With a month long induction it’s a struggle to stay motivated to say the least. It seems as though the whole scenario has turned into a never-ending school trip; as we get carted around in the VSO van from daily lectures to external visits (hospitals, embassies), to language classes, shopping trips to practice Bengali (generally it’s a hilarious mess of confusion), and the list goes on. The timetable I was originally so impressed with now feels like handcuffs on my time and personal space, and I’ve hardly had any time to do such basic things like email, walk around by myself or even have a catnap. I think everyone’s feeling like this right now though, and the dynamics within our small volunteer circle are feeling strained. It’s like we’re in the Big Brother house and we can’t escape! I know it sounds a bit ridiculous because it’s only for a month, but time here feels like an eternity. Nothing is a normal day and everything is exhausting, especially in the heat, so we‘re all looking forward to starting work and being in charge of our own schedules again. Speaking of Big Brother, my Bengali actor/model friend has been asked to go on Celebrity Big Brother in Bangladesh, aka Uttoradhikar, and he goes into the house tomorrow actually! Can you believe I'm mixing with the celeb crowd and it hasn't even been a month?! Haha. He's also put me forward for an acting role here that needs a western woman. I'm sending my CV to the agent tonight so who knows what will happen...!
Following my last blog, after the harassment incident, I spoke with VSO and got moved out of the induction flat and into the illustrious Mohammadia ‘housing society’ flat in a newer area of town. It all happened quicker than I thought it would after a bad home stay experience (more on that later) but the good news it, I love the new neighbourhood; its got tons of little shops, busy streets and a wicked market nearby (Mohammedpur Bazar). The flat itself is pretty nice for Dhaka standards; there are four bedrooms, each with a big balcony, three bathrooms, small kitchen and a living/dining area. I’m sharing with a girl from London, a guy from India and another guy from Uganda. Flat UN stylz! Everyone seems to be on the same wavelength though and we’ve been cooking lots of meals together, playing cards in the power cuts (it’s almost a nightly occurrence at 9pm!), and we also have a housemaid to help us clean and do laundry (no washing machines here kids, it’s all by hand in a bucket). Unfortunately the water cuts out sometimes which is a pain especially when you have a shampoo covered head… and I’ve also discovered four lizards and three cockroaches in the flat so far, plus I have a whopping sixty-three mosquito bites on my legs and feet… good times. Anyway, back to the brighter side, we’ve been busy decorating the flat with our minimal volunteer budget and creativity has been bubbling overboard. A few of us discovered a secondhand sari stall at the big market - New Market - and got tons of saris in every colour under the sun to decorate the walls, make curtains, and even get clothes made. I’m like a walking rainbow here. I’m even in the midst of getting shiny gold trousers made! Bollywood here I come! Haha.
As for the social aspect, we ventured out from the Bagha club (British expat club) and tried out the Nordic club and Canadian club in the last few weeks. The overall verdict is that although the Dutch and Canadians have a nicer pool, the Brits here drink the most so that’s probably the one I’ll join! Plus, the Bagha beers are only 150 taka each ($1.50). Result! Haha. Truthfully though, alcohol here is few and far between and the expat clubs are in the swanky area of town. Mohhamadia house society ain’t. Apart from expat clubs, we’ve also been out for lots of dinners. Eating out is relatively cheap so we’ve been sampling the local versions of Thai, Chinese, Indian, and all the local cuisine too of course. Every corner has street food, from pakora type food to samosas, fresh bread, you name it. The British girl I live with mentioned she was interested in taking a cooking course here so maybe it’s high time I learned to cook too! Watch this space…
PS - I’m writing this in the dark. The power went off at 7pm instead of 9pm so excuse the spelling mistakes. It's hard to type by candlelight! :)
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Monday, October 12, 2009
Rude awakenings
