Knee deep in water
Yesterday, Matt and I went to Bolajpur to take pictures of a flooded area of Mymensingh. This area is where we did the puppet show last Thursday and there are many areas of this slum underwater. We never expected the excitement that two skinny white boys from Canada with cameras would engender, although in retrospect it is no surprise.
After taking a few pictures of houses up to 6 feet under water, we were approached by an older man, shirtless and so skinny his ribs protruded like knives from his sides, with tousled hair, a stereotypical blue plaid longhi (cotton tube skirt) and a little half smile. This man, whose name I still cannot manage to reproduce, beckoned us to follow him, down the dirt path, over a porch, directly to the river's edge.
"Okhane" (There), he said as he pointed to the middle of the river. "Ota apnar bari?" (Is that your house), I asked politely, full well knowing that it was. He replied and after a few more awkward questions I ascertained that this house of his, stranded like a twig in the middle of the stream, stuck under 4 feet of water, was flooded every year. And so after taking a few pictures I asked him about his family, and off we went, up the balcony and down the other side. (excerpt)
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