I'm sorry it's been a while. It was not by choice. Mainly it was a lack of internet mixed with my brain not being able to organize thoughts. I still have not quite been able to put everything eloquently but I thought I'd give you something.
In terms of touristy things you haven't missed much in my life. My adventures have been more internal the last few weeks. Since arriving in Bangladesh I spent time in Dhaka and a few days in Kushtia (a small, proper Bengali village). This time in Bangladesh was eye opening (but I'll get to that in a bit). After Dhaka, I spent two days in Kolkata (after a 14hour bus trip) with Maureen who is a friend from Mount Holyoke who came along to Bangladesh. We saw so much art! Like proper contemporary Indian art. And experienced diary hand how creepy colonialism can really be. Kolkata is ridiculously historic. The whole time I just wanted to jump back to the 18th century so I could be on a trading ship at the height of this cities growth. Than again, colonialism is seriously shitty, so there is another conundrum.
I think something I have been realizing and struggling with due to this section of my trip, is the very real fact that there are levels of privilege. I knew that this was true on an intellectual level, but the more of the world I'm interacting with (from vastly different avenues) is making it tangible to me in an all too apparent way.
For example, my friend Aniqa (who I stayed with in Bangladesh) and her family/friends are very privileged according to Bengali standards. I never really thought much about the difference between our worlds (even while at her house) because she lives a very "western" lifestyle. Yet, we were having a discussion about traveling (or work or something along those lines, very standard) and someone brought up the fact that it was quite easy for me to be traveling the way that I am (no prior planning) regardless of how much or little I am spending, because I have an American passport. This means I don't have to deal with getting visas (for the most part) and when I do it's relatively easy.
This thought really stuck with me. To me it speaks to privilege; from my own, to Aniqa's, to the 'Bua' who helps out at her house with cooking, cleaning, and such. But it speaks to more than that as well. It frustrates me because the assumption that being a certain nationality inherently privileges one person over another. By the mere fact that I was born in a certain location, I am extended a right of human movement that many others are not. This is something I have been upset about before but in this circumstance there is a direct impact on my world. It put the whole 'check your privilege' into a whole new light.
I saw the epitome of unfair privilege on much smaller scales all over Bangladesh. We were riding on these pallet bike ricksha things (van-garies) on our way to where we stayed in the village, Kushtia. I was sitting on the back watching everything pass by with my legs dangling off. The same vehicle contraption behind me/us had two middle aged, perfectly healthy men riding on it. They looked relatively well off; nice clothes, showered, etc. The man who was driving the cart was visibly lower on the figurative 'totem pole'. He was obviously working to make his living and they were just lazily taking a ride. The thing that hit me hard about this (since I have been on my fair share of ricksha rides and I have been the 'privileged' so many times) was that the driver, bike rider was cripple. His feet were both deformed and yet here he was working hard, making his living through manual labor (and not begging). The two men riding were perfectly able bodied but seemed to be squandering their ability to walk normally. It just makes my heart want to explode a little...
In a lot of ways I admire the driver. He was dealt a tough hand and instead of folding he was pushing through the life blocks. However, I was yet again confronted with this total inequality and instead of feeling lucky for my lot in life, I just feel like crap. I have so much and what am I doing? I'm fulfilling some flighty dream of traveling the world. I am looking out for myself when comparably I do not need anymore privilege. I haven't quite wrapped my head around this massive web of inequality that I am so tangled up in, but I am trying. I feel like everyday on this trip I shed a few more layers of an onion, thus filling my eyes up with even more tears. In other words, the more I seem to understand the more confused I become.
Anyways, here is a Rohim anecdote (to lighten things up a bit!) This kid (who is the child of the 'help' that Aniqa's family has) really likes to poke the cat (kitkat) that Aniqa's brother Zia rescued. So he was doing this at one point and Aniqa's father catches him. He tells him "Rohim, that is not allowed, hasta (gently)" and shows him how to stroke the cat. The next day a bunch of bags full of stuff was delivered to the house. Rohim's first reaction was to go up and start poking it to see what was inside. Right as he does this the father walks in. Rohim immediately, without skipping a beat looks up at him and starts stroking the bags, with a 'I know I can't poke them but stroking is allowed, yes?' He's just such a little rascal!
What a mad house. Between this kid (who is basically a cat), an actual kitten, and Aniqa's family themselves. It was so much more entertaining just staying at the house than even going anywhere, which took about 50% longer than needed. When we did go out and about we were gawked at for being white (as usual), or sneaking around rooftops with Aniqa's friends (who are essentially the 1% of Bangladesh).
This post can't even come close to expressing the internal struggles I am dealing with. Being exposed to a portion of a culture I grew up in, yet am distanced from, in a way that I can relate to intellectually and emotionally has been a lot to unload all at once. So ask me about it at some point and I'll most likely talk your ear off!
