Last 4 days in Bangladesh...

Thanks to Jim Louttit. With whom I worked at Scotiabank before, I managed to connect with BRAC, probably the largest NGO in Bangladesh, and definitely one of the best ones I have seen thus far in my life.

So, my plan to end such amazing journey through (part of) Bangladesh, was to dedicate my last few days with BRAC. Little did I know how amazing they were.

BRAC ' director of the Ultra Poor program had generously invited me to spend three days with them touring some villages to see their work from closer. Ha! How amazing!!!???

So after coming back to Dhaka (from Khulna), I had a whole afternoon to kill till the next day where i was to meet with BRAC, so I dropped my bags in a hotel near their office, and spent the whole day walking through Dhaka center, to discover the tanneries as it is apparently such a huge industry in the country. Ha! They even have a Leather Engineering and Technology university!!! So quite a fascinating day of leather and A LOT of walking! Though I must say, these tanneries do have the charm of the ones in Marrakesh.

That evening went I got home, I was dead. Two days without really any sleep and a whole day of urban walking knocked me down. So in bed by 9pm. O:-)

The following three days I spent with Wazeedul, who in some ways looks like a shorter and less bulky version of Mohammad Ali and who is the manager of the Ultra Poor program and has been with BRAC for more than 10 years.

Those three days were magical. Yes I know, I use that strong word often. But in all honesty, all these moments truly are magical in so many ways, especially compared to the life I had back in the corporate superficial and materialistic world.

BRAC is so interesting as it fully integrates the whole value chain of poverty alleviation. It first targets the poorests of the poorests by giving them (selected groups per village) a 18-months training hand holding on livelihoods, skills, income generation, basic financial literacy, and even transfers over to them some assets (cows, goats, poultry,...) so that these trainees can actually start generating some income for themselves. They even receive a small stipend to compensate for the potential time consuming income loss of managing the new assets until they can actually start generating some income. Then based on their evolution over the 18 months period, BRAC graduates them and transitions them over to the micro credit program where they now take more responsibilities and have the opportunity to tremendously increase their assets for a small interest rate. But they are still coached and closely monitored by BRAC's team. And ultimately, they can move up to create some social enterprises hand in hand with BRAC. Social enterprise from which profits are generated and then used to finance 75% of the grant based other programs of BRAC. Simply brilliant how this actually huge 75% social enterprise (though more categorized as an NGO) is addressing all the issues of poverty alleviation and is almost self sufficient in doing so.

So for three days I got to meet with many of these poor women, some from the very first phase and some from the micro credit phase. If at first, when witnessing the tears of desperation yet of hope as well from the ultra poor women I got so moved and disturbed inside because of such human nature inequality and unfairness, (Ha! Yet another proof to me that if there really was a loving God he would not have created such inequalities. What would be the point? How would that be a sign of love and care?!) when I the saw how transformed and proud the women from the micro credit phase were, I felt so much better and so grateful for the work BRAC is doing.

Their model is just inspiringly brilliant! Really, check them out online. They don't scream all over the world about their work about what they have created. They just do it. Piece by piece, but they do it.

During my journey through Bangladesh, one of my concern was to check this global hype about Yunus and his Grameen Bank for the poor.
All over the world people see him as the savior of the poor. Then one who has transformed the solution model to alleviating poverty.

Well let me tell you that after doing a lot of fact checking and asking in cities and villages, inside of Bangladesh, Grameen is actually seen as a big scam. A purely profit maximizing corporation who does not care a bit about the poor. Yes, perhaps when Yunus started he was close to the poor and genuinely cared to provide a full solution. And perhaps he did to some degree and for a very short period of time. But when Grameen because the empire that it is today, the Grameen and Yunus you read about in books and the ones you hear about from the mouths of the actual poor and the Bangladeshi, are entirely different.

Grameen bank is a bank, and a bank is here to generate cash. Period.

Grameen is priding itself for providing loans without any collateral. A big lie apparently. If a villager is unable to make one weekly payment, Grameen will force him/her to sell his/her assets (house or livestock) to make the payment. Angelina and I had actually heard that from the mouth of one of the Grameen collection agent in Kanchanpur, but we had a hard time believing it. Now I am convinced,

However, it is true that Yunus and his books have spread a lot of inspiration all over the world. But it is clear that neither the concept of micro credit nor social business have been created by Yunus and Grameen. Not at all. Many organizations, grassroots for the most part, had been doing this for decades before Grameen even made its first loan. It was just not being publicized.

Anyhow, I don't want to go on and on about this as it won't solve anything. Do, however, read Yunus books, not as a successful example of what he has done, but rather as an inspiration of what you could do.

