Here, you throw your trash out the window

Yesterday morning, a little after eight, I climbed into the micro bus with Fatama and Aysha. Fatama and Aysha both work in the CHX-OR part of the Projahnmo project. CHX-OR (which stands for introduction of Chlorhexidine Operations Research) is running a trial of cleaning infant umbilical cords with a 4% Chlorhexidine solution in an effort to keep them from becoming infected. The trial is now in its second phase, where Projahnmo has introduced a squirt bottle to use in application rather than an open mouthed one that requires the use of a cotton ball and more physical contact.

I had been invited to join them at a training for Traditional Birth Attendants (TBAs), which was taking place in a GoB Union Health and Family Wellfare Center about an hour and a half outside of the city. This clinic was considerably cleaner than the last I had visited, but much emptier.
When we arrived, the room was already mostly full of older women, all wearing head coverings. I think there were probably 20 to 25 women present for the training, and when they went around introducing themselves, they were asked to also say how many births they had attended in the last two months. Almost everyone said between 2 and 4. The Field Research Officer who sat next to me said, if each of them is delivering between 2 and 4 babies in two months in this one Union, that is a lot of babies.
The training was not unlike others I've been to, even ones in the States. Fatama and Aysha talked about how to use a Delivery Packet (which includes a large plastic sheet to lay under the mother, three sterile threads to tie off the umbilical cord, one sterile razor blade to cut it, two sterile gauze pads, and a bar of soap) and, using the best newborn baby doll ever, showed how to clean the cord with the CHX and how to wrap up the baby (first drying/wiping it off with one clean cloth, and then wrapping it with another-avoiding a bath).
The difference in this training was that none of the TBAs could read. The handouts all were in pictures, there was heavy emphasis on visual props, and a lot of discussion. This was great for me (not knowing the language) and seemed to be pretty effective. However, after two role plays disintigrated into heated discussion, Fatama translated for me that they had all decided that they would share the information their way. I had been wondering about that. It seems that it would be very easy to use just parts of the training without the others.
After tea, the session turned to how to distribute and sell CHX to families. TBAs and Village Doctors can sell the solution, but if the family can't or doesn't want to buy it (it is only 45 taka, super super cheap) they can come to a government facility and recieve it for free. The hitch here is that the TBAs are unable to provide written documentation of who they sold it to, when, or for how much. Interestingly, they were all handed out notebooks and pens, and Aysha explained to me that the hope is that maybe some of their clients or maybe their family members can help them with recording.
As the training wrapped up, Fatama arranged for me to talk to two TBAs on our own, providing herself as an interpreter. Though she struggles with English, she did a great job considering the complexities of the questions I was asking (what do you do when you are not attending a delivery?) and the answers we were recieving (sometimes I gather wood, like this, and cut it, like this, and sell it to families who need it to make their cooking fires. Mostly, my children are hungry.) Both of the women are widows (so though they have nose piercings, they will never wear an ornament again) and they each had more than five children, of which only one- the youngest son -was in school. They do not attend deliveries for payment, believing that God knows this is good work and they will be rewarded with heaven. Sometimes though, a family will pay them 50 to 100 taka. Fatama translated at the end, "they share their stories and hardships with many people, but this does not solve their problems. Maybe it will help you solve yours."
After our interview, the women were really friendly and warm. They took my hands and touched their heads and hearts. When we took a photo together (shown above), they were both holding my hands.
Fatama and Aysha were excellent traveling companions, on the way home they pointed out lots of things and asked me lots of questions. Fatama got very excited about a song on the radio, and after singing along with every word, translated it for me. It was about a young man who couldn't get married to the one he loved because he did not have a job. Then, he got a job and called her on a payphone to tell her, but he kept getting the wrong number. She explained that this was a favorite song among university students because many of them are in love with people who are poorer than they but their fiances are very wealthy.
Today, Friday, is the only day of the weekend here, though Kahala and many other people work on this day too. Next week, Dr. Salahuddin has been so kind as to arrange many interviews and visits for me, about which I am super excited.
The heavy clouds that seemed to hang low right over the tree tops have finally begun to pour down their cool rain, which is much appreciated after three days of dense hot humidity. Little boys are running screaming through the big puddles outside my window.

