Trapped on a Boat Day 3

We’re sad to say this this will be our final “Trapped on a boat” entry. Although seemingly hilarious (and at times it was) it was also somewhat traumatic and we’d like to leave this chapter behind us. We’re fine- we’ve moved on. It was just hard plain and simple.

   We have several more “Insults” to share as well as “insights” so stay with us.

Insult #7- Bag stealer.  We were finding it more and more difficult to take notes during the presentations. As much as we’re sure they do speak English, the thick accent, stuttering, muttering and general lack of flow to the delivery made it very very difficult.  We actually had a good laugh one afternoon when we attempted to read the sentences that we had word for word written down. Pretty ridiculous. Because of this, we decided that sitting directly across from the presenters would give us a leg up, since that way we could at least try to lip read. 

 Heidi placed our two conference bags on the chairs to reserve them and went to get some tea. Upon returning, we sad down to our computers and got ready to assume our scribe position.  Then Bag Stealer showed up, also known as “BS”- feel free to interpret this any way you would like.  It went something like this.

           

BS reaches down and grabs Ricki’s bag that she is practically sitting on. Ricki looking surprised looks at BS. BS asks, “ Is this your bag?” Ricki responds “yes”. BS begins walking away while riffling through Ricki’s bag. Ricki (a little more forcefully states), “ Excuse me, it is still my bag”. BS begrudgingly tosses the bag back into Ricki’s lap.

Once again confused, we take up our post and begin taking notes.

Insult #8 Demoted to Second Class.

            We are taking refuge in our room when we receive a knock on our door and suddenly there are 5 men standing in our very small room. We are informed that we must pack up our things a move to second class.  We were earlier told that “Second class is not safe for you madamme”- but now suddenly it is. And we’re fine with the move- really. But there are now 5 men standing in our room staring at us. It’s awkward so we clearly acknowledge that we understand and could we please have some space as we pack our things. So we move- traipsing through a sea of people who have shawls and blankets on the floor, setting up camp for the night.  Now let us be clear- we ABSOLUTELY are fine with moving rooms, and we ABSOLUTELY understand how privileged we are to have a bed at all, when these people don’t.

But we weren’t fine with moving because some crabby women complained that

“The students shouldn’t have a first class room”, and “ why do I have to have a second class room when they get a first class room”… (on and on etc. etc). 

            We are eventually shown our space and are left a lone for a moment. We now are sharing a small bed- as hard as an ironing board, with only one small thin blanket to share between us. There was also no glass on the windows and we were facing the deck of the ship so knew we were going to be mighty cold that night.  We also immediately put into place a plan to dehydrate ourselves starting asap since getting to one of the few bathrooms on board would be nearly impossible during the night. When we first arrived at our room, the sea of people parted, but we knew that at night, there would be no parting of the seas and we would literally have to step on numerous human beings to get through- not an option.  We also had to consider further “Bathroom Psychology” when making these decisions. We sleep in tights and fitted thermal shirts- definitely NOT appropriate Muslim attire. So, if we were to need the bathroom in the night, we would first have to change our clothes in order to be considered appropriate enough to come out of our rooms. This was taking it to far and thank goodness we did not have to use the washroom that night.

Insult #9 Earlier that same evening, Heidi approached “Pinky” (who was also delegated the PR person for the retreat) and asked if there was any way we could have an extra blanket for the night- since we were sure it would be quite cold. Never once did we complain about our accommodations, or request a transfer- we breathed not a word of distain or frustration.  But as is common in Bangladeshi culture- like the game of telephone- the simple request spun out of control. 

Suddenly we were dragged to room 12 in First Class and forcefully asked “Do you want this room”? Meanwhile there are people already occupying the room. Heidi, hoping for some clarification as to why we were being asked to move again, went to see the event coordinator. Upon her return, Pinky (with his back turned to Heidi) states, “ Well Ricki, since Heidi has such a big problem bla bla…” After which Heidi abruptly cuts him off asking for him to speak to her if he has a problem.  He throws up his hands and aggressively states “ What’s the problem? You are both always so hard to please…”. At this point Heidi asks for just a few moments to think and Pinky responds (like a parent to a child) “You have 2 minutes to decide”.  Heidi (losing it by this point) states as forcefully back “FINE” and we exit to room to get some air on the deck in order to suppress our homicidal thoughts.

We are followed momentarily by Pinky, his entourage, as well as the chief chair and speaker of the retreat (how embarrassing).  Basically he went on and on about our unhappiness and our safety etc etc.  Heidi clarified that “We were fine, just fine we only wanted an extra blanket- that’s it, that’s all, and that we weren’t sure why we were being asked to move again in the first place.  To this we were informed that well, now actually there wasn’t an option to move because the 2 guys they were trying to kick out of their room for our sakes were refusing to move.

  We retreated to our room an hour later defeated and (Heidi) in tears. What a brutal end to the day.  Heidi confesses that yes, during the last session she did in fact tear a small square of tablecloth off and rip it into as many pieces she could- last resort coping strategy. Only mildly effective, but it was all she had.

In the end no extra blanket was to be found (actually, there were extra blankets, but the women In first class were hording them), and Jim- another foreign volunteer at our university graciously shared the blanket he had brought from home- at his own expense. Our sleep was cold and hard. People in Bangladesh LOVE their mobile phones and MUST keep their ring tones set on the most annoying and loudest setting possible. SO throughout the night, we were wakened to these sounds over and over and over.

Finally, Insult #10 came with another ridiculous conversation had with one of the members of the retreat- now of the opposite sex.  Up until this point he had played it cool, been quite sweet to us, and actually had intelligent things to say during the session. But that bubble was burst pretty quickly as he sat down beside us. The conversation started like EVERY conversation starts with “What country do you come from”? Answer, “Canada”. Next question, “ Do you have a masters”? Answer, “No”. Follow by, “Well I do!” which leads into a DETAILS list of how many degrees and when they were obtained, and from where they were obtained, and when and where he got his masters (self promotion is one of the most annoying things to have to sit and listen to) etc. etc. etc. 

We responded politely (although by this point our stamina to play these games was on it’s last thread) and congratulated him on his achievements. This lead into a him informing us that we really ought to register with the BNC (Bangladesh Nursing Council) if we want to work in Bangladesh. As an aside, the BNC is nothing like the Canadian equivalent. It’s simple a corrupt, bribe run organization which does absolutely nothing to help propagate the Nursing Profession. If fact it works to inhibit growth. So clearly at this point he still thinks we are students at this point. We inform him that we are not students and not to worry because we weren’t practicing in the clinical setting anyway. He continues to stress the fact that we really still should be registered. We assure him we’ll talk to Karen and he pushes the issue until Heidi’s ready to give him a knuckle sandwich.

 The conversation turns to our “teaching standards”. He stresses the importance of teaching the “Nursing Model” not the medical model (Duh) and that we really should be teaching at an International Standard (Obviously). We reassure him that having been educated in Canada we most definitely will teach current Nursing theory and strive to reach international teaching criteria. The last straw was when he questioned IUBAT’s ability to provide good nursing education (it is the very best of the best in Bangladesh- everyone knows it but no one wants to say it for fear of looking inferior). At this point, we were rescued by our dear friend Charlotte and again, worked to fight of the urges to throw him overboard.

 Seeing that 10 is a nice round number we will close this Third and final installation of “Trapped on a Boat”. Next post will be our “Insights”- a less sarcastic and more realistic reflection.

 Bye for now! Love Ricki and Heidi