10 Years Later…

April 9, 2021April 9, 2021 / johnstanlake / 11 Comments

Reflections on a decade of blogging

It has been three whole years since I last posted on this blog. Three years. From a personal point of view I’m really disappointed with myself for neglecting it for so long. There have been times when it dawned on me that I had dedicated a tiny little corner of the internet to documenting my travel and experiences for several years, yet like an old t-shirt, I tossed it into the back of a cupboard, shut the door and forgot about it.

Perhaps I have been a little intimidated as my last post (in March 2018) documented a wonderful trip to the western part of Bangladesh that incorporated the contrasting intensity of the Lalon Festival and the peaceful tranquility of rural Rajshahi. That was a fairly characteristic post of mine as it presented a predominantly image-based dedication to the charm of a land I have called home for a number of years in the past decade.

Typically I enjoy blogging most about travels and adventures, yet in the past couple of years these have been limited, and totally curtailed for the past year of course. Thus, for too long now my blog has remained frozen in time, categorized as an activity I used to do, rather than a current interest.

Now seems like an appropriate time however to revisit and reopen those thoughts and experiences I had somewhat diligently recorded for a number of years. Not always regularly, but routinely enough to ensure I would at least have a record of where I had been, who I’d met, what I thought, how I felt and generally what life presented.

As I click submit and share this new post, it is April 9th, 2021. Exactly ten years to the day (April 9th, 2011) I sat at an unfamiliar table in Chittagong, Bangladesh and posted for the very first time on this blog. Ten years ago I had little idea of what life had in store and where the proceeding years would take me. I was beardless and perhaps a little aimless, trying to carve out a path based on a variety of somewhat vague goals and aims. I knew I wanted to teach, and I knew I wanted to do so outside of the UK.

Looking back, I can reflect upon a decade of personal and professional growth, driven primarily by travel and adventure that has opened many doors and allowed me the privilege to experience so much. When I arrived in Chittagong ten years ago, I did so on a short-term, three month contract with a limited vision into the immediate future and little beyond.

Chittagong (and Bangladesh) suited me though, and thus the initial three months turned into a distinctly satisfying six and a half years. Bangladesh became a second home, and from there I was able to explore many other beautiful and unique corners of South Asia.

I have written fairly extensively about my time in Bangladesh on this blog and shared countless images. Some of my favorite moments and experiences have come when armed with a camera and a willingness to explore, and this has led me to all corners of the country. From Cox’s Bazar in the south east to Rangpur in the north west, and Barishal in the south west to Sylhet in the north east. All offering something different, and reasons to return.

Over the years I have documented in words and images a wide range of subjects. From the passion of tea drinking and cricket, to chance encounters with UN peacekeepers, and the discovery of a war grave that revealed a connection between Chittagong and home. I have shared my thoughts on change and my experiences as a teacher, documented national days of significance and endeavored to share the stories of some wonderful people I’ve met along the way.

In particular though, I have frequently felt most comfortable when being able to offer a modest glimpse into the places I have visited through images. Photography evolved into a passionate hobby of mine during 2013, some two years after beginning this blog, and it has undoubtedly become my main motivation for blogging.

I must have clicked thousands of images since 2013, and a select few of my favorites have made it onto this blog. Sometimes I spent a week or so exploring different locations across Bangladesh, other times it was a weekend excursion meandering through the countryside that lay just a short cycle outside of Chittagong city. I can’t tell you how much pleasure this simple activity gave me, but I always strive to ensure my blogs do at least provide some sense of that.

During these past ten years I have also been extremely lucky to have had the opportunity to visit Sri Lanka, Bhutan, India, Nepal, Laos, Thailand, Vietnam, Cambodia, Indonesia, Myanmar and Malaysia.

Between July 2012 and July 2013, I spent a year living and working in Guyana on the north-eastern tip of South America. During those months this blog was dedicated to documenting an episode that once again presented a vast array of fresh encounters. This period in Guyana was definitely a significant learning experience for me personally and professionally and a challenge on many levels. However, I look back and reflect upon it with great fondness now, and with the benefit of a huge amount of hindsight, I believe it may well have been one of the most defining years of my life so far.

I haven’t written about this previously, but in 2019 after leaving Bangladesh, I spent several months teaching in Sulaymaniyah (also known as Slemani, Sulaimani or ‘Suli’ for short) in the Kurdistan region of Iraq. It was a little daunting when I first arrived, but as always things tend to fall into place, and I was soon able to appreciate my surroundings and take time to learn and explore. I’d like to share a few images from my time in Kurdistan and Sulaymaniyah below.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to travel around all that extensively for various reasons, but Kurdistan, and Suli in particular is a beautiful place full of warm and welcoming people. Many hours were spent strolling through the streets of the city, or sat at a small tea stand watching the world go by.

