The weekend after "goat Eid" as it's known in the ex-patriot community around here, I got a chance to get out to a village in the northwest of Bangladesh (Rajshahi Division) called Nator.
My friend Jason's cook Thomas is from there, and his family still lives there. Thomas and his son live in Dhaka (his son is a student and works in the city), and Thomas travels back home for five days at the end of each month. Jason, Thomas, his son, Thomas's nephew and I took off for Nator at about 6:30 in the morning for the three hour drive. Jason, Thomas's son and I crammed into the back seat, but at least I didn't have to sit in the middle. Thomas's nephew wore a hilarious red turtleneck-black blazer combination the whole day that reminded me of some westerner caricature I couldn't quite place.
This was a great example of a time I was unhappy to be doing something but realized that I had to go in a sense. Early in the morning. Squished against my fellow passenger. But I was going to see something special, I had to believe, because I try to push myself to do stuff like this even when I am not in the mood, aware that there are only so many days to see everything I can in this country.
Once we got to the village we had a really great time. The village was clean and seemed relatively prosperous, definitely a middle class place. It had been a Christian enclave for about 60 years, and Thomas's family had lived there for a few generations. It is always interesting to see how Christianity is integrated into Bangladeshi lifestyle.
In this case, there was a poster of the last supper in Thomas's son's room, a few crosses here and there. In his cousin's house, there was a great "Merry Christmas" banner above her door with a picture of the Lamb.Thomas had a two building property, one for sleeping and one for work and cooking. Behind the living house was a small plot of rice that supplemented, but did not provide a full measure of their rice supply. Everyone in the village was extremely friendly and a little curious, and Thomas's family impressed me by not trying to "show us off" as many Bangladeshis will do when a westerner comes to their village.
We ate breakfast and lunch cooked by Thomas's wife, both quite delicious. Before lunch we tried to do some net fishing in Lungis, but were unable to catch anything. The technique is pretty tricky, it's hard to throw the net so that it opens up as much as possible. I got a couple of good tosses but only caught a little frog. A villager snagged a bunch of fish, and we ate one of them for lunch. It was amazingly tasty but full of bones.
I was wearing a Lungi from Thomas's son, and still getting the hang of tying it and wearing it. While fishing in the pond, the trick it to get it tied up through your legs diaper-fashion to make you both more mobile and keep it from getting wet. One particularly helpful and 8-toothed villager took it upon himself to assist me with this tying, essentially applying one of the most vicious wedgies I have ever received, and sticking his hand down the back of the lungi to secure the tie. This was a bit awkward for me, but he seemed pretty as ease with it so, you know, I just went with it.
Being out in the village was a really peaceful experience. I had been in the city for a maybe a month without getting out, and especially after Eid I was ready to get out. It was so quiet and calm and pleasant. It was a little sad to leave, but we had very long drive ahead of us, one that would be made only more nerve wracking by the failing daylight.
Here are a few more pictures:
The lunch spread and our friend in the turtleneck with Thomas and his wife
A village kid, notice that blade in his right hand.
Jason and I getting ready for some fishing
My best toss; we had drawn a little audience by then.
Thomas and his wife really seemed like a happy and loving couple
1 comment:
Beckley, I enjoyed reading your Bangladesh blog. Where are you? home yet? Sorry. I wanted to get in touch with you for a while, but never found the moment. What's your current email address?
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