|  |  | |  | | Part 2: To Whom Much is Given, Much is ExpectedJul
1Posted in [CEO Julie Smolyansky], [Every Mother Counts], [Miscellaneous], [Women’s Health] By Julie Smolyansky
7/1/2011 3:00 PM
I was fortunate enough to have a mom and dad who instilled in me a love of travel, a sense of cultural curiosity, and passion for adventure, along with a philanthropic heart. So when Christy invited me to join her on her trip back to Bangladesh, of course I said YES! Besides, if we as a company have decided to make this part of a campaign, I was eager to learn more. I got my visa, made an appointment at the travel clinic for a series of shots and “just in case” prescriptions (you know, for things like rabies, Japanese Encephalitis, and Typhoid ) and ordered my Lonely Planet Bangladesh guide. Interestingly enough, there are only 2 guide books to Bangladesh and they aren’t updated yearly. Seems it’s not a big travel destination.
View Larger Map
As the weeks grew closer I started picking up advice from friends back home and was advised to “Wear sunglasses, because direct eye contact with men can be considered an invitation for sex,” or “Cover your shoulders and wear loose clothing because showing skin or wearing tight clothes can be an invitation for sex,” or “Wear a wedding band because unmarried woman traveling alone can get into trouble.” Despite my hosts efforts to assuage my fears, I still couldn’t avoid the influence of these ‘helpful suggestions’ from friends. Suddenly, my excitement began to morph into small moments of fear and doubt. Add to that the general instabilty of the region itself, it’s just a hop, skip and a jump away from Pakistan, Afghanistan , and a whole bunch of other “stan’s” and it was almost enough to push me to cancel my trip. What was I getting myself into? I have traveled extensively with my parents and, later, Jason around much of Europe, Greece, Turkey, Israel, Indonesia, Mexico, the Caribbean, Russia and Ukraine, but never alone and never to a developing country that does not hold a high regard for woman. I worried that things can go from “OK” to “very bad” extremely quickly in a country like Bangladesh. I actually printed out the directions from our hotel to the US Embassy (.43 miles) and estimated that, if I needed to, I could run there in four minutes or less if I was wearing a sports bra and running shoes - eight if not.
As I started packing, I realized I definitely had a wardrobe issue. Not many items in my closet would cover me yet be comfortable in 100 degree, high humidity weather. I walked to a shop in my neighborhood while the kids slept in the stroller and threw a few things together, mostly some scarves and long-sleeved tops. I packed a second bag full of clothes my daughters had outgrown to deliver to local children. I asked Leah, my oldest (at three years old) to gather some of her toys for the kids in Bangladesh, explaining that they had NO toys to play with. Leah looked at me, very confused, and then began collecting some toys. But by the next day she had changed her mind and said, “I’m not comfortable with giving my toys to the kids in Bangladesh. Can you buy them some new ones?” I understood - she’s not even three years old yet, but one day I know it will make sense to her. In the meantime, I snuck around and picked up a few dolls, throwing them in my bag.
As my departure neared, I continued to experience irrational fear and doubts. Jason assured me I would be safe, that I was traveling with an internationally renowned supermodel who had an entourage (well…we were her entourage), a driver, and that we would even have security with us as an extra precaution. He urged me to go ahead, and seeing how confident he was was incredibly reassuring. As I said my good byes, my heart hurt watching Leah cry. “Little people don’t like seeing big people with big bags,” my travel mate Erin Thornton, Executive Director for Every Mother Counts, tweeted the morning of her departure. Nor do big people. As the car drove away from the house I felt a lump in my throat and then a few tears I held back in front of my kids. The mommy guilt started to set in nearly instantaneously: “I’m leaving my own daughters to help other kids in another part of the world. Is this really a good idea? What if something happened and my kids were left without a mother?” Sure, completely irrational fears on my part. But I’m really glad I went.
 Saying good byes the night of my departure. Can you see the lump in my throat? The profound impact Bangladesh has had on me is still not clear for me. I go through the images we saw, the conversations we had, the moments I experienced. I am still trying to process it all but what I do know is that I will never be the same. We just celebrated Fourth of July weekend, more than ever I am grateful for the freedom and liberties we share in the States. We often take for granted all our rights and all that we have fought for. As a matter of fact, while I was in Mumbai, the State of New York gave gays the right to marry. Our freedoms are not without hard work by many people who care passionately. Coming up, on the ground in Dhaka, Bangladesh.
Previous Entry: Meeting ChristyNext Entry: Beat the Heat
On processing, please waiting for ... | | | | |
|