Surrounded by mountains on most sides, Sulaymaniyah presented a diverse climate with freezing temperatures and snow in the winter to a challenging dry heat in the summer. Professional reasons meant I moved on after eight months in Suli, but in that time it was evident that Kurdistan is a fascinating place on many levels, and I am grateful for having the opportunity to experience that.

At present my teaching journey has taken me to Kabul, Afghanistan. I have been there since August 2019, yet a global pandemic has interrupted that for the time being. As you can imagine, Kabul is a whole new type of challenge, but equally another engaging and rewarding experience that allows me to work with some wonderful colleagues and students.

I would love to share some images of my current surroundings and location, but due to security reasons, it is not advisable at this point. However, I can say the view from my apartment looks out onto a stunning mountain range that surrounds Kabul on all sides, and at different times of the year it provides a colourful vibrancy that encases the city below.

Currently, traveling around Afghanistan is prohibited for me personally due to my job, and this is a key reason (or excuse perhaps) for my lack of motivation or inspiration to keep this blog updated. I will share one image though of a sight I pass most days in my place of work that never fails to spark my enthusiasm for my current role.

It feels good to return to this blog and compose a post. I’m hoping that it may inspire me to get back into a regular habit of doing so once again. I’m not sure if anyone is actually reading this post, but it’s okay if not – I’m happy knowing that I have a personal record that I can return to and remind myself of moments that shaped me over the years. If you have happened to stumble upon this blog and this post, thanks for stopping by.

Perhaps in ten years I will still be posting on here. I’d like to think I will be. It will hopefully mean that I have had ten further years of travel, exploration and adventure. Met more people, clicked more photos and lived life.

21/2

February 24, 2018February 26, 2018 / johnstanlake / 6 Comments

International Mother Language Day

In 1999 UNESCO officially declared that International Mother Language Day will be marked on 21st February each year. I have to admit, prior to coming to Bangladesh I was totally unaware of this, but the origins of the annual observance lie very firmly and significantly in the history of this country.

For some, the day perhaps offers an opportunity to celebrate cultural expression, and acknowledge the work of notable writers, poets, playwrights, etc. However, for Bangladeshis this day respectfully marks a period of their history in which lives were sacrificed and foundations put in place for an ultimately successful, but severely painful independence movement.

The partition of India in 1947, resulted in the region of Bengal being split in two with West Bengal remaining part of India and East Bengal becoming a province in the newly created, Pakistan. Some years later East Bengal was renamed East Pakistan.

In 1948 however, the new government of Pakistan, whose administrative center lay in the Urdu speaking, western part of the country (almost 2,000 kilometers from Dhaka in the eastern part of the geographically divided state), declared Urdu the official language of the country to be used in schools and for all official purposes. Forty-four million Bengali speakers in East Bengal now faced the prospect of being denied their basic language rights with the outlawing of their mother tongue.

Prominent Bengali speakers attempted to negotiate this discriminatory language policy, but after four years, and with no sign of a compromise, students and political activists launched protests. This symbolized the beginning of the now famous language movement, and the first protest took place on February 21st, 1952, leading to the loss of life of several students.

Their legacy lives on though, as their actions became the catalyst for a continued, organised campaign, which forced the Pakistan government to relent on its refusal to recognize Bengali as an official language. Those who gave their lives for the cause are referred to as the language martyrs because of their sacrifice in the fight to preserve their mother tongue, and thus each year on 21st February Bangladesh commemorates their memory.

In a poignant show of respect and gratitude for the language martyrs, crowds of people, young and old, fill the streets and march in long lines towards the Shaheed Minars (‘Martyr Monuments’), on which they place flowers.

The language movement became all the more significant for Bangladeshis in the years proceeding 1952, as the population fought to achieve their independence from the West Pakistan government, which (aside from just language) had consistently denied the basic rights of its Bengali speaking people in the east. Having previously suffered years and years of violent and stifling oppression during British rule (prior to 1947), the people of East Bengal were understandably yearning for freedom and the realization of some of the most basic of human rights.

In 1971 the people of East Pakistan declared their autonomy from Pakistan and after a bloody and brutal war (known as the Liberation War), Bangladesh was born. The seeds of this independence movement were sown in 1952 however, with the language martyrs and their actions.

So that is a brief explanation as to why 21st February has been designated globally as International Mother Language Day. In a TED talk by Suzanne Talhouk, she raises the point that the ‘best’ way to kill a nation is to kill its language. The language martyrs knew this, so they were willing to lay down their lives in order to save their language, their culture, and their identity for generations to come. It is somewhat fitting then that their enduring sacrifice is not only marked within Bangladesh, but globally and on an annual basis.

This year I visited the main Shaheed Minar here in Chittagong early in the morning and below are some of the images I captured.