One of the British girls and I went to the big market on Saturday to buy material to get clothes made. Since our home stay is coming up soon and work is also fast approaching, we’ll need more traditional clothes to wear. As we tested out our new Bengali phrases, we managed to communicate we needed a rickshaw and also negotiated on the price! The next thing we knew, we were off on our own to the market – a nice break from the regimented schedule we have in place for the next month. As we spun through the streets we both realized even more today, that the intense staring still continues. Even though it’s curiosity that we’re foreigners for the most part, it’s definitely a hard thing for all of us to get used to. Something else even harder is the amount of begging on the streets. Children as young as three or four run through the traffic, selling popcorn, beads, flowers, anything to make a few Taka. Today was the worst though… We passed a physically deformed man begging by the roadside, sitting in dirt, and he must have only weighed about 60lbs. I have never in my life seen someone so emaciated, it was truly horrific. The sadder thing was that people didn’t even notice him, pay him a second glance. My heart ached. Yes another indication of the haves and have-nots here. But this was the tip of the iceberg today regarding rude awakenings…
I checked my emails at the end of our shopping day at the VSO office, just a few blocks away from the induction flat, and someone must have followed me as I was walking home. Shopping bags in hand, I walked through our main gate and up the stairs to the flat, when all of a sudden, I felt hands grab my hips from behind. At first I didn’t realize what was going on but as I turned around I saw that it was a young Bangladeshi guy, maybe about twenty years old. I shouted out for him to let go of me and we fought for a bit as he groped me but I kept shouting, and managed to break free and then I ran up the stairs as he panicked and ran back down the stairs. I was shaking trying to get my key into the door of the flat and I could barely hold them in my hand. Eventually I got in, out of breath, and in complete shock. Thankfully some of my flatmates were home and I told them what happened. In terms of VSO process I filed a report with them, the police have also been informed and I’m being chaperoned every where I go right now. It’s unsettling to say the least. Yesterday was a bad day. I couldn't even email anyone to tell them what had happened. I was just starting to feel a bit settled and now this…
Harassment here is something that all women here have to deal with but being a western woman makes it even harder… you never think it’s going to happen to you. When I walked to the VSO office on Thursday night to meet the others to get up to Bagha club, I got a lot of harassment as I walked through the streets, far more than I would during the day. It was really uncomfortable. It’s suddenly becoming painfully clear that being out alone, even at dusk, is not an option here. The other flat that I’m trying to move into with the British girl and two guys (one from India, one from Uganda) is something I’m going to push for even harder. Fingers crossed that gets sorted out this week.
I think my independence is going to take a beating here and that’s probably one of the hardest things I’m going to have to come to terms with.
I checked my emails at the end of our shopping day at the VSO office, just a few blocks away from the induction flat, and someone must have followed me as I was walking home. Shopping bags in hand, I walked through our main gate and up the stairs to the flat, when all of a sudden, I felt hands grab my hips from behind. At first I didn’t realize what was going on but as I turned around I saw that it was a young Bangladeshi guy, maybe about twenty years old. I shouted out for him to let go of me and we fought for a bit as he groped me but I kept shouting, and managed to break free and then I ran up the stairs as he panicked and ran back down the stairs. I was shaking trying to get my key into the door of the flat and I could barely hold them in my hand. Eventually I got in, out of breath, and in complete shock. Thankfully some of my flatmates were home and I told them what happened. In terms of VSO process I filed a report with them, the police have also been informed and I’m being chaperoned every where I go right now. It’s unsettling to say the least. Yesterday was a bad day. I couldn't even email anyone to tell them what had happened. I was just starting to feel a bit settled and now this…
Harassment here is something that all women here have to deal with but being a western woman makes it even harder… you never think it’s going to happen to you. When I walked to the VSO office on Thursday night to meet the others to get up to Bagha club, I got a lot of harassment as I walked through the streets, far more than I would during the day. It was really uncomfortable. It’s suddenly becoming painfully clear that being out alone, even at dusk, is not an option here. The other flat that I’m trying to move into with the British girl and two guys (one from India, one from Uganda) is something I’m going to push for even harder. Fingers crossed that gets sorted out this week.
