I think I might make the thoughts I have while riding my bicycle a blog post more often (I love how Canadians pronounce the word often).
This morning my thoughts actually revolved around the bicycle and how it relates to people. When I got my bicycle this morning the guard pointed out that my front tire was flat. You may recall my last difficulties with a flat tire and how the experience was not so pleasant. So I prepared for the 2.5km walk to the nearest bicycle stand. On my way I passed through the village I live in and decided just to say hi to people as I passed. I saw one particularly old man and gave him a very respectful "A salam walaykum" which is a Muslim greeting which translates as "I wish you peace." He then asked me what was wrong with my bicycle. I told him the front tire was flat and showed him by pressing it down. He then told me to follow him and lead me to a house. They brought me a pump and I pumped my tire up. I then offered to pay the lady of the house for the use of the pump but she wouldn't take it. So put shortly, one polite greeting saved me a long walk and saved me 2 taka. I thanked both people profusely and then went on my way to work.
Later on my way to work I realized another fascinating thing about my bicycle. How cultures view their personal space changes how you ride a bicycle and how other people on the street treat you. In Bangladesh you constantly ride within a few feet or even inches (if at a slow speed) of people or other traffic. No one flinches or feels violated by this. If I tried doing this in the US I'd have people yelling at me for being crazy and trying to kill them even if it was at slow speeds people would at least flinch. It is recognized here that as long as you don't hit people, there is no harm done and all you are trying to do is get where you are going. Even more compelling for my argument is that often times people will purposely give you no more room than you need to get through here. It forces you to get somewhat comfortable with the system. I kind of like that aspect when I'm on a bicycle in Bangladesh but I must admit that I don't particularly like the fact that it applies for buses as well.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Cambodia
I'm back. Did you miss me?
Cambodia is an interesting place. We flew in to Phnom Penh (the capital) on the afternoon of the 20th after a 1 night layover in Malaysia. We took off from there straight to Sihanoukville which is a city on the coast. The first things I noticed were how much people use motorcycles in Cambodia and that they drive on the same side of the road as Americans. It was also very obvious how few people live in Cambodia as compared to Bangladesh. I just looked up the numbers and it appears that about 15 million people live in Cambodia. That is just slightly more than the number of people who live in Dhaka alone. Cambodia is also slightly bigger than Bangladesh.
Our bus broke down on the way to Sihanoukville and so we had to wait 2 hours for another one to come get us. Andy and Lana (the leaders of MCC in Cambodia) joked with us about the fact that none of us even came close to complaining about this inconvenience. The said that we would probably have complained if things had actually gone as planned. What ended up happening was that once Daniel realized that there were Mangoes outside at the stands he went out and started bartering despite the fact that he didn't know the language or have any local currency. Somehow he still managed to work out a good deal and got some money from Any and Lana. Then of course he wanted to eat it but didn't have a knife. Luckily the shop people were really nice and cut it up for him. We ended up exchanging some language lessons with them before they brought us some chairs to sit in. We then spent the next bit of time chatting and enjoying the evening.
The next 4 days or so were spent at the Orchidee Guest House. The days started out with a continental breakfast at the guest house. This is complete with fresh baked bread every morning. That's a good way to start the morning. We followed that up with a worship time led by Nate. We then finished off the mornings with Andy and Lana leading us in a journey of reflection and learning. We talked about what experiences have shaped us and made us who we are. Then we talked about our Myers-Briggs types. This lead into how we deal with each other and how we deal with our environment around us. It was very helpful but also led us to some challenging questions. We followed up those sessions with a lunch of traditional Cambodian food. It turns out that Cambodians don't use much spice in their foods. Instead they tend to have a lot of fruit flavorings. Lots of lemon, pineapple, and coconut. This is mixed in with a variety of meats like pork, chicken, and all sorts of fish. I thought it was all pretty good but actually prefer spicy foods to fruity foods. In the afternoons we had free time to do as we please. For me this meant a trip to the market, kayaking, snorkeling around a coral reef, and some frisbee on the beach. Then each evening we got together for supper at local restaurants. We varied the foods up and had things like grilled seafood, pancakes, and local cuisine. The pancakes were absolutely amazing. Supper would usually last a couple of hours due to chatting and then we would all go back and hang out at the hotel for a bit before bed.