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All images © John Stanlake

চট্টগ্রাম (Chattogram)

October 22, 2017April 9, 2021 / johnstanlake / 4 Comments

A week in Chittagong

It has been another long and inexcusable absence since I last updated this blog, but due to a welcome one week vacation, I finally found time to venture out with my camera and capture some new images that I feel inclined to share.

In a break from other vacations, I decided to remain here in Chittagong and utilize the time to further explore this city and its surrounding area. I did however stick to one vacation tradition and drink an excessive amount of tea! I also slept a lot. Suffice to say it was a pretty enjoyable week.

The title of this post (Chattogram) is the the name of this city in its local Chittagonian dialect (Chatgaya), which differs a little from Bangla and is mainly spoken in the southeast of the country.

Despite being here now for almost 6 years, I still never cease to be enthralled by the sights and sounds around me. I hope you enjoy the following images.

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All images © John Stanlake

Rise of the Tigers

November 20, 2016October 2, 2019 / johnstanlake / 7 Comments

Cricket in Chittagong

My cricket-playing days began ‘properly’ shall we say at the age of 12. This basically means that I ditched the tennis ball and moved up to the real leather cricket ball and in the process soon became acutely aware of why cricketers wear so much padding. If I were to describe my cricket prowess, I would say I’m a moderately fortuitous swing bowler and sporadically stubborn number eleven bat, learning (and unlearning!) all I needed to know about the game in the picturesque English village of Cockington, South Devon. It was during this time as part time scorer, part time bowler, and full time scone eater, that my love of the beautiful game of cricket took root.

Cockington Country Park – Home of Cockington Corinthians Cricket Club

The Devon D Division West (2^nd XI) title winning medal from 1999 that now sits tucked away in a box at home, and a match saving 11 not out with the bat are proud moments in an otherwise unremarkable cricket playing life thus far. Nevertheless, my enthusiasm for the game remains undiminished and my international employment in recent years has led me onto the path of some fairly random cricket encounters, which include cameo appearances for Prague Cricket Club, the National University cricket team in Butare, Rwanda, as well as almost playing against the Suriname national team in Guyana…until rain stopped play.

Here in Bangladesh I spend a great deal of my free time exploring the country armed with a camera, and for the past few weeks I have been photographing (and occasionally joining in!) local cricket matches around the city and surrounding areas. The continued growth and rise of the Bangladesh national team (or ‘The Tigers’ as they are proudly known) has reignited the public’s interest and passion for the game, and recent one day series wins against South Africa, India, and Pakistan is a key reason for this.

No longer viewed as a minor or emerging force on the international cricket stage, Bangladesh now command real respect, and the England team that recently toured here found out exactly why.

The following photos were all captured in and around Chittagong and depict the love of a sport that continues to capture the imagination of many of the 160 million proud Bangladeshis, especially young players who dream of emulating their heroes.

All images: © John Stanlake

A Quiet Place: An Update

July 19, 2016July 19, 2016 / johnstanlake / 3 Comments

A poignant journey from Torquay to Chittagong

In May 2012 I wrote a blog about a quite unexpected and spookily coincidental discovery in a secluded and quiet corner of Chittagong.

I’ve always been quite proud of that blog post as it (in my humble opinion) revealed how despite the apparent vastness of this world we live in, you never quite know when something will happen to remind you that it is in fact not quite as big as we think.

Below is the link to that original blog post, but just to recap very briefly, back in 2012 I took a visit to the Second World War cemetery in Chittagong. Now, here is the eerie part; the very first headstone I looked at and took the time to read the biography of, was Flight Sergeant W.C.Smith, a fallen pilot from Torquay, which, and this is crucial to the story, is my hometown and place of birth.

A Quiet Place

In November 2012 and a couple of months after I wrote about that unique experience, it was published in the Herald Express (a local newspaper) and that was the end of the matter…or so I thought.

A few days ago however, it came to my attention (thanks very much Brian!) that just a little under fours year since the original publication in the newspaper, a letter had emerged on the Herald’s letters page. A letter from one of Sergeant Smith’s relatives and a person who had grown up with him.

Here is that letter in full:

Memories of Flt Sgt Smith

Regarding your article by Mr Stanlake with reference to Flight Sergeant William Smith RAF (Herald Express November 15, 2012), a cutting from this issue was brought to my attention some time ago.

Having just ‘rediscovered’ it, I would like to give Mr Stanlake more information about his visit to the war graves in Chittagong, Bangladesh.

I am Bill’s cousin and knew him and his brothers well when we were growing up – a visit to Torquay from Gloucestershire was always a great event for me.

During the war (1942 to 1943), Bill was stationed in the Cotswolds for part of his training as a pilot in Bomber Command and he would sometimes stay with us on short leave.

