meeting in the aisle

Take a walk through a Dhaka slum with MSF

Take a walk through a Dhaka slum with MSF and explore their incredible Urban Survivors site more. This is communications excellence in action.

Emotionally numb?

Last night I was working at a ‘Youth to Youth’ forum talking about international development, my experiences as a volunteer in Bangladesh, and the work CARE Australia does with poor and vulnerable communities around the world. As far as work goes, it’s not a bad gig. I love that it’s part of my day job to meet new people all the time and talk about poverty, women and the opportunity we have to end extreme poverty in our lifetime. It’s a subject I never tire of – or at least I haven’t yet.

But last night I was asked if, after working in international development for a while, and having lived in and travelled through developing countries, whether I have become emotionally numb towards it all.  My first reaction was to say “Absolutely not!” At the time I went on to talk about the incredible experience of seeing development in action, and the transformations that occur when people emerge from extreme poverty as per the ‘script’. If I’m honest, though, I didn’t actually think about the answer really.

Until this morning when I read this article about maternal health in Afghanistan which tells the story of 35 year old Rogul who lost eight babies prematurely, and her ninth baby boy died within 24 hours of being born, though she carried him full term.

And when I read the story of 14 year old Hena who was whipped to death in Bangladesh after being found guilty of having an affair with the man who actually raped her.

Both stories left me horrified today. Cut to the core. Furious. Upset. Frustrated. Impassioned. And definitely not numb.

What a relief. 

[image: what maternal health can look like, Bangladesh 2009] 

Aiding (and abetting)

I have navigated your streets. Dipped
my shoulders and my eyes. Walked
past your outstretched hands and
twisted limbs. Ignored your call to prayer.
 
My fingers have pressed your cheeks, minimising
the amount of you on me. (These lips will
never). I shake off your calls. Your ‘aunty’,
your ‘friend’, I am (anything but). My
 
secret is out, downcast eyes (green/dull/grey)
lie, but not well. I am half hearted, (I have no h…
I am little more than a leech on the forest floor,
No, not the floor, on your thigh. And I suck
 
And I suck but you are still blinded by
the picket-fences I have for teeth, by the
milk I have for skin (mother nowhere to be fou-)
I owe you an apology, it seems.

First published by Bishaud Bangla, 2009

5 Ways to carry a goat - a blogger’s world tour

When I was living in Bangladesh last year, I answered a call out from Fairfax’s Backpacker blogger, Ben Groundwater, who was looking for couches to crash on around the world. So he came, and he crashed, and then he wrote a chapter (Rats, Roaches and Roadkill) about it.

On a personal note, it was strange being on the receiving end of someone else talking about me. As a writer, I’m often the one wielding control of the pen. Yes, there were moments I squirmed, thinking why on earth did I tell a journalist THAT? But kudos to Ben, he did a pretty good job of capturing Chittagong and some of the beauty of the ‘desh along with the bizarre.

So go buy it, support an Aussie writer, and have a laugh at my expense.