I have been very fortunate thus far, but yesterday it struck -- the culture shock. I have had my good days, and my not so good days, but yesterday was a bad day.

Clara and I headed out of the house with the simple task of finding some film for our camera. I had mapped out my route, and knew what the store looked like because Mark and I had been there previously. Clara is a wonderful traveler, and promptly fell asleep once we got out into the heat. The walk the shopping area is about 20 minutes, and I had already experienced the gawking and heat during other walks/errands.

The walk started out in a fairly typical manner. The streets are full of rickshaws and cars, each of them tinkling their bells or honking their horn when they pass (on either side of the street), just to let me know that they are there. Thanks.

Then there are the stares. They range from "hmmm, she looks a bit different", to having an entire family stand up and turn around in their rickshaw to gawk as they passed by. Most of the time people will stare, and then try to catch a glance of the pale baby as we walk by. It's OK if you know what to expect, and it isn't done in a threatening manner...all the same, it can get a little tiresome.

One of the other facts of life that you need to get used to very quickly when living here, is that you will be beckoned (madam/boss) for money (backsheesh) by beggars when walking down the street. It is an extremely uncomfortable, awkward, sad and frustrating situation to be put in. I haven't been here very long but have already been witness to a wide array of physical deformities, varying degrees of mental handicaps, as well as starving mothers holding their equally malnourished infants. Each time I walk by I feel staggering guilt and sadness. Sure, I can justify why I'm not giving them money, but it is only by the grace of God (and some pure, dumb luck) that I ended up being born into a loving, secure family in Canada.

Anyway...so I'm walking down the busy, noisy street in intense heat (about 33 degrees, plus humidity). Occasionally, I will pass by an area where the stench of sewage and/or rotting garbage is particularly bad. On top this, there are irregular 'sidewalks' to wrestle with while pushing Clara.

We live in a relatively quiet part of the city, and as I approached the shopping centre there was an increasing number of rickshaws, cars and people to negotiate. Dhaka is an intense place. After crossing a street and weaving my way through a crowd of rickshaws, I popped the front wheels of the stroller onto the sidewalk. Unfortunately, the sidewalk was very battered, and my front wheels happened to get momentarily stuck in one of the cracks. That was just enough time for a group of beggars to gather around the hapless western woman. So there I was, wrestling with the stroller in the heat, surrounded by stench, and a growing crowd of humanity who were thrusting various deformities and emaciated children in my face. I finally got myself unstuck, and proceeded as quickly as possible to where I thought the camera shop was located. I walked past where I thought the shop would be, but didn't see it. Still determined, I resolutely turned around and retraced my steps to see if I could find it. I still didn't see it. Rather than keep walking up and down the same block, I decided to cut my losses and head home.

The ultimate defeat of the morning came when I got the stroller stuck in the same place, in front of the same group of curious on-lookers.

Argh.

Once I was back on a more quiet street the tears started. It's a good thing that I always wear sunglasses, because otherwise everyone who stared would have seen a CRYING Western woman. I felt frustrated, humiliated and angry with the situation. My most coherent thought was, "What are we doing here?".

Rather than go back home to our apartment, I took a short detour to the International Club (IC). The IC is open to expatriates, and is a wonderful enclave. I ordered a Diet Coke and flipped through The Economist. Yes, there no other quicker, more effective way to feel like an expat than to sit under whirling fans, and sip a diet coke. I felt much more stable when I exited the IC than when I had entered.

So I had a tough morning, but everything seemed much more manageable once we arrived safely back at home. I WILL be searching for some film again soon! ;-)

Today has been much better. We had our drapes and upholstery delivered and installed last night. Now our lovely apartment seems much more permanent and 'homey'. Clara and I went out again this morning...this time we went to a toddler music group. We sat around with rattles, tambourines, castanets, drums and music books and sang children's songs. Tomorrow we will go to a gathering of women with babies, and on Thursday I'm going to lunch with 3 other youngish, first-time moms.

I think that the key to being happy in Dhaka is to have an excellent husband who will listen and empathize, to have a beautiful baby daughter, to develop a social network, and to moderate the inevitable ebb and flow of emotions.

We are all healthy and coping well as a family. Clara is discovering her feet, as well as the fact that she can hold things in her hands...and everything that gets into her hands makes its way to her mouth! ;-)

I will be posting more photos very soon.

Before signing off, I would like to post some heart-felt congratulations on behalf of Mark, Clara and I. Congratulations to James and Diana on your recent engagement - we are looking forward to celebrating you marriage with you in February. Congratulations to Andrea on your promotion - I guess this means more perks at the Fairmont! Congratulations to Stephen and Natalie on your recent engagement AND to Stephen for successfully defending your thesis and completing your Masters.

I hope that this finds everyone well. Take care, much love from Brenda, Mark and Clara