We always enjoyed his company – he had a great sense of humour.

It was his fear that, as pilot, he would be responsible for the death of his crew, but on that fatal day he was acting as co-pilot with another plane and crew.

We were told the plane failed to take off with a full load of bombs and crashed into an irrigation ditch at the end of the runway.

Mike, his brother, also went into the RAF – as a fighter pilot – but the war ended while he was still in training.

Unfortunately, it was never possible for any of the family to visit Bill’s grave, so it was very consoling to read of the peacefulness of the cemetery and how well the graves are still tended after all these years.

MRS GLADYS HEAVEN

Wotton-under-Edge, Gloucestershire, UK

It was fascinating for me to read this letter as it obviously filled in a number of blanks about William Smith’s story and how exactly he came to his final resting place in Chittagong.

There were mixed feelings of course when reading it, as it provided a personal and warm reflection on Sergeant Smith and his life before the war, but also the details of his tragic death at such a young age.

I am happy and relieved in many ways to discover this story did make its way to Sergeant Smith’s family though and they can hopefully take some comfort in knowing that his grave is still immaculately tended to and offered the peace and respect it so deserves.

Once again I think the whole experience demonstrates how sometimes it does not matter how far we travel or wander around this world, there is often a connection to home just around the corner.

A Voice For The Voiceless

February 29, 2016March 1, 2016 / johnstanlake / 4 Comments

Animal Welfare in Bangladesh

One of the most frustrating aspects of social media is the simple fact that stories about complete idiots are thrust directly in front of your face on an almost daily basis. Anyone who saw my Facebook page in the past week or so may have noticed one such story.

The news I’m referring to is surprisingly not about Donald Trump, Jeremy Hunt, or Sepp Blatter (although this trio are worthy contenders), but rather revolves around a group of people who epitomise the ignorance and disregard demonstrated so often by the human race to other creatures.

Endangered baby dolphin dies after swimmers pass it around for selfies

A dolphin plucked from the water and passed around like a trophy so that bronzed beachgoers of all ages could pose and take ‘selfies’ with it. Once the selfies were complete, the dolphin had inevitably died. Because you see, what these humans had so crucially forgotten, is that dolphins can’t survive for prolonged periods outside of water, and what those people now have on their cameras, or smart phones, or whatever they were using that day which caused them to lose all sense, is a selfie with a dolphin who died because of them.

It happened in Argentina, but this could be anywhere in the world, and the flagrant disregard for the life they passed around in their hands that day sums up the arrogance and sheer contempt we, humans, demonstrate on a daily basis.

It left me totally exasperated once again, as it seems there is not a week that passes without tales of sheer moronic stupidity claiming yet more animal lives. Whether it is a wealthy dentist shooting an innocent and treasured lion, Russian circuses forcing polar bears to dance, or puppies used for target practice, there is no limit to our cruelty and indifference.

However, despite all of this, there is hope, and I have witnessed a few examples here in Bangladesh.

Obhoyaronno is an animal welfare foundation formed in Dhaka in 2009 and has carried out some fantastic work mainly in the Bangladesh capital to rescue animals and educate the local population about animal welfare issues. The organisation has successfully campaigned to have dog culling in Dhaka cancelled, and they regularly carry out dog vaccination programs in the city. They have a large community now of like-minded people who will alert others about any cases of animal abuse or animals in trouble.

Dog Lovers of Bangladesh is an inspiring facebook page dedicated to, well…dogs of course. The members on that page never fail to amaze me with their dedication to the welfare of dogs here, and there are often emergency posts regarding an injured or distressed dog sighting. It is not uncommon for this to be followed by an immediate and robust response from other members of the group who mobilize and swiftly locate the dog, whilst doing all they can to source the care it needs. Other members often chip in with cash donations, and before you know it, a dog once destined to lie dying next to a busy road, has been scooped up and given the life-saving treatment it so gravely needed. The members of this group are caring, conscientious animal lovers who provide a reminder that all is not lost.

Finally, there is a group somewhat closer to home for which I have the utmost admiration; The Asian University for Women (AUW) Animal Welfare Club. Created just over two years ago, the club has grown steadily and in that time initiated a number of projects aimed at implementing clear strategies for improving the welfare of animals.

Photo credit: Dhrubo (Dhrubo Photography)

In truth due to the modest size of the club and its limited financial capacity, the focus has been on street dogs and cats. However, the lack of funds has been no deterrent to the club members, and driven by their passionate club president and founder, Mandy Mukhuti, they have already played a significant role in making tangible changes in the lives of many animals.

Since its inception in 2013, the club has visited primary schools to educate young children on how to treat animals. They have also initiated a daily feeding program, which entails collecting leftover food and feeding street dogs in the vicinity of the campus. The success of this is highlighted by the fact these dogs now know and recognise the members of the club when they come calling with their plastic container full of food!

