Thanksgiving, Dhaka Style (November 26)

Shockingly enough, Thanksgiving is not a Bangladeshi Holiday, so we didn't celebrate until the Friday after Thanksgiving.  Since we're ten to twelve hours ahead of the US, though, we sort of celebrated on the right day.

Mom, Dad and I started off with a do-it-ourselves turkey trot of about 5Ks.  Maybe next year we'll have to organize one for others to join us!  That was immediately followed by Dad's softball game, church and then our first Starbucks coffee in months.  (Thanks, Grandpa!)

Dad's very excited about trying out the new French press.

While Dad made coffee and tried to teach me to sweep and set a table, Mom stuffed four chickens with fresh garlic and lemon, along with peppercorns and rosemary. In the absence of twine or unwaxed dental floss, she toothpickid them together.

Mom then carried casserole dishes all over our apartment building and ended up with green beans, apple stuffing, pumpkin mash, corn bake and cheesy carrots in three different ovens, two of which were missing a temperature gauge.  At three o'clock, the Larsons (American) showed up with rolls, fresh veggies and two pies; the Snowdons (British) brought their table, mashed potatoes and cranberry sauce; Auntie Kim (Australian) brought a chocolate pie, Coach Sam (British) brought some drinks, and Dipak (Bangladeshi) brought his Bangla expertise (he's Mom's teacher).

They all started playing Mom's dorky quiz games (one American and one non-American per team, please) while I tried to keep track of what was in which oven for how long.

Ben, Zach and Gary won the first game of the day!

Finally, all four chickens, the extra pieces Mom roasted at the last minute, Ruth's perfect gravy and all the other dishes were ready and Dad taught me a little about carving up a bird.  It reminded me of all of our grilling lessons in Baltimore and I got a little sentimental, but was distracted by the acrobatics it took to get all fifteen people sitting in our dining room.

After dinner was the American football game attended by a hoard of Bangladeshi mosquitoes, so I ducked out early to play hot and cold with Gracia and help her and Auntie Kim get the pies out and ready.

pumpkin, chocolate, banana cream and apple, plus the ice cream
Happy first Thanksgiving, Kim!

There were quite a few more games that evening, including Gobble-Gobble (which involves loud gobbling that increases in speed as the contestant nears a hidden turkey), Thanksgiving Paper Rock Scissors (Turkey, Plymouth Rock, Pilgrim) and Settlers of Catan.  I was most excited about Ruth's Pumpkin Race game, which never happened because I just couldn't stay awake through all of the fun.  Maybe next year!

Thanks to everyone who helped to make our Bengali Thanksgiving a success.

P.S.  I apologize that there aren't any group shots to share.  I've tried to take over the photography duties from Mom, and find the camera's culinary value much higher than it's picture-taking value, so I can often be found jerking it into my mouth at the most important photo-ops.  

I've been looking forward to this since July 29. (November 17-22)

Grandpa Davidson came to visit me for almost a whole week, and it was my best week in Dhaka so far!

Mom was so excited about his arrival that she tried to make Mormor's buns and cinnamon rolls, which looked great until she baked them and they turned into pancakes.  Grandpa and Dad are such nice guys that they told her they liked them anyway, and I liked the bites that Grandpa snuck to me, too. 

In fact, Grandpa feeding me turned into a bit of a theme for the week.  He let me try bread, crackers, lots of bananas, watermelon, rice and pears while he was here.  Those are just the foods Mom knows about.  I'm not even going to mention the ice cream or banana cream pie he may or may not have snuck to me because I don't want her to find out.  

Sometimes I was a little stubborn when he wanted me to eat healthy food.  He usually won, though.

Other than eating, what we did with Grandpa was travel around Dhaka.  We took rickshaws, CNGs and lots of stroller rides.  I'm getting pretty good at the whole rickshaw thing now, so it was a fun extra challenge to try to get all four of the members of our family onto one rickshaw.  This driver wasn't too happy about it, though, and told Dad to get off when his back, right tire lost air.  At least he let us take a picture before we started walking!

While Grandpa was here, most of Dhaka was celebrating the Eid-ul-Azha holiday, so he helped me to experience my first Muslim sacrifice day.  It was a grotesque anatomy lesson and sober reminder that so many in this city so desperately need to know about unconditional love.

Dad took advantage of my pastor-grandpa's visit to have a guest speaker in his year six (fifth grade) Bible class.  They enjoyed having him and playing Bible Tic-Tac-Know so much that many of them asked for his autograph afterward!  His salt and light lesson is quiet inspirational!

This is me loving every minute of Grandpa time!

Grandpa did try to sneak me back to Arizona, but my nine kilograms put him over the twenty-kilo limit for Emirates Airlines.  Now I'm counting the days until Mashi Angie's wedding in June when I know I get to see him and the rest of my Davidson relatives again!  Thanks so much for visiting, Grandpa.

