The Beauty isn’t Lost in Translation (+Cyclone)

The Beauty isn’t Lost in Translation (+Cyclone)

It’s not a classic sound, not one people usually write about (at least affectionately), not one which normally brings a wide smile to one’s face, or one people would travel thousands of miles to hear. But waking up to it after my first night in Bandarban was a welcome change to the traffic, horns and throbbing of Dhaka. ‘Squeal’ went the pigs, then silence, ‘squeal’ again. I opened the door to my small balcony and looked out. Three small pigs, two pink, one black were hurtling around the wide open communal park area by the Buddhist monastery with the giddy enthusiasm of CNG drivers, 8 year olds on the first day of the summer holiday. The significance of my squealing chums was that I was somewhere different, new…. and where they eat pork.

  

As soon as you enter the Chittagong Hill Tracts after the eight hours of endlessly pancake flat green rice fields you’ve travelled from Dhaka on roads where no one drives, just overtakes, you feel you are escaping to something. You rise via whiney little roads into the hills which seem to close up behind you. I stared in wonderment at lush greenness of the slopes, my lungs sucked in the fresh air scented with. It reminded me a little of Luang Prabang, the former royal city in Laos, the hidden feeling, special, secret. The beauty of Bandarban has charmed me in my first week set in a peaceful valley, Buddhist and Hindu temples here and there, ringed on two sides by a wide river and surrounded by lush green forest covered steep hills there is a sense of seclusion, peacefulness. A large amount of the houses are still made from Bamboo, communal washing ponds are everywhere giving out a feeling of calmness and the Marma (predominant local tribe) market is full of amazing fresh fruits, fish, crabs, vegetables and tribal wear. As I walk around, I feel a lucky to be here, here for a year, it’s something else, just hope I can access it, live here.      

  

Nice bag sir! It’s not my bag!

So the scenery is being beautiful, but what am I up to? Well, it’s very much a learning experience at the moment, one that requires a sense of humour and a lot of patience. I understand very little Bangla, the employees of my organisation, and indeed most people I’ve met in Bandarban understand very little English. Dictionaries are reached for regularly and confused, slightly nervous grins are a permanent fixture. I’ve stumbled into a few situations of Bill Murryesque dumbfoundment. Being shown round the tribal wear market by the father of BNKS’s (my org) Executive Director, he gestured to some bags hanging from a hook. I admit they were very decorative if a little feminine but he kept asking if I liked them. Not for me I thought, but Christmas isn’t too far away and perhaps either my mother or sister would appreciate one, so I pointed to the one with the most tassels and elaborate floral designs. Before I knew it this hyper-feminine bag had been purchased for me and fitted to my shoulder. ‘Gift!’ exclaimed my new friend. So, out of desire not to offend the kind gent, I now own and occasionally sport a lovely red bag about the town. Another time I was sitting having chai with two work colleagues when suddenly expressions of fear and terror spread across their face. ‘Mosquito!’ they exclaimed and pointed to my face. What they had located and kindly pointed out to the interest of the rest of the café was a stubborn little pimple I’d tussled with earlier in the morning. Unsure which was worse (bit or pimple), or even how to explain in Bangla what the red intruder on my face was, I then received an elaborate unprompted drama complete with sound effects of the dangers of mosquitoes and back at the flat all my widow shutters were slammed shut blocking the breeze.

Everyone is incredibly nice and concerned for my welfare which is very comforting but I feel a bit wrapped in cotton wool at times, which can be suffocating. Every night has been spent indoors either reading, watching Derby loss at football on TV or trying to access the internet. When I’ve travelled before I normally dump my bag and head straight out for a wander. But here all the staff members have advised against walking about alone. I’m sure this is more over protectiveness but my lack of Bangla and the sheer uniqueness of being the only Caucasian here (with any connotations that might bring) mean I’m taking it slowly, whilst trying to avoid worrying my colleagues by incessantly disappearing out and about. It’s only been 9 days of this so far, but there is a desire to get out, explore, live here. Otherwise, by just listening to music and reading inside – I could be anywhere.  

  

In addition – partly due to the slow internet connection, but more due to my camera braking, blogs (if I can get an internet connection to post them), are likely to bit rather wordy for the foreseeable future, sorry.

Cyclone Sidr

Although I was over 100 miles from the path of the cyclone and the Chittagong Hill Tracts suffered comparatively very little damage, I thought a few people may be interested to know what it has been like in Bangladesh this last week (most of this information is from Bangladeshi newspapers, television and my limited knowledge of the country, so I apologise if I make any errors). If people are hoping for information on how to help or reasons for the colossal damage, I don’t feel my limited experience and knowledge qualifies me, although, as with most issues, a donation, living sustainably and buying as much fair trade and environmental goods and services is a start.

The region hit by the cyclone is a very flat area no more than a few metres above sea level. Hundreds of rivers and streams criss cross the land, virtually all of which is farmed by the densely populated rural population of which the majority are either living in poverty or just above poverty. In this delicate environment people have developed unique agricultural techniques to make the best use of the land and are reliant on their crops, or on their fish and shrimp farms to feed themselves and earn an income, just to survive. After the cyclone hit (and hit is the word, as it seemed to be unexpected), between 2000 and 5000 people (this could rise to 10,000) lost their lives, 4 million people have been affected, 270,000 houses flattened, 181,222 acres of crop land destroyed and 240,000 livestock have been killed (In short – a region the size of East Anglia and a population the size of Manchester, Liverpool, Leeds, Sheffield and Birmingham combined has been decimated). The people who suffered these losses are the poor, the most vulnerable. “If I don’t’ get any food now, my remaining children will not survive. I don’t have anything left, just this sari on my back” said a woman hopefully queuing for any relief food available (Daily Star 20/11/07). They cannot afford insurance, so once they loose their land/house/livestock/family they are left with nothing. All their investments that they have made in land, houses, work have been permanently wiped out. They have to start putting their life back together again from scratch and hope to do this by finding work (if paid work is available in the post-cyclone economy). The immediate impact has been brutal and there is a slight state of shock about it. As the relief effort gets underway, the wreckage sorted through, bodies buried, it is the long term impact, the one the press will lose interest in, which may hit the hardest. A quarter of the World Heritage Sundarbans – the largest mangrove forest in the world and home to countless rare animals, birds and plants has been destroyed. The entire harvest in this area has been obliterated, food prices will rise, livelihoods are ruined, wages will be hard to come by, loans taken out will be hard to repay, the ability to rebuild the lives of the one million families affected will be a battle everyday for a year, two, perhaps three etc. Bangladesh has proved its resilience as a country in the past and will do so again. And whilst the donations of aid from wealthy countries to support the relief process are both needed and welcomed, perhaps commitments to reducing greenhouse gas emissions and to fair trade (from governments and people) may prove a more successful long-term solution. If Bangladesh is seen as worth it.