I saw my first rat today. Don’t worry it was not in our house. Actually, it was almost a pleasant experience. I know, that sounds crazy. Have you ever read the children’s book Desperoux? One of the main characters is a rat. Therefore, rats sometimes don’t seem quite as disgusting to me as they should, if they keep a safe distance. It also helps that this rat was scampering along a trickle of water in a ditch. At that moment, the sun was shining, I just finished a fantastic day of school, and the rat seamed to share my enthusiasm for the day.
The cockroaches are a different story. They appear to have made an announcement to the cockroach community that our house is a delightful place to live. I have killed around five already this week. It is not uncommon at all to hear Meagan shriek, followed by a loud thud, as she smashes her fair share too. Cockroaches I can handle, but praise God they are not wolf spiders. Seriously, the name itself sends shudders down my spine.
Walking home from school is always an adventure. So far, we have always survived crossing the swarming street. Although, Meagan saw her life flash before her eyes a few days ago when her shoe caught on the meridian and she nearly stumbled into the road against her wishes. However, today’s adventure involved our precious little friends who always greet us on the streets. There are several groups of children who cling to us as best friends. We saw three separate groups on the way home today. As soon as they see us their faces beam with smiles that stretch from ear to ear. They sprint toward us and leap to give us running hugs. Their little voices joyfully proclaim, “bondu! bondu!” which means, “friend! friend!”.
The first group consisted of three children. Only one boy decided to follow us as we walked. His shirtless chest was a beautiful brown speckled with mud. We have had serious rain the past few days and mud abounds. This little boy walked with us for nearly five minutes. He looked to be about eight years old, but he told me he was four. Somehow, there must have been a language miscommunication between us! Just as suddenly as he appeared, he rushed away, as if he reached the end of his territorial line.
The next little group was made up of only two boys. They were standing on the side of the road just before our next crossing. I motioned to Meagan to prepare for some lovin’ because as soon as the boys saw us they would rush over. Just as I drew her attention to the boys, the littlest one, who looked to be about three, tugged his pants down and started doing his business on the side of the road. The older one picked that moment to notice our approaching presence. He urged his little companion to quickly finish his duty because they needed to come see us. Our time with these two little guys was rather short because they didn’t cross the road with us. We exchanged a few friendly greetings, smiles, and questions and then parted ways.
Our final group of friends was the biggest. We were about five minutes from home when we saw this last group of children. There were probably about five children ranging in age from a few months old to around nine years old. They were all squatting on the side of the road looking at the ground. I am not sure what they were doing. One little boy noticed us and quickly started shouting in his loudest voice for all the others to come greet us. The little swarm rushed over and we welcomed them with smiles, hugs, and hand holding. All the children on the street ask us for money. We usually buy them fruit, on special occasions we buy them fruit AND candy. Today we didn’t have money so we told them, “Not today, another day.”
All the little munchkins left except one small boy. He quickly became my favorite. This little guy was probably only six years old. He latched on to my hand and strolled right along side me as if he didn’t have a care in the world. His face was overcome with a beautiful smile and he looked up at me as we walked. I asked him what his name was, how old he was, and how he was doing. He cheerfully answered and asked me the same questions, minus the age, which I think he could care less about. He had a bright yellow button up shirt, but it was not buttoned so it flapped open exposing his cute little tummy. One boy called for him to return, but my little buddy refused to acknowledge the command, so the other boy joined us on the walk. The older boy looked to be about eight and he had a baby on his hip. The eight year old kept asking for a mango, rice, an apple, etc. I smiled and said, “Where will I get them?” We were not by any stores. I said I didn’t have any with me. He just smiled and said, “Another day?” To which I assured him that we would buy him an apple another day.
My little guy ignored the questions and just joyfully walked with me, continuing to hold my hand the whole way. We reached our house and the darwan (guard) opened the door. My little buddy started to walk in with us. He was so cute! I told him I had to go, but I would see him later. The darwan kept saying, “later, later later!” and the boys reluctantly said goodbye. I just love them!
If only you could walk the streets of Chittagong with me! Your feet would be covered in mud this week. The rains caused major flooding yesterday. One of the fathers came to pick up his girls from school and he was wet up past his knees because he had to walk through the flood waters. The adventures continue. Thank you for your prayers for the beautiful people of Bangladesh.
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