Postcards from the Edge

of Bangladesh

Four seasons in one day

Ok,they weren’t seasons,they were emotions. And I’m not sure how many emotions there officially are, but I went through a LOT today.

I woke up pissed off because the water was off. Again.

I was annoyed because I was out of drinking water too.

I was frustrated as the ED here is almost NEVER in the office as he is busy with the ongoing leadership battle here. Which in turns means that I’m living in a kind of professional limbo until this whole Executive Council thing is over (general members meeting on 24/25th to vote on new EC and hopefully put this all behind us). Then I can actually start passing on skills, facilitating meaningful change. Etc.

I was irritated because it was hot today. And I was sweating. I like the cloudy, rainy weather. Bring it back please. 

I felt ashamed at all my (internal) moaning when I found out there will be a Buddhist ceremony at the girls’ hostel tomorrow to bless the girl who committed suicide. Jesus, how can I be moaning SO much about the little annoying things in my life when such big, terrible things have recently happened. 

I felt happy and impressed with myself when various Chakma sentences of mine were understood by people in the tea shop. They ACTUALLY understood what I was trying to say. Ok, I might not have got everything perfect, and they are just baby sentences. I only know how to conjugate 3 verbs: Go, Come, Eat. But it’s surprising how far those three can get you. Definitely motivation to learn a new verb everyday. AND use it.

I felt an overwhelming sense of compassion and sadness for a little boy who is in the mini-hospital next door. His one eye is super swollen (looks like a golf ball) due to an infected chickenpox spot that was scratched too much. He’s been waiting a week for the doctor to return from Dhaka for an operation. Which he is having tomorrow morning. The little thing is in so much pain, and was just silently crying while I sat next to him rubbing his back. Shit. Then I started crying. He’s about 10 years old, on his own, away from his family, spending the night alone, in pain, waiting for a big scary operation tomorrow. And now I’m crying typing this. Christ. I’m so not a crier. But seeing him just broke my heart. It finished me.

Bangladesh is doing something to me… I tell you. Fortress Visagie is being demolished, one wall at a time. 

Sjoe.

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2 Comments»

  Lorna wrote @

Good god what is happening to you…..i thought only wives were emotional!!!!!! lol xx

  estellevisagie wrote @

I know, right, I’m like a different person. What is happening to meeeeee? At this rate, I’ll have to find a husband to cope with all this emotion…


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