I think my independence is going to take a beating here and that’s probably one of the hardest things I’m going to have to come to terms with.
The hangover
After a couple of days of the ‘ole VSO orientation routine, Thursday, aka the new Friday, rolled around. The Bagha club was on the agenda yet again so we all headed up to Gulshan for a few drinks and the place was mobbed. It’s a surreal environment, it’s like we’re not even in Bangladesh anymore. It’s almost like a British pub in Spain. Needless to say, the beers were flowing, as was the banter, but I needed to make an appearance at the Regency hotel for an exclusive party called Virgo. My Bengali actor/model friend met me at the Bagha and we scooted over to the Regency, arriving to absolute mayhem. The usual conservative Bangladeshi crowd were scantily clad to say the least. I was totally surprised. It was mini skirt city and I suddenly felt very under dressed in my long skirt skimming the floor. Anyway, we piled into the elevator, up to the rooftop. The music was pumpin’, the dance floor was rammed and guess what… a-l-c-o-h-o-l! Believe it or not, there was a free bar and it was cocktail-o-rama! Apparently these ‘underground’ parties happen all the time and day by day, I was beginning to realize that Bangladesh and it’s ‘Muslim’ culture might not be at all what I’d presumed. After some free cocktails and bad dancing, I met some other expats floating around- all of us shared our stories on why we’re here and what we think of the ‘Desh. Our ‘driver’ ended up dropping me home at the end of the night and I stumbled back to the induction flat at about 5am.
The next things I knew, my alarm was going off. 9am. Shit. Sightseeing tour. All bloody day. Double shit. I rolled out of bed, twisted out of my mosquito net, threw on some clothes and the next things I knew, the seven of us were bumping our way through the Dhaka traffic. Onek jam is Bengali for traffic jam. Needless to say, this is a saying that happens often here. After about an hour we arrived at the Red Fort. I definitely was not on my A-Game. My head was throbbing, it was so damn hot and my hair stank of smoke from the night before. But, once we entered the gate, it was like a mini Taj Mahal experience. Quiet, serene, lush gardens seemed to go one forever and there were about three beautiful, rustic temple-type buildings within the grounds where we could wander and explore. Our tour guide was our language class principal so the whole day seemed to be blurred with practicing our Bengali too. She gave us tidbits of historical information as we walked through the fort and it was actually nice to do something touristy in a land of no tourists. My headache seemed to fade…
The next stop was the Liberation War Museum. Definitely heavy stuff to register even though the headache was easing up. Walking from room to room, it was apparent that the troubling history of this country is still very fresh in the minds of the current population; not even forty years ago, Bangladesh was witness to gruesome genocide and political protests. Photos and documentation adorned the walls of the small museum as a testament to these times.
After the museum as we headed back to the van, our guide suggested that we take a boat trip in Old Dhaka. As we weaved through the tiny streets to get there, everything in this part of town seemed even more cluttered (if that was even possible!) and before we knew it, we arrived at the Pink Palace (a historical British hotel), right by the river. All of us mounted the wobbly wooden boat as we paddled out with our fisherman, into the open waterways. Passing boat after boat, it was fantastic to actually see and be on the water here. Bangladesh has so many rivers and I was happy to be seeing it by water versus land for a change. After we circled around a bit, the boat dropped us back at the Pink Palace where were hopped on the van again, and ended up at the main shopping mall here. All of a sudden, the fading headache returned. Shop after shop after shop quickly became overwhelming and I think we were all running out of steam to be honest. We drifted outside and took a break on the front steps, not realizing the time: 12:45pm. Every Friday from 12:45 – 1:45pm is the main prayer. From the steps of the mall, we could see that the whole street had been shut down and hundreds of men were kneeling, praying in unison, right there and then. I couldn’t believe my eyes and photos wouldn’t do it justice. It was a very surreal thing to witness. I almost felt like I was intruding but it was completely fascinating to watch.
