Surovi
That’s the name of the charity school that I’m covering for my reportage… The story is about Charity schools that are not a product of NGOs but that were started by Bangladeshis for Bangladeshis. Surovi is really name the NGO that is taking care of this group of schools… But the schools have no other name… And to make things simpler, I’m just featuring one school… The one that I take pictures at is the one at Dhanmondi Pach (five)… Very near Pathshala...
It’s a very cool school… Madam Syeda Iqbaln Mand Banu (or Mrs Khan) started it in 1979 in her own home. She found children from slums, on the streets, working as domestic help and personally taught them. There was no classroom in her home compound so the students were taught in the open lawn of her home. The school is now one of 19 schools throughout Bangladesh. Most of the new schools have proper classrooms and facilities, but in this school where it all started, the students still have lessons on the lawn.
This is how the school works… It starts from baby class to class 8… Baby class to class 5 have 3 sessions of lessons each day…2 hours 30 mins… (The kids only attend one session) From 8am to 10.30am, 11am to 1.30pm, 3pm to 5.30pm… They have 3 subjects each day… For class 6 to 8, their lessons stretch from 8 am to 1pm… Only one session… Every class has about 30 students…
I've been shooting them for the past few days with Topu as my temporary translator... He's got his own assignment to do too... So I'm on the look out for another translator...
When I first started shooting these kids… I dunno what I was expecting… But I was definitely worried… I didn’t know how having a language barrier would affect my ability to work with the kids…
It did affect me… I was awkward and weird… Thank goodness for Topu at the beginning… He was great with the kids… He made friends with them right away… And that helped me to warm up to the kids and vice versa… cos I could only say a few words to the students and ask for their name and their age… some of the kids were so young that they didn’t even know their own age….
But it got better as I started to recognize some faces and names… I also picked up the pace of my bangla knowledge… Crash course you might say… So that I could start asking the kids if they liked something… (Useful… Since the kids were receiving uniforms and shoes on the first few days that I was there…)
And things are still looking up… The kids started plucking bougainvillea branches with flowers and giving them to me and Topu, as a symbol of our popularity… At one point, we were comparing to see who got more flowers… He won… Then one of the girls from class five came to me and drew henna on my left hand for me… In pen… It was a really pretty design but got washed off real quick too… Sad…
Perhaps the kids will get more familiar with me as time goes by… I dunno… I really hope to be able to do my assignment on my own eventually… without Topu’s help as translator… That would be exciting…
Peace like a River
Okok… Lousy title… I just wanted something to start this blog on the River Buriganga… (What it should have been: The last time when I said I went down to a river and had a boat ride with the Pathshala and Norwegian students… I made a mistake… It wasn’t the Bangsi River… It was the Buriganga River… If they are the same thing, I wouldn’t know… The Lonely Planet map of Dhaka on page 117 is really pathetic…)
So, since the Norwegians arrived, I’ve been to Buriganga 5 times! That’s plenty considering that they haven’t been here for very long… Am I an expert on the place? I should be… But I don’t really think so…
It’s just not so enjoyable when you go to a place knowing that you have to do an assignment if you know what I mean… Killjoy… One thing I definitely enjoyed… The boat rides… I love the movement of the boat as it crashes against the waves… Sometimes splashing up at me… (Fine as long as my camera stays dry…)
The first time I went there on assignment, the weather was perfect! It was cool… And we could see the rosy sun as it set… It was a wonderful backdrop for all the pictures that we took… Think postcard pictures…
I know quite well that with the assignment in mind, I did not concentrate on what was going on around me… I was just thinking of what stories I could do… I decided between boat making, bamboo factory, and colours by the river… (I chose boat making in the end…but the final pictures were not up to scratch… oh well)
The people situation was also not very pleasant… They kept gathering around us, making it difficult to take any pictures… Cos there would be crowds of people in every shot… I couldn’t even sneak up on people because the crowd would shout to them and make them notice me... Other times, they would ask for pictures to be taken of them… Which is plain annoying… I was quite stressed on my first trip…
