so this is it

Considering that Matt and I are no longer in Bangladesh – and in fact no longer in Spanish Harlem either – this will be the final post on the “SpaHa to Bangla” blog.

Once Matt returned to work a few weeks after arriving back in the states, he was asked to do interviews for his company about his experience in Bangladesh. This prompted me to interview him, both as a practice round for him and a nice ending for the blog. What follows is the interview highlights (because those of us who know how Matt tells stories realize that no one has time to read the entire transcript straight through…)

Val: So how does it feel to be back in New York?
Matt: It’s surprising how little things have changed. I haven’t really had the reverse culture shock that I thought I would. I feel like you could put me right back in Bangladesh in what is a ridiculously different culture and lifestyle, or I can be here in New York, neither would feel too strange. I definitely feel I have changed. I can now call more places home.

Anything here in the states that you’re glad to have back in your life?
Chipotle, sushi, air conditioning, internet, clean toilets, safe drinking water in my office at work, credit and debit cards…

Do you miss anything from Bangladesh already?
Amdad-bhay [our driver]. He became a good friend, always having a huge smile each morning to greet me as I came down the stairs. I miss playing basketball at the American club. Going out into the rural areas and seeing all of the lush green. And I miss the look on rural villagers' faces just before they see me, before their day has been interrupted by the sighting of possibly the first white person they’ve ever met.

What Bangla words/phrases do you think will stick in your vocabulary?
SomoSa [problem], ektu bangla bolte pari [I speak a little Bangla], tikase [okay], and bhalo thaken, abar dekha hobe [take care, see you again]

Tell me some lessons you learned in Bangladesh.
That people are hungry for opportunities, they're not looking for a handout. They want a chance to work hard, do something meaningful, and be paid fairly for their work. And happiness is what you have divided by what you want.

Was anything about your experience just ridiculously beyond what you could have possibly imagined?
Human deformities: I’ve seen many poor desperate people in big cities in America, but I’ve never seen people as physically mutilated as the people I would see everyday right outside our house in Gulshan [our neighborhood].
The office hierarchy: even very senior people didn’t have the ability to directly communicate their ideas or perspectives, and the art of subtle non-spoken communication is much more important that spoken or written communication.

What impact did your work project have on your Bangladesh experience?
It’s made me more passionate about finding innovative ways of delivering healthcare. Yes, healthcare is extremely expensive in the US, but it doesn’t have to be. It’s much cheaper in other parts of the world, yet so many people lack access to even the most basic treatment, very cheap stuff that could save or improve lives. This has made me think about creative ways to provide more care, to refine health systems to reach more people. To be honest, this experience has given me more pride in my company, that they would be willing to invest in me and invest in this partnership to send me to Bangladesh.

What impact do you think you had on Bangladesh?
I think there are some straightforward work-related ideas that I developed to improve the health clinics, and I hope that many of these are implemented and prove to be successful. Beyond that, many of the Bangladeshis I worked with had little or no real life exposure to an American before, and some of these people became my really good friends. The word Shawoun [one coworker/friend] kept using was “gentle”, how he was surprised at my gentleness. I don’t really know what that means, but I think they have this perception of the overcharging, hard-bearing American. I know it’s a cliché, but really when it comes down to it, we are so much more similar than we are different.

What did you learn about yourself throughout this experience?
That I can live in one of the 10 most unlivable cities on the planet with a very challenging work project and sensitive cultural issues on top of it, and find a way to not only survive but actually enjoy it, I mean really really enjoy the process. That I’m adaptable. Our bodies have an amazing ability to adapt to a new environment. You can go on a rickety old bus through really rural foreign areas and stay in shady hotels and eat whatever the random local food is that they serve, and for the most part you’re gonna be okay.

Give me your number one piece of advice for someone considering moving to Bangladesh.
Take protein bars unless you want to lose twenty pounds in the first month. Until you find the good restaurants, that is.

