Things That Make Me Happy

Since the last post was long and depressing, these are current pictures that make me happy.

Cute Children 1

Cute Children 2

Snowflake Marshmallows in Cocoa...Martha Stewart



Purple Moonlit Nights

Troubleshooting to Take Off

Even though sometimes it doesn't feel like it, I am technically here for my Master's practicum. Throughout the entire process of searching for a practicum we were all told to not expect anything, that some practicums turn out badly, etc, etc. So while I was open-minded, I, of course, did have some expectations. Turns out, working abroad here is not meeting a single one of them. Lets take it from the top.

Disclaimer: Everything I am about to say, even if negative, is not a reflection on the organization, the people, the country, etc. it is merely the experience that I am having. Other people are having wonderful times...

The associated study: I approached the study team in September of 2008 to work on this project...and after 8 months of applying for funding, talking the project over with the staff, meeting with people at Hopkins about the project, etc. etc. I had some money and a confirmation from the investigator team that this would be a good experience for me and that there was lots to work on regarding the project because it was new.

The project was supposed to officially start in May, then June. I was asked to come at the beginning of July, but due to commitments in Baltimore, I opted to go in August. Although I did not have IRB approval before I left Baltimore, I was told right before I left that there would be some kinks to work out on the surveillance system and I would be helping with some project management duties. When I got to BG, the project still hadn't started and after being told oh, 4 days, oh 3 more days, oh 2 days...I got frustrated and did some travelling - Sylhet, Nepal, a visit to the fieldsite, etc.

During this time, there wasn't much for me to work on. I had helped with the surveys prior and although I went to the office every day asking to help, I was told I couldn't help with anything.

This taught me three things: 1. Make sure that before you leave, you know exactly what the stipulations of your job will be, when it will start, and what the responsibilities of the host organization will be if that doesn't work out (e.g. will they find other work for you?). 2. Be as candid (but polite!) as possible when discussing problematic issues and what can be done about them so that everyone involved is happy. 3. Don't rely on anyone but yourself.

The main reason I was so frustrated with the project is that every three days, the start date would get pushed back...for two months. And at first, I thought it was actually every three days, but apparently that had been happening since May and I just didn't know. Maybe naively, I thought it would really be in three days and so put off making any plans - e.g. getting a Bengali tutor, finding another project, finding a gym...If I had been more up front with how frustrated I was earlier, they could have been more upfront with me about how little they knew about when they were going to be ready to start - they honestly didn't know because it depended on the construction of their office (something that wasn't necessarily conveyed to me as such). More of my frustration wasn't that I wasn't doing anything, it was that I didn't know when I would be doing something - I was unprepared for all the waiting...And waiting...I didn't have a back-up project, I had wrapped up all my work in Baltimore, my med school apps were in and being processed, etc. etc. And there is only so much your adviser's can do from other countries. If I had known of the delays, even before I left, I could have opted to stay in India and travel or spend time with family and they could have emailed me when they knew a particular day and I would have flown in the next day. Granted, I think the project team was under the naive understanding I was - that it would actually start in three days (I'm not sure how much I believe this, but I think they had convinced themselves of it). Eventually I tried to find other projects, lots of bureaucracy is involved with everything and it didn't work out at the time... All these experiences I can use in the future

Eventually the project started and I would try to help, but again, was told there was nothing I could actively do. Although I was disappointed (this isn't what I had been told prior to coming), I still did learn a lot from just observing and asking questions (e.g. how project's are run, field visits, the fact that you have to check up on everyone about everything, troubleshooting). I still do learn a lot...

My personal project: the first fieldsite visit, I chose an interviewer, who although did not have experience in this type of work, spoke three of the tribal languages, very good Bangla, and moderate English (she had spent some time in Australia). We discussed the stipulations of her job and what she would do and etc. etc. And then she came to Dhaka to get trained (in Bangla just to make sure there were no communication issues). While I thought that would be enough - my training, the Bangla training, some practicing - it, unsurprisingly, wasn't. Although that is all the training we received at Hopkins, I couldn't really translate it to the here. I spent an extra three weeks practicing 7 hours a day with my interviewer on how to probe and elicit detailed answers to posed questions. By the end of it, she had it (!) - at least while she was talking to me. And during that time we also got our ethics approval to start (another side point: know when the holidays in your country are - the local approval was delayed by about three weeks because of Eid and then Durga Puja - timing I was again uninform

Over the course of the past month and a half and interviewing, I have learned the benefits and challenges of who you choose as an interviewer, which is really beneficial for future work and the development of future protocols and any future job I get - all for the future. Main challenges I've had: language barriers, ethnic associations, and training. I appreciate ethnographic/anthropologic/public health research so much more in these respects. I have also learned the differences (implicit responsibilities and expectations) between working in the West and working here. That has been another challenge all in itself - showing up to work on time, timeliness of turnaround on materials, how many hours are in a work day, bureaucracy, etc.

The latter stuff I was not prepared for. And it has been the biggest challenges for me. I am a 23 year-old women in a Muslim country where everyone is older than me. Although I do get added (?) respect for being from Hopkins and from America, ethnically I blend in quite well and so the expectations of who I should be are very different - basically, I shouldn't act like a white Western person, even though I am. Having to motivate workers is hard for me since I am so personally motivated - how do you evoke that passion and desire in others? Having to set rules and boundaries to those older than me is difficult and upsetting - again, that goes with implicit expecations in the West. Having to "reprimand" people when they are doing things inappropriately is even more difficult - I've never really been reprimanded by a boss, so I also don't know how to feel about it and the best way to go about it. I have definitely made mistakes and I have definitely learned from them, but it's not something I ever thought I would be exposed to and something I was completely unprepared for. I suppose a learning experience for everyone involved.

There have of course been some other bureaucratic issues and mistakes and disappointments and cries and yells, but nothing that is probably appropriate for a public blog.

Other projects: Eventually I did get some other projects through some convoluted ways and I will detail them in later posts...

Next time: the results of my interviews...thus far

Thoughts and Observations of the Day

Thoughts
1. If everyone keeps telling me that monsoon season is over, why does it rain everyday?

2. If you are going to put an army in place to monitor the safety of foreigners, shouldn't they be able to communicate with the foreigners?

3. I don't understand rickshaw-wallahs who are chain smokers. I want to do a study on their lung function - does biking all day cancel out the effects of tar?

