A Village of Children

Squatting over a pit-toilet and swatting mosquitoes as the power cuts out and I’m left in complete darkness, I wonder what I’m doing here. I’ve gotten myself into kind of an absurd position where I’m taking on a big project for the world’s largest NGO, my supervisor is the Executive Director (2nd in command) of BRAC and also a social scientist who has extensively studies high yielding rice, and I have absolutely no social science field research experience.

During my final group interview I was surrounded by more than the usual group of men with a few women and children in the background. This was a village of children, at least twenty-five, all sneaking smiles and spreading ripples of whispers, “What is your name?” as I tried to maintain my professional composure. During a pause in the interview I finally turned around and said, deliberately, “Amar nam Marci, tikasay?” (my name is Marci, all right?). “Marci! Marci!” trickled through the throng. I had to stop the interview early because no one could control the tidal wave of energy emitting from the kids, demanding my attention. I got up and was swarmed by giggling children, elementary-level English phrases, echoes of my words with exaggerated gliding vowels (“Oakayyyy!”), and declarations of love. A mother invited me to her house where the children shouted instructions in a mix of English and Bangla, “Boshun! Sit! Pani? Water?” After a few minutes of madness, I said, “Ami jai, sorry” (I have to go, sorry). The children sent me off with a chorus of cheers, clapping, and goodbyes. I jumped onto the back of my motorbike and rode back to the BRAC office, taking in the beauty of the moonlit rice paddies.

From the miserable start to the delightful finish, my trip to the field has enriched my time in Bangladesh and fulfilled my preliminary research goals. Returning to Dhaka has been bittersweet, but it’s nice to be back in my own bed (cockroaches and all), back to my usual rickshaw route, back to my familiar foods and friends. I’ve discovered that while I’ll never be able to do exactly and completely what I set out to do, I can at least steer myself in a positive direction and then go with the flow.

My life in Bangladesh, though constantly changing, has now achieved a serendipitous and ironic rhythm, hitting me at the most unexpected moments with the most wonderful surprises. It is only fair that I must experience the lulls, depressions, and outright miseries before I suddenly find myself going the opposite direction. As any spiritual self-help book will tell you, negative energy attracts more negative energy. Positive energy attracts... a crowd of cheering children!