If I get meowed at one more time whilest arguing with a rickshaw wallah over price for a ride one more time this week, I'm likely to let a curse word (or four) slip out! I just need to vent/rant about being treated like a rich kid in the middle of a muslim third world country. Just an hour ago, I was standing outside the Bagha (a British club in a section of town called Baridara). Being a white girl by myself on the street in the evening, the wonderful guard of the club (always a remarkable gentlemen) was helping me get a rickshaw home. The wallah came over, I asked him in Bangla if he had change, ''Bai, bente asi?'' He asked how much change I wanted. I asked for 20 taka (only needing to pay him 30 taka to get back to my neighborhood, DOHS Baridara a.k.a. the foreigner area). He scauffed and said, ''You pay me 50.'' I said, ''That Badeshi price, Bai, I pay you maybe 35.'' He replied with, ''You English. You pay 50. Bangladeshi pay 35. You English.'' As I was wanting to yell at him and ask if white people somehow weigh more than Bangali people, the dred cry let out near by: ''Meeeoooooooww!''Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat. Hold up. I've heard this one before. On to the next wallah.
The next wallah, who was flashed a little smile from moi (in hopes that a lesser scene would be caused in front of all the gaping men on this street at this point), quickly agreed that I pay him 40 taka. Fine. Of course, ten minutes later, he demanded 50 outside of my home. When I pulled the Alla-is-watching-card, he stopped pretending that he had no change.
My friend Dave summed up the internal conflict of typical interactions with Bangladeshis on the street really, really well last night. We were talking about a question a new friend, Maffouz, had asked us. Dave said something like this: For us, being respected is being treated as an equal. That's Western thinking, but that's what we're used to. Here, we are respected by being called ''Boss'' and ''Madame'' by everyone in eyeshot of us. Thing is, I'm not anybody's boss. Truth is, I make so little money, I couldn't feed myself with it at home. Here it's a small fortune, but I'm just not a rich kid. Being looked at as only a chance for a handout.... sucks.
Then Fred (my pastor) shared how a beggar boy was following him home from the grocery store asking for 2 taka that day. Fred gave him something cooked to eat (probably cost 20 taka, 28 cents u.s.d.). The kid dropped it on the ground and kept on him for 2 taka.
Honestly, we laugh and play the ''You know you've lived here too long when...'' game, but this week someone behind me said, ''Madame!'' and I turned around like it was my name. I didn't think about it, but I thought/assumed they were talking to me. I make less than $9,000.00 here. That's my salary. There's straight up incredible provision for me as far as benefits and housing goes, and I'm even able to save money, but I just am not a rich kid. It's an adjustment I'm failing at.
Maffouz told us the story of when he first saw a white person (he grew up in Dhaka and just experienced a semester abroad in Michigan). He was about 8 when he saw a white person. He was with his dad, so he asked him, ''Why do they look like that?'' Miffouz' dad replied, ''They're white so they're really good. They're a good person. Their skin is light and pure. It's something in their skin.'' Miffouz described when he first saw a black person, too. He happened to be with his dad again, years later, and his dad's reply was, ''They're black, so they are a very good person. It's something in their skin.'' This is what brought on the whole conversation.... How are foreigners treated here? What is it like? He earnestly wanted to know and it was an interesting convo between 2 Englishmen, an Irishwoman, 4 Americans, a Bengladeshi man, and a Kiwi.
In this jumble of thought, I just now thought about my conversation with my dad this morning. He was telling me about some Muslim guy in Yemen who's telling Muslims worldwide to kill Christians. Dad said, as he usually does, ''So be really careful. Can you do that? Be careful not to stand out.'' Hahaha.... man. I stand out. I stand out like a sore thumb. The ''public'' in this town is like 90% men in any given place, at any given time (if not more) and I am Money Bags Madame to them.
Do what you can, with what you have, where you are. 