4. In the middle of a village with no cell phone or radio reception, I heard Aqua's Barbie Girl. And the tribals sang along to the chorus....

My Fieldsite and My Life's People Thus Far

When I first arrived at my fieldsite, it was a breath of fresh air. Bandarban is on the Southeast nub of Bangladesh in the Chittagong Hill Tracts. The area has had its political ups and downs, some of which I will detail, but suffice it to say that the area is mainly full of indigenous populations. In Bandarban alone there are 11 or 12 (I can't remember) and others groups are dispersed around Bangaldesh. Bandarban is full of trees and relatively clean-smelling air. It has rain and mist and dirt roads and women and walking and cows in the streets and PIGS - it has PIGS people. Dhaka is crowded and congested and smelly and by the following pictures, you can see why it was amazing to get here.

I can't remember whether I have briefed you on the larger project, so I will do it again. It's an active surveillance study for the next three years and every week, they will randomly take 12 people and take blood slides to test for malaria (via RDT, PCR, and microscopy). It's the first active surveillance study for malaria in Bangladesh and a previous study showed a parasite level of around 8% during non-rainy seasons here, which is almost as high as some African countries. If you know about malaria: P. falciparum (the worse kind) is most prevalent here and of the CHT (Chittagong Hill Tracts - the surrounding region), Bandarban has shown higher rates. The entire project staff here is tribal people - the 12 fieldworkers for communication reasons, but even the entomologist and the data analyst, who both have university degrees. The medical officer has lived his whole life here and the project manager was brought in special for this project. They are from 4 different tribes I think, which is great because they work with about 6. And most people, even the villagers, know at least one language and Bengali...

The time I spent here in September is useless to detail, except to say that I was welcomed warmly by the fieldstaff, the project manager (Jacob), the medical officer (Chai), the entomologist (Sumit), and the data manager (Annie). We even went on a couple "sightseeing" tours - to a temple and to a small waterfall and did all the prerequisite stuff like meeting people at the hospital we would be recruiting people from and getting
"permissions" from the chief of health something-or-other. It was also the opening of the office and I came down with the PI, so there were lots of celebrations, invitations to dinners, visits to the field, etc. etc. However, since I didn't have IRB approval yet, I couldn't actually do real things.

Bandarban is a major city within the area, so it's not as remote as I thought it would be. That's both a positive and a negative. I wanted a more remote experience and while this is remote, I can take a bus back to Dhaka overnight or a two hour ride to Chittagong and an airport. However, it is nice to have civilization sometimes. And there are wonderful friends there....who I will detail now.

Alison: former Dhaka roommate, Fogarty fellow, and trying to solve the problems of cholera in a lab

Taher, Murshid, and Taibur: three Bangladeshi boys who work in Alison's lab who explain to us the workings of this country and why we shouldn't say some of the things we do...

Muraly: Canadian expat doing some sort of business where he sells things to people...

Lameck: Kenyan boy studying for his MPH at the BRAC School of Public Health

Tarik: Egyptian (?) expat also doing some sort of business here - either with phones or telecomm...or are those the same thing?

Evelyn: second former Dhaka roommate, Fogarty fellow, and involved in many many projects trying to solve the problems of Bangladesh...

Khoshal: other ICDDR, B intern, Dutch medical student, studying Gullian-Barre syndrome

Meghana: other ICDDR, B intern, US medical student from Buffalo, trying to get people to wash their hands

So those are the major people involved in my Dhaka life. All wonderful.

And I think that is probably enough catching up for today. Soon to come: my feelings on conferences, Eid, Durga Puja, my project, Hallowe'en...

The Way You Look Tonight

I loved everything about Nepal and it is definitely on my list of places to visit/work in the future. I would have loved more time to explore the country and the culture, but I suppose for now I will have to do it vicariously through L. and books I've ordered online, waiting for me in Niagara...

Other things I loved about Nepal was the fact that Nepali women are just so damn beautiful. Of course saris make all women look majestic, but there was something about their facial structure and their ethnic ambiguity (to me) that added an extra layer of awe...they weren't Indian, or Tibetan, or Bhutanese, or anything...but you could see resemblences of all of it in them. I know it's naive of me to say they are ethnically ambiguous because they are obviously Nepali, but not having known many Nepalis I try to abstract from the people I do know...Even the modern women were fashionable - with their henna and kajol paried with 3-inch stilettos and cute hair - totally different from Bangladesh...

Even more other things I loved...chai. BG doesn't make chai, they have tea from tea bags and thats about it. It makes me sad. But here, there was a warm milky smoothness of a good pot of chai - the fragrance of cloves and cinnamom wafting through restaurants and the oh-so-magnificant taste of cardamon as it rests in your mouth. For a coutry that produces 10 million pounds of tea a year, you think BG would have gotten the splendor by now...but still people ask me "why do you like milk tea so much?" I cry.

Day 6: Bodnanth and Leaving...

The Bodnanth stupa is one of the largest stupas in Nepal and has tons of Tibetan influence. Om mani padme hum (a mantra to the Bodhisattva of Compassion) is everywhere...chanted...written...it's in the air. Not much to say about this other than it was really big and I don't have pictures of it for the same reason. Once I get my computer back, I promise to update everything with lovely pictures.

After spending some time wandering, having tea, and buying a thanka painting, I returned to the hotel, had some chai and made my way to the airport. K. had to renew his visa, so had returned to Kathmandu alone earlier. I didn't know if it would be granted in time and I didn't know if I would see him on the plane...luckily and after the plane waited specially for him, he made it (!).

Flying home was an adventure in itself. I was probably the only girl in coach and was sitting alone among Nepali workers heading to Malaysia and Saudi Arabia for work. Another highlight was that we got to see Mt. Everest - rising from the clouds like something you would see in a Disney movie - completely unreal and some sort of etherial plane for higher beings. I mean it just looks like a snow-capped mountain, but really, when have you seen a mountain that is higher than your at-full-altitude plane (well, maybe YOU have).

The moment we stepped into Bangladesh, I missed Nepal - the cool breeze, the presence of women, the Hindu/Buddhist culture, and the lack of smell of defecation...oh well, we were back.

Day 5: to NamoBuddha and Back...

Our second day at Dhulikhel began with the early morning sunrise. As I was saying, since we came at the end of the monsoon season, everything was misty and cloudy and foggy and any other synonym you can think of for that. However, although we awoke to a very misty morning, for about an hour, the sky cleared up and we caught a view of the Himalayas to the north (the ONE picture I salvaged...). Apparently in October/November, you can see the whole range of the mountains...I.have.no.words.