When you’re 80 years old telling stories to your grandkids, what will your “Bangladesh Story” be?
I don’t want to tell them, I want to take them. In fifty years, Bangladesh will be so much more prosperous and developed that they wouldn’t believe my stories anyway.

Now that’s it’s over, summarize your experience in one word.
I knew you were going to say that . . . (laughs) . . . fascinating.


This is Val here again. I would agree that Bangladesh is a fascinating place, one that makes you grow and explore and question and re-prioritize and adapt. I loved my experience there and traveling through southeast Asia this summer, all of it, from the challenges to the adventures. I also have to say that writing a blog was a fascinating exercise in itself, one that was both frustrating and immensely satisfying. It's not always easy to distill your everyday experiences into readable bites for family and friends who are half a world away, especially not when your "everyday experiences" are completely foreign to you and them. All that said, I just wanted to thank everyone who has read this blog and somehow let us know of their enjoyment. We loved our experience and are happy that you became a part of it through these pages.

matt's goodbye "program"

Matt took me to his work today (they work on Saturdays), as he wanted to buy lunch for the office before his Pfizer NY team came into town and then we left. We thought we were going for lunch. Turns out we were going for a whole goodbye "program", involving speeches, paparazzi-style photography, and many lavish gifts. Matt got a fatua (business casual shirt) and punjabi (long dress shirt), I got a beautiful salwar kameez, we both got mugs with the Grameen Kalyan logo on them, and Matt got the clock that he's been eyeing for 6 months -- it has the GK logo, plus all the numbers are in Bangla. We also got huge bouquets of flowers.

They had a special cake made that totally typifies the Bangladeshi spirit. They mean so well and try so hard to be hospitable with their limited command of English and resources. In any case, the message is supposed to convey that when Matt says "goodbye", his office mates will only accept it as a temporary "adieu", because they expect him to come back and they will see us again soon. Basically, "you say goodbye, we say see you soon." Very sweet. (And I mean that literally too, the Bangladeshis like their "misti" super-sugary).

After spending a day conversing with everyone from the cleaning lady and "peons" (their actual job title, unbelievable) to the Managing Director of the whole health program, we had a surprise meeting with the head honcho himself, Professor Yunus. I now have the pleasure of being able to say that a Nobel Peace Prize recipient praises my work with special ed. students in Harlem as challenging and invaluable.

bideshi friendship guide (VAL)

Bideshis are foreigners, and although there aren't a lot of us here, we all populate the same neighborhood and frequent the same 4-5 restaurants. This has unfortunately made us the audience of some pretty atrocious behavior by people who either just arrived in Dhaka and don't know what to expect, or have lived here for so long that they've decided they just don't care about appropriate social norms and customs anymore. On the positive side, we have befriended the staff at all of these restaurants, and the American Club, and the grocery store, because (not to brag) but we look pretty fantastic next to these clowns. In hopes of educating even one shameful bideshi, I have composed the following guide:

How to Befriend a Bangladeshi in the Service Industry

1. Smile
2. Greet him/her in Bangla, even if you have to smile and nod at the response because the only thing you know how to say is the greeting which you have been practicing for the previous 5 minutes in the car until Matt says "shut up already, I think you got it"
3. Remember his/her name, even if you have to use mnemonics and translate it in your head to unpleasant English phrases like "Nosebleed" or "Noose-Rat" or "Ferret-Ass"
4. Try the local specialty in all cases: food, dress, transportation, manners
5. Try eating with your hands, even if you look like an uncoordinated infant doing so
6. Retrieve your own tennis balls because my god it is hot out and no one should have to be on that court unless they're silly enough to insist on playing through the heat of the afternoon which by the way corresponds to the tennis pro's lunch break
7. Carry your own groceries
8. Graciously allow someone else to carry your groceries if they insist and will be offended if you refuse their help
9. Recognize that you are being pampered because you're a Bideshi, and learn to be appreciative rather than resentful for the attention
10. Do not grow to expect this pampering, and when it ends, realize that it's because you've finally been accepted as a friend, a regular, and a local

