The Extraordinary Expat – PART 2: “Dhaka was a completely different place back then.”

“You could find L’Oreal shampoo, but there would be something completely different inside the bottle. Tissue boxes were taken off aeroplanes and then sold in the markets. Newspaper was stuffed up the bottom half of a tissue box to make it look full.”

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Published in The Weekend Independent Magazine on 30 December 2011

Click here to return to Part 1: “We came to Dhaka for six months but stayed 30 years:” An extraordinary expat from Kansas

Susan and Ehsan's children, Emily and Samia. Photo courtesy of Susan Elahi

Susan said she arrived in Dhaka “without fully realising that Bangladesh was only nine years old and that the impact of the war was still absolutely devastating.”

On a personal level, Susan said that many businesses owned by the Elahi family – including a large transport company and a joint textile venture – had simply “disappeared overnight,” after being commandeered by the Pakistani army.

She said, “In my entire life, I never understood the kind of abject poverty that existed.  I was absolutely ignorant that leprosy wasn’t extinct. Initially, [living in Dhaka] was just a great adventure.  But then there were times when I cried every day. It took a while for the crying to set in – after my daughter was born [in 1981], I felt the pinch of not having my family around.  The things that were available for babies back home weren’t available here.  I found it a big struggle.”

However she added, “Looking back, in some respects I believe my daughter had a better and more grounded childhood in Dhaka.  We had television for no more than two or three hours a day.  BTV started broadcasting at 5pm and we’d hang on for the 30 minute cartoon show.  On Wednesdays there was an English programme – for a while it was “Night Rider” and then the goofy, embarrassingly terrible US sitcom, ‘Laverne and Shirley.’  Then we had ‘Dallas’!  So my daughter had the most imaginative childhood, because she wasn’t exposed to the influence the media has in terms of branding and imitation, which can have a huge impact on children.”

I asked Susan whether she believes present day Dhaka is better than the one she experienced during previous decades.

She paused thoughtfully before saying, “It depends how you think of the word ‘better.’  We have certain conveniences now – Dhaka was a completely different place back then.”

Susan explained that during her first few years in Dhaka, “There were no big industries.”

As a result, a pervasive black market economy, known as “Business Two” sprang up as a substitute.

Susan said, “Business Two was everywhere.  ‘Business One’ were the original products.  ‘Business Two’ was the fakes.”

She provided a few examples of the “thriving business of adulterating products” and the extremely limited number of products available.

Wedding reception, 1980. Photo courtesy of Susan Elahi

“You could find L’Oreal shampoo, but there would be something completely different inside the bottle.  Tissue boxes were taken off aeroplanes and then sold in the markets.  Newspaper was stuffed up the bottom half of a tissue box to make it look full.  Occasionally, you could find toilet paper from China.  It was incredible – hot pink and it felt like crepe paper!  There was no bread – just little buns that were dry and crumbly, and made with bad quality flour.  Shortening contained palm oil, so it was bad for your health.  And Old Dhaka was much more polluted back then, as people used any manner of things for cooking and the CNGs [auto-rickshaws] were horrible because the two stroke engines ran on diesel.”

Nowadays Dhaka isn’t short of tasty pizza outlets – but this was another “convenience” absent from Susan’s earlier years.

As she explained, “When I made pizza for our family it was such a… process.  My father-in-law bought a five pound chunk of beef from the butchers that had to be chopped and ground using a hand operated grinder.  I’d run around the shops trying to find yeast.  There was “Dhaka Cheese” and a sort of waxy cheese from Comilla.  But that was it – there were no other choices, ever.  Making a pizza was a two day process.”

“And when I first arrived, fruits and vegetables were seasonal. During the rainy season, there was almost nothing.”

However Susan noticed that “little by little,” more products became available from 1982.

Then, during the summer of 1991, a big – if not historic – change took place when the first supermarket chain, Agora, opened in Bangladesh. It was located just across the street from Susan’s and Ehsan’s current home in Gulshan.  She recounted the profound effect Agora’s opening had on expat Bangladeshis, who she said return in large numbers during the summer months.