Pictures cannot capture the beauty of this scene.

After breakfast, we headed out on a hike to NamoBuddha - a temple approximately 3 hours away from where we were staying. The stupa is a pilgrimage site, mainly for Tibetan pilgrims on their way to Lumbini, the birthplace of Buddha. Although little is actually known about the temple, legend has it that, centuries, ago, there were three princes who love to hunt in these hills, which were overrun with tigers (see origin of the word Dhulikhel). One day, three princes were out hunting and the youngest prince found a very ill tigress nursing her cubs. Seeing the tiger on the verge of death, the prince offered himself up as food, sacrificing his life.

The hike to NamoBuddha was a winding footpath through eons of corn fields and up and down hills. We passed two villages and small groups of children on their way to school, as well as men with huge baskets of maize and women carrying enormous bundles of kindling on her head. Often, the groups of children we passed would yell out, "One pen!" After being very confused, someone told us that often when tourists come and they pass the children, their hearts break and they want to give these poor children something. And most of the time, the only thing people have in their bags/purses/etc that they are willing to part with is a pen, so the children have collections of pens that the tourists give them on their walks. While this was probably an over-dramaticized telling, it may be true.

On our leisurely walk, we befriended a French girl who was travelling alone and who brought us to a Tibetan monastery for lunch. The monastery was HUGE - much larger than the one K. and I found in Pokhara. Lunch there was amazing. We sat in a section marked visitors, removed from the rows and rows of monks, ranging from notice to beginner. There were maybe 150 monks in total, some carrying their own bowls, some with saffron cloth added to their maroon robes, and some just shuffling in with their friends and giggling - I assumed each had to do with how senior they were. One monk led hypnotic chanting through a microphone and once the bell range, younger monks came around serving everyone our of huge metal buckets. From the time we were served to the time the end-of-meal chanting began, to me, felt like 10 minutes, but I am sure it was at least 30 minutes. People had scarfed their food and I was still slowly eating - it was delicious, but I'm just slow.

After lunch, we trekked down to NamoBuddha. The temple was simple, surrounded, as always, by a prayer wheel and at the end of a footpath lined with Tibetan prayer flags. Spending some time just soaking it all in, we then headed back to Dhulikhel.

Getting back, we realized that we had missed the last bus back to Kathmandu. Through much finagling, we were able to procure a taxi for a reasonable price. Within 15 minutes of our ride, the car broke down after the decent from the bumpy hill. Despite this being the "only" taxi in the city, another car mysteriously appeared and we were able to make our way to Bodhnath, another Buddhist site, and a wonderful hotel with HOT water (!)

Day 4: The Height of the Mountains

After an early rise of watching a gorgeous view of the mountains, we trekked to Kali temple at the top of 100 steps up a mountain. On the path, a newly built Buddha towers over the side of the forest, shining in gold though the dense green. Again, no pictures, but try and think of a diamond in a dark sky. The Kali temple wasn't anything too special, but the view was in describable - soaring over a valley and watching the mist roll in and out. We sat at a nearby hotel for chai and just watched the sky. It was amazing that in the span of 20 minnutes, the mist rolled in and out so heavily that your hand could disappear in front of your face, but come back within 10 minutes. Because I think you need some sort of pictures, I have stolen these from L.'s blog.

L.'s collegue walked us around the Old Town, in which the traditional architechture is still preserved. We had breakfast, walked around, K. and I played carrem with a bunch of random guys in the street, and we followed a group of boys behind a school to play ping pong, football, and cricket.

I was amazed at how friendly the people were here. No one stared, people said hi, no one asked for money, and adorbale little children followed us shouting "one photo please". After showing them their picture on the digital camera, they would break down into fits of giggles and laughter.

For the rest of the afternoon, we sat atop the mountain hotel, drant beer (it's in the country!), played cards, talked, and just watched the mountains. It seemed a popular hangout spot for college kids and at least 3 groups of people came to eat, drink, and smoke. One group of college kids we talked to for quite a while and as soon as they pulled out their smokes, I, of course, began my lecture on the dangers of smoking. While two of his friend's agreed with me, he responded "From childhood, it has been a hobby of mine." I couldn't stop laughing.

It was a great place to spend a day relaxing and after watching a gorgeous sunset, we went to bed in anticipation of the sunrise...

Day 3: Travelling

After one wonderful day in Pokahar, we took an 8 hours bus back to Kathmandu . The Gods must have decded to make it a good day because the clouds parted and we got to wach the Annapurna ridge as we left eht city. As I was mezmarized by teh bautry, I couldn't help but think of the economic status of these people and the view they have, compared to the thousand dollar apartments in Baltimore that have a view of delapidated ruins. Do the people here realize the view they have or am I just so amazed because its completely unfamiliar?

Getting back, I got to say goodbye to Marijn, still blown away by the fact that I had seen him again after so long. A classmate from JHSPH, L. is doing her internship in Nepal on infant feeding practices and malnutrition in more of the remote ethnic populations and a collegue from her work was going to take us to his home town of Dhulikhel, a small tourist town outside the city.

It was great of her collegue to be willing to drive us and he gave us a great history/current events less on the way. Dhulikhel is about 30 km east of Kathmandu and has lots of trade between Tibet and Nepal (from a highway built in 1965 by the Chinese) and an elevation of ~1550m (~5500ft), making it pretty cold at night. Recently, the desire for a rise in tourism has led to the construction of a highway from Kathmandu to Dhulikhel with some Japanese assistance. unfortunately, the Maoists often bomb the highway, destroying recent construction.

Dhulikhel is a traditional Newari town and the Newa community is one of the older ethnic communities of Kathmandu. The city name comes from the Newari word town Dhunkhyo, where Dhun means tiger and Khyo means playground. Unfortunately there are no tigers. However, the town has existed for at least five centuries and is layed out according to ancient Hindu planning (with respect to psoitioning, shape, scale, and dominance of building, temples, and public squares). Only parts of the old town still remain, but the retain the traditional window carvings of the people - a craft that seems to now be lost. The town has about ~15,000 people, 80% who are Hindu (the rest are Buddhist). The council of Dhulikhel has an 11.5$ million plan to develop tourism....which while I think is ambitious, but good for the community to create business, makes me sad that they are willing to develop it so much. One of those, you-don't-realize-it-until-it's-too-late kind of developments. L.'s collegue was alos very proud of the fact that the city's water system had multiple slow sand filters, providing the town with some of the best tap water in the Kathmandu valley.

