Value

Looking at each other 

We have a few days before formal language school begins, yet.  Though I have been studying and we're still outfitting the apartment (it takes a couple of hours just to go purchase the simplest items), today there was an hour when I was not doing anything.  I felt a little uncomfortable - good grief, I should be doing something!

Where does our sense of identity and value come from?  I suspect there are a variety of very common sources.  Do you draw a sense of value from what you accomplish each day or from your job? I think these two are quite common.  Do you find your identity in what others think of you?  How you look?  In some group membership? What happens when any of these falter?

Annie (5) and I had this interaction today:

"Annie, do you know why I love you?"
"Ummm... because I did my work and my teacher was happy?"
"No, though I'm glad you did"
"Because I'm kind and tell the truth?" Oh, it was very tempting to say 'yes'!
"No, though those are good things."
"Because I hug you?"
"Oh, I like hugs! but no, I love you because you are my daughter."

As a very young child you know you have intrinsic value, that you are loved unconditionally by your parent.

Daily life #2

I didn't expect to be writing a medical post so soon!

Unfortunately, I've developed a case of conjunctivitis (pink eye). It will get better so it's not that bad; it's just unpleasant.  It occasioned my visiting a pharmacy.

Virtually every box on those shelves is a prescription medication in the States.  Here it's not.  Anything back there can be had without a prescription - hopefully you know how to use it properly. This does not create an issue with medications of abuse (i.e. narcotics) - none are available.

Daily Life #1

Our cook top

Some initial impressions of daily life here:

This is an aluminum pot that I believe is called a 'Calabash' - and it does look like a Calabash Gourd. We use it solely for boiling water - tap water in Dhaka must be boiled first, then cooled in the pot next to it and then passed through a high-quality filter system.  We boil a full pot each evening and let it cool overnight to keep the filter reservoir full.

Very light traffic

There is construction everywhere in our neighborhood (Banani).  Each of the high-rise tenement buildings you see in this photo are actively under construction.  Lower floors may be inhabited even as the upper floors are being built.  It seems every other block has one or two new buildings with piles of rebar and gravel outside.  The children's school lost its only access to a small sports field to a new building.  And the only direction is up.

This is Unimart.  Basically like Walmart.  Yep.  Even in Bangladesh.  It's fairly new.  It is convenient because everything is in one place, and there are certainly things you can purchase that are hard to find elsewhere (Quaker Oats Corn Meal, for example!).  But it is much cheaper, after haggling, in the old market (much more about that later).

   Traffic: when riding in a car, this is a common view, aside from the double decker bus.  For anyone who notices that this was taken from the left front seat, the driver sits on the right in Bangladesh, as in the U.K. - I wasn't driving.
   Traffic is ... there are hardly words.  Take 53 bicycles and rickshaws, 17 motorbikes, 5 big buses, 20 cars and a bunch of CNGs (the little green three-wheelers above) and put them on about 100 yards of road.  Have some parked, some making U-turns, all of them constantly weaving and jockeying for position, a few rickshaws going the wrong way, pedestrians crossing mid-traffic and add some intersections without traffic lights.  Horns & bicycle bells are in constant use, but not as expressions of displeasure; they are used to announce your presence to vehicles in front of you to help everybody adjust to your arrival.
   What is amazing is that it is not *quite* chaos.  Your progress forward may be in fits and starts, and the standard distance between the rickshaw you are in and a car is measured in inches, but it flows (more or less) in a constantly adjusting, risk-balancing, organic motion and din.

Apartment

We are settling into our apartment in Dhaka.  Well, unpacking anyway.

We have a water view!  Granted, the shores of Lake Banani are, perhaps, less-than-pristine, but it affords a cool breeze through our windows.  That's the other side of the lake, by the way.  It's not very wide.

Apartments in Dhaka are generally supplied bare.  There are no ceiling fans, no built-in AC units, no washing machine, no fridge etc.  We were able to purchase the fans and AC units from the previous owners, along with some furniture and a good water filter (very important).  This very nice couple also left a few basic dishes, a drying rack, and generally a few essentials to make our life easier in the first few days (i.e. TP).

We are still quite jet-lagged: we were coherent enough to run errands this morning (with help), but not this evening.  Clear progress!

Dhaka

We're in Dhaka! and more than a bit jet-lagged.  I find it hard to think straight, can't do simple math and have no appetite, but I'm happy to be here, finally.  It will improve.  We'll have some photos in future posts when we're a little more put-together.