A Visit to the Hills

Yesterday, Dr. Salahuddin invited me to come out with his family and Neela to do some sight-seeing in Sylhet. At first I thought he meant the city, but in fact he meant the more rural area of the district that is well-known for its natural beauty. Dr. Salahuddin and his family are extremely nice people. His wife has a big friendly smile and his daughter is super cute and very shy. Rajib's mother also joined us, and I gather that the two families are very close. His mother, who everyone just calls Auntie, also smiles warmly at me, and her unusual green-grey eyes crinkle nicely in the corners.

The ride in the mini bus was longer than I expected, but oh-my-gosh so beautiful. Some of the area we went through was almost jungle-like, and every once in a while we drove through the middle of a bustling market scene, honking repeatedly at the masses standing around in the road. After about 20 minutes, hazy blue hills became visible in the distance. Neela said, "Look Natalie, that is India."

We went by field after field, following a very straight road going north (I think). Trees had been planted all along the roadside, and people squatted in the shade next to bundles of grass. The light became yellower as the sun began its slow desent, and soon we were passing huge piles of beautiful light-colored river stones. They were sorted out into piles according to size, and some were being ground into fine gravel. Sylhet gets a lot of its wealth from its stones, natural gas, and tea.

As we came into the low foothills, we began to see the tea gardens. Tea is grown a lot like coffee on hills as an understory. Neela said it is beautiful to watch the women pick tea, because the carry this basket on their back and as they go, throw the tea over their shoulders, like a type of dance. It is not the time to pick the tea, so I did not see this myself, but the tea plants and the hills they populate are gorgeous.

The first place we stopped was the India-Bangladesh border. You cannot cross without a visa, but we wandered around and took pictures in no-man's-land for a while. I felt bad for the bored soldiers standing around, they must have been really hot in their heavy uniforms.

The next place we stopped was a sweet overlook across the valley into an Indian town. It was fortuitous that we had arrived as the sun was getting low, and everything seem to glow.

Lastly, we stopped on a hill overlooking a river. It was swarming with boats and people, and the orange sun was blazing. We collected stones and watched as people tied up their boats to go home. We were in an area where stone is collected and brick is made, and the people were all thin and muscled. This was also the first place that I saw many women working, and they were working very hard.

Driving home in the dark in Bangladesh was an exercise in self-calming techniques. Because only some vehicles have headlights, and most of the traffic on the road are people and animals anyway, we were constantly almost on top of someone or something before our (very skilled) driver swerved smoothly around them. I was interested to note that though it felt as though we were going very fast, a glance at the spedometer showed that we were only going about 35 km per hour (there is however, the possibility that the spedometer was not accurate).

It was a grand adventure, and the pictures I got were lovely.

After coming back to the office and to "get fresh myself", I joined what seemed like the whole office at for dinner at what must be one of the nicest restaurants in Sylhet. We could have been anywhere in the world. It was a rooftop restaurant called Spicy, with strings of lights, and a view of the whole city. The food and tea were delish and I had the opportunity to learn ALL about cricket from the four men sitting around me. At my comment that it appeared to be a lot like baseball in some ways, everyone shook their heads (what a silly American) and explained that it is considerably more complex, and besides, it can take a whole day to play a match.

Tomorrow I am thrilled to have the chance to observe a training specifically for Traditional Birth Attendants (TBAs), I think this coming week is going to be absolutely awesome, with three Field visits and many interviews scheduled.

how the ants were told a lesson

Yesterday was a very interesting day, full of little adventures. At seven-thirty most of the Sylhet staff piled into vans and headed out for the far end of the Field for the first Coordination Meeting. The meeting took place in one of the government clinic facilities, and was a meeting between Projahnmo staff and government staff to clear up data collecting process and hand out the contraceptives that are to be distributed. I did not understand much during the actual meetings (though I wrote down pages of vocabulary words) but it was in the times in the car to and from places that I learned a lot. When I can post pictures to go along with those stories, I will share them.
In the meantime, I will share with you the story of How the Ants were told a Lesson, roughly translated from Kahala's, words by a laughing Pintu. She said this was a story that I should tell my children so that they would know more than I had.

One evening (last evening) a young white woman came running down the stairs without her shoes on. She told Kahala, who was cooking rice for dinner, that there were many things running around her room. Kahala did not understand and came up to look. She saw that there were a great many ants making a line from the bathroom to the wall.
Seeing that the young white woman would prefer not to have so many ants on her shoes, Kahala called Pintu who brought a newspaper and rolled it up. Kahala took matches out of her waist band and lit the end of the roll on fire. Pintu swept at the ants until they died. The young white woman thought this solution was great and said thank you many times, until Kahala told her to shush. Pintu got the stick broom and swept up the dead ants into a piece of paper and tossed them out the window.