Although we were told this was a tourist town, it wasn't anything like the Niagara Falls I have set in my mind as "toursit." After we checked into our hotel, we realize there was no power and I think we were the only people staying there (?). We decided to walk to find some dinner, but realized that the whole entire town was sleeping (it was maybe 8?) and after running into one older couple on the road who directed us towads food, we had to bang on the gate to get the security guard to let us in to eat. After dinner, we headed back to the hotel only to find ourselves locked out with the gate shut and a huge padlock wrapped in chains. There was no guard. K. climbed over the brick wall and went to find someone to let us in (despite the fact we had passed the entire family watching tv and playing cards as we left).

With that, we called it a night!

Day 2: Riots Turn Buses into Planes...

Okay, so Day Two in Nepal. The plan was to take a bus to Pokhara, the second biggest tourist city in Nepal, home to the Annapurna mountains. Arriving at the bus stand, we dosciver that Maoist rebels have taken control of the highways and the bus is cancelled. No road traffic for the whole day. Apparently its common for this to happen and it usually only lasts for a day, but that didn't really help us considering we were only in the country for like 5 days total. K. had planned to meet a friend and really wanted to head out there, so we forked over the money to take a 20 minute plane ride there.

Arriving at the airport, it was so weird to see how many domestic carriers existed for such a small country. It was probably twice the size of the international airport section we arrived at (!). Flying just above the clounds reminded me again of Girl with a Pearl Earring (the book, not the movie) (what colour is a cloud?) Seeing these white, puffy, cotton balls in the sky is my favorite thing about flying and the view of the cities and landscape was worth the extra money to fly here and not miss this part of the country!

Once we got there, apparently everything in the entire COUNTRY was closed due to the revolt. We had to overpay a taxi to tak us to our hostel. Considering how often these revolts happen, I was surposed at how much it still stops everything. Since we couldn't get rickshaws or CNGs into town and around, we decided to rent bikes and just rise. Armed with a small map with no names, we set off to see Pokhara. First stop: a Hindu temple (Gupteshwor Mahadev Cave) where a stalagmite in a cave was worshipped as Shiva. Next: getting lost trying to find a waterfall. Then we were watched by an entire family (5 sisters!) while we ate lunch. Although we found a bunch of temples on the map, we missed all of these and then finally, we came across a monastry emerging from the top of a mountain (Karma Dubgyu Chokhorling Monastery). Climbing a ridiculous amount of steps, we ran into two girls who were kind enough to show us . Other than the amazing view, it was completely peacful with the soft boom of the drums.

On the way back, we crossed a bridge and my bike faltered over a bump. Catching my balance and trying to be aware of my surroundings, I looked to the river below. Looking back up, out of nowhere, the Annapurna mountains emerged (our first glimpse!). As if cloudy Nepal couldn't get any better, the clounds parted and it did. I tried to follow the mountain ridge, but unfortunately, it disappeared behind some clouds. Being completely ecstatic at having seen one mountain, I could return to Bangladesh.

We stopped at this big lake (Phewa Tal - apparently famous in Nepal) on the way back and K. really wanted to oar a boat - appaarently he didn't get how difficult it could be. After about 15 minutes, he was really tired and gave up. We got to watch a beautiful sunset and if it hadn't been so cloudy, apparently the mountains reflect into the lake. I've decided I want my honeymoon here, haha. Apparently you can also go paragliding here!

Way Back in September: Day 1: Nepal

Okay. While I'm writing, I may as well try and get as far as I can...The first week of September, I took a last-minute trip to Nepal because my project was running into so many delays. A fellow ICDDR, B intern (K.) was already going, so it seemed easy enough and I need to get away from Dhaka and the office and everything before I screamed - I don't think that's appropriate here.

Anyways, we took Biman Airlines, notoriously know for it's untimeliness and the fact that its not commissioned by the World Organization for Planes (or whatever it's called). Everything turned out fine and we ended up in Nepal, inact and on-time (surprising!).

I fell in love with the country before the plane even landed - it was just absolutely breathtaking and while I wish I could post pictures, my computer has subsequently crashed and that's just not possible anymore (I did grab one in time and will attach with a later post). Kathmandu sits in a sit just below the Himalayas, so matter where you looked, majestic mountains rose from the fog and mist around us - an amalgamation of blues, greys, and purples. Absolutely stunning. We had come during the end of the rainy seasosons, which meant that the view wasn't as clear as it could have been and the Himalayas were hidden by the clouds...Granted, I was so blown away as it was, I couldnt even imagine what we would have seen had we come during the winter - peak mountain viewing time.

The owner of the hostel we were staying at picked us up from the airport, which was great! Although he had never been outside of the country, his accent was definitely not South Asian - some words were British, some Aerican, and some Aussie all mixed with his Nepali accent to make something...weird is all I can ascribe to it. Coming from Dhaka, Kathmandu was paradise. Although we were staying in the tourist district, the noise was monomal, there was barely any trash on the ground, and the putrid smell of public defication was absent. Just standing there made me happy and more relaxed. The city was also less hectic and less crowded - no honking of cars or CnGs or anything. And people were wearing Western clothes (!) Things I had forgot existed. Now, granted, we were probably in the tourist section of town, but there were definitely Nepalis who were ascribing to all the things I have described.

Side note: before going to Nepal, I had found out that Marijn, an exchange student who had gone to McGill with me was also there - somewhere. I had sent M. my details and had never heard back, but knew he was going to be in Kathmandu Saturday. I was waiting on pins and needles. As we described our plans to the hostel owner and how I was going to meet up with this Dutch guy, he, funnily enough, told us that M had just been at the hostel the day before! How did we know we were talking about the same blue-eye, blonde-haired beauty? The hostel guy described him "yeah, the guy who never stops smiling?" I knew it was him.

