As my title suggests, Facebook is still blocked and it has caused quite the stir, students protesting its temporary shut down, others protesting the blasphemous images that were displayed by some users. From what I have gathered Bangladeshis really like to protest. I have learned all of this only from my daily reading of The Daily Star, a popular English language newspaper, as none of this stuff is going on in Gulshan (so far). One common theme of protests is that someone gets run over by a bus (this seems to happen everyday) and people get mad and then block the roads, and maybe burn buses. I don't mean to sound cavalier about this, as the stories are totally heartbreaking, but it is just an odd thing to read about in the newspaper everyday. The traffic situation in Dhaka (and the rest of the country) is just horrendous, and seems to be completely without rules. Crossing some of these streets (like Gulshan Avenue, the main street that runs through the entirety of Gulshan) is completely an adrenaline rush. Most of the side streets (like the one I live on) are all pretty calm though, with just the occasional car and rickshaw, and always plenty of men standing around talking.
Today I had a good talk with my cook Ayub, and learned more about his life. The language is definitely a barrier so I am not entirely sure if I understood everything but from what I gathered he spent years in Kuwait and only recently returned to Bangladesh because either his wife wanted to return here, or she didn't want to go to Kuwait, I wasn't exactly sure. It is very common for Bangladeshis to go to Arab countries to work and send back money. He has a 9 year old daughter who is in school. It takes him anywhere from 45 minutes to 2 hours to get to our apartment from his house. He leaves at 6AM and sometimes doesn't get back until 8pm. I tried to tell him that he could leave earlier or later and get here when he needed to, but he didn't understand me. I hope when I start working (tomorrow) I get off early and he can cook us dinner earlier, and not have to leave here so late. He is a really nice man, an amazing cook and an incredibly hard worker. I feel so spoiled at how well I am eating. He also is very, very good about hygiene. He boils all the water that he uses to clean the kitchen and the dishes, and he constantly washes his hands. I haven't been the slightest bit sick since I've been here (which is rare), and I think that he has had a lot to do with that.We have already decided to bump up his salary a bit and give him a very good tip and reference when we leave.
I also had a long conversation with our landlord Mr. Dhar. Language was definitely a barrier here as well, but overall I think we were able to communicate very well. When he learned that I was 26 and unmarried he was a little surprised, telling me that pretty much every Bangladeshi woman was married by that age (and usually much younger) but he definitely understood that people get married later in America and wasn't judgmental at all. He also said how much he likes Americans and Europeans but he doesn't like people from the Middle East because he thinks they are very rude. He loves Obama and thought Bush was a little crazy in the head.
It is times like this that I am so glad I spent a year teaching English. When talking to people who are nearly beginner or maybe advanced beginner English speakers, I often find myself slipping back into teacher mode and remind myself to use small, basic words; no slang; and lots of hand gestures. This definitely helps a lot and is usually appreciated by the person I am talking to.
Around noon we decided to try and find Cafe Mango again. Having passed it on the rickshaw yesterday (when we were taken on a detour to neighboring Baridhara) we had a good idea of where it was and were actually able to find it with no problem. Monsoon season has started, so it had rained a lot this morning but had stopped by the time we left. This is good and bad; good because it cools things down a bit, bad because it makes it even more humid and makes the streets and sidewalks even dirtier with mud and standing water.
Cafe Mango is on the far northern end of Gulshan set back from the road, in the same building as a hookah bar. It is in the upstairs of what used to be a large house. The decor is fairly minimal, but a few comfortable tables and couches. Importantly they make a point of filtering all their water, and cleaning all the fruit very thoroughly. Consequently it is one of the only places here that I can have smoothies and iced coffee. The menu was pretty diverse with no real apparent culinary theme but an array of sandwiches and random Asian dishes from all over the continent. I had a very spicy chicken with cashew nuts (which actually turned out to be sesame nuts) and fried rice. It was good and I will definitely go back. The atmosphere is so nice, I can easily see myself bringing a book and passing a quiet afternoon there.
