Seeing the City

I've now been in Turkey just over a week. That seems rather wild to me, since it feels like an eternity ago that I was boarding a plane at the Toronto airport. Since my last post, life has not at all slowed down. Orientation continued through last week, with a lot of the administrative tasks with the university getting ironed out. I've been trying to plan my course schedule, which is super exciting. There are so many fascinating courses which I would love to take, especially in the field of my major, political science. I'll be taking a regular course sequence of five courses, but it's going to be hard to pick that few with all the selection. One of the classes I'll be taking is a Turkish Language course, which I'm very excited about too - I'm picking up a few key phrases so far - hello, thank you, and I can count to five - but it will be nice to have a structured time and place to really learn. I have the next two weeks to nail down my schedule, meaning I can attend lectures and see if the profs and the classes are good fits before committing, which is nice (and a luxury not afforded to regular METU students, making me rather grateful of the course selection flexibility I've had at uOttawa).  And while I never, ever believed I would be saying it, I'm also feeling rather grateful for Rabaska, uOttawa's online course registration software. Yes, Rabaska can be frustrating, but it won't be even half as time-consuming as the bureaucratic hoops I'll have to jump through for course registration - the number of signatures, approvals, and stamps I need is rather ridiculous and gives me a bit of a headache just thinking about it.

The weather has been mostly grey, but here's a taste of campus - lots of trees and other green spaces.

Speaking of headache-inducing bureaucracy, in the short week I've been here, I've experienced a lot of it, and I know there's more to come. Everything from getting a student card to buying natural gas for the month has seemed to involve an additional level of bureaucracy than I would find back home. For example, in order to legally live in Turkey for longer than 90 days, I need to get a residence permit (never mind the fact that I already paid for a student visa which is valid for 6 months - no, that's not enough). Thank goodness my orientation contained an extensive session on the topic, because I need at least 12 different documents, from petitions to insurance information to special folders (many of which are exclusively in Turkish and thus absolutely incomprehensible to me without translation help from the International Office and my flatmates). In the coming weeks, I'll have to make an appointment at the Security Office, trek across town (bringing in tow a Turkish speaker because the 'crats won't speak English), wait around, hope my papers get approved, and ultimately pay more money. But, at the very least, I think that will be the last of my "settling-in affairs".

I've also now met my second flatmate, Mustafa, who moved in on Friday. Mustafa is also a METU student, doing his Ph.D. in computer instruction (or something related - I forget exactly. Definitely has to do with computers though). Mustafa is a fantastic cook. He's made a couple meals for me so far, and they have been delicious. As in most cultures, food and eating have important places in Turkish culture, and I've been learning a lot about that, especially from Yasin and especially Mustafa, who maintains a lot of those traditions from his hometown life before he moved to Ankara. For example, we don't really use knives - even when spreading things like honey or the uber-delicious grape molasses & honey mixture on bread, we use a fork. More than I had expected, we eat with our hands, scooping with pieces of bread into a communal dish of the main course in the middle of the table. We eat a lot of bread, and the freshly baked loaves from the local bakery are amazing. I knew that meat was popular in Turkey (and it is), but I admit I wasn't expecting how prominent bread and other baked goods would be (sorry gluten-free friends, you'll really be missing out if you visit!).

On Thursday, our orientation involved a trip to a few of the key tourist destinations in Ankara, which was pretty awesome. First, we visited Atatürk's Mausoleum, namely the last resting place of Turkey's founder and national hero. Mustafa Kemal, who adopted the name Atatürk (meaning "Father Turk"). It was an interesting place for a number of reasons, and I'm still processing the significance of it. It's a huge complex, starting with a walk down a tree-lined avenue of lion statues, towards a huge colonnaded courtyard. Ataturk's tomb, on one side, is the highlight, in a beautiful building, with stunning ceiling and gorgeous lighting, even on the grey and dreary day we visited. Then, there's an extensive museum dedicated to Ataturk and the formation of the Turkish Republic. A lot of his personal effects are on display, which are kinda cool to see and give a bit of a glimpse into the life he must have lived - certainly a fascinating one. Next, there's a museum dedicated to the formation of the Turkish Republic. It's full of nationalist fanfare, to say the least. It seemed as though every second display was a painting of Atatürk, and you can learn the name of just about every person who was at all involved in the nation-building process. That said, I shouldn't be too critical, and I hope I don't sound too dismissive of it all - Turkey is a young republic, less than 100 years old, and the foundation of the Republic is of course THE major event in the Turkish national consciousness and in their republican identity, and I appreciate that. Additionally, there were these huge, murals that were sort of 3D and which were accompanied by sound effects to capture the essence of the events depicted, which was actually really neat.

One of 24 snow-covered lions.

Columns in the courtyard.

The mausoleum itself (and a gaggle of exchange students).

Atatürk's tomb.

Trying to capture the beauty of the ceilings. Just not doing it justice with my digital camera.

Next, we bused to Ankara's Old Town, called Hamamönü. This was a great area to just walk around in, though since we were in a group we kept getting herded along faster than I wanted (I'll have to go back!). The streets were narrow and felt almost European, but the foods and smells and details were undeniably Turkish. We also entered a lot of little art shops, which were pretty cool and housed in historic buildings. We even saw some demonstrations of traditional (and very cool) art techniques, like this woman who poured paint on water, swirled it around to make flowers, and then put a blank sheet of paper on the water. When she pulled it off, the paint (and its flowers) was gone from the water and was instead on the paper - pretty neat. We also stopped for Turkish coffee, which was served in the traditional way and included these absolutely delicious marshmallow-like sweets. It was fantastic.

I saw this couple and asked to take their picture. They just looked so, well, Turkish to me, enjoying their cays outside at one of these little tables.

I thought this guy with his little butcher shop was great too - the building was so unique looking, and he just stands at the door, waiting to welcome customers inside.

Beautiful AND delicious - Turkish coffee is such a treat.

Finally, we made our way to the ancient Ankara Citadel. It's an incredibly old fortification, started in the 7th century and expanded in the 9th century by Emperor Michael II of the Byzantium Empire. We climbed around on the ramparts and took a bunch of photos and it was pretty cool!

From the citadel, looking back on the snow-capped roofs of Anakara

The inner walls of the citadel (ft. a lot of Germans)

No one's pretending it's the most beautiful city to look at, but I like the red roofs and the mountains in the distance.

The 1300-year-old fortifications juxtaposed with some crumbling modern houses below. The neighbourhood around the citadel actually looked rather rough.

The interior of the citadel, from the walls.

More ramparts, more city.

On the weekend, Yasin showed me more of the city. Saturday morning we visited a farmer's market right in my neighbourhood of Balgat, which was a lot of fun and had great food. Even though it's winter and it's relatively cold in Ankara, other parts of the country are much nicer and still producing delicious fruit. The oranges we bought are some of the best I've ever tasted.

