A little trouble makes it worth the going
I've discovered something new. During these last few weeks, as I've labored feverishly on The Manual I've given up going across the street to my house for a hot lunch. Instead I have Sheuli deliver my lunch to the office a few minutes before lunch time in a tiffin. When the office staff sit down for lunch I open my pail, and we all spend a few minutes eating and talking.
For three years I have been unsettled and frustrated in communicating with the director of the partner I work with most closely. He is always busy in his office when I go to interrupt with a question, and seems timid when he comes into my office for anything. I must screw my courage on tight to come with anything to him, and half the time I don't get an answer, or he starts laughing for no reason I can fathom.
However, at lunch he is a whole other person. We talk comfortably about food, Bangladeshi or North American culture, or even work things. Most of the time I understand his jokes, and if I don't the assistant director explains them. The whole office staff, who has always been friendly and available, gathers and discusses anything that strikes our fancy. They laugh at my boiled vegetables, I laugh at their fried onions with bony fish. Instead of the 20 minute lunches I had hoped for, providing extra time to plug away at my manual, lunch has turned into hour long extravaganzas. Relaxed time where I explain the phenomenon of American tanning (tanning beds and spray on tans are unthinkable in a country where many bleach their skin to be lighter) and they recount the intricacies of the Hindu diet and gossip about who's getting married and what the cook's son scored on the SSC (read SAT.)
Sheuli will be delivering my lunches to the office for the rest of my time in Bangladesh.
For three years I have been unsettled and frustrated in communicating with the director of the partner I work with most closely. He is always busy in his office when I go to interrupt with a question, and seems timid when he comes into my office for anything. I must screw my courage on tight to come with anything to him, and half the time I don't get an answer, or he starts laughing for no reason I can fathom.
However, at lunch he is a whole other person. We talk comfortably about food, Bangladeshi or North American culture, or even work things. Most of the time I understand his jokes, and if I don't the assistant director explains them. The whole office staff, who has always been friendly and available, gathers and discusses anything that strikes our fancy. They laugh at my boiled vegetables, I laugh at their fried onions with bony fish. Instead of the 20 minute lunches I had hoped for, providing extra time to plug away at my manual, lunch has turned into hour long extravaganzas. Relaxed time where I explain the phenomenon of American tanning (tanning beds and spray on tans are unthinkable in a country where many bleach their skin to be lighter) and they recount the intricacies of the Hindu diet and gossip about who's getting married and what the cook's son scored on the SSC (read SAT.)
Sheuli will be delivering my lunches to the office for the rest of my time in Bangladesh.
3 Comments:
Hey, did I say 'congrats' on finishing ya thingeee ma jingeee? I think you should celebrate by reading a book! Enjoy Cox's (I've decided you've decided to go). xx
Alana,
I have thought a lot about this article and I have even mentioned this to others. You are observant and sensitive to the culture around you. How interesting that our western culture puts manuals and things before relationships and so many others put relationships before other things. I think that you have learned something here of great importance. It also reaffirms some ideas of my own.
Dad
hmmmmm...I'm waiting for a wee update. actually, i'm waiting to talk directly to u. just sitting here and waiting waiting waiting...
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