Finally we returned to Phnom Penh to see the MCC office and meet the staff. We had lunch with all the expats working in Cambodia. One of the older workers was a guy I took one look at and just knew he had to be from central Illinios. There was something about his ears and facial structure that I recognized. Of course I was right. He had even gone to Bluffton as well where he met his wife who was from Pandora, OH. After lunch we went to visit some of MCC Cambodia's handicrafts partners and a local marketplace. I bought some gifts for some people but I won't ruin the surprise by saying who or what. That evening we had supper at a nice Cambodian restaurant which served the meal in courses. They had a very interesting tea which I'll probably post a picture of me drinking later (it looks like I've got something other than tea but I promise you it is only tea).
The next day a group of us went to the Tuol Sleng genocide museum. I would rate that experience as even more of a gut check than the Holocaust museum in Washington DC was. I think the thing that put it over the top was the fact that our guide talked about how half her family was killed before she and her mother escaped to a refugee camp in Vietnam. This combined with their brutal methods was pretty intense. You can read a general talk about what happened here.
After the museum trip we all got drenched by a thunderstorm. We then had lunch at Andy and Lana's house before we broke up and went our separate ways. For me this meant that I began my journey back to Bangladesh.
Overall, I really enjoyed the trip. It was my first time outside of the Bangladesh, India, Nepal region in 17 months. It was interesting to get a glimpse of western culture and how I'll respond to it when I travel to the states next month. I have developed some habits in Bangladesh and they are amusing to combat in certain situations. I'll try to follow this up with some stories of individual events that happened on the trip but won't promise that I get around to it.
Cambodia is an interesting place. We flew in to Phnom Penh (the capital) on the afternoon of the 20th after a 1 night layover in Malaysia. We took off from there straight to Sihanoukville which is a city on the coast. The first things I noticed were how much people use motorcycles in Cambodia and that they drive on the same side of the road as Americans. It was also very obvious how few people live in Cambodia as compared to Bangladesh. I just looked up the numbers and it appears that about 15 million people live in Cambodia. That is just slightly more than the number of people who live in Dhaka alone. Cambodia is also slightly bigger than Bangladesh.
Our bus broke down on the way to Sihanoukville and so we had to wait 2 hours for another one to come get us. Andy and Lana (the leaders of MCC in Cambodia) joked with us about the fact that none of us even came close to complaining about this inconvenience. The said that we would probably have complained if things had actually gone as planned. What ended up happening was that once Daniel realized that there were Mangoes outside at the stands he went out and started bartering despite the fact that he didn't know the language or have any local currency. Somehow he still managed to work out a good deal and got some money from Any and Lana. Then of course he wanted to eat it but didn't have a knife. Luckily the shop people were really nice and cut it up for him. We ended up exchanging some language lessons with them before they brought us some chairs to sit in. We then spent the next bit of time chatting and enjoying the evening.
The next 4 days or so were spent at the Orchidee Guest House. The days started out with a continental breakfast at the guest house. This is complete with fresh baked bread every morning. That's a good way to start the morning. We followed that up with a worship time led by Nate. We then finished off the mornings with Andy and Lana leading us in a journey of reflection and learning. We talked about what experiences have shaped us and made us who we are. Then we talked about our Myers-Briggs types. This lead into how we deal with each other and how we deal with our environment around us. It was very helpful but also led us to some challenging questions. We followed up those sessions with a lunch of traditional Cambodian food. It turns out that Cambodians don't use much spice in their foods. Instead they tend to have a lot of fruit flavorings. Lots of lemon, pineapple, and coconut. This is mixed in with a variety of meats like pork, chicken, and all sorts of fish. I thought it was all pretty good but actually prefer spicy foods to fruity foods. In the afternoons we had free time to do as we please. For me this meant a trip to the market, kayaking, snorkeling around a coral reef, and some frisbee on the beach. Then each evening we got together for supper at local restaurants. We varied the foods up and had things like grilled seafood, pancakes, and local cuisine. The pancakes were absolutely amazing. Supper would usually last a couple of hours due to chatting and then we would all go back and hang out at the hotel for a bit before bed.
