Understanding Bangladesh

Final thoughts 2

Summary of thoughts from Bangladeshi citizens who accompanied and guided the Iowa teachers: Dr. Bimal Paul, Professor of Geography, Kansas State University

Dr. Alam, Professor of Geography, Rajshahi University

Mr. Moshiur Rahman, Tour Guide, Bengal Tours

Mr. Khaled Rahman, ,Student, Dhaka University & employee, Bengal Tours

(1) What have you most enjoyed showing the Iowa teachers group about Bangladesh?

The seriousness of the flood, the livelihoods of the people, the pottery, natural silk and the lush green beauty of Bangladesh.

The lifestyles of the people of Bangladesh and how they cope with the varied natural disasters and the physical features.

All of the natural beauties and places of historical interest.

(2) To your surprise, what things were the teachers interested in or delighted by?

The teachers were interested to know everything -- all aspects of Bangladesh, major and minor, especially in the natural hazards.

The teachers were interested in talking with many people, mostly students, on a variety of levels.

The teachers were delighted to see rickshaws and our different modes of transport, and to experience the zig-zagging traffic, the billboards, and to taste the mango and jackfruit.

(3) What would you most like the American teachers to remember about Bangladesh and its people?

To remember the natural beauty of the country and the simplicity of the people; especially the hospitality of the rural people.

The width of our rivers, our agricultural and other products, the floods, the large population, the traffic jams and foods, and to remember the people as friendly, open, helpful and hard-working.

(4) From working with the teachers, what renewed appreciation do you have of your own country?

We have renewed insight of the extreme flooding and the increased awareness of people living in all aspects.

Bangladesh is popularly known as a uniform country — physically, culturally, socially and economically. From traveling with the teachers, I have discovered that within this uniformity there are remarkable variations throughout the country.

Journal entry from Kay Weller for August 8, 2007:

It was back to the books today for our group! There were presentations from the Bangladesh Disaster Management Bureau, the Comprehensive Disaster Management Program of the U.N.D.P. and the Red Crescent Society.

What challenges they face year after year! Bangladeshis are now facing the worst flooding in a decade and most people are managing far better than I would expect. As we have driven through the country our hearts go out to the farmers who have lost crops.

Naturally, our group could not resist shopping. If the Disaster Mangement Bureau thinks they have a challenge, they ought to be packing our suitcases.

More for “Our Favorite Things” by Kim Daughtee (Sung to the tune of 'My Favorite Things')

Monkeys and tigers and bears at the zoo
So little time with so much left to do
People are gracious and wishing us well
Back in the states we’ll have stories to tell

Swerving and dodging we’re stuck in the traffic
Queen in the front seat is getting quite frantic
Beggars and gawkers outside of the bus
Hoping for taka from each one of us

CHORUS

Luke in his lunghi puts on a good show
Sarah is looking for somewhere to go
Dawn taking snaps with a masterful eye
Nothing gets by her as life passes by

Dan is the guru of putting together
The CD of photos is his greatest pleasure
Ann is the master of all that we’ve done
Together two heads are much better than one.

CHORUS

Final thoughts

Even the stragglers who stopped off in London for a few days have finally returned to Iowa Friday the 10th and Saturday the 11th, so the trip of 14 Iowa educators to Bangladesh is over, more than a month after it began.

We are furiously at work compiling our curricular materials that soon will be available in several forms, including on-line on the website of the Geographic Alliance of Iowa.

Before we completely put our trip behind us let us share what for nine of us was the long day home, last Monday, August 6.

The day began very early, even using Bangladesh time, which is 11 hours ahead of Iowa time. We left the Best Western LaVinci Hotel in Dhaka just before our target time of 5 a.m., meaning 6 p.m. the previous evening in Iowa! By the time we arrived at the Eastern Iowa Airport (or Des Moines or Moline), the time in Iowa was just after midnight as Monday gave way to Tuesday in Iowa, just after 11 a.m. Tuesday in Dhaka--more than 30 hours from hotel to final landing, and some of us had drives of a couple hours before reaching home.