But I watched Kakoli as she took pictures… She really spoke to them and explained to them what she needed to do… She would take pictures of them to please them… then return at a later date to give it to them… She also bravely ushered the people out of the shot as they started to crowd the frame… I tried out myself and it really worked! (Aside from the explaining bit… Langauage barrier…)
It’s also quite interesting to watch as people wash up on the edge of the river… The water might be black and full of unknown disgusting objects… But it’s still a cleansing agent… I don’t understand why… I watched as one lady washed her pots… then herself (always covered at the right places)… and lastly her kids… Her kid was very reluctant to shower because the water was so cold! That was a beautiful picture… A really beautiful picture…
But my last trip to Buriganga is the one where I really enjoyed… It was after the assignment was over… I went on a boat ride in the evening with Topu and Mumit… and it was great… We were just talking… and singing… (Mumit caught on to the song “Peace like a river”… Seriously!) I had time to really breathe in the fresh air… Admire the things on both sides of the river… Have a little R&R…I laid down on the boat and just looked at the stars… (love doing that…) Then we got stopped by river patrol… Apparently it’s cos Topu looks weird… I think it’s cos I’m foreign… And I’m with two guys… (Could be hijacked for all they know, you see…)… But nothing bad happened to them…
The only thing that made the trip less pleasant than the previous ones… The fact that there are a lot more mosquitoes after dark… yup…
Buriganga… I don’t think I really know much about it… (I’m ashamed… I really am… Maybe I’ll do more research on it…) But I have a feeling that I’m going to go back there a lot more… There’s nothing quite as effective in clearing your mind as a boat ride… And it really beats the air on Dhaka streets…
A visit to the Armenian Church
The irony of the whole thing… The only Armenian in the entire church and in the entire Dhaka is the father of the church… I dunno… can you really call an Armenian church an Armenian church when no one who goes there is Armenian?
Oh welll it’s been there for the longest time… That’s why it still stands… in the middle of old Dhaka… Opposite to the building that Topu used to live in… It’s his favourite place in the world (the church… not the building…) so he brought Mumit and I there to visit…
Churches always give me a very peaceful feeling… Even with all the graves around in this one… Could I call it the Peace of God? I don’t know… It was a very pretty church though... With a bell tower and the whole place nicely painted beige... A very traditional looking place... With lots of detail on the walls...
A few things struck me as I went to visit this church… There was one epitaph that had the most touching poem written on it… I copied it down for the blog… It was the grave of a man who died when he was only 24… and his fiancé erected the epitaph…
“As I loved him, so I miss him
In my memory, he is near
Loved, Remembered, Longed for always
Bringing many a silent tear”
This was the first part… It’s the second part that I love…
“Weep not for me my sweetheart dear
I am not dead but sleeping here
I was not yours but Christ’s alone
He loved me best and took me home.”
Another grave had the famous verse from Job… (Don’t ask me how I remembered that it was from Job… Think God brought remembrance of it to me the moment I read it)
“The Lord hath gave and the Lord hath taken away.
Blessed be the Name of the Lord.”
This one struck me… It takes so much faith to trust God in times of diffculty and problems! I took the opportunity to explain to Mumit and Topu what it meant… Even the story of Job… Mumit loves this verse… Topu loves the epitaph that I wrote earlier…
The last thing that touched me was inside the chapel… Been reading about the building of the Tabernacle of God in Exodus… And in the chapel… There’s one area where I was not allowed to step in… Like the holy of holies… Looking at all the utensils and things, I remembered the bronze and silver and gold mentioned in the Bible to build all the utensils for the Lord…
I suddenly felt a real respect for the place… so it’s Catholic and it has pictures of the last supper and of the crucifixion… (I’m vehemently against idolatry and anything that might cause people to worship man-made things…) But then… They really love God and Jesus his son… That counts for something…Their faith… Their obedience to the Word…
And seriously, stepping into that place has made me feel better than I have in weeks… Like a part of me feels at home… Topu asked me if I’d go back there… I said I would… Perhaps the Lord will speak to me more the next time too! =)
Birthday Parcel!
I once thought it might happen… But I didn’t expect it to really happen… After all, it was supposed to arrive in 2 weeks, not after 3 weeks…. My parcel arrived on my birthday!!