How to Upset Bangladeshis and Embarrass Other Bideshis

1. Frown/Scowl
2. Say "eww", "gross", "dirty", "nasty", and/or "what the *#$% is that?!?"
3. Mumble quickly in your regional English slang...
4. ...then be annoyed when asked to repeat yourself
5. Treat a Bangladeshi like s/he's stupid for not speaking fluent English
6. Be the loudest and/or most demanding person in the room
7. Wear a tube top
8. Wear a mini skirt
9. Wear a dress that shows more skin than tube top & mini skirt combined
10. Drink yourself into a stupor, then stumble around in public in a country where drinking alcohol is illegal and immoral.

malaysia in photos

(in order to load the photos onto this blog, the quality was unfortunately cut. for higher resolution and larger photos, check out either one of our facebook pages)

things we did in malaysia

Landed in Kuala Lumpur at midnight.
Got upgraded to the "Chairman Suite" (2 stories, extra rooms/doors for security, a treadmill, full kitchen, 12-person dining table, etc.) because the rest of the hotel was booked and Matt has "special status."
Ran around the suite getting lost, taking photos, and screaming, "whoa, come check this out!"
Walked to a night market.
Ordered dinner by pointing at whatever looked good.
Ate in the rain on a patio.
Val commented on how dangerous the wet tiles looked.
Matt ignored her, then slipped, tried to brace himself with a plastic table, crashed down to the street with table and chair. (No blood, just blood blisters.)
Took a shower while gazing out the window at the Petronas Towers.
Strolled through city park in KL.
Toured Petronas Towers.
Ate soup dumplings and drank boba smoothies.
Paid to pee by squatting over a hole in the ground.
Took subway/skyrail to Chinatown.
Haggled with hawkers for high-quality fake watches.
Ran through sudden downpour, found shelter under tarp of street vendor.
Ate pork noodles, best meal of Malaysia, for $1.50.
Taxi to Lake Gardens.
Toured Bird Park, the largest free-flight aviary in the world.
2 hour taxi ride back to hotel and then to airport, in which the taxi driver interviewed Val about Barack Obama's life story and the allure of NYC.
Flew to Langkawi.
Laid on beach, read a book. Repeated this.
Matt worked on his computer way too much, unfortunately.
Went kayaking around the bay and through a fishing village.
Went swimming in the ocean.
Went swimming in the pool.
Enjoyed the swim-up pool bar.
Played ping-pong.
Val read, Matt worked, as we enjoyed the sunset on our veranda.
Heard, then saw, about 20 monkeys fighting in the trees.
Watched a baby monkey take a huge (literal) leap of faith as he tried to follow his mom from one tree to another.
Had a lovely dinner on the boardwalk overlooking a small beach, ate big fat Australian steaks and fresh salad -- not something we get in Dhaka!
Hiked up 720 steps into the jungle.
Climbed a big net leading up to a tightrope through the canopy.
Rock climbed & rappelled.
Flew through the jungle on a zip-line.
Hiked back down on a thin, minimally-marked path in the jungle.
Went into Chenang Beach, a small town consisting of one main drag.
Window shopped.
Bought and drank cans of a local soft-drink.
Stumbled upon a restaurant that I had researched as one of the best for Malay cuisine (they had flower petals in the toilet!).
Ate a delicious dinner of chicken & beef satay, local fish fillet, squid, shrimp, beef rendang, pumpkin in coconut milk, sauteed veggies & pineapple, yellow rice, spinach, and pickled watermelon.
Rented a motorbike and tested our driving skills in the dark.
Explored a bat cave.
Got pick-pocketed by some monkeys, who were mostly curious about Matt's watch (it's a fake, sillies!).
Went on a boat tour of the mangrove forests.
Saw 2 vipers curled up in the mangroves, plus tons of eagles, kingfishers, other birds, some monkeys, and even Bangladeshi fishermen.
Went swimming off of a hidden beach, where Matt plotted his survival plan should he ever find himself stranded in the mangrove forest (he better work on those fish-catching techniques, as he came up empty handed).
Ate at a floating restaurant on the docks.
Toured a fish farm, fed some grouper, and petted a manta ray.
Went go-kart racing.
Val mowed the track lawn with her go-kart, oops.
Tried to avoid for laps and laps the foot-long lizard that someone else hit.
Rode the motorbike along the coast across the island to the cruise docks and main town, about an hour away.
It started raining about halfway through the drive, but there's really nothing we could do being on the back of a motorbike.
Rode around town, found another of my researched restaurants, this time a local Chinese food stand (outdoors, mostly locals, no-frills, super cheap, but DELICIOUS!).
Checked out another resort on the tip of the peninsula; it was spectacular and made us wish we stayed there, but now we know where to go back.
Got back on the motorbike, stopping for ice cream at good ol' Baskin Robbins on the way.
Fell fast asleep on the plane back to Dhaka, while Matt worked more. We need to rest after this vacation!

