The unbearable harshness of honesty (22nd April 2009 )
on Bangla in the 'Desh (Bangladesh), 17/May/2009 15:34, 34 days ago
I came out of my house this morning, as I do every morning, and walked up the dirt track, past the goat pasture and the mosque, to Parbatipur’s main street. I was wearing a spanking new salwar kameez, fresh from Dhaka, with a racy new style (no sleeves!), and I’d even bothered to put make-up on that morning, despite the fact that, although it was only 8am, the sweat was already running off me. I was feeling pretty good this morning,let’s just say.My friend Mahabub was waiting on his motorbike a short way down the road, as he does every morning. Now, he’s an awesome guy and I really would despair without him, but on this particular morning I came close to severing our friendship forever.He took one desultory look at my glamorous new outfit and grimaced. My feel-good bubble trembled. When pushed for an explanation of this churlish behaviour, he informed me that my kameez was‘so rubbish’ and that I should not wear it again. Ever. My bubble promptly burstAlthough he eventually decided that it wasn’t so bad on closer inspection, it was too late for my self-esteem for that day.Bluntness is one Bangladeshi trait that I simply cannot make my mind up about. I think Englishness wires you against it, so my kneejerk reaction is always discomfort and disapproval. But it can sometimes be endearing– if someone thinks you’re looking nice, they’ll definitely tell you about it. However, it can also be soul destroying. You know that when you are paid a compliment it is genuine only because you know that, if someone thinks you’re looking rough as a bear’s arse, they’ll also let you know. And there’s no cushioning of the blow.The list of faults that have been pointed out about me is endless. Spots is a big one. If you have a spot, don’t think you’ll get away with everyone pretending not to see it and tactfully not commenting on it. Oh, no. Instead, the offending zit is immediately pointed out. Sometimes, you’ll get a loud “What is it?” which will be followed by a long discussion about why people get spots and how unfortunate it is that spots are so obvious on white skin. Sometimes, if you’re not quick on your feet, someone might even try to remove it for you.Another favourite subject is teeth. I know the English aren’t famed for their shiny white teeth (I like to think it’s because we’re too strong to succumb to the pressures of the orthodontic industry), and I know my own teeth are far from perfect. But it can be demoralising to have the crookedness of your teeth pointed out to you in the middle of a meeting. Whilst you’re trying to deliver a presentation.And then there’s weight. I’ve lost count of the number of times I smiled happily when someone told me I was looking ‘healthy’, as I tucked into a second helping of rice or my fourth paratha of the morning. Then a friend helpfully pointed out that ‘healthy’ is generally used to mean fat, and that maybeI had gained some weight since coming to Bangladesh? When I had to get a few of my kameez’s taken out at the tailors, there was lots of guffawing about all the rice and misti I must have been eating. I just rise above it all.The list goes on. I’ve been given a pitying once over and told I’m looking ‘not so fresh’ on more than one occasion. I’ve been informed that, although sometimes I look very stylish, on this particular day, I have ‘no style at all’. I’ve been told that my hairstyle is rubbish, and that I should change it in order to please ‘the people who have to look’ at me. I don’t think there’s any aspect of my appearance that has not been criticised. But like I said. I rise above it.