By: Mitali Perkins / Illustrated by: Jamie HoganNaima is a talented painter of traditional alpana patterns, which Bangladeshi women and girls paint on their houses for special celebrations. But Naima is not satisfied with just painting alpana. She wants to
Flash Sale Ongoing
By: Mitali Perkins / Illustrated by: Jamie Hogan
Naima is a talented painter of traditional alpana patterns, which Bangladeshi women and girls paint on their houses for special celebrations. But Naima is not satisfied with just painting alpana. She wants to help earn money for her family, like her best friend, Saleem, does for his family. When Naima’s rash effort to help puts her family deeper in debt, she draws on her resourceful nature and her talents to save the day.
Includes a glossary of Bangla words and an author’s note aboutmicrofinance and the changing world of Bangladesh.
If you like this book, youll enjoy these:
Tiger Boy
Me and Rolly Maloo
[TABS]
Watch an interview with Mitali Perkins from Girls Leadership:
Mitali Perkins, author
Mitali studied political science at Stanford University and public policy at U.C. Berkeley, surviving academia thanks to a steady diet of kids’ books from public libraries and bookstores, and went on to teach middle school, high school, and college students. She lived in India, Bangladesh, Thailand, and California with her husband and twin sons
Mitali lives in Northern California with her family.
Read more about Mitali.
Jamie Hogan, illustrator
Jamie Hogan grew up in the White Mountains of New Hampshire and graduated from Rhode Island School of Design with a BFA in Illustration. She began her freelance career in Boston, with work appearing frequently in the Boston Globe. She taught editorial illustration at the Art Institute of Boston and became active in the Graphic Artists Guild. Her illustrations have been included in American Illustration, PRINT Magazine, Graphis, and the Society of Illustrators. Jamies work evolved into a collage style and her clients included San Francisco Focus, Mother Jones, and the Los Angeles Times.
Jamie lives in Maine with her family.
Read more about Jamie.
Kirkus Reviews
Money is tight, and Naima wants to do something to help her family. If only she were a boy like her friend Saleem, she’d be able to drive her father’s rickshaw and add to the family’s income. Naima does have a special talent; she can paint beautiful alpanas–traditional patterns used by women to decorate Bangladeshi homes during special occasions–but how can this help her make money? When Naima decides to disguise herself as a boy and drive the rickshaw, she accidentally crashes it, and the family’s debt soars even higher. Now Naima is more determined than ever to help her family–and prove that being a girl can be a good thing. Straightforward black-and-white pastel illustrations incorporate alpana patterns and depict various elements of Naima’s daily life, and a helpful Bangla glossary and informative notes are included. A child-eye’s view of Bangladesh that makes a strong and accessible statement about heritage, tradition and the changing role of women, Naima’s story will be relished by students and teachers alike.
Booklist
Perkins draws on her family roots to tell the lively contemporary story of a young Bangladeshi girl who challenges the traditional role of women in her village so that she can help her struggling family in hard times. Naima’s parents cannot afford to pay school fees for her anymore, but she wins the village prize for painting the best traditional alpanas patterns. She wishes she could help her father drive his rickshaw, and one day, disguised as a boy, she drive–and crashes–it. How will they afford to fix the dents and tears? More than just a situation, this short chapter book tells a realistic story with surprises that continue until the end. Hogan’s bold black-and-white sketches show the brave girl, the beautiful traditional alpana painting and rickshaw art, and the contemporary changes in the girl’s rural home. An author’s note and a glossary enhance the moving story.
The PlanetEsme Plan
As I read this book over winter break, the shocking thought came over me like a slow-rising sun: “I can’t wait to get back to school and read this aloud!” I actually went to the calendar and counted the days before I could introduce children 8 and up to the brave and resourceful (if sometimes impulsive) Naima. By painting delicate and award-winning alpana patterns on her Bangladeshi home for special celebrations, this little girl has brought pride to her family, but what she really longs to do is help her father earn money. Each passing day her friend Saleem passes in his rickshaw, and each passing day also distances her from him, Naima’s role as a young woman in her village becoming more pronounced and more frustrating. When she tries to maneuver her father’s beautiful, newly-painted rickshaw, it appears she has brought rack and ruin to her family, possibly even causing her mother to sell a cherished bangle that has been passed down through generations. Dressed as a boy, she tries to create a new solution that will prevent further hardship, and in doing so is surprised to discover that new solutions are emerging, and from her own gender.