Most of us rose around 3:30 a.m. so we could shower, use the internet one last time, and pack away the clothes we wore the day before. Our flight was not due to leave until 8:20, but we knew that with a group departing we should be at the airport very early.

Beating the rush hour, the ride to the airport took half as long as the ride from the airport four weeks earlier. With all our luggage we were glad to be beating the crowd at the airport as well. Five of us were rewarded with free up-grades to business class. Some of us stuck in coach, though, had a geographer's dream: window seats with great views.

The first few hours of the flight helped us see what we had been studying: floods in Bangladesh. We could see how extensive the floods have been this year that is wet even by Bangladesh standards.

Vast stretches were under water, with only roads and buildings on stilts or mounds above the flood. We flew over Rajshahi, the second of the five cities we had as a base. The Padna--in India the Ganges--was right up to the flood wall of the city.

As we flew northwest, leaving Bangladesh air space for that of India, we could see the jeopardy of life in Bangladesh: the Ganges Plain, from the border with Bangladesh all the way to the Himalayas, was flooded. Those waters, too, were headed for Bangladesh. The view was breathtaking and daunting as we saw the magnitude of the flooding.

Clouds prevented us from actually seeing the Himalayas until we had crossed from India into the "stans" of the former Soviet Union - Kyrgystan, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan and Kazakstan. When the clouds lifted we saw desert rather than flooding. The contrast was stark.

From a landscape crowding 150 million people in an area the equivalent of Iowa, we reached a landscape with almost no human habitation. We saw what we usually only get to read about, as I said, a geographer's dream.

Crossing the Caspian Sea on a diagonal from southeast to northwest, we were over water for more than an hour, such is the size of that inland sea.

Soon we could have been over Iowa as we crossed the southern stretches of the Russian Federation, then the Ukraine, agricultural regions with soils and productivity familiar to us here. The fields were extensive, green and gold.

As we crossed to Poland, then Germany and the Netherlands clouds obscured more and more of the landscape. Still, the views had been spectacular and well appreciated, a fantastic geographical scope from 40,000 feet.

Other than what eventually became a three hour delay in Chicago - prompting questions of whether we should get a car and drive the rest of the way home - the rest of the trip was routine, even mundane.

The transit between terminals in London was routine and with adequate but not ponderous time. Most of us slept on the flight across the Atlantic, and though each of us was very pleased to have had the opportunities we did in Bangladesh, each of us was glad to be home.

One of our group mentioned looking forward to getting weekends back because our trip was 28 straight working days. We all looked forward to being back with loved ones and friends.

We all feel enriched by the experience, committed to help the people of Bangladesh, and fortunate to be Iowans, given the security, quality of life, and physical well-being that we usually take for granted.

We also look forward to sharing our experiences and our lesson plans with you and anyone else interested. We hope our trip will in fact lead to increased interest in how the people of Bangladesh cope with their daunting physical environment - as well as how we as fellow human beings can help empower them to gain control over their lives.

-Rex Honey
Professor of Geography and International Studies
University of Iowa

Our Bangladesh Things

To the tune of "My Favorite Things":

Rickshaws in roadways and mangoes in market
Competent drivers who know how to park it
Goats on the roadside and geese painted pink
We'll always remember that spiced Moghul drink.

Ancient museums and statues of Vishnu
Speeches in Bangla and hazardous issues
Overfull buses with riders on top
Red lights say "re-lax" instead of just stop.

Chorus:

When the ran falls, when the sweat rolls
when we're feeling sad, we simply remember our
Bangladesh things and then we don't feel so bad.

Children in classrooms with bright smiling faces
Food in the market in organized spaces
Dung sticks and taking malaria pills
These are a few of our favorite thrills.

Long bamboo bridges and fragrant orange flowers
sugar cane fields and Grameen cell phone towers
Sharees and lungis and bright colored cloth
Biscuits with tea and sweet fruit drinks with froth.

