Lessons from The Velveteen Rabbit

The Skin Horse had lived longer in the nursery than any of the others. He was so old that his brown coat was bald in patches and showed the seams underneath, and most of the hairs in his tail had been pulled out to string bead necklaces. He was wise, for he had seen a long succession of mechanical toys arrive to boast and swagger, and by-and-by break their mainsprings and pass away, and he knew that they were only toys, and would never turn into anything else. For nursery magic is very strange and wonderful, and only those playthings that are old and wise and experienced like the Skin Horse understand all about it.

"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"

"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."

"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.

"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."

"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"

"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

"I suppose you are real?" said the Rabbit. And then he wished he had not said it, for he thought the Skin Horse might be sensitive.

But the Skin Horse only smiled.

In Love

"It was in love I was created,
and in love is how I hope I die"

-Paolo Nutini

A Favourite

“with your name on my mouth
and a kiss that never
broke away from yours.”

― Pablo Neruda

Forca Portugal!

"In 9 days I leave for Portugal with my entire immediate family. I am very excited for this trip for a plethora of reasons. Firstly, although I've never been there Portugal is a very special place to me as it's where my father, uncle, and grandparents were born and grew up."

I’m a little (okay, okay, a lot) over due on this post. In March, I travelled with my family to where my father was born and raised. Portugal. Travelling with my family made me a bit nervous, as the majority of my travelling has been done solo, which offers its own challenges, but allows you to do what you want when you want, without asking the group for their thoughts or opinions. My family also hasn’t been on a ‘trip’ since I was 13 and we stayed at an all-inclusive resort in Dominican Republic and Sierra was only 4 ½ (she’s 16 now), so it would prove to be...interesting.

This would be a much different trip. 14 days of my family of 6, in a giant rental van, driving all over Portugal to visit relatives I’d never met, beaches on the coast, ruins, historical sites, Fado clubs, and the small village my father grew up in without running water or electricity. On paper it sounds like equal parts disaster waiting to happen, and an adventure I certainly couldn’t wait to partake in.

After a layover in Ottawa and a delayed flight (which everyone took with stride) we were off! When we landed in Lisbon, Portugal I had the weirdest feeling of ‘being home’ considering I had never been there before, and never before had Portugal been on my radar of places I wanted to visit.

Throughout the entire trip I felt like things began to make sense. Pieces of the puzzle began to fit together and I started to understand myself better. Why my grandparents were the way they are, certain mannerisms that my father had passed on to me, even my fathers specific way of interacting with people. I saw people that looked like me, people that behaved like me, and everything became clearer. I didn’t realize, until I was there, how much could be answered by just being in a certain place.

One of the most emotional moments of our trip, was meeting our family still living in the village my Grandmother raised my father and uncle while my Grandfather worked in South America and Europe to provide for them. People in the community that hadn’t seen my father in 8 years (since he had been back to the village, and 30 years before that!) recognized him, they embraced each other and openly cried. Family welcomed us into their homes, sharing so much love for us that it was hard to believe it was our first reunion. Jao, and his family live in a 2 story home, made of particle board, heated by a wood stove, with no electricity and no running water. The village is slowly becoming a ghost town, as a nearby mill was shut down and the economic situation has forced many people to leave the area in order to provide for themselves and their families. Every second or third home is empty, abandoned by families who now only come to visit once a year. The village is surrounded by mountains and forests, and the fog rolled in, creeping over the hills making our joyous reunion feel somber and chilling.

We walked around the town, playing soccer in the streets with our young cousins unable to communicate verbally, they took us to the local hang out spot where we drank espresso and Super Bock, played pool, and visited the school my father attended until he left for Canada. Jao and his family cooked us the most delicious rabbit stew, and the homemade wine didn’t stop flowing until late into the night.

My Grandmother has always been ‘hard.’ I’ve found it hard to have a friendly relationship with her, and although I love her, I’ve often found myself jealous of my friends who have a personal connection with their grandparents. Seeing where she raised by Dad and Uncle, alone, apart from my Grandfather, seeing the fields she worked in the day after giving birth to my dad, because it had to get done, and being able to get a glimpse of what her life was many years ago has given me perspective to why she is the way she is. Why she had to be ‘hard’ to survive. Why she always wanted the best for us, but couldn’t necessarily articulate how much she loved us in a way that we could understand.

All in all, the trip was amazing. Portugal has been added the ever growing list of places and people that own a little bit of my heart, and I know that I will be back, to visit family, to spend more time, to explore, to (hopefully) learn the language, and to explore more of my culture as well.

While the rest of my family stayed in Portugal and travelled North, to Porto for an additional week, Brady and I started our 27 hour journey back to Canada. We had an overnight layover in Frankfurt, and decided to forgo going to sleep early and resting up for our last leg, and headed downtown to have some of the best beer Germany has to offer (why not!)

We were sitting in the most ‘German’ looking tavern, having ‘German’ sized beers, and feeling pretty good about life and about ourselves for choosing adventure over R&R, when we were approached by a local, saying that he had overheard us speaking English. He then asked us if we believed in God. What an odd way to start a conversation with two complete strangers. When we both answered that we believed in something, but weren’t quite sure what he seemed delighted. Apparently we passed the test. He congratulated us on “not being American,” and we went on to have a somewhat philosophical conversation about religion, Americans, and relationships. He then invited us on a walking pub crawl to give them an opportunity to welcome us to Frankfurt, because "we were his guests." Brady and I looked at each other, and immediately accepted the invite. What a better way to spend out 12 hours in Germany.

We had one drink at each place, and went from a smoky, laser filled electronic club where we had fermented apple juice (a German specialty I’m told, sour for the men, sweet for the women), playing ‘Crocodile Dentist” drinking games with the barkeep in a tavern and drinking cheery liquor, to a ‘beer fest’ type venue playing German metal, and lots of chest bumping. Our last stop was a club, where our 5$ cover got us entry and a beer, and the song that greeted us was “Barbie Girl” by Aqua. Brady got ‘roughed’ up by someone who recognized his Jet’s jersey and wanted to give him a hard time which ended in laughter, we danced, had some Jager, and hoped back into a cab so we could pack and rest for an hour before heading for the airport. After some minibar snacks (nowhere was selling food at the time we got downtown, so our adventure took place on an empty stomach), and some brother-sister bonding, we were woken up by our wakeup call 45 minutes later.

The rest of the trip was not my most enjoyable time spent on a plane, but well worth the fun and new found friends we made in Frankfurt.

With more pieces to the puzzle and a few good times later,
Delaney C.

“Someday, somewhere - anywhere, unfailingly, you'll find yourself, and that, and only that, can be the happiest or bitterest hour of your life.” (Pablo Neruda)

Me, at “Cabo da Roca” (a cape which forms the westernmost extent of mainland Portugal and continental Europe)

Tug-of-War

There is a German word, Fernweh, which means "crave for travel; being homesick for a place you've never been." What a beautiful word that so accurately describes how I find myself feeling more often than not these days, and have for the majority of my life.