Later, we went exploring in Kızılay, the downtown neighbourhood. We walked along some of the more famous streets, which are especially popular among young people. There's also a concentration of leftist political groups in the area (due to the younger demographic) and a ton of little cafes and shops which seem to accompany such groups.  Again, it was fascinating and requires a second visit - when the weather gets even warmer, I'm sure I'll spend more time outside and exploring this cool area. We met up with Yasin's friend, and drank tea and chatted at one such cafe [I heard some interesting stories, but I'm not going to share them now - I think they belong in a later blog post]. Overall, a delightful afternoon.

In the evening, there was a Welcome Party for exchange students hosted by the METU International Students Network at a club downtown. It was a lot of fun, but the real reason I mention it is just to note that clubs and bars in Ankara - which is NOT by any means known as being a party city - don't close until 5 or 6am. As a Canadian (and specifically having lived in Ottawa, the city where you can't find a coffee shop open past 9pm), I find that mind-blowing. Needless to say, I didn't stay out that late, but can you imagine?

A New City and a New Home

My first impression of Turkey was of the minarets. I awoke from a deep slumber as we began our descent and immediately noticed how many of these towers rose from Ankara, a city that is unsurprisingly filled with mosques. I have visited a majority Muslim country once before, when I visited Bangladesh, but so far I feel as though the way in which Islam affects everyday lives is very different. We'll have to see.

My second impression was that Esenboga Airport in Ankara smells of cigarette smoke. I have to assume this is a lingering smell, since there didn't appear to be anyone smoking inside, but I think it was an appropriate introduction to how much people in Turkey smoke (though it probably doesn't help these first impressions that I've been spending much of my time in the company of German exchange students who are also notorious for their tobacco consumption).

Getting through customs at the airport was (surprisingly?) smooth and easy, and then I waited at domestic arrivals for Yasin, my roommate, to arrive. Yasin is from Agri, a city in the east of the country, and he had been home for holidays like the rest of the university. It was rather fortunate that we were getting into the airport within an hour or so of each other, since it made my trek into town (much of which happened in darkness by the time we left the airport) much less terrifying.

My apartment is a real delight! Aside from the toilet, which is "Turkish style" - ie. a hole in the ground, familiar to those who've also traveled India and other parts of South East Asia - I adore every part of it. It's located in a short, rather non-descript-in-a-quaint-sorta-way building on a quiet, tree-lined street. I'm a big fan of the front door. There a shared kitchen, living room, shower room, and toilet room, and then three bedrooms. The decor is simple and a little bit retro, but since Turkey is in the midst of a rather rapid modernization process, it feels more "authentic" than some of the other more modern apartments Yasin has described to me. My room has a bed, a desk, a couch and a large wardrobe. It's small, but certainly plenty big enough for me. Comparing my living situation with that of the exchange students living on campus, I'm incredibly happy I chose the off-campus option.
University dormitories are either cramped with multiple roommates, or truly expensive (even by North American standards). I have another roommate, Mustafa, but he hasn't yet moved in yet since the regular semester hasn't started. His English, apparently, is not anywhere near as strong as Yasin's, but I'm hoping this will serve as a strong motivator to learn Turkish.

My room when I arrived. We've since added a desk. A little tight, but more than enough. I love the couch.

On my first night, Yasin took me on a walking tour of Balgat, which is my neighbourhood in Ankara. While I still have a lot more exploring to do before I pass judgement on Balgat, so far it seems to be pleasant. There are a lot of small shops and restaurants, and the buildings are only a few stories high. At night, it remains well-lit but traffic quiets down completely, making it calm but safe.

The next morning, Yasin accompanied me to campus, for the start of my orientation. I've met a whole bunch of international students, from Slovenia, to Taiwan, to Kazakhstan, to the US. They are all friendly and as excited as I am, and there are a few with whom I've really hit it off. There's another Canadian here, too, from the U of A, which is kinda cool. I've been spending a lot of time with the exchange students, since my orientation week is packed from morning to night with information sessions and social events. A lot of the info is critical and it's great to network with the other internationals, but I'll be happy when classes start so that I can meet some real Turks and get going academically.

The Middle East Technical University (from now on, forever and always, to be referred to simply as METU) campus is unique, and not quite what I expected. First of all, it is huge. Truly massive. I don't know measurements, but trust me for now. It's also very isolated from the city. When it was first built, it was constructed completely outside the city limits, but the city has since grown around it. Nonetheless, it has maintained a feeling of being completely separate from the city, thanks in part to the large number of amenities (there is a shopping mall and a hospital, for example). It reminds me a bit of UBC in the way in which it is distinct from Vancouver. In fact, I'm learning that METU is culturally very distinct from Ankara. It is certainly more liberal, and behaviours that are not acceptable in Turkish culture are fully accepted on campus. I know that campuses are usually more liberal, but I have never seen it to this degree. For example, romantic couples will kiss on campus as they do in North America, but in the city itself you would never see this behaviour. Even a couple holding hands in downtown Ankara is considered risque. I'm sure that as time goes on and I see more of campus, I'll fill you in with more details.

At the end of my first day of orientation, I took a bus home alone. It was nerve-wracking, as I had to wave down the bus, pay, and then recognize my stop alone at night, but doing so gave me a big confidence boost. Since then, I've traveled alone a bit more, and each time it becomes easier. Again, there is huge motivation to learn Turkish, since it is not needed on campus but is oh-so-critical in the city itself.

In terms of city exploration, it has been rather limited so far, what with me being so busy with orientation and other campus activities. However, in a block of free time today, a couple of international students and I headed to Kizilay, the downtown, for a few hours to check things out.

I would be lying if I said that I found downtown Ankara to be pretty or photogenic. The city is relatively young, having been turned into the capital only in the 1920s with the establishment of the Turkish Republic. Thus it has few of the architectural masterpieces downtown you might find in other great cities. The oldest part of the city, with the most tourist and architectural sites, is away from the city centre, and I haven't yet visited.

That being said, Kizilay is certainly not uninteresting. In fact, it is fascinating, watching cars and people interact. It was loud, with plenty of flashy signs and neon lights, and tons of shops. We ate simit, a traditional bagel-like food from a street vendor, and doner (basically a traditional Turkish meat sandwich) from a hole-in-the-wall restaurant. We also came across the Kotcatepe Camii, a huge white mosque which is often used as a symbol of Ankara. It seemed almost out of place in the bustling commercial city-centre, but the giant advertisement for Kiwis at a local grocery store hanging just in front of the entrance helped remind us that we were still in Kizilay. In fact, there appeared to be an entire shopping mall underneath the mosque, which was confusing and felt kinda cheap.

The first view of Kotcatepe Camii. Note that kiwis are on sale. The top of the kiwi ad is actually the bottom of the raised platform which the mosque sits on.

Looking back on the city from the Kotcatepe Camii platform. Nothing special, no, but just past those apartment buildings, down that road of red lights is the bustling commercial heart of the city. Also note the snow. Everyone's complaining about the cold and I'm finding it rather balmy.

