My moving experience

A word (or several) about dance.

This is my passion, and I'm pleased I got the chance to dance here. I keep thinking about the movement of my experince here, for example how my perspective - how I see this corner of the world - has shifted in the last three-and-a-half weeks.

Dance is naturally a very obvious embodiment of a moving experience. And as usual, here as at home, it teaches me. I first danced with the young Bengalis on the boat cruise through the Sunderbans. The "stereo" was comprised of speakers and a mic amplifying the soundtrack of a
Hindi movie playing on the old DVD. Pretty lo-fi, but with a good beat and some willingness to get silly it hardly matters. Some willingness crawled into me that night (as if I can ever stop that) and I got to move with some raucous fun-loving people. I was pretty introverted on
that trip, on the heels of my intense stomach bug. I was hardly eating as I recovered physically. So I didn't feel like I shared much of myself (grateful to my teammates who did). But that night, for that moment, I got to share.

Next we got to dance with some lovely folks in Dhaka during a birthday party, and then there was dancing with the Rotarians and Rotaractors during the cultural program at Cox's Bazar. At that gathering, women sang in Bengali and played the harmonium. It went from melodic and
ethereal to so kickin I could no longer sit still. Luckily the Rotarians felt the same way. I have to say, it's nice to be in a country where the men seem to feel a bit more free to pick up a beat.

And there's been an added element of delightful surprise because these are the men in suits who run the Rotary meetings, take us around to noteworthy projects, engage in all the formalities ... Nothing beats an inspired dance with a suited Bangladeshi Rotarian who is suddenly
shouting and clapping and raising his arms and waving side to side.

We've shared in many ways here - this just happens to be one of my favorites. At the district conference yesterday, a Rotarian approached me from Sylhet and asked if I remembered him. Despite the fact that we met literally 200 people that night, I absolutely remembered him
because I danced with him. I didn't even get to talk with him that night, and I did not know his name, but I knew him.

It's reminded me that language barriers mean nothing when we can employ the universal language of the body. Not to get too gushy, but when I dance with someone, I witness their joy. I reveal my authentic self, and I share in a kind of communion with them.

--
andrea

Seven Layer Tea (text)

(Scroll down for the photo.)

Hey kids! Here's some famous seven layer tea from Srimongol, Bangladesh. Say it out loud, it's fun. This is the land of tea. And apparently the land of science as well. Extra credit for the first student who can explain the science behind the beautiful cup of "cha."

Electromagnetism in Bangladesh (text)

Tubla's birthday present from moi was a few pairs of sweet diffraction grating glasses. Here we are witnessing the electromagnetic spectrum in all it's glory. The gratings in the lenses allows for the "diffraction" or differential bending of the various wavelengths of light thereby showing cool rainbows all around any white light you look at. Blue wavelengths being shorter are bent more and red being longer are bent less. Of course all of this light rushing around our world is the result of electrons being energized to higher orbitals, jumping back down, and then transforming this energy of motion into self propagating waves of electricity and magnetism that work at right angles to each other propelling through  air or space or glass at 186,000 miles per second or 300,000 km. per second (speed varies with medium).

So, to review light comes from the unceasing ping-ponging of electrons in their unending "orbit" around the nucleus of the atom. Little bits of matter condensed from an over abundance of energy that flowed forth into the Universe, like love, some 13.7 billion years ago. Love to us all, Jim

Electromagnetism in Bangladesh

Andrea

Henna and And

Andrea getting her hand hennah'd last night at Mahleka's birthday party by Tubla. Tubla is really quite the master artist here. I will send an update of the final piece in the morning.

Using Henna, to paint on hands for decoration is very common. We first saw it here at a wedding. It is very common for men to henna their hair and beard, which gives it a very orangey color.

I did not see tatooing at all, though people are very covered up, which may mean there is no reason to do it or I simply could not see it.  Women wear a good amount of piercing jewelry, though not overly so.

No public drunkeness or intoxication. Little public beligerience or anger, despite the traffic. A lot of public patience. I never felt threatened or in danger from the people. A lot of courteousy to me. Helping and cautionary hands, strangers holding my hand to stop me from jumping into traffic. Many kind looks and nods of the heads. People of all ages coming up and asking in english where I am from and how do I like Bangladesh.
Even the word stranger is losing it's meaning here because unlike many western cities the "collectivistic" tendency of this society makes you feel that you are not living in a world of strangers as I would in big American city with no trespassing signs around our necks but in a society without these invisible barriers so people will come right up to you and engage you. This can be disconcerting for us but you get use to it and I'll miss it. It's harder to feel lonely here once you are adapted.

See you all very soon

From John's cell phone
805 798 0886
Jlkenyon@aol.com John's Bangladesh cell is+8801710308215

From John's cell phone 

805 798 0886 

Jlkenyon@aol.com

Seven Layer Tea

A not so quite revolution

Grameen Phone's mission was to bring the technology of the modem in the form of the cell phone to the rural country side people. I don't need to tell any of you the value of being able to call work, home, parents, children or doctors for that matter and we must realize that this is valuable at any economic level. In the Us the cost of a cell phone is actually the average wage of what I consider the middle income group, about 30 US dollars। But Grameen has done something truly remarkable, they have made these phones affordable for everyone। Now cell phones do not have any class distinction, I've seen beggars on the street and field workers using a cell phone। Here my Grameen phone is being modeled Munie, one of the domestic staff। Check out the web site www.grameenfoundation.com for more info.