Even as a young child I was inquisitive, thoughtful, always thinking and always imagining what was happening in other people lives, in other places, in other cultures, and how exciting it was to catch just a glimpse. I’ve been so lucky in my short 24 years to be able to have seen and experienced some of the things that I have. To have had the opportunities to travel to corners of the earth not plagued by mainstream tourism, to speak with locals about serious issues effecting their livelihoods, to work and collaborate with respected local organizations working with people in the area to change the future of their own countries, and to be able to focus on the moment at hand.

A year ago I decided that I would try something new. I would put down some roots, make some commitments, take some chances, not go anywhere for a while, and see what would happen. A grand experiment with my life so to speak. It’s been challenging, more challenging than I first expected to ‘stay put.” I find my mind wandering constantly, to the next adventure, to the next far away place, back to the places I’ve been, and the friend’s I’ve made.

I re-signed a lease on an apartment for the first time, meaning I’ve made a commitment to ‘stay put’ for at least another year, and while on one hand its comforting knowing that I have a place to lay my head, a stable long term job that I love, and a circle of friends that add so much my life I can’t help but feel that part of me (a very important part of me) lays dormant and in wait for the next time I can dust off my backpack and jump into the unknown.

I’m happiest when I am pushed out of my comfort zone. When I’m forced to try to make sense of what’s going on and have been given very little clues. I love the rush that comes from trying to figure out new surroundings, new people, trying new foods with names you can’t pronounce, overhearing new languages, new scents, and new environments.

I’ve been trying to keep busy in Winnipeg. Volunteering with community events (Jazz Festival, Fringe Festival) and community organizations (Elizabeth Fry Society) which has kept my monsters at bay as there is always something going on, something new to learn, and something new to see, however it hasn’t helped me find a balance, and I feel that as soon as I stop packing every day with excitement and high energy activity I’ll book a one way plane ticket to Istanbul and not look back (for at least 6 months anyways).

In the next year, I will become more comfortable with what is familiar. With what I know. With routine. I will work on finding a balance, on slowing down, on appreciating ‘down time.’ I will continue to actively participate in my community, to learn the finer nuances of my job, and to find ways to explore and adventure in my own back yard.



"If you learn to love, you might love life"
Delaney C

Kony2012 and the 'Social Media Activism' Boom

I'm happy that people are becoming aware of an issue. It might be a starting point, but before 'starting' anything, be critical, get the facts, make a thoughtful educated decision, and then do more than share a video that's gone viral, do more than put up posters or tell your friends, just do more. Explore more issues, and make sure that you're paying attention to what's happening in Canada, in our own country, and across the world as well, not just when its 'trending' but every day, because when the KONY2012 videos stop being posted it doesn't mean the situation is over, or the cause no longer worth while, it just means that people have gotten bored.

Like I said, I'm all up for people getting aware, getting involved, getting passionate, and wanting to make a difference. I would never shame someone for wanting to start, everyone has their own starting points after all, and I've been involved with some programs, and donated money to some agencies, that I would chose not to given the information and experience I have now. However sometimes 'starting' something without knowing all the facts can be extremely detrimental. I don't have a better answer, I don't have a solution. But just because I don't, doesn't mean that you should support KONY 2012 just because it's something else or something better. Something isn't always better than nothing. Sometimes it's worse.

I've debated the idea of 'social media activism' the importance of raising awareness and what amazing and popularized tools (twitter, tumblr, facebook, youtube, THE INTERNET) my generation has at our fingertips to be connected across the world instantly and how we typically use these amazing, and powerful tools to gossip about the Kardashian's, complain about having to work late, or follow the newest trends, and don't even come close to tapping into its full potential as a tool that can quite possibly change the world as we know it.

My friend Rayannah Kroeker summed up my feelings pretty well when she posted her comments on Facebook, the very place that this video http://vimeo.com/37119711 has exploded over the last two days, going viral and eliciting many different responses from my varied Facebook friends.

"I have never seen my newsfeed so covered with a social justice issue before. People care. People are learning about the LRA. And I know that those who are posting about KONY are doing it with good intentions. And those intentions give me hope.

I would love to feel that this campaign will lead to a Uganda where every person young or old can find opportunity, or better yet, create it.... I'd love to feel that this is going to drive real and lasting change.

But I don't.

Instead, I feel that this campaign is offering a simple feel-good solution to an extremely complicated and deep-rooted conflict. I am afraid that this solution may do more harm than good. I worry that people sitting at home on their computers have a greater say in what the solution should be than those who live in Uganda. I worry that the voices are being wrongly weighted. I worry that this sort of simple feel-good approach will dominate the way in which people participate in social justice.

I feel that this campaign is distracting. Distracting from the real challenges and progress going on in Uganda today. Distracting from other current atrocities whose propaganda machine is not so well oiled.

I feel this campaign is wasteful. From the mass production of propaganda materials which on April 21st will litter the streets of North-America, to the money of Invisible Children's revenue which is spent on its staff's salaries and travel expenses.

I feel. I feel. I feel. This campaign focuses on the way we feel and react to the horrific information presented to us in the film rather than truly trying to empathize with, represent and understand those enduring these horrors in Norther Uganda.

I feel that this campaign repeatedly shows us the face of an adorable five year old american boy and gives us only one Ugandan voice - a uni-dimensional victim.

I am glad people are being moved by the story of someone born half a world away. But does that story have to be sensationally exaggerated for us to pay attention? Do the facts have to be skewed? Does it have to be packaged with easy solutions? Does it have to come in HD? Does it have to make us feel as though we made a massive difference with nothing but the click of a button? Does it have to offer us a homogenous Africa(is not a country)? Does it have to be in storybook format with bad guys, heros and victims?"

I have no doubt that the people sharing this video, getting excited about social justice and making change have their hearts in the right place. It might be the first time that these people have been made aware of the atrocities going on in the world, and it is great that a dialogue has begun and that people are talking about it...but its not good enough. That's not the pessimist in me speaking, that's the realist. Its simply not enough to share a viral video, put up posters, donate your profile picture, or twitter feed.

Be critical, act with perseverance, realize that easy answers aren't always the best (if they were, we would solve a lot more global issues), be motivated, think outside and whatever you do.....ALWAYS learn two (both, all, as many as you can) sides of the story, it will help you make educated decisions, come up with more complete and holistic suggestions of solutions, act with innovation and think outside of the box.

I don't have the answers. I've made that clear, and I don't claim to have them. What I do have is questions, roughly a million of them, and an unquenchable thirst for knowledge. A hope that I'll be able to live in a place, in a world where people are aware and care about each other in their own countries and across the world. Where we use technology to connect the world and make positive social change rather than find out whose dating who in Hollywood. Where apathy is a thing of the past and where critical thought is not only encouraged but expected.