Photo credit: Dhrubo (Dhrubo Photoography)

The club has also rescued several cats and dogs and successfully found homes for many of these animals. Finally, this past weekend they arguably reached the peak of their success thus far. Having spent a few months raising necessary funds, they teamed up with local veterinarians and students from other universities and set about successfully vaccinating two hundred dogs across the city in just a single weekend! It’s a remarkable achievement given the constraints they experience and a testament to their passion and commitment to such a worthwhile cause.

Dogs vaccinated under AUW campaign

Photo credit: Dhrubo (Dhrubo Photography)

I’ll leave you with a collection of images taken during my time here in Bangladesh, which show a number of the animal friends I’ve made. This family lived behind our building and the puppies provided hours of fun, yet immense stress! We managed to find homes for most of them, but a couple sadly fell victim to the unforgiving main road that lay just far too close for temptation.

Father & Son

A patient mother

At present I also regularly feed Tommy and Rocky who live on our road, and whilst this is just a very tiny act, I believe that the bewildered, yet intrigued gazes I receive as I sit feeding the dogs do go some way to showing people that these dogs are not angry beasts who should be avoided at all costs, but actually friendly animals who just need a bit of love and a friendly face.

Step by step we can make a difference, no matter how small that may be.

You Set The Scenes

January 31, 2016February 3, 2016 / johnstanlake / 2 Comments

A new project

So I’d like to take the opportunity to use this somewhat older (hmmm, let’s say more ‘mature’) platform of communication to tell you about a new project I’ve started working on.

I say I, but it is in fact ‘we’ – my good friend Rich and I. We know each other from our days in Prague when we both completed the same TEFL course (Teaching English as a Foreign Language) and have remained good friends ever since.

Rich still lives and works in the Czech Republic in a town called Podebrady, and he came up with the idea of creating a Vlog (video log) in which we both contribute regular videos offering a little glimpse into our individual experiences in the Czech Republic and Bangladesh respectively.

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The slight twist is that in doing so, we will set each other various challenges. We will also seek input from our viewers (who will hopefully exist!) and ask for suggestions for challenges they would like to see us complete, hence the name of the vlog – You Set The Scenes. Also, crucially, whoever receives the most thumbs up on youtube for their video wins the challenge.

*The name of the vlog is also a little nod to one of my favourite songs by one of my favourite bands.*

The main aims of this new project are as follows:

For Rich and I to keep in touch!
To hopefully offer viewers a little glimpse into what our lives are like as expats.
To offer a positive look into the culture and environment of both Bangladesh and the Czech Republic.
To motivate Rich and I to explore our locations further and hopefully create a richer personal understanding of our surroundings.
To do things we may not have previously considered, which will no doubt at some points make us appear awkward and uncomfortable…perhaps much to the amusement of our viewers (again, if we have any)!

So that’s it really. I’m sure it will be a challenge at times, but also worthwhile, rewarding and fun. We both love exploring and getting away from the ‘tourist track’ and hope that this new vlog will reflect that.

Check out the trailer…

Our first challenge was to learn and recite a tongue twister in the native language of our countries. So I learned a tongue twister in Bangla, and Rich learned one in Czech. You can see how we got on below.

Rich’s Czech Tongue Twister

and

John’s Bangla Tongue Twister

Please like our facebook page and subscribe to our youtube channel. We are also on Twitter and you can follow us at @YouSetTheScenes.

We hope you enjoy our future videos, and please comment below with any suggestions you would like us to try!

The People You Meet

July 28, 2015April 12, 2021 / johnstanlake / 6 Comments

Travelling – it’s all about the journey. All about the spectacular places you see, the food you eat, the fear and excitement of the unknown and the cultures and customs you experience and are often invited into. You click frantically in a desperate attempt to capture as many memories as possible, and if you’re like me, you try to keep notes and write about the unique, random and sometimes bizarre moments that will no doubt occur at regular points throughout the journey.

***Local Rwandan band***, **Nyanza, Rwanda**

However, during my most recent trip to Rwanda and the DRC (Democratic Republic of Congo) it dawned on me that one of the most important aspects of my travels and time abroad has been the people I’ve met, and crucially, the things I’ve learned from each and every one of these people. I have come to realize this cannot be underestimated or overlooked in regards to its value, relevance and impact.

International travelers inspire. Their sense of adventure and courage in the face of the unknown is at times baffling, but more often than not, totally energizing. They are often brave, curious, open, and unafraid to try new things, unburdened by logistics, and often equipped with a sharp and equally patient sense of humor. Those who travel live for the moment and instead of asking “Why?” the question is usually “Why not?”