It was very smokey, so Kahala told the young white woman to open the porch door and keep the fan on. Worried that she would not know to close the door again when she left the room, Kahala came back up the stairs with her after dinner to make sure that she did. In the morning, there was burnt floor butthere were no ants.

The end.

Pictures!

I'm sorry that these pictures turned out so small! Something keeps happening when I try to upload them in a larger size.

This is my best shot (we were driving) of one of the many brick factories that dot the water/field covered landscape. Tamanna explained that the governement demands they be built a certain distance away from towns, and that the tower (which I didn't capture much of) must be 90 meters high. I'm not sure if either of these regulations were met however, at least, I'm not sure how one judges where a town ends around here, because there are people living just about everywhere.

These children found me very interesting. Their big eyes barely blinked as they watched my every move. I felt very self-conscious, and was relieved when my smile was eventually returned with gap-toothed grins.

This picture is how I will always remember Bangladesh. Though it is missing the fisherman/farmer, with his wide, pointed hat, it is how most of rural Sylhet looks.

This is Rajib on the wobbling bamboo bridge. What you can't see in the picture is the crowd of kids in the water beneath him who do not bother with the bridge. One of my favorite observations so far is that people only use umbrellas when the sun is out. Being wet here is just how it is.

You can find peanuts just about anywhere

I have been having a wonderful time, and every hour seems quite packed. I do not think I can attempt to sum up everything that has happened in the past couple of days, so I will just share a summary of today, which was an amazing and thought-provoking day.
I was very grateful to have the opportunity to join Dr. Daniel and Rajib on a trip out to the Field today. We left early, the Projahnmo drivers being more punctual than any I've yet encountered, and took off on the highway out of the city of Sylhet. We passed fruit markets and brick factories, fields and fields of grain, fancy mosques and dilapidated school buildings. We swerved around cows and buses, around children and long-bearded men, out of the way baby taxis, and into the other lane. I sat with my nose glued to the window, trying hard to think of good questions to ask and constantly being distracted by some new fascinating sight. I saw huge fishing nets and small children placing concrete blocks into straight lines. I saw a few women covered head to toe and women not wearing headscarves hurrying along the roadside. I saw road signs signaling "people crossing" where the crowd was so dense that people were practically leaning on our mini bus. I saw houses on islands down skinny paths, and ducks that look similar to the ones that swim in our pond in New York. I saw children in school uniforms and a herd of water buffalo. It was cool in the airconditioning, but steamy outside.

We got out of the mini bus when we reached a road that was too skinny and I followed Rajib into a rickshaw. Dr. Daniel rode on the back of a motorcycle, but I gather that that would be inappropriate for me. The rickshaw ride was awesome. Our driver kept up a running commentary, over which Rajib answered my questions and sometimes tried to explain things. For example, we kept driving over mats covered in grain that were strewn across the road. Rajib explained that the roads are the best place to dry things, and when I asked if people minded their things being run over, he just gave me a look. Why would people put things in the road without expecting them to be runover?
We arrived at a small compound surrounded by squared off sections of wetland. We crossed the most precarious bridge made of a single thin bamboo trunk supported by several triangle supports that were equally flimsy. It did the job however, and I managed to do it without slipping. I felt very self conscious though because a rather large crowd had gathered. Rajib explained that normally not this many people hung around the house all day, they were just curiuos about me. Everyone had beautiful big brown eyes, and when I smiled would smile enthusiastically back at me.
I was welcomed into the home, and met the CHW who was attending the mother and baby inside. I also got to meet the the mother-in-law who had delivered the baby in that very room. This was a 3-day check-in, which I was allowed to watch. Dr. Daniel and Rajib translated for me, but it was very hard to ask the questions I wanted to because they were men and there were other men present, which means that the woman would be very embarassed and/or not tell the truth. I did little but watch and say thank you many many times. I felt quite overwhelmed by all the hospitality and kindness.
We rickshawed our way back down the winding path, and got back into the mini bus. We drove a bit more and arrived at a second home. In this house I had the incredible privilage to talk (through Dr. Daniel) to three midwives who have attended thousands of births. None of them can read, and they do not ask to be paid. It was again hard to ask some of the questions that I really wanted to ask, but it was really just amazing to hear a little about their lives and what they do.
On the way to lunch we made a detour to the edge of a big river. Dr. Daniel said, look, that is India! The border gaurds looked lazily up at us, and Rajib pointed out that the boats each have a flag showing which country they are from. He said that during festivals, which are often, the border becomes lax because so many people have family right on the other side.

