Jeni as a Bangladeshi

Somehow being 7867.90 miles away from home actually makes it easier to look at my country and appreciate it for all its beauty. I know, flip through any newspaper or current events magazine, and we’d see that in many ways we’re probably not where we’d ideally like to be. We’re not perfect, and perhaps in some ways we’re pretty far away from it. But the beauty lies in our ability to define what we think means to be perfect, and in the choice to strive towards that definition. The beauty also lies in our ability to understand, to know. For example, I know that being a Chinese American does not mean I am a Chinese living in America, but that I am a type of American. I know that not aligning myself to a religion does not mean I am not a spiritual person, but that I have the freedom to critically think and decide for myself what I want to believe in. I know that freedom of speech, press, and petition, are not just words on paper but powerful, tangible rights of mine that no one can take away from me. From half a world away, these are things that are the most obvious to see.

I remember learning to say the pledge of allegiance in school shortly after I moved to the states. I learned to recite the entire thing without even knowing which syllables belonged together in a word, or what any of the words individually actually meant. But I guess to a child, with a hand over her heart, and her eyes on the red, white, and blue hanging above, it doesn’t have to mean anything more than just that.

You’re still a beautiful grand old flag. Forever in peace may you wave.

 

It’s been my second day out of work, and I’ve been stuck in my room with a fever. Feeling absolutely unproductive, I dragged myself to the local store to pick up some medicine, groceries, and a few "discounted" dvds (by discounted I mean $1 per DVD - you get my point). After sorting through the ones that actually worked on my laptop, I plopped on my bed to watch (of all choices) Reign Over Me, the movie starring Don Cheadle and Adam Sandler based in post 9-11 New York City. The movie itself wasn’t particularly spectacular. But it did strike a chord, as I noticed that I recognized almost every block, street corner, and shop in the movie.  And if not the exact location, I could tell which neighborhood it was, by the people, the buildings, the scene, the mood. the Starbucks on Astor Place. Sushi Lounge with its 50% off delivery menus. the record store on St. marks. the part of Park Ave right above Union Square. Central Park West. With a knot in my throat, I sat through the movie wrapped in my own state of nostalgia.

The thing about New York is that even though it always seems to be portrayed by outsiders as an overwhelmingly large and impersonal city, it is in actuality quite small to the individual inhabitants. The ubiquitous selection of shops and stores everywhere allows people to pick out their own laundromats, bodegas, cafes, falafel/pizza shacks, thereby drawing out boundaries for each one’s ‘neighborhood.’ Aside from commuting to work, or meeting friends on the weekends, people usually like to stick around their own self-defined areas. Which is why I tend to disagree with those who imagine New York as one big metropolis with a homogeneous population of strangers. Each neighborhood, each area, each street, is different from the other and made unique by those who have identified it as part of their ‘neighborhood.’ And this makes the city a personal thing for all of us who have lived there. In many ways, we are actually closer to our neighborhoods because the sheer size of our apartments makes it hard to spend too much time enclosed indoors. So much of our lives actually happen outside - on those street corners, the cafes, the 24-hour diners, the local bars. they’re like an extension of our homes. I think, ultimately, this is why New Yorkers identify so much with the city, and miss it when away from it for too long. People I talk to here comment on how passionate I am when talking about New York, but it certainly helps that many of them are extremely interested in hearing about it (until I mention that I’ve never been up the Empire State Building - gosh, what kind of New Yorker am I??). I can’t help it; I’ve always had a love affair with New York, and having lived there for much of my early twenties, in many ways the city played a significant part in my own growth.

Okay, so the original point of this entry has been lost within all this fever-induced rambling, and I’m no longer sure what I was trying to get at. But what I am quite sure about is that I’m high on Tylenol, I’m a bit miserable being cooped up in this room, and I miss home.

 

 

It’s fun to take pictures in this place because everything is so alive here - raw, uncut, and incredibly colorful. It is also incredibly contradictory - commercial centers and tall buildings stand next to crumbling houses, chauffeured sedans share the road with peddlers (and sometimes herds of goats), families with servants neighbor the homeless on the corner block.

Within the blink of an eye, it’s already been two weeks here in Dhaka. I’ve situated myself here relatively well, although I’ve gotten to recognize that being in a foreign country to visit as a shortterm traveler is vastly different from actually establishing a lifestyle. When the rain is causing the streets to flood, I still had to find a way to get to work. A couple of nights ago, our electricity went out while I was doing some work, and I found myself downstairs where there was light, drawing process flows with a pencil and paper. Today, while washing some lychees, I noticed that they were infested with little worms, and ended up having to chew on some leftover bread while watching the rain.

But the rain eventually stopped. I walked to the market and stocked up on food. Then I went to a small bookstore (that sells various selections of books in English, but more importantly, carries a few copies of each week’s Economist) to read my favorite subscription poke fun of world events with its usual witty and dry British humor. And in the evening, I met up with a friend for dinner - we made plans to take a trip in a few weeks, but still have to finalize on the destination (Nepal: 1-hr flight;  India: 1-hr flight; Thailand: 2-hr flight, etc. - it’s as long as a commute to work!)

