Give the girls a chance

I experienced a very humbling and rewarding two days in the field this week, and I often found myself smiling while marveling at the opportunities for ground-level interaction that had been laid before me. I interviewed many people from a village called Dhamrai. It was an exhausting process that involved a really sweaty bus ride there (gasp! public transportation is not for foreigners, let alone women!) and hours and hours of interviewing through my tireless translator, Galiba, a spunky 3^rd year student at BRAC University who has really impressed me. Not many young women would do the translation work she is doing for multiple reasons (time spent away from home, the grit of the field, disobeying her mother to perform a typically male-dominated role). Galiba and I, along with a BRAC staff member, hit the road on rickshaws and interviewed multiple adolescent girls (both married and unmarried), shop-owners, community leaders, etc.  in an effort for me to identify the viable markets for income-generating activities for the girls. Sometimes I found myself sitting inside of a tin-wall hut with mud floors. Other times I was at a formal desk or sitting inside of a shop, and I politely accepted many a cup of very sweet tea. (I still cannot seem to sit cross-legged very well.) On the whole our interviewees were beyond gracious and inviting. They provided information about their shops, their friends’ livelihoods, etc., but it was really hard for me to probe into subtleties. I think it’s only human nature for people to report the good and gloss over the bad.

I enjoy interviewing the girls because their stories never cease to surprise me. One girl told me that “she might be 18” (she’s either lying or doesn’t know because she wasn’t issued a birth certificate) and works at a garment factory one hour outside of her town. She goes at dawn with the other ladies from the village and earns 3,000 taka, less than $50 a month for her work. Another girl’s father died in the army and she said that she can’t even remember his face in a very matter-of-fact way without a shred of sadness in her voice. Another girl is studying in university. Another girl married into an extremely wealthy family and just comes to the girls’ club for socialization. All is not perfect in her life, however, as her niece accompanied her, and the little girl has severely misshapen hands and feet and is severely disabled both mentally and physically. Some girls have completed grade 10, others have only reached grade 2 even though they are the same age.

By and large, the girls do not realize the amazing skills they possess. They embroider and sew with mastery, and one girl even insisted that she show me a dress that she worked on for a year. I later asked if we could take a group picture, and she insisted that she wear her orange masterpiece in the photo (see above picture).

I really wonder about what incentive these girls have to learn and advance themselves. Their mothers tend to work at home rearing chickens, ducks, and maybe cows. They are often uneducated because families tend to be large; not all children can attend school. I was particularly saddened when I sat with a group of 20 girls and asked them to individually close their eyes and think of a successful woman they know in their community. Nobody could seem to come up with an example. Then I asked them to think of any woman they know or have heard about regardless of where she might live. Only one girl raised her hand, and she told me that her aunt works for Grameen Bank and is able to use a computer.

These girls lack access. They need institutional and personal connectors to have even the slightest chance of success, and I am feeling more inspired and frustrated every day that I am with them.

During my trips into the market I stumbled upon a really interesting Hindu festival. Bangladesh is primarily Muslim, but there is a strong Hindu minority here, and they were celebrating in the streets with painted faces, statues and flowers. I know that there have been many clashes between the two groups, and I have read a book by Taslima Nasrin, a famous author who was issued a fatwa for her writings about the religious conflict. It was nice to see such a vibrant community thriving, and I was taken aback by how differently the people dressed and adorned themselves. Interestingly, dress itself is a modern source of tension. Most Bangladeshi women wear saris, which tend to reveal a lot of skin in the midsection. I commented on this to a Muslim friend here because I found this custom contradictory to the very conservative tunic and baggy pants ensemble I wear every day. She laughed and agreed that the saris are revealing. She blamed their presence in Bangladesh on the Indian influence and opined that Bangladesh isn’t really religious. Not religious?!! How is that possible when I hear the call to prayer five times a day and I observe women washing their feet every day in the bathroom so that they can pray? I thought her comment to be extremely interesting and provoked a lot of consideration. She seemed to lament Dhaka’s modernity and praised the rural villages and Bangladeshis who live abroad and, in her opinion, are often more observant than those who live here.

I also had an interesting experience today because I visited the “American Club” in Dhaka. I had heard a lot about it, but I was not ready for the perfect tennis courts, basketball courts, gym, pub, and multiple restaurants that I saw when I entered. I realized that I had never been to an expat club before. I have to admit that the ability to run in shorts and order lemonade and a chocolate chip cookie later was amazing and much needed at my half-way point of being here. I saw them assembling a huge red, white, and blue tent, and it took me a while to realize that 4^th of July was the day after! I missed yet another 4^th of July, but I hope you all enjoyed.