.  Thinking we'd make a fairly quick getaway, I inwardly groaned when we discovered the circus would start in half an hours time.  I decided that this was actually a cultural experience not to be missed.  Bengali's of all times, wealthy, poor, Bhurka clad, sari wearing, young and old.  

the circus began with some Bengali songs and I thought the two hours of high pitched singing would not be so bearable.  then things began to pick up.  Girls did cartwheels and flips dressed in tights and t shirts with bloomers.  "little people"played clowns mimicking them (I guess it's more dignified than begging on the streets ...I don't know).  a goat walked on planks.  A woman threw knives at another spinning woman.  a motorcycle went upside down within a large circular cage.  Although missing the bearded lady, I'd guess pretty similar to circuses of hundred years ago.  As usual it
was just fun to live in a place that is in so many ways like time travel to a simpler time with simpler pleasures.  The grand finale was an elephant kicking a football.  I think my nieces could actually come be Bengali circus stars with their gymnastic abilities but doubt it's a well payed career, and from what I understand, rather scandelous.  Although the prestigious people watch the circus, they wouldn't accept the performers in 
proper society.  
Which is one of the painful things about living here, the hierarchy and the 
societal limitations  placed on groups of people.  Still, a fun day, a fun time, 
and a joy to see the young son of my friend (seen in the picture of my blog on my lap) 
with eyes as big as saucers!

Pilgrimage

Above is a link for a pilgrimage under way in Bangladesh at the moment.  Unfortunately it is the same weekend I chose to come to Dhaka for some meetings and to see some friends.  We'll see if I'll be able to get home tomorrow.  May be a long trip to get back the same time 3-5 million pilgrimage takers are heading out of Dhaka/Bangladesh.  Wish me luck!

Victoria Falls

It may be dry season, but Vic Falls is still an amazing place.  Try to catch the rainy season though!

zambia

Culture shock begins at gate 17

I have spent the past nearly 4 weeks traveling to Swaziland, Zambia and Uganda assisting with a documentary about youth involved in HIV prevention. My role was to ask the questions while Shawn, an MCC employee, ran around coordinating and filming everything. I’m not quite Katie Couric, (lacking the stiletto heels, blonded hair, and talent), but stumbled along, and enjoyed meeting many interesting young people.

I had been looking forward to returning to Africa since Africa and African people have a special place in my heart and I am still trying to figure out what I miss so much in Bangladesh. African people just have a vibrancy maybe that I’m drawn to. I certainly love the wild nature that can be found there.

Each place we visited was different. Swaziland was young adults who visit churches to do a drama and music program and help establish support clubs to promote abstinence among unmarried and faithfulness in marriage. It was a group of young people really talented (a number of them could take American Idol, I’m telling you) who were really committed to their cause and really fervent in their faith. It was fun to meet them and join them for some of their activities. I was able to go visit a friend in South Africa who has married and moved there permanently. Having added 2 little daughters to her family since my last visit, it was great to see her. I realized I had been to her house in 2001, 2003, 2005 and now 2007, so this trip was destiny, I’m sure of it.

The next stop was Zambia, where we spent the first night with the MCC reps, Sigi and Lois, who are responsible for me joining MCC in the first place. They fed us cappuccino’s topped with dark chocolate, shortcake and fruit (nectarines…. After 15 months with no sign of a peach or nectarine, what a treat!), later dinner of Sigi’s spaetzle, and we were sent off to Choma (about 4 hours from Lusaka towards Victoria Falls) for the project. We were looking at a youth peer educator program at the Brethren in Christ school (Brethren in Christ is part of the Anabaptist group and fairly connected to MCC). The youth were really well spoken and especially animated when discussing in a small group about the issues they are facing. We took a day trip to Vic Falls which is impressive even if it is lacking water at the moment. The morning before we left I went to my old workplace and saw my former boss and current friend, Reberiah. I was really pleased to hear that the things I was working on there are still going forward like the schools I worked with are using the radio program which walks the teacher through a set of lessons improving the quality. One of the schools that my aunt has been raising money for is gradually being built and should be finished with the latest installment. Home based care groups are growing and have more resources now.

Final stop, Uganda, and although I didn’t have any friends to connect with here, I was excited to go somewhere I’d never been. In Uganda we were visiting a project called AEGY which trains peer educators in schools and has care and support programs for people living with HIV/AIDS and for orphans. This project was fun because we got to visit communities and people. One thing I was amazed by was people’s openness about being HIV positive. There is still stigma, but at least people participating in AEGY’s programs are bold and active in their support groups. We visited some homes, interviewing a couple who were both positive and leaders of a support group, as well as meeting some children. I have been a bit haunted by a few children I met who are living with HIV. One is a young girl…by size you’d guess she’s 2, but the expression on her face of wizened sadness, makes me think she’s probably quite a bit older. I don’t believe she’s on ARV’s (AIDS medication), and certainly looks like she could use them. Another girl is only 18 years old, and has been scarred and crippled with HIV and herpes. She also had given birth to a still born baby. I kept saying that any youth who saw what had happened to her would surely be turned off casual sexual relationships.

