From: Where in the World is Farhana?

Before I embarked on this trip, I was given a special quilt, made by a special lady named Dionne, of the Wahine Project.  The Wahine Project is an organization that teaches resource poor girls how to surf.  Based out of Monterey, California, they also teach girls how they can respond locally to global issues.
 
When I met Dionne, I thought to myself, ‘Wow!  Someone who has more ideas than me!’  Dionne is a petite woman, with bright eyes and a passionate resonance that just mesmerizes you when you meet her.  She’s the kind of woman who thinks of something and then bam, 24 hours later, she’s managed to manifest it.  She’s just that way. 
 
The quilt came to Dionne one night when she was having trouble sleeping, and was trying to figure out a cool art project to do with the surfer girls in the Phillipines.  She ended up tying two colorful sarongs together.  She then had each girl paint their handprints on it.  The handprints moved together to form the crest of a wave.  It was supposed to be just a simple art project.  But it ended up becoming so much more.

Dionne had no idea that this quilt was in for quite a journey.  In the years that followed, it crossed the border making its way to Puta Mita, Mexico.  Here girls with few resources learned to surf from the Wahine project and then painted their prints on the tapestry.

Then, it somehow landed in the hands of surfer girls in refugee camps in the Gaza Strip via our friend Matt Olsen of Explore Corps.  Here they are painting their handprints on it.

A few days before I left, Dionne met with me and gave me the quilt.  I felt like I was receiving the holy grail of girls’ surfing.  Since I did not get my India visa, I ended up handing it off to Ted, our director of photography just as he was on his way to the airport to catch his flight to India.  Ted then delivered it to Cara who then delivered it to Ishita, India’s first female surfer.  6 degrees of separation!
 
Here’s Ishita and another surfer girl in India, making their mark on the quilt!

I posted the picture on Facebook, like I have always been doing with our trip updates.  Dionne happened to see it.  The next thing I knew I was tagged in a video and a slew of comments started showing up in the Facebook activity feed. The site of the image overwhelmed Dionne so much that she ended up making an on the spot video of her reaction.  I thought I’d share it with you, as it was a really super touching part of this trip. 

Then my friend Sara, who is one of the big brains behind the Blue Marble movement, a global movement to raise consciousness about protecting our ocean,  wrote something in the comment section of the post, that I think pretty much summed the whole thing up for me.  She said:

"Dionne - so sweet and lovely to see you so moved. It's so brave to show love, and to share moments of gratitude that come from a place of pain as well...pain for the difficulties the planet has, yet joy when we open the apature of seeing what is true. Farhana Huq and the entire expedition into Brown Girl Surf is profound social justice/planet justice work...and you made visible what many of us feel inside: happiness and pain, gratitude and passion. Thank you."

The quilt then met me in Bangladesh.  We had the girls put their hand print on it the first day we went surfing together.  When we explained to them what it was, they looked amazed that something had traveled so far and wide and touched so many girls who, despite their nationality, religion, race, and color, had something in common with them – they were lovers of the sea.

As I stood alongside as we made hand prints on the cloth in a combination of red and green (fitting for the holiday season), one of the first things I felt was ‘geez I’m tall!’  I also felt this inexplicable sense of responsibility to ensure somehow these girls were all linked.  How cool would it be if they could all meet one another one day!

I never thought in a million years I’d go to Bangladesh as an adult to surf with girls there, and then hand paint a quilt with them on the beach.  But here I was, smack dab in Cox’s Bazar, on another crazy adventure, doing just that.    I wondered where this would all go, and also where else this quilt would travel to.  I wondered what more I’d learn about the girls, their stories and their challenges.
 
Each time I look at the quilt, I’m reminded that sometimes really profound things are just profoundly simple.  Who would have thought a piece of material could start to connect and bring together these unique (and remote!) communities around the world.  Many don’t have Facebook or internet for that matter, so this might be the closest thing to them knowing there are other girls out there around the world, who share their passion and dreams.       
 


P.S. - Donate to Surfing Possibility and help us finish our videos:

DONATE ONLINE HERE

OR make checks payable to: Moving Train (our fiscal sponsor)

Mail to:
Moving Train
1530 Frontrero Ave.
Los Altos, CA 94024

EIN #:80-0376076

Please put "Surfing Possibility/Storytellers for Good" in the Note section of the check.

From: Where in the World is Farhana?