Chorus

Burkas at beachside and jackfruit for snacking
Wisdom from Alam and so often packing
Police as escorts and boat rides in mist
Moshuir and Khalen check chores off their list.

Bimal gives guidance and Kay reigns as queen
Bathrooms are rated and some are quite clean
Hanging our laundry and searching for beer
Despite minor illness our team kept good cheer.

Chorus

No ship like friendship

Our day began at the Jagannath University in Dhaka.

Established in 1868 as a college it is one of the oldest in Dhaka.

Dr. Paul's niece attends school here and we had the honor of meeting her while we were there. We were greeted as honored guests with flowers and a huge banner announcing our arrival.

One of the professors said, "There are big ships, there are small ships, but there is no ship like friendship." I think we have all made many new friends in Bangladesh.

Kathy, Jill and Sarah kindly performed their rendition of "Our Favorite Bangladesh Things" and were a big hit with the students.

As in all the schools we visited we were very enthusiastically received and Kay expressed that "the youth of Bangladesh is their greatest resource."

--Maureen Smith

Thinking about home and visiting homes

We have come back to the La Vinci hotel in Dhaka.

The next time we pack our bags it will be for our trip home. That means it is time to sort, deciding how to pack our Bangladesh treasures including several large items -- baskets, pottery, books, a variety of musical instruments, lots of material, and much more. Fifteen teachers can collect a lot of classroom visuals.

One of the members our group is Bimal Paul, Kansas State University professor. His family has been very gracious inviting us into their homes.

On July 20th we visited his sister’s village. Today we visited his father and brother’s village in Pakutia. Their village is very similar to his sister's. The family homes are made of corregated steel with a separate building for cooking.

We were invited into the building where rice is stored. We shared world globes as well as many items we no longer had room for as we’re packing to go home.

Later we stopped at Bimal’s mother-in-law and family’s apartment. After walking through a hardware store we proceeded upstairs to the first of their 3-level apartment. There are several bedrooms, a spacious kitchen/dining room, a library/study room, and two bathrooms. On the top level is also the laundry room complete with a roof top garden where laundry is hung to dry.

Both homes were gracious and treated us with more food than we could possibly eat. What a joyful learning experience. Thank you to Bimal and his family for sharing your homes.

Everywhere we go continues to be eventful. On our drive home we pass a circus complete with an elephant and an enormous amount of bananas and pineapple ready for market. What a great day.

--Jane Watson, Hazleton, Iowa, U.S.A.
Talented and Gifted Coordinator at Starmont School.

July 31: Raindrops keep falling on our heads

I am sure by now that everyone is aware of the rain and flooding going on in Bangladesh. News reports vary, but we have heard that up to 50% of the country is flooded and as many as 5 million people are displaced.

We have had some experience seeing this, especially in the northeast corner of Bangladesh, near Sylhet. On July 31, we made a trip to Jaflong and Tamabil, and in our first few minutes drove through flooded streets in Sylhet and experienced some urban flooding for ourselves.

The waters were deep enough that we observed men fishing on the sides of the city streets with hand-held nets – and they seemed to be successful. Once we left town, the roads are basically on the embankments built to control the flooding, at least to a certain extent, so we could see water on either side, all the way to the horizon. Water buffalo stood under roofs on elevated land.

Compared to the height of flooded telephone poles, we estimated the water to be 5 to 7 feet deep over the fields and among the houses. Fishing was being done everywhere, with the catch being plentiful but very small in size for each individual fish. They are sold at the local market or eaten at home by the fishermen’s families.

We drove into the hill country, a beautiful area of tea growing and “rock picking.” Most of the work in this country is done by hand labor, including gathering rocks for construction of roads and buildings. This has to be one of the hardest jobs (the other, in my mind, is breaking bricks with a hammer for road construction) and is done by women and children as well as men.