So yes, I’m settling in decently well. Even so, here are a few things I am missing:

* consistent broadband internet connection
* clean, paved, *dry* streets
* being able to wear shorts in 100 degree weather
* going up and down Hudson River Parkway on my bike
* a quality cup of espresso
* New York bagels (my god, do I miss those bagels)
* extremely long Sunday mornings at Pan Latin, surrounded by magazines and newspapers I can’t finish reading
* and most importantly, family and friends, who used to be just a domestic phone call away - although, I just installed Skype (screenname jeni.q.yang), let me know if you’re also dork enough to have it

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Note: if you’re interested in seeing more pictures, I’ve been posting them at another site with more storage space that my friend is hosting for me (thanks Navid - I now have no excuse for being lazy with uploading). I’ve ambitiously created folders there to store some pictures from the past couple of… years. For now, please ignore the fact that the majority of them are mostly empty

http://www.leangreeneatingmachine.com 

During these past few days, I began each morning by reviewing my list of pre-departure to-dos. As that list gradually shrinks, it is counterbalanced by a slight but growing sense of anxiety. I think the reality of how my life will be for the next few months is starting to settle in as the final countdown begins. Although, as from past experience, I don’t expect it to fully hit me until I take that first step out of Zia International Airport, Dhaka.

Some of you are already quite aware of my semi-neurotic addiction to task-lists, schedules, and spreadsheets.  Similarly, for this trip I’ve created a rather extensive checklist and found it to be quite helpful during my preparation. While some are the usual dos and don’ts, others are great suggestions from travel-guru friends. Let me know if you’d like me to send you a copy, as some of you may be preparing for similar trips.

So, in between doing research on my project, finalizing logistics, and nursing a low-grade form of Hep-A, B, or Typhoid (your pick), I am grateful for having great friends to help keep everything sane. Thanks for the send-off dinners, gifts, calls, and extra-strong celebratory shots. Oh yes, and thanks for serenading me with that pleasantly off-key rendition of KC & the Sunshine Band’s Please Don’t Go at the karaoke bar.

Friends and colleagues have also helped me connect with others who have either lived in BD, or are currently there. I’ve been prepped on the local customs, cultural differences, summer monsoons, transportation options, and most importantly - locations of great food. I’m pretty sure that by now I’ve accumulated enough useful information to take on Lonely Planet. Any day. 

Next week, I’m looking forward to a 2-day ADP Pre-Departure Training course with several other ADP folks before I head out on my flight Wednesday morning. But for now, I’m contently sipping on what may be one of my last cups of Starbucks Americanos for a long while. Oh Starbucks, your stocks are breaking my heart.

As I officially begin this blog, I’m celebrating this historical moment with a plate of kung pao chicken and an episode of South Park. I don’t watch South Park. I also don’t eat meat. This may seem a bit off, but sitting here in my parents’ basement in suburban Maryland, with all my belongings from the past three years of living in New York City neatly packaged in boxes around me, nothing else really strikes me as all that odd.

No, I did not find myself out of a job and moving into my parents’ basement. Actually, quite the opposite. In a week, I will be embarking on an exciting project opportunity, offered by one of my company’s key corporate citizenship initiatives - Accenture Development Partnerships (ADP). In a nutshell, ADP uses a profit-neutral model to offer consulting expertise to nonprofit organizations in developing countries. Although only a few years old, ADP has gained quite a bit of recognition and press for its innovative operating strategy, broad reach, and successful project delivery.

I heard about the program years ago, and applied immediately after I’ve met all the qualifications. And now, after a couple weeks of applications, assessments, and scheduling limbo, I was fortunate to land myself a great project - I will be spending 6 months in Bangladesh, working with the GSM Association to design and launch a Skills Development Center to provide industry-relevant training programs for the entering workforce.

Of course, staying true to the nature of most great opportunities, this one came rather suddenly, and with an expectation that I’d begin within two weeks. So unsurprisingly, the past few days have been a crazy blur of last minute appointments, travel visas, vaccinations, and the biggest headache to all New Yorkers - breaking out of my lease and moving out of the apartment. Thank goodness for an extremely understanding roommate, for supportive family and friends, and of course, for craigslist. 

And now that the pain’s over and the fun’s about to start, I’m doing some last minute preparations. Namely, I am:

1. starting a blog to share with friends and family members on what I anticipate will be an incredible experience.

2. watching an episode of South Park on TV, because no matter how much I’ve rolled my eyes when friends make me watch this show,  I do admit that it is mildly entertaining, and there is a chance I might miss it.

3. training my stomach to eat meat. I can only pack so many bottles of Imodium before airport security will begin giving me queer looks.

Anyway, I will do my best to write often. Seeing that Bangladesh is relatively weak in tourism and sparse in international coverage, I’d like to use this as a venue to share what I learn of its people and culture. Feel free to contact me with any questions, comments, and/or requests.

Until next time!

(ps - I’ve eaten all pieces of celery, peanuts, and carrots surrounding the chicken pieces. #3  may have to wait until tomorrow. One can only be so ambitious in a day!)

It’s easy to take for granted that which is right in front of us. People. Places. Things. Places, especially. As I box together and tape shut traces of my last three years here, I think about all that makes this city special. Humid subway stations in the summer. Freezing winter winds at every intersection. Blaring sirens and angry confrontations. Eight million people searching for beauty, for significance, and for a connection that at times may turn into $15 martinis on Saturday nights and headaches on Sunday mornings. And yet, we get back up, grab Sunday brunch with all-you-can-drink mimosas, and begin again with that same vigor. And that energy permeates through to everything that comes our way. Through the blackout, the mass-transit strike, and countless others. We learn to deal. And while we deal, we learn to make things extraordinary.

At the end of the day what makes the most lasting of impressions is not the good or the bad; it’s the intensity. They say New Yorkers are intense. Well, we have a right to be.

Goodbye, New York. I’ll see you in a blink.