Hock a Loogie in Bangladesh.

I have seriously never heard so many people hocking loogies in my life. And it’s not even as if Bangladeshis eat all that much dairy. People here are hilarious. If they’re not hocking loogies they are burping or picking their nose or other such things that we “Bideshis” find completely socially unacceptable. I don’t know how I’m going to go with six months of loogie-hocking ahead of me. I was introduced today to a very important member of the Shahrasti political circle. Immediately after the introductions and formalities, the man who introduced us, my colleague Mr Raju, let out a massive burp and no-one even flinched! It’s interesting to think that, had I burst out laughing (which I very nearly did), it would have been me on the receiving end of the tut-tutting and head-shaking.

Perhaps the reason that I’m noticing all these disgusting bodily functions is because it is SO quiet here, so I can hear them all, even from a long way away. I was originally under the impression that I would be living in a small town of about 30,000 people. Well, in actual fact, I am living in a village of only about 2,000 people (which is tiny by Bangladeshi standards), and I’m surrounded by rice paddies, a few ponds, cows, goats, a few rickshaws and a surprising number of schools. Oh yeah. And THOUSANDS of loogies. Yuk.

It is so picturesque. The birds sound beautiful, and because it’s harvest time, there are lots of people working out in the fields. I walk to work (it only takes about five minutes) via a little path that winds through the rice fields. In the rainy season I won’t be able to do that, because they will be full of water.

My office is in a fairly sizeable but run-down building, and we have the most magnificent view from the balcony. As far as my project goes, I pretty much have to use my own initiative to create my own work, because Mirja and Raju have not been given exact instructions from the Director as to what I should do. They are, however, extremely enthusiastic about me and my work and are very supportive and have a huge amount of respect for me. Language is an issue, but both Mirja and Raju speak a little English, so between the three of us we can understand each other ok. My Bangla is progressing on a very steep learning curve.

Yesterday I had a discussion with Mirja and Raju. They asked me to tell them all about the teaching methods that I use in Australia and how these could help the schools here. This was an extremely weighted request, but fortunately I was able to give them some good ideas off the top of my head. I felt relieved when I saw them nodding their heads and smiling in agreement, although I lost them both when I got a little too carried away, and this was evidenced in part by Mirja falling asleep in his chair! (It was a long conversation.) Somehow, out of nowhere, I luckily and accidentally made a reference to the current textbooks that the village schools are using. I offered a simple suggestion and, I suppose because they could relate to the idea, their response was amazing. I doubt I would have received a better reaction if I had told them that the Bangladeshi cricket team had won the World Series (or something). In a mix of English and Bangla I hear: “Khub [very] interesting!!! Gilliand is good teaching method! [smiling and pointing,] Participatory Learning. Hæ [Yes].” They were so excited that they wanted me to begin training the teachers right away.

And the conversation just got better from then on.

[NB – “Gilliand” is not a misprint. That is what they call me. They started out by calling me “Kennedy”, so I don’t have the heart to correct them again. Besides, I probably pronounce their names wrong too. Additionally, the principal of the school where I live calls me “Miss Gillie”, which I think is quite cute.]