Finally we returned to Phnom Penh to see the MCC office and meet the staff. We had lunch with all the expats working in Cambodia. One of the older workers was a guy I took one look at and just knew he had to be from central Illinios. There was something about his ears and facial structure that I recognized. Of course I was right. He had even gone to Bluffton as well where he met his wife who was from Pandora, OH. After lunch we went to visit some of MCC Cambodia's handicrafts partners and a local marketplace. I bought some gifts for some people but I won't ruin the surprise by saying who or what. That evening we had supper at a nice Cambodian restaurant which served the meal in courses. They had a very interesting tea which I'll probably post a picture of me drinking later (it looks like I've got something other than tea but I promise you it is only tea).
The next day a group of us went to the Tuol Sleng genocide museum. I would rate that experience as even more of a gut check than the Holocaust museum in Washington DC was. I think the thing that put it over the top was the fact that our guide talked about how half her family was killed before she and her mother escaped to a refugee camp in Vietnam. This combined with their brutal methods was pretty intense. You can read a general talk about what happened here.
After the museum trip we all got drenched by a thunderstorm. We then had lunch at Andy and Lana's house before we broke up and went our separate ways. For me this meant that I began my journey back to Bangladesh.
Overall, I really enjoyed the trip. It was my first time outside of the Bangladesh, India, Nepal region in 17 months. It was interesting to get a glimpse of western culture and how I'll respond to it when I travel to the states next month. I have developed some habits in Bangladesh and they are amusing to combat in certain situations. I'll try to follow this up with some stories of individual events that happened on the trip but won't promise that I get around to it.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
MIGHTY MOUSE!!!
I finally got to go to the circus this past week. That has nothing to do with the title. It's just a statement of fact. Unfortunately, they did not have the tight rope walking goat. They did have a goat that walked up to a small platform and then turned around on it. Overall, it was worth the less than a dollar that we paid to for a 2.5 hour show but disappointed me because of its lack of use of animals. They had an elephant that kicked a soccer ball and they rolled out some cages with a small bear as well as some sort of cat for about 30 seconds. That was all the animals they ended up having. I'm pretty sure the amateur circus in Peru is better, but I can't say for sure because I've never been to it despite having grown up there.
I'll be going to Cambodia next week. I'll also be playing the Mennonite Game. It turns out that the couple who is coordinating with us to help lead our trip has family who goes to my brother's church. On top of that, the wife's mother is my brother's next door neighbor and her sister is in my brother's Sunday school class. I also have connections to meet up with Keith Graber-Miller who grew up in my home church. It should be a good time, lol. The trip itself is a 1 week retreat for those of us in Bangladesh with MCC. We are going to spend some needed time away from Bangladesh but also see a program that does some similar work. We will also do some things like swimming and probably getting sun burns as well. All this is to say, I don't know if I'll have a post up next week. I've gotten pretty irregular lately anyway so I suppose you won't be too put out.
Finally, what you've all been waiting for. Mighty Mouse. Reason #51 why I love Bangladesh. Because there are so many people here, you often see people who have faces that remind you of people you know back in the U.S. Well this morning on the way to work I saw a man who looked like Mighty Mouse. I was pretty amazed that such a man existed and thankful that I got to witness such a humorous thing. I also saw a man who slightly looked like Gomer Pyle but it wasn't as strong as Mighty Mouse was.
The simple pleasures, you need to cherish them sometimes.
