PRISCILLA RAJ - AS I KNOW HER

- Chitra Aiyar

Many people I met in Bangladesh had pride in their country. There is a beauty in that kind of nationalism. At least that is how I tried to explain to my South Indian family that I wanted to spend a year in Bangladesh. But the fierce pride that Priscilla has is unique - her idealism and enduring commitment to the upliftment of her country is a rare precious quality that should be safeguarded rather than questioned.

29 November 2002 (New York City) - Last week, I was approached by an acquaintance who was planning on visiting Bangladesh in December for some research work. He wanted some recommendations - places to visit, people to see. I told him that if he really wanted to learn about Bangladesh in a short three-week period, he definitely needed to meet one person - my closest friend in Bangladesh, a woman who is a sister to me, Priscilla Raj. A day later, I received an email from a friend in Bangladesh, informing me about the detention of the Channel 4 journalists. And to my shock and horror, I learned that Priscilla was being detained with them.

In December, 1999, I arrived in Bangladesh as a Fulbright Scholar to research Bangladesh's success in providing primary education to poor, rural girls. My first priority was to learn Bangla and I went looking for a teacher. Someone recommended Priscilla Raj and I went to meet her. At that point, I knew the alphabet and basic reading and writing and felt fairly proud of myself at what I considered to be my fast progress. I met Priscilla at Alliance Francaise and from there we walked to the Art College and Dhaka University. Everywhere we went, Priscilla knew people and our lesson was constantly interrupted by friends coming for a chat. At the end of a few hours, I was extremely excited. I told Priscilla that I was excited for her to be my teacher, but even more excited to have my first Bangladeshi friend. Priscilla was less enthusiastic. She told me she wanted to think about whether or not she wanted to have me as a student; she wanted to know how serious I was about learning Bangla and how serious my interest was in Bangladesh.

I had come to Bangladesh determined to do my best to live like a local Bangladeshi. Yet, I was lonely when I first arrived and there initially was a temptation to live the expatriate life in Banani or Gulshan, spending nights at the American Club discussing "development." And then I met Priscilla and I knew that she would refuse to have me as a student if I lived life in Bangladesh as a foreigner. So I moved into a simple flat on the outskirts of Dhanmondi near Jigatala - a flat with no overhead fan, no refrigerator, no telephone, no television. People asked me how I managed and I said that I wanted to learn about Bangladesh.

After that first lesson, I stayed up all night trying to improve my Bangla. Priscilla accepted me as her student, but she was a strict taskmaster. More than teaching me Bangla, Priscilla taught me about Bangladesh, and what it means to love Bangladesh. With Priscilla, I went to Shaheed Minar at midnight to pay my respects to the martyrs and in her mother's dining room, I learned to appreciate the difference a good meal of bhat, dal, and mach. I learned to sing Rabindra Sangeet and the songs of Lalon.

As my research on BRAC schools progressed, I began to think about writing a book. Although my Bangla had developed, it was not proficient enough to conduct in-depth interviews. And Priscilla began to work as my interpreter. I do not know much about the Channel 4 journalists, but I know they were lucky to have Priscilla translating for them. Priscilla would carefully tape-record her interviews and transcribe them word for word. When I wanted to ask questions which she felt were too simple or would offend the interviewee, she would explain to me that my questions were inappropriate. There were definitely times when I felt frustrated with Priscilla; I thought she was being too critical of me. I wanted some quick simple answers, some good quote I could just insert into a chapter, but Priscilla would speak to people for a long time, making sure she understood all the facts, all the different sides of the story. Priscilla is committed to telling the truth, to getting the full story. I don't know whether to laugh or cry when I read in some newspapers that Priscilla is part of a propaganda scheme operated by foreigners to make Bangladesh look bad.

I know Priscilla Raj and I know her love for her country. I know her irritation with me when I would be lazy and speak to her in English instead of Bangla. Or her irritation if I showed off my American ignorance. I remember riding with her through villages and Priscilla identifying all the different trees, flowers, and birds we saw and making sure I knew how to cal them by their Bangla names. I remember her constant lectures to me about the importance of knowing your culture. .

Many people I met in Bangladesh had pride in their country. There is a beauty in that kind of nationalism. At least that is how I tried to explain to my South Indian family that I wanted to spend a year in Bangladesh. But the fierce pride that Priscilla has is unique - her idealism and enduring commitment to the upliftment of her country is a rare precious quality that should be safeguarded rather than questioned.

Anyone who knows Priscilla knows that she is always working on a number of projects. Once she interviewed some girls who had been thrown out of their garment factories for being too young. They were supposed to be in vocational school, but the plan had fallen through. Priscilla convinced a friend who ran an electronics factory to provide training and jobs for six girls. In the evenings, Priscilla would sit with her mother's servant-maid, Sharmin, teaching her to read and to do math so that she could sit for her class exams. Priscilla could walk for hours without complaining. After long days of fieldwork, I would collapse on the floor, exhausted, but Priscilla would always be in action; cooking in the kitchen, painting a picture, or singing beautiful Rabindersangeet while cleaning the house. I always felt a bit lazy in her presence and I would try to live up to her standard.

I spent this past summer in my mother country, India, in the state of Tamil Nadu. About a week before I was scheduled to depart, I felt something calling me to Bangladesh. So I took the 36 hour train ride from Chennai to Kolkata and crossed the border by jeep and then travelled from the border to Dhaka by bus. At the border, I was stopped because my American passport stood out among the Bangladeshi and Indian passports. The guards asked me if I was Bangalee. I said no, I was an Indian, born in America, but that my heart was in Bangladesh. I said I was dreaming of some good bhat dal and mach and the best place to eat that meal in the world was in my friend Priscilla's house in Dhaka. And so I spent a whirlwind 48 hours in Bangladesh, just pleased to be back in my second home.

I love Bangladesh - I love the green of the villages, the friendliness of the people, the brilliance of the monsoon, and the art, music, and poetry that pervades daily life. After spending a year and a half in Bangladesh, I behave like a public relations officer with my family in the US and India. I try to convince everyone I know to travel to Bangladesh and witness the beauty of the country firsthand. It pains me when I read articles that paint Bangladesh in a bad light.

I know Priscilla well and I know that she would not knowingly participate in any anti-state activities. Her loyalty to her country is unquestionable. If she was serving as the translator to the Channel Four reporters, be assured that she was making sure that the foreigners received all the facts about the situation.

I know that Priscilla has been detained and denied contact with her family and her lawyers. I urge the concerned authorities to please grant her the basic rights under the Bangladesh Constitution. On Wednesday, she will go before the judge and I pray that reason will prevail, and that she will be released.

Chitra Aiyar was a Fulbright Scholar in Bangladesh from 1999 to 2001. She currently is attending law school in New York City.

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