She said, “In strong British accents, the expats were saying, ‘Oh my gawd!’ They were even taking photographs of the store!  They didn’t believe they’d see it in their lifetimes.”

Thanks to the likes of Agora and the surge of imports in general, Susan said, “There are now many foods we can virtually have 12 months of year.”

The Elahi's town house. Photo courtesy of Susan Elahi

Now let us turn to a pressing question: is the extraordinary expat fluent in Bangla?

“I’ve been told I am,” she replied modestly.

“When I first arrived, if my husband and father-in-law went out to visit offices or do various jobs, I was left in a household of non-English speakers. [Learning Bangla] was something to do.”

And she certainly put a great deal of effort into learning.  Initially, Susan learnt the Old City dialect – “Certain words are totally Dhakaite,” she said.

She added, “There were no Bangla tutors at that time, so I was totally self-taught.  I had labels stuck on everything and I learned how to say, ‘Eta ki?’ [What is this?”].  I constantly had a notebook in my hand.  In Bangla, I asked people to repeat what they’d said and then I carefully wrote down a phonetic version.”

During a particular conversation that took place “four or five years” after she began learning Bangla, Susan was suddenly struck by the realisation that she’d achieved fluency.

“I said ‘volcanic eruption’ in Bangla.  It was a huge mouthful and a totally useless thing to know how to say – it just came up in conversation.  I was stunned!”

I asked Susan whether her Bangla skills are a frequent source of surprise to Bangladeshis, who may reasonably assume she’s yet another foreigner “just off the plane.”

Susan said, “Occasionally, someone will ask me – very, very slowly – ‘Do you speak Bangla?

Her reply?

“What would you like me to say? What is it you want to hear?”

“That’s fun,” she giggled.

However Susan certainly isn’t resting on her Bangla language skill laurels.

The family's 200-year old entrance. Photo courtesy of Susan Elahi

“After all these years, I’m sorry to say that I can write the grocery list but am hard pressed to write a proper letter.  But I can read.  I have difficulty reading newspapers because ‘high Bangla’ [formal Bangla] is used.  Being self taught, most of what I can say is highly colloquial. It gets me through though – I can read medicine labels.  But even now, I still see things I don’t understand. I still feel as if I’m learning.”

But it’s not only the enormous practical advantages she values about knowing Bangla – such as feeling safe in the knowledge that she can call someone for help.

She said, “People are so pleased if you can speak even a little Bangla.  You’ll notice a change in demeanour and a new sense of respect.  In Bangladesh, if you know even a bit of the language, it opens up the most incredible doors.  I think language is the most important commodity we have.”

However Susan also “kind of misses not understanding [Bangla] when in big crowds.  Before, I could block it out – it was white noise.  Now I hear snippets of conversations from all around… it’s is a distraction.”

I was curious as to whether Susan feels irritated when she encounters whiney foreign expats.  Her response was delightfully unsurprising.

“There’s no one who will defend this country more than I when [foreigners] start complaining.”

She added, “I think of the hardships we endured when I first came.  There really was nothing.  I think in many other places in the world; those who live there appreciate what it has to offer – such as the museums of Paris.  Bangladesh is a place that you love in spite of the challenges involved in living here.  And once you start focusing on the downsides, it’s very easy to overlook the improvements.”

Susan has taught art to elementary students at the American International School for the past 21 years, while Ehsan is deeply involved in business, managing several garment factories and properties.

The couple are clearly content and happy – could there possibly be plans to leave Dhaka someday?

“Well… I don’t know,” Susan says slowly.  It seems as though she hasn’t spent much time contemplating it.

“I have a great group of friends, both Bangladeshi and foreign – I’m very blessed in that way.  And I enjoy the support of family that many expats don’t have.  And as Dhaka… barrels ahead into the 21st century, there aren’t many differences between the life I’d have in the States and what I have here.”

