"Excuse me? I don't see you doing this, I could be married. I could be the perfect housewife right now" - Nayyirah (my sixteen year old cousin scolding me through skype when I asked her why she was making a mess in the kitchen)
Sorry Nayyirah, but this quote was just too good to not put up for everyone to see. Plus I had to do something to get people (*ahem my grandmom*) off my back about marriage and you handed me the perfect distraction on a silver platter hehe. I'd just like to inform you all that, luckily, I haven't been married off yet :p
Moving on, I know I'm behind on my blog posts so I'll will update you with my three day adventure!
THURSDAY:
One of my fellow interns invited us over to her apartment for the day and so after work Jes (the hostess), Alex, and I crashed at her place after work. We sat around and chatted for a bit before walking over to the North End coffee shop. Yes, coffee! It actually wasn't bad at all, and this is coming from a girl who was terribly spoiled by her roommates espresso maker all throughout the school year. Thanks Alyssa :).
While the exterior of the cafe was questionable, the doubt completely disappeared when I crossed the threshold. It was like I had entered a coffee shop back in the states (I think the appearance of other foreigners was what really sold me on the ambiance haha). No matter how much Bangla I speak, or even the fact that I'm half Bengali, I look foreign. It's funny listening to people guess my ethnicity; I have a good feeling I will fit in perfectly with the Spaniards.
Afterwards, the three of us hopped onto a rickshaw together and went to the nearest restaurant. It was rather amusing squeezing in together, but we are all relatively small, so it we made it work Of course, at that moment it decided to rain, which of course would be my luck. I am also a California girl through and through, which means I still don't have the sense to pack an umbrella, as I live in complete denial of any weather but sunny and 75. Jes and Alex, armed with rain jackets, started joking that I was an "air conditioned car girl" unprepared for the real life in Bangladesh
Over the delicious Turkish pizzas, we shared our travel experiences. Both of them have traveled extensively through Europe, and it was very exciting to hear them recount their tales. I can't wait for Spain! (I hope to one day backpack through Europe too...but I think I'm going to have to come home for awhile before that happens, or else you guys might just kill me haha) It was also very interesting to compare our experiences here in Bangladesh. They both have come on their own, without the luxury of having family here, so I have a lot of respect for their ability to be so independent in a third world country.
It is funny how our group of interns seems to have been divided along the lines of those who are staying with family (and therefore have a lot more restrictions) and those who are here alone. I think I am just starting to learn how to balance family time vs friend time and recognize how to be safe, but have more independence than I have been previously given while traveling. It's a fine line, but thankfully my family is willing to compromise a lot more than those of the other girls here.
I have so much independence back in America that I always have to make a major adjustment when I stay in Bangladesh. I always wonder how my family was able to transition back to living in a third world country after having tasted the freedom that comes with living in the U.S. Little things like carrying $20 in your wallet or crossing a street at a light become luxuries, especially when you are in an environment where you have to constantly have your guard up. Nevertheless, it was fun to explore Gulshan 2 with friends, and we said goodbye with plans to visit old Dhaka the following morning.
FRIDAY:
Today, I and three other interns, ventured into old Dhaka (chaperoned of course). After we managed to get through terrible traffic, which was considerably more difficult in a SUV, we stopped at Lalbagh Fort. It is essentially a massive pink headstone (in the shape of a palace) for a rich dude's daughter. But just for those who love a bit of a history lesson, I will further expand upon this point. It is an incomplete fort built by a 17th century Mughal. He started construction in 1678, however his daughter died, so the fort became unlucky and was therefore abandoned. All that remains is a mosque, two tombs, and half a wall.
When we tried to go in, the security guard stopped us saying that we needed to buy foreigner tickets. I spoke to him in Bangla, acting outraged that they had called me a bideshi and told him that he was making a mistake in claiming that I was an outsider. Our chaperone protested on my behalf, telling the guard that I studied abroad but was originally from Bangladesh. He let the other Bengali intern pass but demanded I buy a foreigner ticket. Of course this all happened because he wanted to benefit from the higher priced ticket that was tenfold the price of a local's ticket. Still, I was peeved, but I also realized that I wasn't the one holding a machine gun, and my bruised ego really wasn't worth angering the armed guard.
Military with guns is scary, but a corrupt military with guns is your worst nightmare. My heart still stops every time we drive behind an open canvas army van or pass our own community gate guard. We may complain about our gun laws, but it's still better than having an AK 49 (that's my uneducated guess based off of online comparison, however if you know differently please do inform me) present on every few blocks and a questionable law enforcement wielding them.