I'll be going to Cambodia next week. I'll also be playing the Mennonite Game. It turns out that the couple who is coordinating with us to help lead our trip has family who goes to my brother's church. On top of that, the wife's mother is my brother's next door neighbor and her sister is in my brother's Sunday school class. I also have connections to meet up with Keith Graber-Miller who grew up in my home church. It should be a good time, lol. The trip itself is a 1 week retreat for those of us in Bangladesh with MCC. We are going to spend some needed time away from Bangladesh but also see a program that does some similar work. We will also do some things like swimming and probably getting sun burns as well. All this is to say, I don't know if I'll have a post up next week. I've gotten pretty irregular lately anyway so I suppose you won't be too put out.
Finally, what you've all been waiting for. Mighty Mouse. Reason #51 why I love Bangladesh. Because there are so many people here, you often see people who have faces that remind you of people you know back in the U.S. Well this morning on the way to work I saw a man who looked like Mighty Mouse. I was pretty amazed that such a man existed and thankful that I got to witness such a humorous thing. I also saw a man who slightly looked like Gomer Pyle but it wasn't as strong as Mighty Mouse was.
The simple pleasures, you need to cherish them sometimes.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Thoughts are an odd thing...
I thought I had posted once about 9 days ago. It turns out I was wrong, it was more than 9 days ago, and so I got some healthy reminders from multiple sources telling me that I need to blog. Being an appeaser, I'll fill you in on the strange and unusual life I've lived in the past couple of weeks.
I've been reading a prayer book that a friend sent me. It's been wonderful having a short but poignant something to look forward to reading every day. It has also been a wonderful thing for giving me fodder to think about on my 25-30 minute bike rides to work. Ben (the Canadian SALT'er) and I were just having a conversation about how much time we have to think about odd things on that bike ride. We had both ended up writing poems. I didn't write mine down and I'm not going to as it wasn't very good unless you have the acting that goes along with selling like one of those beat poets (by the way, I just realized that I've never actually seen a beat poet unless you count Jeff Gundy at faculty follies or some similar event). My poem was about the lorry (sp?) trucks that you see all painted up and carrying ridiculous loads here. It came about because was riding past one as it parked on the side of the road and I could hear it creaking as it settled in under it's heavy load. As is often the case, the truck in my poem crashes and the driver flees/dies (depending on the version) but, because this is Bangladesh (and therefore nothing can go to waste) the owner fixes the truck up. It goes back on the road and the whole process starts again. In retrospect, my poem is mostly depressing and makes me feel bad for the trucks. That said, I've also pondered what would happen if you tried firing a shotgun while riding a bicycle as well as how accepting diminishing marginal utility would affect how we view indifference curves. All this is to say that what I ponder on that bicycle is a strange spectrum.
Speaking of that bicycle, I've had requests that I share a story of something that happened to me this past week while I was on it.
The moon wasn't out a couple of nights this past week and as a result I couldn't see to well on those nights. On this night in particular I was riding down a dark alley with brick houses on one side and a brick wall on the other (it was really a pretty creepy setting to begin with). I saw a group of adults on the right side and another group on the left side. There was about 6 of them and the gap between them was about 4-6ft. I decided to ride between them like normal but at last second my worst nightmares were realized. No, they didn't mug me if that is what you think I was about to say, no in my opinion mugging would have been less heart rendering and unbearable because at last second a toddler came bursting out of the group on the right running towards the group on the left right in front of me. I didn't have much reaction time and the best I was able to manage was to slam on the brakes. Unfortunately, my steel bike, my laden book bag, and myself all carry a lot of momentum on a bike (especially one with poor brakes to begin with). So I hit the kid. Not just tap mind you, I've done the rough math in my head, with all that gear I was probably 6-10 times as heavy as that kid so even a small amount of speed carries a significant transfer of energy as my momentum is slammed into his. I walloped that poor child pretty solid. I don't think I actually ran him over but somehow he ended up between my tires. That was about the moment when the "banshee" yells started. By "banshee" yells I'm of course talking about the child's mother or female relative that was supposed to be watching this kid. She was soon joined in by a chorus of about 30 people who materialized out of nowhere all