Bhai

My Bengali brother was the Grameen guide for our study group, a jovial fellow by the name of Nahid, known to his friends as Shovon (meaning "handsome"). He was responsible for co-ordinating our group from the Bangladesh side, and served as our interlocutor with other Grameen departments, as well as purveyor of Bangladesh culture. From our first proper chill session after dinner on Christmas Eve, it was clear that Nahid and I understood each other on a common wavelength.  

The Bangali term for brother is spelled bhai, but is pronounced differently depending on context. 'Vhai' is commonly used in everyday conversation, to address the rickshaw driver or the tea stall man. 'Phai' is reserved for a man who you respect and whose philosophy of life you agree with, a true brother based on mutual admiration and loyalty. However you say it, Nahid has been my bhai since day one.  

We saw each other nearly every day I was in Bangladesh, and had hundreds of cups of tea together. Nahid has taken care of me like family, and with him I shared just about every idea I've ever had. Through our conversations, I've been able to absorb what I could about Bangladesh and everything in it. By the end, I must've asked him ten thousands questions. He's always been more than happy to oblige, and if he didn't know the answer, he immediately found out. Once focused on a task, he has a never-say-die mentality and will not rest until he completes it. Needless to say he was my number one translator.  

Feeling it his 'holiest duty' to make sure my time in his country was comfortable, he helped me in every way that he could. For the first few weeks, he refused to allow me to pay for anything. Even when I tried to circumvent him, the local vendor refused my money. Being a host is an honor for Bangladeshi people, and they perform the role graciously. It was only after Nahid was broke and waiting on the next paycheck that the wall cracked and he grudgingly let me treat him. With his position in Yunus Centre and the great relationships he built in all of Grameen, he opened doors for me that I hadn't even known existed. It's a fact that, had I chosen to stay in Bangladesh, I would be completely hooked up.

Nahid was an active youth with accomplishments in acting and singing, standing out by representing the national under-19's cricket team. He attended Dhaka University (itself a huge achievement in Bangladesh), where active turned to activism, placing him in the frontline of anti-establishment protests.  

He started his career in telecom and real estate before combining both experiences to work at Grameen Telecom Trust. He then got handpicked by Professor Yunus to be his protocol officer, arranging the big cheese's international schedule and visas. I surmise that Nahid was chosen specifically for his tenacity and resourcefulness, essential when dealing with embassies and consulates. (Of course, if he considers the task unimportant, he will forget about it, repeatedly. It was rather amusing.)

In addition to various duties, last year he assumed the task of guiding the international researchers, students and VIP visitors that come to study and intern with Grameen. Of all the countries he's hosted, he says that our HK group was the most memorable. And of course, he's never made a friend like me (his words). He was excited to show me his hometown of Jessore, 8 hours west of Dhaka. He invited me into his family home, and when I turned up extremely sick, his friends and family took good care of me. I hit it off especially with his cousin (also named Nahid, nicknamed Razon) and his best friend Ifty.

Under the jolly surface there was a somberness to Nahid, due to the tragic loss of his mother at a young age. But you could never tell, and he has a great relationship with everybody, with numerous bhais and friends in various circles. One friend adopted him as her little brother and even named the main character (Shovon) in her novel after him. He's a natural connector, and very persuasive. When he speaks in Bengali, I can see many more shades to his personality than when he is speaking in English. It was most interesting to watch him politicking, and in Dhaka, a conversation about politics can pop up anywhere.

He introduced most of his social circle, even new associates to me, and for the most part was a good judge of character. One gentleman named Mahmun was absolutely amazed to be talking to me, and told me that I might forget him but that he'll never forget me. It was the first time he'd spoken to anyone that looked like me before, and it was one of the greatest moments of his life. It was strange that I was blowing his mind by just chilling, but well, I didn't forget him either.

Whenever he was happy, Nahid would break out into song…usually of the Bangali folk variety, but also John Denver at times. It turned life into a Bollywood movie for me. At first it was intriguing, and after a while I got used it and didn't even pay much attention. For his part, he stopped caring or asking if I minded, and would belt out notes at the top of his lungs. One time while Bob Marley was playing, Nahid started singing on top of the song. At first I was annoyed that anyone would do such a thing, but when I listened awhile it actually complemented and harmonized with the music, and became a treat for the ears. I never thought I'd be happy with someone singing over Bob. If ever I wanted Shovon to stop singing (a rare occurrence) I'd just ask him a question.

Interspersed among the musical numbers were solemn poetry recitings (in Bangali), replete with changes in demeanor and vocal inflection. The people worship their poets and love their poetry, Nahid being no different. There is a poetic tinge to his thought and speech, evident even in his English. He's produced quotes that I've often referenced, such as "my religion is my religion", and "the barking dog rarely bites." 

The real culture shock came when I realized how much Bangladeshis love rain. Whereas sunshine makes me happy, rain is associated with melancholy emotions. Not here. The more the better, and people can be found (I've been told) dancing and playing amidst the showers, singing while soaking. Nahid likes to go trekking and even swimming in heavy rain. I'll have to see it myself sometime.

I think what made it fun was that we could both act like kids. Any boredom would lead to some new game being invented. It all started with cards, because we didn't have a common game we could play (their dominant game is call bridge). So I set up a 'basket' using a paper fruit bag, and we threw the cards at it, aiming from five or six feet away. He'd take the black cards and I took the red. We made a complete mess at first and completely failed. But after you sink one, you get hooked. After some practice, technique began to develop and it made for an interesting, competitive game. We've successfully introduced the game to new players. Picking up the cards not so fun.

I went to Bangladesh to seek Dr. Yunus, but it was Nahid that was destined to be my brother.