Grocery Shopping this Weekend

This weekend I got to go shopping with both of my parents, and I finally convinced Dad to bring his camera along.

For 70 taka (about $1), they bought four limes, a big bunch of cilantro and a kilogram of potatoes.

A dozen eggs (or "twelve piece") in a mesh bag with nothing to keep them from cracking costs 80 taka, or just over $1.

I told Mom just to let Agnes buy our fish and shrimp until we have this whole thing figured out.

We ate beef stir fry that night!

Shumi and Wickets

I made some friends today.  It’s a good thing the Bengali children I met are so extroverted, because I slept through most of our first meeting, but I think they still liked me a lot. 

I’ve been feeling kind of sick lately and coughing a whole lot, so this morning Mom and Dad didn’t think I should go to church and hang out in the nursery.  Of course, my fever broke right around 10:30, which was too late to go to church, but too early to stay home the rest of the day.  We decided to go for a walk, which started by skirting around some Friday morning traffic.

Once we got by all of those rickshaws, I decided to fall asleep.  That didn’t keep people from wanting to stare at me, though, and the other kids are the boldest.  I love that they aren’t at all shy about walking along next to me and holding my little toes while I dream.  In this picture, Shumi is in the pink and Dulali is in the red shorts.  They were super helpful at pointing out where to get the best vegetables and making sure I didn’t miss any billboards with colorful signs.  I’m the one in the Ergo pack.  The woman in the orange sari is the one who kept pointing out that I was gorum, or hot.

While dad was taking a couple of pictures of us all, he was invited into a pickup game of Bangladesh’s favorite sport, other than football.  So, he took his first ever swing at a cricket ball.

The Pitcher

The Batter  (I'm sorry I was distracting Mom while she was using the camera.  She's still taking her photography lessons from Dad.)

It was fun to hear Mom and Dad using all of their Bangla words in one day, and still having to tell the kiddos that they really had no idea what they were saying.  I hope that we get to go play again soon!

Shoutout to my Mishi!

This woman, my mishi, or aunt, got a job offer today!  She’s a real nurse, and Mom Skypes her with all of her questions about my growing body and running nose.

Not only is she a good nurse, but she’s also great at making me happy.  She gave me this giraffe, who I’ve named Gilbert in honor of one of Mom’s students and the city where Mishi Angie lives.

She also makes me laugh and smile when I look at all of the notes she put into all five of our duffle bags when we were flew to Bangladesh.  She even hid one in Mom’s book!  It’s a tradition passed down from my Davidson grandparents, and I’m glad Mishi carried it on!

Agnes

Agnes comes for a few hours every day to help me keep our house neat and to make sure Dad has food to eat when he gets home from teaching.  She’s a wonderfully nice woman who grabs my arms rather roughly, but is helping me learn to stand for longer and longer periods of time.  She also makes delicious chicken curry, shrimp stir-fry and rice that never, ever sticks to the pot.  I’m not sure how she does it, but am trying to learn.

When she first came to our house, Mom didn’t know what to ask her to do.  It is a little weird for another woman to be here during the day with us.  Sometimes, when I just want to take a nap or Mom wishes she could wear shorts instead of her shalwar pants or khakis, Agnes is in the bedroom sweeping or asking Mom about shopping.  Also, it seems really strange to have someone helping us when we are not at all used to that.  Dad’s bosses have told him that this is a cultural thing, and is OK, though. 

So, we’re trying to get used to Agnes and learn how to be her friend.

One thing that has been really cool about living with her in the afternoons, is that I’m learning some Bangla.  For example, did you know that “dar chini” means cinnamon?  She also calls me “bhalo” and “boro” all the time.  I think she’s saying that I’m good and big.  At least, I hope that’s what she’s saying. 

One of the funniest things that she does is quiz Dad if he gets home before she’s left.  She likes to say, “Apne bhalo atsen?” as soon as he gets in the door.  If you know my dad, you know that he likes a minute to think when he finishes work, so it’s pretty funny to watch him look over at Mom and me for help to remember that he’s supposed to say, “Ami bhalo atsi.”