This book is beautifully and universally written, playing skillfully on all children’s desires to be helpful to their families, and their natural propensities to rally against the unjust. Though there is some regional vocabulary, the writing is so sparkling clear that it can be comprehended in context, though a partially illustrated glossary is also included. Terse pacing makes for a perfectly cliffhanging read-aloud, and descriptive prowess brings every scene to life. Gracefully drawn charcoal spot illustrations that suggest the paper’s texture are a perfect accent to the story. Use this realistic tale to springboard into discussions of whether boys and girls can really do the same things, and also as a way to introduce the very modern and important idea of microlending programs (a new economic model that earned Mohammed Yunus a recent Nobel Peace Prize), through which children will be delighted to discover they can make a huge difference in the world, even with a few coins.
Vanessa, Massachusetts, age 10
Thank you for letting me read these books. I felt so joyful that I just kept reading! You asked me what I thought about the books and I think they’re great! Diary Of A Would Be Princess was a great book because it teaches girls how to be themselves. That’s what Jillian James is trying to do but she thinks too much about being popular. She really thinks outside of the box. Rickshaw Girl just blew me away. The book made perfect sense. Everything you did to make the book good worked! And what I like about Rickshaw Girl is that it teaches girls a lesson. The lesson I figured out was that girls can do anything just like guys can and that’s what Naima the main character in the story does. Naima is a girl that was trying to help her father fix his rickshaw after she crashed it! All the books are wonderful and Charlesbridge publishes the best books.
School Library Journal
Ten-year-old Naima longs to earn money to help her poor Bangladeshi family, but her talent in painting traditional patterns, or alpanas, is no use. While considering whether she could disguise herself as a boy and try to drive her fathers rickshaw, she wrecks the vehicle and its painted tin sides on a test-drive, threatening the familys sole livelihood. Her solution is to steal away, disguised as a boy, to a repair shop and offer her services painting decorations on the rickshaws. She is surprised to find that the owner is a woman. When Naima reveals herself, she is hired on the condition that her father will keep bringing her for training at the shop, so that her paintings will help the business. The future looks bright for the girl and her family. Short chapters, well-delineated characters, soft black-line pastel illustrations, and a child-appropriate solution enrich this easy-to-read chapter book that would also appeal to less-able middle school readers. The rich back matter includes an informative glossary of Bangla words, plus a valuable authors note that explains the process of microfinance and its results for poor women in rural markets.
Library Media Connection
Rickshaw Girl is a timely book that introduces the reader to the idea of micro loans. Naima lives in a Bangladesh village. If she were a boy she could help her father bring income to the family. One day as her father is resting, Naima tries to drive the family’s rickshaw. It ends in a heap at the bottom of the hill. After the crash father has to work harder each day to make more money, but often people do not want to ride in his rickshaw because of the damaged condition. Naima comes up with a plan to help her family. With the help of her friend Saleem, she dresses up as a boy and heads to the neighboring village to see if she can get work at the rickshaw repair shop. As Naima arrives she is surprised to find that this shop is run by a woman. But Naima proves herself and gets to work to pay for the repairs of her father’s rickshaw. This book is a good introduction to how small businesses can help families in poorer countries.
