Part 18: A Christmas Letter Unlike the Rest

December 23, 2022

Choyghoria, Batiaghata,

District Khulna, Bangladesh

I don’t remember the first time I saw one. It must have been on one of my first walks with Mama Cheryl around our village; those silvery days that are almost gone from my memory. I can’t remember how it happened, but I must have seen a line of them stacked neatly against some broken fence lining someone's property.

They looked a bit like giant corn dogs: a stick about three feet tall, with what looked like mud and hay squished around it in a beautiful crimped pattern. When I asked Mama Cheryl what they were, I found out that they were indeed not corndogs, nor was that mud squished onto those sticks. They were, in fact, something called borie, and the stuff that had been beautifully squished onto the sticks was gobor, cow poop. But what do they use them for? Decoration? No, they use these poo sticks to feed their cooking fires.

Perhaps I should have been repulsed by the revelation. Instead, I was entranced. I knew at once that I had to make one someday. I’ve seen thousands of poo sticks since that first time. They lean against everyone’s fences. They are neatly stacked in everyone’s barns. Many times I have watched sari-clad ladies squatting beside their mud chulas, carefully adjusting the poo stick to make the fire just right. I have seen thousands, and every time I saw one, I would say to myself, I’m going to make them someday.

Then finally, the other day, the lady who I've nicknamed “my favorite lady” came to me and said, “Do you want to make poo sticks? Come to my house Friday at ten o’clock and we will make them together!”

How does she know? I wondered to myself. Then, I remembered that I talk a lot, and I must have told her about my ambitions and desires in one of our many conversations. The only problem with our plan was the timing of it. Friday at ten o’clock is when we leave and go to our second Sunday School in the next village. Sunday School, where I lead singing.

I told Lisa of my plight. She didn’t even blink an eye. “Of course you can go make poo sticks! You go to Sunday School every time; it won’t hurt if you take a week off. Trevor can lead the singing this time!”

Friday morning came. I put on my oldest clothes and Brandi and I walked along the palm-lined, dirt pathway to Ronjon and Rita’s house. When we arrived, Rita was eating her breakfast. Of course, she sat Brandi and I down at the table and served us a plate of rice, fish, vegetables, and some kind of leafy slimy stuff. We had just finished breakfast, and neither of us wanted to eat. But, in Bangladesh, where food is love, you eat when you’re served. We did our best to clean out the plate. The food was top-notch. I even got the fish head! YUM!

(Do you remember the guy who informed me that I was “bhedy phat”? My favorite lady, Rita, happens to be his mom. It is his house to which we walked on that day; around his table where we dined. Sadly, he was not there to deliver any good news this time.)

Then, it was time for a dream to come true. Rita led us out behind the barn, stopping to tell everyone why we had come. I think she was more excited than us! We stopped when we reached a mountain of cow dung. “Here we are!” she proudly announced. “Get to building!”

“I don’t know how! You have to show me!” I told her. She seemed surprised to learn that we don’t do this kind of stuff in our country. I watched, wrapped in awe as my favorite lady squatted down and picked up a stick in one hand and a huge handful of cow dung in the other. Gracefully, (yes, gracefully,) she folded the stick from top to bottom with gobor. In a flash, it was finished. Now, it was my turn.

I chose a nice, sturdy stick, got the biggest handful of cow dung I could manage, and began. The pupil is never as skilled as the master. It took several tries to make mine presentable, but in the end, I had a nice poo stick in front of me that I built all by myself. I made four more, and lined them up one after the other against the fence. Rita insisted that mine were beautiful, but I don’t think she was telling the truth. Even days later when I went past her house, it was obvious which ones were mine!

Word spreads quickly in a small village, and within a few days, everyone knew what Brandi and I had done. We were met with mixed reactions. Some people thought we were crazy for wanting to do such things, and others were proud of us. I even got a hug from an old grandma over the deal. Most people just laughed in shock and amusement.

I know what you’re thinking. Did it stink? Weren’t you grossed out? Do they mix it with anything? And finally, WHY did you do it?

Did it stink? No. Not even a little bit. When I asked my favorite lady why it didn’t, she informed me that cow dung has no smell. I told her that in our country it sure does, and she wrinkled her brow and said “Why?” We decided it must be the difference in the cows’ diets.

Weren’t you grossed out? At first, the idea of putting my hands in a pile of that stuff did seem a little wrong. After I imagined it was just mud, it was a little more manageable. By the end, I had fully accepted what I was doing, and it didn’t bother me a bit!

Do they mix it with anything? NOOOOOO. It’s 100% natural, organic, and free-range. They don’t even mix it with hay like I had previously thought; it’s just leftovers from the cow’s dinner.

WHY did you do it? Why not? When else will I get the chance to immerse myself into another culture? I figure, as long as I’m here, I might as well be present and experience as many things as I can. Experiences become memories, and memories are golden, no matter how strange.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I wanted to write a cute Christmas letter, but then I ruined it with the above story. However, I feel it would be redundant to write a Christmas letter. After all, I’ve written all year. Shall I summarize all my letters into one grand one? No I shall not, for I haven’t the patience, nor the time, nor the energy. Too much has happened in 2022.

I guess this would be a good time to give you an update on life the past month. I don’t feel like I have too much to report on. However, January and February will be packed, so I’d best get November and December out of the way.