He should be home soon now, but Agnes already left.  I’ll have to get my bubbles ready to blow at him instead of her quiz.  I hope he’s had as good a day today as he has all the other days so far.  He is really enjoying teaching his students about volleyball and the Vikings!

Shortbread Dhaka Style

Inspired by Mishi’s blog, Mom and I decided to mix up some shortbread and document the process.  I wrote down the steps while Mom did the mixing.

1 - Gather all ingredients.

2 – Let the butter melt a little in the kitchen.  This should take just about 3 minutes because the kitchen is still warm from cooking dinner.

3 – Add the sugars and stir.  Then add the flour and stir.  Guess on all measurements using a glass because you’re in a country that uses metric measurements and you don’t have measuring cups anyway.

4 – Smooth it into a buttered dish.  Score it into sections, and poke it with a fork so it comes out looking like Walker’s shortbread.

5 – Refrigerate for about 30 minutes.  Keep in mind that you need to open and close the refrigerator very quickly because the power has been cut off for the fifth time today.

6 – Check that you know how the oven works.  Figure out what 300 degrees Fahrenheit is in degrees Celsius (about 150).  Realize that you don’t know how to light the oven when the power is off.  Even though it is gas, it uses an electric starter.  Ask the neighbors what to do, and call dad to help turn it on using a match.

7 – Bake.

8 – Skype Mishi Angela to ask if it looks done.

9 – Disregard instructions to wait until it has cooled to avoid crumbling and cut a slice for Dad because this was to be his “Congratulations on your first day of teaching!” treat and it’s already time for bed. 

10 – Remember to mix up a glass of Anchor powdered milk, and enjoy.  

Dad's First Day

It's Dad's first day teaching at Grace International School today.  I know he's going to be a great teacher, because he's really great at teaching me to read!

We Found Dhaka Today

Mom and I went for a walk together at lunchtime.  In the morning we usually walk straight down Lane 5 to the pond in DOHS, our neighborhood.  Sometimes in the evening we turn left when we leave Lane 5 and go to the Pick and Pay shopping area or to Gulshan Lake.  When Dad takes me to school, the van takes us left as well, and we see many of the areas of Gulshan.

Today Mom turned right.  For five blocks, we were in DOHS looking at apartment buildings and a street that is swept every day.  For the next hour we were in real Dhaka.  When we left the gate of our neighborhood, the road curved to the right.  On the south side of the road, there were dozens of rickshaw wallahs waiting there to take us wherever we needed to go.  On the north side, between the railroad tracks and us, were shacks; bamboo, burlap and plastic shacks.  If there had been more, it would have looked like Tijuana or Enseñada or Kathmandu, but there were only twenty or so, the number that could fit in the small strip of dirt before the railroad tracks.  After these, we saw small stalls spilling over with long beans, spinach, cucumbers and papayas and alternating with dimly lit barbershops hosting caroms games behind half curtains. 

For the next hour we wandered through dirt and brick alleys lined by tailors, more barbershops, TV shops, baskets of live chickens, piles of chicken feet, abandoned buildings, potted vegetables, rickshaw makers and people.  One group of women carrying empty water bottles followed us for about ten minutes chattering away.   A boy about four years older than I kept running ahead of Mom so he could stare back at me.  Men and women said “baby” and “good baby” as we walked by.  One man tried to sell Mom what she thinks was some type of water lily and was at least twice as tall as me.  He was using a short machete to explain this.  One man walked by with a parrot in a cage.  Three women stopped eating their curry yellow dal baht and stared at my feet hanging out of my carrier as we passed their shack.

I hope that I learn to talk with these people, to ask about their lives and hear about their beliefs.  Many have probably never left this area of the city, but I’m sure I have a lot to learn from them about living when life can be hard and about priorities.  I hope that I also have some of God's love to share with them.  I'm just not sure how.    

Two Firsts

I had my first rickshaw ride today.  Forty taka for a twenty minute ride from Gulshan Two to Our House on Lane 5, DOHS.  Our driver was amazing.  He hardly sat down at all, which is good since his seat was only attached on one side. 

Mom also bought her first shalwar kameez today.  It’s a long shirt with really loose pants.  Actually, I think she could fit about three of her in the waistband of the pants before she cinches them up.  The remind me of chef pants.  The outfit also comes with an orna, or long scarf.  That’s my favorite part because I can chew on it whenever she’s carrying me.  