But in a nutshell, the concept of social business (which now I am a huge fan off, and much more than micro credit) consists in helping people in need make money while you also at the same time generate some revenue for yourself. And the surplus profit generated from the business then gets all or in part re-injected into the business to make it grow. Simple but so impactful.

There are no set of strict rules as long as you are respecting the law and human rights and having a positive impact on the lives of others who need help, you are on the right track.

So now, after three days of high inspiration from a successful and impactful model I can't wait to find how I want to replicate a similar integrated approach and help the poor get out of poverty and not contribute anymore in helping the rich get richer.

Hehe! Sorry for the messy post and the absence of story telling. Though the wonders I have seen in those villages with Wazeedul are with me forever, the impact they have had on my inspiration and ambitions is more what I wanted to share.

So voila!

Oh, and I could not bid farewell to Bangladesh without mentioning the amazingly insightful and also inspiring last diner I had in the country.
A friend of Angelina (Mariana from Brazil) whom I had met two weeks before with Angelina, and who works for MSF had invited me to the MSF house for diner. Hmmm...how to not say a giant YES to such invite?! So we (a French, a Philipino, an American, a Brazilian, and a Ugandan) spent the whole evening, eating delicious food and sharing stories about our many trips and about our frustrations about the world. Gosh, I wish that diner never stopped. It was so interesting and insightful. The stories of a backpacker (me) vs the ones of MSF workers. Huge contrasts. And well, all of them had spent quite a lot of time in Africa, so ha! Here we go everyone: I am definitely going to Africa this year, and so far, strongly considering Mali, Burkina, Niger, Guinee, Ethiopia, and Uganda.

My objective or deadline as Sebastian would call it is to be in Brazil before the end of the year. :-)

Ok, bye bye Bangladesh. You have definitely given me way more than I could ever have imagined. I hope that the jewel of a country that you are does not get spoiled by tourism and consumerism like so many south east Asian countries have been going trough for years now. Stay true to who you are: beautiful sceneries with people with gigantic hearts and smiles.

Mongla and the Sundarban...

Today is Sunday 23rd February, it is 8:30am.

Yesterday I just got back from spending a week down south in the Khulna Division of south west Bangladesh.

My initial motivation to go there was to first visit an NGO who also runs a solid waste management social business, and then check out the biggest mangrove in the world, the Sundarban.

The local NGO is called RUSTIC and they are involved in several smaller projects varying from providing schooling to slum girls, home garbage collection, solid waste management, vermiculture...but as is usually the case, when I got there I quickly realized that it looked a lot better and bigger on paper than in reality. Nonetheless, I spent two days with them, visiting a couple of projects and asking millions of questions to try and better understand their models and problematics. The more I visit similar organizations and the more I realize how truly valuable is the combination of my different past training and educations (NGO, agri-tourism, MBA, banking, consumer goods...). So I came up with quite a few interesting ideas and suggestions I think, that can help them become more self sufficient and sustainable. Let's see...

So after two days in Khulna town, I headed down to Mongla, starting point of the famous mangrove. This town is not such a small town, and is surrounded by numerous other tiny villages. I stayed in Mongla 3 nights and 4 days. The entire time we (this weird Australian guy and I) were the only foreigners in town. (In Khulna I was myself the only foreigner).

So the fact that Bangladesh is such a non touristy destination, being the only "white face" in town definitely brought a LOT of attention.

If you ask me what is the most annoying thing about this country, aside from the traffic and urban pollution, I would say people staring at you ALL the time and everywhere as if I had come from another planet. This does get quite tiring after a while, but I sometimes turn it into a little game. Lol. I simply try to stare them down for as long as possible to make them feel uncomfortable. Funny little game. The thing is that in the West, staring at people is quite impolite, so when people do it to me it makes me feel uncomfortable. And I must admit that the staring in Bangladesh is hell of a higher level than in Indonesia. By the end I tried something funnier: when entering a public bus or a local small restaurant, and every one staring on and on, I would just quickly get up and yell a very loud and animated (with my arms) "hello everyone!". Hahaha! It was so funny. The uncomfortable ones quickly turned around and the more curious and gutsy ones actually used this "intro" as an excuse to engage conversation.

So where was I? Hmmm...

I am actually now in Katmandu, it is February 27th, 6pm, and am headed to Pokhara for my second Vipassana course. Kind of dropped my blog post during my last few days in Bangladesh. But I got really busy, and in a very inspiring way!