Anyways, once we all successfully entered, our chaperone jokingly said that this tombstone was a true token of love to his daughter, to which we remarked on how we hoped he showed his love before she was dead. The logic of building a palace for a dead person always fails me. Why not build something to at least house the living, I mean you're not really going to care about how big your house is when you're dead right? I can just imagine the princess going "thanks for this palace dad, but couldn't you have built this for me when I was alive? Or at least redirected the funds to get me that tiger I really wanted..."
But what cracks me up is the number of couples on dates present at the fort. I imagine their conversation goes something like this:
Girl (excited): Where are we going?
Guy: To a graveyard called Lalbagh Fort.
Girl: *sighs* Oh how romantic! Isn't that just the sweetest, this is the most perfect date ever!
Guy and Girl awkwardly amble around the fort leaving more than enough room for Jeasus between the two of them and causing us foreigners to play a guessing game called "Siblings or Sweethearts?"
I guess if our cemeteries looked more like palaces, we would visit them with dates more often too.
Bangladesh's fickle weather decided to reward us for our adventurousness again with a steady downpour. You think I would learn to carry an umbrella in my bag... We hustled back to our car, and then visited the large docking station that one of my uncles just happened to send me a video of! (https://www.facebook.com/
We began to get hungry and the manageable downpour instantly switched into a full on storm. A hasty exit to the car proved to be a success, however, getting out of the old city was impossible. We spent the next two hours on a one way road, with no traffic direction (aka a battle between our SUV and the overloaded trucks coming in the opposite direction). Had it not been for our driver's excellent ability to cha-cha with a car (one step forward, two steps back) we would have sat there for the rest of eternity.
Now starving, the other Bengali intern suggested that we meet her cousins at a restaurant they all raved about and swore by called Chittagong Express. Yes family, you may begin laughing now. For those of you who are slightly confused, please let me clarify the hilarity of the situation. When I eat outside here, I try my best to go to restaurants where I will be served something different from the typical chicken and rice that I can get at home. My family is actually from Chittagong, so ultimately my friends and I had traveled some distance to eat a lower quality of food that gets made for me, both here in Dhaka and America, on a daily basis. While this food was exotic for the other interns, it was typical for me, and the social conventions of the situation required me to sit there and joyfully eat copious amounts of the food I incessantly protest at home (blackened beef or buna, white rice, beef dhaal, and pickled mango or achaar).
Don't worry, I had Westin ice cream to make up for it and we spent the rest of the evening relaxing in Jes's apartment, before we all made our separate ways home.
SATURDAY:
After an eventful two days, a good rest was much needed. For the first time since I arrived in Bangladesh, I slept in until 11:00 am and it was fantastic. Not even an hour later, one of my apu's came by to take me out. I actually had some of the best crepes (still not replicas of the ones I had in France, but close) here in Dhaka, Bangladesh. Who would have guessed? She and I proceeded to spend the next four hours just talking in the cafe. We discussed my internship and non-profits as a whole, which interestingly included the comparison of private social endeavours vs NGO work. I am not sure how I feel about NGO organization or their effectiveness, but I hope that spending more time around BRAC will help me reach somewhat of a conclusion. Most importantly, however, was that my apu restored my determination to continue my women's education project here in Bangladesh.
Discouraged by the amount of negative feedback and constant battle to find reliable data sources, I slowly began to ignore my business proposal created earlier this winter. However, I have a good idea, and although it may be in its beginning stages, it is addressing a part of the population often overlooked by other organizations. Special needs programs are non-existent here and women could benefit greatly from having lessons in specific trades or things like financial management. Currently I am contemplating whether or not to start my own education center in the villages or to create an additional program to enhance the schools already present. I also need to collect more data, which I'm hoping is a problem that a few strategic meetings with BRAC education officials will solve. This project is exciting, and although I may have been disillusioned with undertaking such a feat, I realized that if I manage to create a supportive team, it will become less daunting. Tomorrow I will begin data collection and brainstorming. There is a lot to do and to consider, however, with the lack of office work and the resources of other bored interns like myself, I think this could be the beginning of something great.
I will keep you guys posted!
Lots of love,
Carolyn
(P.s. I am going on a field visit to the middle of nowhere to film a boat school, so I probably will not have internet or cell services for the next four days. I will be sure to take lots of pictures and give you all the details when I get back!)