However, when we mounted the steps to the mosque platform, we left the commercialization behind. As stunning as it was from afar, the sheer size of the Kotcatepe Camii is overwhelming. The mosque is relatively new (built in the second half of the 20th century) but the architecture is stunningly gorgeous. While we were there, too, the call began from the minarets. It was fascinating to see the literal "call to prayer". People at shops and offices across the street ran up the steps as the call went out, and funneled into the mosque. I didn't go in, because I wanted to respect those that were praying, but I hope to come back and take a look inside because I hear it is truly spectacular.

Trying to capture the enormity and beauty of the Kotcatepe Camii,

I've already stayed up too late writing this post (I think I'm only just kicking the jet-lag now) so I'm going to have to let you go, despite the fact that there are a million more stories to tell already! -C

New Adventures

Aaaaaand we're back!

Hi everyone.

As you can all see, I've decided to use the same blog as my 2012 adventures in Bangladesh and India. This is both for your benefit, in case you're at all curious about my previous travel experiences (I know, so selfless of me), and for my own, so that I can keep everything in one spot and because 100daysofcam.blogspot.com already autocompletes in my web browser.

Anyway.

As the subtitle mentions, this blog is going to document the four months I spend on exchange at the Middle East Technical University in Ankara, Turkey, which will be the last semester of my undergrad degree (yes, I need these credits to graduate). After exams are finished, the plan is to travel indefinitely. I don't have a return ticket or a defined destination - we'll just have to see where the world leads me.

 An exchange has been on my radar basically since I started my undergrad, and so it's incredible to finally be making it happen. Plus, I've been itching to travel the world since I've been back from India. It feels like ages ago already. I've had to appease the bug with a bit of North American travel - visits to Vancouver, Boston, New York, Chicago and Winnipeg were all incredible and tons of fun, but I'm more than ready now to be back in Asia.

Starting this adventure is not without sadness. Since it's my last semester of undergrad, I'm saying goodbye to Ottawa as I've known it and a number of people who are incredibly important to me and have been such incredible friends through my undergrad. People tell me that I'll meet new friends on my adventures; undoubtedly this is the case. But I'm not looking to replace the people I've left back home - they're already perfect. I'm happy to add new friendships, which can hopefully be as meaningful as the ones I've left in Ottawa (and all across this country, really, from Vancouver to Montreal to Halifax) but I'm also looking forward to seeing my Canadian friends again in the not-so-distant future.

This post is being made pre-departure at the airport, so I've got all of the travel excitements and anxieties piling up and overflowing. I'm flying from Toronto to Munich (8 hours), with a short layover there before heading onwards to Ankara (about 3 hours), getting me to Ankara mid-afternoon the day before my orientation classes start. The plan is to meet my new roommate at the airport (he'll be flying back to Ankara from his hometown in the east) and together we'll make the trek to what will be my new home. Somehow, in those next few hours, I'll figure out how and where I need to be the next morning, and how to get there, and just hope the jet-lag isn't too bad haaaaaaaaaaaaaa. But actually, my orientation week looks super packed and super fun, and I have a feeling it will be a good start and might produce some storytelling gems!

So with that, I'm off! Can't wait for this adventure to get underway! See you on the other side of Turkish customs!

India!

I’ve arrived and all is well and so far, it’s been a good time! Sorry it’s taken so long to get a blog up, but I’ve pretty much just been dependent on Internet cafes and it wasn’t until now that I could get some wi-fi (so I can put up pics!) and a bit of time!

Warning! This is a long one! So, I’ve divided it into chapters!! That said, still don’t be afraid to skip my long complaints about how much I suck at navigating Agra, or this boring part at the beginning where I talk about my “feelings”.

Chapter 1: Coming to India

Let me just put you up to speed a bit on where I am, both physically and mentally.

Mentally first: So, when I first thought about going to India, I thought it would be the regular run-of-the-mill touristy trip. I’d hit up all the top sightseeing spots one after another – bam, bam, bam (not unlike Italy 2011 with Jess). But since then, lots have changed. I’ve had an incredible experience – an experience of a lifetime – in Bangladesh. I’ve learned so much and seen so much and experienced so much. And to be honest, that’s made me a little tired. Not physically tired, but more emotionally and mentally (see last blog post). So now that I’m in India, I have a new plan. I’m going to take the next three weeks to relax. Sure, I’m going to see the sights (see below for the Taj Mahal!!!!!) and I’m going to travel around, but I’m going to go at a slower pace. No, I might not see quite as much as I could, but frankly I don’t care. I think I’m actually more excited for it now that I’m expecting that it’s going to be more meditative than rushed.

I’m going to try to pick really spiritual places to visit. I want to use the religious ‘infrastructure’ that’s here not just as something to gawk at and take pictures of, but as something to help me contemplate my last few months and meditate a bit and ponder the world and the greater forces in it.

And so that’s how India has been so far.

Chapter 2: Jonathan

I landed in Delhi at about 11am on Thursday (and have only good things to say about Indira Gandhi International Airport. WOW. It’s clean, it’s beautiful, it’s helpful. It may very well be the nicest airport I’ve ever been in!) and took a cab to my hostel. It’s a fairly decent place. It’s in the diplomatic district, so the streets are lined with trees, and everything’s quiet. The hostel’s plain but clean, and has AC. THANK GOODNESS, because it’s brutally, BRUTALLY hot here. Unfortunately, it’s a good jog away from the metro and there are few landmarks around, and so I’ve gotten lost both times I walked to the station…

After getting my room, dropping off my stuff, etc, I headed out into Delhi. I took the metro, which is super nice (though heavily crowded) and can connect you pretty good to across the entire city. And in Old Delhi I met up with my friend Jonathan P from Canada. This guy’s the coolest. He’s one of the people who were so instrumental in getting me set up in Bangladesh. He’s going to be studying at the University of New Delhi starting next week, so he just got in too. He’s super busy, but has still found time for me. After we met, we got some delicious ice cream (litchi flavour!!!) and talked about Bangladesh life. It was so good for me. I needed that.

Then we headed to Jama Masjid: India’s largest mosque. It can fit a whopping 25 000 people, and regularly does just that. It’s from the 16^th century, so it’s not at all new, but it’s still a fully functioning mosque and is still in incredible condition. We burned our feet on the hot red ground (no shoes allowed), but made it into some shade where we could sit. It’s such an incredible building, and has a ton of detail. There are also lots of Muslims around, even when it’s not prayer time. We got quite a few stares (though NOTHING like Bangladesh, I’ll tell you), and got approached by some people, especially kids, who blurt out “How are you?” before getting too embarrassed to make eye contact. Lucky for us, Jonathan is really quite good in Hindi. So he could talk with those around us and translate for me (interestingly though, Hindi has a fair number of similarities to Bangla, so I can pick out words and SOMETIMES even understand the theme of someone’s sentence. It’s like when I hear Spanish and compare it to French). We stayed for quite a long time, just chatting and peacefully enjoying our surroundings, until we got kicked out because prayer was about to begin.