By the time we left the sun had come out, and the temperature had risen to probably around 100 degrees (with something like 80% humidity or higher). I have to wear long sleeves, pants, and a scarf around my neck (but not covering my head) so the heat is even more intense. We took a rickshaw down to the Gulshan II circle. Our rickshaw wallah took backroads avoiding nearly all the traffic, and got us there very quickly. While on the rickshaw I got some great pictures, so hopefully I will be able to post them at some point. Gulshan II was completely congested with cars and people at this point. We decided to go to the Westin to try and find a good map of Gulshan (both the maps in Lonely Planet and Brandt leave a lot to be desired as most don't list the road numbers, which basically defeats the purpose of having a map). The Westin was pretty fancy, basically like a luxury hotel like you would find any where in the world, which even after being here for only a few days gave me a bit of a culture shock. They did have a store where they sold maps, but of course it was closed. We then tried to find another book store listed in the Lonely Planet guidebook that was supposed to be down the block, but that seemed to have dissapeared, if it was ever there to begin with. (This further confirms my belief that the Lonely Planet Guidebook is absolutely worthless, I agree with the Amazon.com poster who describes it as "quite possibly the worst one Lonely Planet has ever produced".)
After walking around the Gulshan Market (which is basically and endless amount of street vendors selling everything from fruit to mobile phones) it got too hot, and we returned to the nice air-conditioned apartment.
On the apartment-front we get about 100 television channels. Most are in Bangla or Hindi but there is a very odd array of 10 English language channels that weirdly enough includes both Disney and Hallmark which are just the absolute worst. I would honestly rather spend the afternoon dodging traffic in 100 degree heat than watch 5 minutes of Jonas! or whatever that stupid show with the Jonas Brothers is called. The "acting" is so bad it is almost physically painful to watch
As I mentioned earlier, I start work tomorrow. I'm very excited and not sure what to expect. It has been nice having free time to get to explore the city, but I'll be very glad to start having some structure and to hopefully start to feel like I have an actual reason for being here.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Sunday, May 30, 2010
I Accidentally Go Outside of Gulshan For The First Time
Today we decided to venture out and find a western style supermarket (or as Alizeh more correctly described them "Bangladeshi Western"). Although Ayub (our cook) goes to the market for us, and cooks us breakfast and dinner we don't have any kind of snack food in the house. We set out towards Gulshan II circle which is about a 5 minute walk from our apartment and has an array of shops, street vendors, and even the Westin. What we didn't realize is that in Gulshan all the shops are closed on Sunday in an effort to reduce traffic. (The weekend here is Friday, Saturday, so Sunday is supposed to be like Monday).
Since all the stores were closed we decided to head to some of the local parks. This turned out to be a huge endeavor as it is nearly 100 degrees out, very humid and the sidewalks are very crowded, and have huge holes in them. We finally got to a park which according to the google map is called "Gulshan Ladies Park" and is basically a sidewalk around what is supposed to be a small lake, but because monsoon season hasn't hit yet is more like a big dirt hole. On either side of the sidewalk is just piles of dirt. Not very scenic. To catch a break from the heat we decided to try and find Cafe Mango which is, at least according to Lonely Planet and Brandt, a nice little cafe with AC and good food. We weren't exactly sure what road it was on, so eventually I asked a rickshaw wallah if he knew. He said yes, so we got on. This turned out to be a huge misunderstanding, and we ended up outside of Gulshan in the neighboring area called Baridhara (which is also a diplomatic enclave, where the US Embassy is located). As luck would have it we ended up passing a large supermarket so ended up stopping there (after a discussion with the rickshaw wallah about the cost, and we ended up paying more than we thought, but this meant like .50cents more). The supermarket had lots of western (mainly Australian) brands, and we were able to stock up on crackers, cereal and other snack type foods.
