The One and Only Monica
Me and Monica Having Fun in a CNG
Its been amazing becoming close enough to Monica to learn about her loves, her future plans, and her opinions... and to be able to be close enough to her to tell her that she deserves better than Chondon (she won't listen to me but that's classic Monica). Everyone else in the CLS program agrees that Monica is easily the feistiest and most fun Bangalee gal you will meet. For example, the other day went to her tailor to pick up a shalowar kameej that she had tailored and when she noticed that the length of the top was not what she had requested, she grabbed the enormous clothing scissors sitting on the tailor's desk and she began to cut off the lace trim like she owned the place; the tailor yelled at her but she cut the whole sucker off and then gave me a wink and smile. Or the other day Monica and I were hanging out at my place and my friend Kathi was trying out some sharis to wear to a wedding and Monica jumped in on the fashion show and immediately started readjusting the shari (which involved litterally undressing Kathi- whom she had just met- in front of all of us), fixing Kathi's hair and slapping on some red lipstick on Kathi's lips (this was particularly funny because Kathi style is not super-feminine... which she pointed out as Monica smeared the lipstick on her). Kathi's rather quiet and reserved Bangladeshi friend looked on in a mix of horror and delight. We got some good pictures out of the ordeal and Kathi still jokes about whether Monica is coming over to "man-handle" her.
I told Monica the other day that everyone in the group thought she was the sassiest of the language partners and she wore the label with pride. She even went home and told her mom, who was equally proud, which makes sense because if you met Monica's mom you would know exactly where Monica gets her strength, sense of independence, her joyful spirit and her incomparable sassiness. I got to see all of these in action last Tuesday when we were invited to Monica's house for lunch. Out of the blue Monica invited me, my entire flat and Annie's flat (Annie is my best friend here) to lunch. I am not a Bangalee (Monica lovingly often reminds me of this every day when I eat with a fork, eat dinner at 7 instead of 11 or fumble through my Bangla) but I am learning about what some of the essentials are in order to "be Bangalee" in the prevailing culture . One essential for being Bangalee is being able to cook a meal for 13 people at the drop of a hat- and doing so with complete and utter joy. Bangladeshi hospitality is incredible and just so freakin' beautiful.
After the invite Andrew, Farida, Kayla, Annie and myself walked over to Monica's house to "bhat khai" (this literally translates as "eat rice" but is understood and used to mean "eat a meal"- a phrase that communicates the centrality of rice in the Bangladeshi diet). Monica's whole family was there, including her best friends Fayzun and Atif. The house smelled incredible and Monica and her mom were hard at work in the kitchen. I don't know how long they had been cooking or how on earth they afforded so much food. It was very humbling and very beautiful to enjoy food that I know took them hours to prepared and likely took a huge chunk of change to purchase.
While we have wonderful, wonderful dinners at our apartment each night (we are so spoiled), this was the most incredible Bangladeshi food I have ever eaten. I cannot explain the combination of flavors that made the chicken as delicious as it was, but its safe to say that it was the best curry I've ever had. They also prepared kabobs, which are more like meat, spice and onion patties rather than the kabobs you think of when you hear the word in America. They are incredible-a little sweet, very spicy, and a little crispy on the outside. The polaw, a rice dish preprared with fried onions, dried fruit and a mixture of spices that I would love to know, was definitely the best I've eaten as well. There was also fresh mango and pineapple and paieesh. Paieesh is rice pudding. But this rice pudding will blow your mind. It takes like two days to make and has this incredible, rich, creamy flavor from the milk that they boil down for 8 hours. Its flavored with a mixture of spices and nuts that I hope Monica will eventually reveal.
The Sweet Spread
Monica Serving the Khichuri
Monica's Mom Frying Some Kababs
The BEST Chicken and Beef Curry You've Ever Tasted
Polaow, Mach (fish), and Shami Kabab
Hospitality must be greeted with an enormous appetite. I ate two plates of food and then when Monica's mom noticed my empty plate she brought me a third; it was the same story with dessert. Needless to say, I have never been so full in my entire life as when I completed that meal.
After dinner we went into Monica's parent's bedroom to look at family photos. I love the complete and total lack of attachment to individual/private space here. Every bedroom is just another sitting room for guests. We looked at photos and me and other students worked on our broken Bangla for a couple of hours. At one point Monica's mom told us that we were her daughters now and she expected us to return the next day for dinner. The entire evening was just so beautiful. I felt like I really had become a family member and felt so much shared love and joy flowing throughout the house.