That night after a quick rest back at the flat, we were all due to go to our VSO director’s house for a special Bangladeshi feast. A British MP has been visiting VSO Bangladesh this week and to mark her departure, there was a traditional celebration in her honour. There were about thirty people in attendance and to my surprise, my new boss was also present so it was great to meet him and find out a bit more about the organization I’ll be working for. Initially, I thought that my job was focused solely in the HIV/AIDS sector but discovered that it also bridges into the areas of governance and livelihoods. Additionally, the organization is working on a documentary in the south west area of Bangladesh right now, highlighting the problem there with flooding and general climate change. Overall, it seems that a lot of filming will happen within my placement and with that comes travel so I’m really excited to start working. Living in Dhaka has its benefits but I think the best way to see this country will be to see the whole country. The real stories happen in the villages I’m sure.
The next things I knew, my alarm was going off. 9am. Shit. Sightseeing tour. All bloody day. Double shit. I rolled out of bed, twisted out of my mosquito net, threw on some clothes and the next things I knew, the seven of us were bumping our way through the Dhaka traffic. Onek jam is Bengali for traffic jam. Needless to say, this is a saying that happens often here. After about an hour we arrived at the Red Fort. I definitely was not on my A-Game. My head was throbbing, it was so damn hot and my hair stank of smoke from the night before. But, once we entered the gate, it was like a mini Taj Mahal experience. Quiet, serene, lush gardens seemed to go one forever and there were about three beautiful, rustic temple-type buildings within the grounds where we could wander and explore. Our tour guide was our language class principal so the whole day seemed to be blurred with practicing our Bengali too. She gave us tidbits of historical information as we walked through the fort and it was actually nice to do something touristy in a land of no tourists. My headache seemed to fade…
The next stop was the Liberation War Museum. Definitely heavy stuff to register even though the headache was easing up. Walking from room to room, it was apparent that the troubling history of this country is still very fresh in the minds of the current population; not even forty years ago, Bangladesh was witness to gruesome genocide and political protests. Photos and documentation adorned the walls of the small museum as a testament to these times.
After the museum as we headed back to the van, our guide suggested that we take a boat trip in Old Dhaka. As we weaved through the tiny streets to get there, everything in this part of town seemed even more cluttered (if that was even possible!) and before we knew it, we arrived at the Pink Palace (a historical British hotel), right by the river. All of us mounted the wobbly wooden boat as we paddled out with our fisherman, into the open waterways. Passing boat after boat, it was fantastic to actually see and be on the water here. Bangladesh has so many rivers and I was happy to be seeing it by water versus land for a change. After we circled around a bit, the boat dropped us back at the Pink Palace where were hopped on the van again, and ended up at the main shopping mall here. All of a sudden, the fading headache returned. Shop after shop after shop quickly became overwhelming and I think we were all running out of steam to be honest. We drifted outside and took a break on the front steps, not realizing the time: 12:45pm. Every Friday from 12:45 – 1:45pm is the main prayer. From the steps of the mall, we could see that the whole street had been shut down and hundreds of men were kneeling, praying in unison, right there and then. I couldn’t believe my eyes and photos wouldn’t do it justice. It was a very surreal thing to witness. I almost felt like I was intruding but it was completely fascinating to watch.
That night after a quick rest back at the flat, we were all due to go to our VSO director’s house for a special Bangladeshi feast. A British MP has been visiting VSO Bangladesh this week and to mark her departure, there was a traditional celebration in her honour. There were about thirty people in attendance and to my surprise, my new boss was also present so it was great to meet him and find out a bit more about the organization I’ll be working for. Initially, I thought that my job was focused solely in the HIV/AIDS sector but discovered that it also bridges into the areas of governance and livelihoods. Additionally, the organization is working on a documentary in the south west area of Bangladesh right now, highlighting the problem there with flooding and general climate change. Overall, it seems that a lot of filming will happen within my placement and with that comes travel so I’m really excited to start working. Living in Dhaka has its benefits but I think the best way to see this country will be to see the whole country. The real stories happen in the villages I’m sure.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Realizations and perceptions
Even through it’s only a few days in, I feel like I’m starting to get a handle on the routine here. I usually stir awake around 5am when the morning prayer happens, and then doze for a bit before jumping into a cold shower, then enjoy some coffee, bread and jam, and head off to the VSO office. Amazingly, the VSO team here have timetabled every day for us for the next month(!) and our day usually starts at the office, then a trip somewhere or information session, followed by our Bengali language classes in the Banani district (north east of Lalmatia). Note: Bengali is hard! More on this later. I also found out this week that there is a home stay as part of the one month induction period so I’ll be staying with a Bangladeshi family for ten days as of October 17. I’ve never done anything like that before but even though it’s a bit daunting, I need to embrace it. It’s not every day you get a chance to do something like that so we’ll see what happens… Watch this space!
