Madam

When we hired our househelper, she immediately called me "Madam". It made me feel uncomfortable, especially to be called it by someone more than half again my age. I actually felt ashamed; it made me feel like there was a hierarchy in our home, but I didn't want there to be one. But in the country, you can see a hierarchy still exists. And being a foreigner, I am called "Madam" by nearly every Bangladeshi that I meet.

The first time Mokta referred to herself by saying "your servant", it made me cringe. We talked that day, and I told her the word servant made me feel bad, that we were as happy to have her help us in our home as much as she was happy to have employment. That it was a partnership, and we needed each other. Since that day, I think we've both grown to know and respect each other very well. When I told her my name in the beginning, she had to pronounce it ten times. And when asked what she'd like to call me, she said "Madam". She explained that's what she has called all of her employers, and it's what is easy and comfortable for her.

Now, "Madam" no longer makes me uncomfortable or ashamed, as I know that she is happy in our home and being a part of our family. When she says "my Madam", it feels more endearing than before. Maybe when she hears us say "our Mrs. Mokta" she also feels that same endearment. I hope so :)

Mardi Gras!

Many moons ago, before children, we participated annually in the Soulard Mardi Gras festivities in St. Louis. We used to do a float in the parade every year with my sister, Debbie, and hoop in up in the Lou.

Last year, we decided we really missed the Mardi Gras festivities, so coordinated a party at our place for the embassy folks. It was a great success, and so we decided to make it an annual event for our family (at least during the overseas years, as when in the US we might actually be at Mardi Gras). 

Over the weekend, we hosted our 2nd Annual Mardi Gras party, but this year, we did it on the roof. Our rooftop is usually a garden, but on Friday night, it became a party, decked out with lights, a bar (from a leftover Tiki prop from the chancery), balloons, music, food, booze and friends. We covered the tables with newspaper, though no traditional shrimp boil. The lights were hung by a local company, all 15,000 of them, which made the scene. One of the embassy GSO guys does electronics after hours, so he brought in 2 ginormous speakers and about thumped us off the roof with Zydeco and dance beats. We also took up a projector and showed The Princess and The Frog on the wall for the kids.

Food... no shortage in that department. Most of the guests brought either a side dish or a bottle of wine. One of our Louisiana born guest, brought authentic jambalaya and gumbo, while I made shrimp etouffee, king cakes and some odds & ends. 

We were thrilled that many people dressed up for the occasion. Donations were made to Jaago school also, so we were happy that they could benefit a little from our festivities.

The weather was perfect, and we even had a beautiful moon for the occasion. The mosquitoes stayed at bay by the light breeze. For a few hours, we all felt that we weren't even in Dhaka.

Our rockstars

Snacking, singing, 

styling and 

playing!

Sonargaon

Last weekend, the girls and I headed out of Dhaka for a much awaited day trip to our housekeeper/ayah's (Mrs. Mokta) village. Chris got unexpectedly called out of town for work, so sadly missed our outing. For weeks, Mokta's family were aware of our coming, and they were so excited when we finally arrived.

To beat the traffic, we chose a Friday (work week here is Sun-Thurs) and departed at 0700. Our driver, Bijoy, and Mokta's middle son, Almamand, escorted us to Sonargaon, an important Hindu and Muslim city founded around 1281. You can check out the Wikipedia link above, if you want to learn more.

We parked at a CNG (like a little taxi) stand, where Mokta and some family met us. All packed with food, gifts and essentials, we hiked our way back through the alley ways to her family's home. She lives in Dhaka, but her eldest son and his family live on her land in the village. Her grandson stays in Dhaka with her, to enjoy the advantages of better schooling. They live in a corner of the village, her brothers, sisters and family all next door to each other with an open community area with a shared kitchen and bathroom facilities off to one side. Her son is also building (all himself) a new home for his young family.

While Mokta tended to Avocet (and the ladies passed her around to play), several of us journeyed into town to see Lok Shilpa Jadughar (Folk Art & Craft Museum), built in 1977,  and a street of ancient buildings in Panam City.

 

 

 Panam City is such a historic area, with amazing architecture and beauty, but there is currently no protection from tourists or vandalism. I hope it survives for future generations to enjoy.

After our little adventure into town, we returned to a large lunch in the village. Mokta, her friend Marian and her daughter-in-law Rashida had prepared a giant meal. We had brought along a baked 17 lb turkey, fruit and cupcakes, along with snacks and gifts. Ceiba enjoyed the excuse to eat with her hands, as everyone here in Bangladesh does. And after lunch, we played some more and walked about the village.

 

 

Most people here have no photographs of themselves, so I was more than thrilled to change that. At first upon pulling out my camera, everyone gave a small grin, but it took only minutes for the group to be a buzz, waiting for their chance with the camera. In Bangladesh, one is taught to give a straight face for a pose, but each time they did, I'd lower the camera and smile. They would giggle and follow suit. We had a wonderful few hours visiting and taking photos, which I'll send back with Mokta to distribute.

 

Mokta knows how I love Bangla weddings! Her niece was going to a wedding, so allowed us to escort her. Basically, we crashed the wedding, but offered our well wishes and a gift to the couple. The brides here are so elaborate. No matter the wealth of a family, no expense is spared to lavish the new couple. 

 

We topped off the day with a drive through the rice paddies and a stop at another family member's home just in time to miss the day's festivities. Their son's "cutting ceremony" (circumcision) had been done earlier in the day. The tents were coming down as we said our hellos, but they still welcomed us in for a seat, a visit and some fresh fruit. Each time we visit, hospitality abounds. I sometimes feel we are intruding, but Mokta reassures me they are honored to host a foreigner in their home. Plus, it gives them good stories to share with their friends in the following days.

We headed back home to Dhaka around dusk. Half of the village escorted us to our car. One of the young girls held my hand the whole walk to the car and said how she'd miss us. We could not have had a better time, only missing the company of Chris. The hope of a restful drive home while the girls slept was a pipe dream... they were awake all the way home. We all slept well in our beds after an exciting day of exploring yet another beautiful corner of exotic Bangladesh.