I only got the parcel today… But it arrived yesterday according to the people at Drik… And the best thing is, I didn’t even need to go down to GPO… Topu paid the guys Tk25 and they delivered it down to the office! I went to the office to accompany Jessica and I got a birthday present instead!
It is one very heavy parcel I tell you… There were tee shirts, pants, socks, a lovely Polo Ralph Lauren jacket, a shopaholic book (which I already have and read and left at home… but now I can read it while I’m here…), tons of chocolate, moisturizer, photos of my mum with a new haircut (Mummy seems to have aged a bit…), picture of my sister while she’s posing for her wedding photo (my friends and I agree that is a very nice picture… Did Yeechin take it? Can’t wait for the actual pictures… I want a copy of it in digital!), and I haven’t even mentioned the heaviest item in the box…
My family’s love…
They packed all the love they could fit into my parcel… The entire box was filled with it! Every little crack, every corner, in every item placed in it… My mother and sisters must have painstakingly filled up every space with all the love fit to pack…
And since love cannot be seen immediately and they didn’t want me to miss it, they wrote me a card… A simple Me to You card in the silver envelope… And a message from every one of them… How come Yee Chin didn’t write? He’s family too… (That’s just for him… I know he reads my blog too… Hi there!)
It’s so nice to receive it on my birthday… One of the things that 22 brought I guess (see previous blog)…
If I could beam myself home for just 10 minutes, I would run to my family, hug every one of them real tight and give them two kisses each… One on each cheek… for balance…(even da jie who doesn’t like physical affection) And tell them…
“Xiao mei loves you very much!”
Birthday? Whatever…
Someone left me a rose on my door…
Seriously! I have no idea who did it… But it could be anyone from Pathshala… They’re all a bunch of jokers… It could be Sumon who calls me “Dadi”(or Grandmother), Murad & Danny who think I’m preggers (it’s just the fat..), Topu who’s ridiculous or Mumit who’s good at looking innocent while making fun of you… the poker face type… Could even be one of the quiet ones like Kabir…
But that’s just one of the nice things that happened to me…
I got several very sweet e-cards, emails, smses and MSN msgs from home wishing me happy birthday… My SB sent me a sms with a picture that says “I brought a flower for your birthday”… Maybe the rose came from her?
Here’s a funny incident… One of my guy friends, who didn’t realize that I was overseas, called me and wanted to send a cake over to me… I told him that the cake wouldn’t make it… Cos I am in Bangladesh and it takes over 2 weeks for any parcel to arrive… He asked me if I was kidding… I’m sure the readers of Whisper know better…
The Norwegians sang me a Norwegian birthday song during class… It is the funniest birthday song I ever heard! Loved it… Especially their expressions while they were singing… Think they were enjoying themselves springing this surprise song on me… I’m making a recording of it before I go home…
Kakoli, my "ma" in Pathshala, bought me a birthday cake… and I cut it cake on my own bed… With Jess, Kakoli, Rajiv (Pathshala one), Lars and Murad… It’s a really nice chocolate cake… Better than most of the cakes I’ve eaten so far… My “ma” has good taste in cake…
Syeed (actually I discovered the correct spelling is “Sayed”) from multimedia dropped by Pathshala and asked me if I wanted to have dinner! I was surprised that he remembered… So I went for dinner with Sayed, Jess, Lars and Rajiv… Had a beef kebab roll at La Bamba…
The rest of the evening was just quiet… Spent it chatting with Rajiv and Jess (poor Lars had a tummyache…) And I liked it that way…
Sure, birthdays are special days, but it’s not good to make everyone do everything you want just because it’s your birthday… Like dictating where I want to go, where I want to eat, what I want to do… That’s just selfish… I was quite contented with surprise smses and Norwegian birthday songs… Didn’t want everyone to have to pander to me…
In fact, it seems wrong to want so much attention… I don’t even feel any different from yesterday… It could just be another day… So I’m now 22 and well into adulthood… But I don’t need too much fanfare and such… Think an age is not something you turn into… It’s something you grow into… I don’t become 22 because it’s my birthday… I become 22 when I experience another year of challenges and experiences… In fact, on my 22nd birthday, I felt I’d finally become 21… The new age tag 22… is just the beginning of my stage of my life where I will become 22…