The other good thing about finding my groove is that I feel more connected to the outside world. The first few days felt like I was in a time vacuum; I had no concept of time or day, never mind what’s going on in the world. Getting my email access back (even though the Internet is painfully slow), Facebook and getting a Bangladeshi mobile phone, means I can keep in touch with my beloved friends and family. The time difference is a bit annoying but I love waking up to messages from everyone.
So far this week, we’ve had a lot of hospital tours across the city which means endless hours in traffic which has been exhausting. The reality of these visits has compounded the extremes of wealth here. On Monday we went to the Apollo Hospital which had huge suites, AC, modern equipment, basically everything you’d expect to see in a North American hospital – obviously geared towards the diplomat set. But today, we went to the Cholera and Diarrhea hospital (I kid you not). Patients were scattered everywhere, and the place seemed like it was stuck in a time warp, thirty years behind. However, the doctor we met gave us a fantastic and informative session, plus allowed us to get any outstanding vaccines so I am now proudly immune to Rabies!
Something not on the agenda today was the arrival of two British girls. We thought one was coming this week along with a girl from Uganda, but to my delight, we got yet another girl and she even went to Edinburgh University. Yeah! One of them is staying in Dhaka and one isn’t, but it seems they haven’t put the two of us staying here together, even though out of ten volunteers here, there are only two girls staying in city. Powers of persuasion might need to come into play here… us Edinburghers need to stick together!
Anyway, last night was a pivotal point for me this week. I met up with my new Bengali actor/model friend and he picked me up outside the Lalmatia Women’s in a CNG to go for a bite to eat. We sped through the streets of Lalmatia along to Dhanmondi (a busier area nearby with lots of shops and restaurants) to a cool little place with views over the river. After something to eat, we met up with two of his friends in a bar, a quick walk away. Bar meaning = bar with no alcohol. Very strange. Nevertheless, his friends were both from London and their band just got signed to a Bengali record label! We chatted about all things British and I showed off my many accent skills to them – needless to say, I was a hit. Ha-ha. After hanging out at the second bar, we got a rickshaw over to another café and my actor/model friend was educating me on Islam as we whirled past the mosque area through the buzzing night streets. The guys guided me across the ten lane(!) junction; cars, rickshaws, CNGs and buses all flying around us, and we quickly arrived at the café. I had some masala tea for the first time (amazing) and we had great conversation about cultural differences, and the ways of Bengali and Muslim life. Totally interesting. I loved being the only foreigner; listening, sharing ideas, thoughts, beliefs, and truly being a part of the inner Bangladeshi social circle, not a watered down expat version.
I couldn’t sleep when I got home. Everything here is so alive. It makes me feel alive. It scares the hell out of me but that’s exactly why I’m here. I don’t know if my senses have ever been so stimulated. I wonder where I’ll go after living here…
The other good thing about finding my groove is that I feel more connected to the outside world. The first few days felt like I was in a time vacuum; I had no concept of time or day, never mind what’s going on in the world. Getting my email access back (even though the Internet is painfully slow), Facebook and getting a Bangladeshi mobile phone, means I can keep in touch with my beloved friends and family. The time difference is a bit annoying but I love waking up to messages from everyone.