The tea gardens

This may look like at an uninteresting photo but if you can blow it up there is a lot here. The two rows on the bottom are raw rubber drying, the cut cane on the banks of the creek will be sold and used for a multitude of purposes including roofing. The hill sides are covered with tea trees (bushes) and tall thinly leaved shade trees. This picture was taken outside our bungalow that we stayed in for two nights. This typifies agriculture here, every square hector is planted from the ditches on the side of the rode, to vacant lots in cities. This is how you feed 150 million people on 55000 square miles of land say the size of Michigan.

Notes from the tea estates

In Sylhet, We learn the word for moon: Chad. Moonlight is Chad ni, and
this is what they call a beautiful woman: Chad ni.

We visit the hilly regions - just over the mountain range is India.
Our host pilots his small sporty car down a two- lane road and from
the backseat I smell fresh asphalt, dust, livestock, and traces of old
spice aftershave. On either side of the road are wide fallow fields
separated into squares and tended by men in loungis casually watching
a few head of lazy cattle.  People do their washing in tributaries
that traverse the dusty fields or the green rice paddies. Thin cows
wander.

We experience, and enjoy, the cultural quirks:
Leaving our house at the appointed time, for our grand dinner
reception, only to be whisked back into the house for tea. Being told
to sit, waiting for said tea, and just when tucking into tea (khub
moja) being told everyone is waiting for us - it's high time to go! We
enjoy a sight-seeing tour that includes Adventure Land, a dilapidated
amusement park that the government took over from the bankrupt
proprieters. It's filled with rusty rides, odd statues of an ostrich
and a sort-of T-Rex. The only thing still working was the stereo and
the fountain - which was semi-synched to kickin hindi music.

On the road, We narrowly miss hitting a goat. I stare out the window
at the fields and think about home, about being back in regular life.
What i come up with is that I'm going to miss all of this. The loud
Bangla, the crazy driving. The men with bricks on their heads, the
rickshaws carrying long loads of bamboo, the rickety pickups defying
physics with leaning towers of eggs (dim) that somehow stay upright.
And what of me, and my uprightness in this sideways country? The sun
sets on raw fields framed by billboards for shampoo or cell phones.
Bangladesh is the land of contrast. It is the sound of honking and
singing. It's the smell of burning trash and clean-shaven rotarians
bowing down for 5:30 prayer before the evening meeting. It's fast and
weaving car rides, when we're lucky, and it's also sitting in
standstill traffic in the crush of Dhaka.

It's shouting and inadequate sanitation. It's also laughter. It's
simplicity like we saw from the viewpoint of our narrow boat bound for
a remote river village that borders India. The boat came equipped with
a boy to bail out the water. It's people who courier stones across
that river all day in boats just like that, barely staying afloat.

For a while, in the beginning, I also felt I was barely staying afloat
in the unhinged chaos of this place. Something has shifted. Bangladesh
is unhindered and I am caving to the beauty swirling at the core of
all the chaos. As we head back to Dhaka for our final week, a
contemplation takes root inside me. What will my old world feel like,
framed by all this newness?

--
andrea

Ah me balo achee (I'm fine) we've been out of wifi range for some time now but we are back in Dhaka for the rest of the trip.

Unfortunately everything here is late and hence rushed, so there is no time to plan out something and then do it. An example we have only once shown our PowerPoint and frankly they were not much interested in it so we decided on to not use it even at the District Conference. In this country those pics seem a bit superfluous. They want to hear what we think about their country and the connections we have made, period, so that is what we give them.

This is a great team. They all think on their feet, they give thoughtful and spontaneous speeches. It has worked better than I could have imagined. The team is a perfect blending of strengths and
characteristics. Perhaps this is because of the destination, only certain "types" would want to come, it's also amazing that we picked these four as this trip would blow away even many older and more seasoned travelers. I've taken and gone with groups to India for those ten to twelve day short trips, but thirty days here is a challenge.

We are anticipating the end soon but with melancholy. We will miss our team, we will miss our hosts and we will miss Bangladesh. It has been an experience that we always take with us. Alhamdu lililah and thanks to Rotary

From John's cell phone
805 798 0886
Jlkenyon@aol.com

Faisal: Fresh Prince of Gulshan

Here is Faisal and his two sisters. He is as fly as they come here in
Bangladesh, or any other country for that matter. Don't even think of
challenging him on the badminton court, you'll be choking on feathers...

Nahian Take 2

Nahian of Sylhet

This is Nahian. She is a typical Bangladeshi girl in the 6th grade.
Nahian lives in the north east corner of the country in the city
Sylhet. Her father is a very earnest, sweet, and bro-mantic man named
Delawar. On our first night in Sylhet my host father, Rahim, took me
to their flat next door. After tea, and cookies, and conversation,
Nahian brought out her Harmonium and played and sang the Bangladeshi
National Anthem, and We Shall Overcome (which is a very popular song
in this historically tragic country). Her voice, unlike the ultra-high
pitch practised by many female singers here, instead was strong,
smoky, and of course sweet as only a childs voice can be. Afterwards
we talked about school and her dreams to be a science teacher someday.
Okay, so I made up the science teacher part.

On the day that we left her father took her out of school early so
thought she could join us for lunch and see us off. I gave her
Beatrice Land's letter and a necklace from Rhianna Shariff. You can
see the necklace in the picture below and the letter in the one above.
Like so many of the young people we've met here, Nahian is polite and
sweet and very friendly. She is a great kid, and if she lived in Ojai,
she would have a lot to add to our class. I'll always remember her
beautiful love of her country that she expressed through song and
spirit. Jim