Waggling

I went to a book to get a copy of the Lonely Planet – Bangladesh. Barnes and Noble didn’t have it back it back in the states, in Denmark it was about $50, and I couldn’t find it in Sri Lanka or Bangkok. It’s funny, the bookstore had it, but it was a ‘pirated version.’ The front and back cover were legit, but every page was a black and white photocopy. Definitely seems like a more tedious form of pirating than just burning CDs and DVDs.

The Bangladesh Lonely Planet describes beautifully one of my favorite aspects of South Asian culture that I have been striving to emulate: the waggle.

“Did you know?... The subcontinental head waggle is a ubiquitous form of nonverbal communication. Waggling the head from side to side in response to a question may mean ‘no’, or ‘not sure’, while a single tilt to one side is a sign of assent or agreement.”

Hashing

Friday and Saturday are considered the weekend here. It actually wasn’t until 3 weeks ago that the government declared a two day weekend. Up until then I think Bangladesh folk only got Friday off… but with frequent hartals (or city wide strikes by the opposing governmental party which forces the city to shut down), apparently it often seemed like they had at least a two day weekend.

Sort of spent day the doing stuff that I’d wanted to do for a while but hadn’t gotten around to, fixing up my resume, cleaning up my computer, etc.

Mika had told me about this thing called Hash, which I guess is an international running (and boozing) club/fraternity/cult. Apparently there are Hash clubs all over the US too, I had just never heard of it. In Dhaka, they meet 4pm every Saturday. (There is a men’s only Hash on Mondays… the ‘lower’ status of women in this country, i.e. their envisioned role of staying at home, is very apparent. In the fancy Paradise Garden Hotel that I stayed in, there was not a single woman working there… not at the front desk, at the restaurant, as maids… anywhere.)

It was pouring rain in the midafternoon, but I felt like a run would be good for me. I jogged over to the British club where they were meeting. I met Syed, who’s the man, who runs the show.

There was a really small turn out this week due to the inclement weather… only 10 or 15 people… usually there is a group of 50 or 60. Most are older than me. There was only one other girl who came… we jumped in the back of Syed’s truck with a few coolers full of booze and headed off. The place they run is always 30-40 minutes away from Dhaka, near the outskirts… all these places that most people would never else have a reason to go to.

By the time we got there, the rain had tapered. Actually met a girl who grew up in Yorktown Heights… small world I say.

Different countries have different rules, but basically there is ‘hare’ who sets the course earlier in the day. He set both running and walking course. In most countries they leave flour along the path, but being in Bangladesh they don’t want to do that. So instead they get tiny shreds of paper from the British Club. At some major juncture in the road, people have to check down both paths to see which one is the right one… if you find the bits of paper you yell ‘on on.’

Right… anyway… we went running through this tiny village, running along with goats, and cows and little kids. The day was rather gray and gloomy, but they said it was perfect weather because often it is unbearably hot. We ran through paddy fields out onto this bizarre huge open wasteland looking places. It was miles and miles of gray sand. What they are doing is just infilling naturally lowlying areas and lakes with tons of sand. Then they are just going to start building houses on top… it was an eery place, and in the distance you could see the burned out falling apart skyline of the outskirts of Dhaka… with the weather also be so gloomy it was a pefect setting for a U2 video.

Ran for a good hour. We’d stop every once in a while so all could catch up. Afterwards there was a bit of boozin’ and some silly song is chanted. Because I was a ‘virgin’ I got a free beer… I had to stand in the middle of the circle and when they got to the part in the song when everyone is saying ‘down down down down,’ I had to chug the beer, holding the cup in my left hand. If I couldn’t finish it, I had to pour it on my head… I had to drink the beer or wear it (hmmm… where have I heard that before?).

Rolled over to the British club for another round. Hmmm, I’m starting to sound like true ex-pat… pretty lame. But just been here a couple days and interested in meeting those that there are to meet. With membership to the American Club, apparently you get entrance to all the other international club – British, Australian, Dutch, etc. Hmmm, again not exactly the crowd I’d pictured hanging with, but at least good to meet some of these folk to figure out the city, social scene, housing/apartments, etc.