So far this week, we’ve had a lot of hospital tours across the city which means endless hours in traffic which has been exhausting. The reality of these visits has compounded the extremes of wealth here. On Monday we went to the Apollo Hospital which had huge suites, AC, modern equipment, basically everything you’d expect to see in a North American hospital – obviously geared towards the diplomat set. But today, we went to the Cholera and Diarrhea hospital (I kid you not). Patients were scattered everywhere, and the place seemed like it was stuck in a time warp, thirty years behind. However, the doctor we met gave us a fantastic and informative session, plus allowed us to get any outstanding vaccines so I am now proudly immune to Rabies!
Something not on the agenda today was the arrival of two British girls. We thought one was coming this week along with a girl from Uganda, but to my delight, we got yet another girl and she even went to Edinburgh University. Yeah! One of them is staying in Dhaka and one isn’t, but it seems they haven’t put the two of us staying here together, even though out of ten volunteers here, there are only two girls staying in city. Powers of persuasion might need to come into play here… us Edinburghers need to stick together!
Anyway, last night was a pivotal point for me this week. I met up with my new Bengali actor/model friend and he picked me up outside the Lalmatia Women’s in a CNG to go for a bite to eat. We sped through the streets of Lalmatia along to Dhanmondi (a busier area nearby with lots of shops and restaurants) to a cool little place with views over the river. After something to eat, we met up with two of his friends in a bar, a quick walk away. Bar meaning = bar with no alcohol. Very strange. Nevertheless, his friends were both from London and their band just got signed to a Bengali record label! We chatted about all things British and I showed off my many accent skills to them – needless to say, I was a hit. Ha-ha. After hanging out at the second bar, we got a rickshaw over to another café and my actor/model friend was educating me on Islam as we whirled past the mosque area through the buzzing night streets. The guys guided me across the ten lane(!) junction; cars, rickshaws, CNGs and buses all flying around us, and we quickly arrived at the café. I had some masala tea for the first time (amazing) and we had great conversation about cultural differences, and the ways of Bengali and Muslim life. Totally interesting. I loved being the only foreigner; listening, sharing ideas, thoughts, beliefs, and truly being a part of the inner Bangladeshi social circle, not a watered down expat version.
I couldn’t sleep when I got home. Everything here is so alive. It makes me feel alive. It scares the hell out of me but that’s exactly why I’m here. I don’t know if my senses have ever been so stimulated. I wonder where I’ll go after living here…
Departures and first impressions
As I waited at the departure gate, about to board the dreaded 15 hour flight from Toronto to Hong Kong, I looked around at everyone else, thinking, ‘am I actually doing this?’, ‘am I actually leaving for good?’ At that moment, I felt as though, all I’ve been focusing on recently has been the ‘preparation to go’ versus actually getting there, and being in Dhaka. From the two intensive VSO training courses in Ottawa, to quitting my job, to moving out of Phoebe Palace, my home of almost four years, and garage sales, selling stuff on Craigslist… I glazed over the fact that I was walking into the unknown. I don’t know if anything could have really prepared me to realize the fact that I’m leaving a whole life behind. I’m not on vacation, this is real life and it starts now.
After the longest plane journey of my life and a pit stop in Hong Kong for a well earned beer, I was the last in line at Dhaka airport to get through customs. To my relief however, I got through without a hitch, collected my luggage right away, and there was someone there to meet me at the airport. I greeted him and he took my bags as I followed him outside. The heat hit me like a ton of bricks and people swarmed the airport gates, mostly children, as we pushed through to get to the VSO truck. There was an instant flurry of traffic and honking horns, symbolizing that this city never sleeps. Everything seemed like a surreal dream sequence as everything I’d imagined Bangladesh to look like, was coming true. Overcrowded buses whizzed past multicoloured rickshaws as they weaved in and out of traffic, competing with CNGs (tiny 3-wheeled, motorized vehicles) and other cars; all on a wild race to get somewhere. My driver tried to point out sights for me to see but everything was a blur, especially in the dark. After passing through hundreds of winding roads, we pulled up to the induction flat , where I’ll spend the next month. Seven flights of stairs later, we had arrived at our destination but to our dismay, no one answered the door. Following several rings, my future roommate answered the door but we’d disrupted her slumber. To my disappointment, she went straight back to bed and the other flatmate was out. The place suddenly felt dark and lifeless. And thanks to no air conditioning comforts, really Goddamn hot. I also realized that in not having my own room, I don’t really have anywhere to put my belongings, so I’m basically living out of my backpack until November.
