1/17/15

“Hi From Bangladesh...2015." ...#2



Things were interesting today. In Bangladesh, right now as I type this, it is 4:55 pm on January 5th. I have been wondering if I should share this story, because I do not want to send you into hyperspace with worry about me. I am home safe and sound with no scratches or bruises.
I am telling you because I have never experienced anything like this before. At 11am we were scheduled to go to a village called Faridganj which is about three miles away in a three wheeled vehicle called a CNG. They have a small market place there with furniture makers, and we wanted to go to see what they have. Three of our nephews were coming with us.
There has been news of some sort of unrest between the government party in power and the opposition party in Dhaka and that there would be some fighting. We are not in Dhaka and even if we were there we would just not go out on a day we this kind of thing is going on.
So this morning we set off to Faridganj and I am all excited to be able to get some things we need like battery lanterns for when the electricity goes off, clocks for our bedroom and the living room, a couple wastebaskets,  and some other things that we take for granted that we do  not have here. Oops…no fridge or microwave either, but they cannot be bought in Faridganj because it is too small a place…could be compared to some small village with a few stores in the foot hills.
Don’t get me wrong…we have a lot here. All three bedrooms have beds and bed coverings, there are dish sets and tea cups  and pots and pans and tons of food.
(The electricity just went out…grrrr…and I am typing by someone else’s lantern)
Back to my story. So we are on our way and there are people saying that it might not be safe to go to Faridganj. I am saying that I have heard many times that something might happen and nothing has. So we continue on. The CNG driver refused to drive his vehicle into the village so we got out and started walking the short distance. There is more talk of problems, but I point out that the street ahead of us is clear and peaceful. 
Then from a side street I heard shouting and yelling and saw things being thrown into the main road. We were in front of a shop and the shop worker yelled at us to come in quickly. We did and they lowered two of the metal doors that come down like garage doors and left the third one open. We could hear the shouting still in the streets about a half block away. All of a sudden the noise increased and the third door went down closing us in.
There were police in the fray chasing the demonstrators and trying to herd them out of town. Suddenly I heard a bang, bang, bang, and I could hear feet running and lots of shouts.  It smelled like the caps I used to play with when I was a child. However, the smell was not from caps…it was from tear gas. My eyes started to run water and burn even though we were inside. I took my shawl and covered my face to protect my eyes, and by that time my lungs had some issues as well. It was very uncomfortable and quite a new experience for me and for Mustafa.
The protesters were dispersed, and the owner of the shop told us that it was safe to go out. So we went out and walked out of the village to look for another CNG to drive us home. As we walked someone said that the police were behind us. I looked and they were back a way…not right up to us. I also saw that they were wearing helmets. I turned around and did not look back again. For the first time I felt a bit scared. I was thinking about how innocent people get caught in the cross fire. Finally the seriousness was evident to me.
I started o pray. Please God do not let me die here in Bangladesh. Keep my family members with me safe as well, and also put your protection on all the people who are involved in this fray that none may die. We kept on walking. All of a sudden, the owner of the shop where we were came to the road side at the entrance of his house. He invited us to come to his house while we waited for the CNG. We did, and his house was quite nice. In comparison to other village houses it was really something actually. Lots of furniture and doodads on the walls and tables.
We sat there for about forty-five minutes, and then this young man invited us to come into the dining room. There were plates for each of us that had some kind of curry made with something called “cocola noodles” and fried veggies…kind of like the dried noodles that we get in little boxes with a broth and are boiled. They had also made some French toast. It was an odd combo but very appreciated and tasty.
Then the CNG came and we left our host with thanks.
On the way home I was thinking how God was all over it. He got us to that shop where we could be safe while there was danger all around.  And if that was not enough He also saw to it that we had a safe house to wait until we could get home.  God is good. At the end of the day I could see how good He is.
One more thing…I have a cool souvenir from this experience. The shop owner was showing everyone a casing from a rubber bullet that he picked up from the street earlier. What you have to understand is that a lot of the time I am not totally aware of what is going on. I thought one of the nephews had found it. I just looked up and saw the casing and asked for it. He gave it to me. Not a big deal to him but a very big one to me.
The lights just came back on.
Now there is another problem. All the family who came with us from Dhaka wanted to go back to Dhaka today, but there are travelling issues. It is not clear that they will be able to go. There are about seven children here and school started for them today. The sooner they can go to school the better. I will wait to see what God does for them.

End of Part 2

This is the young boy who died.
He is in his mother's arms. 
Mother and grandmother are taking him home.




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