Since we only had an evening left by the time we got there, we decided to hit up Durbar Sqaure. Durbar = Palace and back in the day of Nepal (around the 15th century), the land was divided into three kingdoms - Kathmandu being one of them (Polan and Bhaktapur being the others). [Side note: an invasion by outsiders to all three kingdoms occured in 1768 which unified the kindgoms to what Nepal is today.] The Durbar Square was where the kind lived and reigned from, so the small block is filled with temples and old buildings that resemble courthouses and town halls. This sqaure dates from around the 17th - 18th cenutries, but in 1934 there was an earthquake that kinda destroyed a bunch of the buildings. Although the section was quite touristy (you had to pay to "get in" and everyone kept asking if you needed a guide and people wanted you to take their pictures for money - come on guys, the whole thing was like one city block by half a city block), it was still one of those places that if you lived here, you would come on a weekend and read a book or sit and people watch. If you are ever there, I suggest climbing the tall stairs and just looking down watching the sunset. Again, unfortunately no pictures.

While walking to this place many things amazing me: 1) the amount of people who spoke English - A LOT. One little boy, probably around 12 asked me what coutry I was from. When I said Canada, he replies "capital: Ottawa" and then starts telling me about snow. When the boy asked K., he stupidly replied Zimbabwe (he's from the Netherlands in reality) and the boy replies "capital: Harare" I felt like we were on a game show; 2) how every time you turned a corner, there was a shrine or temple just sitting there, being worshipped, covered with garlands and candles. It was like everything around you was sacred - how could you walk anywhere? It's also such a great mix of Buddhist and Hindu shrines - it seems much more harmonious than other places I've been. And the fact that it was so "out there" - for everyone and anyone to see and worship; 3) The presence and dominance of women - women driving motorcycles, women selling nuts in the street, women just everywhere. Although I never really saw a huge presence of women in Dhaka, it wasn't something that struck me as so odd. However, now comparing it to the overwhelming amount of women here and the openness with which they walk around, I was srtuck by how deserted Dhaka actuallly is - a complete different role of women.

Getting back to the hostel, the owner tells me my Dutch friend is back - early! I bounded up the stairs like a kid in a candy store and after two years, got to see him! We spent a couple hours talking before we had to hit the hay, but just that little bit of time could definitely hold me out for another two years!

Thoughts of the Morning

1. When the sunrise prayer call from the mosque next door doesn't wake you up, you know that you needed sleep. And such a good sleep it was.

2. When the pitter-patter of the rain wakes you up two hours later, you know it's a perfect time to rise. One of those not-too-tired, not-too-awake type moments where you can lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to the rain, and just be content?

3. There is a spider in my room. Total, a little larger than my hand (or equal to what a normal person's hand would be), with a body that's quite small - maybe the size of an apricot - but HUGE legs. You know how I feel about spiders. I found him one day and freaked out. I have learned to live with him, but every night when I return, I turn on the lights before I step into the room to make sure I know where he sits. He never moves. I sleep. When I wake, he is gone. However, the next night, he is in the exact same spot - how does he know? And why can I never find him during daylight? There are only so many places in the apartment...

4. Living my food life vicariously through bloggers these days, I realize that it is coming ridiculously close to Thanksgiving...and I long for the pungent aroma of rosemary and garlic turkey in the oven, the taste of wild mushroom stuffing, and the sweet tang of homemade cranberry and walnut sauce. Cheesy-chili cornbread and dense pumpkin pie with light-as-air whipped cream. Freshly grated nutmeg and cinnamon stick twirlers in my piping hot apple cider....Unfortunately there are no ovens here. Let alone anything else I mentioned. My dreamworld comes to a crashing hault.

I just can't seem to get this right...

So, I guess I'm not too good with the blooging culture and I keep trying to figure out what it is...sometimes I have time to update it and either it seems like such a laborious task or I have no motivation to write about things here or...oh, what does it matter. I realize that even if short, I should update you all and that one of the main daunting tasks is updating you on the month of September (really, I haven't done too much since then!). SO, I'm going to ignore it for now and eventually, one day, my trip to Nepal will be detailed. For now, I am just going to take it day by day and try...and then try some more to post.

It's been a while...

So, I obviously haven't updated this in a really long time...mainly it was because I was really frustrated with my project and the delays we had been encountering that I didn't want that frustration to taint the rest of my experiences...the issues haven't really gotten much better, rather they have morphed into new and different issues. I figure its all part of the research game and definitely the internship experience, so I might as well update you all on what else has been happening since the beginning of September. I will detail it slowly over the course of a while so bear with me.

September 2 - 7: I went to Nepal, which is one of the most beautiful places I have been, so I definitely need time to expand and put up pictures.

September 8 - 19: I took a visit to my field site, which is GORGEOUS. Although we didn't have IRB approval to actually do any research, I met the staff, introduced myself at the hospitals we would be working at, and made some field visits to see how the actual project was going to work.

September 19 - October 12: I sat in Dhaka waiting for my project start. Eid occured and my advisor from Hopkins came for a conference. I went to the conference, attended a planning meeting for a new neonatal health study, and just hung out. Once the beginning of October hit and my project still wasn't off the ground, I began to look for extra work to supplement my time. I found 3 new projects/people to involve myself with...I then FINALLY got IRB approval and headed down to my field site to start my work.

October: Throughout October I have been travelling back and forth from Dhaka (the capital) to my field site by overnight bus (it takes 11 hours) to handle the extra projects I am working on and my own research project.

October 29: We had a Hallowe'en party where we got to invite all the Bangladeshi's from ICDDR, B and exposed them to a wonderful Western holiday - complete with costumes, decorations, candy, and candied apples...mmmm.

So, now I am again at my fieldsite for a week before I head back to Dhaka for a week to have some more meetings and trainings. Throughout the week I will be updating and expanding on all of the things above, complete with pictures!

Paddy Fields

My obsession with rice fields only grew while in Nepal and I found a close-to-perfect description of the colors of the rice paddies in BG.

"The land was divided into rectangular plots of rice, framed by a raised mud bank the width of a footprint. Different stages of growth were segregated in the plots: there were the pale, tiny shoots the colour of limes, which would be pulled and replanted when they grew waist high; and then the established shoots, denser and slightly darker; and finally the milk-toned paddy, ready to be harvested. the plots were miniature islands, each in its own flooded pool; together they were a chequered palette of green and gold." 

The Golden Age, Tahmima Anam

Different from the rice paddies of BG, because Nepal is rooted in the Himalaya mountains and the consequent valleys, the plains for rice are limited. I was impressed with how the Nepali's used the sides of their hills to grow rice and maize; usually area reserved for forests or rocks in West, not agriculture (from what I have seen, I mean). I assume terraced rice paddies are common in South East Asia, as well...It lead to the varying green hues interspersed with the lush greens of the forests, dotted with sunlight and the rich yellow of corn. 

