Christmas?

Me with three AUW students at Durga Puja in October

Well, I have several completely overdue posts to write. I think I'll separate them by time/theme and instead of just writing one long one, will give just a few shorter updates.

So, One thing that I never got a chance to write about is Durga Puja. For those of you who follow Dan's Travel Blog you may have already heard his perspective on the whole matter, and seen some of his fabulous photos (definitely worth checking out if you haven't already).

So the whole evening started with a trip to Tava, a nice restaurant here in Chittagong. Tava is right above an ATM, and since Dan and I were out of money at this point I ran down to the ATM before we had to pay the bill. So when Denise, Dan and I decided that we were going to try to go to Durga Puja, I decided that the best plan of action would be to take my newly acquired wad of cash and hide it in my bra. I'll leave it at that and spare you all the sweaty details, but just inform you that this was a brilliant idea on my part and saved me many moments of anxiety throughout the remainder of the evening.

Me, Dan, Eva, and Denise in a CNG on the way to Tava

Denise and Dan and I had been hearing all weekend about "durga puja" this and "durga puja" that. Now, I'm no stranger to Hindu festivals. Some of my old blog posts from when I was in India will give insight into my experiences with Hinduism and Hindu festivals. However, Durga Puja isn't celebrated in the South of India at all, so I knew nothing about it. After the fact I found that it is actually most widely (or wildly) celebrated in certain parts of India, Bangladesh, and Nepal.

Since Bangladesh is a Muslim country, and Chittagong is a fairly Muslim city (I only have occasional encounters with Buddhists, Christians, or Hindus), Denise, Dan and I had no idea where to go to celebrate Durga Puja. On the previous night we had taken a CNG from the airport to AUW and had seen several Durga statues, but had no idea how to get to them. We tried asking the waiters at Tava, but they just told us they were Muslim, and that Durga Puja was only celebrated by Hindus (as a side note- the latter part of this statement turned out to be untrue in the end; many muslims celebrate Durga Puja). So, in a moment of desperation Denise, Dan and I went down to the road, hailed a CNG and said: Durga Puja?! This would be like going to a yellow taxi in the states on the 25th of December and saying: Christmas? Luckily for us the CNG driver simply laughed and motioned for us to get in. Even more luckily for us he actually took us to a raging hopping Durga Puja somewhere near to where we lived. AND, as our luck continued, practically the moment we clambered out of our CNG we ran into three AUW students who were eager to show us the ropes.

So while in India I had many amazing, awe-inspiring, sometimes frantic, sometimes chaotic, sometimes even scary experiences at Hindu festivals. But, nothing I experienced in India prepared me for what I was about to encounter here in Chittagong. The first major difference between what I had experienced in India and what I was soon to experience in Chittagong was that the entire temple was segregated by sex. So right off the bat Dan was separated from us. I had planned on walking him through the steps (perhaps literally) of going to a Hindu temple. Unlike most Buddhist temples I've been to, Hindu temples are far less strict about where you can go, what you can do, what you should do, how you do it, etc. Usually in Hinduism it's more about the thought than the action. However, there are still some basic rules- like no wearing shoes, no entering the sanctum sanctorum unless you're invited, etc. Plus there are some things you can do if you want to enhance your experience a little bit. As soon as I realized that Dan was going to be on his own (or rather, surrounded by throngs of eager Bengali men instead of me) I just yelled to him over the general melee at the temple steps, "Just do what everyone else does!" and we parted ways, without a way of finding each other or communicating.

Durga slaying the demon

So the major difference between the festivals I've been to in South India and Durga Puja in Chittagong is that there was dancing! And actually, there was a lot of dancing! So we entered the temple and at the front they had set up a temporary altar with Durga slaying the demon on it. There were also some other statues- like Ganesh, and Saraswati- but Durga was definitely center stage. Also, the entire inside was a basic dance party. Since this whole event was so long ago, I'm still a little vague on the details. What I do remember is that we went to several temples. Some of them had drummers, some of them blared disco music, but every single one was a dance party. I could sometimes see Dan's mop of blonde hair standing tall surrounded by Bengali men behind me, but he was mostly on his own this whole time.

Three AUW students at Durga Puja

I definitely hadn't planned on dancing, and I have to admit that when I saw many women- young and old- dancing at the front in front of the alter, there was a part of me that felt like retreating. But, when I got up there a tiny little girl took my hand and wanted to dance with me. Because I can't say no to children I started dancing with her. This inevitably led to my being spotted by a teenage girl who grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the crowed of sweaty dancing women. They were all having so much fun, and laughing and spinning around. There were little girls who couldn't have been older than 5, and old women who were probably in their 80s, and they were all dancing. I remember at one point when we decided to leave to go to the next temple a young teenage girl grabbed my wrists and wouldn't let me go. She was pleading with me in Bangla and I felt really uncomfortable with her. But, luckily for me, I had three amazing AUW student body-guards who immediately stepped in and came to my defense.

Fire at the altar

Sometimes we would take a CNG from one temple to the next, but mostly we walked through streets that had been closed to traffic and were covered in twinkle lights. There were food and toy vendors all over- which just added to the beautiful chaotic rhythm that night. At a few points there were men selling bubble blowers, so the whole street would be filled with bubbles.

I got home completely exhausted and covered in sweat from so much dancing. Dan seemed to have a good time, with the exception of getting his glasses stolen. We're still working on getting them replaced. Luckily we live in Bangladesh where a trip to the eye doctor is something like 7 dollars, and a pair of glasses is something like 14 dollars.

Wow, this post didn't turn out nearly as short as I thought it would! But, I guess it was just a really memorable evening.