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At Issue

With Philip Shaw

Little Boy in Comilla, Where are you Now?

Tuesday, December 24, 2002

Three years ago, I stepped on a plane for a long journey into some of the deepest parts of South Asia. My journey started on January 2, 2000, a day after the world was supposed to end. While the end of the millennium represented empty hotels and airplanes, January 2nd represented the realization that things were back to normal. Airports were jammed. Planes were flying everywhere. Looking back in this post 9/11 world, it seemed a different time.
I went back to Bangladesh. It is a small country with a very large population in the cradle of the Bay of Bengal between India and Myanmar. And it is very, very poor. I went there on a personal visit to see my former research colleague, partner in crime and friend, Dr. A.K. Enamul Haque. Dr. Haque is now the Chairman of the Economics Department at North South University, Dhaka, Bangladesh.
I knew at the onset, this solitary journey would have its surprises. As the plane took off from Amsterdam, my celebrity as an Ontario soybean producer won me a couple of friends. Sitting beside me was a woman who lived in Holland but was of Indonesian descent. Beside her was a woman from Myanmar (Burma) but currently living in Kuala Lumpur, Indonesia. When they found out I grew soybeans in Canada, both of them extolled how much they enjoyed soybean milk and its related products.
I was a bit taken aback. I had written about the pent up Asian demand for our Ontario soybean products many times before. But here, right next to me, were two examples of Asians who actually bought and enjoyed the fruit of my labour, right out of the fields of Southwestern Ontario.
The plane ride from Sarnia, was 22 hours old in air time when I arrived in Singapore. Wary of my delicate constitution, I was careful to get a couple hours sleep and a shower before I emerged from my bamboo abode for a walk through the city. Seven years earlier, I had sat with an Ontario soybean buyer in a Singapore hotel. He told me at the time, the only way Singapore can survive is to compete and win, every time! And in January 2000, it was obvious. Singaporians were still competing and winning. It was also obvious to me that the rest of Asia was too. A few hours later, I'd get on a plane to my final destination.
As the plane approached Dhaka, the small fires built by the poor mixed with the lights from the ground. It was hard to believe I was back again. And as the plane descended I started to make the mental adjustment I would need for a successful visit. You see, Bangladesh is a third world country, but in essence, it is really fourth world or fifth world. It is one of the poorest of the poor. And I knew, if I didn't adjust mentally, the degree of human depravity I was about to witness would take me down.
After meandering through the airport security, I was greeted by a smallish, Bangladeshi man with security badges. He asked me, "are you Mr. Philip Shaw? Dr.Haque is waiting for you on the outside." As I passed through customs and into the South Asian night, I was engulfed by people wanting to help and little kids begging for something to eat. Bountiful Southwestern Ontario was a long way away.
The next two weeks were full of travel across the country. I met friends from seven years back. I took part in the Muslim Eid celebration, Eid Mubarek. I toured Universities and textile factories. I met with top Bangladeshi economists at the UN building in Dhaka. I even headed out in an old fishing boat along the coast between Bangladesh and Myanmar. And everywhere I went, I watched both little and big people struggling to survive. Simply put, in Bangladesh, everybody if they aren't already, are one short step away from abject poverty.
Unfortunately, there is one thing that hasn't changed a lot over this time. Even though there is lots of food in Bangladesh, there are still a lot of people who are hungry. Seven years previous to my 2000 sojourn, I made my first visit to Bangladesh. Images of that time have stayed with me forever. One of the most vivid images I remember is of a young lad begging for the husk of a coconut which I had drank out of in a train near the town of Comilla. I threw the husk toward him, but unfortunately he was overwhelmed by others grasping for something to eat. He fell and hit the railroad tracks where he started to cry. Meanwhile the train carrying your loyal scribe started to move away. What an empty feeling.
So at Christmas, take time be thankful for what you have. There are many in this world who are much less fortunate than the folks who live right here in Chatham-Kent. Merry Christmas everybody. Have a joyous and festive holiday season.



Philip Shaw, farms 830 acres near Dresden, Ontario. He holds a Masters of Agricultural Economics and Business Degree from the University of Guelph and is a well-known commentator on agricultural issues in print, on radio and over satellite in Canada and the United States. In the Chatham-Kent Times, Phil will use his frank and forthright writing style to address political and economic issues from the local to the international stage. He is a keen observer of political life at all levels, reads widely and has travelled the world to gather fodder for his column. See what's At Issue this week.