Some may remark it is an irresponsible and risky existence, but I would say the outcomes of these risks are moments that will stay etched in the memory for a lifetime. From my personal experiences during my explorations I have encountered all manner of personalities, and this has undoubtedly been paramount to my own personal growth. It has inspired me to do things I had probably never before considered.

I have become more open and confident in meeting new people and more eager to strike up a conversation. My willingness to try new things has known far fewer bounds in recent years, and whilst I try my very best to be as careful and respectful as possible, I think the dive into the unknown is a truly formative experience.

At various points on my recent trip, I interacted and spent time with a group of people who truly emphasized the diversity and collective adventurous spirit of the international worker and traveler.

Firstly I reunited with three good friends who have all carved out their own individually international paths in recent years. Inga (from Norway) volunteered with me in Rwanda in 2010 and since then has gone on to spend an extended period teaching at an international school in Kigali. She has also spent time teaching in refugee camps in Lebanon (predominantly home to Syrian refugees) and is now about to begin a PhD at Oxford University researching education in refugee camps, which will once again take her to camps in East Africa and the Middle East.

Kirsty (from Canada) is a web designer and online entrepreneur currently based in Rwanda and responsible for this great website www.livinginkigali.com. She also travels extensively and a major part of this is dedicated to her work with disaster relief projects. In the past few years she has been to Haiti, Bangladesh, Malawi and most recently, Nepal as a volunteer for an organisation which sends volunteers to assist with work after major disasters (www.hands.org).

Finally Kim (from the US) is also a former fellow volunteer in Rwanda. Since our work together in 2010 she has lived in Bogota, Colombia and Dar es Salam, Tanzania and traveled a great deal during this time. It is safe to say that Kim has experienced some of the very real challenges of life in major international capital cities and has been a constant and reliable source of knowledge and advice during the past few years.

So, as you can imagine, the stories and experiences shared when we all came together were humorous, intriguing, eye-opening, but most importantly they provided a very real insight into a wide variety of life experiences and challenges.

***(L-R) Johnny, me, Inga, Kirsty and Kim***

We all signed up to hike Mount Nyiragongo in DRC and personally I was a little reluctant when the volcano hike was in the planning stages due to cost and risk. Eastern DRC is an area rife with extremely dangerous rebel groups that reside in the dense forests and often unleash brutal and devastating attacks on surrounding towns and villages. It is the reason why there are large numbers of UN peacekeepers based in nearby Goma.

In addition to that Nyiragongo is an active volcano, which last erupted in 2002 leaving the town of Goma covered and destroyed by lava. The people are still rebuilding their homes and lives today. However, with a bit of peer pressure and that adventurous spirit, I was persuaded to sign up for the hike. Why not?!

***Looking into the belly of the volcano*** **at midnight**

***Freezing, but happy at the ridge of the volcano***

Also in our group for the volcano climb was Johnny from Ireland. Now if you want to hear stories about international adventures, Johnny is your man. He is currently on an 8 year mission to visit every country in the world. At the time of meeting him he was up to about 145 countries.

How does he fund this you may ask? Well, a few years ago he was in a 9-5 office job which he disliked. So, he set up a travel blog/website and once this gained interest and popularity, it quickly attracted advertisers and he realized this was a liberating and exciting way to earn money.

He recently celebrated breaking the $1 million mark for income generated by his online work. This is one of his websites; http://onestep4ward.com/.

The hike was tough, but chatting with Johnny and hearing his many stories from almost any country you can think of helped pass the time and keep our minds off the sometimes grueling ascent and knee-jerking descent.

At our hotel in Goma before beginning the hike we met Finbarr O’Reilly, an international correspondent and photographer, who was based in Africa when Mount Nyiragongo erupted in January 2002 and arrived on the scene the very next day. He has been visiting and working in the DRC ever since.

He has also spent time working in Afghanistan, Darfur, Niger, Somalia, Libya and many other challenging locations, which have exposed to him to some of the most emotionally challenging scenes you can imagine. This is his photography website http://www.finbarr-oreilly.com/.

We also shared a ride with Finbarr back from Goma to Kigali and in the car with us that day was Paul. Paul’s job is to work in conjunction with the US State Department organizing hip hop workshops around the world. The overarching mission of the project is to promote diplomacy, reconciliation and trauma relief among young people who have been affected by various challenges often due to war and conflict.

It was fascinating hearing about such a program and how it has achieved such positive results in a diverse set of countries to date. Paul has facilitated these all over the world and it was really very cool to hear about such novel and unique methods of providing assistance and support to young people across the world.

So, in the space of just a few short days I was able to speak with, and more importantly, draw inspiration from a fascinating collection of people. Our volcano hike group was truly international and this is what I love.

