Compassion

Today we took a seven hour train journey from Srimongal to Chittagong. It was sticky, sweaty, stinking, sweltering hell. But even in hell, I saw glimpses of heaven. For one thing, six of the seven hours took us though alternating scenes of rice paddy fields and children playing in lakes and rivers. The greenest greens I’ve ever seen.

But what really impressed me today was the compassion of the Bangladeshi people. In any country I’ve ever been to - Canada included - beggars are the lowest of the lows. They are beaten, they are cursed, they are resented. At best, they are ignored (is this best?). But not here. Here money is placed into their hands with a caring squeeze and perhaps a blessing. At the train station, a young beggar boy climbed up beside our guide, grabbed his hand, and placed his head on Tapas’ shoulder. On the train, a man named Madmun tried to create a seat for another young boy to lie down and sleep. All day long on the train, the beggars came up and down the isles and the passengers’ wallets kept opening.

I think we have some things to learn.

 

PS - I know I still need to post about Dhaka... and I will.  Tomorrow.  Give me a break.  I just got internet access :).