My Trip to Mymensingh (November 10-12)

I have so many things I need to catch up on, I know.  I've been busy working on all four front teeth at once, so all the time I've had at home has been pretty much occupied with gnawing on furniture, wall corners, an occasional teething toy, and toothbrushes.  Sorry for falling behind.

Almost three weeks ago I was invited by Ms. Aleta to join sixteen of her year five (fourth grade) students and my mom on a trip to Mymensingh. (Yes, you say the sentence "My men sing" and you've mastered the pronunciation.)  It is about three and a half hours by bus straight north of Dhaka, where I live.

many of the students in the class
They were always willing to do silly things to get me to smile!

While in Mymensingh, Ms. Aleta (in the front of the boat below) organized all kinds of fun for us, like this two-hour boat ride down a tributary of the Brahmaputra,

a trip to an organic farm where everyone got to fish,

a tour of the Sacred Mark soap factory where the students letter pressed decorative wrapping and learned about ritha nut soap,

and lots of time to breathe unpolluted air and smile.  Thanks, Ms. Aleta!  I can't wait to get more hugs from you.

Mom and Dad want to use me as a PR ploy to get on this show:

Amazing Race in Dhaka

Thinking of my Nana

because it was her birthday on Friday.  I wish I could have celebrated with her!

If she were here, I'd give her all the snuggle time she wanted for her birthday!

Already Missing Him

I had such a wonderful time with my grandpa!  He fed me all kinds of  things like donuts made with white flour, juicy watermelon and all kinds of bananas, made me laugh when he carried me on his shoulders, and gave me all kinds of love.  I don't know how I'm going to wait until June to see him again.

I can't wait

to see my Most Exalted Grandfather tonight.  I'm going to Hazrat Shahjalal International Airport in Mr. Muzibar's bus in less than two hours to pick him up!

Inspired by a Slam Poet

Traffic near the New Market shopping bazaar

Five Times a Day

an audio haiku written while in Dhaka by Taylor Mali

Five times [every] day

All activity ceases

Except the traffic.

Of course, I recommend listening to the poem by clicking on the link above.  I still like hearing sounds more than looking at words.

Dhaka rainy day traffic

Last week, thanks to the generosity of some good friends, Kim, Krista, Ben and Gemma, Mom and Dad got to go on two dates!  Kim and Krista watched me while they ran an 11K together one morning as a part of the DiffeRUNce series of races.  Then, last Sunday, Ben and Gemma watched me while my parents went to a Taylor Mali poetry reading at the American International School.

While the slam poet was in town, Mom even got to go to a poetry workshop with him.  Here's one of her poems from the class:

Hairballs and Blue Tack 

My heart is a neon green teething ring that fell to the floor after one good gnaw, was dragged across an unswept hairball and needs desperately to be boiled.

My heart is a calendar page, cut out and blue-tacked to the wall to recall frozen crystals and thin air.

My heart is an AC unit with yellowed Arabic lettering and mildewed grates that drip-drips through baby’s night wakes.

Dad's Saturday Mornings

Dad spends his Saturday morning out in the Bengali heat now that football (OK, soccer for those of you back in America) season is in full swing.  Since we live somewhere other than the US now, it seems that all the kids and their parents talk about football and anyone who wants to play sports, plays football.  That means that Dad has practice after school every day and then from 7:30 to about 11 every Saturday morning so that he can get in all of the age groups for both boys and girls.

This is a boys' practice at the field a couple of blocks from our house.  Of course, Dad doesn't mind much when they need one more person and he has to get out on the field, too.  That's him in the green shirt and black shorts.

When he's not coaching a practice, Dad spends his afternoons and weekends at matches.  This weekend there is a big girls' tournament at the American International School and French Schools' fields.  So far, his girls have had a game on Thursday (loss) and two on Friday (both wins!).  He's at another one right now, but we're cheering from home so I don't miss my nap.

This is Dad sitting with Coach Giblett next to him and some of his girls behind them.  They're scoping out the competition for their next game.

Bowman Crossing Borders: The Gear Issue

Dear Patagonia,

Please make a capilene nursing tank top.  Mom was very gross and sweaty every time I wanted to eat during the day, and she would probably special order one all the way to Bangladesh if you had one. 

Dear Sherpani,

Thank you for the great carrier.  I like to ride around in it, and never even slipped when Mom tripped all over the descent of Sandakph.  Plus, the great rain cover kept me dry during the rain that we hiked in all five days of our trek!  I would, however, appreciate a built in neck pillow.  Sometimes sleeping was a bit difficult and Dad had to stuff strange pieces of clothing around my head so I wasn’t always tipping out.

Dear Patagonia,

Feel free to use this picture as an add for you baby line.  I know it’s pretty much perfect with the Tibetan prayer flags and exotic foliage in the background.  Plus, Dad’s wearing your gear, too.