Trying to get the enormity of the Jama Masjid in one picture. Beautiful architecture. 

We went for dinner at a restaurant recommended both by Lonely Planet, and a friend of Jonathan’s. The tandoori chicken was quite good, but the kebabs! Oh, the kebabs! To die for. So delicious. Our meal was perhaps a little meat-heavy but oh so good. A nice way to be introduced to Indian cuisine.

The next day, I headed for the train station to buy some tickets. I definitely took my time there, so it took up quite a bit of my day (but I got some VERY MUCH NEEDED details sorted out; I can now relax at least for the next couple train rides). But when I was done there, I headed across the city to meet Jonathan again. This time, we hit up the Baha’i House of Worship, aka the Lotus Temple. It was AMAZING! It’s an architectural wonder (and made by an Iranian-Canadian too!) and inspiring just to see from a distance. Then when we actually got closer, it was even better! We got a briefing from staff about the Baha’i faith and the purpose of the temple: It’s a multi-faith prayer and meditation centre. So not just those of the Baha’i faith but literally EVERYONE is welcome. The inside is grand (no photographs allowed, sorry), with the amazingly high roof, beautiful marble seats and floors, and excellent acoustics. We took a seat and just meditated and meditated. There’s no limit for how long you can stay, so we took advantage of that a bit. This whole time, the whole room is completely silent. Then bird calls (real birds flying around the roof) ring out. They are such sweet, natural sounds, and they echo through the building. Then there was what I presume is the equivalent of a sermon. A rotation of 4 people (two men, two women) got up to the front and spoke or sang. Again the acoustics created shiver-causing echoes of pure beauty. Especially the singing. It was so gorgeous. This “sermon” was short too – it didn’t drag on. Just the right length of time.

Jonathan and I, with the Lotus Temple behind us.

When we finally left the actual building, we just stayed outside and chatted more – this time largely about religion and the Baha’i faith and that sort of thing. The perfect venue for it. And I really encourage you to take a moment to Google or Wikipedia search the Baha’i faith (because let’s be honest, if you're one of my regular readers, you don’t know much about it, do you?). It’s really quite interesting and moderate, and even pragmatic.

Just some comments on my first impressions of India: I’m so glad I went to Bangladesh first! India’s easier, in a lot of ways. And I feel truly acclimatized to some of the commonalities. When I get ripped off on a rickshaw ride, or basically run over trying to get on a subway, I can just laugh. I can understand the culture, if only just a bit, and take it in stride. There’s no point being angry, or complaining, or letting it get you down. You just move on!

India, or I guess specifically Delhi, also seems to be a real mix of Bangladesh and North America. Some neighbourhoods, like my hostel’s, could almost be Canadian. And some places I’ve seen are more like Mirpur. It’s such a variance!

Chapter 3: In Which I Show a Lot of Incompetence But Also See the Taj

Next, I was off to Agra, home of the famous Taj Mahal. All in all, I’d say my trip to Agra was a bit of a Fail, but at least I saw the highlights. I wanted to also go to the nearby village of Fatehpur Sikri, but my train was delayed (in retrospect, maybe I wouldn’t have had enough time anyway. I don’t know). By a lot. I listened to the announcements for other trains to Agra leaving from other platforms… If I had in fact tried to take a later train, I would have arrived earlier… And I couldn’t go anywhere, because I didn’t want to miss my train, plus I had all my luggage.

The train ride itself, my first in India, also took longer than it should have, so that added to my delay. I was in “sleeper” class, which is a second-class-level seating area. At night, you get a bunk, but during the day you share a bench. The other passengers who were already on the train (probably for lots and lots of hours) didn’t seem too pleased to see me, and even seemed to be questioning my reservation a bit with the ticket inspector (it was in Hindi, I’m only guessing). But actually, they turned out to be really nice (I’m still really bad at reading people in the subcontinent – it’s the same in Bangladesh; I think people dislike me automatically, but after a while I find they’re really interested in helping you out to the max). There were far more people in our cluster of seats than the allotted spaces, so it was pretty cramped (it’s not exactly spacious in the first place). But what was really interesting was the diversity around me. On my right were two devout Muslims, I think in training to become imams or something. One was white, too, and had difficulty in Hindi. But he also didn’t speak English, so I have no idea where he was from originally (he spoke Urdu to his Indian friend. Since many Muslims believe Urdu to be the holy language, that doesn’t help). On my left were two Punjabi Sikhs, who were actually also soldiers in the Indian army. And across from me was an average Hindu family. So neat for my first rail experience!

Finally arriving in Agra, I was exhausted and it was a little late to visit anything. So I just found a room (first try!) and walked around the nearby neighbourhood. I got some delicious Indian food – malai kofta: basically potato in a delicious vegetable curry sauce and then called it a night.

I had planned to get up early to see the Taj in the early morning light, but unfortunately I didn’t feel so well in the morning and took things a bit slow. Lucky, all cleared up by 10ish and I headed out again, set to see the sites. My hotel was mere steps from the Western Gate of the Taj, but my Lonely Planet told me that the South Gate has much shorter lines and a more impressive entrance. Since it was only about 300m away according to local signage, I thought I might as well go there. Then I got utterly lost, developed a blister already (how?!?! Same shoes as all of Bangladesh, and I had days with MORE walking!), and ended up at the EAST gate. “Ok, fine”, I thought, “I’ll just go in this gate”. But no, it’s not that simple! To get a ticket to the East Gate, you have to walk a kilometre further to the east. “Oh well,” thought I, “what’s 1km?” Of course, the kilometre turned out to be uphill and the sun was shining down with killer intensity. I think it was somewhere around here that I first developed my heat rash.

Finally I got a ticket. Now tired of walking, I overpaid a rickshaw-wallah to coast back down the hill with me in the back. I went towards the gate. “Finally, I’ll get in!”

NOPE. I had my laptop in my backpack, and that’s a no-no for the Taj. They told me I would have to go ALL the way back up to the top of the hill and deposit my bag in the lockers there. GAH!

Then I had a clever thought: “Why don’t I backtrack to the South Gate (I’ll ask for directions) and just deposit my bag there? Then I’ll avoid the hill!” So I did that, and managed to find the South Gate alright (though it was very poorly marked. Luckily there was an Asian couple a few metres ahead who were getting lead there). I deposited my bag. I headed to security and presented my ticket… WHICH HAD ALREADY BEEN STAMPED AT THE EAST GATE!!! The guy didn’t want to let me in. He thought I was trying to reuse someone else’s ticket (it didn’t help that I had unceremoniously crumpled it into my pocket in anger). But I explained and begged and another security guard seemed to like me and he told me to just go in. FINALLY!

