Solar Eclipse

Some of you may have read that there was going to be a solar eclipse in this part of the world. Most articles highlighted the fact that it would be visible through India, China, and then the Pacific Ocean, with no mention given to us here in Bangladesh. But we all knew what to look for. So early on Wednesday morning we all met downstairs at the van and drove out to the future AUW site. AUW is currently located in a series of not-quite-finished-yet buildings here in Chittagong, but someday it will be housed on 100 acres of hilly land just outside of the city. The drive out there was pleasant- shopkeepers were just setting up shop, and we drove through what appeared to be a rickshaw colony just before we got to the gate to future AUW. Apparently whoever has the keys to the gate was still asleep, or possibly eating breakfast by this point, so we all got out of the van and walked a few hundred meters through the future AUW site.

At this point the site is nearly completely wild. There's a main dirt road that runs into the land a ways, and a few families living here and there along the road. Michelle pointed out to us where the property ended on the other side of a ravine. Apparently the AUW side of the ravine is completely picked dry because villagers come out and take whatever they can use- sticks and branches, plants, etc. So as we walked along we could see these little huts with wood fires in front, families making breakfast and dogs stretching to wake up.

Apparently like most of Bangladesh, the AUW site was nearly entirely clay- gray clay and red clay. Sometimes something that looked like a piece of schist would be in our path, but really it was just dried up clay that broke as soon as you put any pressure on it. What a job it will be for these engineers to come in here and figure out how to build a campus on this flood prone clay ridden area.

Zelda, Michelle's intrepid daughter, down in a ravine at the AUW campus.

So we got as far as the picture above and started to look for the sun. We then realized that we had walked ourselves into a kind of bowl where the hills around us were blocking out the sun. So we walked back on the dirt road a ways and stopped to wait for the clouds to clear and the eclipse to reveal itself. Unfortunately it's the monsoon in Bangladesh right now, so things are pretty cloudy. We had prepared a pin hole (actually, pen hole) camera, but couldn't get enough direct sunlight to actually cast a shadow.

Jalene, Zelda, and Denise working on our pin hole camera.

So despite many warnings to not look directly at the sun, we all wanted to know if we would be able to see it. The sky was completely filled with clouds, but they were moving quickly, and were layered, so we were hoping they would clear enough so that we could get a glimpse.

Sarah, Eva, Polly, Faheem, Meg, and Calvin, all theoretically avoiding looking directly at where we were hoping the sun would show itself.

In the end we did get a few glimpses of the eclipse. The clouds would break apart long enough for us all to say: "OOH LOOK! oh NO! Don't Look directly at it!" and then the clouds would pass in front of the sun again and we would be back to waiting. I did manage to get a few shots, mostly of clouds, but here's the best of them:

I know this looks like the moon, but it's actually the sun during the eclipse. I swear.

Even if we couldn't exactly see the eclipse, we could tell that it was getting darker instead of lighter out. Frogs and crickets came out in full force for a few minutes, and I felt satisfied.

Other than that things here have been pretty work centered for me. I've been recovering nicely from a little bit of a stomach thing I had going last week, and have been enjoying Bangladesh a lot. Two nights ago at 11pm a parade went down my street. I couldn't see it, but I could hear a whole loud brass section, drums, and people marching along and cheering. Then last night at about 11pm a concert started from somewhere in my neighborhood. South Asia seems to have a way of using speakers that is unknown in America. Basically I've found that the sound quality has no value compared to the sound quantity; the louder, the better. So last night the sounds of this concert filled my room- over the sound of the fan on high, over the sound of the dogs barking on the street and the cars honking from below. This lasted until I fell asleep at 1am, and continued for what I think was several hours after- I kept waking up and realizing that the music was still going, and then would fall back asleep, assured that Bangladesh water was just as I had left it when I fell asleep at 1am.

So I've been having some thoughts about life in Chittagong. At home in Anchorage the city butts against the hills and flows down to the inlet. There, 250,000 people do their best to keep nature at bay. Still, a spider creeps in to your house and dogs wake you up at night, barking at wandering bears. A car hits a moose and your friends all hear about it.

Here in Chittagong, again between hills and water, it's nature that's doing its best to keep the 3 and a half million people at bay in the jungle. We creep into ant hills, curl up and take a nap, and call it our bed. We put concrete where moss once grew, and act surprised to see it returning on our white washed walls and floors. Instead of a moose wandering into a city and trying to live skirting around traffic jams and construction sites, Chittagong is a city wandering into a jungle, unsuccessfully trying to force the wild life to submit to man-made boundaries and barriers.