Ah, I fell down the stairs today. Good thing I am going back to the desh. This second story set-up isn't quite working for me like it used to.

I have been back in the states now for nearly two months. I will say it was an adjustment at first. I felt a bit off kilter. I wanted to talk to everyone just because they were speaking the same language as I. The first couple weeks I was afraid to drive for fear of remembering to stay on the right side of the road. I went on several unnecessary shopping sprees and bought skanky clothing that I have yet to wear and probably will never wear. And I am guessing I could be a dinner conversation topic for the average Crescent trail patron labeling me as "Crazy" or a "special person". They see me waving at them frantically, smiling and asking them how their day is going just because they are out RUNNING in the middle of the day with a dog on a leash. All in all it has been a wonderful couple of months. I feel that much remains the same...My friends are still my friends, the brothers are a bit more city savvy but still my brothers, and the gecko is still doing the Gaico commercials. I am most appreciative of all the drink options we have here, night life, wearing a scarf because it is damn cold not because I need to cover my shameful breasts, the cleanliness and less people. Alas I go back on Tuesday!

Well the last brother has made a 12 day appearance. He did not love the desh. I think after six days at site of me dragging him to every stinking class, cha outing, and certificate ceremony, he was ready to go. The ultimate was playing soccer in a damn dirty field. He comes home stoked to take a cold shower and wash off the grime and small insects laying eggs in his feet when the electricity goes out, ok, no big deal, so he cant see if the soap is thoroughly rinsed clean, but little does he know that with the electricity goes the water goes too. So brother standing in the dark shower has a nice lather of soap and grime going and no way to rinse it off...His options

a)stand there for at least a solid hour and hope that the power comes back soon

or

b)go outside with Henrietta and use the tube well pump with a bed sheet wrapped around his bottom half

He opted for option b. As he bitched (minimally) I just sat and smirked having been there many times before but as a lil bideshi lady I do not have that option b.

After roughly eight days in Lalmonirhat we headed to Modhupur. Where there are many tribal people. It was incredible they are so not Bangladeshi! They were peaceful, smiled at you rather than giving you the death stare, and there were places where we didn't see anyone. We ran, rode bikes through the banana and pineapple plantations, swam in a mud filled pond with a bunch of Mogli(jungle book) look alikes, we also climbed the trees and jumped into that mud! It was quite fun! We topped the week off with a nite at the American club for margaritta madness! Sad to say bye bye but will be back in no time now!

Next, next, the girls are gone! Morsheda will be staying in Michigan with a Muslim family. The host mom is Irish American and converted 10 years ago when she married a Pakistani man. Mou has yet to get her family assingment. They left last night and it was very emotional. I cried and they were just to excited to think about missing anything in Bangladesh. Mous mom fainted...it was crazy! Road trip is in the works! Who is on board?

I have turned in my grad school aps so start praying to the gods of admissions! I want an MPH from Tulane and want to start in January.

I am in the process of deciding whether or not to come home in October or November. On the one hand I just want to get home and on the other I feel like I should travel because I may not be in this part of the world again for a while. Ah what to do? Plus I need to get my eyes checked out. Advice and suggestions are always welcome!

I will try and post some new pics tomorrow.

It is just getting to be that time, that time to go. I have dreams about drinking tap water and about ants that like to live outside your house. You know you have just been in the desh to long when...you become reminiscent of camping when you smell burning trash or cow dung(used for cooking fuel), or the sound of a flowing shit ditch (the above ground half ass sewage system in the desh) reminds you of a babbling brook, or you think you can make rice and dal taste like mac and cheese. Things are juz fine its juz time! I have deshitis comparable to senioristis but when you have the later you just skip out on school here there is no where to go. I am keeping crazy busy and starting to wrap up. Brotha Nater is here tomorrow and maximum fun will be had as the CIRCUS is back in town. Hot damn, there are few things more entertaining than a deshi circus and this year I will be able to understand the singing hermaphrodites. Ah, the benefits of bangla!