We took a rickshaw ride back to near the apartment (the wallah didn't know the address, and we couldn't give him good enough directions so we just got dropped off near the Gulshan II Circle). While walking back to the apartment (carrying bags of western food) I, for the first time since I've been here, gave a kid who was selling stickers, 10tk. I'm not sure what it was about him that made me want to do this, but I did. A few minutes later another kid selling the same stickers came running after us wanting 10tk as well. We refused. He kept following us and saying how hungry he was. Finally, mainly just to get him to stop following us, Charlie gave him 10 and picked out one of the stickers. The kid then changed his mind and suddenly wanted 20tk. Charlie gave him back the stickers, and let him keep the 10tk as not to make a scene.
For me it isn't the money obviously. I had just spent almost 1800tk at the supermarket. I just don't know what the right thing to do is. One hears that so many of these kids, while obviously hungry and very poor, do not get to keep the money and give it to people in charge, (like in Slumdog Millionaire).
My entire life here is one of contrasts. I have probably spent more on going out to eat and clothing in the 4 days I have been here than many people make in half a year (if not an entire year). I spend a few hours out in the city (in the nice part of the city, which still boggles my mind) then come home to my very air conditioned apartment with a full-time cook. This is a new feeling for me. Of course I have been aware of poverty and of the differences between the first and third world, but before now I have never lived it. It is of course eye-opening and makes me grateful for what I do have and the opportunities I have been given. I still don't know how I will come to think about this after spending more time here, and seeing more of the city and meeting more locals. My job will hopefully also give me an insight into much of this as well. Perhaps there is really just no way to come to terms with it in anyway that makes sense.
Also, Facebook is blocked because apparently certain users were uploading anti-Islamic and anti-government material. I had tried to access it a few times today and just assumed the site was down for some reason. The idea of the government completely blocking it didn't even occur to me, I didn't even know that happened here. I guess I owe my Dad an apology. Talking to him while I was waiting for my flight at JFK he said something how Facebook should probably work there, and I laughed at him and said "of course it will work, it's not China." Shows what I know.
Since all the stores were closed we decided to head to some of the local parks. This turned out to be a huge endeavor as it is nearly 100 degrees out, very humid and the sidewalks are very crowded, and have huge holes in them. We finally got to a park which according to the google map is called "Gulshan Ladies Park" and is basically a sidewalk around what is supposed to be a small lake, but because monsoon season hasn't hit yet is more like a big dirt hole. On either side of the sidewalk is just piles of dirt. Not very scenic. To catch a break from the heat we decided to try and find Cafe Mango which is, at least according to Lonely Planet and Brandt, a nice little cafe with AC and good food. We weren't exactly sure what road it was on, so eventually I asked a rickshaw wallah if he knew. He said yes, so we got on. This turned out to be a huge misunderstanding, and we ended up outside of Gulshan in the neighboring area called Baridhara (which is also a diplomatic enclave, where the US Embassy is located). As luck would have it we ended up passing a large supermarket so ended up stopping there (after a discussion with the rickshaw wallah about the cost, and we ended up paying more than we thought, but this meant like .50cents more). The supermarket had lots of western (mainly Australian) brands, and we were able to stock up on crackers, cereal and other snack type foods.
We took a rickshaw ride back to near the apartment (the wallah didn't know the address, and we couldn't give him good enough directions so we just got dropped off near the Gulshan II Circle). While walking back to the apartment (carrying bags of western food) I, for the first time since I've been here, gave a kid who was selling stickers, 10tk. I'm not sure what it was about him that made me want to do this, but I did. A few minutes later another kid selling the same stickers came running after us wanting 10tk as well. We refused. He kept following us and saying how hungry he was. Finally, mainly just to get him to stop following us, Charlie gave him 10 and picked out one of the stickers. The kid then changed his mind and suddenly wanted 20tk. Charlie gave him back the stickers, and let him keep the 10tk as not to make a scene.
