Back home

I arrived back home two days ago. It's a strange feeling to be home. In some ways it feels like I never left. Other than some noticeable changes around town, Stouffville is Stouffville. I went on a bike ride today on my 21 speed mountainy bike. Very different from solid steel one speed with curved handle bars that I rode in Bogra. I noticed the lack of a bell. I felt my finger inch toward where it should be whenever I saw a car approaching. Luckily, there were less rickshaws, people and animals to dodge, and no stupid chickens.

I spent the past week in Akron, PA, debriefing with my fellow SALTers from around the world. It was great to see them all again and to share stories. In many ways our experiences were different but in many others they were similar. We all had common challenges and joys. It was a great time to relax and play frisbee. I hadn't had any major physical exercise for the past year, so I was sore after a couple games of ultimate. It felt good to play again though.

I'm going to Waterloo tomorrow to visit some friends at school. I don't have many plans for the next month before school starts. I imagine I'll do some work on the farm and try to catch up with family and friends. This will probably be my last blog post. It's time to put this baby to bed. Now that my SALT year is over, I don't imagine I will have any particularly interesting insights to share with you. Not that I imagine life here to be dull, but I just assume we are now having similar experiences. If you are really interested in what I'm doing, just ask. :-)

See you around,

Ben

As I came, so I go

I came to Bangladesh 11 months ago with mixed emotions. I was mostly excited, but I was also a little nervous. I didn't know what to expect. I was coming to a new country, a new culture and a new language. It seems kind of strange leaving now, because I finally feel settled in. My fluency in Bangla is at its best, and all the things that seemed strange or unusual before are just normal now.

As I prepare to leave, I have similar emotions as to when I came. This time, however, I'm going to a familiar country, culture and language. I suppose the nervousness comes with the anticipation that home won't be quite as familiar as I might have remembered.

I fly out of Dhaka on the night of July 20th. I arrive in Akron, PA 36 hours later, assuming everything goes according to plan. Leaving Bangladesh is different than leaving Canada. When I left home, I knew I was coming back in a year. I don't know if I'll ever be back in Bangladesh. I told Piyash that I would come back for his wedding. His mother said that will be in 20 years. She seemed pretty confident on that number, so I guess its settled. I wonder what Bangladesh will be like in 20 years?

A common phrase these days as I say goodbyes: Ami asha kori amader abar dekha hobe - I hope we will meet again.

Highway symbiosis

Symbiosis is a biology term used to describe a relationship between two or more organisms that are unrelated taxonomically, but help each other survive in some way. When I refer to symbiosis on a Bangladesh highway, I mean many different forms of transportation using the same road and some how manage to get people to their destinations without (many) casualties. I've been using highways in Bangladesh for the better part of 10 months now, but I have yet to describe it in a blog post for you curious readers back home. I remembered this on a recent trip to and from Dhaka.

The Dhaka-Bogra highway is two lanes and undivided. I should say it is two lanes by markings of paint only; certainly it accommodates many more vehicles. The shoulder, for example, is a legitimate place to drive, as well as right down the middle if there is no oncoming traffic. Really, there is no place I have been in Bangladesh where lane markings have any say in where people drive.

The users of the road vary considerably. I will list them more or less from smallest to largest, which also happens to be least to greatest asphalt priority: chicken, duck, cat, dog, goat, child riding goat, human, bicycle, motorcycle, cow, cow pulling cart, rickshaw, vangari, rototiller thingy, autorickshaw, tempo, homemade tractor, tractor, car, pickup truck, small truck, small bus, big truck, big bus. The speed limit really is as fast as you can drive without hitting something else.

Passing ettiquette: Passing is acceptable in all circumstances, as long as your vehicle is faster than the one in front of you. Passing with oncoming traffic is not a problem; once your vehicle's nose is past the vehicle you are passing, said vehicle must hit the brakes to let you in front so the oncoming traffic does not hit you. If the oncoming traffic is of lower asphalt priority than you, they simply head to the shoulder.

Horn ettiquette: The horn is the most useful part of the vehicle. If the horn is broken, you might as well consider the vehicle totalled as it is not road worthy. Luckily, there are repair shops that advertise horn replacement, so no worries. The horn is mostly used whenever you are passing another vehicle. Because mirrors and signals apparently haven't been accepted by the general population, they are most necessary for the smaller vehicles in order to avoid getting crushed. The general rule when driving is to concern yourself only with what's ahead. Those behind and beside will make their presense known to you by the horn.

High-beam ettiquette: When driving at night, the horn is given a break and the high-beams are used instead (for the most part). When passing with oncoming traffic, the high-beams signal to the driver heading your way to slow down, or head to the shoulder. I just assume (almost definitely incorrectly) that Bangladeshis are immune to high-beam blindness.

You probably get the idea that highway driving is not for the faint of heart. Its an action packed adventure of dodging people, livestock and other vehicles while trying to drive as fast as possible. City driving is similar, but usually significantly slower. I have seen many totalled buses and trucks on the side of the highway, crushed into trees, rolled down embankments, etc.

MCC does not allow service workers to drive motorcycles in Dhaka because of how dangerous it is. Bangladeshis are very peaceful, but if a driver strikes and kills a pedestrian, an angry mob will soon form to lynch the driver and torch his/her vehicle and possibly other vehicles that happen to be present.

To paint this in a slightly more positive light: there probably are less fatal accidents per capita in Bangladesh than in Canada because vehicles are travelling slower. I said people drive as fast as possible, by realistically cars rarely hit 80 km/h on the highway. Also, there are not nearly enough paved roads in Bangladesh for all the vehicles to pass freely, so maybe this is the best method? My Western sensibilities tell me that well organized, enforceable traffic laws would work better, but in my heart I want to believe Bangladesh has it right. That said, I won't be shedding any tears for Bangladesh's highways when I head home in a couple weeks.

Ben