Maybe my next post will go more in depth into the things we did and events that occurred while in Bangladesh/India but for now, this has been a dose of psychoanalysis with Dharma!
In terms of touristy things you haven't missed much in my life. My adventures have been more internal the last few weeks. Since arriving in Bangladesh I spent time in Dhaka and a few days in Kushtia (a small, proper Bengali village). This time in Bangladesh was eye opening (but I'll get to that in a bit). After Dhaka, I spent two days in Kolkata (after a 14hour bus trip) with Maureen who is a friend from Mount Holyoke who came along to Bangladesh. We saw so much art! Like proper contemporary Indian art. And experienced diary hand how creepy colonialism can really be. Kolkata is ridiculously historic. The whole time I just wanted to jump back to the 18th century so I could be on a trading ship at the height of this cities growth. Than again, colonialism is seriously shitty, so there is another conundrum.
I think something I have been realizing and struggling with due to this section of my trip, is the very real fact that there are levels of privilege. I knew that this was true on an intellectual level, but the more of the world I'm interacting with (from vastly different avenues) is making it tangible to me in an all too apparent way.
For example, my friend Aniqa (who I stayed with in Bangladesh) and her family/friends are very privileged according to Bengali standards. I never really thought much about the difference between our worlds (even while at her house) because she lives a very "western" lifestyle. Yet, we were having a discussion about traveling (or work or something along those lines, very standard) and someone brought up the fact that it was quite easy for me to be traveling the way that I am (no prior planning) regardless of how much or little I am spending, because I have an American passport. This means I don't have to deal with getting visas (for the most part) and when I do it's relatively easy.
This thought really stuck with me. To me it speaks to privilege; from my own, to Aniqa's, to the 'Bua' who helps out at her house with cooking, cleaning, and such. But it speaks to more than that as well. It frustrates me because the assumption that being a certain nationality inherently privileges one person over another. By the mere fact that I was born in a certain location, I am extended a right of human movement that many others are not. This is something I have been upset about before but in this circumstance there is a direct impact on my world. It put the whole 'check your privilege' into a whole new light.
I saw the epitome of unfair privilege on much smaller scales all over Bangladesh. We were riding on these pallet bike ricksha things (van-garies) on our way to where we stayed in the village, Kushtia. I was sitting on the back watching everything pass by with my legs dangling off. The same vehicle contraption behind me/us had two middle aged, perfectly healthy men riding on it. They looked relatively well off; nice clothes, showered, etc. The man who was driving the cart was visibly lower on the figurative 'totem pole'. He was obviously working to make his living and they were just lazily taking a ride. The thing that hit me hard about this (since I have been on my fair share of ricksha rides and I have been the 'privileged' so many times) was that the driver, bike rider was cripple. His feet were both deformed and yet here he was working hard, making his living through manual labor (and not begging). The two men riding were perfectly able bodied but seemed to be squandering their ability to walk normally. It just makes my heart want to explode a little...
In a lot of ways I admire the driver. He was dealt a tough hand and instead of folding he was pushing through the life blocks. However, I was yet again confronted with this total inequality and instead of feeling lucky for my lot in life, I just feel like crap. I have so much and what am I doing? I'm fulfilling some flighty dream of traveling the world. I am looking out for myself when comparably I do not need anymore privilege. I haven't quite wrapped my head around this massive web of inequality that I am so tangled up in, but I am trying. I feel like everyday on this trip I shed a few more layers of an onion, thus filling my eyes up with even more tears. In other words, the more I seem to understand the more confused I become.
Anyways, here is a Rohim anecdote (to lighten things up a bit!) This kid (who is the child of the 'help' that Aniqa's family has) really likes to poke the cat (kitkat) that Aniqa's brother Zia rescued. So he was doing this at one point and Aniqa's father catches him. He tells him "Rohim, that is not allowed, hasta (gently)" and shows him how to stroke the cat. The next day a bunch of bags full of stuff was delivered to the house. Rohim's first reaction was to go up and start poking it to see what was inside. Right as he does this the father walks in. Rohim immediately, without skipping a beat looks up at him and starts stroking the bags, with a 'I know I can't poke them but stroking is allowed, yes?' He's just such a little rascal!
What a mad house. Between this kid (who is basically a cat), an actual kitten, and Aniqa's family themselves. It was so much more entertaining just staying at the house than even going anywhere, which took about 50% longer than needed. When we did go out and about we were gawked at for being white (as usual), or sneaking around rooftops with Aniqa's friends (who are essentially the 1% of Bangladesh).
This post can't even come close to expressing the internal struggles I am dealing with. Being exposed to a portion of a culture I grew up in, yet am distanced from, in a way that I can relate to intellectually and emotionally has been a lot to unload all at once. So ask me about it at some point and I'll most likely talk your ear off!
Maybe my next post will go more in depth into the things we did and events that occurred while in Bangladesh/India but for now, this has been a dose of psychoanalysis with Dharma!
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