For me it isn't the money obviously. I had just spent almost 1800tk at the supermarket. I just don't know what the right thing to do is. One hears that so many of these kids, while obviously hungry and very poor, do not get to keep the money and give it to people in charge, (like in Slumdog Millionaire).
My entire life here is one of contrasts. I have probably spent more on going out to eat and clothing in the 4 days I have been here than many people make in half a year (if not an entire year). I spend a few hours out in the city (in the nice part of the city, which still boggles my mind) then come home to my very air conditioned apartment with a full-time cook. This is a new feeling for me. Of course I have been aware of poverty and of the differences between the first and third world, but before now I have never lived it. It is of course eye-opening and makes me grateful for what I do have and the opportunities I have been given. I still don't know how I will come to think about this after spending more time here, and seeing more of the city and meeting more locals. My job will hopefully also give me an insight into much of this as well. Perhaps there is really just no way to come to terms with it in anyway that makes sense.
Also, Facebook is blocked because apparently certain users were uploading anti-Islamic and anti-government material. I had tried to access it a few times today and just assumed the site was down for some reason. The idea of the government completely blocking it didn't even occur to me, I didn't even know that happened here. I guess I owe my Dad an apology. Talking to him while I was waiting for my flight at JFK he said something how Facebook should probably work there, and I laughed at him and said "of course it will work, it's not China." Shows what I know.
And On The 3rd Day She Rested
The third day in Dhaka was definitely the least eventful.
I started the day with a nice breakfast our cook had prepared, and about 4 cups of nescafe instant coffee which I am becoming addicted to. I spent the rest of the morning watching a mix of BBC / CNN / Al Jazeera, all of which seemed to be in agreement about how things would never be the same after the tragic death of Gary Coleman. (I feel bad making that joke but I couldn't help it.)
Around 1:00 Alizeh came by with her driver to take us to lunch. Alizeh is my law school friend Faizah's friend from college who is from Bangladesh but has lived in Saudia Arabia, Canada and the U.S. It turns out she lives very near to us, just down the road, and is currently working on a development project for U.S. Aid She was wearing jeans and a sleeveless tank top, which made me feel better that I had decided to forgo the Salwar-kameez for today, and was just wearing a short-sleeve black t-shirt and very baggy khaki pants, and a scarf.
Alizeh was incredibly nice and very helpful. We went to a sushi restaurant that she really liked (yes, I realize having sushi here could have turned out horribly wrong...). I, of course, asked her a million questions about life here. One thing that surprised me was that she never really leaves the Gulshan area because she lives here, works here and all of her friends are here, and because traffic is so bad it takes about 2 hours to get anywhere else in the city.
A few other things:
-The transportation system is as bad as I thought, it is basically impossible to get anywhere at night if you don't have a personal car / driver. Taking a rickshaw, CNG auto rickshaw, or taxi after dark is basically just asking to get robbed. I thought originally this only applied to single woman, but it sounds like it is the same for everyone. Not sure how people socialize after dark.
- Joining a club is a important way to meet people. We can join either the International Club or the American Club, although the American Club is harder to join as you need a diplomatic sponsor.
-There are some restaurants that serve alcohol (a very few) and there are a few places that foreigners can actually purchase it for themselves.
After lunch she had her driver take us on a little tour around Gulshan, which was really helpful as we saw a few nice parks (that I had no idea even existed) and some cafes.
After lunch I basically slept for the rest of the night, only waking up to eat the dinner our cook had prepared. It was a chicken curry with rice that was pretty spicy but completely delicious.
I probably got 16 hours of sleep between yesterday and this morning, which I think I desperately needed. I feel a lot better now, although could use another cup of nescafe.
On a side note: It is going to be hard for me to post pictures with the internet connection I have at the apartment, because it is so slow. I may have a better connection at work, and I will also try to check out some internet cafes.