Off to the right, (and across the river we eventually reached), we could see the hills of India. Also along the road were huge piles of coal, which we were told were imported from India. Even the sheep were black from the coal dust.

On our way back out of the hill country, we stopped in a village to see the “King’s Palace” and a temple that honors Kali, the Hindu goddess of destruction. Both were in poor shape, but the walls were interesting with all the carvings of animals and a dancing man. Many buildings were made of brick in the past and deteriorate quickly, probably due to the tropical climate and dense foliage that soon overruns the roofs and walls. The palace was destroyed in an earthquake in the late 1800s.

We also were able to meet the matriarch of a local indigenous tribe that practices a nature-loving religion called Tang. In this group, the men marry into the women’s family (just the opposite of most of Bangladesh) and inheritance is passed through the women. Protima Sumer is the elderly leader of the clan which at this time consists of only 33 families. They are beginning to marry into Hindu families since their own group is so small. She was gracious and welcoming as we came into her modern, comfortable home.

As is usual on this journey, we had an interesting day filled with adventure and learning.

-- Linda Litterer

July 29: Where's the wettest place on the planet?

During this longest travel day of our trip, we headed north from Chittagong toward our destination of Sylhet, driving along the hills which border India on Bangladesh’s eastern edge. In Fenni, we visited two schools of grade ten students. At a private (thus selective) girls’ school, we encouraged students to continue with education and to pursue careers. Many Bangladeshi females now become teachers, while some have told us they want to become doctors and lawyers - however, paying for education is difficult for most families. Teachers at private schools such as the one we visited often end up with less pay than public school teachers, since some parents can’t afford to pay the portion of salaries that they are expected to cover. Yet understandably, most parents want their children to attend the best of schools.

Next, we participated in a major event during our visit to a boys’ public school. The headmaster was retiring, so the faculty and students joined us in an enormous room decorated in honor of our visit. We were impressed with the environmental theme and work in the posters, and took many photos, which delighted the students and faculty. We were given the posters to use in geography workshops back in Iowa, then our driver skillfully managed to get us back on the road without injuring any of the boys who excitedly mobbed our mini-bus.

Traveling north, we pursued various productive and/or amusing ways to pass the time, including boisterous comments comparing favorite billboard personalities, such as the Pran Oil girl, the Lux girl, and the Banglalink boy.

Next, Dr. Bimal Paul presented information from his research on infant mortality, which is declining notably in Bangladesh. Then we learned from Bimal’s research regarding disaster-related health issues. I was interested to hear that after cyclones, the assistance of psychologists is often needed more than the help of medical doctors – and that along with drowning, snakebite is a leading cause of flood-related deaths in Bangladesh.

Then a vigorous discussion developed concerning corruption, and the work of various government organizations and non-government organizations (GOs and NGOs). This information will help me to set up a micro-credit loan to a Bangladeshi woman – which I plan to then follow with my students concerning the impact of the loan on the related family.

As we entered northeastern Bangladesh, we saw landscape giving way to a waterscape of wetlands known as haors. Many chickens, cows, goats, and pedestrians gathered along the tree-lined roadway embankments, taking refuge above the shimmering, silvery expanses of water. This was another chance to observe how even in “normal” years, 30% of Bangladesh may be covered with flood waters. Going further north, I recalled Alexander Frater’s adventures (described entertainingly in his book “Chasing the Monsoon”) as he headed north toward Cherrapunji, which is aptly titled the “wettest place on Earth” due to annual local rainfall accumulations of 500 inches. By comparison, Sylhet received a maximum of 200 inches per year – and Iowa receives a maximum of 35 inches!

Near Sylhet, we were joined by a police escort, who accompanied us with sirens and flashing lights to our hotel. I cringed a bit as our group became even more noticeable as oddities, yet it was nice to have our safety supported in many ways while we traveled.