After all that, the Taj Mahal was worth it. It is truly, truly a beautiful building. My pictures aren’t all that great (kinda an overcast day), but I think that even the best you can find online don’t do it justice. Its immensity, its design, and its story are all beautiful. Shah Jahan, its creator, must have really loved his wife…

The Taj Mahal. What a sight! Pictures don't do it justice.

Something I really appreciate about the Taj (and many other sites I’ve seen in India) is it’s not quite as directed as sights in Europe or North America. I mean, you have a lot more freedom for the path you choose. Inside the Taj itself, you had to follow the directed route, but otherwise you’re basically free to just wander whichever which way, at your own pace. The mosque and“jawab” (just built for symmetry with the mosque) are also beautiful in their own rights. If they were at a different location, people would probably also flock to see them (though you can’t go inside them).

Another note of complaint from me: I was wearing my sunglasses and had left my regular glasses in my checked bag. This was fine outside, but made it really difficult to properly appreciate the intricate patterns of precious stones in the already-dark inside… ugh. Fail.

There’s not much more point in describing the Taj: the whole thing’s gorgeous from every angle. Come visit me and see all my pics when I get home. Or better yet, plan a trip yourself. So let’s skip ahead until I leave the Taj grounds.

I took lunch at a little café – it was empty, which is normally a warning sign for Indian restaurants, but it had a glowing review in Lonely Planet. And the food – or, especially, the lassi – was worth it. But then I dined-and-dashed. Sort of. By accident.

So I finished my lunch all relaxed and casual. I was hot, my lassi was cold, and there was no rush of people looking to take my seat. The man who served me food took away my dishes, but then disappeared somewhere while I read my Lonely Planet, and so when I finished, I didn’t even think about money. I just walked out, la la la. I hailed a rickshaw and heckled a price and headed out. AND THEN REMEMBERED I DIDN’T PAY! Luckily, we hadn’t gone too far. I ran back up to the café, but actually had to wait for someone to show up, because it was deserted as much of staff as of customers. Finally a woman appeared and thought I wanted food. It took me a while to get her to understand that I was trying to PAY! Fail again.

Then I went to Agra Fort. It was another beautiful building, and I think I enjoyed it just as much as the Taj Mahal. I got an audio tour, but again, you’re allowed to wander very freely inside the walls, so I took advantage of that quite a bit too. I found some corners that were basically deserted and it was just me enjoying the beautiful, 16^th century palace. Some of it is rundown a bit over time, but other parts are very well maintained. And with the help of my audio guide, I got a really neat vision of what life must have been like for those ultra-wealthy Mughal emperors. It’s like the Versailles of the East.

Crumbling Mughal glory: Agra Fort

Having taken my time in the Fort, I just had time for a light dinner before catching my train back to Delhi. It was also a little late (not quite so much, thankfully), and also took longer than it should have. I was also in second-class seating (even less – much less – space than the sleeper class) so it was a little tight. Luckily, I had some conversation companions. I was squished beside a hilarious French couple, who also told me they were EXTRA delighted to have someone to speak to in French since they’ve only had their own broken English to rely on the past few weeks of their trip. And across from me were some young Americans, about my age, who were in India on a Mission Trip. So I didn’t get bored, even though I arrived in Delhi at midnight.

As a final FAIL to tie off my Agra trip, my taxi driver was a really jerk-head. He told me my price was fixed from the station to my hostel, and so I agreed, even though it seemed a little high (also, I was tired, and didn’t care, and was at a new station, so didn’t really know distances). But then as we drove into the city, he told me he didn’t know where my hostel was, even though he said he knew back at the train station. He had to stop for directions several times, but then upon finding out where it was told me the price would increase by 300 rupees (a considerable sum, in India) because it was farther than he thought. I was angry, and told him no, but then he just said he would stop where we were, then, and leave me there. It was the middle of nowhere and there were basically no cars around. Certainly no other taxis. Remember, it’s after midnight. So I had no choice to accept. Finally we arrived, but when I paid him (a truly exorbitant price) he tried to take even more for “his tip”. I LOST IT. I demanded the “tip” back and asked for his registration. The hostel security guard came out to see what was going on, and the man hastily retreated to his taxi. The security guard pieced together what happened, and was totally on my side. He also yelled at the taxi driver, but he drove away. Then the security guard told me I should have called the cops on him. I know that’s true, but unfortunately didn’t get his registration. I was too exhausted.

Chapter 4: Fantasy Rock Garden

The next morning, bright and early, I headed back to the train station, this time headed for the city of Chandigarh. I was in nicer seating for this ride; about equivalent to VIA, but with meals included and served (even for a relatively short journey). It was very nice. The only weird thing was that when I arrived at the station 3 different people tried to tell me my train was cancelled. They pretended to be station staff, but I guess they were scammers. Thing is, I can’t really think of what their motivation for saying that would be… if I believed them, I would just go exchange my ticket at the ticket office, and find out I had been lied to. I’d be out a bunch of money, but I don’t know how they’d get it… Anyway, I ALMOST believed them because I couldn’t see why they’d lie. I’m just really glad I didn’t and that I checked the platform myself! Comment if you think you know the scam please!

Chandigarh is a really interesting city that would especially appeal to Brother Nick and probably Evelyn too, because it’s all about urban-planning. The modernist planner Le Corbusier planned it, and it’s ultra-structured. It’s divided into numerous sectors, named by number (example, my hotel was in Sector 22-B), of roughly the same size. There are a lot of straight roads, but also a lot of trees and parks and green space. Whether or not you like the style, I think you have to appreciate the vision and its successful implementation. Chandigarh is also infinitely cleaner and quieter than Delhi, or other Indian cities I’ve heard of (though it has its moments too).

I only had ¾ of a day to see Chandigarh, so sightseeing was limited, especially since I also had to buy some more train tickets (= long lines). My first sightseeing destination was Nek Chand’s Fantasy Rock Garden. And yes, the place is as strange as the name. Here’s how the story goes (Cameron’s Adapted Version. Not responsible for historical inaccuracies, but I think I’ve got it down):

After Partition in 1947 (in which India and Pakistan came into being, separate from Britain and, importantly, each other. See Wikipedia: ), a lot of Muslims and Hindus crossed the borders to be “with their people”. One such person was Nek Chand, coming from Pakistan to India. India was also like, “Let’s build a cool new city where all these Muslim villagers used to live!!” So they tore down all these villages and got Le Corbusier (see Wikipeide: ) to design their new masterpiece city. Nek Chand was a civil servant in the area, and noticed the amount of garbage and debris from the demolished villages. He didn’t like it, so he started hording it off in some obscure corner of government land. Here, he began to make statues. And walls. And all manner of things, using this garbage. Smashed tile, old barrels, bags, everything. And he began to make a little rock garden of garbage-statues. 15 years later, it wasn’t really small anymore. Some other government employees came across it and were like “WTF Nek?!?! What is all this?!?!” It was on government land, and should have been demolished. But everyone agreed that it was actually all pretty cool. So they gave Nek a full time job and a bunch of employees to make his Fantasy Rock Garden into a real tourist attraction. And so it is. It’s a maze of waterfalls and (sometimes creepy) rock-people peering at you from strange places. Sometimes there are just a few here and there, other times there are entire armies of them. All in all, actually pretty cool! And a neat way to reuse garbage!