We ate lunch at one of the two field offices in the region where there is also a school run by Shimantik, the NGO that is one of the three main organizations working on the Projahnmo project. The ride home was beautiful and long, and I think we were all a little relieved to get out of the mini bus after such a bumpy ride. Tomorrow, I will attend the end of the CHW training, and then maybe get a chance to go out around the city. If I can, I will try and upload some photos for you, though they do not show just how stunning this country and its people are.

Pictures!

This is my mom and me in our garb, however, I have now learned that we are not wearing our scarves quite the right way (though Kahala expressed that we totally get bonus points for trying). I'll endevour to get a picture of how they're supposed to be worn.

Because to leave a building I must have an escort, my best picture oportunities are out windows.
Every rooftop is useful, below is just one of my growing collection of rooftop garden shots. Below is a picture from the CHW training. The teacher is demonstrating, using awesome plastic replicas of the female reproductive system, how to teach about conception.
More to come soon!

More Languages!

It has been an exciting couple of days! Everyone has been extraordinarily welcoming and helpful, and to my great relief, have a sense of humor that I understand. Most people in the office speak at least a little English, but with a heavy accent to which I am slowly becoming accustomed. I am also learning to adjust my accent and vocabulary so that my spoken English is easier to understand. It has been challenging, but in the best of ways, as understanding how people speak and explain words that they do not know is an extremely helpful guide to culture and process.

However, not everyone speaks some English. The cook and other "office assistants" as they are called (the drivers, the men who bring tea mid-morning and afternoon, the woman who cleans), speak only Bangla. I should note here that the Bangla they speak in Sylhet is different than the language spoken in the rest of Bangladesh, and as Dr. Daniel explained to me today, is infused with Hindi and Farsi as well as a local dialect. About half of the people working in the office come from outside of Sylhet, and so it is that the words that I am learning are partially one kind of Bangla and partially another. I would rely more on sign language, but hand and head motions here are completely different than at home. For example, when someone waves in what I consider to be a "come here" wave, it means stay, or shut the door. It's like learning a whole new sign and body language on top of it all.

I have been trying my very best to get to know everyone from whom I am learning, studying the list of staff names that was given to me, and trying to have a conversation with those that I can. The cook, Kahala (which means "auntie") and I bonded when she came into my room last night to help me put up my misquito netting. She looked around, adjusted her head covering, and went about reorganizing my things. When she was done, everything was placed in a way that made a lot more sense. I don't really know how to explain it, except by compairing it to a permaculture design method, that is, note access and circulation routes and then map around them. I had placed my things as though my room were a closet, whereas she placed them as though my room was a house...if that makes any sense. Anyway, something about having another person create your personal space is helpful to forming a relationship. I was also rewarded for enthusiastically eating the (fabulous) dinner that she laid out for me, with fresh bananas. These were no ordinary bland store bananas. These were the sweetest, most fragrant bananas ever.

Rashed left yesterday, leaving the timid, yet very consciencious Rajib as his stand-in. Rajib has been very kind, giving me an excellent briefing, in which he told me every thing that I had read in the project briefing and during which I learned a great deal about how he thinks and prefers to interact. He gave me a bunch of reading to do, which has all been fascinating, and invited me to come to a Community Health Workers (CHWs) training in the afternoon. I also had a meeting with Ahmed Salahuddin, the project manager, who invited me to his home tomorrow for dinner, to meet his wife and four-year-old daughter.

Here, Fridays are the only day of the weekend, but the CHW training will continue through Sunday, I believe. I had an absolutely wonderful time at the afternoon session today (they were learning about family planning methods, specifically the pill) and had the opportunity to meet several of the women staff. I was very excited to be invited back for tomorrow's sessions by Training Officer Tamanna and Dr. Daniel. In the interest of time, I will elaborate more on the characters I meet in later posts as I go a long. Obviously I could not understand every thing that was going on because of the language, but it allowed me to carefully observe how everyone was acting. Since this was a room of women being trained in leadership roles, it had a very different atmosphere than I have previously been in here.