I looked forward to enjoying the “liberal” city of Sylhet, (population 250,000) which has been impacted by the influence of many Bangladeshi natives traveling back and forth from London since leaving in 1880 to pursue jobs related to ship-building industries. There are estimates that 500,000 Bangladeshi people now live in London.

Footnote: While in Sylhet, a few of us managed to visit the Shrine of Shahazalal, a famous Muslim mosque which is also a major pilgrimage destination. We were able to lean over the wall bordering the nearby pond to gaze at the “sacred catfish” - who are said to have miraculously appeared, possibly after being transformed from black magicians, although we’ve heard various versions of these fishes’ story. In any case, however the fish came to be there, their pond near the mosque (with accompanying throngs of people) was a very unique place to visit - and I appreciate the support of our guide Moshiur as well as the support of the police escorts who accompanied us to this and many other sites.

-- Jill Watrous

CNG: Clean, green fuel alternative

A CNG-powered autorickshaw. (Photo by Dan Walsh)

Compressed natural gas (CNG) is a “greener” fuel alternative that is sweeping South Asia. CNG vehicles produce a cleaner exhaust and pollute the air much less than diesel and petroleum powered automobiles.

Cities that have introduced CNG have experienced tremendous improvements in air quality. Bangladesh introduced CNG in 1999 and currently attains 10% of the CNG from their own natural gas reserves.

CNG has been introduced in the cities of Dhaka, Chittagong, Sylhet, Comilla, Cox’s Bazaar, and Bogra. Furthermore, many buses are CNG powered, government vehicles are gradually being converted to CNG, and autorickshaws in Dhaka are compulsorily powered by CNG.

CNG is an accommodating fuel alternative. All vehicles -- petrol or diesel -- can be converted to CNG power at one of the many “CNG Conversion Centres.”

CNG is priced much lower than conventional fuels, with the price of petrol equaling 68 taka per liter ($3.73 per gallon), diesel at 40 taka per liter ($2.19 per gallon), and CNG coming in comparably lower at 30 taka per liter ($1.65 per gallon). Therefore, even if drivers are not concerned about the environment, the effects on their pocketbook should motivate them to make the switch to CNG.

CNG vehicles also come with a reserve tank of petrol or diesel, thus, if you run out of CNG your vehicle can make it to the next filling station.

-- Luke Juran is from Dyersville, Iowa and an M.A. and Ph.D. student at the University of Iowa.

A CNG filling station. The gas station attendant hooks up a CNG air hose and pumps the tank full with more CNG -- just like our propane grills. (Photo by Luke Juran

July 27: Back from the beach

It was hard to leave the beach life at Cox’s Bazar: the salt air, casual atmosphere and sound of crashing waves made our stay a respite for our group, now approaching our third week in country.

After supper last night, a few of us ventured to the beach and found it safe and tranquil. While we scuttled crabs with our flashlights, we saw families strolling and heard groups of young men singing. There was just enough moonlight for the lovers.

We stopped at Dalahazara Safari Park, a 3,000 acre park established in 1999. Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina, a nature lover, recognized the need for a place that would provide education and employment and also a breeding program for endangered and threatened species.

Until the 1960’s, the Bengal tiger lived in evergreen forests which once covered the area. Human land use and poaching took their toll here, just like clearing prairie for agriculture threatened the American bison.

A few animals at the park are from Africa, and there’s even a North American turkey. Most of the species of birds, deer, bear, elephants, monkeys and reptiles are native. Like the Safari Parks near Omaha and San Diego, one travels in a vehicle, but may get out at assigned viewing areas.

The two Bengal tigers were beautiful, and the turtle with flippers caught my attention. There was a viewing bridge for the 54 crocodiles, and a few of our group took the opportunity to ride an elephant.

Several monkeys had free range, and looked for handouts from the keeper who accompanied us. A snack bar at the end featured a man with a machete who expertly whacked open fresh coconuts and inserted drinking straws.

The preservation efforts and breeding program are examples of the sophistication we find in Bangladesh. This insight may be missing from your concept of a developing country.

