Shati is an orphan as well and was married very young to a very bad man. Eventually she took her beautiful baby girl Martina and left him thankfully. She is now married to a wonderful man here named Julian who treats her so well. Usually Shati keeps her hair up when she is cooking, but if you get a chance to see her smile with her hair down, she looks like a beautiful Bengali model. She's taught me about love and life, as well as how to cut using those floor knives and how to make Bengali potatoes. I can't say enough good things about her. She has become like a pseudo-mother, auntie if you will, for me here. I told her that when we all get to heaven, I told her that I'm coming to her house for lunch every day. She's an absolutely incredible woman through and through.
Ahh Sunday's... You gotta love them. lol With school still switched from Friday to Sunday, I took a break today to get some projects done, clean up, and rest overall. It's getting so hot here... Most of the electricity current goes to the pumps to fill the growing rice fields so we don't have power here in the daytime. And there is only so much you can do when there is no power and you're working with laptops. Nonetheless, Ryan and I got just a little bit closer to finishing the Handicraft catalog and brochure we've been working on. I also took time to read more of the book I've been neglecting to read that my aunt send with me called "The Story of Edgar Sawtelle." It's an interesting novel about a mute boy who is raised on a farm that breeds dogs. I haven't gotten more than 80pgs into this 566pg beast but it's pretty good thus far.I know I'll have more time to read when I'm in transit around India and Thailand in a couple weeks. Dad leaves exactly two weeks from today (Friday) from YVR. Then we (the Waid's, Brittni, Dad and I) leave the orphanage exactly THREE weeks from today to go our separate ways. Oh dear. This really IS all coming to an end. Such a crazy thought.
I feel like I'm already experiencing reverse culture shock. I'm imaging how it's going to be on the ride home from the airport, how driving down to WallaWalla's going to feel, how stepping into my first day of classes back at school. Eating hamburgers, bagels, coffee, lettuce salad, and all the other things that haven't been apart of my diet for the past 6months. And what about my rice? I can count on probably two hands the number of days that I HAVEN'T had rice since arriving in Bangladesh. No jokes.
Honestly, I'm nervous to come back and spend time with people who have never been in a third world country or seen the kind of poverty I've seen. I worried I'm going to be harsh and incredulous that they live the their lives in such a way that they don't even think about the severe conditions some people live in. I used to be like that. I'm scared to go back to living my life like that. I'm scared of forgetting the lessons I've learned and the people I've fallen in love with over here. Ami boi pa (I'm afraid).
Elliot wrote me a message on Facebook the other day. It said there is no place in the world like Bangla Hope. Soak it in as much as you can because when you are gone you will miss it with everything you've got. You just wish to be back for even a second. Live each day to the max so you don't leave with regrets.
So three weeks left. I know I've said this before, and most likely will say this in the future, but I'm determined to make the most out of this experience. Pray for me!
ami tomake bhalobashi
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