Sorry Nayyirah, but this quote was just too good to not put up for everyone to see. Plus I had to do something to get people (*ahem my grandmom*) off my back about marriage and you handed me the perfect distraction on a silver platter hehe. I'd just like to inform you all that, luckily, I haven't been married off yet :p
Moving on, I know I'm behind on my blog posts so I'll will update you with my three day adventure!
THURSDAY:
One of my fellow interns invited us over to her apartment for the day and so after work Jes (the hostess), Alex, and I crashed at her place after work. We sat around and chatted for a bit before walking over to the North End coffee shop. Yes, coffee! It actually wasn't bad at all, and this is coming from a girl who was terribly spoiled by her roommates espresso maker all throughout the school year. Thanks Alyssa :).
While the exterior of the cafe was questionable, the doubt completely disappeared when I crossed the threshold. It was like I had entered a coffee shop back in the states (I think the appearance of other foreigners was what really sold me on the ambiance haha). No matter how much Bangla I speak, or even the fact that I'm half Bengali, I look foreign. It's funny listening to people guess my ethnicity; I have a good feeling I will fit in perfectly with the Spaniards.
Afterwards, the three of us hopped onto a rickshaw together and went to the nearest restaurant. It was rather amusing squeezing in together, but we are all relatively small, so it we made it work Of course, at that moment it decided to rain, which of course would be my luck. I am also a California girl through and through, which means I still don't have the sense to pack an umbrella, as I live in complete denial of any weather but sunny and 75. Jes and Alex, armed with rain jackets, started joking that I was an "air conditioned car girl" unprepared for the real life in Bangladesh
Over the delicious Turkish pizzas, we shared our travel experiences. Both of them have traveled extensively through Europe, and it was very exciting to hear them recount their tales. I can't wait for Spain! (I hope to one day backpack through Europe too...but I think I'm going to have to come home for awhile before that happens, or else you guys might just kill me haha) It was also very interesting to compare our experiences here in Bangladesh. They both have come on their own, without the luxury of having family here, so I have a lot of respect for their ability to be so independent in a third world country.
It is funny how our group of interns seems to have been divided along the lines of those who are staying with family (and therefore have a lot more restrictions) and those who are here alone. I think I am just starting to learn how to balance family time vs friend time and recognize how to be safe, but have more independence than I have been previously given while traveling. It's a fine line, but thankfully my family is willing to compromise a lot more than those of the other girls here.
I have so much independence back in America that I always have to make a major adjustment when I stay in Bangladesh. I always wonder how my family was able to transition back to living in a third world country after having tasted the freedom that comes with living in the U.S. Little things like carrying $20 in your wallet or crossing a street at a light become luxuries, especially when you are in an environment where you have to constantly have your guard up. Nevertheless, it was fun to explore Gulshan 2 with friends, and we said goodbye with plans to visit old Dhaka the following morning.
FRIDAY:
Today, I and three other interns, ventured into old Dhaka (chaperoned of course). After we managed to get through terrible traffic, which was considerably more difficult in a SUV, we stopped at Lalbagh Fort. It is essentially a massive pink headstone (in the shape of a palace) for a rich dude's daughter. But just for those who love a bit of a history lesson, I will further expand upon this point. It is an incomplete fort built by a 17th century Mughal. He started construction in 1678, however his daughter died, so the fort became unlucky and was therefore abandoned. All that remains is a mosque, two tombs, and half a wall.
When we tried to go in, the security guard stopped us saying that we needed to buy foreigner tickets. I spoke to him in Bangla, acting outraged that they had called me a bideshi and told him that he was making a mistake in claiming that I was an outsider. Our chaperone protested on my behalf, telling the guard that I studied abroad but was originally from Bangladesh. He let the other Bengali intern pass but demanded I buy a foreigner ticket. Of course this all happened because he wanted to benefit from the higher priced ticket that was tenfold the price of a local's ticket. Still, I was peeved, but I also realized that I wasn't the one holding a machine gun, and my bruised ego really wasn't worth angering the armed guard.
Military with guns is scary, but a corrupt military with guns is your worst nightmare. My heart still stops every time we drive behind an open canvas army van or pass our own community gate guard. We may complain about our gun laws, but it's still better than having an AK 49 (that's my uneducated guess based off of online comparison, however if you know differently please do inform me) present on every few blocks and a questionable law enforcement wielding them.