A minature army of recylced-garbage people.

After the Rock Garden, I retreated to the Rose Garden, which is a huge park with almost a hundred varieties of roses. It wasn’t prime rose season, the grass isn’t cut nearly as meticulously as it would be in North America, but it was a nice place to just relax and think.

Then I started getting approached by people, many of whom wanted me to buy homeopathic medicine (???) or who had other random bits of advice for me, and I decided my time in the park was finished for the evening.


---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Now that I’ve tried to write this out, I have to stop before I’ve actually “caught up”. This post actually only puts us at the morning of the 24^th of July, but it’s just become too long, and I don’t have time to finish and post pics!

I don’t know if I’ll get a chance to post again, but I really hope I do. I have so many more stories to share! But I hope this at least gives a taste of what I’ve been up to.

Just for your curiosity (I’m assuming that if you’ve read this far, you’re kinda interested in what I’m doing), if you’re following along with a map/google searches of places I’ve been, my next destinations after Chandigarh were Shimla (favourite place so far!) and Amritsar, where I met my friend Priya. Then I came back to Delhi where I am now, and where I met up with Jonathan for a day again. Tomorrow morning, I’m off to Haridwar, then I’ll head to Varanasi with Jonathan next weekend. That’s the extent of my plans at this point!

So that’s that. I REALLY hope I can post at least one more time to catch you up on even just a few more of my crazy, hilarious, exciting, frustrating, mind-boggling and emotional experiences.

-C

Is that a statue to the Monkey-God Hanuman at the top of a small mountain in the Himalayas near a Temple where I had an incredible experience that I can't wait to tell you about? Why yes, yes it. Near Shimla. If I blog again, I'll tell the story. If not, make sure you ask me about it when I get home!

Tears

And now it’s time to say goodbye to Bangladesh.

It’s been a busy, hectic and exciting past few weeks, but tomorrow I leave the country! Hard to believe my time here is already over!

I don’t have time to write the kind of blog post I want to and should with the amount I’ve done, but I’ll try to touch on the highlights.

A big one was a visit from the Executive Director of Dipshikha to Rudrapur. He’s really an awesome man (more on that in a second). He also came with a new Dipshikha staff member at the Dhaka office named Jesmin. She’s really nice and I think she’ll be a great asset to Dipshikha. I’m also happy because she’s not replacing anyone – she’s an addition. This means Dipshikha is expanding – yay!

Mahbubul (the ED) and Jesmin spent most of their time in Rudrapur in meetings so I didn’t see much of them while they visited. But they also invited me to join them the next day on a visit of some other Dipshikha sites. I jumped on that in an instant! We went by private car (traveling in style!) first to Bakultala, in the Birghonj thana (thana basically means county. It’s just an administrative division, don’t worry about it). Bakultala is a small site, but with a lot going on. They listed for me all the projects they have going, but I don’t remember them all. But there was definitely an emphasis on credit and on income-generating activities. It was super exciting to hear about it all! We even got to sit in a few minutes on a workshop to develop entrepreneurial skills in local villagers. They were all of their own accord, and it was really great to see their earnest faces eager to learn! There were tea-shop owners, and rickshaw drivers, and cosmetics salesmen and farmers. So neat!!



Bokultala. A pretty little site! The Area Manager just to the right of the tree, then the Dipshikha ED, then Jesmin.

After Bakultala, we visited Bhobanipur (ok, I REALLY think I have the name slightly wrong. I have it written somewhere, but I’m not unpacking my suitcase again to find it. Normally they just call it Birghonj, because it’s in that thana). Again, Bhobanipur has a focus on income-generating activities and credit programs. We met some tailoring students, and they showed us these cloth strawberries they make. They then sell them to souvenir shops in Germany, and get a personal profit from the strawberries they make. It was cool, because it was really tangible. For each strawberry they make, they get 15 taka or something. Really cool!

After lunch in Bhobanipur (which was goat meat! My first time, and so good!!) we headed out to the field. This was one really cool experience. We drove out along some dusty, bumpy road into as rural an area as I think you can get. Then we visited a family (or rather, several families) who are Dipshikha beneficiaries. When we arrived, people just started streaming into the house –by the time we left, there were literally more than a hundred people (I counted) crowded around us! But what was really neat was Mahbubul walking me through the Dipshikha Family Development process. I got to see info cards for the family, where they record information about number of family members, income generation, education, health, and everything else you can imagine. Very thorough. Then we could see the report diary of visiting Dipshikha workers, where they record progresses and setbacks. And, we could see the family’s vision and plan for their future. They had recorded what their dreams are for their family: children graduating from college, a tin roof, some more land, a couple cows. We got to see the self-diagnostic programs, where families could rate their own levels of poverty based on several factors, and plot their own improvements as they achieve their goals. Then we got to see the cow the family bought with a Dipshikha credit loan (now paid off!), and their vegetable garden, and the daughter’s grade 7 notebook, which was supplied by Dipshikha too. It was a really good experience for me. I got to see some other aspects of Dipshikha and was very, very impressed by the work I saw. Dipshikha gives me hope for Bangladesh. They are doing genuine work for this country.

Returning to Rudrapur that night, my time essentially became a long drawn-out goodbye. For one thing, the high school students were saying goodbye first. They have a government exam at this time (lasting something like 11 days), which they actually complete in other schools. In fact, METI is not a government-approved high school. So, students are registered in 2 schools –METI, and a government school. They attend METI 5 days a week, then the government school on Saturdays (I’m only learning this now, of course). So, their last day at METI was the Thursday before I left Rudrapur, and for some, before that (they were taking a few extra days at the government school for practice exams, etc). So I had to say the very sad goodbyes, especially to grades 7 and 9, which I spent a LOT of time in, and who had really grown on me.

Then the next week was my last couple days with METI. My last day was the saddest. I didn’t teach any classes, just floated and took pictures and sang songs and tried to spend every last minute that I could with those beautiful children. Then when I finally went to the grade 5 class (who I’ve also spent a lot of time with) in the afternoon, I broke down. They had dozens of flowers for me, and gifts of all sorts. Once the crying started, it scarcely stopped. We had a football match – grades 3, 4, 5 – for which I managed to put my game-face on (we still lost), but then we had our closing ceremony for the day.