Rural Bangladeshis protect themselves from monsoon rains with a woven raincoat called a mathal.

Rain caught us a few times during the day, for brief intervals.

Like an Iowa thunderstorm, there is a palpable heat buildup. Thunderheads tower; the rain a welcome release. Skies don’t clear, and the heat builds anew.

We returned to Chittagong, a grimy working city where it is all about ships coming in and out. There seems to be less public art inside the tangles of roundabouts here than in Dhaka or Rajshahi.

Others have scoffed at my interest in public art (which runs the gamut from metal abstractions to giant mangoes and herons and includes mosaics of the Language Martyrs). I have come to believe that art, literature, and history are part of the glue that holds a country together. Students here memorize and can recite Tagore’s poetry. When people come to your town, what art do they see? What poetry and songs hold us together?

Right now I hear the evening call to prayer -- part of the glue that holds Bangladesh together. Like our church bells, the sound is expected, understood, and comfortable.

-- Kathy Sundtedt

POEM: 'Mothers wade to work'

By Shatadol Chakraborty
(translated by Farhad Ahmed)

The rains come.
The city’s grand mansions wetted into safe field mice nests.
The silver-robed magician in his air-conditioned lair has never been caught in the rain.
After the meeting, the white car whisks him away to his marble-and-glass palace where water means mineral water, cooler, geyser.

In America when it rains, avenues are not water-logged.
Rows of colorful umbrellas hoist a rainwater fair.
And choruses rise in schools, “Rain, rain, come again.…”

In Third World alleys, rainwaters heave and toss.
Mothers of tiny children wade to work.
Fathers repair shacks, lean-tos, thatch roofs.
The tea stall boy is slapped for breaking a cup—

Yet, it rains, and boys and girls naked frolic in the mud slime with the Gods.

Source: The Daily Star. Dhaka, Bangladesh. 28 July 2007, p. 21.

July 28: Cruisin' in Rangamati

When looking over my notes for today one word stands out: epic. This is the story of our epic journey into the Rangamati area of the Chittagong Hill Tracks.

The day did not start off too great. Several of us have the sniffles and coughs so we had to stop at the local pharmacy for menthol and cough syrup. However, we got a good laugh out of the situation; when someone mentioned hearing George loudly blowing his nose that morning he quipped “Yes, and when I opened my door there were 2,000 Muslims outside who thought that I had done the call to prayer.” I have quickly learned one must have a sense of humor to survive four weeks in a van with sixteen other (sick and sweaty) people.

Soon we began to notice a steep rise in elevation and a tightening in the curves of the road. We had entered the Hill Tracks. For those who do not know, the Chittagong Hill Tracks span the length of the southeast branch of Bangladesh and are a notoriously dangerous place for tourists, especially after the recent kidnapping of a Danish man. In short, the trouble in this area is mostly due to conflict between the tribal groups and the plains people. Although Rangamati is the safest area of the Hill Tracks, foreigners are still required to stop at several checkpoints and have armed guards while in certain areas.

Once in the city of Rangamati we arrived at the Rangamati-Kaptai Lake. This lake was artificially made in 195 after the damming of the Karnaphuli River. Unlike the Coralville Reservoir, the Karnaphuli River was dammed for generating power. During this process many people were displaced and live scattered about the region.

At the lake we boarded a boat for an afternoon tour of the massive lake. The scenery was astounding. The giant hills were covered in forests of teak, banana, and other tropical plans. Portions of the land were cultivated with various crops (such as ginger, tamarack, and pineapple) often as thum or shifting cultivation. The sky also played an important role in the area’s beauty. A panoramic picture would include giant white cumulus clouds against a royal blue sky that contrasted with low grey clouds that misted rain over mountain tops. A picture does not even come close to portraying how impressive the scenery was.