Ah, Mongla! Mongla, Mongla, Mongla! I initially went there to check out the mangrove and spend some time on small boats hanging out on the canals. Yeah right! When I got there I quickly realized that because I was a foreigner, it was going to cost me an arm and a leg, and not because the mangrove is filled with crocodiles, but because of the prices the boat people were asking. Pure robbery! I tried many times to make them understand that 23 Bangladesh takas is not the same as 23 US dollars. They were unable to get it. So I just gave up and realized that after all, there is only so much excitement a mangrove can provide, and that soaking on culture and people would definitely be much more enriching. So I got walking, walking, walking, walking...just about every day and everywhere...and gosh was it magical! But i walked alone. No way I was to walk with this weirdo from Australia. (I keep saying he is a weirdo because on the few occasions we hung out or went for short boat rides together, as soon as we got back to town, the guy would just disappear in a second and not reappear til night time as if nothing had happened. Meanwhile. I would waste about an hour looking for the guy...the first time only. Backpacker behavior, you always look after your buddy.)

So yes, I walked through the surrounding villages all the time. I met the most colorful and beautiful people. The biggest (and at the same time most shy) smiles. Kids fighting with each other to hold my hands. Words just can't describe how magical it was. I remember thinking while I was walking how amazed and happy I was. So many smiles and happy souls.

One day, as I was walking at random, a guy on a motor cycle stops by and asks if I want a ride. He asked where to, I said I don't know. I just pointed towards a direction. I jumped on, and off we went. For like 40 minutes we rode, with his buddy on another motorcycle next to us, through the rice fields and villages, and for the most part, along the most luminous and beautiful fishing ponds. Little did I know that he thought I wanted to go to this huge construction site at the doorstep of the mangrove, far away. As we were going I initially got worried as to how I was to get back to town from sooooo far away, and barely any vehicle on the road. But when we got to the fishing ponds...I forgot everything. I was just in awe. 40 minutes later he dropped me of, we shook hands, and we went our separate ways.

I walked a bit and to my luck, a shared rickshaw showed up soon after. I jumped on and we headed back to town where I arrived about an hour later...just in time for sunset.

My last day I decided to go to Bagerhat...with the Australian guy. (20 minutes after we arrived the guy disappeared. Oh well...) Wow! That place is so incredibly beautiful...but not the things that all tourists go there for, not the many ruins of mosques and not the 60 dome mosque. No, none of that. But the villages and the old remnants of the very first red-brick paved roads going through a sort of giant bamboo tunnel, where only bicycle and pedestrians can go, way outside the center of town.

An hour after arriving, as I was walking trying to find those old mosques, I met this student, Abdel Rahim, who was riding this old bicycle. We were kind of in the jungle, along this gorgeous greenish duck pond. At first I just wanted to tell him to go away and leave me in peace. But no. I decided to have yet another Angelina day (I will explain later). So when he asked if he could walk with me, I accepted, and off we went, following his lead, since he was from there. He took me to  every single point of actual interest in the town through the most beautiful back paths. He asked me after a while if he could spend the whole day with me. Sure. Why not. He then tells me that he prefers to do so than to go to school in the morning, and to work in the afternoon. Oh my did I feel privileged! He just wanted to be friends and practice his English. Then, given that time was running and I didn't have much time left before catching my bus back to Mongla, he told me to jump on the back of his bike and off we went, like two kids riding through the town. It was so fun, yet so uncomfortable! He invited me to his village and to meet his family. Everyone was so nice and welcoming. He just wanted to show me off to his friends and family. He proudly introduced me, every time he would bump into a friend or a relative, as his "Bhaia", his big brother. It was quite moving when I had to leave. He hugged me and said I made his day and that he was the happiest to have met me. He didnt want to let me go.

A bit out of order, but on my second day, as I was walking around, this young shop owner calls me over to offer me a cup of tea. I was tired of walking and also tired of rejecting everyone's invitation to sit down for a free cup of tea. So I said yes. His name is Josim (pronounced Joshim). Very smily and happy guy. Not shy at all, and very proud of his shop. Sitting there, on a little wooden bench were two of his buddies and his uncle who is a doctor and a pharmacist across the dirt path. Yes, a doctor, that matters for three main reasons: 1) he was the first sick person I met in town, 2) he was totally drunk an hour later when he came back from his quick lunch, 3) after going through my camera, he looked around it, under it, tried to look through it, and finally said "there are lots of pictures in your small camera?!". A doctor! Apparently not really fully aware of the advantages of today's digital cameras. Hmmm...wouldn't want to be one of his a patient!

Soon after, this very old yet beautiful man came by to beg for money or a coffee. He only had a couple of teeth left. I instantly jokingly, after accepting to buy him a coffee, asked if he would rather I offer him a tooth. Everyone laughed so hard, him included. Got my camera out. His portrait was so priceless. Then I told Josim "no sugar for him in his coffee, don't want him to lose his last remaining teeth". Another round of laughs! I stayed about two hours at Josim's shop, chatting with everyone about life, love, family, football, and traveling.