I started the day with a nice breakfast our cook had prepared, and about 4 cups of nescafe instant coffee which I am becoming addicted to. I spent the rest of the morning watching a mix of BBC / CNN / Al Jazeera, all of which seemed to be in agreement about how things would never be the same after the tragic death of Gary Coleman. (I feel bad making that joke but I couldn't help it.)
Around 1:00 Alizeh came by with her driver to take us to lunch. Alizeh is my law school friend Faizah's friend from college who is from Bangladesh but has lived in Saudia Arabia, Canada and the U.S. It turns out she lives very near to us, just down the road, and is currently working on a development project for U.S. Aid She was wearing jeans and a sleeveless tank top, which made me feel better that I had decided to forgo the Salwar-kameez for today, and was just wearing a short-sleeve black t-shirt and very baggy khaki pants, and a scarf.
Alizeh was incredibly nice and very helpful. We went to a sushi restaurant that she really liked (yes, I realize having sushi here could have turned out horribly wrong...). I, of course, asked her a million questions about life here. One thing that surprised me was that she never really leaves the Gulshan area because she lives here, works here and all of her friends are here, and because traffic is so bad it takes about 2 hours to get anywhere else in the city.
A few other things:
-The transportation system is as bad as I thought, it is basically impossible to get anywhere at night if you don't have a personal car / driver. Taking a rickshaw, CNG auto rickshaw, or taxi after dark is basically just asking to get robbed. I thought originally this only applied to single woman, but it sounds like it is the same for everyone. Not sure how people socialize after dark.
- Joining a club is a important way to meet people. We can join either the International Club or the American Club, although the American Club is harder to join as you need a diplomatic sponsor.
-There are some restaurants that serve alcohol (a very few) and there are a few places that foreigners can actually purchase it for themselves.
After lunch she had her driver take us on a little tour around Gulshan, which was really helpful as we saw a few nice parks (that I had no idea even existed) and some cafes.
After lunch I basically slept for the rest of the night, only waking up to eat the dinner our cook had prepared. It was a chicken curry with rice that was pretty spicy but completely delicious.
I probably got 16 hours of sleep between yesterday and this morning, which I think I desperately needed. I feel a lot better now, although could use another cup of nescafe.
On a side note: It is going to be hard for me to post pictures with the internet connection I have at the apartment, because it is so slow. I may have a better connection at work, and I will also try to check out some internet cafes.
Friday, May 28, 2010
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.
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.
I Survived My First Day in Dhaka (and in my mind this is an achievement)
My first day in Bangladesh was filled with one misadventure after another. Originally the plan was to have Azad's father (Azad is the Bangladeshi who is a consultant with UM and helped put together the program) pick us up at the airport. We were supposed to call him when we landed, Azad having given us a Bangladeshi cell phone with money on it before we left America. Having someone pick you up at the airport was very important (as I had been told by multiple people) because as foreigners (especially white foreigners) we cannot take taxis at all, as there is a strong possibility we will get robbed. There is also no real public transportation that we could use, so having a ride is crucial...
First problem: The cell phone didn't work. We went through customs and decided to collect our bags and hope that he was waiting for us in the arrivals section, and he would be able to spot two lost looking white people (we were among a handful of white people on the 400 person plane). We got through customs with no problem (it of course took forever but patience is definitely crucial here, and I am definitely working on it successfully)
Second Problem: One of my bags was missing. Under the best of circumstances this is a huge and annoying ordeal. When arriving in a developing country where you don't speak the language, are jet lagged and exhausted from getting about 6 hours of sleep in the span of 48 hours it is near disastrous. After talking to multiple people I finally found someone who had me fill out a form with all my contact information and promised he would call as soon as he found out where it was.
Third Problem: We couldn't find Azad's Dad. I started asking the people at the little stores if I could use their phone, they all refused, and there were no pay phones. (Also we had just gotten money out of the ATM and had only very big bills.) Finally, I ran into a young 20-something looking woman in a military outfit and asked her if she knew where I could use a phone. She graciously offered me her cell phone and I was able to call the dad, got in touch with him and found out where he was waiting for us. We walked out to his car with him and his driver. We were immediately surrounded by beggars: one particularly insistent woman and a few children. As we were loading the car they kept touching my hands trying to get me to give them money. I refused.