For lunch we stopped at the charming Peda Ting Tin Restaurant where we were served the local treat- bamboo. It was served in cooked in a vegetable dish with gravy and breaded and fried. It had the texture of a dense mushroom and is a vegetarian’s delight! We were also served chicken that was cooked in large bamboo shoots and fish from the local lake.

The next highlight of the cruise was stopping at a large waterfall. There were disembarked and climbed the slippery rocks to stick our hands in the falls.

We were out about ten minutes when the wind suddenly picked up and we heard frantic calls to come back to the boat- the monsoon rains were coming.

I was surprised at how quickly the sprinkles turned to a heavy downpour. I was not the only one to come back to the boat drenched!

After our cruise we headed back through the beautiful hills towards Chittagong.

Although the roads were not as busy as Dhaka, this ride was still nerve wracking. It probably had to do with taking hairpin turns at thirty miles per hour in the wrong lane with no idea what was around the turn!

But our wonderful driver got us back safe and sound as always.

-- Sarah Dorpinghaus

High fashion and futbol on the beach

Do you remember Frankie and Annette from the beach blanket movies of the 1950’s? Maybe you have seen those movies as originals or the really bad re-runs, either way, if you thought that they were conservative, welcome to Bangladesh Baywatch! Swimwear takes on a whole new meaning on the beach at Cox’s Bazar. Everything you see at the local Iowa pool on a hot day would make the beachwear we have seen look a really bad beach movie. In the same camera shot, we saw burqas, hood and all, what we would consider fancy evening wear, and men in lungis splashing and frolicking in the waves. It was kind of fun to watch with all of the people who have been staring at us, it was fun to stare at them for a while. We were wearing normal swimwear, and we looked radical. To quote the day, it was bizarre at Cox’s Bazar.

As the day ended, we also saw the international appeal of futbol. While summer soccer leagues ended at home in Iowa and our thoughts are turning to American football in the fall, we all saw the appeal of the game on the beach this afternoon. We at one time had two tour guides, three middle school teachers, two very respected university professors, and five various states of children, from beggars to hawkers playing a game of pass on the beach. My favorite moment of the day was the boy who stopped by and not speaking any English, just starting kicking the ball with shouts that were only understood as, ”pass it to me.” That we did and it was hard not to think of the old commercials fhrom the World Cup last summer, you must remember, “All over the world everyone, no matter who we are or where we are from, we all smile in the same language, futbol.” I can see why the game of futbol has so much international appeal, as we witnessed this afternoon, it brings everyone together.

-- George

July 30: Water, water everywhere ...

A police-escorted drive into the countryside outside Sylhet provided us with visual images of the current flooding situation. Frequent bus stops gave us opportunities to get up close and personal with the people and scenery we usually only view from bus windows.

We have been assured that what looks like threatening flooding is in fact normal flooding, as the area around Sylhet has annual precipitation of 177 inches, all in the form of rain. At our first stop, Rex Honey interviewed a local retired postal worker who had hired a boat to get there from his flooded home.

The gentleman described conditions in the area--homes are flooded, school is cancelled, and fishing is currently poor. If there would be no more rain, the waters would recede over a week or two. However, there will be more rain.

I observed more lambs and livestock on the roadside than in days past, as they have been brought to safety on higher ground from flooded residences. Children were playing happily with a day off from school--experimenting with oversized fishing nets, riding naked on hand-built rafts, balancing on tops of posts protruding out of the water, swimming, bathing, and carrying siblings on their hips through deep water on footpaths.

I looked out over the floodwaters and kept repeating, as if to convince myself, “This is normal!”

Flooding is normal in Bangladesh, and people have adjusted to flooding as a way of life. In other seasons, today’s fishermen are farmers and small businessmen, women focus on work related to their homes, and children go to school.

Epilogue

Given personal time this afternoon, Linda arranged escorts for the two of us to an Internet café, where I spent a precious hour reading and sending emails for 37 Taka, just over 50 cents. That was a bargain!