The Bulletin of the Center for Children’s Books
In the rural Bangladesh village where ten-year-old Naima lives with her mother, father, and younger sister, there are few options for girls besides helping at home and creating alpanas, decorative patterns painted on pathways during holidays. Naima wishes there were some way she could provide financial assistance to her father, a bicycle rickshaw driver who puts in long hours trying to pay off his new rig, but her attempts to help drive the rickshaw result only in expensive damage. Naima then decides to offer her labor at the rickshaw painting shop in exchange for the repainting of her father’s rickshaw; after she disguises herself in boys’ clothing and walks an hour to the next village, she arrives at the rickshaw shop and finds to her surprise that the business’s owner is a woman, who eventually aggress to take Naima on as an apprentice. Naima’s engaging story is written in simple narrative and printed in large font, thus offering a multicultural tale for early or easily daunted readers. Her voice is true to her age, and her desire to help her family is convincingly portrayed; though may kids may wish the book had shown Naima successfully on the go in her apprenticeship, the point here is her acquisition of opportunity.
As detailed in an author’s note, a central intent of this novel was to highlight the way microfinance has changed the role of women in rural Bangladesh, a topical message with the awarding of the Nobel Peace Prize to Bangladesh microfinancer Muhammad Yunus. While this lesson may be largely lost on the intended readership, it’s a point that could be expanded into a good discussion when using this short novel as a read-a-loud. Loosely composed black-and-white pastel-crayon sketches are sprinkled throughout the text, offering both literal interpretations of the story and examples of the patterned alpanas. An author’s note and illustrated glossary of Bangla words are included.
The Horn Book
Ten-year-old Naima may win prizes for designing and painting alpanas, the traditional decorative patterns that women use to adorn homes in their small Bangladeshi village, but as her mother says, “Alpanas can’t put rice on the table.” Naima’s parents can’t afford school fees for both their daughters; now that it’s her little sister’s turn for schooling, disguising herself as a boy seems the only way for Naima to contribute much-needed earnings to her household. Naima’s covert experiments at driving her father’s rickshaw during his lunch breaks are met with disastrous results. Ultimately, though, Naima’s recklessness leads to a solution that enables her to earn money with her talents — no disguise necessary. Perkins depicts a rural Bangladesh on the verge of change, as evolving gender roles travel from big cities to small villages. In addition to capturing contemporary Bangladeshi culture, Perkins even connects the vibrant plot to the economic model of microfinance — probably a first for an early chapter book! Black-and-white pastel drawings depict authentic alpana designs and also provide glimpses into Naima’s dynamic world, underscoring the novel’s accessible message about the intersections of tradition and transformation. A glossary and author’s note are appended.
Lanuage Arts
Like many other Bangladeshi women and girls, Naima has a special talent for creating inventive alpanas–a traditional pattern used to decorate homes during celebrations. Her designs are considered to be the best in the village. Despite her talent, Naima sees no way it can help solve her dilemma–how to earn money to help her father pay off the loan that he used to buy a rickshaw. If only she were a boy, she could help, but in her society, gender roles are set–boys work and help their fathers, girls stay home and help their mothers. Naima doesn’t let a small thing like being a girl get in the way of her trying to help her fmaily. She thinks that if she dresses up as a boy, she can take her father’s rickshaw out for an hour or two while he rests, and the passengers will be none the wiser. Of course, plans go awry, and they do in a big way when Naima wrecks the rickshaw. Now her father is stressed even more because he has to earn money to repair the rickshaw. When her father takes the rickshaw in to be repaired, he leaves it at the shop, but does not get to speak to the repairman. When Naima comes to bargain with the shop owner to ask for a job, she is shocked to discover that the owner of the shop is a woman. She is also the “repairman.” The woman was able to buy her father’s shop through microfinancing from a women’s bank. The idea of a self-employed woman is totally new to Naima (and her father). Perhaps being a female will not hinder her attempts to help her family financially, after all. She makes a deal with the owner to work at the rickshaw repair shop in exchange for repairs on her father’s rickshaw. Naima is glad, for once, to be a girl. She could help through simple negotiations and an application of her talent for painting fine alpana patterns. This delightful novel is based on the author’s time in Bangladesh. Jamie Hogan’s accompanying line drawings help readers make connections with the novel’s characters and setting. Includes a glossary of Bangla words, an explanation of how microfinancing helps many women in developing nations become self-sufficient, and authentication of the novel’s alpana patterns. DLT
Multicultural Book Review
Rave reviews for this book from two very different little girls. Maggie, a quiet and intelligent girl, said the pace was quick and fun and the story was good. Outgoing, athletic Mira said she liked the main character, Naima, and thought the book ended too quickly.