Of course, this is not solely reflected in this one specific trip. It has been the case everywhere I’ve traveled/lived, and it is one of the reasons the travel bug gets you. You never know for sure who you are going to meet, where they will be from or what their background is.

The one thing you can almost guarantee though is that whoever you cross paths with at that particular time will have a new story to tell, a new place to recommend and an ability to open your eyes to a new perspective that you may not have considered previously. And that I have found is priceless.

46 Cups of Tea

March 29, 2015April 12, 2021 / johnstanlake / 11 Comments

A statistical and image-based reflection on a week in west Bangladesh

After nine straight weeks of teaching, the question was how to fill nine days of vacation. On this occasion I decided to remain in Bangladesh and take the opportunity to explore this country a little further, and having never ventured due west before, that is where I went. The division of Khulna to be precise, which borders India and comprises a number of districts, including Jessore and Khulna.

http://www.lonelyplanet.com/maps/asia/bangladesh/map_of_bangladesh.jpg

Travelling individually has always felt a little daunting to me, so the prospect of spending the duration of the break navigating an unfamiliar area of Bangladesh alone provoked mixed emotions. Nevertheless, I survived, and I’m here to report in.

I’ll spare the mundane play by play account of what happened and instead present an array of telling statistics. Prior to leaving Chittagong I decided I’d take a pad and pen with me on the trip and keep a tally of the inevitable and the unexpected in equal measure.

So, here it is, the story of my week in Jessore and Khulna in numbers, beginning with the most important and reflective of all…

Cups of tea consumed – 46

Cups of tea I paid for – 20

Cups of tea bought for me by ever hospitable locals – 26

Invites to homes – 10

Invites accepted – 4

Photos taken – 659 (see a select set here – Jessore & Khulna)

***Rice paddies near the India border, Benapol.***

Modes of transport used during the trip – 6

Times my unmarried status evoked confused frowns – 37

Times it was suggested I marry in Bangladesh – 21

Business cards received – 4

Business cards distributed – 27

Occasions in which I was asked if I came from Japan – 3

Jibes received regarding England’s woeful Cricket World Cup campaign – 24

Times I was asked to reveal my salary – 12

15th century mosques visited – 6

Hindu temples visited – 7

Here is a list of events which occurred just once, but I deemed worthy enough to scribble down in my notepad…

Requested to convert to Islam for marriage purposes
Military border parades witnessed

***Daily flag lowering ceremony, Benapole border***

Squeezed into a body-hugging Bangladesh cricket shirt and told, “It fits perfectly boss!”
Asked if Iranian
Told to cancel my hotel booking and sleep in the home of a man I had met just 30 minutes previously
After briefly chatting with a man I met earlier in the day, he then text to inform me he was knocking on my hotel room door and requested I open said door…
‘Adventure Parks’ visited that made me want to scream “WHY??!!” at the person who recommended it and assured me it was “very beautiful…”

Told I was lying about my age as I couldn’t possibly be as young as I was claiming
Told a man he was the least friendliest person I had ever met in Bangladesh after he spent a good five minutes ridiculing my intelligence for not carrying my passport and stating that as the British were “Kings” I am practically a disgrace to the great nation of Britain

And finally, a list of occurrences that initially I had firm intentions of meticulously tracking. Yet, as the hours and days passed, I soon realized it would be impossible to keep an accurate record due to the sheer volume. So, in the end they became uncountable, but no less significant…

Asked the question, “Your country?”
Confused questions with suspicious facial expressions regarding my reason for being in Jessore/Khulna/Bangladesh
Enthusiastically praised for my comprehensive Bangla language proficiency

Robustly chastised for my low level of Bangla language proficiency
Pondered the meaning of life
Wondered if rural Bangladesh is the most beautiful place on earth

Wondered why my bus driver was trying to overtake three other buses up ahead
Wondered how that 93^rd passenger was going to find a space to squeeze into on the already cramped bus, but soon realizing there was space for passengers 94, 95 and 96.

So that concludes a brief look at my week in the west. It was fascinating, eye-opening, and at times a little testing. However, it was completely worth it, and evidence once again of why I often question why more tourists don’t come and explore this golden land.

Selfishly I’m glad they don’t though, because there were times on the trip as I sat on the back of a wagon and we meandered our way down a silent, tree-lined country road in the early evening, just as the sun began to set, that I thought to myself, “I’m totally at peace right now.”

Baro

February 28, 2015April 12, 2021 / johnstanlake / 10 Comments

“Does it bother you that I talk so much?”

Tucked inconspicuously away from the noise and chaos of one of Chittagong’s longest and busiest main roads you’ll find a small tea shop. Not particularly unique in appearance, it is sandwiched on either side by two further tea shops, and all three function identically, serving very similar items to a wide variety of people who happen to sit down that day.

