10 58 pm, Dhaka, Bangladesh: more specifically; Kathalbagan at Grandma's
5 hours and half naps later, I'm here. This time, being here in Bangladesh doesn't feel like a dream, just a happening, like as if I walked out of my house in NJ and walked into the neighborhood of Kathalbagan, thousands of miles away.
When I think slightly about how long I'll be staying here, I get a little homesick. But this is my own voilition. I want to get used to doing what I want, for my own betterment .
It's cleaner here than before, less mosquitos certainly, but it's more empty as well. My grandma seems alone, and often is stuck in nostalgia. My mother and aunt thinks she's suffering from memory loss, but it only feels natural. My grandma has done so much in a third world patriarchal society; bought her own land, her own job, was the center of the family. Now she seems like all she has done is meaningless in the sight of her material end, and seems resigned to it, I don't think in a depressing way, but not in a certain way either.
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