I’m not sure if I make any sense now… But the gist is… Birthdays are really nice to have… Presents and cakes and things are nice too… The most important thing however, is how you are going to live the year when you are 22… And who are the people you are going to know and love and bless in this year… It’s been nice being 21…At the start of adulthood and all… Made some new friends… Made some old friends… Learnt a little more, grew a little more… I’m sure I’m more mature than when I was 20…
I can’t wait to see what 22 is going to bring…
World without Boundaries
I decided to pen down this entry because of 3 year old Noyon… In case you don’t know who that is… It’s the housekeeper’s son…
Through our constant interactions over the past month, I think we’ve developed a certain understanding that does not involve language… After all, he doesn’t speak English… And I don’t speak Bangla… At least not enough to understand him…
So, whenever he talks to me, I don’t understand what he’s saying… but I understand his gestures… And when I respond accordingly, he gives this huge grin on his face… Like when he was jumping off the steps and wanted me to join him… After my first jump, he was so excited! Other times he asks me to play badminton with him or with his opponent because he wants to see how we play… I’m a real softie when it comes to kids… I give in everytime… I’ve played badminton and cricket with him and with anyone that he asks me to play with… It totally cracks him up when I lose…
I think he feels the same way about me too… Me and my expressions… He doesn’t know what I’m saying… But he knows exactly what I’m trying to tell him… Whenever I give him an instruction in English, he can figure out what I’m saying… Sometimes he does what I want him to do, other times he responds in the exact way that I don’t want him to... Little Rebel… Once the guys told him to hit me and I told him not to listen to them.. in English… He happily said to the others that he didn’t understand what I was saying cos he doesn’t understand English… And then he ran back to hit me! Come on… When a cheeky kids does that… It’s just an excuse to hit me in spite of what I’m telling him… he’s really smart at that…
Once, I bought him a skipping rope because I happened to see them hanging at a stall… He saw me coming back with shopping bags… And kept saying things… And pointing to the bags…When I took out the rope and gave it to him, he was elated! I could tell he did not expect to get anything for himself… He just wanted to see what was in the bag…
I do make an attempt to learn some Bangla to be able to give him some directions and say nice things to him… I’ve learnt to say “good boy” (bhalo cheyley), “sit down” (borsho), “come here” (ekhane asho), “well done” (shabash), “what are you doing?” (tumi ki kortey so?), “what’s that?” (eta ki?), “who’s that?” (eta kay?), “I love you” (ami tomake bhalobashi)… It helps…
Maybe he knows that I’m making an attempt to talk to him… Cos we’re much closer now than before… Sometimes he wouldn’t even let me get out of Pathshala because he wants me to play with him… It got really bad once when he bit my shawl and wouldn’t let go… Topu had to scold him to get him to release it… Poor baby…
He’s really dirty though… from playing in the dirt and not being grossed out by anything in the drains, on the road or anything… Never fails to get dirt on me… I get it by carrying him, hugging him, talking to him, standing near him, standing far away from him… His hands are really dirty and he puts everything into his mouth… It’s amazing how he never falls sick…
For the next few months I expect I will be playing a lot more with him… And probably buying him some more clothes and toys… From the looks of things, more clothes would be good or his clothes are going to get really tattered from his rough play and from constant washings… He has this nice blue jacket that is warm but can’t be zipped… (Speaking of jackets, once when I was wearing a jacket that wasn’t zipped, he came along, fitted the zip properly and zipped up my jacket for me! Is that adorable or what?)
Jessica calls Noyon her baby…But really… He’s everybody’s baby… The Pathshala students adore him, the Chitroshala people love him, and every foreigner that has stepped into the premises of Pathshala love him… This intern included…
“Noyon, Ami Tomake Bhalobashi”
Turning 22
It’s a strange thing… Having a birthday when you’re so far away from home… It feels different…
I got my first birthday sms at 10pm Dhaka time from my “mama”… (it was midnight at Singapore...) It came in while I was having cha with Mumit… One of the Pathshala guys… Yeah… It was really sweet… Thing is… Mumit’s birthday is the 6th… So, interestingly, we have the same birthday for about 2 hours!