The story is about a Bangladeshi Muslim girl of ten from a poor but loving family that ha just two girls, in a society where girls are considered to be a burden for their parents. Although Naima has a big heart, creative flair, and artistic talent, she seriously hurts her family while trying to help.
Perkins uses clear, engaging language to introduce the very different world of Bangladesh to young readers and also defines the concept of microfinance, a system of women within the society making small, affordable loans to other women. This is a highly recommended book for all libraries with young readers, for a glimpse of a strong girl who wants to make things right and, through a bit of luck and a changing world, eventually does.
Bureau County Republican
Simply and clearly written for a preteen audience, Naima’s narrative provides an authentic view of life in contemporary Bangladesh, showing not only the difficulties but the positive changes that are taking place. Soft black and white charcoal drawings of Naima and her village draw readers into the story, while intricate alpana designs decorate the pages throughout the book. “Rickshaw Girl” transports preteens halfway around the world, where despite cultural differences, they can very easily identify with a determined young Bangladeshi girl named Naima.
Librarians’ Choices
Mitali Perkins Rickshaw Girl is a chapter book for younger readers that interweaves family dynamics, the principles of microfinance, and the burgeoning power of women in contemporary Bangladesh. Ten-year-old protagonist Naima walks the fine line between childhood and the greater responsibilities and cultural expectations of young adulthood. When Naima’s well-intentioned attempt to help the family income&mdashby dressing as a boy to pilot the family rickshaw&mdash ends in near-disaster, Naima is able to redeem herself with the help of a local woman, who encourages her artistic abilities.
The day-to-day life in a village in modern Bangladesh is presented matter-of-factly, with many details interesting to Western readers regarding meals, transportation, and clothing. Jamie Hogan’s pencil illustrations are simple but help bring the story to life. The author’s note at the end of the book makes it clear that Ms. Perkins is writing truthfully about her own heritage, and clarifies the principles of microfinance that have become so important for development in traditionally underdeveloped countries. This is fictionalized non-fiction at its best, and should appeal to a wide range of intermediate readers.
The Dragon Lode
In her village in Bangladesh, 10-year-old Naima is a talented artist, known for her prize-wining alpana designs. When she defies custom and her parents and drives her father’s new bicycle rickshaw, Niama wrecks the shiny, beautifully painted cart. Determined to help her family, Naima dresses as a boy and offers to repaint rickshaws at a repair shop in exchange for work on her father’s cart. After seeing her work, the shop owner, a woman, offers Naima a job as a rickshaw painter. This short novel is illustrated with black-and-white pastel drawings. With a likeable main character and will-paced story, it makes a good read-aloud. The cultural attitudes about gender roles expressed in the story should prompt lively class discussions.
Mother Reader
What a beautiful day we had here! After two days of rain and drizzle, the sky cleared. The temperature went up to seventy degrees, and the bright sun made it feel like summer. The orange and yellow leaves were brilliant against the cloudless blue sky. And I was soaking this all in from the the concrete porch of my house with a book in my hand (of course).
Then a UPS truck pulls up in front of my house. A package? For me? Yes indeedy. It’s special delivery for MotherReader. Now, I don’t get many books from authors or publishers. If I’m asked to look at a book, I generally do. Once in a while, I ask the author or publisher for a book – but only if I have some confidence that I’ll like it.
In this case, it was a book I had requested – Rickshaw Girl, by Mitali Perkins. I had loved her book Monsoon Summer and had recommended it for my county’s 2006 summer reading program. Monsoon Summer was such an interesting and engaging look at India through the eyes of an Americanized teenage girl. I loved the way the reader could get a feel for the problems of India, without the book feeling preachy. With the new take on another culture and the accessibility to younger teens, Monsoon Summer was a great choice for our summer reading list and continues to be a standard recommendation of mine.