I know I only spent 4 days in Mongla but it felt like I spent a lot more than that. Everywhere I would walk in town, everyone would wave at me as if I grew up in the town. I knew my way around, and many of the shop owners.

The last night was the night of celebrating international mother language day. Crucial day in the history of Bangladesh as its people went to war against Pakistan in 1952 to maintain Bangla as the "national" language of what used to be east Pakistan, while west Pakistan wanted to impose Urdu as the national language. Thousands of people died during this war. But it worked, even more so that years after that first war, Bangladesh even obtained its independence from Pakistan in 1971. So that night, at midnight, thus on February 21st, all of Bangladesh was unified as one to commemorate that special day.

Mongla was no exception. And the town site were it was all happening, and where all locals would go one by one to drop a flower on the symbolic statue, was literally right under by bedroom window. And trust me, these villages audio equipment is not of best quality and usually tends to have only two sound levels: off and extremely loud. So it was to be a long night.

At midnight, after hours of excruciatingly loud local music,  it all started. Chants, parades, screams of joy, flags, flowers, and more music. I just sat down on the bench of my balcony and watched from above. Being the only foreigner awake (Mr Aussie was seemingly asleep) I would probably have attracted more attention than the celebration itself, and my mother language not being there's might have perhaps led to some tensions...who knows.

At 1 :30am, when it has almost (to my surprise) all quieted down and most of the town had gone back to their house, this guy at ground level screams at me, thinking I am a local. No clue what he says. He tries again. I am thinking he must be drunk or high, so I ignore him again. Then he screams in English for me to please get someone to open the front gate as it is closed. Ah! Got it! Sorry! I wake the manager up. She throws the keys to the guy by the balcony. The guy walks up. Short, bulky guy, with red-died beard, early 50's. We start chatting. His English is really good, he is a seaman, actually works as the operations and logistics manager at the big harbor in the middle of the mangrove. I was so frustrated to meet him on my last night, as after he buys me diner at 2am, and spending half an hour chatting about life, the world and his kids studying on Canada, he offers me to tag along with him the next day to go hang out at the harbor and around the mangroves. Agrrrrr! So frustrated to have to say "no thank you" to such unbelievable opportunity. Oh well...such is life. Somehow, it only goes to show that life is full of hope and always has something better to throw at you.

The next day, I buy him breakfast, and we chat some more in his room. We shake hands like two very good friends, and both wished we could have spent more time together sharing experiences. And for sure, if I had gone to the harbor with him, he would have been so proud and thankful to me. Which is strange, as it should totally be the opposite.

Later that afternoon, after having one last tea with Josim and his friends, I cross the river on a little wooden boat, and get on a bus (literally on the rooftop again). Headed back to Khulna, to catch a night bus to Dhaka, with both my heart and camera filled with moving memories and inspiring encounters.

But one particular moment stands out more than the rest, more so for its comical side than its emotional side: my first hour in Bagerhat, as i was trying to sneak around the 60 dome mosque given how ridiculously high a price they were charging foreigners to get in,  and as i was walking along the giant magnificent lotus pond behind the mosque, i get approached by these 3 little kids who are asking for candies. I dont have any on me, and they are so beautiful and joyful, i feel bad. I search around in my bag, and find a small pack of Fisherman's Friend strong mints. As everyone knows (in the west), these are pretty strong, from western standards, but we are in Asia, the land of chili and spiciness. Mild is not a known concept in their cuisine. So what the hell, I give one to each of the kids, and right away this very old toothless, yet beautiful woman brings her hand towards me asking for a candy as well. Impossible to refuse her. I give her one.

They all look a bit shy and confused when seeing the white, strangely looking unknown candy laying in their hand. I mimed to them to go ahead and eat it...a few seconds later, the scene is beyond hilarious.

You know that reflex we, westerners, have when we put spicy/hot food in our mouth and we are slightly caught by surprise by the spiciness? We are kind of fanning our mouth with our hand (as if it were really going to do anything). Well, here they are, eyes tearing, fanning their mouth, and rubbing their nose as if they wanted to cut it off. Hilarious!!!! Yesssss! I finally got my revenge on all these times when I have asked naively in restaurants "please no spicy.".

Observation about Bangladesh: Bangladesh, urban and rural...has more schools and banks than central america has churches. Alarming fact as it talks not about the access to education but perhaps about the quality of the education provided.

I get back to Dhaka on February 22nd...

I love Bangladesh!

"Your country?!"

Literally, this is how every local in the street will approach you. No "hello!" Just straight up "your country!?" And when you answer them, they say thank you and then they go away satisfied, or for the most adventurous ones, they start small talk.

It is now 10:14pm, February 15th. I am sitting on a bench at the bus station, waiting for my 10:35pm night bus to Khulna, south Bangladesh.