Anyways, once we all successfully entered, our chaperone jokingly said that this tombstone was a true token of love to his daughter, to which we remarked on how we hoped he showed his love before she was dead. The logic of building a palace for a dead person always fails me. Why not build something to at least house the living, I mean you're not really going to care about how big your house is when you're dead right? I can just imagine the princess going "thanks for this palace dad, but couldn't you have built this for me when I was alive? Or at least redirected the funds to get me that tiger I really wanted..."
But what cracks me up is the number of couples on dates present at the fort. I imagine their conversation goes something like this:
Girl (excited): Where are we going?
Guy: To a graveyard called Lalbagh Fort.
Girl: *sighs* Oh how romantic! Isn't that just the sweetest, this is the most perfect date ever!
Guy and Girl awkwardly amble around the fort leaving more than enough room for Jeasus between the two of them and causing us foreigners to play a guessing game called "Siblings or Sweethearts?"
I guess if our cemeteries looked more like palaces, we would visit them with dates more often too.
Bangladesh's fickle weather decided to reward us for our adventurousness again with a steady downpour. You think I would learn to carry an umbrella in my bag... We hustled back to our car, and then visited the large docking station that one of my uncles just happened to send me a video of! (https://www.facebook.com/
We began to get hungry and the manageable downpour instantly switched into a full on storm. A hasty exit to the car proved to be a success, however, getting out of the old city was impossible. We spent the next two hours on a one way road, with no traffic direction (aka a battle between our SUV and the overloaded trucks coming in the opposite direction). Had it not been for our driver's excellent ability to cha-cha with a car (one step forward, two steps back) we would have sat there for the rest of eternity.
Now starving, the other Bengali intern suggested that we meet her cousins at a restaurant they all raved about and swore by called Chittagong Express. Yes family, you may begin laughing now. For those of you who are slightly confused, please let me clarify the hilarity of the situation. When I eat outside here, I try my best to go to restaurants where I will be served something different from the typical chicken and rice that I can get at home. My family is actually from Chittagong, so ultimately my friends and I had traveled some distance to eat a lower quality of food that gets made for me, both here in Dhaka and America, on a daily basis. While this food was exotic for the other interns, it was typical for me, and the social conventions of the situation required me to sit there and joyfully eat copious amounts of the food I incessantly protest at home (blackened beef or buna, white rice, beef dhaal, and pickled mango or achaar).
Don't worry, I had Westin ice cream to make up for it and we spent the rest of the evening relaxing in Jes's apartment, before we all made our separate ways home.
SATURDAY:
After an eventful two days, a good rest was much needed. For the first time since I arrived in Bangladesh, I slept in until 11:00 am and it was fantastic. Not even an hour later, one of my apu's came by to take me out. I actually had some of the best crepes (still not replicas of the ones I had in France, but close) here in Dhaka, Bangladesh. Who would have guessed? She and I proceeded to spend the next four hours just talking in the cafe. We discussed my internship and non-profits as a whole, which interestingly included the comparison of private social endeavours vs NGO work. I am not sure how I feel about NGO organization or their effectiveness, but I hope that spending more time around BRAC will help me reach somewhat of a conclusion. Most importantly, however, was that my apu restored my determination to continue my women's education project here in Bangladesh.
Discouraged by the amount of negative feedback and constant battle to find reliable data sources, I slowly began to ignore my business proposal created earlier this winter. However, I have a good idea, and although it may be in its beginning stages, it is addressing a part of the population often overlooked by other organizations. Special needs programs are non-existent here and women could benefit greatly from having lessons in specific trades or things like financial management. Currently I am contemplating whether or not to start my own education center in the villages or to create an additional program to enhance the schools already present. I also need to collect more data, which I'm hoping is a problem that a few strategic meetings with BRAC education officials will solve. This project is exciting, and although I may have been disillusioned with undertaking such a feat, I realized that if I manage to create a supportive team, it will become less daunting. Tomorrow I will begin data collection and brainstorming. There is a lot to do and to consider, however, with the lack of office work and the resources of other bored interns like myself, I think this could be the beginning of something great.
I will keep you guys posted!
Lots of love,
Carolyn
(P.s. I am going on a field visit to the middle of nowhere to film a boat school, so I probably will not have internet or cell services for the next four days. I will be sure to take lots of pictures and give you all the details when I get back!)
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