The Children - Some

Here are some photos of the beautiful children of Families For Children Bangladesh. If you look in their eyes it's incredible what you can see...

Our Eid Party

Nila!

The world is an amazing place....

Liton

Josna

Tamara & Riya!

The work in Bangladesh continues with my friend Linda who is a retired Montessori teacher. She has set up a classroom with amazing resources and is already seeing results. I encourage you to keep an eye on Families For Children Bangladesh, to consider sponsoring a child or even to volunteer yourself.

Thanks for reading!

New Digs

After much consideration and the thoughtful advice from those who have experienced what I am experiencing. I decided to move to a new location for rest and rejouvenation. I have moved to our co-op and Spa. It's sounds so glamourous I even hate to say it. But the truth is, that for Bangladesh it is.

After being here for just under 2 weeks I came down with a fever that lasted 3 days followed by one day of a bad stomach and all that goes with that. I am fine now and don't know if it was something bad I ate, the infamous Denghe (spelling?) that inflicts some through what I believe is a mosquito bite or just a simple fever that everyone here seems to get. It was going to happen with 150 kids and me. However, I was not getting enough sleep and I got sick, so my friends in Canada and here in Dhaka suggested a quieter location.

I travel here in the evening by rickshaw but take an older boy with me for security. I am happy to pay the 10 taka extra for him to get a ride back home to the orphanage. Not only is it security but it gives me a chance to chat with one more youth one on one.

In the mornings I am content to go downstairs in my new Bangla dress call for a 'Cali!' (empty Rickshaw) tell them....Sector 9, Mascot Plaza, ask how much 'koto taka?' negotiate for 10 only and then take the ride to the orphanage/school. It makes me feel pretty good to negotiate this myself. It is safe, especially during the day and although everyone stares at me, I am very comfortable.

The streets are lined with furniture for sale, right beside the pineapples which is right beside the man selling shoes laid out on a piece of canvas. Amazing place Dhaka is.

The Spa is a co-op built by FFC and in particular Kristen Petri, my predecessor. She received a grant from the government to set this up. It will be used for a long time to train our girls to work in Beauty Parlours. There are many in Bangladesh, probably because of the climate.
Those who really know me will be surprised to learn that I had a facial (my first every) and a manicure (again, a first). I never in a million years thought that I would come to Dhaka to become 'girly'.

At night I hear dogs barking, and police whistles. It is illegal for children to be out after dark alone. I worry a little about them as I hear the whistles but know that for them all of this is NORMAL, it is only ME that finds this strange. My bed is covered in a mosquito net and I pretend to be a princess. I sleep in a silk sleeping bag liner, which is great for keeping out the bedbugs. I have not seen any but who needs to take a chance. When it rains, and it rains a lot, the rain pours onto the roof, down the stairwell and into the place. Quite the system. But again, it's just the way it is, in Bangladesh.

(Sumi sitting on my bed)

My kitchen is stocked with peanut butter and jam, tea and coffee and a few chocolate chips for when I get a craving. Everything must go in the fridge though, I think this place was built on an ant hill the way they infest the place. No worries though, more food for the cockroaches. We play a stomping game and the kids think it's funny that I am not afraid of them.

Every day I feel like I am getting closer to the kids. I touch, hug, stroke, and tell them I love them as often as I can. I tell them that they are important, that I came here for them and that if they want to and work hard enough, that they can go and be and do anything that they want. My only fear is that I am creating unrealistic dreams. But then again, who is to say? I actually believe it and so I will say it. Nothing that I would not say to you, each one of you who read this.
All my love,Tamara

Day 10 - Camp

In Bangladesh everything is upside down. There is more food than I want to eat, there is more green than I ever expected, plastic bags are illegal yet there is garbage EVERYWHERE, children are more intelligent than adults, right is wrong and wrong is right...depending who you ask (see last item in list to understand).

Today we planned to travel to camp. What I expected to be a joyous occasion celebrating our rural outpost for FFC was nothing less than a joyous visit including watching the children swim and play outdoors, eat several celebratory meals followed by a panic stricken free for all complete with an epileptic seizure, panic attack, a runaway, and the threatened firing of 3 staff. I found myself genuinely wondering what the hell I had gotten myself into. It is so difficult to explain the day. Perhaps because I can't begin to understand it yet myself.

Camp is supposed to be a retreat. A place to escape the stress, dirt and limits of the city. There is a pond, fields, animals and more. But this place seems to have turned into a prison for some of our boys complete with lockdown and punishment using bamboo rods. Kristen and I were devastated. The boys took us aside one by one begging to take them back to Dhaka.....do you hear me? Back to Dhaka! We found out that they were being hit, and warned not to talk to Kristen for fear of reprisal. It is so difficult to explain to adults that although hitting with a 1 inch in diameter stick may be culturally acceptable in Bangladesh, it is NOT acceptable to the many Canadian sponsors and government officials who approve our charitable status.

We brought an extra 6 boys home and will get more tomorrow. Staff have been warned and although Kristen (known as the axe queen here at FFC) is leaving October 5th, I will fire those who hurt the children. I will close the camp if need be.

You cannot begin to imagine a place with about 50 kids all begging for attention or begging to leave the camp for Dhaka. The pain in their eyes was exhausting. How do you say, 'sorry dear there just isn't enough room in the car'? You don't! You pile in as many as you can, tell the rest that you will be back in the morning, tell the staff that their jobs are on the line, pray to whatever god you choose to pray to, get in the van and drive off. Oh, and then you cry, if you can.

We arrive home, and Rea our housemother insists upon decorating me with Henna for EID tomorrow. EID is like Christmas, so this is Christmas Eve in Bangladesh. I don't have a new dress for EID, but I have a henna arm and hand and I have the experience of a lifetime....isn't that what I wanted to come here for?