We arrived in Bangladesh on Feb 1st, after 40 hours of train in india to go from Kerala to Kolkata, one quick nap at Sumita's house, and a quick flight from Kolkata to Dhaka. It has now been two weeks since we got here.

Most of our time has thus far been spent in Dhaka, the capital. But the first impression is of a country of extremes. Indeed, even more so than its neighbor India, Bangladesh is to me the most chaotic place, the dustiest and most polluted place, yet also the most welcoming place (perhaps a close tie with Indonesia Sulawesi and Sumatra) I have seen in my trip. Oh, and boy was I wrong when I thought that bus drivers I. Indonesia or India were the absolute craziest ones on the planet. Ufff! Bangladeshi bus drivers are by far, the craziest, and yet at the same time the most talented drivers ever. Give them a formula 1 car and these guys will crush any world records...

Curious detail about Bangladesh or at least the central region to date is the fact that is hasn't rained in months, and so leading to all of the suffocating pollution to cover pretty much every inch of surface in the landscape. From building facades, to plant and tree leaves, to windows, and vehicles. Basically, wherever you look other than along the river shores, it feels like an atomic bomb landed a while ago and nothing, dusty surface wise had ever been cleaned since then. A bit of a gloomy feeling...

Thanks to Mouli, we connected with her uncle, Dr Khan, an active low key and small scale philanthropic man who welcomed us with wide open arms and incredible hospitality...him and his whole family.

After spending a few days north of the city in the more recent suburbs, slowly lethargically adapting to the culture and chaos, and eating more food than our stomach could fit, Dr Khan hosted us for a few days further north, in the country side, in a small village (40,000 people!) Where he has been working on integrated social project to alleviate the poverty since the early 90's.

Oh, I forgot to mention, both Angelina and I really wanted to see Bangladesh, not from a tourism perspective, but purely from a social development work perspective.  So this has been the only focus of our stay here thus far. (Angelina actually flew back from Brazil tonight, after being on the road for 20 months! :'(  

So we spent 4 days in the village of Kanchanpur learning about the village culture and the work of Dr. Khan, as well as to some degrees, the work of BRAC and Grameen. Very interesting to see how when these three stakeholders are press and active in a same place, things do change. We even got to sit down for the whole duration of a Grameen collecting agent collecting the dues from all the Grameen borrowing women of the village; 78 of them! Quite an experience, especially when chatting with the collection agent afterwards...where we were told that Grameen bank is basically Apure for profit bank and that aside from making cash, they didn't actually really cares about the livelihoods of the villagers. And indeed, the whole season was solely focused on collecting cash. Not a second spent on checking in with the women about the health of their businesses, or even any kind of business or financial coaching. We also learnt that basically, Grameen's focus was to lock its borrowers into borrowing more and more and the minute they stop borrowing, Grameen drops them from their chart, wow! Am still trying to ask around about this as it seems to unreal and contrary to Grameem's mission to be true.

This village, or the Union of Kanchanpur to be more precise, is probably by very far, the most developed, organized, clean and beautiful rural farming village I have ever seen or imagined. And the people were just so unbelievably kind to us, and respectfully curious about us and our origins. We are now actually working on putting a crowd raise online fundraising initiative for Dr Khan to raise funds to put together a video documentary to showcase the social business mode! He has been working on for the past 20 years.

Did I mention that in two weeks here, walking around the streets of the center of the capital city, we have only see one foreigner!?

This country is not a tourism destination...and for obvious reasons...but travelers don't know what they are missing.

One thing I have learnt about traveling to Bangladesh is that being a fair-skin Brazilian woman is definitely a huge advantage to make friends all over. As strange as it might sound for a cricket worshipping culture as the Bangladeshi culture, apparently about 75% of the population are addicted fans of the Brazilian soccer team (the remaining 25% are addicted to the Argentina soccer team). Furthermore, being a highly conservative religious country, a white woman walking the streets attracts a lot of attention from the men for obvious reasons, but also from the women by pure admiration and fascination. So just a tip for the travelers out there...

The only disturbing and frustrating factor of our stay so far, and this I believe only applies to Dhaka, is the traffic. Dhaka is not a big city. From northern suburb to southern river shore, probably 20 km maximum. Yet, on good day, it will take between 1.5 to 2 hours by bus. And on a bad day, up to 3 hours!!!!!! One way! So yeah, upon returning from the village, we decided to set up camp downtown, in the more industrial yet super cultural area of Gulistan. Only 20 min walk from the river shores. And trust me, the shores are just an unbelievable spectacle of culture, colors, kindness, smiles, generations, etc...
Every morning, starting before dawn, and up to perhaps noon, there is a gigantic fruits and veggie market, on one side, and the transiting of all the produce from one side of the river to the other, by old wooden boat. We went two days in a raw and could never get enough.

