Straight Talk
The Bangladeshi Connection
It was a particularly long, hot summer's day and the sun was mercilessly beating down on us. We tried to find areas of shade as we walked down the long winding street but this was not an easy task as the number of tourists such as ourselves, was in their hundreds. On either side of the street there were souvenir shops, nestled between little clothes boutiques, ice cream shops and restaurants. There was no option but to walk at a leisurely pace weaving in and out of the sea of people and taking in our picturesque surroundings.
Our stroll came to an abrupt halt when my youngest daughter found a street vendor selling some rather bizarre looking toys. They were little pigs made of what I can only describe as a rubbery gelatinous substance and the vendor was throwing them from a reasonable height and with some considerable force onto the ground. Instead of exploding, these little pigs just went splat and then magically returned to their original shape not in the least bit worse for wear. Of course my daughter was captivated and very keen to acquire one of these toys. When we asked the gentleman how much they were he told us they were 2 Euros. My daughter said something to me in Bengali and immediately the street vendors eyes lit up.
“Are you from Bangladesh?” he asked and seemed delighted when we told him that we were and that we lived in London. There was the usual exchange of, “which part of Bangladesh” and “do you go back often” followed by surprise upon realising that my non Bangladeshi husband spoke fluent Bengali. He then refused to accept any money from us for the toy claiming that it was the least he could do seeing that we were “Nijer desher lok” (i.e. from his country). We of course insisted on paying him and although he was very reluctant at first to accept the money thankfully he took it in the end. He mentioned that there were quite a few Bangladeshi's living and working in the area pointing to some other men on the other side of the street. I enquired as to how life was for them and he said that they made enough money to live a relatively comfortable life. It was surprising as I had really not expected to bump into a whole community of Bangladeshi street vendors in the small town of Taormina in the east coast of Sicily!
It was humbling to think that someone whose livelihood was dependent on selling as many of these rather inexpensive toys as possible was generous enough to offer it to my daughter. I have found this generosity of spirit and sense of camaraderie in many Bangladeshis living and working abroad. They always seem pleased to meet you, invariably make friendly conversation and in fact seem so genuinely excited to talk to someone from the same part of the world that I always end up feeling quite touched.
I think that being hospitable is a trait that is inherent in most Bangladeshi's --- and one of the things we enjoy is to be able to feed people. This seems to extend even outside the confines of our home and into the workplace!
For example, there is a fast food place near our home in London that my children go to every now and then and there is a very pleasant young man who works behind the till. Upon learning that we were from Dhaka he asked if he could call me “Apu” (sister) as it made him happy to know we too were from his home town. Since then he has on numerous occasions given the children extra fries, larger drinks, deducted money from the total and despite me pleading with him not to, he insists on it as he says that it gives him pleasure to know that he is able to do something for us. Although the gesture is much appreciated, it is a bit difficult when you are not in a position to return the favour. All I can do is ask how he is doing, if his family is okay and enquire about his studies which he in turn seems to appreciate.
Similarly, during a short trip to Rome with my aunt and my cousins a few years ago, we found ourselves in a cafe near the famous Spanish Steps being served by a deshi waiter. Lo and behold, when he heard us speaking, he couldn't help telling us he was a fellow countryman and the next thing we knew, the slices of cake we had ordered with our tea and coffee had doubled in size.
Actually on the same trip we had a somewhat amusing encounter with a man selling jewellery near the cafe. Yes, he too was from back home, Sylhet to be precise and after a few minutes of establishing that we were a group of Bangladeshi women visiting Rome he became very suspicious and demanded to know if his wife had sent us to spy on him and see what he was doing. That was definitely a first for me! After our initial annoyance at the odd accusation, we found the situation rather amusing and the man in question realised how farfetched his claims had been and offered us his jewellery at a discounted price which we declined. Having been given a brief history of his life and how he came to be in Italy, we finally parted ways but it is still makes me smile when I think back on the incident.
Nowadays the Bangladeshi community seems to span the entire globe and no matter where you go it is very likely that you will bump into somebody who will make you feel at home wherever you may happen to be.
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