Some Bangladeshis helped me find my next bus--a local one--and I continued on to Jessore. My first impression of Bangladesh was of how surprisingly green it is--the rice paddies are an almost neon green! Waiting for the bus to stop at Jessore, I became suddenly aware of my inability to speak Bangla and the inability of everyone on the bus to speak English. Somehow, I managed to get off at Jessore, find a phone and call Mizan, my uncle Mike's friend and my host in Bangladesh. Mike had sent him my picture so he would know what I looked like, but as the photograph also had my uncle's ex-girlfriend in it, Mizan was somewhat confused as to who I would be. I laughed at this though, because obviously I would be the only white face, and so the photograph was entirely unnecessary.
Khulna and Mizan's Family (October 3-4)
Mizan and I take another local bus to his mother and father's home in Khulna (Khulna Division). It is night, and we are greeted by his little nephew, who presents me with a card he has made. On the front it reads: "Happy Welcome!" and inside, "bengal tigers." There is the the top of a rose taped on for decoration. He has a torch and lights our way to the house, where I am shown the room in which I am to stay.
Mizan's entire family is here because the previous day was Eid, the Muslim holiday which celebrates the breaking of the Ramadan fast. Bangladeshis throughout the country return to their family homes to celebrate, making transportation arrangements quite precarious for a week or so. I meet his mother, older brother and his wife and daughter, older sister and her husband, and Mizan's wife Shobnam. "Take rest," they all tell me. I am exhausted and glad their limited English means I won't have to talk too much. I lie down on my bed, and notice that Shobnam remains on the chair opposite the bed. I tell her she can leave, but she insists on waiting until I fall asleep. When the power goes out, she fans me with her own arms. I wake up in the middle of the night and find food they have left me.
The next day I wake up and can't eat much. I am sick all day, probably from the hotel food I ate when I first arrived in Jessore. I rest all day and Mizan and Shobnam take me to a doctor that night. The Sunderbans tour Mizan had planned for that day is canceled. This turns out to be only the first in a series of illnesses that plague my Bangladesh journey. Luckily, I have contacts here and people who can care for me.
In addition to allopathic medication, I am encouraged to drink coconut water to help regain my strength and avoid dehydration. This is my introduction to the coconut, which the Indians refer to as "food of the gods," and whose sweet, energizing water and fruit I am thankful for each sweltering day. There are "many ways to cure and many foods to eat" here in Bangladesh, Shobnam says, on showing me mango chutney, which helps with dizziness. One day, when Mizan and I are in the National Museum looking at specimens of Bengali flora, he tells me, a little embarrassed, that when a British leader first came here, he complained he couldn't take a piss anywhere outside, lest he dirty some medicinal plant. A very practical people, Bengalis have traditionally relied on the healing properties of the many plants naturally available to them.
The Sunderbans, Mizan tells me, are winning in an online poll of the "new 7 wonders of the world." The other Bangladeshi attraction in the race for this title is Cox's Bazaar, the world's longest beach. The Sunderbans, translated as "beautiful jungle/forest," is the world's largest block of "tidal halophytic mangrove," according to Wikipedia. The forest lies at the mouth of the Ganges River and is spread through both Bangladesh and West Bengal, India, forming the seaward fringe of the delta. The forest in each country is considered a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The topography of the Sunderbans is a combination of tidal waterways, mudflats and small islands of salt-tolerant mangrove forests. It provides critical protection to life and property of the coastal populations in cyclone-prone Bangladesh. Among its animals are crocodiles, spotted deer and the Royal Bengal Tiger, of which there are about 500. These are a threat to the bee farmers who collect honey in the forest.
Jhalakathi and Shobnam's Family (October 5-7)
Mizan, Shobnam and I take a local bus, then ferry, and then bus to her family's home in Jhalakathi (Barisal Division). I meet Shobnam's mother, father and two younger sisters, Ripa and Suha, who is the youngest. Again, I am thankful that they encourage me, "take rest." Over the course of my stay here I also meet Shobnam's mother's mother and her father's mother and father. Here is a picture of Shobnam's family. (Back row, left-right: mother, father, Suha, me, father's mother and father's father. Front row, left-right: Shobnam and Ripa.)
The next day is rainy. I have never appreciated rain so much. With rain comes about a day of cool air, a break from the usual sweltering heat of Bangladesh. At night we go to Shobnam's uncle's home, as he has requested us to do so because Mizan has never been able to visit. For the first three years of their marriage, Mizan was working abroad in Dubai. Now, although they have been married about 4 years, it seems Mizan and Shobnam are finally living together for the first time. Mizan's title to all of Shobnam's family is "new older brother," and he will keep this title for the rest of his life, as per tradition. The uncle serves a lavish dinner with at least 5 courses. I don't eat much as most of the courses involve meat or fish, but I am amazed at how much Mizan and Shobnam are able to eat. They do so out of duty to her uncle. I learn later that Mizan wasn't actually eating so much, but secretly shoveling off food to Shobnam. As a guest in Bangladesh, you have to know how to eat just enough so that when your host offers you more, you are able to stuff more food in your belly until you absolutely cannot. Then you must refuse, with assertion, and perhaps a defensive gesture of the hand, covering your plate. Mizan, Shobnam, Shobnam's cousins and I go on a short boat ride as the sun is setting. Despite growing up in a country saturated with ponds and rivers, most of the girls don't know how to swim and are a bit scared. I, however, stand at the front of the boat. "You are so brave," Shobnam says. After the boat ride we return for even more food (fried noodle and egg). We return by cycle rickshaw to Shobnam's family home. I read and write in my bedroom and try to learn a little Bangla from Suha, but the only word I am able to absorb is "bujina" ("I don't understand"). Here is a picture of little Suha, my teacher:
Here is Ripa (left) and her cousin:
The next day, Mizan and I take the launch to Dhaka. I thought Shobnam would be coming with us, but at the last minute discover she will be staying about 10 more days with her family. As it is the Eid holiday, bus and launch tickets are very hard to reserve, and anyway, she wants to stay longer with her family, whom she hasn't seen in awhile.
Here is a picture of me on the launch:
Indeed, the launch is packed with people heading from their family homes back to Dhaka. People are laying out squares of cloth to sleep on the deck. One man has a chicken and ties him up at the front of the boat. Mizan could only get a ticket for one cabin, and so I sleep on the bed and he sleeps on the hard floor. The night is beautiful, the sky clear, the stars peeking through the darkness that surrounds us on all sides. Occasionally we see the lamp of a fishing boat or the green leaves of trees floating by. Mizan sings a song about water and I try to learn.
Here is a picture of a launch at Shadarghat port, Dhaka:
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