There is something just so Christmas Eve For A Five Year Old about the first morning in a place where you’re not quite sure what you’ll be getting for breakfast. And not in the “oh I wonder if it will be bacon and eggs or cereal and toast?” kind of way. More in the “do they even eat breakfast?” kind of way.
That’s exactly where I was about…oh, 48 hours or so ago. Since then not only have I eaten breakfast (roti and chilli fried vegetables with tumeric), but I’ve had a language lesson (salamalykum to you too), bought a salwar kameez (and my oh my, you should see those draw string pants), eaten more (curry), and sweated like a marathon runner 37kms into the Beijing Games event (how very cool I feel to finally have something in common with a marathon runner). All that and it’s not even Friday.
What I have learnt in Bangladesh so far:
Oh no, it’s not raining, that’s just sweat
It is hot. Humid and hot. And strange because the sun doesn’t exist here, or at least if it does it is keeping itself very, very well hidden behind this strange brownish haze. And everywhere you look (my forehead, my back, my legs, my feet..) I’m sweating. Luckily I’m still surrounded by westerners who have gross yet comforting (for me) spheres of sweat everywhere too. Somehow, though, I think this is just the beginning.
I’m not in the lucky country anymore
Bangladesh is, hands down, the poorest country I’ve ever been to. My hotel is in the ‘nice’ part of town and unless I had someone to point out the obvious signs of this like a local KFC store, (though strangely without the slogan ‘finger lickn’ good’?!) and an ice cream shop (just to torture me, I’m sure), I would never have guessed this.
Now before you say it, I was expecting this, but somehow it’s just so hard to actually get a grip on this until you’re walking down Bangladesh’s equivalent of George St or Pitt St and you’ve got a brand new Toyota driving past on the left, while to the right there are rickshaw wallahs in thongs four sizes too big throwing their rubbish on piles being sorted through by women, children, or beggars, and you’re picking your way over a mix of dirt/concrete/rubbish footpaths while squinting in the glare reflecting off brand new apartment blocks which have A-class views of the river slums.
Every day is a fat day!
The women, when you can find them through the maze of ubiquitous men, look beautiful. The salwar kameez (long top over wide drawstring pants) and saris in bright colours are stunning, and flattering. No more muffin top or butt crack sightings on girls without friends for me!! (I know they have no friends because there is no way I would let one of my lovely friends outside the front door in anything which would cause such distress to others). And today (and tomorrow, and the next day, and…) I get to wear one too. Which is lucky indeed, considering what happens to my belly after eating.
That’s not a bean, that’s a chilli!
Speaking of eating, the food has been simply scrumptious for a fussy lactose-intolerant vegetarian. My biggest problem has been deciding between the mixed vegetable curry, dahl, eggplant, roti, naan etc etc etc… But it seems I have met my match in terms of spice. Yesterday, after greedily shoving one last ‘bean’ into my mouth, I was left coughing, spluttering, and reaching for the nearest forms of cool liquid I could find (pineapple juice, water… NO DIET COKE!!!!). That mysterious bean was the hottest thing I have ever eaten. I now consider myself forewarned.
Wonderful things that have happened to me
A fellow volunteer (cheers Matt!) gave up a precious brand spanking new toothbrush for yours truly even though in a couple of months time he could have traded it for gold, or maybe even some gin.
Not so wonderful things that have happened to me
my very lovely and sweet smelling Jean Paul Gaultier perfume leaked all through my toiletries (yes, the toothbrush too, but you’d already guessed this, hadn’t you?) and my hotel room now smells like a strange combination between the Myer perfume counter and a fifteen year old’s school jumper after a lousy yet concerted attempt to disguise the telltale signs of cigarette smoke from the closest Responsible Adult. And yes, I am pointedly ignoring the obvious cosmic universe sign that I was kidding myself when I brought it in the first place.
...and I have the flu. At least I hope it's the flu, and has nothing to do with the new mozzie bite I'm sporting on my elbow...
Most useful word/phrase I have learnt today
Apart from ‘hello’, which goes without saying, I reckon it’s going to be:
“map korun, ami beshi bangla bujhi na” – excuse me, I don’t understand Bangla
though “ami mansho khii na” – I don’t eat meat, comes in at a close second.
(*yes, this is plagiarism, but I’m hoping my favourite bands won’t mind my blatant ripping off of their songs for my blog titles considering it’s pure devotion which is leading to such behaviour. Robert, Thom, et al. I’m sorry in advance, but not sorry enough to stop).
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
3 comments:
Well, you sound as if you are having a fantastic time already... and let's face it, who doesn't relish the memory of our first encounter with too much chilli.
My unfortunate incident occurred at the age of about 7 when for some reason, which escapes me at this moment, I got out of the bath and picked up the tea towel that was sitting on the hamper to dry my um... delicates, which, unbeknownst to me at the time, my Dad had used to wipe his hands after chopping up VERY hot chilli! The tea towel, not my delicates.
Well there were tears, lots of them (in fact my eyes water at the very memory of it all) and recriminations and I am scarred by the memory. Understandably.
Any way, keep up the blog, we are all very interested about this new life you have made for yourself.
Happy days
L
xox
I think the JPG leaking is actually the universe's comment on the uneven and unpredictable "spill" of Luxury Western Culture on developing communities.
Or, you know, bad luck.
Fell better soon!
Wow Lyrian - you don't need to post photos, you paint an amazing picture of your new life!!! Yvette XX
Post a Comment