A white girl by any other name...
...would probably smell just as sweaty as I do now.
~
In Zambia I was a mzungu. In Bangladesh I am a bideshi. Both are names for a white person and white person is, of course, short for “unearthly colourless creature to be started at.” It’s interesting, though, because my experiences as a white girl in Lusaka and Dhaka are quire different. In Zambia, being white was (to the disbelief of white people here) even more obvious than it is in Bangladesh, which is partly due to differences in skin colour and partly due to the fact that seeing a white person in Zambia seemed to be much more of an event; people shouted out “mzungu!”, ran towards you, tried to talk to you, tried to touch you. In Dhaka it is much less overt: they just stare. And yet somehow I feel more out of place in my white skin here than I did in Africa. And, as I walked through a busy intersection yesterday, I realized why: there are just so many people staring. No, they don’t yell, or point, or make a scene, but when there are what feel like tens of thousands of eyes on you, they don’t have to.
~
For the most part, things are going extremely well so far. I have a decent apartment all to myself, I live in a green, relatively ‘quiet’ neighbourhood, I work in a great office in a nice neighbourhood and have wonderful colleagues, and am even making some progress in understanding my job. The only problem I am having at the moment is that I am consumed by a feeling of disorientation. I know it will pass, but right now I feel like I don’t understand much of anything around me – the words, the gestures, the signs – and I don’t have a clue where I am most of the time. And, in such a massive city I’m not quite sure how or where to start understanding it all.
Yesterday afternoon, my Canadian friend David, who has been here for 2 years, helped me get started. We hired a rickshaw for the afternoon (for $5, which was pricey) and he showed me some places to shop in Banani, which is the neighbourhood we live in, and Gulshan, which is the neighbourhood I work in. They are close to eachother, but as I discovered when I finally got to look at a map last night, they are quite removed from the centre of the city. It feels to me like I’m in the eye of the metropolis most of the time, so I'm afraid I lack the capacity to imagine what downtown looks like…
It felt great to get out and see more of the city than my route from home to work and back. We went over bridges, down small, tree-covered lanes, along wide, bustling avenues, past TV shops with crowds pressed against the glass trying to catch a glimpse of Wrestlemania, by military men dressed like Rambo, and through the permanent traffic jams they call intersections. David pointed out all the notable landmarks as we went – unfortunately, population density requires each building to house about ten establishments, each with their own sign out front, which makes it difficult to figure out exactly where things are.
Of course this wasn't just a sightseeing tour; we were there to shop! Our first stop was a high-end craft shop with an amazing array of textiles. Or so I thought until I later realized that every second shop in Dhaka has an equally amazing array of textiles. We then visited a ‘western’ style grocery store (which also sold textiles) with a decent variety of products including vegetables I’d never seen before. Then we went to an electronics shop that sold everything from ipods, to men’s shirts, to pirated DVDs, to potato chips. And finally we went to the Gulshan 1 market, an incredible indoor maze of shops selling furniture, food, textiles, household goods, fountains… you name it and you can probably find it there.
After all that I was ‘shesh’ (sp?): finished. We headed home with our purchases and ate leftover curry while discussing the merits of arranged marriages and where to find alcohol.
~
I like Dhaka. I like the rickshaws. I like the vegetation. The tropical climate is delightful, if a tad damp. I like the water – even though it’s a little gross it adds ambiance. I like the colourful clothing. I like that things happen at night; shops are open until 8 or 10pm, and the streets have a lively ambience, complete with men selling snacks off of candlelit carts.
~
In Zambia I was a mzungu. In Bangladesh I am a bideshi. Both are names for a white person and white person is, of course, short for “unearthly colourless creature to be started at.” It’s interesting, though, because my experiences as a white girl in Lusaka and Dhaka are quire different. In Zambia, being white was (to the disbelief of white people here) even more obvious than it is in Bangladesh, which is partly due to differences in skin colour and partly due to the fact that seeing a white person in Zambia seemed to be much more of an event; people shouted out “mzungu!”, ran towards you, tried to talk to you, tried to touch you. In Dhaka it is much less overt: they just stare. And yet somehow I feel more out of place in my white skin here than I did in Africa. And, as I walked through a busy intersection yesterday, I realized why: there are just so many people staring. No, they don’t yell, or point, or make a scene, but when there are what feel like tens of thousands of eyes on you, they don’t have to.
~
For the most part, things are going extremely well so far. I have a decent apartment all to myself, I live in a green, relatively ‘quiet’ neighbourhood, I work in a great office in a nice neighbourhood and have wonderful colleagues, and am even making some progress in understanding my job. The only problem I am having at the moment is that I am consumed by a feeling of disorientation. I know it will pass, but right now I feel like I don’t understand much of anything around me – the words, the gestures, the signs – and I don’t have a clue where I am most of the time. And, in such a massive city I’m not quite sure how or where to start understanding it all.
Yesterday afternoon, my Canadian friend David, who has been here for 2 years, helped me get started. We hired a rickshaw for the afternoon (for $5, which was pricey) and he showed me some places to shop in Banani, which is the neighbourhood we live in, and Gulshan, which is the neighbourhood I work in. They are close to eachother, but as I discovered when I finally got to look at a map last night, they are quite removed from the centre of the city. It feels to me like I’m in the eye of the metropolis most of the time, so I'm afraid I lack the capacity to imagine what downtown looks like…
It felt great to get out and see more of the city than my route from home to work and back. We went over bridges, down small, tree-covered lanes, along wide, bustling avenues, past TV shops with crowds pressed against the glass trying to catch a glimpse of Wrestlemania, by military men dressed like Rambo, and through the permanent traffic jams they call intersections. David pointed out all the notable landmarks as we went – unfortunately, population density requires each building to house about ten establishments, each with their own sign out front, which makes it difficult to figure out exactly where things are.
Of course this wasn't just a sightseeing tour; we were there to shop! Our first stop was a high-end craft shop with an amazing array of textiles. Or so I thought until I later realized that every second shop in Dhaka has an equally amazing array of textiles. We then visited a ‘western’ style grocery store (which also sold textiles) with a decent variety of products including vegetables I’d never seen before. Then we went to an electronics shop that sold everything from ipods, to men’s shirts, to pirated DVDs, to potato chips. And finally we went to the Gulshan 1 market, an incredible indoor maze of shops selling furniture, food, textiles, household goods, fountains… you name it and you can probably find it there.
After all that I was ‘shesh’ (sp?): finished. We headed home with our purchases and ate leftover curry while discussing the merits of arranged marriages and where to find alcohol.
~
I like Dhaka. I like the rickshaws. I like the vegetation. The tropical climate is delightful, if a tad damp. I like the water – even though it’s a little gross it adds ambiance. I like the colourful clothing. I like that things happen at night; shops are open until 8 or 10pm, and the streets have a lively ambience, complete with men selling snacks off of candlelit carts.
posted by ash at 10:40 PM
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Gwon
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