I have to say, I am really enjoying taking baths. I was from a middle class family in Bangladesh and we certainly had showers, including water heated through our generator, but baths were not something I took part in. One, privacy is really bad in Bangladeshi families and there is bound to be someone knocking on the door or wanting you for something or another. You can’t just sit in a bathtub with bubbles for an hour- people will think you have gone ‘pagol’. Bathrooms are not as celebrated as they are in the West. They are the place for defecation and urination, something to be looked down upon, not one for luxurious, solitary down time either in a hot shower or caressing bath. I have explained to my husband how much I like it, but he doesn’t get it. Men see bodily cleaning only in terms of efficiency.
I find all these people getting killed in Bangladesh terrible, just for writing something about not believing in God. I am amazed at the freedom people have in saying what they want in this country. At a ‘dawat’ I was shocked to hear from educated Bangali people criticizing some of the murdered bloggers for stoking controversy through their writings. These are highly educated people. It shows we don’t really have the same culture of freedom. They are part of the problem and allow our leaders to blame the bloggers for their own deaths and encourage the extremists. Why would we appreciate and fight for freedoms if people get killed for saying what they think? But I know now that’s exactly why we should. Not that I’m going to say anything stupid- I want to visit Bangladesh from time to time and see my parents and family.
I joined a women’s prayer group at the local mosque. It’s really for social reasons. We get a room out the back and read some suras. I’ve only been once- it was OK but I was really embarrassed about not remembering some of the basic verses. I admit, sometime I just pretend in prayer and mouth the verses like I know them. It’s almost like Karaoke. I wish they had a screen with the words printed out so I didn’t have to pretend. They could also do with subtitles for some of the imams whose English is sometimes terrible. Next week I think I will take some food for the other sisters- one of the Lebanese sisters had baklava for all of us but I had nothing but a copy of my Koran. Not enough it seems.