of whom were screaming and shouting. I have never seen so many people appear out of no where so fast in my life. It took them about 20-30 seconds to assemble. The men grabbed me to keep me from fleeing the scene (this grabbing is a customary reaction as is the customary reaction of fleeing when you do hit someone). If you kill someone and the mob manages to grab you before you get away then they basically beat you immediately on the spot which is probably why the tradition of fleeing started. Luckily, I didn't kill this child but he was crying and they didn't know the extent of the injuries because we were in a dark alley with no lights on, so they took him to a house with a light. The mob moved along with them and I with the mob. I'm lucky that I am someone that is calm under pressure. I never freaked out during all of this. While they were looking at the kid I was explaining (with my poor but adequate Bangla) to those interviewing me what happened. Once they realized that it was an accident, I wasn't lying, I was concerned about the child, and that I was foreigner they began to get a lot less hostile. They told me to wait and once they had sufficiently checked out the child and ascertained that I apparently didn't do too much damage they let me go. I wanted to see if I'd done much damage but I figured I shouldn't push my luck with an angry mother whose child was still crying around. It has been my past learning that angry mothers don't always think about everything clearly when their child is crying so I did what they said and started riding.
Not more than 100 yards down the road I was overwhelmed with a surreal experience. I had just hit a small child in a dark alley, an angry mob had formed, and here I was less than 5 minutes later and no farther than 100 yards away in a well lit intersection with a bunch of people going about normal life with no clue what had just happened or more specifically what I had done. I could extrapolate on how this same thing happens to us all the time but it is not my intention to be philosophical with this so I won't.
I haven't been back to check on the child yet. I want to go but figure it is best to give the incident some time to mend itself before returning. My boss told me that they will likely try to extort money out of me if I do go back and he advised against it. I personally feel terrible about hitting the child and think going back would help my own mental stability while helping to foster a better understanding of western mindsets for the local people. I could be wrong though, maybe I'll go back and my boss will be right. Maybe they will just see this as a chance to try to pry some money out of me. I'm resolute about the fact that I'm not giving them money but I imagine that could be a situation in which dealing with their demands is mentally tasking. This is Bangladesh though and I would suspect that everyone here has their fair share of mental burdens to deal with.
Also in relevance to this situation, I've had several people tell me that I shouldn't be allowed around small children anymore. That would be terrible thing for me to deal with. I love small children. I'm terribly mean to them (usually I stick to torturing their minds) and they usually love it (with a few exceptions such as the one above). I guess what I'm trying to say is, please give me a little grace on this one. Your child and I want to torment each other with glee. ;-)
With that, I'll leave you to deal with your own odd thoughts.
I've been reading a prayer book that a friend sent me. It's been wonderful having a short but poignant something to look forward to reading every day. It has also been a wonderful thing for giving me fodder to think about on my 25-30 minute bike rides to work. Ben (the Canadian SALT'er) and I were just having a conversation about how much time we have to think about odd things on that bike ride. We had both ended up writing poems. I didn't write mine down and I'm not going to as it wasn't very good unless you have the acting that goes along with selling like one of those beat poets (by the way, I just realized that I've never actually seen a beat poet unless you count Jeff Gundy at faculty follies or some similar event). My poem was about the lorry (sp?) trucks that you see all painted up and carrying ridiculous loads here. It came about because was riding past one as it parked on the side of the road and I could hear it creaking as it settled in under it's heavy load. As is often the case, the truck in my poem crashes and the driver flees/dies (depending on the version) but, because this is Bangladesh (and therefore nothing can go to waste) the owner fixes the truck up. It goes back on the road and the whole process starts again. In retrospect, my poem is mostly depressing and makes me feel bad for the trucks. That said, I've also pondered what would happen if you tried firing a shotgun while riding a bicycle as well as how accepting diminishing marginal utility would affect how we view indifference curves. All this is to say that what I ponder on that bicycle is a strange spectrum.
Speaking of that bicycle, I've had requests that I share a story of something that happened to me this past week while I was on it.