The Girls Decorated with Teep (the gal in front is Monica's best friend)
The final reason it takes so long to make your way through New Market is that there are ridiculous amounts of people crammed in. If there had been a fire...it would have been bad. You have to shoulder your way through every inch of the place but its pretty amazing to be a part of. I took the photo below while being moved by an enormous mob of shoppers. Monica was somewhere in front of me and kept looking back to make sure her Bangla baccha (Bangla baby) was close behind. I am confident that I wasn't actually moving my own body but that it was being moved by the crowd itself. Monica and I just laughed hysterically at the simultaneously frightening and enlivening experience.
a quickly-snapped photo of the mob I was floating with
After dinner we went into Monica's parent's bedroom to look at family photos. I love the complete and total lack of attachment to individual/private space here. Every bedroom is just another sitting room for guests. We looked at photos and me and other students worked on our broken Bangla for a couple of hours. At one point Monica's mom told us that we were her daughters now and she expected us to return the next day for dinner. The entire evening was just so beautiful. I felt like I really had become a family member and felt so much shared love and joy flowing throughout the house.
The Girls Decorated with Teep (the gal in front is Monica's best friend)
I am definitely learning the meaning of hospitality here. It puts any of my own prior concepts of hospitality to shame. Forgive the Christian spin on it which is an imposition of my own philosophy on another culture's practices, but the whole time I was there I couldn't help but think that this is the kind of hospitality that God intends: give your best and give it all. I hope when I return home, that Travis and I can work on transforming our hospitality practices to be as giving and joyful as the hospitality I have seen here.
The next day, Monica and I had made plans to go to New Market with Annie and her language partner, Bubbly (great nick-name, right?). New Market is very difficult to describe. My photos don't do it justice either. Basically it is an enormous market where you can buy pretty much anything you would ever need, and then some; we spent a very hectic 3 hours there and managed to only see the fabrics and sharis, which is probably 1/1000th of what is sold there. They sell shoes, dishes, rickshaw art, tools, furniture, food, jewelry...the list goes one. One reason that it takes a while to make your way through the market is that there is just so much to see. Another is that you must do a good deal of bargaining, especially for sharis, which can take awhile. This is Monica's finest skill. I'm not huge on bargaining; I'm happy to give them their first price: I've got the money, and I'm sure the salesperson needs the moneymuch more than I, and I know the fabric took alot of time and skill to create but in Bangladesh when you buy a shari, you bargain, that's just how it is. Bargaining can take awhile but so can the looking. There is just so much to see. It's actually totally and completely overwhelming. I will fully admit that at some point in shopping you have to realize that you're just going to have to settle on something and soon; the more you look, the more confused you get because its all beautiful.
The next day, Monica and I had made plans to go to New Market with Annie and her language partner, Bubbly (great nick-name, right?). New Market is very difficult to describe. My photos don't do it justice either. Basically it is an enormous market where you can buy pretty much anything you would ever need, and then some; we spent a very hectic 3 hours there and managed to only see the fabrics and sharis, which is probably 1/1000th of what is sold there. They sell shoes, dishes, rickshaw art, tools, furniture, food, jewelry...the list goes one. One reason that it takes a while to make your way through the market is that there is just so much to see. Another is that you must do a good deal of bargaining, especially for sharis, which can take awhile. This is Monica's finest skill. I'm not huge on bargaining; I'm happy to give them their first price: I've got the money, and I'm sure the salesperson needs the moneymuch more than I, and I know the fabric took alot of time and skill to create but in Bangladesh when you buy a shari, you bargain, that's just how it is. Bargaining can take awhile but so can the looking. There is just so much to see. It's actually totally and completely overwhelming. I will fully admit that at some point in shopping you have to realize that you're just going to have to settle on something and soon; the more you look, the more confused you get because its all beautiful.
The final reason it takes so long to make your way through New Market is that there are ridiculous amounts of people crammed in. If there had been a fire...it would have been bad. You have to shoulder your way through every inch of the place but its pretty amazing to be a part of. I took the photo below while being moved by an enormous mob of shoppers. Monica was somewhere in front of me and kept looking back to make sure her Bangla baccha (Bangla baby) was close behind. I am confident that I wasn't actually moving my own body but that it was being moved by the crowd itself. Monica and I just laughed hysterically at the simultaneously frightening and enlivening experience.
a quickly-snapped photo of the mob I was floating withAfter our shari shopping we just floated in the mob from shop to shop. The entire experience was totally exhausting but I really enjoyed it because it felt like I was finally in the heart of Dhaka. Most adventures with Monica take me to some part of the heart of Bangladesh; I feel so thankful to have her in my life here because she has pulled me out of my shell and INTO Dhaka.
I'm off for now. I've got a good amount of studying to get done before our test tomorrow. I am hoping to post one more time about today's trip to the Rosey Foundation before I leave on our trip to Chittagong on Wednesday, so keep an eye out.
Your prayers and love keep me going through the homesickness, fear and confusion and pull me into the exhilaration of really seeing and being in this incredible, complicated, sometimes scary, often beautiful place. So keep 'em coming.
With all my love from the city of mosques,
ashlee
Your prayers and love keep me going through the homesickness, fear and confusion and pull me into the exhilaration of really seeing and being in this incredible, complicated, sometimes scary, often beautiful place. So keep 'em coming.
With all my love from the city of mosques,
ashlee
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