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And cried a lot more. It have been a couple of intense days in Dhaka. Sometimes you loose. And that can be hard. But then I’m in a bus. A bus that will take me home. To my own place, my own bed. I struggle with my Bengali to satisfy the curiosity of my neighbour. We get out of Dhaka quick and with music in my ears, I even manage to sleep a little bit. My new friend buys me an orange in the bus. Everyone wonders why someone would ever massage an orange. But the crazy foreigner does it. We stop for prayer, it’s Friday. I’m taken to a little shack for tea. And some more questions. The mosque empties and the little boys point and stare. I wave. They laugh.

We arrive in Khagrachari. Time for the regular discussion with the police. But this time I really have to complete the form. Even when they all know me. I get complimented with my amazing dancing skills (you all know this has to be true!). And the fact that I speak an amazing four sentences of Bengali (after 16 months, I must be really smart). We arrive in the main market and I find my way home in a tomtom. I walk across the market in Modhupur, my market. And I see home. My home. The place I really wanted to be, where I have my own space, where I am comfortable.

I’ve to get to a cultural event that my youth club is organizing. I jump in the shower. It’s still to cold but there is no time to heat water. I act like a hero and survive. On my way to the club I meet the new group of ICS-volunteers. They’re waiting for their tour around Khagrachari to start. Change of plans. First the hospital. Then burning candles and incense at the temple. Finally we are on our way to the club. The event starts at six, they told me 4.30. The event starts at 7. I meet an old VSO employee who started the project I’m in. I have to sing. It’s a hit (you can all remember the cheering of my last attempt). I consider a career switch.

One of the people visiting offers me his car to take my sister from the airport. And will try to get a computer for the club. And has plans to volunteer. I’ve made a new friend. And many more in the two hours over there. I rush to my colleagues house. But first I dance! Then I rush. My colleague’s brother is getting married. Or has been married. Although there is still food left. I’m brought home on a bike by one of his nephews. We talk. In Bengali. About where we live and our jobs. It’s simple but it’s also the first time I really succeed in having a whole conversation. He drops me off at the market. I get credits for my phone. I walk across the same market as this afternoon. Dark, deserted. My market. And then home. My home.

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