Last I left you, I had an angry man banging on my door in search of his wife, Nasima (forgive me for the misspelling of her name from my last post).  Upon opening my door to let him in, he proceeded to address me in Bangla, his tone of fierce  disapproval more than apparent.  I couldn’t make out what he was saying.  He kept repeating the word “kharab” (“bad”).  I gathered he was asking me where Nasima was.  “Asho,” (come) I told him and pointed to the bathroom where his wife was changing. 
 
Nasima opened the door only to model her new sun suit.  He was not pleased (even though she had put her kurta (tunic) on top of it).  Nasima, in a casual and relaxed tone, looked down at her outfit as if inviting him to take notice.  She simply said, “It’s good.” I kept out of it.  I figured I’d let them hash out their domestic dispute, despite it now happening in the corridor of my own room.
 
After an exchange of some words, it didn’t appear as if he got his way.  Nasima wore her suit and like the other girls, wore her long tunic on top of it.  Though he tried to exert his disapproval with her slick, new, sea faring style, she didn’t appear to be bothered one bit. It was obvious (to me, at least) that she held some amount of power in that relationship. 
 
He left and I briefly asked Nasima about his feelings on the matter.  She said he did not like the suit and that he wanted it covered.  I suggested that perhaps she wear her pants over it as well to be more covered.  I did not necessarily want to be liable for coercing anyone into using the suit either even though something told me he’d grow into accepting it.  She agreed with me and quickly put her pajama pants on. Then we headed out to meet the rest of the girls. 

Nasima’s husband followed us to our surf spot, a designated strip of beach termed “girls’ beach”  where there is far less of a crowd.  He lagged 20 or 30 steps behind all of us.  He stayed pretty quiet the rest of the time and waited patiently while we all dashed to the sea.

This being December, it’s the flat season of surf in Bangladesh.  But there were 2-3 foot waves coming in – perfect for longboarding.  Of course Nasima was one of the first to pop up on a wave.  Check out the burka-wearing sea lover.

It was so fun to see the personality of each girl in the water :  Nasima’s laser focus and skilled wave reading ability,  Ameena’s boyish aggressiveness, Mina’s girlishly giggly nature bubbling out of her as she got toppled by her soft top each time (a large, beginning surf board), and of course Gulapsha’s universal relaxed surfer attitude.  Gulapsha makes me smile the most, and puts me at ease.
 
It’s as if Gulapsha was born with the spirit of the typical laid-back surfer dude-ess.  She is the only one of the girls in school (her brother sells clay pots that she and her mother decorate at home with seashells.  He earns money to pay for her tuition).  Her dream one day is to be a doctor.  But apparently all she talks about is surfing. 
 
Here she is demoing a pop-up on the beach to some of Jafar’s students:

While we surfed in the sea, Hazera, our translator, upon hearing about the incident regarding Nasima’s husband, decided to speak with him a bit.  She told him that what Nasima had accomplished with her surfing is a good thing for Bangladesh, and that he should be proud of her.  She also noted that these types of suits are good because they protect the body from the sun and from jellyfish stings.  She mentioned too that women in the Middle East wear something like them to swim in as well .  “Really?” he said, as if the sun suit suddenly became “legitimized” in his eyes in some way.
 
As we migrated from the beach back to the hotel, Nasima’s husband, without any hesitation, offered to help carry some of our bags and equipment.  I started joking with the girls, practicing what little Bangla I knew that would make them laugh: “Tumar dat coy?” (where is your tooth?)  “Amar gari kothai?”(Where is my car?) and “Ami tuma ke marbo!”(I am going to beat you) to which everyone laughed, including Nasima’s husband.  I know. I KNOW!  (I need to learn some better Bangla.)  It was the first time I actually saw her husband laugh though.  It made me feel at ease and I was glad he came to see what we were all doing. 
 
That day I felt like I honored my personal mission to surf with the girls of Bangladesh and to experience the vastness and freedom of the ocean together.  It also put me in touch with my own internal struggle as someone who grew up Muslim who loves to travel, loves to be athletic and be in my body and experience the freedom of the sea.  In many ways, I feel like I have to surf my way through these blog posts, finding balance in offering my perspectives to all of you - my readers.  The film crew from Storytellers for Good were all part of the evangelical movement (one from The “Moonies”), something they have since let go of as adults.  They have relaxed into a genuine appreciation and acceptance for all religions and spiritual practices.  So it has been great to debrief with them and hear their perspectives on all that there is to take in here.  The only thing that I can really share is my perspective and all the vulnerabilities that come with me from simply being human.  

