It turns out I have all the attributes I need to be a POI (person of interest, in a non-criminal way) in Bangladesh: pale skin, blonde hair, blue eyes, easy smile and willingness to be the common factor in what will likely be at least 1000 selfies by the end of this tour. Watch out Facebook, I’ll be going viral!?!

Dressed in my newly purchased Bangla-style overdress, my fabulous escort and shopping advisor and I turned up at East West University, Dhaka. Organised by WSDA, the Information Studies Department and Information Club, I was a keynote speaker for the IYS (International Youth Summit) 4^th Personal & Professional Development Conference. With some trepidation I entered the auditorium after spotting the human height event poster with my photo, right there, centre stage! Ushered to the front, the current speaker interjected “oh, you must be Sarah. Welcome!” So much for arriving incognito and allowing myself some people watching and scene settling. Ah, thik ache – as we say in Bangladesh – it’s ok.

Mr Ahmed Bari, Sir! had given me less than 24 hours notice of what I was to facilitate – though one must feel grateful for even that much (remembering some experiences of last tour).

One experience I should probably have been more prepared for, given I wrote about it in my 2019 notes, was standing at the end of the speaker’s time thinking to find where we were having lunch and being mobbed by young women, and a few men too, clammering for selfies with me. For women, I asked then put my arm around. Men, I ensured at least several centimetres’ gap. Who’s taking the photo? Oh, you’re joining in too? Thik ache. After the first run of upwards of 35 photos my smile began to feel forced. Maybe one of the WSDA support team noticed and came to lead me away. A few more sneaky-begged-last-minute shots ensued before I made my escape, calling “after” over my shoulder.

Lunch was delicious. More of the same: pilau rice with vege and chicken curries, this time with an egg and chopped cucumber and tomato. So tasty and not too hot for my tender tastebuds. I could eat this nutritious food all day. Most people in the faculty dining room (blessedly air conditioned) spoke great English, but we were too busy eating to talk much. Then I drifted into observation mode as the Bangla-chatting naturally arose.

It’s amazing how the fabulous people I’ve met here can effortlessly flow between Bangla and English. For me listening (and carefully taking in body language, facial expressions and tone, in attempts to catch a little of what’s going on), it feels like a sea of Bangla, interspersed by scattered white tops of English words. Sometimes I think I hear an English word, but by the time I’ve recognised that and tried to piece it into the puzzle they’ve well moved on. It’s rather exhausting doing this hour after hour – though maybe it’ll get easier over this 20 day tour.

In attempting to weave my sight and sound observations into solving the mystery of the conversation, I also try to pick out where each Bangla word starts and ends. This is tricky. It’s all said in one smooth ribbon flying sweetly on the breeze from their lips. Accuracy-hit-rate? I reckon my meaning-guesses are occasionally close to correct. I suspect mostly though I’m completely wrong! I’ve gotten pretty good at nodding, smiling and laughing at more-or-less the right moments, so I wonder whether people are thinking I’m understanding them far more than I am. Hmmm… is that a good thing???