The girls have their visas and will be coming to the states August 12th!!!! Hot dawg! We have had endless culture shock sessions. I borrowed forks and knives from my expat host family. We tried spaghetti and pancakes. Pancakes no problem, spaghetti a different story. After chopping the noodles up into rice size bites they tried to scoop that up with a fork. This took a good fifteen minutes and the result was a few morsels in the mouth. "Madame we can not do it". They gave up on spaghetti with forks to go home and eat rice with hands.

I did a do's and dont's session for the 18 students that are Emerika bound. That was great fun. I got to tell deshis what really gets to Americans. Do not hawk, spit, pick your nose, urinate, or defecate in public...not only is it gross but the last two are illegal. Do not tell someone you are looking very "black" today or you are "going to fat" or you have a "large red spot on your face". Do say please and thank you. Do not walk into the middle of the street thinking the traffic will stop for you. Do cook up some dahl for your host family. Don't forget to bathe regularly. You have a certain place in line so stay there until it is your turn. Don't be offended if someone hands you something with the left hand. Personal space is important and straight guys do not cuddle with other straight guys. If you snap at someone to get their attention they are more likely to ignore you. Don't ask questions like are you married, how much did that shirt cost, how much do you make, etc. Do have fun, laugh, and if you can't find Halal meat opt for a tofu hot dog(that was not really my rec.). The list goes on but you get the point.

Anyway, they are out o' here soon and getting pumped to hit up Target. They need to stock up on western garb. My burka sporting gal is planning on wearing it in the states. We will all think good thoughts for her and hope that some punk kid doesn't try to pull it off like the punk kids did to Margie Baker's wig in Eighth grade.

My ducking head, didnt want get close lined by the bridge. Check out that monsoon rolling in.

Nina, Jason, and I rode on top of the bus all the way to Rangpur....50 kilometers. It was perfect weather and the bus driver drove quite gently. Maximum fun!

This dry country has more booze than you would expect. In fact, Jason and I discovered a local bar right here in Lalomonirhat. It is a bamboo shack like structure with a hole in the wall. The hole is where the "sweepers"(deshi street cleaners and the only peeps that the community will claim touch that devils juice) shove their used hand blown glass bottles and a mere 150 tethered taka for a refill.

The bar stands in the center of a vast paddy field. Anyone needing their drunk fix has no chance of being inconspicuous. It is like doing the walk of shame but instead of coming home from the dudes house in the same clothes you wore the night before you are walking a long paddy mound with all the day laborers farming eyes on you. .

That 150 taka will get you a large bottle of some clear fluid that smells a bit like rubbing alcohol and does not taste much better. The procurer of the place is not sure where it is distilled and he thought it may come from bamboo or palm root, but was not totally sure of that either. So you pay a 150 taka for a large bottle of...I don't know what.

Ever met a 28 year old with cataracts? Well now you have. The deshi optometrist asked if I was sure I was 28 or if I had been juicing up on roids. I am not deshi I do know my proper age and roids do I look ripped? The second opinion deshi doctor suggested I not let "this matter puzzle me, just find a job that requires limited vision, you can work in a factory". Thanks dude! Well this means I am home to Maryland the first week in November because I need to have an operation. It is really straight forward I guess. They remove this lens in my my eye and replace it with a synthetic one. It is pretty crazy though, I can not read with my right eye. Peace Corps suggested that I be medically separated and leave early but I am just so close to being done I want to finish up. Three months to go! Hot dawg! No mind(deshi English).