The flat itself is basic but adequate enough, and the shared areas are spacious. We have three balconies which are amazing, and they help bring in a breeze, but the lack of air conditioning and frequent power cuts, means that the place is boiling hot 99% of the time and it’s really hard to sleep. I got three huge mosquito bites last night when I tried to fix the fan in the midst of a power cut, but, no luck. Not to mention, the Muslim prayer chants are blasted from megaphone towers at 5am every day. I’m sure I’ll get used to it, but who needs an alarm clock when God can wake you up instead!? It’s funny that only after a few days, I’m also realizing how much I miss having a stereo, WIFI and TV. I think part of it is just not being able to have something makes you want it more.
After spending the first day napping and snacking, the weekend arrived and on Friday night, the seasoned volunteers here invited us out to the Bagha expat club for drinks. Now we’re talking! We split into groups to jump across town in CNGs and even though ours broke down in the middle of the street, we all arrived at the club and I was pleasantly surprised. It’s like a country club, complete with swimming pool, different bars, AC (yeah!) and this night, it was also all decorated with UV lights. Hello, love it! After enjoying too many Carlsberg’s in the upstairs bar, an older British man bought us all tickets to the dance party and amazingly, the DJ was great and the crowd seriously appreciated the music. I have no idea how I kept dancing in such heat but all of a sudden, I felt like I blinked and it was suddenly 4am. A Bangladeshi model/actor I met, walked us out and bargained on a CNG for us to get from Gulshan (the rich, diplomat area) back to Lalmatia (my ‘middle-class’ neighbourhood).
A few hours later and a 5am wake up, rolled us into the next morning and we had to meet more volunteers to take us to New Market, Dhaka’s shopping Mecca. Imagine the vibrancy of Slumdog Millionaire and then imagine yourself, right in the middle of that chaos. That’s New Market. Now, we all know I can shop with the best of them but this was something else. The level of haggling involved to buy even the smallest thing is exhausting and most importantly, requires good Bengali language skills. Added to the fact that New Market is one of the busiest markets in a city of over 15million people, it is truly is a sensory overload. Saris, silks, shoes, jewellery, watches, gadgets, you name it. You can get anything under the sun at New Market. One of the other volunteers who has lived in Dhaka for over a year, became my new best friend because he’ll die for a bargain and he’s a good Bengali speaker. I ended up getting two traditional outfits called salwar kameez with his help, both for under $10. Result! Afterwards, we went for lunch at an art gallery – Bengal Café – for some traditional Bangladeshi cuisine and to look at some local art, followed by another shopping trip to the grocery store. Needless to say, I was wiped by the end of the day and my addiction to naps in this country is a concern. It must be the heat but I feel like I’m borderline narcoleptic right now!
Anyway, today we had proper training with VSO on the history of Bangladesh which was really helpful, and we also had a chance for some Q&A. The VSO Bangladesh staff are fantastic; so welcoming and approachable. Tomorrow we go to the hospital for a tour as well as start our first Bengali language classes. Wish me luck!