Two of my cents,
Delaney C.

Well would you look at that!

"I'm a philanthropist."

When I first heard someone say that I was confused. Surely you cant just be a philanthropist....you studied business at school, so you must be a business women, or work on marketing, or or or.....something. But you cant just be a philanthropist. That's something secondary, that comes after what you do....right?

And then, after about five minutes of internal struggle and identity crisis, it made sense...all too much sense. I studied political science but I am by no means a political scientist. I work for a non-profit organization but I'm not a social worker or a program coordinator. I'm no longer a student, in the traditional sense anyways, and what happens if I lose my job...do I become nothing? Why have I, for too long, associated what takes up most of my time (job, school, ect.) as who I am.

I'm a lot of things. And what is at the bottom of all of those things that make up me......the love of humanity. Philanthropy etymologically means "the love of humanity"—love in the sense of caring for, nourishing, developing, or enhancing; humanity in the sense of "what it is to be human," or "human potential."

Silly me, still so many things to learn. Something so simple has radically shifted my mindset, and outlook on not only my present life but how I perceive my future. No matter what career path I venture down, or choices I make, philanthropy, and my love of humanity, my desire to nourish, develop and care for what it is that makes us all human, and our greatest potentials will be right there with me.

The classical view of philanthropy—that the "love of what it is to be human" is the essential nature and purpose of humanity, culture and civilization—is intrinsically philosophical, containing both metaphysics and ethics. It asserts that our nature and purpose in life is educational—to make ourselves more fully humane through self-development, pursuing excellence (arete) of body, mind and spirit. Isn't that kind of the end goal, to seek out self-development, to pursue excellence in however you choose to define it and to continue to love humans with all of their strengths and weaknesses.

Simply put, people are amazing. I feel like a broken record but people never cease to amaze me. Their amazing qualities and not so great ones. People are such complex and interesting beings, that I love to interact with anyone and everyone. Looking for new perspectives, insights, and other people's life stories of things I'll never be able to experience because I've been given just one. Isn't that what makes us so special? That we are given only one life to live but allowed to experience snipets of someone else's if they are so generous to let us. That's what keeps me going, gets me excited and keeps me inspired.

Always in awe,
Delaney C.

What a wonderful life

Last year at this time I was preparing to board a bus to take me first to Tegucigalpa (the capital of Honduras) to meet up with my great friend and co-worker and then board another bus to take us across the country to the department of Santa Rosa where I spent Christmas with her family in a Honduran fashion, traveled to the Mayan ruins in Santa Rosa de Copan and traveled to Utila (one of the bay islands) to celebrate New Years by scuba diving and meeting travelers from across the world, and ending up with my Central American family in El Salvador to cap off the holidays hiking volcanoes and exploring deserted beaches.....I've had a rough life I know.

I'm looking forward to spending time with my family and friends over the holidays, to participating in some of the traditions that I 'missed out on' last year, and to *hopefully* getting some snow, but I am also missing the new traditions that I got to be a part of last year, my friends and family from across the world and realizing that, as corny and lame as it sounds, as long as you have love in your heart and are sharing that with people who are important to you, it doesn't matter what day it is or where you are, every day can be special and filled with the same joy and happiness that is bursting through my chest at any given moment over the last couple of weeks in anticipation for stockings, cranberry sauce, ice hockey, hot chocolate, rosy cheeks, crumpled wrapping papers, onesie pyjamas, wood stoves, church on Christmas eve, Christmas crackers, board games, homemade red wine, gingerbread houses, my ever growing family, and amazing friends both old and new.

It has been crazy to reflect on my 2010/2011 year and all of the places I've been, people I've met, and things I've accomplished. I have grown tremendously as a person, my concept and perspective of the world as I know it has changed at least a thousand time, I've been mentored by some phenomenal people who I admire and respect, and I cant see myself slowing down anytime soon.

I am ecstatic for 2012 to bring a new set of challenges, new opportunities, new growth and new adventures. I've said it once and I'll say it again, I am so blessed to be surrounded by such a group of supportive friends, family and co-workers that allow me to follow my heart (not my nose...fruit loops), constantly develop myself both personally and professionally, and keep challenging myself.

My prediction for 2012....it's going to be a great year.

Who would have thought, if you put roots down and give them a chance, they do in fact start to grow :)

Delaney C

Elated with knowing we were in the right place, at the right time.

That pretty much sums up my life as of late. The stars have alligned, leaving me pleasentrly surprised, and eagerly embracing whatever comes next. The roots that I decided to put down after returning from Bangladesh have indeed been growing and things are falling into place.

Returning to Canada proved to be a challenge (as usual), espeically with so many unknows. I re-read my entry just before returning from Thailand and as a predicted, re-entry has always hit me particularly hard. “I am nervous (once again) to return back to Canada, to a bunch of unknowns and changing relationships with so much baggage--filled with not only souvenirs but unanswerable questions, frustrations, unsharable experiences, memories, and dreams.” (June 18, 2011) I think I can count the number of people I have shared pictures with one one…finger. That’s not necessarily because people don’t want to see them, don’t want to hear stories, but maybe because I’ve grown tired (and frustrated) of trying to explain things, share stories, bring feeling to places, people and issues. Moreover, no matter how hard I try, or how articulate I am the person who has showed genuine interest in ‘sharing’ my experiences can’t, and I’m left feeling more isolated than ever, alientated by my experiences. So I don’t delve too deep when someone asks me excitedly, “Oh, how was your trip?” and have continue to ‘compartmentalize’ the me who exists in Canada, to the me who exists abroad and is interested in development internationally so ease the relationship-shock but it hasn’t necessarily been the most effective method of coping. I think I will always have an issue compartmentalizing and trying to separate but will have to explore other ways of coping.

After a few weeks working for the lawyer, anxious about finding a job, and fearful I would be forced to remain under his reign indeffinitly, I somehow landed a job at Big Brothers Big Sisters, and with that entered the non-profit sector. (Yeeey!) It is a delight to work for such a respected and well known organization that (in my mind at least) is doing such great things for the community and taking an individual and preventative approach matching kids with mentors in a variety of different programs. The job has me constantly learning, keeps me on my toes and ensures not a day goes by where I am not inspired by the people I work with, my co-workers, or humanity as a whole. I am excited for what lays ahead and very appreciative to have this opportunity so young to develop both personally and professionally in such a supportive environment.

Not to turn my back completely on the international aspect, I am one of the co-presidents of Engineers without borders (EWB) at the University of Manitoba, which is proving to be more of a challange than anticipated, although a welcome one. EWB is a fantastic organization that does some great grassroots work both through advocacy and education in Canada and by working with governments and non-government organizations in Zambia, Ghana, Malawi, and Burkina Faso. It's my hope (and personal goal) that at the end of my 'term' the EWB UofM chapter will have a good foundation and starting point to jump off from and do some great things at the UofM and in Winnipeg as a greater community. Cross your fingers for me.