Abdul Khalek(my landlord) has bought a new goat. Its permanent home is the roof top of our house. That is, until sizey enough to be dinner. I asked him what he was going to name the goat. He looked at me like I was crazy..."Who names animals?" He let me have the liberty. I thought Henry sounded good... Until I realized it was a girl and then she became Henrietta. I have since seen my landlord on several occasions walking the goat up and down our street repeatedly practicing saying Henro-ieta, Heeennnri-e-ta, Heeeenrah-ota, and every other variation of pronunciation you can think of. Pretty funny! I hope I get used to the incessant bhaaa-ing. I would be bhaa-ing all hours too if someone kept me on a short jute rope on the roof-top of a two story building during the peak of the monsoon season. At least Henrietta has a hen(yet to be named, any suggestions?) friend up there.

Sooooo today, Susmita Zaman and I made pancakes. She is going to be living in America for a full year so I figure she should know what freaking pancakes are. After we topped them with mangoes and gorged she mehendied(hena) my hands. My students were so impressed with her skills they thought I must have had it done in the quality Lalmonirhat parlor. I am having dal dinner with Nina tonight! Yum. Then I am heading to Dhaka. My friend from way back when, Whitman days...is coming for a visit. He is currently working with National Geo. and is planning on doing a story on my America bound gals. This is all so exciting plus biggest perk...I get another visitor!!!! Wooohooo! Ok, dal is getting cold.xo

Good, good! Just submitted a project proposal for an HIV/AIDS awareness week. I am trying to get a grant. I plan to put on a drama and have a five km run. Those will be the highlights of the week anyway. I have found that secondary projects are far more productive than anything I can teach in the classroom. I have five different sections of ninety students. I love the age group but teaching when only a third of them pay attention is a total WASTE of time.

I have been very busy prepping my girls for Emerika(deshi pronunciation of America). Today we learned...you should not tell some one they are very black and/or fat. We are working on the idea of patience and waiting in lines too. They are very worried about bathroom use and only having toilet paper. They plan to pack buckets. I still have a month to work on that idea. I have convinced Morsheda not to wear her burka, she will probably just cover her head.

Any suggestions anyone has for how to prep for culture shock email me, well, email me anyway but let me know. Thanks-later

These are my two favorite Bengalis. Their taking showers in my front yard. The one on the left Alo(meaning light) is my landlords servant girl, man is she a worker. Shorob(I think it means lamp post)on the right...before he shaved off all his hair he let me give him a mohawk.

We broke up into three groups shonali(gold), shobuj(green), and lal(red). This is shobuj learning a funny song about birds flying up in the sky...Molly is the ultimate camp counselor.

Miss Molly and I are brushing up on our electric slide skills before we taught the deshi girls at CAMP KHUSI!

We even got to show some skin...check out those legs and shoulders! What a treat coming from bangladesh. The women(thats me) have to wear everything all at once, the scarf is the worst.

Pop, Molisha, and I had a fabulous vaca in Bali. That is the active volcano Butter behind us. Cool.

The latest from Bangladesh, this is just the start of my internet diary. I plan to update it as often as possible but please still email me! I have been very busy lately. I put on a summer camp for some of my students here in Lalmonirhat. It was a week long and took every ounce of energy I had. There were fifty girls and three bideshi counselors. We did arts and crafts, oragami, karate, wheel burro races, the hokey pokey, and their ultimate favorite was the macarena. I am going to try and send a video of the deshi macarena...damn funny! It was Camp Khushi(happy) and the girls all had the same t-shirts, we were official.

Next, I have been working at the diarrhea hospital. That has been crazy. This year and a half year old only weighs 6 pounds and has never had any other nourishment in its life other than rice. Fashie(the 6 pounder) can not digest anything. I worked this last week in the critical care unit. I really found a friend in Susmina. She is propably six months old and an orphan. She looks like the typical malnourished ethiopian baby but deshi. She has been so neglected she would not let anyone near here but by the end of the week after I finally bribed her with my shiney silver ring she let me hold her and she laughed so I cried! It was amazing!

So that is it for today but I think I should be able to get to internet more often now. There is this lovely little Norweigian living in Lalmonirhat now, her name is Nina and she showed me how to set this blog up. She says I can come update it whenever I have time. So check me out! klem klem(Nina taught me that, it means hug hug)