After the longest plane journey of my life and a pit stop in Hong Kong for a well earned beer, I was the last in line at Dhaka airport to get through customs. To my relief however, I got through without a hitch, collected my luggage right away, and there was someone there to meet me at the airport. I greeted him and he took my bags as I followed him outside. The heat hit me like a ton of bricks and people swarmed the airport gates, mostly children, as we pushed through to get to the VSO truck. There was an instant flurry of traffic and honking horns, symbolizing that this city never sleeps. Everything seemed like a surreal dream sequence as everything I’d imagined Bangladesh to look like, was coming true. Overcrowded buses whizzed past multicoloured rickshaws as they weaved in and out of traffic, competing with CNGs (tiny 3-wheeled, motorized vehicles) and other cars; all on a wild race to get somewhere. My driver tried to point out sights for me to see but everything was a blur, especially in the dark. After passing through hundreds of winding roads, we pulled up to the induction flat , where I’ll spend the next month. Seven flights of stairs later, we had arrived at our destination but to our dismay, no one answered the door. Following several rings, my future roommate answered the door but we’d disrupted her slumber. To my disappointment, she went straight back to bed and the other flatmate was out. The place suddenly felt dark and lifeless. And thanks to no air conditioning comforts, really Goddamn hot. I also realized that in not having my own room, I don’t really have anywhere to put my belongings, so I’m basically living out of my backpack until November.
The flat itself is basic but adequate enough, and the shared areas are spacious. We have three balconies which are amazing, and they help bring in a breeze, but the lack of air conditioning and frequent power cuts, means that the place is boiling hot 99% of the time and it’s really hard to sleep. I got three huge mosquito bites last night when I tried to fix the fan in the midst of a power cut, but, no luck. Not to mention, the Muslim prayer chants are blasted from megaphone towers at 5am every day. I’m sure I’ll get used to it, but who needs an alarm clock when God can wake you up instead!? It’s funny that only after a few days, I’m also realizing how much I miss having a stereo, WIFI and TV. I think part of it is just not being able to have something makes you want it more.
After spending the first day napping and snacking, the weekend arrived and on Friday night, the seasoned volunteers here invited us out to the Bagha expat club for drinks. Now we’re talking! We split into groups to jump across town in CNGs and even though ours broke down in the middle of the street, we all arrived at the club and I was pleasantly surprised. It’s like a country club, complete with swimming pool, different bars, AC (yeah!) and this night, it was also all decorated with UV lights. Hello, love it! After enjoying too many Carlsberg’s in the upstairs bar, an older British man bought us all tickets to the dance party and amazingly, the DJ was great and the crowd seriously appreciated the music. I have no idea how I kept dancing in such heat but all of a sudden, I felt like I blinked and it was suddenly 4am. A Bangladeshi model/actor I met, walked us out and bargained on a CNG for us to get from Gulshan (the rich, diplomat area) back to Lalmatia (my ‘middle-class’ neighbourhood).
A few hours later and a 5am wake up, rolled us into the next morning and we had to meet more volunteers to take us to New Market, Dhaka’s shopping Mecca. Imagine the vibrancy of Slumdog Millionaire and then imagine yourself, right in the middle of that chaos. That’s New Market. Now, we all know I can shop with the best of them but this was something else. The level of haggling involved to buy even the smallest thing is exhausting and most importantly, requires good Bengali language skills. Added to the fact that New Market is one of the busiest markets in a city of over 15million people, it is truly is a sensory overload. Saris, silks, shoes, jewellery, watches, gadgets, you name it. You can get anything under the sun at New Market. One of the other volunteers who has lived in Dhaka for over a year, became my new best friend because he’ll die for a bargain and he’s a good Bengali speaker. I ended up getting two traditional outfits called salwar kameez with his help, both for under $10. Result! Afterwards, we went for lunch at an art gallery – Bengal Café – for some traditional Bangladeshi cuisine and to look at some local art, followed by another shopping trip to the grocery store. Needless to say, I was wiped by the end of the day and my addiction to naps in this country is a concern. It must be the heat but I feel like I’m borderline narcoleptic right now!
Anyway, today we had proper training with VSO on the history of Bangladesh which was really helpful, and we also had a chance for some Q&A. The VSO Bangladesh staff are fantastic; so welcoming and approachable. Tomorrow we go to the hospital for a tour as well as start our first Bengali language classes. Wish me luck!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
