landing

"Maybe I rub my face as though I have been asleep. But I have not been asleep. I have been, as I say, inside the cloud, or, perhaps, the lily floating on the water. Then I go back to town, to my own house, my own life, which has now become brighter and simpler, somewhere I have never been before." - Mary Oliver

Me with my host family in Dhaka, right before a teary goodbye.

So we've landed back in our own beds, on our old streets, returned to the care of friends and family left for a little while ...

The silence is the most unexpected, noticeable, difference. Coming home from LAX on the 405, I found myself thinking the freeway seemed empty and calm. Never thought I'd see LA like that, but compared to the crush of Dhaka, it is. Then arriving at my doorstep on a sunny Southern California afternoon, and being so struck by the quiet.

Kevin and I both woke up this morning thinking the same thing: Where's the noise? No crows cawing, no call to prayer, no heavy equipment, no generators humming, no construction workers singing outside my bathroom window, no household help making us cha.

And no team. Which is, I admit, a little tough today. Each member of my little-while family is tucked back into their rooms; we're all finding our way back into our lives, which, inshalla, will become brighter and simpler. It might take a while to unpack such an extraordinary, crazy, intense, beautiful experience ... at least for me (and I can only speak for myself :).

My greatest hope is that I integrate and absorb this experience so that it makes my life bigger in a way I can share. I pray that it doesn't become the kind of gift that stays wrapped up and tucked on a closet shelf, taken out only on special occasions.

And it is, truly, a gift. No money could purchase a trip like this. Because this trip had little to do with currency, and everything to do with connection.

As I looked out over immigration at the Dhaka airport, having just passed through the threshold of a nation, all I could wonder was whether there was a way I could have been more open, more present, more involved in this experience. There was a time, especially in the beginning, when it all felt too overwhelming to absorb. Absorption was the last thing I wanted, in the chaos and dust of Dhaka ... but that changed. Standing in the airport, I saw something else: our coordinator Waseque Ali, waving us goodbye. I know it's important to all the team to mention this. Waseque bhai, as we call him (bhai is Bangla for brother), was the first face we saw when we arrived - waving to us from the other side of the arrivals gate. And he was the last face we saw when we left, waving to us from the other side of departures. I know I wasn't the only one who got a little choked up. As we famously quoted the entire trip, Waseque told us that first night, "When you are in the hands of Waseque, everything is okay." And you know what? It was true. Down to the last moment, when he paid airport staff to cocoon two pieces of my luggage together in plastic wrap so I wouldn't have to pay $150 to check an extra piece.

We were extraordinarily well cared for. I, for one, feel like I have a kind of family back in Bangladesh. And for an only child from a single-parent So. Cal family, I don't use that word lightly. We just don't have the same family set up here (have I mentioned how quiet it is at my house?) ... that's just one of the many things I'm inspired by.

Here's something else: On our way to the airport, my teammates Kevin and Jim both seriously questioned whether the city had been cleaned up since our arrival. (A little midnight trash pickup for the South Asian Games perhaps?) The hood seemed nicer somehow, to all of us. I laughed. Of course the streets hadn't been cleansed - our vision had. Our focus had shifted from seeing the trash on the streets to seeing the treasures, namely the family and friends we'd acquired in both the shortest and longest 30 days of my life.

As Proust said, "The journey of discovery lies not in seeing new landscapes, but in having new eyes." Well, Amen to that. Here's to new vision that lasts, and a journey of discovery that never ends. I'm grateful to know that the journey is the destination. And to my fellow travelers, you all know what gifts you gave me, and what you left in country. You are extraordinary, each of you, and I am proud to have been part of such a team. I salute you.

all my love,

andrea.

Last Legs

It's now 6:45 am here in Dubai, UAE. And if we didn't tell you before
let me tell you now, this airport is SWANKY! "How swanky is it?" you
say. It's sooo swanky even the wall clocks are Rolex! Bam!

That's all I got. I'm tired and haven't slept yet so.... goodnight,
and see you all soon. Jim and the Gang

John and Mahleka

Bangladesh

Would I recommend that any one come to Bangladesh? Absolutely, but with a caveat, if you come here and stay in a hotel and view the country from the other side of the glass, then I would say do not come here. This is only seeing the superficial face of this incredible country. You would not see the beauty of Bangladesh. The beauty of this country is not in the sites that you see but in the hearts of the people. You will never be able to experience, the warmth, the generosity, the family, the joyousness, the spirituality if you do not reach out, literally, to the people here. You must stay in their homes, eat their food with your hands, and sleep on their hard beds. You must speak their words, know what happened here in 1971 and understand why is dinner at 10:00pm and why "Gulshan is for Lovers". That was our experience here and we feel honored to have had it. Alhumdu lillah. I miss my family in the states so I want to go home, but I'll miss my family in Bangladesh as well and don't know when I'll be back.

Now it's time for let's eat....

With an abundance of 2-hour car rides and a dearth of American-tummy friendly snack foods, we've all ingested more high-fructose corn syrup and partially-hydrogenated oil in the last 4 weeks than likely in the last 4 years. If it's packaged and tasty, it's going in the pie hole.
Doritos, I'll miss you ... Love AB

The Kind of Friendship I'll Miss

Ok, so we're all starting to wax a little sentimental right now. Go figure. The irony that many of you have likely experienced before, is that when you finally get used to a place it's time to leave. Right? We are finally getting to know our way around Dhaka, we know where all
the basic neccesities: grocery, laundry, reliable coffee, and we leave in two days. Allah!

Being the friendly sort myself (what you say?), I think I will most miss the ease of making friends in this state sized nation of 150,000,000. Below is a photo with a man I met in the hallway of a Rotary Club hospital for physical rehab of those unable to afford health insurance. This was in Sylhet. And though I may have found Sylhet to be the most challenging chapter of my time spent in country, this moment of "ginger bearded brotherhood" brought me back from the brink. Just moments after this photo, which was taken because we were comparing the red in our beards, this man bear hugged me with all the joy of an Olympian who had just taken the gold. I'm not a bromantic man by nature, but I have to admit that I hugged right back. This is
the unexpected heart of Bangladssh: that when you are feeling low or disoriented, suddenly the beautiful face of the human is there to bring you back into the fold of mankind. Bangladesh is all mammal. It doesn't matter if you're Muslim, Hindu, Christian, Buddhist, or Baul if you are mostly behaving you are a brother. I have a few friends in Ojai, a couple more in Ventura. What I find most surprising is that I'm wondering if I'll be feeling a little lonely compared to how it is
for me here, halfway around the world from my home. I said it at the conference and I'll say it again here: I love you Bangladesh. Jim

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