The drive from the airport to the apartment was one of the most surreal experiences of my life. Everything I had read about in the guidebook was true:
a) there are no traffic rules whatsoever, people do whatever they want, swerve in and out of lanes, nearly hit each other, use the horn constantly
b) the streets are not just filled with cars, but everything you can imagine including bicycle rickshaws, very old buses completely packed with people, trucks with people filling the back etc
c)saying traffic is horrendous is an understatement
d) beggars and people selling stuff (like strings of popcorn) walk in and out of the streets (including the really busy ones) and the car stops will approach the window trying to get money
We finally arrived at our apartment which is in Gulshan 2, one of the nicest areas of the city. Since I have not been anywhere else but Gulshan yet I have a hard time imagining if this is the nice, diplomatic enclave what the rest of the city is like (honestly). The area is very safe though as every house / apartment building is guarded at all times. The French ambassador lives a few doors down. The apartment itself is pretty nice, definitely nothing luxurious or fancy, but pretty clean, very spacious, has great AC and is very secure. We each have our own fairly large bedroom and bathroom as well.
We met the landlord, Mr. Dhar, and all his numerous helpers who went around trying to set things up for us. We told him we wanted to hire a cook (someone who goes to the market, cooks breakfast and dinner, cleans and does laundry). We agreed on 10,000 taka salary per month (which is about $140.00, slightly more than I had been told, but I wasn't in the mood to haggle). He said the cook would come by that day (as the only food we had was the bread, mangoes and hardboiled eggs that Azad's family had generously given us).
We then went with one Mr. Dhar's men to the market nearby to get the phone working. This was also surreal and overwhelming (although I think a lot of it was that I was so exhausted at this point). We got the phone working.
Mr. Dhar and Azad's father then sat with us for the next few hours as the men ran in and out of the apartment. At this point the guy from the airport called and told me my bag would be coming on the flight that night that was arriving at 8:30pm. Azad's father offered to take us, as we have no way of getting there otherwise. (I honestly don't know what we would have done if he hadn't been there, he was so nice.) Eventually he and Mr. Dhar left to let us rest for a bit. I tried to sleep but was still wired from everything, and after nodding off slightly I awoke to a knocking on the door.
Problem 4: At the door were 2 of Mr. Dhar's men and a third man I didn't recognize. They introduced him as the cook. I got a really weird vibe from him. We discussed a few things, then he brought up that his salary would be 15,000tk. I told him that I had been told 10,000. He said that was impossible. I refused to pay the 15,000, he told me his wife would work for 10,000tk. I told him I needed to talk to Mr. Dhar and they finally left. This meant we now had no cook and no food.
Problem 5: Our kitchen has ants that into the bread which then had to be thrown out.
Later, Azad's Dad came to pick us up to take us to the airport. Getting my bag was an ordeal (I had to go talk to 4 separate people and get paperwork from them before they would let me go to the lost and found and talk to the person who actually had the bag) but all is water under the bridge as I did get it, which was honestly unexpected.
When we arrived back at the apartment (around 10:00 pm) we decided to forgo dinner and just go to bed. Heading out to a restaurant seemed too overwhelming (it isn't really a good idea to walk around after dark, even in Gulshan).
I finally fell asleep.
All in all it was a crazy and hectic day. I am proud of myself for getting through it without crying and without wanting to go home. It made me realize that I could have no preconceived notions about how my life for the next 2 months would unfold because in so many ways living here is like living in a different world (and I don't mean this in a negative way it is just very very different from anything I have ever experienced). Life here is more intense in almost every way, and made even more intense with a severe lack of sleep.