Now I'm just spending some play time in Mom and Dad's bedroom because it is the only room with a working air conditioner.  You can see the mosquito net and Dad reading behind me.

This is Lane 5, our street, at 5:30 AM, before all the rickshaws are out.

Bowman in Bangladesh I (from 2 August 2010)

Mom has the air conditioner above our living room window turned to 31 degrees Celsius.  That’s about 87 degrees Farenheit, if she’s taught me the right formula.  (Teacher Uncle Seth, can you confirm this with all of your random elementary school knowledge?)  That feels cool compared to what we just came from outside.  Everytime she tries to set me down, though, I still stick to her.  I think I’m going to stick to everything for the rest of my life!

This is our third day in Dhaka, I think.  I’m still not sure because I’ve been sleeping and waking at strange times. 

We live in a flat that Dad’s school arranged for us before we came.  It came complete with dishes, sheets, mosquito nets, and my new friend Geico the Gecko who lives in our kitchen.  He’s missing a tail, but quite handy for eating other small critters that aren’t nearly as cute as he is.  It also has four bathrooms for some reason.  The best part about the bathroom off of my room is that it already has a handy spray hose for my dirty diapers.  In America people pay extra to get those installed. 

Each day we’ve been here we’ve explored a bit.  Down our street, Lane 5, there is a small pond bordered by trees, flowers, a playground, and a workout area with old jugs filled with cement that Dad can use as weights when he wants to work out.  He’s more excited about the basketball hoops that are also there, though.  About five blocks from us there is a mall with everything from a Pick and Pay grocery store to three pharmacies to a ribbon store.  Farther on than that, there’s a real Bangla market with live chickens in whicker baskets and all sorts of vegetables Mom can’t tell me the names of.  I haven’t ridden a rickshaw yet, but Mom told me her first ride was loads of fun and that balancing on them with me will help her develop her sense of balance and core strength.  What I have ridden in are the school vans.  They’ve brought me to Dad’s school (two of the three campuses so far) and to a grocery store where Mom saw Snickers and canned corn. 

I’m about ready for a good afternoon nap, but I want to ask you to pray for my dad.  He’s got lots to prepare in the next few days since starting next Monday he will be teaching PE, Bible and geography to students from year three to year eleven.   I think he’s going to be the best teacher, and get these students to play all sorts of sports they’d never be able to play otherwise!

Bowman on a Boeing (from 29 July 2010)

Here we go!

I just want you all to know that I have been so good about napping and sleeping nine hours through the night, and now Mom and Dad tell me that Bangladesh is 12 hours ahead of this great schedule I’ve figured out.  Good thing I’m such a good baby and have promised to adjust!

Bowman in the Back Room (29 July 2010)

While we were preparing to move to Bangladesh, we got to spend just over a week in Arizona.  While I was there, I prepared mentally with a lot of thought and prayer, 

but also managed to get in some good play time in the pool and over bocce ball at the park.

Grandpa let me visit him at his office,

Mishi let me celebrate her birthday with her,

and Mormor held me while we helped Grandpa harvest the first grapes from his vines.

I even got to share some of my prayer requests for chances to meet all kinds of people to love and who will love me when we get to Bangladesh when some of the great ladies of Arizona threw Mom and me a shower. 

Also, I was dedicated to Christ at Grandpa’s church.  It was very meaningful, but my short attention span had me flirting with the girl next to me while Grandpa was praying.  Still, I understand that this means Mom, Dad, my whole family and many friends are committed to raising me to love God and understand that he loves me.

Of course, I know that life has many aspects to it.  Along with my spiritual dedication, I’ve also been learning to exercise my physical body.  You can see how much I appreciated my workouts with Couzle Nate, my trainer.

(insert funny video of me laughing with Nate here.  Uploads from Dhaka are a bit slow at the moment.)

Thanks everyone who’s helped me prepare for this adventure to Bangladesh.  Our family really appreciates all the help packing and moving boxes, storing furniture and gear, enjoying our favorite places in Montana, and packing five under-50-pound suitcases!