Thanksgiving was lovely. Daniel’s, Jared’s (the new Dhaka family who are in language class), Elwoods, and our family all went to Kelly’s house in Gopalgonj. We ate like royalty. Lanae got a beef from the market and “hammified” it. I didn’t know you could make beef taste like ham, but Lanae worked her magic and I would have been none the wiser! We also had mashed potatoes, butterhorns and honey butter, green bean casserole, and lettuce salad. I had the honor of making the main course, the “ham” gravy. For dessert, there was apple, pumpkin, pecan, and buttermilk pie. Was there ice cream? Probably, though I can’t remember.

December 12th was Shanto’s birthday. Shati didn’t feel like having a party for him, so they didn’t. Around 8:30 that evening, after we had all gathered around Whatsapp to sing to him, we decided that he needed a party. But it was late, and they eat and go to bed around 9 pm, so we decided not to do anything. Yet, it was his birthday, and you can’t just let a birthday go! We quickly decided to make a pot of coffee, whip up some no-bakes, and drive to their house for a surprise party for Shanto.

Trevor turned off the headlights as we approached their house, and just like that we were in sneak mode. As we were walking up to their house, we spotted Shati closing up the door to the goat shed. There were a lot of frantic whispers about ducking behind trees and not making any noise, not spilling the coffee or dropping the cookies, ect.

Whitney and I were in the back of the group when Shati turned around. She and I hit the deck, right there, in the middle of their brick pathway. Just then, someone decided to walk along said pathway. They turned on their flashlight so they could see these strange-looking boulders obstructing their path. A laugh erupted as they discovered that they were two giggling foreigners, and Whit looked up and said “Sorry, we’ve lost our minds”

Long story short, we ended up getting to their front gate undetected… by Shanto at least. Shati had to unlock the gate for us, and we walked up to the house singing Happy Birthday. Shanto looked and looked with his tired eyes, trying to take it all in. “Kalli, I’m sweating because I’m so excited!” he finally managed to say. Later, as we were serving coffee and cookies, I watched a tear sneak down his cheek. He told us it was a special night he will never forget as long as he lived.

____________

The other morning, as I sat on my balcony drinking my cup of coffee, I looked out to where our neighbor takes her goats to graze. There are two mama goats, each with a pair of kids. As the mama goats dined on the fine cuisine, the kids ran and jumped together.

On this particular morning, something else was lurking on the grassy slope. My eyes caught just a glimpse of it before it ducked behind a date palm. It looked like a backpack-laden school boy. But something was weird about his face. Surely not…

I kept looking. When I caught sight of him again, my suspicions were confirmed. This school boy was wearing a halloween mask: one of those plastic, all-white ones. He was slowly, soundlessly creeping up to where the goats peacefully grazed. Suddenly, he lurched at them, his hands contorted into awful shapes. The goats scattered, and I can only imagine the little boy smiled behind his mask.

I thought he would surely take it off after his mission had been accomplished, but he kept it on! Perhaps he was gathering courage to scare some cows…

____________

Last night, we had all five Khulna members over for a Christmas supper. We served them steak, chicken, and shrimp kabobs, twice-baked potatoes, green salad, and bread. For dessert, we had pie and christmas candies. We decorated the table with candles and greenery, though not from a pine tree. The greenery was cut from several of the lemon trees in our garden! Brother Kabir commented on the decorations: “This is like a 2 or 3-star hotel!” I’m not sure why he didn’t award us five stars????

What did everyone think of the strange American food? Some people did not like the pie, and made it very clear! I didn’t take any offense, and, since it was Hridoy and Antor who were choking and gagging on their pecan pie, I laughed until tears were falling. Overall, I think they enjoyed most of the food.

_____________

The rice fields are golden again and the harvest has begun. It’s so cold that I’ve been wearing slippers and blankets around the house. The water heater doesn’t even last long enough to warm up in the shower! When I see that the thermometer only reads in the 60s, I’m sure it’s broken. It must be 30* at the most. But, it’s so beautiful. The cold morning leaves dripping with dew are magical. The coffee cup to warm the hands during math class is lovely. And the no-sweating part is the best of all. I love winter, even if there is no snow to play in.

My family arrives on January 7! Dad, Mom, Justin & Tressa, and Grant & Greta will be here for ten days! I’m sad about the oldest one and her kids staying home, but oh well. I will bring Bangladesh home to them in several months.

When I told my favorite lady the good news, she announced to no one in particular: “Oh, we are about to see the joy on Kalli’s face as she shows her family around the village!” She then asked me how long it had been since I had seen them. When I told her it was about a year and a half, she said “Oh, I bet that feels like ten or twenty years, doesn’t it? That much time away from your family is not right.”

I’ll end it there. If you have been one to send me Christmas/Thanksgiving cards or messages or emails or anything this Christmas, a massive thank you! I’ve probably forgotten to reply personally, but please know that it truly means the world to me.

Merry Christmas!

-Kalli

Oooh, one more story. The other day, I was playing outside with Alif. I had drawn something in the sand and I asked him if he knew what it was. His toothy grin appeared and he said “Yeah, it’s a snowman!”

I was a little surprised that he knew. I guess he must have seen them on TV. “Have you ever built one?” I asked

“Yes, I built one just today, over there!” he pointed in the direction of his house. “We used mud from the pond. Mom gave us a carrot to use for the nose, and we put little rocks for the eyes. It was the size of a grapefruit, then an orange, then a guava.” He demonstrated the sizes of each fruit with his hands.

So, I guess if you aren’t having a white Christmas this year, you can always make a snowman using mud from the pond.