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Category: frustration

Visiting another culture: Bangladesh

Recently, I had the opportunity to visit Bangladesh for a week with a group of 10 Australian women. We were there to visit the work of Baptist World Aid Australia, who work through several in-country partners. We saw the work of only two of those partners: Baptist Aid and PARI (Participatory Action for Rural Innovation).

We were all leaders of women’s ministries from various Australian states, apart from one student who came with her Mum. (It was great to have a younger perspective with us!) The intention was to bring our first-hand stories home, so we can raise support for BWAA during leadership activities.

A little bit of SOSE (Studies of Society and Environment)

I had not known until preparing for this trip that the country itself is home to 160 million people. They are squished into a space a little bigger than the US state of Iowa .  . . Or in Aussie terms, ⅔ the size of my home state Victoria. (Although currently I live in Tasmania.) This density of population alone was enough to cause terrible traffic congestion, even without the poor condition of many of the roads.

As you can see from the map, Bangladesh is pretty much surrounded by India, and has one small border with Myanmar. When I left Australia, there were reports in the media of a huge refugee crisis, as millions of Rohingya, a persecuted people group, escaped to Bangladesh from Myanmar. However, our travels were not taking us into that region.

Bangladesh map

Dealing with my preconceived ideas

We all have ideas about a country, even if we don’t know we have them! These are shaped by previous personal experiences, hearsay from other sources, or unrelated imaginings. They all colour our first experiences of a country. And to be brutally honest, because of my preconceived ideas, I wasn’t really looking forward to the trip.

This is because, years ago, I’d had a pretty difficult time during a 6-week trip with a group of 13, run by my church to India. And had no itching desire to go anywhere like it! As I journaled about it in the weeks before going away, I realised there were a few overlays on the India trip that were no longer relevant for this trip to Bangladesh. For example in India, we travelled with three of my own children, ranging in age from 22 months to six years old. But this time, there would be no small children to consider. That was a huge difference!

Also, that trip to India was my very first experience of Asian culture. And the culture shock was overwhelming. Everything – the food, the noise, the squash of humanity, the level of poverty, the clothing, the language, the traffic, the smells – absolutely everything, was completely unfamiliar. Now, all these years later, I’ve done a lot more travel, especially to Asia; I’ve consciously developed my food preferences; I have appropriate clothing in my wardrobe; and I know so much more about world poverty than I did then. From that perspective, it was quite a different trip, not because Asia has changed, but because I have changed!

As I journaled all this, I made the decision to rise to the challenge, and decided looked forward to the trip with what you might call “reluctant expectation”. As a side note: Journaling is such a helpful process, and I recommend you  have a go at it, especially if you have something you need to work through. My journaling helped to sort out my emotional responses, before I even arrived in-country, and that was very helpful.

What we did

So, I arrived in the capital, Dhaka, one Saturday in January, after a very long day. It was 10pm before we arrived at our hotel. With the time difference, my body clock was telling me it was 3am – and I’d got up at 4:30am that morning for my first-of-three flights!

We spent the next day or so de-jetlagging, acclimatising and enculturating. Surprisingly, it was quite cool, as it was winter in Bangladesh. The days were only 20-23˚, and there was very little of the expected humidity. Most mornings during our visit the whole country-side was covered with a thick, wintry layer of fog. This was a surprise. I’d been in India at the same time of year and it had been terribly hot. Another preconceived idea fell off the wagon.

We went out shopping on our first afternoon, all glad of the opportunity to purchase some culturally appropriate clothing – tunics and pants, called salwar kameez, or “Punjabi suits”.  Matching scarves were de rigueur. For the rest of the week we were going into remote villages where tourists (read: Westerners) do not go. Being representatives of aid agencies and NGOs, it was important we didn’t cause a stir with our Western-style clothing. Modesty means different things in different places, I had discovered in India. (Well, that was one bonus!)

Shopping in Dhaka with the Team

Outside a modern shopping mall, in Dhaka, with the team

What we did next

For the rest of the trip we were based in Mymensingh – three-hours slow drive directly north of Dhaka. It was a slow trip, not so much because of poor roads, but because of the constant traffic! The ride was a short introduction to the rest of our week of adventure.

Let me know if you have been to Bangladesh (or India!), and what you thought of this extraordinary country, in the Comments, below.

CLICK HERE for a “snapshot” of one of our village visits when we went to see the women’s Self Help Group, pictured below, in the village of Bausi.

Love Beyond Measure

The BIG Coverup

For some reason this day four-year-old Joseph was cross. And I was cross back at him. I was asking him to do something which I thought quite reasonable. I can’t remember exactly . . .  it may have been to put his toys away. But did he want to do it? No!

At this stage, there were three of five children, with the two youngest yet to arrive. I was pretty happy with how I managed things with the two older girls, but my response to Joseph was another kettle of fish.

To explain my dilemma . . . I grew up in a household with only sisters. This means I had quite big gaps in my knowledge of all things “boy” – and I knew it. All the information I had about boys in family life was gleaned from my girlfriends and the relationships they had with their brothers. I had noticed big brothers could be very loving and protective of their little sisters. But I also knew little brothers could be incredibly annoying.

And I had one such annoying little brother on my hands.

So…back to Joseph this day. I asked him nicely to “tidy up the toys” (or whatever it was). Then, I asked him firmly. Then, I gave him the normal ultimatum, and still nothing. He was already in tears, and I was close. I did my usual thing, and asked him to go to his bedroom so we could both calm down. Generally he was happy to do this, because Joseph loved being in his room.

But still he would not cooperate.

So I picked him up from behind, under his arms, to scoot him along to his room for his five-minute time-out.

Which meant his feet flailed wildly in protest all the way through the loungeroom.

Which meant he accidentally kicked one of the heavy, glass doors on the video cabinet.

Which meant it shattered with a huge CRASH into little pieces all over the carpet!

I am not sure who got the biggest fright, me or him. But he did go to his room and stay there willingly at least. After a little while I went in and we talked about it. I said sorry, and he said sorry as well. Then we went back to tidy away his toys together, and he helped me carefully vacuum up the glass.

I was mortified.

While I did talk it through with Stephen later, I never told any of my friends exactly how that glass door broke – we kept the cabinet for years and it always looked a little lop-sided with one door intact, and the other side open to the world.

It was just too hard to admit I was THAT mother, with THAT boy. And these dramas kept happening. I felt like such a failure!

Why do we do that? Why do we try and keep appearances, and pretend we have it all together? While all along, underneath we constantly question if we can do this motherhood thing.

We wonder if we are making the right decisions as we bring our children up.

And we are even a little ashamed at some things that happen behind closed doors.

But this is what I have learnt: If you sweep the shame under the carpet and ignore it, it does not go away.

In reality, it is only by facing those horrible moments, that we get past them. It is only by admitting our failures that we can take a step back and see objectively. It is only by reflecting on what happened to us as we were growing up that we can understand ourselves better.

So next time you feel like a complete failure, let me encourage you not to ignore what happened. Think about it. Reflect on it. Write it down, or tell someone you can trust. Tell God about it. Pray for wisdom and understanding.

By getting to the bottom of it, you may find that next time you are in that situation you have the freedom to operate differently.

And that has to be better for everyone.

For the record, Joe is now an endearing 20-something, who happens to love working with extremely difficult young people. Who would have thought?

What’s your take on this? Do you like to keep up appearances like me?

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