Side note: Although BG seems to produce tons of rice throughout the country, all the rice in the Chittagong Hill Tracts (CHT) is imported from Burma - I guess they haven't learnt how to use the sides of the CHT hills for rice yet.

Much Seen and Done

So, it's been like three weeks since I've written anything! In that time, I went to Nepal for a week and I visited my fieldsite for a week and a half and am now back in Dhaka for Eid and Durga Puja holidays...It will take me a while to update on all these things, so bear with me. 

My new fascination is South Asia history, as pushed by my trip to Nepal and the Chittagong Hill Tracts. The more I read about how the history of each of these countries is linked, the more interested I become in reading each side of the story - Indian v. Pakistan, Bangladesh v. India, Pakistan v. India. Because of being in BG, my first priority was attempting to understand the events leading up to the Liberation War in 1971 and political control after that. My first foray into the subject was a fiction novel called The Golden Age. It relays the life one family through the year of the Liberation war - a mother with a son and daughter, both involved. It gave me a lot of insight into how families were ripped apart between West and East Pakistan, how Hindus felt loyalty to a country that had a single (and different) religion associated with it, and, of course, the process of fighting for independence of a country. If anyone is interested in the subject, I highly recommend it as a read.

The one thing that most struck me about the war was women's involvement. Not just were they nurses and caretakers, but they were trained in fighting, and led a lot of the frontline efforts. Shortly after finishing this novel, I read A History of Bangladesh in which I found the following poem, written by Sufia Kamal. She was one of East Pakistan's literary figures, before BG independence. Throughout the 40s and 50s, she was prominent in speaking out against the suppression of Bengali language and culture by the Pakistani government, and was also highly involved during the war in 1971. She wrote a poem, copied below, called No More Time For Braiding Your Hair.

There's no more time for braiding your hair in patterns, 

Or for being concerned with the glamorous border of your saris,

The tip mark on your forehead, your mascara or lipstick. 

No more time, no more time - for the battle for life is on!

There's no more laughter in blossoming girls, or in young widows. 

Their mouths and lips are firmly pursed in stern resolve. 

Restless now, like the sharp edge of a sword

Are the ender eyes, now piercing and raised. 

Not like the frightened doe are these eyes any more. 

They are searching, like a hunting hawk.

Their bitter hearts have turned cold, savage, hard, 

To take revenge on the brute ravagers. 

The women have shed their coy, delicate gentility

To wreak vengence for the sorrow of their lost dear ones. 

In the slender bodies and hearts is gathered 

The courage of lions.

Boudless strength they hold - these valient women. 

No more mere love songs - instead, 

They sing: 'Victory for my motherland, 

My people, the heroic fighters!'

Dipping their onchol in the martyrs' blood

Spilled in the street, they repay their debt

To Mother Earth in blood. 

icddr, b – the hospital

The hospital is comprised of a “short stay” ward, a “longer stay” ward, a  “special care” ward (ICU), and an HIV ward. Pretty much all people who come to the hospital come for diarrhea and dehydration-related illnesses (cholera, E. coli, rotavirus, and invasive diarrhea). The people who have other problems (e.g. respiratory infections) also have concomitant dehydration. All the services the hospital provides are entirely free, but they don’t have extensive equipment (no ventilators, cardiac machines, etc) and so the majority of people are just on IV saline and ORS. It used to cost 20Tk for the facilities, but they had too many problems finding people change that they gave up – hilarious reason to stop asking for money.

On average during the dry season, they have approximately 200-300 patients per day and in the rainy season, 450-600. In 2007 after a major flood, they had 1045 patients in one day!! In a city of 10 million people, this is a small amount, but just in sheer numbers, it’s HUGE! Most years they treat over 100,000 people. Also impressive is the fact the hospital is entirely computer-based – there is no paper used anywhere. The doctors use handheld PDAs which are directly and wirelessly linked to a computer system and a back-up system.

So Dhaka has a reeeeeaaally low HIV prevalence (less than 0.01%) and even though there is an HIV ward, I don’t know how much it’s used. UNAIDS estimates that ~13,000 people in the country are HIV-positive, but the actual number of people who have been tested and know are less than 2,000. ICDDR, B has 10 beds for HIV patients, but only 3 were full when I visited…

I plan on seeing more of the hospital and getting a better tour, but that will be soon to come!

IRB Awesomeness

I got conditional ethics approval for my project!!! yaaaay!! Now I can finally start to get some work done!

Jaflong and Other Thoughts on Sylhet

After the house visits on the second day, the project people took us on a “tourist visit” to Jaflong, the town on the Bangladeshi-Indian border. We drove for about 50km to the border, looked around for 10 minutes and drove back. While the view was totally amazing to see, I thought it was great that they were so willing to drive for a long while just to see it. The Indian state of Assam is on the other side and as you drive through the rice paddies of Sylhet, these massive mountains appear majestically out of nowhere.

The border follows a large river and so the town economy is based on getting rocks from the river and processing them into bricks. The men take canoes into the river, using bamboo sticks as “oars” – the bamboo sticks are long enough to reach the bottom of the of river and they are used to push the boats along. They are amazing at filling the boat to the brink of sinking and then pushing it back to the river’s edge.

Other Thoughts 

One: So in Dhaka, you can pretty much walk around anywhere and someone will speak English; if you dress appropriately, you semi-blend in; and white people are just the norm. In Sylhet, however, this seems to be less so. As three white girls walking around, we got followed and gawked at everywhere. And not discrete staring, like groups of men blatently staring…we would walk around and have auto-rickshaws, rickshaw-wallahs, and motorcycles stop, pull-off to the side of the road, and just watch us. It’s not like we were doing anything exciting – just standing and talking to each other or sitting in a car or getting gas – and we would have people lined up around the block.

 (from in a car, stopped to drop someone off)

Two: What is also surprising is that A LOT of people here ask me if I’m Bangladeshi. I’ve never thought I’ve looked South Asian before – Hispanic if anything – but here people seem to know I have something different about me. I’ve even gotten called Indian a couple times. I’m not sure if it’s because they expect all Americans to be white and that they’re worldview is not big enough to include many other countries or if I can actually pass for someone from around here. Either way, it definitely makes me feel great that when alone I can vaguely blend-in to the local culture.