I've also been exploring the possibility of taking some courses with Mediation Manitoba as a way of continuing to develop my personal/professional strengths, besides the point that I find it fascinating and really enjoy doing it. I'm excited to continue to explore the possibilities, perhaps work on some side projects, and develop some skills that I'll be able to transfer to any situation I am faced with (in a working environment or otherwise) and see where that takes me.

Volcano by Damien Rice

Don't hold yourself like that
You'll hurt your knees
I kissed your mouth and back
But that's all I need
Don't build your world around volcanoes melt you down

What I am to you is not real
What I am to you you do not need
What I am to you is not what you mean to me
You give me miles and miles of mountains
And I'll ask for the sea

Don't throw yourself like that
In front of me
I kissed your mouth your back
Is that all you need?
Don't drag my love around volcanoes melt me down

What I am to you is not real
What I am to you you do not need
What I am to you is not what you mean to me
You give me miles and miles of mountains
And I'll ask for what I give to you
Is just what i'm going through
This is nothing new
No no just another phase of finding what I really need
Is what makes me bleed
And like a new disease she's still too young to treat
Volcanoes melt me down
She's still too young
I kissed your mouth
You do not need me

Simple Pleasures of Summer

Fresh picked blueberries, walking barefoot, driving with the windows down, dirty dirty pop music, reading good books cover to cover in the sun, fresh cut grass, sunrise, sunsets, homemade sangria, canoeing, morning runs, laughing so hard your cheeks hurt and sides ache, twist ice cream cones, thunderstorms, tubing down the river, hikes, road trips (no matter how long), adventures, live music, festivals, local talent, naps, hammocks, star gazing, grilled cheese, bonfires, street meat, iced coffee, picnics, staying up all night talking, swimming at night, cranberries, daydreaming, fresh air dried sheets, hot sun on bare skin, sandy beaches, rolling waves, watermelon, cucumber and tomato salad, genuine smiles shared with strangers, family, rocket popsicles, bike rides, discovering hidden treasures, Indian summers, farmers markets, people watching, ferris wheels, surface dives, Moosehead Light Lime, Bulldogs, cedar chests, best friends, having fun doing nothing at all, sun tanning, long walks, late night Catan, new adventures, climbing trees.

Simple Pleasures of Summer.

xox
Delaney C.

Peace Corps Volunteer Challange: Honduras

My friend Eyal from the Peace Corps that I met during my time in Juticalpa, Honduras posted this a couple of weeks ago and I found it quite interesting...interesting enough that I felt it deemed a re-post. What it is is a challenge for those at home to give up specific luxuries of home in order to live more similarly to how the Peace Corps volunteers live in Honduras.

After reading it through the first time my reaction surprised me when I was left thinking, "Man, that seems hard, I'm not sure I could do it." My second thought was "Wait a minute...you did do it!" I tried to pinpoint why it was difficult to even fathom living in a way that I had lived for nearly five months and I think a large part of that is the disconnect between the way I am able to live here in Canada and the way that I was forced to live in Juticalpa ie) no running water (let alone hot water), no flush toilets (no flushing toilet paper), no microwaves, no debit/credit cards, hand washing clothing ect.

It seems much harder to imagine these tasks as part of my life in Canada when I have the choice to take a hot shower and throw my laundry in for a 20min cycle and truth be told I'm not sure that I could make some of these changes a part of my every day life in Canada but it was interesting for me to be reminded to be conscientious of the lifestyle differences and to remember that certain changes (limiting water use, recycling, composting, taking the bus instead of driving, not buying unnecessary items ect) are changes that can be adopted into daily practice and it is important to continue to do them.

One of the points that had me laughing to myself was "You cannot watch television, but may watch soap operas or soccer at a neighbours house" simply because how accurate the statement was and it made me remember how into soap operas my family was. Too funny.

Check out the link below, and if you're up for the challenge try it out and let me know how it goes!!

Good luck :)
Delaney C.

https://docs.google.com/viewer?a=v&pid=explorer&chrome=true&srcid=0B2YDS7Pm6kwENmRkYTQwMzAtYjAxZi00NWUyLWE0NTQtMzA4NDUzMzRhYmI4&hl=en_US&pli=1

Thai Fashion, Fullmoon Party and Bangkok Ping-Pong Shows

I have been back from Thailand for six weeks now and although I am loving spending my time soaking up the sun with wonderful friend on beautiful Manitoban beaches I felt that my two weeks in Thailand deserved a post.

After spending five weeks in Bangladesh with RDRS we said goodbye to Bilan and Lindsay in the Bangkok airport with ferocious hugs and Kaitlan, Lauren and myself headed out into the streets looking to start a two week long adventure. I won't chronicle the full two weeks for you because frankly some things are better left unsaid, and some other things are better left without an electronic paper trail HOWEVER I will offer some tidbits from my Thailandia adventure...because if you don't tell people its like you were never really there at all. Right?

Before I start on Thailand I'm going to indulge in a tangent. In Bangladesh I had the interesting opportunity of traveling sans camera (thanks to my darling little sister who neglected to put my memory card back into my camera before I headed for the airport) and I loved it. As a traveler I have always been conscientious of focusing on where I am and not focusing on capturing 'memories' in order to share them with people back home...I'm a bit more selfish than that. I like to focus my time on where I am, with the people I am with. I rarely buy souvenirs for people back home, I never fill up memory cards with pictures and I try not to talk/think about Canada in a way that it monopolizes my time/thoughts. Because of this mantra so to speak I find it hard to understand when some people seem to travel with the purpose of sharing...when every picture becomes a photo opportunity to share with someone back home, when every little market means another trinket to be purchased for cousins once removed, and every experience is followed by either "Tim would love the jungle trek we did this afternoon!" or "I can't wait to tell Jane about the monkey temple!"

I'm not against sharing experiences with friends and family, I'm not heartless, I miss people and think of them fondly and often when I'm abroad, but I'm very much a 'be in the moment' 'remain in the present', 'right here right now' kind of gal, and no amount of pictures or souvenirs will ever make the place that I was seem as real to you as it was for me (unless you travel there yourself) so I might was well make the most of my physical an geographical location and not try to take you (unsuccessfully) along for the ride...or at least make it a top priority. Travel savvy or travel selfish?

Now, on to Thailand!