Tonight is our second night in the guest house.  Tomorrow we will move into our apartment and try to get local cell phones, shop for food and other necessities, etc.  Our country director and teammates have been wonderful, helping us plan and think through everything, and accompanying us when shopping.

I feel like a two-year old.  I don't know how anything works, don't know what most of the sounds I hear are, and don't understand most of what people say.  This is exactly what I was told to expect during training, but it's wild to experience it.

Good night!

Tickets!

We are the proud owners of six one-way tickets to Dhaka on 14 Oct.

Slow Down!

I have waited for this moment for several years - the time when we will actually be 'in the funnel' to leave for Bangladesh.  It has frequently seemed just over the horizon, and on the few occasions when it seemed nearer, it wasn't.  I've been antsy, restless and even occasionally persnickety for the last six months.

Now, with the house under contract, departure suddenly seems imminent.  Part of me can hardly stand to hope, of course - certain something will go wrong with the sale.  The rest of me, unexpectedly, is saying, "Slow down!" - I walk across the yard and it seems too vividly green.  The cool Maine summer seems more perfectly temperate.  Our friendships seem unbearably sweet.   How can we possibly leave this?

In this place I've been consistently shown the need to slow down and pay attention, and it seems it has now been arranged.  I will remain on blood thinners until early October and we may not leave until after that, but for once I'm not champing at the bit.  That will come soon enough.  

"Get Well Soon, Daddy"

This is the view from my hospital bed - I especially like the banner.

Right now I am profoundly grateful that we have remained in the States longer than anticipated.  I have spent the last two weeks in the hospital after unexpected surgery followed by a few complications, and had we been in Dhaka, it seems probable that the outcome would have been different.  I am almost entirely better now, though I will have to remain in the US for three more months to finish my treatment.

As a little icing on top, our house went under contract today.  If all goes well between now and closing, then I will be the last hurdle for our departure - a year later than hoped, almost to the day, but right on time.

Sufficient.

Sometimes in my profession I have to say, "I'm sorry, there's nothing more I can do."  It's very old-fashioned.

It seems impossible that in this day and age there's anything that medicine can't do, and physicians are often reluctant to use those old-fashioned words.  Instead we say, "Well, now we have to change our focus." or, "I'm not sure, let's see what the specialists have to say." or, "We can't cure this, but we can continue to treat it".  There's lots of ways around it, but we musn't ever say something as hopeless as, "There's nothing more I can do."!

In the movies, the doctor always says this when someone is about to die.  But it's  not uncommon in less serious situations.  There are injuries from which we never fully heal.  There are illnesses from which we reap some permanent damage.  There are scars that never disappear.  We may have a permanent ache.

Perhaps we wish it away, whether the 'thorn' is in our shoulder or our heart.  But sometimes we shouldn't.  Because of that ache we may be reminded regularly of something we must remember but would wish not to.  Or it points us to something we need that we'd like not to.  Or it imparts wisdom (like my left shoulder does, every time it goes, 'clunk!').

The interesting thing about that old-fashioned phrase was that whenever I did use it, the effect was never hopelessness; instead, it was usually peace.

Another edition of our regular column "Overheard in our family"

Episode 2:  
On the way to Sunday School.  (AE is 4, MK is 6.)

AE: "When will ALL the schools end?"

MK: "At the end of the world"

AE: doubtfully "That's a long time in school..."

MK: "Yeah, it is. You'll learn lot."
pause
MK: singing "I'm a frog...on a pony...I'm a frog...on a pony...." etc.
The rest of the song is pretty standard fare: a protracted narrative about the frog and a pony going to our Sunday meeting.  The frog may not have had much choice - apparently he was stuck to the pony's nose.  We heard rumors that the frog was a dark jedi.

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Episode 3:

"Daddy, It shouldn't be 'Scaredy cat'; it should be 'Scaredy cow', don't you think?"

A lego wedding "This is the bridesmaid.  Here's the bride waiting for the groom....              AAAAARRAAARRRRAAARGH......I'm a zombie!  I'm attacking the bridesmaid!"

"Jack, please don't rub your toast in your hair."

"Mommy & Daaaddy are 'diculous....Mommy & Daddddddy are 'diculous...." meant as a compliment.  Sung while surfing around the kitchen on a dustpan.

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We are fully funded.  Thank you, all!
In addition, there are several interested parties looking at our house right now.
You know what we need!