Postcards from the Edge

of Bangladesh

Slippery when wet

And now the other two VSO volunteers have left to continue their research elsewhere in the Hill Tracts.

Our last night was spent lighting candles at the temple for the Buddihist festival (we never did find out what the festival was called, or what is was for/about), drinking tea and trying to smoke a traditional pipe with some locals. I’ll have to get some photos of this, as it’s a trifle difficult to explain.

And the rainy season appears to have now begun. We’ve been getting quite a lot of rain, which is great as it’s no longer so hot. We’ve now moved from hot to soggy. Decidedly soggy. And slipperly. VERY slippery.

The walkways between houses are soil/ground, not paved and tarred like this Bideshi is used to. And I think I must own the world’s most grip-less sandals. I am forever slipping, even on paved surfaces (which get mossy with all the rain). No major injuries yet. Except for one incident at the water pump. Where I performed a spectacular ‘slip on a banana skin’ slide, landing on my back. On the stairs. After which I managed pick myself (without even crying or anything) so see about 50 school children staring at me with a combination of shock, horror and amusement. I then had to limp back to my house, with slime and dirt all over the back and sides of my salwar kameez, trying to not drop the damn heavy water jug. While trying not to cry. Not my finest moment. My neighbour on the other hand thought it was HYSTERICAL when she saw me.

This happened a few weeks ago now. And I’m still getting told by people that they heard about my fall at the water pump. News has travelled far and wide. This might be remembered as The Year The Bideshi Fell.

So while the locals are like little billy goats -hop, skip, jump, no problem, no slipping – I’m like a giraffe. A giraffe with slippery shoes.

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