In Bangkok Lauren, Kaitlan and myself devised a way for free (and very entertaining) city wide travel. Enter Thai fashion and tuk tuks (motorized rickshaws). Tuk tuk drivers are paid commission to take unsuspecting tourists to gem shops and tailors in hopes of getting the said passengers to spend mucho dinero all while thinking they are getting a steal of a deal and walking away happy (all the while getting ripped off big time). Usually the tourists who fall victim to this little game are trying to get to temples, shopping malls, floating markets, ect. however Lauren, Kaitlan and I tried to capitalize on this routine in order to save a couple Baut (Thai money). By the end Lauren had perfected her story and at some times I even believed we were looking to get a suit made for her dad. We only ran into one awkward encounter when we ended up back at a tailor shop we had been to the day before and we had to quickly change our story and make up some new questions on the fly. Definitely hilarious, although I'm not sure how much money we ended up saving in the end it was a great way to see the city, kill some time and learn a little bit about Thai fashion.

Koh Phangan was put on our Thailandia hit list because of the the elusive Fullmoon party (http://fullmoonparty-thailand.com/) and our perfect planetary timing. We found a hotel on the the other side of the island and for ~$14/night we were given a little slice of paradise. Empty sprawling white sand beaches, gorgeous bungalows, winding roads perfect for renting scooters to explore, turquoise waters, and coolers filled with jumbo Changs (Thai beer). We spent our Koh Phangan portion of Thailandia hanging on the beach, participating in impromptu games of beach volleyball, watching fire dancers, and laughing with new made friends. On the night of the Fullmoon we hopped in a taxi to venture to Haad Rin to partake in 'the' party. Bucket drinks, neon paint, fire dancers, pounding electronic with lots of base, 20,000 people ready to party, street meat, pass out zones and partying till the sun comes up. We caught a taxi back to our hotel with just enough time to shower, pack, and turn right around to catch a ferry back to Bangkok....worth every minute of it.

Our first night in Bangkok we went in search (high and low) of a place worthy enough of starting our adventure and celebrating the end of our five weeks in Bangladesh. We went up and down streets, in and out of bars, intrigued and (mildly) entertained/disturbed by the go-go dancers, glowing signs flashing names like "SuperSex" and "Pussy Palace" and overt in your face prostitution. We were pulled aggressively a club that had ~20 men in briefs with different numbers on their hips dancing, waiting for someone in the audience to want a special dance. We returned to our hostel unscathed and feeling pretty pleased with our first introduction to Thailand. Later we would find out (only after we had already booked beds for when we would return to Bangkok in order to catch our flight back to Canada) that our hostel was located in the middle of the red light district and things would make much more sense.

Everywhere we went that night we were approached by men hollering at us "Ping-Pong Show" and making a popping sound with the lips. We brushed it off but everywhere we went in Thailand this trend continued. Seeing a "Ping-Pong Show" was something you had to do when in Thailand, like climbing a Volcano in El Salvador, or Surfing in Australia...it would be a shame to return home without experiencing one of THE things that Thailand (more specifically Bangkok) is known for...so when we passed through Thailand again, we made a point of putting it on our list.

After hanging out on Koah San Road (one of the most touristy districts) we met up with two other friends and sought out a show. We approached a man who was less pushy than the rest (reluctant to go with the men aggressively hawking Ping-Pong Shows as a result of warnings from travelers who had spent 700 THB and been taken to clubs only to be yanked around, forced to buy drinks and shown nothing) who took us to a bank of tuk tuks. We were transported via tuk tuks to our old stomping ground and taken into one of the dingiest strip clubs I have ever had the pleasure of being in. We paid 300TBH each (~$10) while we overheard some men paying over 900THB meaning that prices are quite flexible and received one free drink with the price of admission.

There were some women walking around handing out drinks taking orders and flirting with patrons while other women gyrated on stage in tune to the music. The show entailed women after women taking their turns on stage to perform her trick and began with a member of the audience assisting a women pull a 20-foot scarf out of her hoo-ha (think of a clown pulling scarves out of his throat) and went on to a talented artist draw her rendition of Mount Everest with a marker clenched in her lady parts while another opened a twist-off glass Coke bottle (perhaps a sponsor) with a little grunt before she hobbled off stage. For the Ping-Pong part of the Ping-Pong Show a women began to fire ping-pong balls with a force not to be reckoned with...I'm talking perfect serves and some men in the front row (who had been given paddles) got some rally's going. The show didn't end there but continued with two of the women having sex on stage while James Blunt crooned "You're Beautiful" in the background. The show went on, but not for me.

The entire event was awful, horrible, and profoundly disturbing and the fact that these shows are so wide spread and sex tourism is so rampant in Thailand as a result of demand is chilling. I left the club feeling as though I had been punched hard and repeatedly in the pit of my stomach over and over again almost unable to process what had went on and why I had been unable to leave earlier. I'm not sure what I had imagined going into the Ping-Pong show, and while I was horrified by what I saw, I'm glad that I saw it because its going to happen regardless although I don't like that my money supported such a horrible industry.

With Love,
Delaney C.

Here are two other links of travelers accounts of the Ping Pong Show:

http://www.adventurouskate.com/adventurous-kate-goes-to-a-bangkok-ping-pong-show/

http://www.asylum.com/2010/03/24/asylum-correspondent-reflects-on-bangkok-thailand-ping-pong-show/

"Laughing makes your heart grow stronger"

**Warning: This post is unusually optimistic.**

If that is true, that laughter makes your heart grow stronger, then my heart is in impeccable shape after spending the last seven weeks surrounded by such amazing and hilarious people. Before heading off on my Bangladeshi adventure I was warned about the heat, the food, the traffic, the poverty ect. but no one mentioned to tell me how funny everyone was or how the effective use of humour can play a huge role in development. One of the masters of the utilization of humour (in my eyes at least) is my good buddy Basudeb, the district project coordinator of Lamonirat for RDRS. When that man steps into a room he fills it with his presence, his hearty laugh, and his eyes that brim with happiness. He's charismatic and knows how to work a crowd, and even though he spends most of his time in his office doing paper work and managing staff he is completely comfortable in the field, not talking down to program participants but getting onto their level and speaking their terms and also relaying that back to us with a component of realism and honesty that is sometimes overlooked. His office is always full of staff who clearly enjoy his company as much as I do, and he is always offering anecdotes, advice, praise, and a good cup of tea.

Although I am becoming more and more sure that international development is not the end all be all for me (something I plan on exploring in the upcoming year) Basudeb will remain a role model for me in whatever future carer aspirations I choose to follow.

I've learned a lot over the last few weeks and not all of it is related to Bangladesh, development, RDRS, ect. Although a lot of it is, I have also learned a lot about who I am, and who I want to keep being. My optimism has become a very useful tool, and even though I have always know that I can be happy in any situation the importance of attitude has become even more clear. For me, it becomes a choice. Its possible to be happy in any situation, and its also possible to be miserable (or somewhere in between)in any environment, in any crowd. Call me lazy, but it takes way too much energy to be miserable and if I'm only on this wonderful world for a limited time I want to love as many of those minutes as possible and take in as much of its beauty as possible.

