The next chapter

I hope you are all well and thank you again for all your news. The adventure continues in earnest with so many interesting chapters, and while I appreciate you are all very busy it’s very difficult to know what to omit. As some of you already know, I have arrived safely in Khargrachari and am very happy here and will tell you all the Khagrachari news in my next blog. But I wanted to share with you some pre-Dhaka departure chapters so bear with me. You’ll have to decide how much you want to read (or ring Adrian and ask him for a synopsis).

A couple of weekends ago, Beth(UK), Colin (UK), Ryan (Canadian –who incidentally knows all the words to our National Anthem and Waltzing Matilda – he’s a crazy rugby fan), decided it was time to get away from the frenetic chaos of Dhaka and take a six hour train trip to Srimongol, which is a tea garden district in the north east. We arrived at the station at 0600 and within five minutes we were in the centre of a forty person huddle. (Bangladeshis are very curious and they ask about five standard questions “Apnar nam ki?” – what is your name, (their attempts at Marguerite are commendable) : “Apnar des ki?” – what is your country (Australia prompts huge smiles followed by cricket and Ricky Ponting comments) : “Apnar kothay aken” – where are you staying (they grin and nod approvingly at Lalmatia and Khagrachari even if they don’t know where these places are) : “What is your religion” - recovering Catholic receives quizzical looks but is acceptable because they understand Catholic – what they don’t understand is if you don’t have a religion at all : and “Are you married” - I have three (tin)husbands and two (duiy) boyfriends provokes great laughter. So by the time we answered the obligatory round of questions and taok photos of every rising Bangladeshi star it was time to leave. (One of the great regrets is that we rarely get to see the people again to give them a print of their photo – one of my most rewarding moments has been delivering copies of photos to our neighbourhood kids – similar responses to what we would get if we gave our kids a car!!!!!!)

The train trip was a whole new experience - the slums along the side of the railway track have to be seen to be believed. Some of the huts are made of tarpaulins held together with what looks like very thick masking tape. They are so close to the tracks it is a wonder they stay upright as the train speeds past and they also have to withstand the harsh weather conditions. The level of sanitation is unthinkable – which leads me to the conditions of the toilets on the train – a once only experience for this traveller – I’ll stop drinking for two days before any future train trip just to avoid the need (and for my Secretariat friends – I promise I will never complain about the drips again – can’t promise the same for the toilet roll changing – as you know in most places here it’s not an issue and still very much a bideshi (foreigner) practice.

OK, enough toilet talk……the trip itself was fun and we took a picnic to enjoy on the train. Some of the others practiced their Bangla in preparation for their exams but I told them I’d keep my eye on the map to make sure the train was going in the right direction – which was just as well because at one station in the middle of nowhere there was a guy (Bengali) standing on the platform with an ‘I luv Australia’ T-shirt on – so I was able to give him directions and told him “yes Ricky Ponting and I are great mates”.

Srimongol is a lush green hilly district and I appreciated begin able to shuffle for the first time in weeks (no terrain we can’t handle Waltergator and Adrian although avoiding the potholes is a challenge). The people were so welcoming and fascinated because they very rarely have foreign visitors – they are extremely poor but so generous and we must have had 2,956 cups of tea – don’t worry GOW members (especially you M2, I have not given up coffee, so keep practising).

There were plenty of highlights, including a walk through the tea plantations and surrounding rice fields where the people left their hard labour to come and chat and invite us for more tea and visit their homes. Ryan, Beth and I especially enjoyed a few hours taking classes in the primary school with amazingly responsive children and teachers, who scored extra marks for their assessments because they joined in with, and clapped at my singing.

I also had special fun playing cricket with the kids who have established a pitch (which is as hard as a rock) in the middle of the rice fields – I scored a couple of sixes because the cow in the next field (which was actually the boundary) conveniently moved in closer just as I took my turn at batting and the kids were semi-impressed at my bowling attempts. They are crazy about cricket here and some of these kids are extremely talented but, unfortunately will almost certainly never have a chance to further their cricketing ambitions.

The visit to Srimongol was over too quickly and we were soon back on the train but not before creating the usual gathering of curious locals. We were fortunate enough to share the cabin with Superintendent Aziz (who I think I mentioned before is in charge of a special police unit – no where near as important as yours though Sir Geoffrey). He was very astute and spoke excellent English – we discussed a range of issues from beggars to politics and the future of both our countries (while the others read and did some more study. As the journey finished he gave me his number and said if their was anything he could ever do for me to call him – considering he was rather cute, I had a few suggestions but noticed my friends had stopped what they were up to and now listening to my conversation with Aziz so I thought it best not to embarrass them, him or myself.

Needless to say I f ailed my Bangla exam and am probably one of the teacher’s biggest disappointments as a student. They think those of us of a more mature age should have better aptitude……….I suggested to her that, because I am older, English has been my first language (or mother tongue as they refer to it here) for longer, so it would naturally take more time for me to learn a new language. Her response ‘Bochi na’ – I do not understand – so I told her we were even, she doesn’t understand my English and I don’t understand her Bangla. For those of you, particularly Peter, Wendy, Jordan and Mon Ami who find learning new languages not so challenging I salute you. I am currently investigating finding a teacher here in Khagrachari who gives private lessons because there are so many dialects here, and even though I can understand some of the conversation, to participate in the community and my job, I will have to have a clearer understanding than I have now.

I miss you all every day and if you ever feel like dropping me a line - or better still, dropping in………although I will need a little notice for your visit so we can arrange the necessary clearances and security arrangements…………. the address is

Zabarang Kalyan Samity

Kharapur, Khagrachari Sadar

KAGRACHARI – 4400

BANGLADESH

Take special care of yourselves and will blog while in Dhaka next week with photos.

Abar dEkha hObe

Hugs from the Desh

Marguerite