The second
day of my trip was my favourite part of the entire trip. My immune system had
bounced back after its complete collapse the first night I spent there, and I had
perfected my drug dosage (one Tylenol and half a Benadryl – not enough to make
me sleep, but just enough to make me feel as though I was floating on cloud
nine, scary how much medicine can mask our pain). With an unnatural pep in my
step, I skipped to the van. It had poured last night for hours, and the road
right out of the driveway was underwater and muddy. Of course the car got
stuck, and all the help, plus the males from the office, got out and spent the
next forty minutes pushing the van off the driveway and into the road (it was
rather amusing watching from the inside seat of the car, don’t worry I offered
to help, but they were aghast at the very thought of me getting muddy, and
really who was I to argue?)
We visited
a second village and sat in on their community empowerment meeting. Because I am
part of the integrated development programme, the topics covered range from
basic sanitation to gender equality. If I thought my Bangla had progressed over
my time here, I was severely humbled, as I probably only understood 10% more
than my Japanese partner who speaks neither Bangla nor English. Their accents
were terribly thick, and they spoke fast enough to put my grandmother’s rants
in her home dialect to shame. I then helped interview three of the
beneficiaries, and I really want to tell you about their stories, but I wouldn’t
be able to do them justice, as I’m not sure how much I understood myself.
However, I am required to review these videos and create reports on them for
work. This means that I will get people from the office to help me out, and
then when I am sure I can retell their personal experiences I will share those
case studies with you all!
We had
extra time in our afternoon because the filming process went by rather quickly.
So, I went on a boat in the haor! It was so cool and sad at the same time. This
lake was clearer than the others I had seen, but that does not mean it was any
less deadly. There is an old village riddle that goes “It is like a bird fluttering
in different houses, it doesn’t have flesh, it doesn’t have bones, and it eats
people. What is it?” Water. Funny how the thing you can’t live without, is the
exact thing killing you. They wash their clothes, drink water from, bathe (both
themselves and their livestock), and even dispose of waste in the same pond. It’s
rather gross, but it’s their only option. BRAC intervenes in these areas, and
teaches them about sanitation and encourages them to use latrines that don’t
run off into the water. Two minor lifestyle changes, dramatically affects the
health of the family and their children’s survival.
We are so
wasteful of water back at home. Think about how many restaurants just refill
your glass when you aren’t even finished with the first one, making it impossible
to ever fully finish. It may as well be a bottomless cup of purified tap water.
But over here you never know, will this be the glass to kill you? After brushing
my teeth with bottled water for a month, I am going to adopt a few different
habits back in the States. Like I’m really going to make an effort to not leave
the water running, shorter showers (thanks to the permanently cold showers, I’m
just shy of the 5 minute mark...), finishing my glass of water and telling waiters
to stop topping my glass off. No, it’s not going to change the fact that kids
in Bangladesh, or the classic Africa example, don’t have fresh water. But at
the same time, why should I abuse that which I am fortunate to have?
After the
boat ride, we went on an adventure to see the fisheries. Don’t worry, I was sceptical
myself, but they said that if I started to have an allergic reaction I could
just hang back in the nearest village...thanks boss. The road we were taken had
broken in the rain (a common occurrence, since almost everything seems to be
made of mud here), so we had to finish the trek on foot. That was quite an
experience. Not only was it quite a distance, but I had to take off my shoes
and wade through water! (I was so paranoid I was going to get leeches or
contract water born disease and refused to do so, until the surrounding people
started chuckling and saying I was chicken because I was a girl – boy did that
get me moving! Something about the word “can’t” really motivates me to do just
that). The distance couldn’t have been more than fifteen paces and the height
almost came up to my knees, but it was terrifyingly exhilarating. Since I was
muddy already, and the second dose of my meds had just kicked in, the rest of
the hike wasn’t as bad. I crossed a river on a bamboo pole (which is a lot
harder than it looks) and ventured into the forest to look at the fisheries. I
don’t think I’ve ever seen land so lush and green. The entire time I was just
thinking to myself “wow, it’s like I’ve jumped into a national geographic
magazine.”
Of course
my presence attracted a lot of curious attention from the children. And as I
mentioned in my previous posts, they were my favourite part of the entire trip.
Throughout the entire day, every village we visited, I had my own version of miniature
paparazzi. The best kids were the ones at the last village we went to. Since we
didn’t have anything else to do, my supervisor indulged my juvenile whims, and
allowed me to race and play with the kids. I made so many different funny faces;
they claimed that I must have been an actress because I was good at drama. I
laughed at that one, who knew I’d find children as sassy as myself deep in the
rural parts of Bangladesh. This trip wasn’t easy for me, the endless
cockroaches in my bed, bucket showers, cup noodles every night (since fish is
most prevalent meat during monsoon months, I had to improvise), no electricity
for hours on end, and finally a raging fever with flu like symptoms. But if you
asked me, I would do it all over again because the moments spent with the
locals were worth every single one of my privileged woes...and those memories
are irreplaceable.
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