home sweet stench (VAL)

Cognitive research indicates that our sense of smell is one of the strongest triggers for memory and recognition. To me, this seems to especially hold true for places. I can't necessarily describe the scents, but when I walk into a familiar place--like my aunt's or grandparents' house, the gym, even my favorite restaurant--I expect a certain smell that is always there. If you could somehow capture these scents, I bet I could identify them blindfolded, devoid of any other context.

Dhaka is ripe with intense smells. The heat and humidity generate a thick atmosphere that absorbs scent like a sponge. At places lush with plants--the American Club or the park--it smells fresh like a greenhouse at the botanical gardens. On the traffic-congested main avenues, it smells of smoke and chemicals generated from all of the exhaust. At places crowded with people, like little shops and take-away restaurants, the heavy stench of body odor can make you feel woozy in less than a minute.

And then there's the distinct smell of our little street. Whether walking or riding in a rickshaw, once I turn onto our block, the smell hits me and I know I'm home. "Earmuff" your little ones because I'm going to be blunt in my description here: it smells like shit. Human feces, to be exact. Fresh, ripe, putrid, and fermenting piles of poo.

There are three reasons for our street's identifying scent. One is Dhaka's sewage system, which is a foot underground at the deepest, and on smaller residential streets like ours, is actually not underground at all. Half-canal, half-gutter, it runs alongside our narrow street, openly displaying whatever our neighbors have flushed down their pipes in the past week. And "runs" is a bit of an exaggeration, because it doesn't actually flow anywhere, it just stagnates, growing a rainbow of algae and fungi and attracting an entomologist's fantasy collection of flies.

The second reason is monsoon season. If you're thinking, "well, I bet the heavy rains are productive at flushing out the sewers and draining streets of trash and human waste", then you'd be in good company (I thought the same thing), but you'd still be wrong. The effect of these heavy rainstorms is that they fill the sewers with water, allowing all of that wonderfully pungent sewage to float to the top, level with the street. This provides for heightened viewing and smelling abilities. *Yum*

And finally, the third reason for the stench is open defecation. As if it isn't enough that we get to enjoy the waste produced by our neighbors in their toilets, random strangers and passersby contribute their own little byproducts to the poo cocktail. If the timing is right, sometimes we even get to see this in action: a stranger, squatting over the open gutter, no glint of shame in his eye as he goes about his business. Open defecation is actually a serious problem here, for a variety of obvious reasons, the main one being disease. In attempts to combat it, they launched a delightful little ad campaign that Matt captured in a photo:

pets (VAL)

There are lizards crawling all over our apartment building. Nostalgic for the days spent as a kid on my grandparents' back patio in Arizona catching the lizards that ran up the walls, I mentioned once that I might try to catch one. Matt scoffed, doubting my abilities. Well, if you know me, then you know where this story is heading...

His challenge led to me crawling around on the floor chasing a little baby lizard (small but FAST) until I trapped him. He crawled around on my hands, then Matt's hands, for awhile to allow for this brief photo session. Then he crawled up my dress, I screamed, he went flying across the room, scurried under our couch, and our brief friendship ended. I still feel victorious.