It’s easy to miss the turning into the road these shops are situated on, and most people will pass straight by. My chance encounter came about in a characteristically haphazard manner. I was stranded at the back of a huge line of people all waiting to gain entry into the Indian High Commission.

As I stood there exchanging frustrated head nods and tuts with fellow embassy hopefuls, I pondered if it were more logical to continue standing in this line, or whether I should try my luck at camouflaging up and attempt a covert border crossing through the mangrove forests of the Sundarbans.

All was not lost though and help was at hand in the form of a cup of tea and a citizen from the very country I was trying hard to get a visa for. Sharmistha, my friend, colleague, and fellow tea enthusiast had learned of my queue predicament and very kindly arrived to offer moral support/language translation skills.

She also went off in search of tea and came back telling the tale of the shop this blog centres around. However, it is much less to do with the actual shop, but rather the person who serves the tea and runs the establishment. Her name is Asma, and she is just twelve years old (“baro” in Bangla).

After eventually entering the High Commission, both Sharmistha and I returned to Asma’s shop for another cup of tea, but also because we wanted to learn more about this tenacious 12 year old. She informed us the shop is her father’s, but as he works as a security guard in a neighboring hospital, Asma has been assigned the crucial duty of ensuring the tea business runs smoothly.

Thus, she sits from morning until evening each day serving tea, paan, bread, and cigarettes to customers, 99% of whom are most probably men. She is twelve remember.

Sharmistha and I have returned to chat with Asma several times now and also with her father and some of the regular patrons of the shop. It is clear they think very highly of Asma, and why wouldn’t they?! She is outgoing, friendly, efficient, and has one of the warmest and most engaging smiles I’ve ever seen.

Asma has inspired me to use this blog in future to highlight some of the characters I regularly meet here in Chittagong. Special thanks must go to Sharmistha, who is responsible for the majority of the translation that was required!

When we first met Asma two months ago, she was not attending school. Her father had promised to send her once he found a suitable arrangement for the tea shop around his work schedule. He had tried employing others to run it in his absence, but claimed he was unable to trust them. It therefore fell upon Asma to keep everything in order.

This was a wise choice. From observing Asma she is highly efficient and able to confidently deal with the pressures of a bustling tea stand. She is also very astute with money. On one occasion we came to pay for our tea and Asma’s father wouldn’t take our money. Typical Bangladesh hospitality once again. We protested and exclaimed that if Asma were here, she would certainly accept our money. He laughed and replied, “Yes, you’re right!”

We returned once again to see Asma yesterday and the great news is she is now attending school. Her classes begin at 6.00am and finish for the day at 11.00am. She returns home, eats lunch, completes her homework, and by 2.00pm she is at the tea stand where she’ll remain until around 8.00pm.

We enquired about school and she told us she enjoys it. Currently in class 4, she finds the lessons interesting, and also playing games, something she has previously had little time to do when whole days were spent at work.

Asma attends school with her friend from next door, and this works well as, “She is a good girl, who doesn’t fight with me and she helps her mother.” The school they attend is divided with classes for girls held in the mornings and the classes for boys held in the afternoon. Asma didn’t seem too concerned by this arrangement and wisely concluded that;

“If boys and girls are put together, there will be trouble!”

Originally from a village in Noakhali district to the north west of Chittagong, Asma’s father decided to move to the city in search of work. She admitted to missing village life and particularly her grandparents and the other children she used to play with. The green, the rice fields and the ponds are also aspects of village life she misses. However, her mother is here with her in Chittagong and this is incredibly important for Asma. She told us;

“I love talking with my mother. If I’m not sleeping when I’m at home, I’m talking to my mother. I love her very much.”

As I mentioned earlier, Asma receives respect and affection from the people who regularly visit the tea stand. Whilst we were there yesterday a local policeman stopped for tea and is clearly fond of her. He referred to Asma as “mamoni” an affectionate term used for younger people. Another younger man was asking Asma about school and encouraged her to go there and “make good friends.”

Some regulars seem to look at me and Sharmistha with puzzled eyes, perhaps wondering why we keep returning to the small tea stand and drinking up to three cups of tea at a time just so that we can learn more about the girl with the infectious smile. Asma asked Sharmistha yesterday, “Does it bother you that I talk so much?!”

No Asma, it really does not.

So that is Asma, a twelve year old girl balancing a life of school and work at such a young age. She does so with a smile and positivity that is truly inspiring. She is also extremely wise. As I left yesterday her advice for me was;

“Stay well, and eat your rice well.”

UNDER ONE SUN

stories and photos from a life of travel

chittagong

10 Years Later…

21/2

চট্টগ্রাম (Chattogram)

Rise of the Tigers

A Quiet Place: An Update

A Voice For The Voiceless

You Set The Scenes

The People You Meet

46 Cups of Tea

Baro

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