Cows

All day, every day I see them eating good, healthy grass but they’re still really skinny. I don’t understand it. And they really do say “Mooo!” don’t they?

Another day, another new experience.

Every day there is something new to do, look at, smell, eat, learn or discover. My senses and mind are being overloaded (in a very good way). “Wide eyed”, I think the term is. Sometimes the experience is big, like seeing Dhaka for the first time, or my first time in a village school. Sometimes it’s really quick, like the man carrying 12 bricks on his head who caught my eye as I was whizzing down the road in a bus (there is a lot to see on public transport); or in Hajiganj, seeing the biggest fork of lightning I’ve ever seen. Sometimes it’s a realisation, like conjugating a verb or a slight change in position when I’m eating with my hands which enables me to get a good mouthful as opposed to a pitiful one. Sometimes it’s a taste sensation, like this mad, dried, shredded, sweet ginger someone gave me on the train the other day. See? There. Like that: “…someone gave me on the train the other day” – I say it as if that’s the most normal thing in the world, but really, I don’t think anyone has ever given me food on a train before.

I was standing at my front gate the other day, talking to Anik (Mr Hussain’s 16-year-old son – and my current Bangla teacher – who is staying with us while he’s on school holidays). Out of nowhere, I started hearing this fabulous music – drumming and a trumpet – far off in the distance. I was intrigued and needed to find out what it was. It sounded like it was coming from near my work, but then I realised that it was getting further away. I told Anik that I needed to hurry so that I could catch it, and he reluctantly followed. We half walked, half ran towards my work, picking up various people along the way who were obviously wondering what the “Bideshi was up to this time”. When we got near to my work we saw the musicians and a crowd of about 40 people walking along the train tracks towards the river. They were part of a Hindu pre-marriage celebration and they were going to the river to collect water for the bride-to-be to bathe in, as well as to bless all the lovely spices and other paraphernalia that were to be used to adorn her during the actual ceremony the following day. Apparently a Hindu wedding celebration lasts for four days.

The Muslims claim that their weddings are very short in comparison, but I beg to differ. Last night I was invited to a Muslim pre-wedding celebration, where the groom’s family (11 siblings in total for this one) feeds him loads of mishti, which he eats off a fork, and then he feeds some back to them. Then all the women of the family rub raw turmeric (looks like mud) all over his face, hair and hands, which is supposed to give him a brighter complexion for his wedding day. When I arrived at about 10pm last night (I was only told about it at 8.00), I was ushered straight to a chair (as always - “Please sit down”) and then a man carrying a massive “7 News” style camera ran over to me and flicked on the Light (I use a capital L because to use lower case would be doing the Light an injustice – spotlight material), turned on the camera and I was in action. Just sitting there. The Bideshi. Before I arrived I was wondering whether it would be appropriate for me to take photos, however once the Light was shining in my face, I thought, well, what the heck? A bit of give and take can’t hurt.

The Light was my companion for longer than I would have chosen, however I was eventually upstaged by the star of the show. The Wedding Cow. The Wedding Cow was white, shiny, with painted pink horns, and quite possibly the largest cow I have ever seen. As a matter of fact, I would say that if cows could be stallions, this cow would be one. The Stallion Wedding Cow. A magnificent specimen, standing there all humble and glamorous in his stable. The “7 News” cameraman got a good shot of him.

Today was the actual wedding, which I was invited to last night, but it was in Comilla and I had to attend a memorial service for the founder of BACE (30 year anniversary of his death today. Another interesting experience. Got to see a whole lot of Muslims praying together, which I have never seen before. They use incense and flick rosewater over everyone and put rose oil on everyone’s hands. It was beautiful. The smell of the room was amazing. After they finish praying, everyone wipes their face with their hands).

Tonight the Wedding Cow is going to be killed. I was also invited to that, but after much deliberation I have decided not to go. (It is also at 3am, so that was another factor in making my decision.) Tomorrow there will be a post-wedding lunch. We will eat the Wedding Cow. I am invited to that and I am attending, so I’m going to don my high heels for the first time and get a bit glam.

So that’s at least three days of celebrations, which I think puts the Muslims up there with the Hindus in the Lengthy Wedding Celebration stakes.