Three: One of the doctors who accompanied us to Jaflong invited us to his house for Iftar (the food you use to break fast during Ramadan). It was amazingly sweet of him and his wife and the food was delicious. The traditional foods were all present (dates, apples, jalabee, budjees, mango juice, and water) and she had also made channa (chickpeas) and cucumber and pasta. This was finished with some chaa (tea). We went to another Iftar dinner this week and they served pretty much all the same food – no channa, but these cabbage roll things. It would be interesting to me to see what the surge of sugary foods does to the body…doesn’t seem healthy to me. 

Four: Being in Sylhet gave me an appreciation for the independence that icddr, b gives us in Dhaka. Here, the staff was really overprotective us of and wouldn't let us do simple things - take a rickshaw into town, go for a run that was too far, etc. In Dhaka, no one really cares what we do or where we go. Here, we had an escort to take a private bus (like Greyhound) to the project site and almost home from the project site - we had to argue like mad for our independence. It's nice that they care and I know it's their job - if anything happens to you, they are responsible - but it definitely inhibits the experience you have here as a student. It's hard to figure out what it's like to live in Bangladesh if you aren't allowed to go out and the power goes out in the guesthouse at 9pm for the night...

So that's the experience I had in Sylhet. It was great to get outside of Dhaka for a week and experience more of what Bangladesh has to offer. Hopefully I will get to see A LOT more in the near future...

Projahnmo 3: Chlorohexidine Efficacy

One of the main reasons for going to Sylhet was to see the Projahnmo 3 study site. This is the neonatal health project I was writing papers for this summer for those of you who know. The Stage 3 intervention is comprised of two parts: 1) testing the efficacy of chlorohexidine (CHX) application to the umbilicus in decreasing neonatal mortality and 2) operational research (OR) to see how much village woman would pay for and where they would get CHX and clean delivery kits. 

CHX has been proven to decrease neonatal mortality in other areas (e.g. Nepal) so I think this study is just further confirming that. Right now, if you buy CHX from a pharmacy or a trained birth assistant it costs 45Tk (~$.65), but if you give birth in a government facility it's free. A clean delivery kit costs 18Tk (~$.25) in the same way. The intervention uses pamphlets, community meetings, posters, and songs to describe how to use the CHX and where to get it, etc. 

The program manager set-up two field visits for us. On the first day, we went to an OR community meeting and the second day, we went to a neonatal home visits for the efficacy trial and a pre-birth community meeting. 

The first day: From the office in Syhlet, we drove about 70km northwest, which took approximately 2.5 hours. We picked up some materials at a local field office and then attempted to make our way to the community meeting. We ended up getting massively lost among the miles of rice paddies and drove around for about an hour and a half asking random people on the side of the road for this community. When we finally found someone who said we were near, we decided to walk. After about 40 minutes walking through the sweltering heat with no cover, we arrived to about 15 women, waiting and upset. Apparently the meeting couldn't start without our evaluator and they had been waiting for more than an hour. I completely understand. 

In addition to the 15-ish women who sat in the meeting, so did about 15 kids. A lot of the kids kept crying and fiddling, which I thought would disturb the meeting, but they pushed right through, even yelling at the kids sometimes. A group of men gathered at the window to stare at us because we were white (it was reaaaallly funny)! The community health assistant gave a brief demonstration on how to apply CHX to the cord and gave a handout to the women. Lots of the women asked questions, which I thought was good - it indicates they showed at least some interest in what was being said. Most of them also listened to the actual presentation and demonstration intensively. After the question period, the communications officer we were with asked a series of questions to evaluate what they had learned, but also how much they were willing to pay for the supplies, where they would get them, if they thought it would work, etc. So the data that's being collected is really useful and informative. Unfortunately though, the switch from the CHW to the communications director involved some re-shuffling, so there a lot of the women left during this time period. 

Once we were done, we were supposed to go see a male community meeting and visit one of the satellite clinics, but the time we spent getting lost messed that up, so we just went home.

Impressions of the village: I'm not sure what the economic status of the community was, but their house was multi-roomed, had electricity with fans, and numerous cell phones. All the kids looked healthy and well-built and one of the men even talked to me in English (he asked me to take a picture of all the men together!). All the kids were great and were laughing and playing and having great fun! I took a couple of pictures of the women and kids, which they didn't realize. When I showed them the pictures from it, they were sooo excited and had me take a bunch of pictures in a little photo shoot! It was awesome.

The second day: Today we visited the main trial in a village about 70km from Sylhet from India. This community was located in the most AMAZING location - a perfect location in which to place a cottage. 

The first visit we went to was for CHX application for a neonate that was 3 days old. A CHW first asked the mother a series of questions to assess the health of the baby and if there were any signs of infection, then provided a physical examination. The CHW comes on day 1, 3, and 7, I think to do the same thing. There is also a VHW (village health worker) that works in the group of households to apply the CHX every day. THe VHW also has communication with the CHW so that if there are signs of infection on the days that she doesn't come, she can be called. The whole process took about 20 minutes.

The second visit was a community meeting for a woman who was 7.5 months pregnant. The CHW encouraged her to go to a facility to deliver, but if she couldn't (cost, transport, etc), how to have a clean, safe birth, how to cut the umbilical cord, how to wash the baby and prop him/her up, how to breastfeed (positioning, attachment, timing, etc), and how to contact the VHW for CHX. In addition to the pregnant women, there was her mother, her mother-in-law, a TBA for the community, the VHW, and a couple other women. It was great to see that the woman and the VHW had so many women for support. We stayed for about 45 minutes and then left, but the women were free to ask questions and get advice. Total, the meetings last for about 2 hours. 

Impressions of the village: According to the doctor we were with, this village was one of the lower economic-class communities. None of the houses had electricity, they were mainly one-roomed with a huge bed that multiple household members would sleep on, and the roofs were made of patched together rice-bags. You could definitely get the impression of the poorness, but all of a sudden this 12 year old girl pulls out a camera phone to take pictures of us (the white people)! It was sooo odd - I know that phone companies get around and that it's possible it was a community phone, it was just so odd to see such a poor community with a cell phone nicer than the one I owned in the States.

It's also amazing what a communal event birth is. Both the CHX visit and the pre-birth visit brought out about 15 women, even though the visit was targeted at one specific person. It's great that everyone pitches in to help and that multiple people benefit from the information provided at the meetings.

Week Four: Sylhet

The day after we went to Old Dhaka, I went to Sylhet (a city in northeast Bangladesh) to visit a classmate and a neonatal health project. Sylhet Division (similar to a state or province) is full of flat plains filled with miles upon miles of rice paddies.

