Old Dhaka

Finally my social life in Dhaka has started to show some semblance of normalcy. Now normalcy is a very relative term, as "normal" in Dhaka is still quite bizarre by the standards I have used for the past 26 years, but still. Friday night I had dinner at Ciara's (the Irish girl studying the Bangladeshi transgendered community) and met 2 of her roommates who had just arrived here a week ago. Both were from California and working at the ICDDRB (quite the mouthful in casual conversation) a huge NGO / Research institution doing tons of public health stuff. They are housesitting for a well-to-do American family and so have a fabulous apartment with a great view of the city and 2 beagles. I had a really nice and normal (by any standard) time, although since it was my driver's day off (not "normal") I had to leave by 9:00 (not "normal").
Today I went to Old Dhaka with Charlie, J.R., and Karen. We met Pronoy, the Bangladeshi grad student that J.R. has used as a translator on all of his field visits to rural Bangladesh, and Pronoy's friend, Sunnan. Karen and I had originally planned to meet Eshanthi and Rosie for facials at a nice spa in Gulshan, but after getting in her car we realized that this might be the only chance either of us would have to get to Old Dhaka (which is a must see) so decided rather spontaneously to meet the boys there (they had already taken our car there). Much of this was complicated by the fact that Karen's driver spoke very limited English (like, "my name is" and "hello" was about the extent) and does not have a firm grasp on directions. (He was very nice other than that.) Eventually we were able to meet everyone at the Red Fort, an actual real tourist attraction in Dhaka (it even charges locals Tk. 10 and foreigners Tk. 100).

Most of my time there was spent taking pictures of the street children. At first 2 girls, (jasmine and pia) just wanted to be included in the group photos we were all taking. Then they wanted me to take pictures of them. Pia was a natural model and enjoyed doing both silly and serious poses , and they both got a huge kick out of it every time I showed them the picture. This attracted the attention of other children who also wanted their pictures taken. I guess all this picture taking was contagious because as I was leaving a Dad asked if his daughter could take a picture of us. (This is the second time this has happened to me, the first was at the beach in Chittagong.)

After the Red Fort we walked around Old Dhaka for a bit and then had lunch at a delicious traditional Bengali restaurant. (I had the best chicken I've had since being here, don't tell Ayub.) It also turns out that Karen and I were the first Western girls that Sunnan had ever hung out with. I really hope I represented well.

 Old Dhaka is quite possibly one of the most interesting and visually stimulating places I have ever been, and this was on a Saturday when many of the stores are closed. It is in some ways similar to an old European city in the sense that the streets are very narrow (too narrow for cars) and windy and filled with traditional shops. The difference is of course the sheer amount of people, the rickshaws, the beggars, the goats, the lack of women, the colors, the endless stares (even more so than in Gulshan).

One interesting oddity of the day (it's hard to pick one) is that now since Germany beat Argentina in the World Cup the Bangladeshis are like uber aware of Germany, and so now when they see a white person are yelling out "Germahhn!?!?" This made it even funnier to see 2 of the Germans from the Sundarbans (who are very blond, very white, very German) drive by on a rickshaw through the throngs of people. We waved, but in retrospect I really wish that I had yelled out "GERMAN!!" At the Red Fort we had also run into Ciara's roommates. Kind of strange as everyone lives in Gulshan, and I never see anyone I know on the street there.

After Old Dhaka, Karen and I headed to Rosie's apartment for dinner and brownies to celebrate (early) Eshanthi's birthday. Dinner was great, the brownies were fabulous, but the highlight of the evening was that Rosie had invited over her masseuse, Ranjan, and I got an hour long massage, which was definitely much needed. We were joined by a big group of Aussies, who all reconfirmed my view that Aussies really are the most outgoing nationality. (Not to generalize or anything of course.)