The moon wasn't out a couple of nights this past week and as a result I couldn't see to well on those nights. On this night in particular I was riding down a dark alley with brick houses on one side and a brick wall on the other (it was really a pretty creepy setting to begin with). I saw a group of adults on the right side and another group on the left side. There was about 6 of them and the gap between them was about 4-6ft. I decided to ride between them like normal but at last second my worst nightmares were realized. No, they didn't mug me if that is what you think I was about to say, no in my opinion mugging would have been less heart rendering and unbearable because at last second a toddler came bursting out of the group on the right running towards the group on the left right in front of me. I didn't have much reaction time and the best I was able to manage was to slam on the brakes. Unfortunately, my steel bike, my laden book bag, and myself all carry a lot of momentum on a bike (especially one with poor brakes to begin with). So I hit the kid. Not just tap mind you, I've done the rough math in my head, with all that gear I was probably 6-10 times as heavy as that kid so even a small amount of speed carries a significant transfer of energy as my momentum is slammed into his. I walloped that poor child pretty solid. I don't think I actually ran him over but somehow he ended up between my tires. That was about the moment when the "banshee" yells started. By "banshee" yells I'm of course talking about the child's mother or female relative that was supposed to be watching this kid. She was soon joined in by a chorus of about 30 people who materialized out of nowhere all of whom were screaming and shouting. I have never seen so many people appear out of no where so fast in my life. It took them about 20-30 seconds to assemble. The men grabbed me to keep me from fleeing the scene (this grabbing is a customary reaction as is the customary reaction of fleeing when you do hit someone). If you kill someone and the mob manages to grab you before you get away then they basically beat you immediately on the spot which is probably why the tradition of fleeing started. Luckily, I didn't kill this child but he was crying and they didn't know the extent of the injuries because we were in a dark alley with no lights on, so they took him to a house with a light. The mob moved along with them and I with the mob. I'm lucky that I am someone that is calm under pressure. I never freaked out during all of this. While they were looking at the kid I was explaining (with my poor but adequate Bangla) to those interviewing me what happened. Once they realized that it was an accident, I wasn't lying, I was concerned about the child, and that I was foreigner they began to get a lot less hostile. They told me to wait and once they had sufficiently checked out the child and ascertained that I apparently didn't do too much damage they let me go. I wanted to see if I'd done much damage but I figured I shouldn't push my luck with an angry mother whose child was still crying around. It has been my past learning that angry mothers don't always think about everything clearly when their child is crying so I did what they said and started riding.
Not more than 100 yards down the road I was overwhelmed with a surreal experience. I had just hit a small child in a dark alley, an angry mob had formed, and here I was less than 5 minutes later and no farther than 100 yards away in a well lit intersection with a bunch of people going about normal life with no clue what had just happened or more specifically what I had done. I could extrapolate on how this same thing happens to us all the time but it is not my intention to be philosophical with this so I won't.
I haven't been back to check on the child yet. I want to go but figure it is best to give the incident some time to mend itself before returning. My boss told me that they will likely try to extort money out of me if I do go back and he advised against it. I personally feel terrible about hitting the child and think going back would help my own mental stability while helping to foster a better understanding of western mindsets for the local people. I could be wrong though, maybe I'll go back and my boss will be right. Maybe they will just see this as a chance to try to pry some money out of me. I'm resolute about the fact that I'm not giving them money but I imagine that could be a situation in which dealing with their demands is mentally tasking. This is Bangladesh though and I would suspect that everyone here has their fair share of mental burdens to deal with.
Also in relevance to this situation, I've had several people tell me that I shouldn't be allowed around small children anymore. That would be terrible thing for me to deal with. I love small children. I'm terribly mean to them (usually I stick to torturing their minds) and they usually love it (with a few exceptions such as the one above). I guess what I'm trying to say is, please give me a little grace on this one. Your child and I want to torment each other with glee. ;-)
With that, I'll leave you to deal with your own odd thoughts.
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