Today was the school picnic (without the picnic.. I don't get it either). Everyone had the school day off so that we could go for a hike and play games. We started at 8:30 with a little “hike” (which is impossible in Bangladesh because it is so flat) to the Ghara School. I was with the third graders and we got there about 10 min before anyone else, so we decided to walk through the village behind the school. The kids took me directly to the “Freedom Fighter’s” house and the next thing I know I was taking my shoes off and stepping onto his dirt floor. The floor was surprisingly smooth and when I lowered my head to walk into the living room I was surprised to see a mud hut so comfortable looking. The walls were covered with pictures and there was a table in the corner with a sketchy light system on it (wires everywhere). There was a door to my right and I had to lower my head yet again to enter into the next room and that is where I saw the freedom fighter sitting on his bed. He was so excited to see me and made me sit down on his couch with the 10 children around me.
The Freedom Fighter was a man that fought when Pakistan was trying to force Bangladesh to accept their culture. Pakistan had crossed over India and had begun to murder all the educated people in Bangladesh (about 1 million people were killed). Bangladesh hasn’t recovered since this tragic event, which explains why all the people have so little knowledge of things that we deem as “common sense,” they were basically put back in the dark ages. The freedom fighter fought in 1971 for the countries independence. I’m not sure what happened but he cannot walk without a cane and someone helping him. He speaks English very well but it is still hard to understand what he’s talking about; he’s kind of crazy. Once he begins to talk about his story he doesn’t really stop. I practically had to walk out of his house in the middle of his talking because he wouldn’t listen to me when I said I had to leave. He’s a very nice fellow though.
When we got back to the campus Lauren, Papri, and I went in side the cafeteria to blow up a few balloons for the games that we were going to play. The Balloons smelled funny and were made in Bangladesh; I’m sure that blowing them up will give me cancer because of the smelly toxins but it was worth it to see the kids get so excited. A caregiver was helping us and every time a balloon would pop she would laugh so hard and all the kitchen workers would jump back. Bani walked in with spicy rice and dhal and Lauren and I wanted to try it. We ate like the typical Bangladeshi’s and used the silverware that God gave us: our hands. The Bengali people eat so gracefully with their hands while Lauren and I got it everywhere as we tipped our heads back and let the spicy food fall into our open mouths. After they saw that we enjoyed the food they wanted us to try the caregivers food. It was a spicy curry with potatoes and eggplant. Papri just sat there picking out the potatoes and laughing at Lauren because she didn’t like how spicy the food was. I’m beginning to get use to the spicy food that they make for the caregivers; it is actually enjoyable now. Tomorrow Shati is going to teach us how to make Dahl so that I can make it for my family when I get home.
When we went back outside the kids were bobbing for apples and playing various other games with the balloons that we had blown up. They got special treats such as this colorful rice pasta that was fried. I thought it was flavorless but the kids thought it was a real treat. They also received a piece of chocolate and many of them wanted to give me their candy even though they rarely get any. They are so selfless.
After the games were done the kids began to watch a cartoon in Bangla and Lauren, Bani, Heather, Kerri, and I went into town to pick up our Shari blouses that were being tailored and to pay for our internet. While in town we saw the cow and goat market that is getting ready for the holiday coming up next week. It is a Muslim holiday where they kill the old cows and give away the meat to the poor people. We won’t be going into town next week because all the stores will be closed and we also don’t want to see dead cows everywhere (I’m vegetarian for a reason). Thank goodness the villagers around us are Hindu so they don’t participate in the holiday.
Right now I feel too exhausted to type anymore. Just know…
that today was just a very good day.
The Freedom Fighter was a man that fought when Pakistan was trying to force Bangladesh to accept their culture. Pakistan had crossed over India and had begun to murder all the educated people in Bangladesh (about 1 million people were killed). Bangladesh hasn’t recovered since this tragic event, which explains why all the people have so little knowledge of things that we deem as “common sense,” they were basically put back in the dark ages. The freedom fighter fought in 1971 for the countries independence. I’m not sure what happened but he cannot walk without a cane and someone helping him. He speaks English very well but it is still hard to understand what he’s talking about; he’s kind of crazy. Once he begins to talk about his story he doesn’t really stop. I practically had to walk out of his house in the middle of his talking because he wouldn’t listen to me when I said I had to leave. He’s a very nice fellow though.
When we got back to the campus Lauren, Papri, and I went in side the cafeteria to blow up a few balloons for the games that we were going to play. The Balloons smelled funny and were made in Bangladesh; I’m sure that blowing them up will give me cancer because of the smelly toxins but it was worth it to see the kids get so excited. A caregiver was helping us and every time a balloon would pop she would laugh so hard and all the kitchen workers would jump back. Bani walked in with spicy rice and dhal and Lauren and I wanted to try it. We ate like the typical Bangladeshi’s and used the silverware that God gave us: our hands. The Bengali people eat so gracefully with their hands while Lauren and I got it everywhere as we tipped our heads back and let the spicy food fall into our open mouths. After they saw that we enjoyed the food they wanted us to try the caregivers food. It was a spicy curry with potatoes and eggplant. Papri just sat there picking out the potatoes and laughing at Lauren because she didn’t like how spicy the food was. I’m beginning to get use to the spicy food that they make for the caregivers; it is actually enjoyable now. Tomorrow Shati is going to teach us how to make Dahl so that I can make it for my family when I get home.
When we went back outside the kids were bobbing for apples and playing various other games with the balloons that we had blown up. They got special treats such as this colorful rice pasta that was fried. I thought it was flavorless but the kids thought it was a real treat. They also received a piece of chocolate and many of them wanted to give me their candy even though they rarely get any. They are so selfless.
After the games were done the kids began to watch a cartoon in Bangla and Lauren, Bani, Heather, Kerri, and I went into town to pick up our Shari blouses that were being tailored and to pay for our internet. While in town we saw the cow and goat market that is getting ready for the holiday coming up next week. It is a Muslim holiday where they kill the old cows and give away the meat to the poor people. We won’t be going into town next week because all the stores will be closed and we also don’t want to see dead cows everywhere (I’m vegetarian for a reason). Thank goodness the villagers around us are Hindu so they don’t participate in the holiday.
Right now I feel too exhausted to type anymore. Just know…
that today was just a very good day.
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