Perfect timing

    We still have two milestones remaining before we may actually leave for Bangladesh: the sale of our house in Bath and waiting on the last bit of financial support. What has been a pleasure to discover is that we aren’t antsy or impatient.  A year ago, when I imagined what this stage would be like, I imagined we would be in limbo, confused and nervous.  Instead we’ve been given a peace that makes little human sense.  

     Every additional week has proven necessary in some way – whether for detail we hadn’t thought of or someone whom we could see or spend more time with.  Even as I work at a small local hospital, or fill out seemingly endless forms (six copies of each!), or just spend a day carrying boxes, I’m rested. 

A friend of mine, Steve, says, “When I do it, it’s called procrastination, but when He does it, it’s called, ‘His perfect timing’”.

Counting the Cost

Most of the time, if you asked me what I was thinking about, I'd probably respond:
   "I'm wondering about the best way to run a wire for this outlet."
   "I have to decide whether to purchase a 10 yr tourist visa to India to make our 3 month BD visas easier to renew"
   "I need to remember to write down the list of documents I need for medical licensure in BD".
But it's all busy, logistics & urgent.

Our three older children remember Bangladesh fairly well, and happily.  They are excited about going (I think it feels to them a little like a long awaited party: inevitable and yet drawing nearer at an imperceptible rate).  Then, the other day for the first time, Mary said, "I don't want to go to Bangladesh because I'll miss my grandparents and my friends." Of course, an hour later she was excited about school there, but she's thinking about it.  She's grieving a little, counting the cost of going.  It's good, if a little hard.

As Laura and I work on the last few hurdles before departure, we are busy enough much of the time with to-do's that thought beyond the immediate present is banished.  With children, they are usually thinking, not about logistics, but about what will be, about how they feel about it now and what will change.  There's a big difference there.  If I'm not careful, I could wake up one morning in Dhaka to the sound of the azan and have no idea what has happened in the interim or what I think of it.

When we fill our lives with NPR as we drive, music as we run, nytimes.com, facebook or blogs in a free moment, or as we fill our waiting-in-lines with smartphones or even use our smartphones while talking to our kids we fill all the interstices of our life with noise, where we used to think, where we used to Think about hard things, where we used to face things.  It's easier to think about logistics.

I've been practicing turning off my radio and, as a discipline, not checking the news online.  I've been thinking, "I'm going to miss my family and my friends."

Grade B movie

In my office in the States, I occasionally had the privilege of conversations outside of the norm of "What's your blood pressure?" or "Where's the pain?".

Once, TC, one of my perpetually cheerful & funny patients (this is his T-shirt) seemed a bit subdued.  I asked him what was on his mind, and he responded, "I saw a grade B
movie last night and one of scenes disturbed me."

"What was it about?"

"Well, I doubt it would bother anybody else: it was just a throw-away line, but it hit me square between the eyes.  I'm having trouble shaking the feeling; you'll probably think I'm nuts."

"I doubt that"

"Well, one actor turned to the other and said, 'Are you living just to live?' and almost immediately I asked myself the same question.  You probably think I'm crazy to be hung-up on that."

"Not at all.  I can't think of a more important question."

Out of Breath

In the interest of disclosure, this photo is borrowed from a fellow trainee's blog - I forgot my cable for downloading photos

In our training group here in Colorado there are 39 adults and 30 children, so after lunch and after dinner the playground out back is absolutely swarming.  I took it upon myself to create an obstacle course for the kids: up the rock climbing rock, ridge run, jump to the ground, across the monkey bars, down the slide and back to the start.  Of course I had to demonstrate (25 seconds!) - and collapsed on the grassy bank afterward, my chest heaving.  More than 7500' feet above sea level there is distinctly less air.  I was wiped out.

In a very different way the classes are exhausting.  Our language learning techniques section is over and now we have embarked on the cross-cultural/conflict section - we were told the former was all technique/brain, the second would be 'all heart'.  So far, that's an understatement.

It's one thing to mentally assent to cultural differences, conflict, another to have your own unrecognized prejudice held up like a mirror *this far* from your face.  It's useful, effective, but hard.  I alternate between thinking our primary instructor is a genius and hating his guts.  When I have a chance between sessions to catch my breath, I usually revert to thinking he's a genius.

A statistic - out of the 39 of us, they tell us, 31 of us will leave our posts prematurely due to stress/culture or conflict.  Sobering, but we're all eager to go.

Language School

It is essential to be able to speak the language to communicate love and respect.

So, No.  We've not mastered Bangla (the language of Bangladesh).  I can tell you that this says "Bangladesh", but what we're really learning right now is the 'phonology' - meaning the sounds of languages.  English uses 44 different sounds, some of which are not used in other languages and many sounds in other languages are not found in English.  This will help us learn how to learn Bangla.

   At times this feels kinds of silly; you sit there with eight other adults making "fff" sounds then "vvv" sounds, then learning what a glottal stop is.  It sounds like it should be some questionable sound deep in the throat, something you should say "excuse me" after doing.  Really, it's normal:  I'm not sure I can describe what it is but you do it when you say the 'e' in 'eat'.

We were strictly instructed to take this seriously (and we all made very long faces). Then we practiced making sounds that sounded vaguely like a chipmunk learning swahili followed by sounds like Kermit the Frog gargling.  

Tropical disease course

This is TB (the little red rods)

I arrived somewhat sleep deprived (15 hrs in the last 3 days) just before midnight last night in Baltimore to a bear hug from my friend Andy.  Despite knowing only that my course in tropical medicine began at 8:30am, but not where, exactly, I did make it there in time for the first lecture. Turns out out they had my email address wrong, but also that they didn't inform everyone who's address they had correct until 4 days ago.  Almost feels like Bangladesh already :-D

This week is TB and HIV: today covered several things including multi-drug resistance, socioeconomic effects, prophylaxis, testing, public health approaches etc.  I was riveted.  I just might be in the right profession.

Hurly-Burly

What had the bunny seen?  Did he know too much?  

This has the feel of a real whodunnit.

In the hurly-burly of preparing the 1,422 different things that need to occur in the next months, there are some fun moments.  Four kids provide innumerable humorous interludes.

As we prepare to return to work in Bangladesh, we often feel quite small.

Our children often have the experience of feeling small next to large things.   They feel surrounded by forces and movements they barely comprehend or cannot perceive, yet they trust us to provide and prepare for them.