From Pabna

I’m sitting in Razu’s house now, after a scrumptious dinner with his wife and sisters-in-law. Razu works at DCH, and is one of four sons. All of them live here with their wives and kids in this old Bangladeshi-style house with a courtyard. When I came in, four women ushered me into my own bedroom—with attached bathroom and commode!! It is glorious...I can deal with the ant infestation and cold-only shower. They came in and we talked for a while, to the very limited extent my very limited Bangla can sustain, but they are really nice and warm, and it doesn’t take any language to share that.

As Molly warned, they had me sit down at the dinner while they stood around and watched, pointing out the line of ruti, shobji, mach, chicken (okay, that’s not Bangla), salad, bhat… I told them boshun, boshun! (Sit, sit!) and finally they smiled and sat at the table. I asked about their children and their husbands, they asked me if I was married and what I thought of Bangladeshi men.

This family is wonderful. I feel so cared for and safe here, this fieldwork trip has gotten off to a good start. Pabna is much more developed than I expected it would be. I was expecting very rudimentary wood houses, in fields. Instead, it is like a small town version of Dhaka.

The bus ride over was five hours, but in an air-conditioned albeit cramped bus that was quite nice. The green scenery was beautiful...rice paddies all around, rivers and ponds and banana trees. Sohel and I listened to my iPod--am even more madly in love with the Opportunes--talked about how he met his wife and his son, and he asked me about my love life. When I told him I was nineteen he was taken aback. Apparently he thought I was somewhere between 25-29. CRAZY. Do I really look that old? No wonder people think my mom and I are sisters. Anyway, I can tell that Sohel will be the perfect guide. His years and years of experience on the project and in water and sanitation means that he’ll be able to give me the background story for my questions, and we’ll be able to actually start a discussion.

Last night, I finally got my membership at the American Club. I was getting a tour and walked into the pub bar, said hi to this group sitting there. “Join us, I’ll buy you a drink!” one of them said. It was great times. They all work at the embassy and we talked ideas for 80’s party costumes—they’re throwing a huge one at the end of March. Mr. and Mrs. Pac-Man has to take the prize. Someone suggested Michael Jackson…but does anyone really want to be Michael Jackson? I mean, just think about it... But anyway, Leverett, watch out! Dhaka American Club is the new place to be.

Another positive note: I discovered volleyball!!!! Four exclamation points can’t even contain my excitement, I never thought I’d get the chance to smack some hits in a place where spandex would be so risqué I might be fined. But apparently there is a team at the German Club—I will be able to get in with my American Club membership—that plays every week. Game on!