So far, 22 hasn’t been too bad… I visited Mumit’s home just now… Cos he was going home and asked me if I wanted to come along… (They are all very hospitable) I got to have a bit of his birthday dinner! And I couldn’t help watching the telly… It was a hindi movie with Sharuk Khan… Good grief… He’s almost 40 but he was playing the cool/popular/good-looking teenager who gets the pretty girl… I hate to sound bimbo… But I actually found it quite fun to watch… The whole show is very colourful… And they always have the usual musical style thingy…
Before it was even close to my birthday, Bjorn gave me a pre-birthday celebration… We ran across the road to the baker… Bought two slices of cake… And ran back to Pathshala to eat them… No candles… No fuss… Just unbearably sweet cake… He even sang me a birthday song… “Happy Birthday to you Tomorrow”… That’s just like him…
He’s been really sweet to me since we got to know each other… Always the one to laugh with, and share every little silly confidence with… A very good natured and jovial person… Never takes offence at anything… He isn’t hiding anything either… He’s just honest… He plays the guitar too… When he found my guitar, he started playing it… And we even discovered songs that we both know and were singing at the top of our voices… Haha!
In honour of the Nightbird tradition, I went out at night… Just to look at how the streets were… I wasn’t alone… Topu came along… (They all have this impression that girls shouldn’t go anywhere alone… That’s how I ended up going to Mumit’s house too…) I was relating to him stories of the Night bird activities… And he looked at me and said… You miss home right?
Yeah… Maybe more than I have in a couple of weeks…
Things had not been going too well for me… I messed up my photo shoot that morning… I messed up the proposal for my reportage… I was messed up… Just this afternoon, I cried… because I’d felt so useless and so pathetic… I actually tried to stop myself from crying and force myself to concentrate on making the proposal right… Even smsed a neutral source to get a whacking (i.e. get the person to think clearly and rationalize with me that I’m wallowing in self-pity)…
The neutral source, although a kind of researcher, destroyed all stereotype that Engine students are thinkers... He was partial to crying and letting things out… I got that, and the floodgates opened… I should have called my “mama”…
It did some good though… The crying… Really felt a bit better… (And by God’s grace, the report is back on track…)
Listening to “Fly Away” now… A while back, the Nightbirds were always listening to Corrinne May’s album… Ivan and I really liked it and we wanted to educate Mark on the finer points of her music… It didn’t work… He doesn’t recognize her song titles, can’t recall any of the lyrics and still can’t tell if a song is sung by Corrinne May or otherwise…
There’s a certain quiet at night that just can’t be found at any other time… I’d learnt to feel it, breathe it, live in it and thrive in it… It clears my head, makes me sane… And it was a comfort… As it is right now… (Sounds like it could be a worship song to Jesus eh?)
If I was back home, what would I be doing?
Probably sleeping by now… But not before cutting my birthday cake at the stroke of midnight… Would have seen and used my new D70 a zillion times already… Would have had a lovely birthday cake (my choice), a birthday song, birthday card, surprise birthday gifts and birthday hugs and kisses… The way I celebrated my birthday for the past 21 years…
But I’m not home…
That’s why I just walked across the road to have chaffee (cha & coffee) with Mumit and Topu… Got punches(not hard) by the guys at the stroke of midnight… Joined Ovick in analyzing Jess’ pictures… (They’re still at it)… Tomorrow… Or rather, later today… I will be buying a birthday cake to share with all the Pathshala students on the rooftop… And I will be meeting my multimedia buddies for dinner when I can…
So my 22nd birthday is a little different from the past… But it seems like a turning point… From when I was a small island kid… To when I became an independent adult… Fending for herself at every turn… Not being too afraid to try anything… Most things anyway…
I once told Topu that I’m not afraid of anything… He was trying to intimidate me... (At least for cockroaches… Diya thinks I’m the bravest girl in the world because I whacked a cockroach at close range… She uses aerosol) Maybe I’m exaggerating with the whole "I'm not afraid of anything"… But then, I’m beginning to see it… A strength and courage I never knew I had before… Until I started to live here...
I think that perhaps in future, I would want to come back here again... To work, to live, and to learn something I can't learn in Singapore like photography and Bangla... Think this is going to upset my mum so I shall stop here now...
Think I’m getting too sentimental… Going to the rooftop to get some air…
