My Second Day in Bangladesh (or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Dhaka)

As the title suggests, my second day here was infinitely better than the first. I got a very good, full night of sleep. The bed is pretty comfortable, and I was able to set the AC so that it wasn't too cold. (Yes -- I am aware that having AC too cold is a pretty luxurious problem to have in this country... I am still dealing with my feelings about this kind of thing, and I am sure I will write a lot about it once I have had more time to think about it all.)

Around 10AM we heard a knock at the door. Like yesterday it was 2 of the men who work here, with another man who they introduced as a cook. Both Charlie and I got a much better vibe from him. He agreed to the 10,000tk salary, and provided references. For the first time in my life I have a domestic servant. In one of the books I read about Bangladesh the author was critical how easily expats here embrace the master / servant relationship. This is something I don't think will happen to me, but I need to be aware of it of course. I don't feel bad about having him as a cook, and I think we are paying him a good salary. This is all tricky stuff, and I hope I am acting like a decent person throughout.

My new friend Eshanthi who is an MBA student from UM (and who I had gotten contact information from a girl named Sarah who is also an MBA student who had recently spent a few weeks here) came by in the early afternoon. We had made plans to go to Aarong which is a rather upscale (for Bangladesh) clothing market, where I could buy some Salwar kameez which is basically baggy pants (sometimes fitted at the ankle), a long sleeve baggy shirt with a v neck, and a scarf worn over the chest.
Before we went there we took a bicycle rickshaw to the Grameen center (founded by the Nobel Peace Prize winner and inventor of microloans Mohammed Yunus) to get our internet working (I'm using what basically looks like a thumb drive, but is actually a high speed modem).  Riding on a rickshaw through the streets of Dhaka was an exhilarating moment. It was at this point that I think my attitude changed. Yes this is crazy, and kind of dangerous, but it is amazing, and so different and it makes you feel like you are really a part of this intense and unique city. On the rickshaw I got a first hand view of everything from the men selling copies of books, to the beggars, to the multitude of other rickshaw drivers (Dhaka is called the rickshaw capitol of the world), buses, cars, pedestrians running in and out of traffic.
While at the Grameen Center we met Misha a student from Cornell who is doing an internship here for the summer with a public health organization. We chatted for awhile and she agreed to come to Aarong with us. First we stopped at KFC, where Eshanthi had fallen in love with their garden burgers (which are actually absolutely amazing, way better than in America) and of course I am always up for KFC. When I say it felt like being in America, it is definitely a really strange feeling (not like being at a McDonalds or Starbucks in Europe) because the rest of the city is absolutely nothing like America.
After this we took another rickshaw to Aarong which is at the southern end of Gulshan. We went past Gulshan "lake" which is sadly more like a garbage pit, and the road turns into a bumpy dirt road (slightly scary in a rickshaw).
Although situated in what looks like some sort of rundown building, inside Aarong is a great store with lots of cute clothing (all Bangladeshi style), scarves, jewelry and wood workings. It is more expensive than other parts of the city (closer to Western prices) but it is probably the least stressful place to start out and buy some essentials.
The ride back was more intense than the others had been. The streets had become more crowded and we were going a longer distance (from the bottom to the top of Gulshan). While we were stopped in traffic a woman with a baby came up to us to beg for money. She started by trying to get my attention and began touching my hand. When I kept refusing and shaking my head she started having her baby touch my hand, and kept saying "sister, sister, please." Up to this point I had refused other women, and children, but this was the first time in my life to refuse a tiny baby. Not sure what else to say about this...

Later, three of us met for dinner at Spaghetti Jazz which is a mainly expat, Italian restaurant about 5 minutes from our apartment. It had surprisingly good pizza (minus the canned mushrooms that I picked off).

Overall, it was a much better day. I am still coming to terms with everything, and it of course is not all positive, but I am trying to be open to everything, and take everything as it comes.