And at night, the narrow river bed turns into the Venice of darkness. Hundreds of small wooden boats, ferry over back and forth passengers, by groups of about 6 to 8, from one bank of the river to the other, and for sole source of light, the moon and the stars, and sometimes, a cell phone here and there. Magical! And to top it all, these hundreds of tiny boats have to navigate back and forth zigzagging between the hundreds of gigantic long distance passenger ferry steamers, who also navigate for the most part, without light.

So obviously we had to do it...take a small boat and cross the river, and return. :-)

Since around the world Bangladesh is synonym with micro credit and Grameen bank, and since both Angelina and I had come here to see the Grameen phenomenon from closer, off course we made it to the center...first to pay our fees for the social business lab to come, and then to chat a bit with some people around the place about the work of Grameen in the social business area. A few hours later we were visiting s tiny company of 7 people working out of the basement/parking garage of this car dealership...and all 4 of them blind, getting a second chance on life by being employed for the first time and not having to beg anymore. Oh, and these 7 people are basically manually binding note books...500 notebooks per day!

(Gosh! Am now sitting in the bus en route to Khulna. It's 11:30pm. I thought I was going to be able to sleep through the 10 hours journey. Ha! Yeah right! My seat is right behind the driver, on the aisle side, for more leg room. But the front row seats are separated from the driver area by a width wide solid thick metal fence, like the ones you see on TV on the buses used to carry prisoners to the jails. I guess given the way the drivers drives, it is jus a way to protect us from any violent crash and to fly through the wind shield. Really!?)

Valentines day yesterday was quite a cute and funny occurring to watch throughout the city. Both conservative Hindus and Muslims both bought quite much into this now commercial pseudo lovers day. People walking around flowers in hand, and with some red tough on their outfit, and for once, looking like actual coupes and not total strangers whose behaviors are daily ruled by the conservatism of religions.

Today was quite a special day. Not only was it Angelina's last day on her long world journey, and we both attended Yunus Center social business design lab all day, learning more about small pseudo social business ideas, about the way Grameen actually goes about social businesses, and also meeting inspiring and interesting people from different parts of the world. What a fantastic way for Angelina to end her trip, and for me to perhaps transition into the second part of my journey, and where social business will most definitely play a bigger role and give me a lot to think about for my post journey plans and ambitions. So let's see...

Anyhow...it is now late, my tablet battery level is almost empty, and the bus driver is going crazier and crazier, so time to closer the tablet, and try to focus on not focusing on the road and the unbelievable speed at which the driver is zigzagging through the road at night and after the rain.

Just one last fun fact about Dhaka thus far: the technique to get on a bus here is the same as the technique to surf a wave...when you see the bus getting close, start running...and then jump on.

Oh, and if you want to make a nice gift to a random local in the street, just shake his hand in public. :-)

Amma's ashram...and the backwaters of Kerala.

...and the backwaters of Kerala.

February 2nd, 5:31pm...I am laying down on my bed in Dhaka, Bangladesh, finally catching up a bit with my blog.

When landing in Mumbai after spending the holidays in Morocco with my family, the plan was simple: meet up with Angelina, go check out the tea plantations, ruins and boulders hills, and the backwaters of south India, and then go with the flow and see where it takes us.

My only longer term plan was that for my 34th birthday, I wanted to be taking my 2nd course in Rajasthan, or in Pokara. So I had from January 10th to march 1st to travel around.

Since both Angelina and I really wanted to see Bangladesh, and since both our India visas were to end the first week of march, it made sense to try and squeeze Bangladesh in February and take advantage of it to renew our visas.

So, our last stop in south India would be the famous backwaters...

After reading the forums, we decided on Alleppey as our destination. Very touristy, yes, but the most central and recommended location.

Arriving by boat from Kottayam into the little town of Alleppey was just gorgeous, a little channel of water filled with water lilies and lotuses forming like a carpet floating above the water, and covered by gigantic ancient trees. Spectacular!

Aside from the channel of water itself, the town is nothing special. The usual noisy and dusty traffic with rickshaws, cars and people overcrowding the partially paved roads.

We quickly found a place and headed to the ocean beach on the other side of town. 20 minutes of bus later we arrive at this gigantic and plain broad sandy beach. Not a tree nor anything else to hide from the sun. Only sand...and garbage EVERYWHERE!!! Scandalous. And the worst part, not a single trash can around. (On the way back, I was unable to find a single trash can neither at the beach, nor in the bus, nor in the town. I had to wait to get to the guest house to through my plastic bottle!!!)

Though she we arrived the beach was pretty empty, soon after, and just as the sun was setting, it suddenly filled up so quickly, that it felt almost over crowded. Very strange.