The students had prepared literally hundreds of flowers for me. Several of them came up to offer them to me. Then a couple students asked me some questions about my time in Bangla, and a couple gave short speeches. And then, each and every METI student (well, primary student) came up one by one to shake my hand, to get a hug (I can’t help but go on a tangent for a moment here. Only males could be hugged, since I’m a male. Hugging across the gender divide is seen as highly indecent, even among married people. This was tough for me, because of course the girls mean as much to me as the guys do. But I decided to maintain cultural appropriateness) and to say goodbye. SO SAD. :’(


When the students had finally streamed out, I had my last cup of tea with the staff members. Again, sad.

Then came my goodbye ceremony with DESI. Again, they offered me more flowers. They sang me songs, and made me sing, and even made me laugh a bit through my tears. But it was emotional for all of us and crying was, admittedly, the main theme.

But what’s most important is that I’m happy to have met them. That this goodbye is so difficult shows how much they’ve impacted me. How much they have taught me. How much they have come to mean to me. How much I will miss them. And how much I’ll remember them.

DESI: The best of friends.

My travel day back to Dhaka was another horrible one. After final goodbye hugs in the early hours of the morning to DESI and my closest METI friends who live nearby, as well as all the staff, I headed out by ‘van’ (they call it that in Bangladesh, but really it’s just a rickshaw with a flat wooden square being pulled, instead of a seat, so it’s practical for both people and goods) to catch my bus in the nearby village of Mongolpur.

The ride was terrible! What should have been a maximum 8 hour bus ride turned out to be more like 11 and half hours! We were held up by accidents and terrible traffic jams and my phone died so I couldn’t even call Dipshikha and was just left feeling anxious about that the whole ride (I really didn’t need to be. The Dipshikha staffer who was meeting me was getting regular updates from the bus office on our position. But he still had to wait a ridiculous amount of time for us to arrive). Exhausted, emotionally-drained, but back in good ol’ Dhaka.

Today, my last day in the country, I spent finishing up my final report, and then in a meeting with my supervisor, the Executive Director, and other Dipshikha staff. It was a good sharing opportunity, and they even presented me with a beautiful jute bag! I love this organization! They are so good! If you’re reading this, you should volunteer with them!

So that brings us to now. Tomorrow, I’m off to India! A whole other adventure awaits! I have no idea how much blogging time I’ll have in India – it’s only three weeks, and I’m moving a lot, and I don’t know how often I’ll get internet.  But I’ll try my best to get at least a few in, preferably with pictures!

-C



Me with (most of) the Grade 5 class. I love these kids.

P.S. I know there aren't very many pictures in this one, but I don't have too much time to wait for my internet to stop being silly. Early flight tomorrow, gotta get some sleep!!



The Great Ant Terror of June 2012

Rainy season is now well underway. It wasn’t hard to distinguish it from “the hot season”, since one day all of a sudden it just started raining – hard – and didn’t stop for the entire day. Every few days, this happens again. I love it because the temperature becomes bearable (as I write this, though, is actually an exception. I’m sweating like mad, and I’m just sitting under a fan, typing). Bearable temperatures have also meant that playing football (obviously soccer, not American) is now a possibility. The first day was definitely the most memorable. When we started, the clouds were just starting to roll in, and there was a comfortable breeze. And then the first drops fell and they almost immediately became torrential, and suddenly you’re slipping and sliding in the mud and laughing so hard that it hurts. When the game and the rain finally ended, I took to jumping and splashing in puddles like a six-year-old. It was awesome.

One of the most notable occurrences in recent days was the visit of Payal, a University of London Master’s student in Sustainable Architecture. One of the most interesting things about Payal, though, was that she’s from India; she’s only been in London a few months for study. So, she offered a really neat outlook on the experiences I’ve been having. Since she’s from India, she’s accustomed to eating with her hands, she can deal with the heat, and she’s habituated with poor infrastructure, bad government schools, and the like. But on the other hand, she’s an empowered woman – highly ambitious and in complete rejection of the implicit and explicit sexism that underlies Bangladeshi society. Also, she grew up speaking English, and so also watches English movies, reads English books, and uses other English media. So, her outlook was a bit of a mix between my Western view and the local one. This made her a really good conversation partner and I think she really helped me to begin processing a lot of what I’m experiencing. I could openly share my frustrations, observations and other thoughts with her (and, since she’s the only perfectly-fluent English speaker I’ve met in Bangladesh, I could do so with zero difficulty), and she could respond with her own commentary on what she noted and expected, what she understood and didn’t understand. It was really good, and at this point in my trip really refreshing in a lot of ways.

Candid shot of Payal with some METI students (notably Porimol on the left - the Dipshikha chef's son)

Payal also did an amazing job in pushing some boundaries (in a really healthy way) in the short 5 days she was here. I don’t think I’ve mentioned this, but Roman’s wife (who you may remember from the post “The Long and Winding Road”) has come to Dipshikha on a more permanent basis. She has a little room in the back corner of the Dipshikha compound, where she spends most of her time. But Payal didn’t just accept this to be the way things are. She talked for hours with my “Bhabi” (this means brother’s wife, and it’s what Roman and his wifre have asked me to refer to as), built her trust quickly, and learned that Bhabi’s quite simply bored. Her life is basically cooking and cleaning, with chunks of time between breakfast and lunch, and lunch and dinner when she literally has nothing to do. I don’t know how much Payal’s advice will affect Bhabi long-term, but she was urging Bhabi to ask for a teaching position in the school, to offer an optional drawing class for students (Bhabi’s one hobby is art), or to at least help Kalpana with the JK class (there are 41 5-7 year olds. Help is always needed).

While Payal was here, she naturally got invited to a ton of houses, and some I was invited to tag along as well. One in particular was Ram-mamma’s. I have no idea if that’s really what his name is, or if it’s like a title, or if I’m not even hearing people correctly when they say it, but that’s what it sounds like to me. Anyway, he’s one of the Dipshikha caretakers. He invited use to his home, just steps from Dipshikha. And then he fed us an ENORMOUS amount of food, from homemade potato chips, to mangoes. And somehow Payal managed to guilt me into eating most of it all, while she just ate while Ram-mamma was looking… It was generally a pleasant visit, but when we left I was stuffed and guess what? It was now dinner time. Neither of us were hungry, so we decided to save our dinner for a couple of hours and eat with Roman and Bhabi (who generally eat much later than dinner is served for the rest of us). But, just our luck, Bhabi had prepared some special dishes just for us. So basically, I ended up eating three dinners. Three Bangladesh-sized dinners. It was ridiculous. I actually don’t think I’ve ever eaten that much, including all my Thanksgiving turkey binges. I literally couldn’t shove anything more down my throat by the time I gave up on dinner 3. Sweetie and Don enjoyed a nice meal instead (if you don’t know who I’m talking about, it’s because you haven’t been reading my blog properly. Shame on you.).