So, when I opened today’s package and found Rickshaw Girl, I did something I never do. I stopped reading the book I had out, mid-chapter – maybe even mid-sentence – and read this book. I was not disappointed.
Naima is a girl on the verge of heading out of the salwar kameez (long-sleeved tunics over cotton pants) and into a saree (yards of fabric wrapped around and over the shoulder), living in Bangladesh with her mother, father, and little sister. Her father drives a rickshaw to support the family, but without a son to help with the work, it’s hard to make enough money to pay back the cost of the new rickshaw. Naima wants to help, but as a girl she isn’t allowed. She does make lovely alpanas, the painted patterns done on the family’s paths and thresholds – even winning a prize for the best alpana in her village on International Mother Language Day.
Knowing her family is in trouble, Naima tries to help. Unfortunately, she only succeeds in making things worse. But after pulling back into her domestic role, she finds that her drive, her mind, and her talents can push her toward success for herself and for her family.
Rickshaw Girl is written for a younger audience than Monsoon Summer, which did throw me for a few pages. I was expecting another Young Adult book. But after I got into the book, I really enjoyed the story. As an adult, I could certainly see where the plot was going, but I wasn’t bothered by it. The strength of the book is in showing another culture without it feeling like a lesson. While Mitali includes a glossary in the back – with pictures – she relies on context and short descriptions in the story to keep the reader informed. She also has an author’s note in the back about the importance of mini-loans in these developing rural areas, and the strong role that women are playing in the local economies.
I’m looking forward to giving it to my daughter to read, and perhaps even to her teacher to read to the class. For everyone else looking for a good book on South Asian culture and Girl Power, Bengal style, put Rickshaw Girl on your wish list for 2007.
Literary Safari
Whenever I visit India, I admire the colorful and intricate art on the back of three-wheeler auto rickshaws that populate the streets of Pune. They bring back memories of my school days – how I used to crowd into a tight space alongside a dozen other girls with plaits and pigtails in blue and white school uniform pinafores. Our lunch boxes and thermoses used to hang off the sides and wed clutch each other as the driver hurtled the vehicle over speed bumps and puddles of mud. (Sort of like this amazing flickr photo.)
While I was on my daily rickshaw ride, I never thought about things such as how long or hard the driver had to work to generate his daily income, what would happen if he got into an accident, or was unable to work. I never considered his family – perhaps even his daughter – who might have been my age, but was unable to go to school or ride a rickshaw to get from one destination to another. What was life like for her?
I was a very different type of rickshaw girl than Naima, the girl in Mitali Perkinss most recent middle-grade novel Rickshaw Girl.
Naima is around 12/13 years old and lives in rural Bangladesh. She is the best alpana painter in her village and wants to use her artistic talent to help earn money for her family. One of Naimas frustrations is that unlike her best friend Saleem, she cant help her father drive his rickshaw because shes a girl. Not only that, but she cant work outside the house and her family can no longer afford to pay her school fees. One day, while talking to Saleem …
A Fuse #8 Production
Yes yes yes. Again I’m writing a review of a book that everyone and their mother has already seen. Trust me then that I wouldn’t be writing this review AT ALL were it not for the fact that the book is entirely deserving of the healthy heapings of helpings of praise it receives. I may be last in line on this one, but I’ll be the first to slip it proudly onto my library shelves.