Since we were unsuccessful in booking a canoeing trip for the next day, we packed up and decided to be as curious as can be and headed out the next morning to an ashram further south. The ashram of the renown Hugging Mother, in Amrita.

Hmm...I think the unplanned 5 days we spent in this ashram will leave me thinking and reflecting on this experience for many many years.

When arriving by bus in this tiny "village/bus stop" on the sea side, and after walking in a tiny little alley, we got to the front gate of the ashram, we were both speechless by how inspiring and surreal the place seemed like.

Thousands of people from all over the world walking around, dressed in white cotton clothes for the most part, and looking so peaceful and relax. Beautiful temples. Delicious cafeterias. More than decent room on the 7th floor of one of the three or four 15 floor buildings of the ashram. A swimming pool. A beach. Yoga. Meditation. Chants. Thousands of people lining up to receive a hug from Amma, meditation on the beach at sunrise and sunset...

Almost like how heaven is portrayed in many movies or cartoons.

So you can only imagine how we felt when we arrived.

And plus, we were showed a video about all the charity work that Amma, the guru, was involved with, which made us even happier as to the potential for us to get involved and learn and help during our stay.

Hmmm...given both our experience in traveling and spirituality, it didn't take Angelina and I long to discover the other side of the coin.

If all the foreigners seemed to be on their own little clouds the locals were all so not welcoming and actually quite cold.

It was shocking to observe how devoted and passionate people around us were about Amma, and how they put her on such a high pedestal.

The atmosphere didn't feel healthy at all.

And the more we read the literature available onsite and the worse it got.

Some literature publicly displayed in big all over the place even said something like: "You don't need life nor death, you don't need suffering nor happiness, you don't need love nor hatred, you don't need family nor friend. All you need is Amma's love." Or "Serving Amma is serving God." Yet, you could also read "We are all equal, and all one. God is in each one of us. The world should be about oneness."

Ufffff!!!! It was actually kind of scary at the beginning to be there and realize all this cult like blinded behavior that was going on. But then it just made us laugh.

Everyone is different. Some people are stronger and others are weaker. We each need different things to help us go through the ups and downs of life. For myself, I have learned that self confidence is key. Others need God. And that's OK. I have now accepted this fact. I only wish those people would rather take full control of their life rather than putting it into the hands of someone else.

3,000 people are permanently residing in this ashram, of which about half are foreigners!

Amma, through her NGO Embracing The World, has donated hundreds of millions of dollars to India and to other developing countries to help with causes such as natural catastrophes, education, women empowerment, health, hygiene..., and environmental awareness and development. And guess what? As soon as you walk out then gates of the ashram, all you see on the beach, on the paths, and in the village, garbage, plastic, cans, paper...all over...and guess what else? Not a single trash can!!!!!!!

The worst part is that the ashram is publicly proudly promoting its huge recycling and compost centers...and yet, it has done absolutely nothing to provide help or education to it village about environmental protection. Absolutely shameful!

And when we asked "why?" The response we got from the person in charge of the recycling center was "it's all about politics. The villagers and the district government do not approve of the ashram's presence in the village nor about its work, so Amma is playing the political game of patience and lobbying". Which, when you read the literature of the ashram, you realize it is just a another lie, as apparently Amma is a close friend of the national and the district governments and is continuously rewarded and praised by the government for her good work. Very strangely suspicious I say.

Angelina and I decided to go outside the gates and pick up all the liter on the beach and near the fishermen's area one morning. When we wanted to repeat this and get people to join is the next day

Oh, and another frustrating and suspicious thing was that of all the numerous organizations and initiatives that Amma is chairing and involved with, absolutely no one in the ashram was able to give us a piece of information. Even worse, no one seemed even aware of these organizations or initiatives.

The feeling we got is that people just land in this ashram. Drop their bags. Close their eyes and ears to anything else that's happening outside of their sight and daily life within the ashram...and they blindly devote themselves to loving and serving Amma.

The funny part is that one of the ashram rule is to serve at least an hour per day. Whether helping clean the room, cook, composting, sorting at the recycling center, guide new comers...but at least one hour per day of selfless service. But here is the catch: since you are only serving to help the ashram sustain, you are actually doing nothing at all for people outside the ashram, and only contributing to making the ashram good, clean and functional place to leave...for others but also for you. So not really selfless actually...and even worse...that way Amma does not have to spend a dime on the maintenance of the place. Perhaps only on water and electricity...but that she compensates with the $5 she charges per person per day for accommodation and basic food.

So great business model Amma.

I don't know enough about the whole business of this ashram and the other things Amma is involved with, but it does seem like another one of those sect scams. To be further researched...