In other news, my room – and particularly my bathroom – have reached new levels of terrifying over the past few weeks. One major scare was the appearance of a giant spider, deciding to take up permanent residence in my bathroom. She was probably a good 3 or so in diameter, and visibly furry. And worst of all, her eyes. They were big and glinted in the light and I felt she was watching me. She didn’t seem to fear me at all – if I made noises or threatening gestures she would (unlike cockroaches, who are chickens) actually approach me. Maybe she knew I was bluffing. Anyway, it was bad enough when she was just lurking on the wall. But then she migrated to the toilet-paper dispenser. Every time I entered the bathroom, I would have to locate her, and keep an eye on her in case she decided to dart towards me. Then one day, I came in, and couldn’t see her anywhere. I hoped she had died, but then had a sudden thought (thankfully). I checked my bath towel. Sure enough, there she is. Ugh, I’m literally shivering just remembering it. It was terrifying. I’m not a spider-fan at the best of times. One day she disappeared for good, and again I hope that she died somewhere out of sight (I’m confident that my ant friends would deal with her body), or that she decided to leave my room (and of course I mean ALL my rooms. Not just bathroom. I’m just trying not to imagine her having migrated to the main room, where she might run across my foot or find her way into the pocket of my backpack or something…

The other major insect-in-the-bathroom scare came from the otherwise generally benign ants. Yes, I’ve known there was a colony living in the door frame of the bathroom since I arrived. Sometimes they crawl up me while I’m brushing my teeth, but they were generally harmless and we coexisted peacefully. Then came The Great Ant Terror of June 2012. It started one ordinary morning when I went to take a shower. While I routinely emptied my bladder (beautiful imagery, I know), I noticed the ants to be a little feisty that day. They were crawling up my leg pretty quickly, in pretty large numbers. But this had happened before. No big deal.  I swept them off, stopped on a few around my feet (I like to think that the subsequent ant behaviour was a concerted reaction to this mini-massacre) and turned to brush my teeth.
But now there were more on my legs. Too many to brush off. It was like a horror film. I started killing them indiscriminately, stopping and swatting. But the more I killed, the more seemed to be crawling on me. And then in horror I look towards the crevice where they live and see a literal black wave swarming towards me (think orc legions in Lord of the Rings). I just had enough time to jump over the horde back into the main bedroom before the entire bathroom floor was covered in ants. Then the walls too. I swear, everything was covered. It was so terrifying. Above all else, I hoped they wouldn’t migrate into my bedroom. I tried to remain calm going to breakfast, but I let Ram-mamma know right away. He didn’t seem all too concerned and it wasn’t until several hours later (all the while, I’m imagining them all over my room. Though I did cautiously check in and they were still only infesting the bathroom) that he finally asked for my key to let him check it out. Of course, the bathroom was now barren. I tried to explain that it was really bad. But he just offered to clean the room. It was like a dream, but I saw it. I know I did. I’m never going to be so trusting of ants every again. In fact, I just may have developed a new fear…

You're so cool!

There’s an interesting animal I’ve seen around Diphshikha pretty regularly lately (see above). It’s some kind of lizard, though the exact type, I don’t know. I challenge you to find out and comment (yes, Mom and Julien, you can use Google). I think it’s pretty cool. But apparently its saliva is poisonous and it’ll spit it at you if you get too close (I haven’t seen this happen, even when the dogs chase it and get pretty darn close…). It also makes this growling sound when it’s angry and puffs its chest. Kinda neat.

Jackfruit! Remember that fruit that none of you could identify way-back-when? I’ve tasted it. Actually, quite a few times! And I really like it! As I mentioned before, I had heard that foreigners don’t tend to like it, and Melinda J. in particular had me worried that I would hate it. Instead, I think it’s quite good! Filling, but with a taste a bit like bananas. And a juicy, squishy, sticky texture.

Which reminds me. Because the jackfruits are in season now, sometimes when they reach the correct ripeness, they fall naturally from the tree. By coincidence, this happened on my roof a few days ago. Those things are huge now, so it made a terrifying 'boom' (especially on the metal roof) that scared me into questioning the structural integrity of my building. Luckily, when I rushed outside, the culprit lay smashed just outside the gate.

The other time falling fruit provides interest is when it's a mango. Particularly in the 'back corner' of Dipshikha where Bhabi lives. There are a few other rooms where Fahim's (grade 4 student - mentioned him before), two METI teachers' and another Dipshikha staff member's families live. When a mango drops from a tree and hits the metal roof, there's a mad dash out of every door. Every family seems to have a representative ready to dash outside. It's hilarious to watch, especially at night when everyone's stumbling around with a flashlight trying to find the mango!

Happy Canada Day! Of course, that was a few days back, but some of you might be wondering how I celebrated. Obviously, Canada Day isn’t widely observed here, so most of my celebrations were very personal. I made a playlist on my iPod of all the Canadian artists I have, and especially listened to Gordon Lightfoot a lot. I ate the 2 Swedish Berries I had been saving since the plane ride just for this occasion as a reminder of home. And I dreamed of Canada and family and friends!
I didn’t exactly tell everyone about Canada Day, but some reason I just felt excited about it in the morning and couldn’t help telling some people, like Rashid, since he’s experienced it in Canada before. He went on to tell a lot of the METI students, so that partway through the day, everyone was wishing me a Happy Canada Day. My grade 7 class even picked red flowers for me, which I stuck in my hat. It was a quiet day, yes, but a nice one.

That afternoon, I was also invited to visit the home of one of these grade 7 students, by the name of Jibon. We went by bike (me perched on the back of his, that is) and it was about 4 or 5 kilometres away. As I’ve learned already, a visit to one’s person house is very rarely only that. Normally, you also visit the homes of brothers, sisters, uncles or cousins as well, and this time was no exception. We stopped in at Jibon’s sister’s place, and then his uncle’s. At both places, we ate. Or, I ate to be precise. A lot. Mangoes mostly, but also eggs and bananas. Then we finally got to Jibon’s where I ate again, and was drilled with the usual questions from the family about my country and family, etc. It was generally a really good visit. Jibon’s a good kid, at me accepting his invitation seemed to make him very, very happy, so that’s good. I guess now’s as good a time as any to just talk about my students. Classes 9, 7 and 5 in particular are classes that I visit very regularly. The kids are all awesome and I know I’m really going to miss them! Then there are students from all the other classes, from the adorable JK kids to the giggly grade 4 class to the polite and mature grade 10 class. I’ll miss them all!



My ridiculous Canada Day hat (compliments of the grade 7 class), with Fahim (left) and Matthew

Jibon (far left) with his family.

I have less than 2 weeks left here in Rudrapur (and I’m at Day 65 out of 100)! On the 17^th I head back to Dhaka for final report submissions and tying all the loose ends with Dipshikha off before heading out. How is that even possible?! I don’t know, but it’s true. I don’t want to be counting down days, but I sorta can’t help it. Not in a “I can’t wait to get out of here” way, but in the “how can I possibly say goodbye after such a short time” kind of way.

Oh well, I’m going to squeeze the most out of it as I can!

-C


Just tryin' to steal some goat babies!