Along with my borderline obnoxious positivity is my ability to learn something new in every situation even if seen the same scene a hundred times. To be able to continue learning even if I've had the same conversation, visited the same school, read the same paper. Learning never has to stop, and I don't ever want it to. Right now I am in no way ready to head back to school for a 'formal' or institutionalized education, but that doesn't mean I am going to stop learning, in fact I think I may learn more. From my friends, from strangers on the street, from the world wide web, from all the books I read, and from the world...because that's what its there for...right? To explore, to grow, to change, and to keep you just confused enough to keep on keeping on.

I leave Thailand tomorrow after spending two amazing weeks traveling in the Southern part of the country with Lauren and Kaitlan, and although those two weeks have flown by Bangladesh feels forever ago, and Winnipeg even further. I am nervous (once again) to return back to Canada, to a bunch of unknowns and changing relationships with so much baggage--filled with not only souvenirs but unanswerable questions, frustrations, unsharable experiences, memories, and dreams.

I forsee culture shock, which by now I know hits me pretty hard, but I am also very excited for the whole list of 'new' things and 'first times' that await me. A new apartment, a new job,new relationships, my first time at folk fest, my first semester completely detached from University (well mostly) and for a whole list of things that make me happy even though I've done them a million times before, like camping, road trips, dim sum, slurpees from 7-11 the beach, spending time with my friends and my ever wonderful family AND a challenge to myself for the upcoming year...Spending September 2011-September 2012 (one full year, yes one ENTIRE year)in Winnipeg without leaving for an extended period of time. Something I haven't done in the last five years, since graduating high school. Why does the idea of staying put for twelve months scare me more than taking off across the world all alone...

Because sometimes if you put roots down, they grow,
Delaney C.

Lets talk about sex baybee

We spent 2 days at the Drop in Center for Sex Trade workers in Saidpur last week and learned about RDRS's programs related to HIV/Aids prevention and reproductive health. The social stigma against sex trade workers makes it difficult for the women (and their children) to be a part of society. Their children are often teased (even by their teachers) and forced to drop out of school, and many of the women suffer similar problems when trying to get out of the sex trade making for a very difficult (if not impossible) transition.

Although in 2010 the rates of HIV/Aids in Bangladesh is only 0.01% (although I speculate that number is significantly higher and kept low due to the number of unreported cases due to lack of access to testing centers and the social stigma surrounding HIV/Aids), RDRS takes a very preventative role and provides education and training sessions both for the Sex Trade Workers (on the importance of using protection, how HIV/Aids is transmitted, how to be assertive and request a condom, signs and symptoms of STIs ect.) as well as for high risk groups (rickshaw pullers, transient business men ect.) teaching all that good stuff as well as teaching them to respect the sex trade workers line of work.

Using workshops, films, education, and training sessions RDRS has taken a very proactive and preventative (opposed to reactive) stance towards the issue of HIV/Aids in Bangladesh and is one of the aspects about many of RDRS's programs that really like. I am a huge fan of dealing with issues before they become problems, providing education before we need to apply treatment, and talking about issues before they become taboo.

Sex. Its happening everywhere, and there are no signs of it going out of style...so why are we so afraid to talk about it talk about it? Canada is not to be let off the hook by any means, and our sexual education in schools is weak at best. Sex is going to happen whether we talk about it or not, but education can try to ensure that its aa safe, protected, and informed decision. Scare tactics might work when we are heading to the polls to elect politicians, but its never stopped anyone from hooking up.

Very fittingly after our visits at the Drop in Center we visited the Maternity Health Clinic in Lamonirat...because after sex comes babies. The clinic is open 24 hrs a day and education is provided to women as they wait for their antenatal checkups. Its difficult to convince women to come to the clinic for childbirth as a safer alternative to home deliveries due to traditional practices and superstitions and 48/1000 babies die during childbirth. I'm a long way away from having any children (don't get too worried Mom) but I can't imagine that something so natural can have such a fatal end result that can be prevented by access to health care. We have a long way to go if we are going to achieve Child Health/Maternal Health by 2015.

While I don't disagree with any of the Millennium Development Goals ( End poverty and Hunger, Universal Education, Gender Equity, Child Health, Maternal Health, Combat HIV/Aids, Environmental Sustainability, and Global Partnership) I have always been unsettled by the way in which they were proposed. Alone each of the goals is daunting although admirable but without putting plans in place and instead leaving it to the discretion of individual countries to do as they see fit and remaining very vague does not seem feasible. I was able to talk to Basudeb (the district program coordinator in Lamonirat and ask his opinions of the MDG's and he seemed to be as skeptical as I that some sort of miracle will descend from the heavens prior to 2015 solving the worlds problems, bringing equality to all, and making the world a generally wonderful place to be. I wonder if Unicorns will make a reappearance? My fingers are crossed.

Just something for you to think about that I stumbled upon while reading an article in the paper today. In the month of May:

-29 women lost their lives for dowry.
-6 became subject of repression.
-21 female children were raped while 11 women were raped.
->of the 21 disgraced children 4 girls were gang raped and 3 were killed about molestation.
-10 women suffered acid injury.

Never stop learning,
Delaney C.

My Bedeshi Birthday

One of the perks of an international birthday….It goes on FOREVER. Every year my Birthday seems to exceed my expectations and this year was no exception. I’m not sure how many Canadians from rural Manitoba can say that they turned twenty-three in Bangladesh but if there is a club out there I totally want to be one of the members.

I woke up (after having a ‘midnight’ Kit-Kat pre-birthday party celebration with the girls) to the manager of the guest house in Kurigram (where we were staying) bringing me a huge bouquet of roses sent from Aslam (the manager at the guest house in Rangpur). We enjoyed our breakfast of tea, toast with homemade nutella, eggs, and fresh fruit and then Jaqel (our amazing driver for the last two weeks) present me with a bouquet of fresh hand picked flowers and a birthday wish.

We headed to a group meeting which is a program facilitated by RDRS for the most vulnerable members of the community. The program is 24 month period in which group members decide the topics of the week (ex. Dowry, early marriage, and divorce ect.) participate in IGAs (goat rearing, micro-enterprise ect.) and create a network of support for each other. This group was a group of twenty-six women who are categorized as the ultra-poor and were all divorced or widows and of only one had completed primary education.

We headed back to Rangpur where I was greeted by MORE flowers and a cute little vase courtesy of Aslam. After lunch Aslam took us to the market to by fabric for our sari blouses and petticoats after fifteen minutes of hinting that it would be better if he came with us because he could get us a better deal…gotta love indirect communication. I love going to the market. I love the chaos and the confusion. The constant honking and the dusty heat. I love almost getting hit while you weave in and out of people, tuk-tuks, rickshaws, and animals. I love the bright colours and flowing scarves trailing from women’s necks. I love the street vendors selling food of names I can’t even imagine pronouncing, the bazaars selling golden bangles, plastic purses, and yards of fabric. I love how if you stop moving, and stand still for even a second you will be washed away by activity and excitement and become only an obstacle for other people who remain a part of the machine.