Yet it’s the differences she encountered in the past that she treasures above all else.

“As hard as it was at times, I feel very lucky to have been a part of the Old Dhaka community and to have experienced the real Bangladesh.  Nothing was prettied up and put on display for the foreigners.  I saw the good and the bad and how people actually lived. This was a rare gift and a unique experience.  It’s been very much an adventure.”

Click here to read Part 3: “The sense of community in Old Dhaka was strong – and still is.”

Click here to return to Part 1: “We came to Dhaka for six months but stayed 30 years:” An extraordinary expat from Kansas

8 comments on “The Extraordinary Expat – PART 2: “Dhaka was a completely different place back then.””

  1. Jessica, Delightful article. Thanks for the addendum acknowledging Susan Elahi’s passing. I’m Deborah (Hook) Wagner, Susan’s youngest sister. She had a rich life made better by all the people she met living in Dhaka. I have the best memories growing up with the funniest, most devoted friend, wife, sister, mother and teacher. I’m honored to have her as a sister and friend.

    1. Hi Deborah. It’s really nice to hear from you and I’m so very sorry for your loss. I thought she was a really wonderful woman and I hope that yourself and your family are coping through this difficult time. Thinking of you, Jess

  2. What a wonderful blog! I am going through the same yet different when I visit Bangladesh. My parents are Bangladeshi and I was born and bought up in the UK. Ever since my visit to Bangladesh in 2006 I fell head over heels in love with the country and visit every year. I’m looking for a permanent job so I can immigrate there. But problem I often face is that I fit right in to Dhaka appearance wise wearing a Salwar Kameez and strolling the busy shopping malls no one will ever no my background however when I’m asked a question or go to bargain I can’t speak the language or it comes out with a nervous and terrible accent. I practice everyday at home and speak to myself but whenever I go to speak my nervous takeover. I hope that one day can get on a rickshaw by myself and by bread or something!

  3. When I found Susan Elahi’s article I knew that it was meant to be that I read it. You see, I owe my life to her husband Ehsan (Paru) and his family. There isn’t a day that goes by that my husband and I don’t speak about them and remember the extraordinary care and kindness that they showed us that saved my life. In 1969 I was also an American girl who married a Bangladeshi and went with him to Dhaka to live in his joint family home. My husband happens to be the brother of Paru’s grandmother. Unfortunately, the living conditions that I experienced we’re completely the opposite of the cleanliness and the loving care that Susan was blessed to be welcomed into. Out of respect for the dead and to not embarrass those involved who are still living, I can only state that I was living in very unsanitary and abusive conditions sed by other residents of my husband’s home. It was so bad that I contracted hepatitis and was close to death. While I was in the hospital in Dhaka, Paru’s parents came to visit me and told my husband to let them take me to their home and not to send me back to the house that I had been living in because I would surely die if I went back there. My husband wisely accepted their kind offer and I spent the next two months with the most wonderful people in the world. I was treated as a daughter and a sister by Paru’s family. Special food was prepared for me every day and Paru(who was only 14 ) would make the long trip to the best hotel in Dhaka and bring a hamburger home for me so that I could enjoy American food. He and his sisters all showered kindness on me throughout my stay there. His aunt and uncle (Mom and Dad) and his mother and father took me to the best doctors. His uncle Bari got antibiotics from Lebanon as there were none in Dhaka in those days. And yes, their house was palatial and spotless. Cleanliness and civility were always evident in their family. Each person was treated with dignity and respect, a trait not common in the other families that I had contact with at that time. When Susan come to Dhaka, I was hesitant to tell her about what I had gone through because I feared that it might paint a very bad picture of her new country. I am so happy that she and Paru are doing well. I have not been in touch with her for many years but I want her and Paru to know (while we are all still alive) how grateful I am to their family for all that they did for me. My husband and I will always hold a very special place in our hearts for his wonderful family. I hope that this comment will reach them. Dale Yusuf

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