BCWS (Bangladesh Center for Worker Solidarity) has an office in Gazipur which is a suburb of Dhaka. Suburb here having a very different meaning than back home, being generally poorer and more industrial (most of the garment factories are located in the suburbs). Charlie had an interview set up with some workers who had worked in a factory that in 2006 had shut down out of the blue, while still owing all of the workers months of back wages as well as money that had been paid into a savings account. Since Friday is Said's day off we had to take a CNG (AKA an autorickshaw) all the way out there (a 45-90 minute drive depending on traffic). This alone nearly deterred me from going as the idea of sitting in a loud, extremely hot, and kind of scary CNG in actual traffic was a daunting idea. I decided I would regret not going, as it would be a good experience to see more of the city and more importantly to hear the worker's story firsthand.
After tracking down a CNG in Gulshan 2 circle Charlie called his boss Mehedi so he could explain to the driver where exactly we needed to go. The driver wanted to charge us twice what Mehedi said we should pay, so as Charlie was trying to negotiate this (while alternating talking to Mehedi and having the driver talk to Mehedi) a street kid came up to me and tried to sell me stickers. I didn't want to buy the stickers but started chatting with him, about the stuff on the stickers (guns, flowers, spiderman, totally random). At this point Mehedi suggested we try a taxi, as the CNG guy wouldn't budge on the price. I asked the little kid to show us where to go, and he took us to the Westin where there is usually an assortment of different kinds of taxis (varying dramatically in quality). After failing to get a good price from the taxi driver (a crowd of beggars had surrounded us by this point, half-heartedly asking for taka, but mainly just watching us try to haggle, very amused) we decided to go again the CNG. This time the little kid helped us negotiate and ended up getting the price down by Tk.100. I gave him a tip out of gratitude. (Have I mentioned how adorable he was?)
Luckily Friday is the lightest traffic day, so the ride there wasn't too terrible. Totally hot and stuffy, but at least we were moving nearly the entire time so this created somewhat of a breeze, The BCWS office is in a building in the middle of a huge market. Mehedi came out to meet us and brought us to the office, which was in a very old building with grey stone floors and oddly ornately designed doors. We were there for about 5 minutes chatting with some of the BCWS staff when Mehedi received a phone call telling him the workers had been in some sort of accident crossing the street (don't worry they were totally fine). I wasn't surprised. One thing I have learned the hard way here is to expect nothing to go according to plan ever. We ended up staying at the office for about 90 minutes, chatting to their staff and union organizers. I asked them some questions regarding violence in the RMG sector and about the minimum wage (there is a big debate going on about that right now) and it was pretty interesting (and depressing). The life of a garment worker is even more grim than I thought.
Mehedi arranged a taxi for us on the way back (he negotiated the price while we were still in the office, so ended up getting it for about Tk. 150 cheaper than we had paid for the CNG). The taxi was completely falling apart, I think the engine was the only thing still working the way it should. At least it stayed together long enough to get us home (with only one near collision).
Pretty much as soon as we got back to the apartment we had to leave to go meet JR and his friend Omi. Omi grew up in Bangladesh, but went to college in America and is currently in the middle of his PhD at Harvard's Kennedy School of Government. He speaks 10 languages and had devoted his life to researching genocide and other war crimes. He has been nearly everywhere in the world (including the Sudan), and has spent a lot of time at refugee camps. Totally unrelated to this, we were meeting him because a few of his cousins are musicians (one is apparently a pretty famous Bangladeshi rock star, the others are a doctor and engineer in their real life) and their band was performing at GuitarFest, a concert featuring lots of local bands.
Going to GuitarFest was a very interesting experience. Charlie, JR and I were the only foreigners in the entire crowd. Everyone else were all middle class / upper middle class Bangladeshi teenagers / early twenty somethings. It was the first time since being here that I got to see this side of Bangladesh. One interesting thing was that almost all of the banter from the bands was in English. Further evidence that it really is the language of choice of Bangladeshi bourgeoisie. The big downside was that the large room the concert was in had no AC and very little ventilation. This meant it was ridiculously hot. It was so hot that for literally the first time since I've been here the air outside actually felt much cooler than inside. (And it was still probably at least 95 degrees and very humid). Omi's cousin's band was by far the best, the rockstar cousin was very talented, and even though it wasn't really my kind of music (way too hard rock) I still really enjoyed it.
After GuitarFest we had a late dinner at Bamboo Shoot a very decent Chinese restaurant. Karen and Ashish joined us. The food and conversation were both great, so overall it ended up being a very nice night.
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