We returned to the guest house to MORE flowers and a special dinner of duck prepared with apples (which might be the best duck I have ever had, and one of the most amazing meals I have had here) and Aslam had baked me an upside down pineapple cake….delicious.

The generosity and hospitality of the Bangladeshi people is overwhelming and I’m not sure that I deserve this sort of treatment from my new friends—even if it is my birthday and I am once again shocked by how much love I receive from every part of the world…I am a very very lucky girl.

With lots of light,
Delaney C.

Can I ask you a question? How many lives do you live….because I think you only live once.

Kurigram is one of the most vulnerable and economically disadvantaged districts in Bangladesh due to lack of job opportunities and being an area prone to natural disaster. After arriving in Kurigram, meeting the staff, and receiving background information on some of the programs we would be visiting we had tea, and an impromptu philosophy session with one of the staff we have affectingly nicknamed ‘Dr. Love’. He began our session by saying that “there are many important things in life, but love is the most important.” What a smart man.

A couple of days later during a discussion about the meaning of feeling we were offered Betle Nut (which I heard as Battle Nut, and was pretty excited about), and I (foolishly I might add) agreed to try for not other reason then, why not…I am in Bangladesh after all. You take the Betle nut, put Lyme on a special leaf, wrap the nut around the leaf, put it in your moth and chomp chomp chomp. A couple of chews in Dr. Love informs me that “The first time I tried this I vomited.” To which I thought, “Boy am I in for a ride.” It was about this time that my tongue and lips started to go numb and my brain began to get fuzzy coupled by a nice head rush. Aslam explained that Betel nut is a stimulant and a form of tobacco....so like chew essentially...if chew and something much much stronger had a love child. I'll always try something once...why not.

Since my first year of University (when I first applied to participate in this program) I have been fascinated by the Chars (sand bars in the middle of the river that thousands of people live on because plots of land on the mainland are expensive and scarce). Chars people face isolation as they are only accessible by boat and many NGOs refuse to work on the Chars (out of the 20 NGOs working on the mainland in Kurigram, only 4 work on the chars), lack of running water and electricity, access to education, flash flooding, and widespread erosion that forces then to re-located their homes every 1.5-2 years.

Contrary to my love for the city, the markets, the buzz and the dust I discuss in my Birthday post, I love the chars for completely opposite reasons. I love the haunting quietness, the isolation, the boat ride over as the main land gets smaller and smaller. The lack of lights and the sun slips out of sight, and the singing that can be heard from across the sandbar after we’ve tucked into our mosquito nets. I love the simplicity, and the smiles that seem more genuine and I love the quite. I love how it’s slower, how there are just as many people but everything is calm and serene. I love looking out into the river and watching the fisherman’s boats pad slowly up and down the channel in search of fish, and the stares of curiosity. I love riding on motobikes sideways with my colorful scarves billowing behind me and I love how there is more time to interact informally and just spend time in the presence of other human beings.

We visited many programs as part of the Chars Livlihood Program (CLP), several schools, micro-credit groups, and community groups. We had cultural nights where we broke out “Survive” and tried our best to represent Canada well, and we met Mrs. Delaura at a micro-credit meeting, who will remain one of my inspirations and a powerful female role-model (along with Silvia, and my very own mother to name a few of truly inspiring, powerful, and amazing women in my life). She was beautifully dressed in her green sari and stood tall and strong and something about her exuded strength and confidence and to say she was inspiring (and maybe a little intimidating) would not do justice.

Mrs. Delaura grew up on the mainland and moved to the chars to be with her husband because that was where he was raised however he now works in Dhaka in the garment factory and returns to the chars only once or twice and month to visit. She was trained as a health-care professional by Friendship (an NGO that works on the chars) and offers planned parent hood, hygiene education, and education about contraceptives for ~600 tk/month (less than $10 Cdn). She has three children (one of whom lives with her on the chars) who she puts through school and explained to us that during her 26 years living on the chars she has had to move her home 15 times due to river erosion. She invited us to her home that evening where we were able to sit, chat, and ask questions while neighbours and community members pressed closely around us.

Although I wish I had the ability to speak any language simply by wishing it to be so, I don’t find the lack of verbal communication to be as frustrating as one might expect and even if it’s just in my head the moments when you hold a gaze just a second too long and something clicks, as though its transferred between two people, or a hand squeeze, or a brush of your loose hair...those can mean more than the simple physical interaction, and I like to think they do.

One day while the girls tried to rest I attempted to draw the children away from our glassless window and distract them with jump rope, Frisbee and the beach toys that Bilan had brought. We played in puddles with the water toys each child passing the toy around the circle so everyone could get a turn, we jumped rope (even though it was much to short for someone my height to jump with—which ended up with hilarious results) and played Frisbee in huge circles. That’s not what this program is about…playing with kids, skipping rope, laughing and infections smiles. But for me that’s what makes it great, that I have the opportunity to create moments that are special to me, that include what I love to do (interact with people, and just have fun) and share something special.

With Love love love,
Delaney C.

Little Green Hands, Ancient Mango Trees, Culture and Community, Song and Dance.

In Bangladesh there is a huge importance placed on culture, and many of RDRS’s programs have a cultural element teaching the Adebasi (indigenous people) about their culture and at almost every school we attend there is singing and dancing. In Honduras and El Salvador it is also common for students to share their culture with songs, dance, and traditional dance while we timidly respond with an off-key rendition of O’Canada—our national anthem—while discussing whether the ‘Boot Scoot and Boogie’ is Canadian enough to put on display.

What is Canadian food, or music, or dance? What is Canadian culture? When abroad I always have the hardest time explaining what it is that makes me Canadian other than simply being born (and continuing to live) in Canada. Canada is a multicultural country. A mosaic of people and customs from all over the world living within the same geographical location, and that’s part of what makes Canada a wonderful place to live but also very hard to explain when visiting more homogeneous populations. I’ve started to wonder whether Canada (and many Canadians) has an abundance or an absence of culture...

My father was born and raised in Portugal, immigrating to Canada with my Uncle and my Grandparents when he was ~16. My mother is French-Canadian and grew up in Quebec before leaving for College and later University. Regardless of the opportunities to speak both French and Portuguese and have a ‘culture’ so to speak I guess I don’t. I do not have Portuguese dancing to display at cultural events, or the ability to whip up French-Canadian cuisine to bring to pot-lucks and although I know can speak Spanish (from my time in Honduras and hours of practice) and make a mean perogy (does that mean I’m Ukraine now?) I feel like I’m missing out on something, although I’m not sure what that something is. How important is it to be ‘in tune’ with where you came from? My cousins can speak Portuguese, do Portuguese dancing, represent Portugal in Folkerama, and are part of a Portuguese community in Winnipeg and I can’t help but feel a little jealous and as if they have a couple more puzzle pieces kicking around as to who they are and where they have come from.