One thing that got me thinking though, is to understand what the purpose of an ashram is supposed to be. Not having been to any other ashram before, I don't have much of a comparison base.

Is the purpose to totally disconnect with the reality of the world, and live in a surreal spiritual environment until you manage to find your balance and inner peace and strength? Is the purpose to spend your time focusing on yourself and facing and solving your personal life issues? If the purpose of an ashram is aiming in that direction, then the center of attention that should be promoted all over is YOU, and not Amma, no?

But if the purpose of an ashram is to learn to live in the community totally secluded from the reality of the world, without much awareness of the actual context of the culture and the location is ashram in on, all the while joining a whole new minority religion of which you can only see the benefits because of the seclusion of the ashram, then I guess this ashram is doing it all right.

Although, one open and strong minded person could also very well decide to spend some amount of time in this ashram in order to take full advantage of the facilities while successfully blocking out all the sect like processes and behaviors. In that case, the place would be like as mini very affordable resort to resource yourself and meet new people.

I guess I now really want to see more ashrams in order to better understand.

Munnar or the tea plantations of south india...

January 21st, 9:02am...we have been sitting in a public bus headed toward Kottayam since 6am.

Munnar is what we could call a hill station. Perched at about 1,500 meters of altitude, and mostly surrounded by thousands of hectares of tea, cardamon and black pepper plantations all around as far as the eye can see.

When arriving in the relatively small yet beautiful town of Munnar, what caught my attention at first was its center displays a huge catholic church, a huge mosque, and a huge Hindu temple. It is the first time that I see such massive religious temples representing both three faiths, in such a tiny location.

I thought I had seen what tea plantations are supposed to look like when I trekked to Hsipaw in Burma last year. Well, I was quite wrong. Munnar and its surrounding area in that part of India display such a fascinating and also artistic kind of tea plantation structure. From afar it looks as if someone had painted the whole valleys with a huge paintbrush leaving lush green trails of each hair of the brush on the canvas. I can easily see Van Gogh get inspires buy such sight!

Given the size of the town and the fact that apparently we were there during some sort of high season, finding a place to stay was no easy business...but we found one. The good thing about such topography is that even though the place is filled with tourists, you almost never feel that way.

Our first day we wandered around and headed to a trekk we had been suggested. 12km. About 25% of the way into the trekk, a local stops by us with his ca and offers to give us a ride down the road. Why not?!
It so happened that this guy was a plantation owner on his way home. So he offered to drive us as far as he could while still on his way, and took pleasure in telling us about the area and sowing us what fresh pepper and cardamon trees look like. The cardamon trees were such a surprise. I would never had imagined that cardamon grew that way!

After a good half hour he dropped us off on the side of the road.

The location we thought he had dropped off had nothing to do with where we thought he had dropped us off...a small tiny little factor, yet of major importance, we neglected on the little map we got from the tourist office was "the map is not at the right scale". Oh boy! I think that reading the map was more confusing than not having any map at all!

So we walked for quite a while until we found a village with a bus stop and decided to not fool ourselves with the distances suggested by the map, in order to not arrive after sun down. Waiting for the bus on the side of the road was a lot of fun. We were probably the very first foreigners trying to catch a bus from that location. So you can imagine the face of the locals when they saw us, hanging out there with our cameras and our bandanas. But interactions started quite fast and was quite fun.

Back in town and after a long time, I went out, at night...not much street lighting around town at all, trying to find a scooter to rent so we could head out at dawn the next morning to catch the sunrise at what they call Top Station, 35km away.

Perhaps due to high tourism, but the locals were far from being the nicest people...far. It took me a couple of hours to find someone who was kind enough and helpful and willing to rent me a scooter. The process was actually funny, as because the seat would not lock up, we first tried to fix it at a sop next door, but since that didn't work, we ended up going all the way up the hill and to his house. It was freezing and I had no idea it would take so long. But I got a scooter finally! :-)

The 35 km the next morning was a real challenge. Not only was it dark and cold, but the road was a real mess. Potholes all over the place, and zig zagging all along and around the hills...to arrive at the view point location...entirely clogged by the fog and clouds. Though it was kind of nice to be above the clouds, it was a potty that all we could see was clouds. But lucky us, aside from a couple of teenage locals, we were the only ones there for a good two hours.

On the way back, snacking and drinking hot chai along the road dominating the valleys of plantations wasa real treat.

After a while, we found a beautiful spot with a huge flat rock in the middle of a plantation and on the hill side, overlooking the valley. So we stopped there to eat some fruits and meditate for an hour. Wow! Priceless! We even needed up taking a nap on that same rock, in the sun.

Munnar is a beautiful place, but because of its size, and touristy crowd, it does not really call for a long stay. So after two days, we had enough and took off...to the backwaters of Kerala!