Rickshaw Girl Read online

  “Who would have thought that a girl could be trained to work as a rickshaw painter?” Mother asked. “Times are certainly changing. Of course we’d never let Naima do this if the owner of the repair shop had been one of Hassan’s sons. It’s a good thing she turned out to be a daughter instead.”

  Just like me, Naima thought.

  She stretched out on her mat beside her sleeping sister, tiredness making her aware of every muscle that she had used during the day. In the flickering lamplight Father gently twisted the golden bangle over Mother’s outstretched hand. Once again, the tinkling melody of two bangles filled the hut. Naima smiled as she listened. Now the music that belonged to her family was going to last forever.

  Glossary of Bangla Words

  alpana: Girls and women paint these geometrical or floral patterns on the floor during celebrations and holidays. They use crushed rice powder to outline the design, and decorate with colored chalk, vermilion, flower petals, wheat, or lentil powder. Some designs are passed down from generation to generation for hundreds of years.

  a-re: A Bangla exclamation that means something like

  “Hey!” or “What’s going on around here?”

  Bangla: The national language of Bangladesh. Also, it’s the official language of West Bengal, a state in India, and the fourth most widely spoken language in the world.

  biryani: A slow-cooked, aromatic rice dish served on special occasions, usually mixed with lamb, chicken, or mutton. The savory fragrance comes from rose water, whole spices, and saffron.

  eesh: Depending on the speaker’s tone of voice, this Bangla exclamation means that something has happened that is shameful, disappointing, or disastrous.

  International Mother Language Day: Also called Ekushey February this is a national holiday celebrated on February 21st, that commemorates the first martyrs killed in Bangladesh’s struggle for independence from Pakistan. On February 21, 1952, police shot and killed several university students who were campaigning for the recognition of the Bangla language as one of the state languages of Pakistan. Bangladesh eventually gained independence from Pakistan in 1971.

  kurta: Boys and men wear this knee-length shirt over loose drawstring trousers called pajamas, or over a lungi.

  lungi: A man or boy wears this loop of cloth that hangs from the waist to the ankle, like a long skirt. He gathers the cloth in front at the waist, twists it into a half-knot, and tucks the ends in.

  rickshaw: This is a vehicle that people hire for transportation. In Bangladesh, it’s powered by a human being who pedals a cycle attached to a seat carrying passengers.

  roshogollah: These traditional Bengali treats are spongy white balls of sweetened cottage cheese drenched in syrup.

  salwar kameez: Girls wear this three-piece outfit that consists of a kameez, a long shirt or tunic, a salwar, or loose pajama-like trousers, and a dupatta, a long scarf or shawl.

  saree: A long garment made of five to six yards of cloth that a woman wraps, pleats, and tucks around her waist and then drapes over her shoulder. It’s usually worn over a tight-fitting blouse and a petticoat.

  tabla: Two drums, a smaller one made of wood and a larger one made of metal, covered with goat or cow skin and played with the fingers, palm, and heel of the hand.

  taka: The official currency of Bangladesh. One dollar was equal to sixty-four taka at the time of this writing.

  Author’s Note

  ASK SOMEONE on this side of the planet, “What do you know about the villages of Bangladesh?”

  You might hear an answer like this: “They’re desperately poor, densely populated, and frequently hit by cyclones and tidal waves.”

  Here’s what you should tell them: “You’d be surprised. There are treasures to discover in rural Bangladesh. You’ll stumble across jewels that aren’t for sale—emerald rice paddies, golden jute fields, ruby sunsets in a sapphire sky. There are pleasures, too, that you can’t buy—the hospitality and courtesy of village families, their artistic expressions of music, dance, drama, alpana painting, and rickshaw art. You’ll be encouraged, because you’ll see lives beginning to change, and families coming out of poverty for the first time in ages.”

  For countless generations my own ancestors lived and farmed jute in what is now Bangladesh. Although I was born in Kolkata, India, and raised in the United States, returning to rural Bangladesh felt strangely like a homecoming. During the three years that my husband and I lived in Dhaka, Bangladesh’s capital city, we learned about the many ways international relief and development workers are trying to fight poverty. One of the most successful efforts is in the field of microfinance, spearheaded mainly by Bangladeshis.

  What is microfinance? It’s setting up a fund so that a person can borrow small amounts of money and invest it in a way that makes more money. A borrower can buy a goat, for example, and sell the milk. Or she can purchase a bicycle so that someone in her family can work as a delivery person. Once she starts earning money from the investment, she pays the loans back at a fair interest rate so that more people in the village are able to borrow money from the fund. Studies show that, in general, women are better than men at investing a loan in a way that benefits the whole family. That’s why microfinance with a focus on women is a powerful weapon in the war against poverty.

  Before the funds were set up, traditional banks weren’t willing to risk a loan to someone who wasn’t already making money, especially to women who didn’t usually work outside of the home. A village woman’s only option was to approach the local moneylender, who usually charged high rates of interest. Her situation then grew even more desperate as she tried to pay the money back. Now, because of microfinance, women like the painter in Rickshaw Girl are able to borrow money, set up businesses, and hire and train apprentices like Naima.

  Girls in the villages of Bangladesh now have hope that they, too, can help their families, but there’s still a long way to go. If you want to get involved, please write to me via my website (www.mitaliperkins.com), and I’ll introduce you

  to good people on the frontlines who can use your help. I hope you enjoyed Naima’s story.

  Acknowledgments

  The authenticity of the alpanas in this book was verified by Madhusree Bose, my mother, who beautified our California home with the art, cooking, fashion, music, dance, and embroidery of Bengal.

  My father, Sailendra Nath Bose, told me countless tales of his boyhood in Faridpur, Bangladesh, and rejoiced in the gift of three daughters.

  Alex Counts, President of the Grameen Foundation, USA, arranged a once-in-a-lifetime visit to my ancestral village and enlightened me about the power of micro-credit.

  Dr. Sajeda Amin of the Population Council gave advice on the customs and dress of Muslim women and girls in Bangladeshi villages

  Editor Judy O’Malley shepherded Naima’s story from start to finish, caring for it as diligently as she nurtures writers. Thanks also to Susan Sherman, art director, and artist Jamie Hogan for their visionary, magical partnership in creating this book.

  Last but far from least, I’m grateful for the countless rickshaw drivers who safely and cheerfully transported my husband, Rob, me, and our babies through the streets of Dhaka.