First problem: The cell phone didn't work. We went through customs and decided to collect our bags and hope that he was waiting for us in the arrivals section, and he would be able to spot two lost looking white people (we were among a handful of white people on the 400 person plane). We got through customs with no problem (it of course took forever but patience is definitely crucial here, and I am definitely working on it successfully)
Second Problem: One of my bags was missing. Under the best of circumstances this is a huge and annoying ordeal. When arriving in a developing country where you don't speak the language, are jet lagged and exhausted from getting about 6 hours of sleep in the span of 48 hours it is near disastrous. After talking to multiple people I finally found someone who had me fill out a form with all my contact information and promised he would call as soon as he found out where it was.
Third Problem: We couldn't find Azad's Dad. I started asking the people at the little stores if I could use their phone, they all refused, and there were no pay phones. (Also we had just gotten money out of the ATM and had only very big bills.) Finally, I ran into a young 20-something looking woman in a military outfit and asked her if she knew where I could use a phone. She graciously offered me her cell phone and I was able to call the dad, got in touch with him and found out where he was waiting for us. We walked out to his car with him and his driver. We were immediately surrounded by beggars: one particularly insistent woman and a few children. As we were loading the car they kept touching my hands trying to get me to give them money. I refused.
The drive from the airport to the apartment was one of the most surreal experiences of my life. Everything I had read about in the guidebook was true:
a) there are no traffic rules whatsoever, people do whatever they want, swerve in and out of lanes, nearly hit each other, use the horn constantly
b) the streets are not just filled with cars, but everything you can imagine including bicycle rickshaws, very old buses completely packed with people, trucks with people filling the back etc
c)saying traffic is horrendous is an understatement
d) beggars and people selling stuff (like strings of popcorn) walk in and out of the streets (including the really busy ones) and the car stops will approach the window trying to get money
We finally arrived at our apartment which is in Gulshan 2, one of the nicest areas of the city. Since I have not been anywhere else but Gulshan yet I have a hard time imagining if this is the nice, diplomatic enclave what the rest of the city is like (honestly). The area is very safe though as every house / apartment building is guarded at all times. The French ambassador lives a few doors down. The apartment itself is pretty nice, definitely nothing luxurious or fancy, but pretty clean, very spacious, has great AC and is very secure. We each have our own fairly large bedroom and bathroom as well.
We met the landlord, Mr. Dhar, and all his numerous helpers who went around trying to set things up for us. We told him we wanted to hire a cook (someone who goes to the market, cooks breakfast and dinner, cleans and does laundry). We agreed on 10,000 taka salary per month (which is about $140.00, slightly more than I had been told, but I wasn't in the mood to haggle). He said the cook would come by that day (as the only food we had was the bread, mangoes and hardboiled eggs that Azad's family had generously given us).
We then went with one Mr. Dhar's men to the market nearby to get the phone working. This was also surreal and overwhelming (although I think a lot of it was that I was so exhausted at this point). We got the phone working.
Mr. Dhar and Azad's father then sat with us for the next few hours as the men ran in and out of the apartment. At this point the guy from the airport called and told me my bag would be coming on the flight that night that was arriving at 8:30pm. Azad's father offered to take us, as we have no way of getting there otherwise. (I honestly don't know what we would have done if he hadn't been there, he was so nice.) Eventually he and Mr. Dhar left to let us rest for a bit. I tried to sleep but was still wired from everything, and after nodding off slightly I awoke to a knocking on the door.
Problem 4: At the door were 2 of Mr. Dhar's men and a third man I didn't recognize. They introduced him as the cook. I got a really weird vibe from him. We discussed a few things, then he brought up that his salary would be 15,000tk. I told him that I had been told 10,000. He said that was impossible. I refused to pay the 15,000, he told me his wife would work for 10,000tk. I told him I needed to talk to Mr. Dhar and they finally left. This meant we now had no cook and no food.
Problem 5: Our kitchen has ants that into the bread which then had to be thrown out.