It is raining again outside, which is doing little to cool the air, but making a very soothing sound as the big drops hit the roof. It is summer time here, which means the season right before the monsoons. Mostly it rains in the late afternoon and at night, and though I knew this, I was not prepared for the ferocity of the thunderstorm last night. As the thunder died away, the call to prayer from the mosque took over, and I lay awake in the humid darkness noticing that it is only in the wee hours that there are no bicycle horns to be heard.

Arriving in Sylhet

I'm sorry I had to cut the last post short, electricity here, though redily available most places (so far) sometimes cuts out unexpectedly. I will finish the last post by saying that we got into Dhaka with no problems at all and were met at the airport by a friendly driver from our hotel. We found our hotel to be very nice, tried to stay awake long enough to eat a small dinner and soon after went to bed. Because we were both very jetlagged, my mom and I woke up pretty early and had enough time to check our email and pack up our things before going into Dhaka to aquire some appropriate clothes.

Appropriate clothes for women are clothes that do not show the womanly shape, i.e. shirts that are long enough to cover the bottom and a scarf to further abscure the top. Outfits that are specially designed to work like this are called Salwar Kameezes (it is spelled all sorts of ways) and it was these that we were in search of. Our driver took us out to find a store that sells them, but it was too early and none of them were open. To my excitement, we had to go to a market. The market was humming with activity, smelly, crowded, and amazing. It was a maze of alleyways lined with stalls selling everything from buttons to sheep. There were several selling scarves and salwar kameezes, and with the help of our wonderful driver and an older lady that appeared from and disappeared into nowhere, aquired two beautiful outfits and a couple of scarves. I adored all of the scarves and was hard-pressed to choose.

After that, we headed back to the airport, but to the domestic gates this time. After some hiccups, we finally got on a plane to Sylhet a couple hours behind schedule. One of the reasons for the delay was that it was raining very hard in Sylhet.

The airplane ride was not long, but it was very bumpy, causing the passengers behind us to forcefully grab our seats every so often. The collective gasps when we dipped also added to the dramatic feel. We were, however, served more snacks on that 35 minute flight than I have ever been served on any flight before. The best part was the mango juice box.

My first impression from the air of Sylhet was that it was the wettest land I had ever seen. Fields were lakes and lakes were fields and roads were rivers and rivers were roads. I wondered if to land we would just sink into a wet field.

We had a smooth landing on a solid-- if flooded--runway, and were handed umbrellas at the door to our plane to splash our way to the airport. We got our luggage quickly and after making our way through the thronged door, were met by a smiling Dr. Rashed, the Projahnmo Project Coordinator. He took us to the office where we met staff, had a tour, and ate lunch. Everyone was very kind and welcoming, and I accepted the offer to stay in a room on the second floor. After a brief introduction to everyone, my mother and I were driven to a hotel for the night. We both wanted to sleep badly, but had to try and stay awake to help our bodies get used to this time-zone. I mostly watched bad TV while she worked and after a small dinner, we thankfully fell asleep.

We have arrived in Dhaka, Bangladesh!

According to the Save the Children Bangladesh Country Office Briefing's Country Description, "Bangladesh is a small country with nearly 150 million people...In recent years, Bangladesh has improved child and maternal mortality rates, reduced population growth, increased the number of children enrolled in school, and has already reached the Millennium Development Goal (MDG) of gender parity in education. However, despite these gains, Bangladesh remains one of the poorest countries in the world with approximately 45% of the population living below the poverty line. Over a third of the population is under the age of 18 and almost seven million children between five and 14 have to work to help their families survive."

My mother and I left for our adventure in Bangladesh early on Sunday morning from JFK airport in New York City. The flight to Dubai was about twelve hours, and for the most part in the dark. During the last two hours though, we got to watch the sunrise.


It was too hazy to see much when we landed, but the airport itself is as crazy as I've heard the humanmade islands and city are. Among the odd decorations were space ships and fizzy-looking light fixtures.

Also, I had to take a picture of this excellent North Face rip-off
This was the best picture (below) I could get over Dubai as we left. That island there is being made with sand that is being pumped out to sea.

We flew across India to get to Bangladesh, which was amazing when we could see it. There were beautiful mountains and ravines.
After so much desert, Bangladesh looks positively juicy. Even from the air it looks lush and vibrant. You could see the rice fields and ponds as we landed.