In Uganda I was reminded what it’s like in Africa constantly being greeted with the local word for white person( in this case, “mzungu”) which DOES get old…although maybe not as creepy as the unabashed stares of Bangladesh villagers. As we drove back to Kampala we stopped and saw some falls on the Nile River…that was a treat! I also relished a bacon and avocado salad before heading back to a country without much of either!

I heard about the cyclone headed toward Bangladesh that evening, and it seems we (the cyclone and I) were scheduled to hit near the same time. Sure enough, it hit Dhaka right when I was supposed to be boarding my flight. So instead I managed to score a lounge chair in the “quiet lounge” (aside from the loudspeaker directly ahead announcing each flight loading) of Dubai airport, and arrived in Dhaka about 12 hours late….little to pay in light of all the loss of lives that has been experienced here. My friends’ colleague was flooded in the previous blight, and now had a tree land on their house. Getting it from all directions, but again, Bengali’s are used to suffering and calamity and take it with resignation and grace.

I was pleased to finally head to gate 17 for boarding, and this is when you leave the normal planet and enter the “Bangladesh Zone”. I doubt I can describe this in a way you can truly understand until you yourself make the journey, as it’s like nothing else you’ve experienced. You reach the gate, and instead of the wide range of families, tourists, backpackers… it’s men. Bengali men. Lots of Bengali men. Maybe a few women, clothed in Bhurka’s or a sari, perhaps also a child or two, but a heavy majority, men. The call for pre boarding in not the usual quiet group of people in wheelchairs and families with strollers and young children….it is hundreds of men crowding into the gate, ever pushing forward even before the gate is open. The people needing the extra time and assistance to board haven’t a chance and resign themselves to moving aside until the hordes have moved through.

Once on the plane, things don’t really calm down. Trying to keep people in their seats, wearing their seatbelts, with their cellphones off. Few of the stewards speak any Bangla, and 95% of their passengers are speaking no English. There are always multiple reminders not to smoke in the bathroom as people are caught doing so. As soon as the plane touches ground and is hurtling down the runway, people are up and grabbing their bags from above. Comical if it wasn’t so indicative that you are arriving in a place where your normal mode of operandi is suddenly topsi turvey!

flood update 3, 14 March

I'm heading to the beaches of Sri Lanka (OK, most ofmy time will be sitting in conferences, but will see the beaches too I hope!) so won't have much info fromthe flood zone for a while. Most of you have seennews now of the floods, and people do continue tosuffer. There are still many, many people living onthe sides of the roads in make shift houses, made moreunpleasant by ongoing rains. Not one prone to usinglittle sayings, I still have to say, "when life givesyou lemons, make lemonade" is one that Bengali's havecertainly taken to heart. The PARE program of MCC that I work with has been busydistributing relief supplies. For people who areliving in the makeshift house without cookingsupplies, they are receiving food that can be eaten asis as well as water treatment items. People able tocook food are receiving rice, oil, salt, lentils, oralrehydration salts and water treatment. There is always concern that the food gets to theright people, and this is always a challenge. Thereare always people who didn't receive it with obviousneed. At the same time, looking at the peoplecollecting the food, it's obviously they could haveused more food before the flood as well.

Riverfront property...written 30 July

Here's some photos of my riverfront property! I have ten people staying in my house right now -- 2 of whom are babies and think I'm the scariest thing they've ever seen.....get hysterical if I come within 10 feet. People are sleeping on the stairwell, on the roof, everywhere really, but many more are continueing to evacuate. Luckily have a stash of drinking water and a gas cannister to tide us over and the electricity is still working for the most part, as well as the phone line obviousely. In the next hours MCC will decide if we're doing some relief work or just need relief ourselves!

The River (written July 30th, 2007)

If you remember my first visit to my current home, I was pretty excited to be a couple miles from the beautiful Jamuna River. This river is now nearly waist deep at my house. I live on the second floor, and my office is a 3 storey building, so I am safe (able to wade between the two places at least for now) with water and food, but I am certainly an exception here. Please pray for my neighbors who are sufferring greatly right now. The rain has stopped, but this is water flowing from the floods in India and Nepal, so who knows how long it will continue. MCC is currently considering relief efforts, but there is a lot involved and it means suspension of other work for some time. The amazing thing is how good natured people are. A little girl started talking to me this morning. She greeted me, asked me where I was going. I asked her how her house was. With a big smile she said, "It has water, but we caught two fish." So there you go....the Bengali look on the bright side attitude. The longer people are marooned, and as water and food become more scarce, the situation will be more devestating.

Thanks for your thoughts and prayers