Still, I feel like we have come to Bangladesh at a most fascinating time in the history of the world. I still see the layer of power males hold in this society (and globally) despite the prime minister of this country being a woman.  This is perhaps why the stories of Bangladesh’s surfer girls, especially that of Nasima’s,  are so interesting to me on many levels.  Nasima once entered a surfing competition and beat all the boys.  What will her voice be in shaping women’s empowerment, and in putting girls and sports on the map, especially in the context of more moderate Islamic majority nations (with pockets of religious conservativeness) set against a backdrop of increasing globalization?
 
I don’t know the answer to these complex questions.  Shit.  I just came to surf and write to you about my adventures!  But surely the stories of these brave females offer us a glimpse into a way of understanding some aspect of our world together and the things that we all have in common.  I know they make me think more of my own life, and how to find the balance that is just right, allowing me to inspire and help others while empowering myself to surf the waves of life that area most meaningful to me.  I hope these stories evoke something within you too.  Each day I am more and more grateful to have been blessed with surfing in my life and am honored to be able to share some of the journey with you.

With that note, I’ll sign off.  Thanks for coming surfing with me in Bangladesh and stay tuned for the next story!
 
 
Sighing off from Cox’s Bazar,
 
Farhana


P.S. - We are still accepting contributions to help us tell the stories of the Surfer Girls of India and Bangladesh through our Surfing Possibility documentary profile.

All donations are TAX DEDUCTIBLE
If you'd like to contribute, you can DONATE ONLINE HERE

OR make checks payable to: Moving Train (our fiscal sponsor)

Mail to:
Moving Train
1530 Frontrero Ave.
Los Altos, CA 94024

EIN #:80-0376076

Please put "Surfing Possibility/Storytellers for Good" in the Note section of the check.

From: Where in the World is Farhana?

I'm getting over a little cold here, but overall have been busy taking in the sights, sounds and waves of Bangladesh.  You must have heard me mention a surfer girl here named Nasima in my previous posts; she was referred to in a recent article by my friend Jaimal Yogis in the Huffington post as The Most Fearless Surfer.  I had heard bits and pieces of her story - that she won a recent surf contest here, that people had hopes she’d be picked up by a sponsor, that she recently got married.  I also heard that she has had a tough, tough life.  (She also happens to be the subject of a documentary film that my friends are working on, but more on that later!).  Needless to say, I have been looking forward to meeting with this fellow surfer for some time. 
 
Nasima couldn’t be with us for the first evening so we went on a quest to find her.  We decided we'd just show up at her home.  So we crammed our crew into a rickshaw (driven by her brother) and tom tom and journeyed to her home.  We passed green rice fields, colorful open fish and vegetable markets, school aged girls clad in full burka (veil) on their way to school amidst a backdrop of economic globalization and expansion.  There were signs for the latest and greatest high rise resort “coming soon” every few feet.  It felt like Cox's Bazar was on some type of economic development map to become the next Bali.  Having spent a few months surfing in Bali in 2010, I'd say this type of rampant development is something to be concerned about, both for the people and for the environment.

I had always looked at Bangladesh as a moderate Islamic state.   But this region of the country seemed to exhibit a conservatism not found in Dhaka or even Barisal, my dad’s district, where I usually travel.  (Interesting fact: the prime minister of Bangladesh is a woman.  Since we've landed, there has been a series of transportation strikes led by the opposition party  resulting in destruction and even death.  The leader of the opposition party also happens to be a woman. )
 
After a half hour or so, we arrived at Nasima’s home.  It didn’t take long for her to appear.  I was stoked to meet my surf sister and embraced her with a big hug.

As usual the visit attracted the stares of all family members. If you can imagine there’s no TV here, so unexpected visitors become the entertainment of the moment!

We asked Nasima if she could come out with us so we could do an interview with her.  I did not realize there would be so many layers of permission she would have to access before saying yes.  First she called her husband for permission.  Then she called the head of her surf club to get his consent.  She got the go ahead from both, but on one condition imposed by her husband - that she wear her burka (full body cloak).  It took her awhile to wrap herself up.  We meanwhile waited patiently outside trying to get her release signed.
 
Here’s the surfer girl, all set to go.

I kept looking at her thinking how much in contrast she looked to the shots I had seen of her popping up on her surfboard riding the waves in the ocean. In that instant she reminded me more of a Russian doll with a bright, smiling face.  I would later see that she was as fluid moving in and out of these identities as she was paddling through the waves of the ocean. 