Planting Seedlings!

At one of my permaculture workshops, Ken Greene came to talk to us about local seeds and seed saving. Already enthused, I totally bought into his presentation about Local Seed Libraries. The way these work is that instead of buying your seeds from a big corporate seed seller (like Monsanto) you buy your seeds from a Local Seed Library, buying their local varieties and saving your seeds to strengthen and grow those. Ken started the Hudson Valley Seed Library, which says it "is a homestead-based farm and business devoted to developing a seed production network in our region. Using hand tools and low-tech processes, we cultivate dozens of varieties of agronomic plants on our own farm. We also collaborate with certified organic, certified naturally grown, and other small growers throughout our region to grow additional varieties." Basically, I think they are awesome. I ordered seeds from their (also awesome) website (www.seedlibrary.org) and was elated when they arrived a few days ago!

I started some broccoli and sweet basil....

some goldie tomatoes, rainbow swiss chard, and bridge to Paris peppers...and set them all up in our make-shift green house to sprout. I'll direct sow my flowers (zinnias, calendoula, sunflowers, and nasturtiums), cukes, and beans after the last frost (which is around Memorial Day in this area).

I am so excited to be starting the food I eat from seeds that I know where grown in and for this area, by people who love their plants and soil. I am also thrilled to be starting in on a cycle of sustainable food production, the knowledge of which I treasure as a tool of import and value.

Bangladesh!

Check out a map of Bangladesh at the Lonely Planet website:
http://www.lonelyplanet.com/maps/asia/bangladesh/

I am, with great excitement, looking forward to my next big trip! In about ten days, I will be heading to Bangladesh to do some anthropological, ethnographical studies. My mother (yet again!) was amazing and helped me set this up, as she was planning a trip herself. I have had the opportunity to be in touch with a project called Projahnmo, which is working in partnership with Save The Children and USAID among others, to work toward lowering neonatal mortality in rural Bangladesh.

Bangladesh is a densely populated small South Asian country, bordered by Maynmar and primarily India. It lies right on the Ganges River Delta, and not very high above sea level. It is country that will definitely be severely affected by global warming, as Wikipedia says, “Most parts of Bangladesh are less than 12 metres (39 ft) above the sea level, and it is believed that about 50% of the land would be flooded if the sea level were to rise by a metre (3 ft).” According to the article on Bangladesh in the CIA World Factbook, it has a tropical climate, and I will be there during the “hot, humid summer (March to June).” It goes on to say that most people are Muslim or Hindu, and there is about a 43% literacy rate.

My hope in my studies there, is that I will gain a wider perspective on health and development projects, their effectiveness and methods. It will have to be with great care and self-awareness that I study, and I would love to have conversations and receive advice in this week before I leave.

Bread!

My cousin, Jesse, did a fabulous job punching this dough down.

In an effort to lower the number of pre-wrapped, corn syrup-infused goods coming into our household, I've been doing a lot of bread and cookie baking. I found two excellent and easy recipes right away, and have been kind of clinging to their simple safety. However, I found a yummy recipe for a Simple Whole Wheat Bread (allrecipes.com) yesterday and, feeling adventurous, decided to try it out. It makes three loaves, is pretty tasty (especially served hot with honey, but that's always the case with fresh-baked bread), and is not as dense as other whole wheat breads.

SIMPLE WHOLE WHEAT BREAD
What You'll Need:
Water
Honey
Salt
Yeast
Bread Flour
Whole Wheat Flour
Butter

1. In a big bowl, mix 3 cups of warm water with 2 packages of yeast and 1/3 cup honey.
2. Stir in 5 cups of bread flour and let sit 30 minutes.
3. Mix in 3 tablespoons of butter, 1/3 cup of honey, and 1 tablespoon of salt.
4. Stir in 2 cups of whole wheat flour, knead and add more flour until not too sticky.
5. Grease a clean bowl and put dough in it, flipping dough once so the whole surface gets a coating.
6. Cover bowl with damp cloth and leave in a warm place to rise.
7. When dough has doubled in size, punch down and let rise again.
8. Using a wet knife, divide dough into three loaves and place in bread pans, let rise another 15 minutes or so
9. Bake at 350 degrees for 25-30 minutes.
10. Lightly brush the tops of the loaves with 2 tablespoons of melted butter.