In Canada our government provides social services and safety nets, but what happens in countries where the government is unable (or chooses not to) provide these programs for its people? In the case of Bangladesh (Honduras, El Salvador, and many other ‘developing’ countries) this support comes from Non-governmental organizations, other countries government assistance, or the communities themselves. In every community we have visited it seems that everyone we meet is involved in at least one (often more) community program—whether it be community policing, federations, micro-enterprise initiatives, community health programs, women’s collectives ect. engagement comes from all over the place in a variety of different forums.

In Canada government programs will support me if I get sick, loose my job, or need extra assistance, but rarely (at least in urban settings) will the community rally around you to provide support in a time of need…disintegration of community? If I want less crime I bring in outside support to enforce stricter rules, if I want a new community center I look outside for funding and for someone to pay to do the labour. There is less of a community and if I get sick, my neigbour may never know….but just because we don’t necessarily need each other to get by doesn’t mean we should hide away in our individual ivory towers, which makes me think….development, but at what cost?

I like the idea of working with the community, within the community on community issues…because who better to understand the issues at hand, the dynamic of the community, and viable solutions than the community members themselves. With the community policing program a huge focus was on mediation rather than on punishment. Rehabilitation and working with people to provide support, new coping mechanisms, information and education, rather than sending people outside of the community, away from their support networks and into an institution of punishment…seems much more healthy to me (for individuals and entire communities). Also, if you know who you are accountable, and everyone within the community knows each other its less likely that you are going to be deviant (are you more likely to steal from a stranger or a friend?).

Another creative initiative (which I’m extra pumped about because I used a similar technique for my big program in Honduras and I like seeing used other places because it makes me feel as though I am on the right track) is the use of song, dance, and theater to engage the community in advocacy issues and provide information to groups that otherwise would not be engaged (women, children, youth, illiterate ect.) This technique has been used in many of the community groups and federations that we have visited…staring with love songs to draw a large crowd and then shifting to folk songs, and skits that deliver messages of important issues facing the communities they are directed to (anything from disaster prevention, eve teasing, dowry, early marriage, and environmental issues to domestic violence and civic engagement). Maybe it’s about time political leaders in Canada came out with rap songs or music videos? Just kidding…kind of.

Have fun when you can, think all the time.
Delaney C.

A Little Bit of This and a Little Bit of That

I'm having a hard time writing this blog, maybe just because I know I have to, and there is a possibility of more people reading it...just a little bit intimidating. But I will try to remain as frank, open, and sincere as possible.

Arriving in Bangladesh has proved to be a very confusing experience. It feels oddly familiar (at least so far) even though I have never been here before. So many things about Bangladesh remind me of Honduras and its hard not to instantly want to compare the two, but it is something I need to make a conscious effort not to do.

We met with a man from the CIDA section of the Canadian High Commission (an Embassy but in a common wealth country) and we had the opportunity to talk to him about his experience working for CIDA, working in development and whatever else our hearts desired. He talked a little bit about the trend to switch from facilitating/funding numerous localized projects to fewer decentralized projects (which I also saw during my experience working with LWF). This ‘focus focus’ approach seems counter intuitive to me…by putting all your resources, funding, time and effort into one or two projects you are also putting a whole lot of faith in the fact that they will be successful and effective, and also putting a lot of faith in the counterparts you enter these projects into with. Would you put all your eggs in one basket???

I knew that finding clothes here would be a challenge, seeing that I am at least a foot if not more taller than the general population so when in Dhaka I didn’t get too frustrated in not finding much that fit. It also helped being warned in advance…and I’m coming to terms with the fact that I stick out EVERYWHERE. Last night after arriving in Rangpur and having a meeting with the RDRS staff, we headed to the market to try and get me hooked up.

The word overwhelming comes to mind. Bilan and I shared a rickshaw and we took off down the street…like literally bolted, passing everyone in our path. I clung to Bilan for dear life and may or may not have let out a small shriek or two when rounding corners. We got to the marked and first when to a shop to get a chawar camise (a specific long top that they wear in Bangladesh with a scarf and “Aladdin” pants) to get my size. They have no change rooms so I was taken to a beauty parlor (where men are not allowed) to try on my top. I went in and after a quick game of charades I explained I was not there to get my nails done or eye brows threaded, but simply try on my shirt and was directed to the corner where I proceeded to take of my shirt and replace it with the chawar camise well everyone stared at me.

Then we went to a shop with fabric to tailor. The men at the shop started pulling out spool (?) after spool, and then pre-made but not finished chawars….what felt like thousands of them. I finally settled on a few and we ran around the corner to the tailor, who spun me around, pushed my arms up and then down taking my measurements with a stern face and then getting angry when one of the half made chawars wouldn’t work because the neck was too small. Everything sounded angry because I could not pick up anything (apparently I don’t speak Bengali…who knew), and I was pretty much confused and overwhelmed the entire time, but now I am excited because when I return from Thakurgaon (our first site visit) I will have three awesome, beautiful, handmade outfits waiting for me 

I am excited (even though that hardly seems like the right word) to begin our field visits and start interacting instead of just being a spectacle when we parade around together. I think once we get to Thakurgaon everything will begin to come together for me…Here’s hoping!

12 hrs into the future,
Delaney C.

Bangla Bound!

I'm leaving on a jet plane (again)! At this time tomorrow I will be well on my way (along with the wonderful Bilan Artes, Kaitlan Robertson, Lauren Reeves, and Lindsay Graham)to Bangladesh where we will spend 5-weeks traveling throughout Northern Bangladesh with the non-governmental organization (NGO) RDRS, learning about the different development projects that RDRS facilitates. This program differs from my experience in El Salavador as there is no physical component, and Honduras as I am going as a student mentor/facilitator of an amazing group of girls from the University of Manitoba and will not be 'working' while I'm there. Also Bangladesh is very different than both Honduras and El Salvador and I am looking forward to the opportunity to draw some parallels and make some comparisons.

Once again I am thrilled to have the opportunity to immerse myself in a new culture, travel to a new part of the world and gain new perspectives, and learn more about development and of course myself :)


I am excited to be traveling with such a dynamic and diverse group and I am sure that each one of the girls will bring a unique perspective that I am excited to have the opportunity to have shared with me, and foresee some awesome (and challenging) conversations.

I love being part of a team, I love being around people, but I do think I will have to work (at least a little bit) to switch gears from my last time abroad when I was alone the whole time.

I'm excited to see what lays ahead.
Bring it on!

Delaney C.

PS: If you haven't voted, make sure you vote on Monday!!!!!!!