Muslim women’s dress always seems to be the subject of great controversy whenever the topic of Islam comes up – especially in the surf world. So I'll digress a little on this topic for your edjamakation.  Truth be told, veiling actually has its origins in the Christian tradition and was worn by elite women to designate status. It was later adopted into Islam (as I understand it - at least that's what the academics say, and well, they do read a shitload more of books than we do).  Here's what Wikipedia says: ” In the early 20th century, the niqāb (Egyptian form of the veil) was worn by both Muslim and Christian elite women. This urban phenomenon originated in Istanbul and was part of the harem tradition, in which concubines and freeborn women of the Ottoman-Egyptian elite were secluded in harems that were guarded by eunuchs.[2]   
Who’da known!  History is fascinating in that way…..

FYI - Other famous veiled women:

Did you know that the Portugese brought the chili pepper to India?  And according to the Etymology Dictionary,the word 'surf' was derived from the Indian word 'suffe' which means the coastline. This word was picked up by Portuguese sailors in the 1600's and 'suffe' soon became 'surf'.  Some more interesting things to ponder….
 
Anyways......we headed over to fellow surfer Nahida’s home to do the interview.  We got a little clearer on Nassima’s story, of how she used to sell shells at the beach from the time she was little, to how she started surfing, to how she ended up becoming the best female surfer of the country.  It was hard to gauge her feelings about her current situation being married at age 16.  She seemed much more demure than what I would have thought her to be, and in contrast to the rambunctious nature of the rest of the group.  There seemed to be a calmness about her and a stable core I wouldn’t have imagined from hearing how tough her life had been.
 
She also said something that really made an impact on me.  She believed that if she wasn’t poor, being a surfer would be so much more acceptable for her – it would be like a hobby for her.  But since she is poor, girls like her are expected to marry at a very young age.  Surfing is frowned upon by people and her actions to do it are even more scrutinized. She has had her fair share of negative comments from passer byers each time she took to the ocean.  Despite, she is still surfing; her husband still “let’s” her do it.    It’s ironic that just the other day, we were surfing next to Sheikh Hasina's son and family (Sheikh Hasina is the prime minister of Bangladesh).  It wasn’t a big deal for them to be doing it obviously because they are wealthy (not to mention he’s a dude – it’s just so much more taboo when someone like Nasima does it I guess).

Nasima only recently married her husband who is about 19.   I couldn’t get a clear sense of how Nasima felt about her marriage - whether she felt she had given up on her dreams to do what was socially acceptable or whether she was content with it.  She seemed to think the marriage was good for her and welcomed her husband’s authority.  From an outsiders perspective, she seemed to give over her power easily– asking her husband for permission to go out, asking the head of her surf club (a rival to that of Jafar’s) for permission to be interviewed etc…  I was heartened to know that her fellow surf buddies from her surf club totally opposed the marriage and wanted her to keep focused on her surfing and building her skills in life guarding.  Like brothers, they just felt she was too young to be married.  (She apparently married without them even knowing it). 
 
In these situations of male dominance and control, especially in the name of religion, it often makes me think.  For us, having our husbands dictate what we wear and whether we can do something or go out is a clear red flag for control. For Nasima – someone who has lived her whole life without parents and with nobody to watch over her – I wondered if maybe she welcomed it as a way of feeling loved or feeling that someone is caring for her well being. Her male surf counterparts seem to think her husband takes things to the extreme.  I wondered what she thought.   It’s hard to really know.  Regardless, I was glad to meet her and was ever curious now to surf with this Muslim surfer girl, surfing her own waves of life of being wrapped up like a doll in a burka to hopping on a surfboard in the ocean catching waves.  I couldn't think of two more opposing images.
 
The next day we all headed for the sea.  I had been looking forward to surfing with the girls for some time now.  I had passed out new sun suits to the girls the evening before (courtesy of our sponsor Ecostinger from Italy).  They were overjoyed to get them. They showed up, bright and spunky, ready to hit the waves.

Nassima came accompanied by her husband.  I handed her a new suit and we headed up to my room so she could change.  A few minutes later, there was a loud banging on my door.  I opened it.  It was her husband, looking totally pissed. The rest of the story to come soon.....  
 
Signing off from Cox’z Bazar, Bangladesh!

Farhana


P.S. - We are still accepting contributions to help us tell the stories of the Surfer Girls of India and Bangladesh through our Surfing Possibility documentary profile.