Later, Azad's Dad came to pick us up to take us to the airport. Getting my bag was an ordeal (I had to go talk to 4 separate people and get paperwork from them before they would let me go to the lost and found and talk to the person who actually had the bag) but all is water under the bridge as I did get it, which was honestly unexpected.
When we arrived back at the apartment (around 10:00 pm) we decided to forgo dinner and just go to bed. Heading out to a restaurant seemed too overwhelming (it isn't really a good idea to walk around after dark, even in Gulshan).
I finally fell asleep.
All in all it was a crazy and hectic day. I am proud of myself for getting through it without crying and without wanting to go home. It made me realize that I could have no preconceived notions about how my life for the next 2 months would unfold because in so many ways living here is like living in a different world (and I don't mean this in a negative way it is just very very different from anything I have ever experienced). Life here is more intense in almost every way, and made even more intense with a severe lack of sleep.
2 Days of Travel and 1 Day in Dubai
There are obviously no direct flights between Detroit and Dhaka -- I actually don't think that there are any direct flights between the the U.S. (or North America, or well the Americas I am probably safe to say) and Dhaka. Our original travel schedule was an intense 30 hours total traveling time and 3 flights (a layover in NY and Dubai).
The flights to Dubai (by way of JFK) were pretty uneventful. The Detroit to NY flight ended up being an hour late because another plane accidentally parked in front of our gate.
The 11 hour flight from NY to Dubai on Emirates Airline was really nice. I had my own TV with tons of movies to choose from (I watched The Invention of Lying, which I highly recommend) and I was on an exit row and an aisle so had tons of leg room.
I ended up sitting next to a little Indian girl returning to India from a 4 week vacation in the US. Her parents were busy with their baby so the entire flight so I almost felt slightly like a babysitter. She asked me to help her with the TV, her tr (“make it play a kids movie”). She ended up watching The Little Mermaid three times in a row (and yes – I admit I watched it once as well).
We arrived in Dubai around 8pm (our flight to Dhaka was to leave at 2AM) and met Charlie's friend Kassem, and his cousin Abud. They picked us up and took us around the city, showing us the Dubai Tower, the Atlantis resort and dinner to Savage Garden a Colombian themed restaurant (not the Australian pop duo from the 90s) that had a salsa band. Kassem hadn't seen Charlie in about 5 years, so he offered to pay to extend our ticket for a day. Emirates Airline obliged, and so unexpectedly we now had a full day ahead of us in the city. We returned to the Columbia restaurant and spent the rest of the night drinking, which in my case was really stupid as I had been up for 24 hours and was dehydrated from flying. (So you can probably imagine how I was feeling the next morning...)
The next day we spent the day sightseeing, starting with Ski Dubai. Yes -- Dubai has indoor skiing inside a mall. Whenever I see commercials for absolutely terrible movies, like Hot Tub Time Machine, I always wish that I could have been a fly on the wall of the meeting where the movie was pitched. This is how I felt while watching people in ski gear going up ski lifts in a place where there is basically year round sun, and the the heat can get up past 120 degrees.
Dubai is a city of extreme extravagance and luxury, unlike anywhere else I have ever been. It's closest U.S. equivalent is Las Vegas minus the seediness (as in no sex and gambling) but that doesn't do it justice. It is more like if every Vegas casino on the Strip was like the Bellagio and the entire city of Vegas was like the strip. It was a great place to spend the day and I had a blast.
Some Highlights:
-dipping my toes in the warm water of the Persian Gulf
-Watching the Dancing Fountain (think the fountain in front of the Venetian but bigger of course) dance to Time To Say Goodbye
-Having a drink at Nobu in The Atlantis Resort (unbelievable luxury)
-Eating at KFC (much improved from the US, and no Double Down sandwich (Yes -- this one does seem to buck the trend, but I do love KFC)
It was great and very unexpected way to start my trip. Although going from one of the richest places in the world to one of the poorest in less than 6 hours was quite possibly the biggest culture shock of my life...
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