Consider the reading levels a child goes through. You start them out on baby board books. Slooowly you start reading them picture books. Once they’ve a grasp on that then they start reading on their own with easy readers. A couple years in and it’s time to move on to early chapter books. Finally, and with great relief all around, they’re reading thick 500-page fantasy novels and everyone is happy. Now which one of those reading levels is, to your mind, the most difficult to find? Which is to say, which reading level seriously lacks in the quality-writing-department when all is said and done? My answer would have to be the early chapter books. Picture and baby board books are a dime a dozen and if you doubt the sheer quantity of easy readers out there, come on down to my library sometime. No, it’s early chapter books I worry about. Around this time you want to start luring the kids with writing that’s a little more sophisticated. Sure, you could hand them #43 in the Droon series and be done with it, but wouldn’t you like to hand them a fun book that talks about other cultures and features sympathetic characters and realistic concerns? Basically what I’m saying is, strong literature written in an early chapter book format is a rare beastie. Rickshaw Girl, by Mitali Perkins therefore manages to be all he stronger when you consider how rare a title it really is. Funny, smart, and chock full of the sights, sounds, and smells of Bangladesh, Perkins offers up a delightful book that distinguishes itself from the pack.
Ask Naima the one thing she’s good at doing and she’ll tell you right off the bat that it’s alpanas. A complicated but balanced series of designs painted on her family’s path and threshold, Naima tends to win her Bangladeshi village’s prize for best alpana every International Mother Language Day. This year, however, is different. This year Naima’s father isn’t bringing in enough money to pay for the newly redesigned rickshaw he runs. Frustrated that as a girl she can’t do anything to help the family earn more money, Naima makes a crucial mistake. One that might destroy her family’s dreams for good. If she’s to make it right, she must summon up her courage and, with the help of her friend Saleem, use her creativity to find a solution to her problems.
Sometimes it’s nice to hear the story of a screw-up. No one’s perfect, sure. We know that. But how often do you read a book in which the main character does something so cringeworthy that it has the readers, regardless of age, suffering the shame of a well-deserved embarrassment right along with the heroine? What Naima does (and I’m not going to give it away) is wrong. Yet she’s a character you want to believe in. Her family situation is actually pretty dire, all things considered, and what with having a heroine who is less than perfect, you really feel you can root for Naima. Perkins has the enviable talent of knowing how to connect a reader to a character. There’s a spark there. An understand that takes place. Alongside the believable and consistently interesting storyline, the book comes across as a keeper.
Now anyone can write a work of fiction off the top of their heads. And a couple people might even be able to make that work of fiction halfway decent reading. Imagine then the difficulties involved when one must write not only something interesting and well-put together, and not only an early chapter title, but also a Glossary of unfamiliar terms paired with illustrated images, and an Author’s Note giving additional background on Bangladesh and the author’s connection to it. All these things are greatly appreciated and easy to understand. And while a Bibliography or website or two wouldn’t have been out of place, what we do have here is doggone swell.
Illustrator Jamie Hogan remains a bit of a mystery to me. A relative newcomer to the children’s literary scene, Hogan’s work makes me want to thump Charlesbridge Publishers soundly on the back in thanks. What a fruitful pairing. Hogan’s style tends to be pastels on Canson paper, though they appear black and white in the book. It’s almost an affected style. You can see the texture of the paper beneath the images she draws. Yet her characters are pitch perfect 100% of the time. In an interesting twist, Hogan chooses never to show the faces of Naima’s mother and father. You see her sister, her pal Saleem, and even a random boy on the street, but the only glimpse you get of the parents is their hands. Only one adult appears in this story, and she’s definitely not related to Naima in any way. So in a sense, Hogan has chosen to throw in her lot with the children. Her heroine is a strong girl with natural energy. When she sticks out her tongue in one scene, it is exactly the way a kid WOULD stick out their tongue. Hogan knows how to capture kids at their most natural. It shows in the story.
If there’s a moral to this book it may be, “Stop and think before you act.” Sound advice, by and large. In an age of high fantasy and the aforementioned 500 plus page texts, slim realistic novels like, Rickshaw Girl, have to be especially good to get any of the attention they so richly deserve. I think Perkins and Hogan together accomplish that requirement with a seeming effortlessness. Consider this a necessary purchase to any library system, irregardless of collection size. A keeper through and through.
Notes On the Cover: Easy to approve of. A good example of Hogan’s style, with a nice glimpse of an actual rickshaw being driven (possibly by Saleem) in the background. For some reason I’ve been especially taken with the shadow of Naima’s arm.
Reviews
There are no reviews yet.