All donations are TAX DEDUCTIBLE
If you'd like to contribute, you may DONATE ONLINE HERE
OR
make checks payable to: Moving Train (our fiscal sponsor)

Mail to:
Moving Train
1530 Frontrero Ave.
Los Altos, CA 94024

EIN #:80-0376076

Please put "Surfing Possibility/Storytellers for Good" in the Note section of the check.

From: Where in the World is Farhana?

I hope you all are doing fantastic!  I am happy to report that the Storytellers for Good team and I made it safe and sound to Cox’s Bazar, Bangladesh after more than 30 hours of traveling.  Since I couldn’t go to India, Storytellers for Good went and then met me in Dhaka. (stories from their journey to come soon.)  From there we flew to Cox’s Bazar.

Cox's Bazar is touristy beach town on the South Coast of Bangladesh. It is home to the longest sandy surfing beach in the world.  Yes, surfing in Bangladesh – I know!  It, like most coastal strips around the world, is being infiltrated with various multi-national developers who are building high rise hotels and such changing the face of the once pristine and beautiful landscape (that is a whole other blog story).   

When we landed we were greeted by two members of the Bangladeshi Girls’ Surfing Club.  They presented us with leis of marigolds and roses along with big, bright smiles – a little Aloha Bangladeshi style.   

Jafar Alam, Bangladesh’s first surfer, was there to greet us and 'tom tom' us to our hotel by the beachside. 

This is probably my 5th or 6th time to Bangladesh (my father is from Bangladesh), but my first time going as a surfer.  So as you can imagine, I’m incredibly curious about the waves, the surfers, the surf culture and just how these girls managed to do something so daring here.  Inquiring minds wanna know!
 
We couldn't wait to get into the water so once we arrived, we headed for the surf.  The beach is quite a scene here.  Everyone stared at us as we carried our boards to the water, and a crowd formed around us to see what we were doing.  It was a little uncomfortable at first, but their expressions were very much of curiousity.   We were soon out to sea catching waves on our own, the crowd becoming a distant speck on the beach.  It felt so good to be back in the water after so many hours cooped up in a plane.  The ocean felt familiar and the act of catching waves – timeless.

That evening we joined the girls for a welcoming meal.  I learned that they were essentially taken in by Jafar as street kids, who offered them a place to call home and access to something that brought them joy in their lives. Surfing is completely free to them, so it is very accessible and provides them with a sense of community.  Mina (the second from the right) was the newest to the group. Her father died and her mother re-married.  Mistreated by her mother and stepfather, she left home and told them she would fend for herself.  She wandered the beach in Cox’s Bazar hoping a kind soul would give her food and take her in.  That’s when she met up with Nahida on the beach (to the left), who took her in.  She now stays with Nahida and Nahida’s mother in their house (which is no bigger than an 8x8 sized room).

We also TOTALLY lucked out with the world’s best translator -  an awesome woman named Hazera who is from Cox Bazar.  She was at the dinner and offered to help us navigate and translate through the various dialects of the girls’ languages. She also has some sophisticated frameworks in terms of looking at various ways to address social and economic issues in her country (she was educated in London and has experience working with a street kid project in Bangladesh).  So it's great to have her there as well.  

From our discussion, it was apparent to me that this particular microcosm of Bangladeshi society is so used to being supported with aid and given charity that they see the solutions to their problems in the form of support and thinking from the outside.  It's a crippling mindset to say the least.  This is especially perpetuated by the religious fundamentalism a region such as this attracts (funding from Saudi Arabia to build mosques, presence of the Christian evangelicals with their conversion agendas) and by the economic agendas of more developed nations looking to expand their markets (the Japanese are busy building roads here because where there are roads, there are cars - Japanese cars).  Bangladesh always seems to be in the position of receiving.    

Still, I remained curious about what potential solutions the girls could come up with themselves regarding their challenges. I know they are probably thinking since we're from the west, we'll be their savior and help them out.  It's such a fine line between helping your fellow neighbor out and adding to a systemic cycle of dependency and hand outs that has plagued developing nations around the world.   I have to keep reminding myself that our purpose for being here is really to bring their stories to the world, and through that, to inspire others to live in their possibility.  Given this social and economic landscape, it is remarkable what these girls are doing, and what they aspire to do and be. 

After a lovely evening with the girls, we were off the next day to do our first interviews and to meet someone very special who couldn’t be there for the dinner.  More on that to come.