History: in 1303 AD a Muslim saint (Shah Jalal) arrived to Sylhet from Mecca with 306 Sufi saints and army generals.  This group of people defeated Raja Gour Gobinda (current power holder) and converted all the Hindus and Buddhists in the area, who then began to further spread Islam in the region. Shortly after Shah Jalal’s death, Sylhet because a centre of Islam in Bengal and in historical documents, Sylhet is often referred to as Jalalabad during the era of the Muslim rule. 

In the late 18^th century, when then British East India Company had moved into the region, they became interested in it for its placement in the war against Burma. Gradually, Sylhet was assimilated into British control and was governed as a part of Bengal and then Assam, a state of India which it borders on the North. It remained as part of Assam until independence in 1947, when a referendum made it part of East Pakistan. 

At the same time of independence, many British settled here, so it is not uncommon to find people with lighter skin (definitely saw) and slight London accents (apparently!). Also, the majority of Bangladeshi immigrants to Britain is from this region (like 95%) and has stronger ties to the homeland than other Bangladeshis. These immigrants send tons of money back, which is fed into the local economy and has allowed the development of this area. This is apparent in the huge stores that have been built, but no one seems to shop at.

Landscape: So, like I said, miles and miles of rice paddies. They are divided in two ways: 1) split into squares that are separated by thin raised aisles of soil so people can walk between or 2) by use of canoes that just maneuver through the water. Water floods the divisions to help the seedlings grow and then once it gets there, people hand pick the stalks, and remove the rice from the stems and leave them to dry in the sun on mats. It was pretty cool to see the process and I'm sure this doesn't serve as a great explanation. The men who used the canoes to maneuver through the rice wore straw, circular hats reminiscent of South East Asia. It was the typical BBC picture of Thailand or China - definitely not what I expected to see in Bangladesh. Granted, I'm not sure if I had any expectations to begin with. 

Fishing also seemed to be a popular choice of vocation in the area. Men set up bamboo poles against bridges in order to create a triangle of net. They left the net in the water long enough for enough fish to get caught and then removed it and, ahh-ha, fish! Although Bangladesh used to be a huge fishing port, apparently a lot of jobs are being lost in the industry due to industrialization (makes sense).

This is more of what I expected Bangladesh to be like - agriculturally-based, cows grazing in green fields, villages of houses with corrugated tin roofs. It was great to get out of Dhaka and into the country-side to see more of Bangladesh...

Puran Dhaka

The history of a city tells you a story about why it is the way it is. Last week-end, our group of people took a tour of Old Dhaka in attempts to learn part of this. The tour is led by an NGO in Dhaka that fights for the preservation of historical landmarks; the government really doesn't seem to care and is continuing to tear down hundreds of these buildings to create high-rise apartment buildings. The NGO is advocating for the creation of "historical landmarks" on the basis of the locations role in the history and development of Dhaka and its architectural significance (with all the changes in rulers of the land, there is an amazing mix and blend of styles).

A little about Old Dhaka - Dhaka city is approximately 25-square miles of which Old Dhaka is about 8 percent of this. However, about 70% of the wholesale industry is conducted here. It's a mix of businesses and homes, but for some reasons many of the people who work here don't live here and vise versa. From where we live in Dhaka, it takes about 45 minutes to an hour and half (in traffic) to reach.

The walks change every week-end and so our three-hour tour (which began at 8am) covered the Armenian settlements of Old Dhaka, now in a sub-neighbourhood called Armanitola. The Armenians settled in the late 17th century and having just been leaving throughout the 20th century. The settlers were heavily involved in Bengali trade and commerce during the 17th and 18th centuries and propelled the export of jute and muslin. They also opened the first non-governmental school in Dhaka. During the time they flourished, the whole community was considered to be "locals" from the perspective of the previous inhabitants and from the perspective of the Armenians themselves. Some intermarriage existed between the Armenians and Bangladeshis (or what was to become Bangladesh) and many of them are buried in the area as well. The oldest grave found was a man buried in 1714 and we saw a very recent grave from 2005 of a 108-year-old woman!

Our first stop on this tour was the Church of the Hold Resurrection (locally known as 'khristan bari') and it's associated cemetery. The church was established in 1781, but no long has regular mass due to the lack of Christians in Dhaka. Apparently there are about three masses per year, but only for special occasions - and for the Australian Archbishop who comes twice a year ('Why does this Australian man come here', you may ask. No one can tell me and its frustrating...). The inside of the church fits just around a 100 people, so at some point there was definitely a sizeable community. The church itself is very simple - red, white, and blue paint with little ornamentation and most of the original furniture that was imported with the first settlements. Fun fact: the arch over the alter is the largest arch to have survived the massive earthquake of 1897 (?) that downed tons of the city.

We then visited a smattering of old, beautiful buildings that had been gutted and were being used as pharmaceutical warehouses or were dilapidated houses still being used for temporary housing. It was upsetting to see such gorgeous buildings completely unkept - dirty, broken, and just uncared for. Most of them are probably possible to fix, but would require lots of money and time and effort - something the government or the people who own the houses are willing to do. Our tour guide explained to us that when you own the building, there are restrictions on continuous building, e.g. adding more layers to the house, so it is a common practice to sell just the top floor of the building to a friend and then build on top of this (apparently the rule is per person, not per building - odd no?). 

Mosques are obviously popular in Bangladesh and we passed two along the way. The first, who's name I can't remember, was a mosque and an attached green shrine, depicting traditional Mughal architecture. 

The second, which is the mosque depicted on the 100 Taka note, is called the Sitara (Star) Mosque and dates from the early 18th century. Throughout the years, there has been lots of destruction and re-construction of it and so the existing mosque is not really what existed back in the day when it was one of the first mosques in Dhaka. Around 50 years ago, a local businessman financed its redecoration with Japanese and English china-tiles and so there are a whole bunch of tiles with Mt. Fuji on them. The mosque is built in the traditional Mughal style of having four corner towers and is decorated with a mosaic style called chini tikku...and of course, there are tons of stars all over the mosque in this style.

The last place we visited was a public school, which for some reason, I thought was the most beautiful building we saw. It had this quiet openness about it - a place where you know you could just read a book and be completely happy.

So that concludes tour 1 of Old Dhaka...we really only covered about 5 streets and there is tons more to be discovered!