But the best “deal” I got was my ride back to the hotel—I’m going to get a lot of mileage out of the tale of my ride in the back seat of a police vehicle. Each tour guide told me tonight at dinner that I had honored the policemen by taking their pictures. I’ll honor them again by sharing one of the photos here.

July 25: Chittagong to Cox’s Bazar

Fields … vegetables, sugar cane, rice fields … freshly plowed, either by hand, by oxen plow, or mini-tractor. A small town… cities, tight squeezes, and near misses on the highway. Men loading and unloading trucks. Rickshaws picking up and dropping off customers. Dogs, goats, cows, and people, thousands of people pass by on the way from the port city of Chittagong to our new location of Cox’s Bazar (yes one a), home of one of the longest beaches in the region.

Roads in Bangladesh are narrow, two lane highways with a small shoulder that is almost constantly filled with people or animals. Organized villages, moveable shops, and squatter communities sprout up along the highway. When we see this narrowing process, the road narrows because the shoulder is being used for human and animal uses. As the road narrows, traffic congestion increases, reducing speeds, and adding time to the journey.

In this photo, multiple modes of transportation in a village can be seen. The roads are indeed marked, but the proper uses of the markings can be ‘negotiable’ based on the circumstance.

Our Iowa experience concerning traffic is to hop onto the interstate, set the cruise control, and go. Even on two lane highways, country roads, and gravel, speed can be kept pretty constant. We have all made way for the tractor during planting season or the combine at harvest time in the fall. You may see a line of five to ten cars waiting to safely make their way around the farm equipment. We have to slow traffic down a few times during a country drive a couple times a year.

With Bangladesh, things are a little different, with the same square miles as Iowa and fifty times the people; there are several rice planting and harvest seasons, which makes for a constant flow of farming equipment. Additionally, here in Bangladesh there are narrow roads, many small tractors, plows, and rickshaws carrying crops. So our Iowa experience is multiplied several times over.

Moving on…

We made a small stop at a BRAC office for a little break. BRAC is an acronym for Bangladesh Rural Advancement Committee. In the hallway of the building there was a poster series on living a proper life. The message of the poster series was that both men and women created this world and they must work together to succeed. Some of the components of BRAC projects are education, empowerment through micro-credit loans, and health.

Along the lines of health, we made a side stop at a hospital in Malumghat, outside Cox’s Bazar. On the plane from the UK, Kay Weller, from UNI, sat next to a couple who worked at a hospital. During the flight, she made arrangements to stop by at the hospital when we were close by, and this we did as a side-stop for the day. We were greeted by the hospital administrator, who was the father of the young man Kay met on the plane. He was originally from Peoria, Illinois, so there was an instant Midwest connection. The son, that Kay sat next to on the plane, rode up on a motorcycle and we toured the hospital. This hospital sees about 300,000 people in a year’s time, so it is a busy place. Most of the people who access the hospital are impoverished. To combat these hardships and others like being all alone, or with no family support, the hospital has a shop to create small things to sell. Personally, I am not a big shopper, but when you can put someone to work for a good cause, count me in. So anyone expecting little Bangladeshi gifts… be pretty certain that they came from this shop.

After seeing pond water everywhere for the last few weeks and being advised not to swim in it, the Bay of Bengal was a welcome sight.

When the time came to reach the sea, we crested a small hill and the sea was in plain sight. After lunch, we got on our swimwear and headed to the beach.

Swimwear is loose term, because by our standards, you probably would be under dressed at this beach. We were about the only folks in shorts, the native lungi (men’s cotton mid-wrap) and saris were commonly seen on the beach.

Needless to say splashing around in the Bay of Bengal was splendid!

After dinner we watched a family just outside the hotel property. A family of 7 lives in a small hut that farms a small piece of ground and takes care of a couple of cows.

Although it does not sound like the perfect evening activity, I learned a lot about the family and their way of life. Not really the type of life we would call ideal, but they seemed happy and it was clear there was a great deal of happiness in the family.

--Dan Walsh, Cedar Rapids