Went to dinner with Syed and Deborah, the medical nurse for all the Peace Corp Volunteers. It was a little bit mean, but 3 of us squeezed on one rickshaw.

The Colorful Rickshaw

Syed, Deborah, and I squeezed on a rickshaw

Today I set up some meetings with main contact at BUET, Dr. Muhammad Shah Alam Khan, and at CEGIS, Mr. Malik Fida A. Khan.

Checked out of the Paradise Garden Hotel and moved into the HEED Language Center Guesthouse. I’m going to start Bangla classes bright early tomorrow morning. 8-10am, 5 days a week, for 4 weeks… yikes… the vacation has officially come to a close…

Gulshan Central Mosque

First Impressions

I got off the plane and a guy met me with a sign with my name on it before customs... which seemed a little weird. He had on an official badge and said, hey give me your passport, you can cut the line, and i'll meet you at the baggage claim... a little apprehensive to give away my passport to anyone, let alone a stranger, but it was legit... we not only cut all the lines, we cut the diplomatic line. The guy from the embassy knew the passport agent guy, so i just went right through, and then the embassy guy waited on line for me...

It was interesting, somewhat cool, but also a little silly to be treated as a diplomat. My main contact here, Shaheen Khan, at the American Center had gotten me a room at the Paradise Hotel. It’s the place where the State Department and US Embassy folk stay. Intially I felt a little bit uncomfortable about staying at a place called Paradise Hotel upon arrival in one of the poorest countries in the world… just seems a bit hypocritical. It turns out be nice and probably a paradise compared to most places, but basically a regular hotel… internet, restaurant downstairs, hot/cold shower, AC in the room… it’s definitely nice and more than I need, but it’s not as though I’m guilt-stricken by staying here.

Paradise Garden Hotel, Barhidara, Dhaka, Bangladesh

View from Paradise Garden Hotel Roof

Kind of laid low that first day. Got a call from Shaheen bright and early Thursday morning. There was an embassy car waiting for me at 10am. Headed to the American Center, a separate building and different part of town than the actual US Embassy. Met with the famous Shaheen. Had some paperwork and basic orientation. Things were a bit crazy at the place because they were filming the Bangla version of Sesame Street and there were little kids swarming the place… cute.

Met a guy named Mika who is on an English teaching program. Picked his brain about how to find an apartment, how much to negotiate for rickshaws, is it safe to be out at night, is there any sort of social life, basic intro stuff… good guy.

Walked over to the HEED Language Center… had my first glimpse of the craziness of the streets… it’s really a sensory overload. Just so many sounds and colors and smells and people… there had just been a huge down pour and now it was sunny and sticky again. I felt so alive.

Kamal Atturtuk, main road in Banani

Gulshan-2 Circle

Of course I’m in the ritzier part of town. The hotel is in Baridhara, the real exclusive part of town with the embassies. The American center is in Banani, and between the two areas is Gulshan (there's Gulshan-1 and 2). These are the more touristy, safer places… you see some nice cars, people on cell phones, well dressed business people and professionals. There is of course the other extreme even in these parts town… but I’m sure it’s nothing compared to life in the rest of the city… but honestly I’d expected even these posh parts of town to be less developed than they are.

The HEED Language Center is great little guesthouse and language school. I think I’ll move in on Saturday or Sunday. Susan, the lady running the show said I could stay for a week or two. It will give me time to look for an apartment. I might start Bangla classes on Monday morning, 8am. Not sure though. It seems a bit like rushing into it, but if I don’t start now, I won’t be able to take the cheaper group lessons for another month, and instead I’d have to pay for individual lessons, which are much more expensive… we’ll see.

Trekked back to my hotel with another dude I met at HEED, Jim. He’s taking intense language courses for a few months, then is going to be working in a hospital down south, I think helping with interpretation or training or something.

His philosophy on giving to the beggars, is usually not to give money. It is rumored that women are kidnapped from the villages and forced to beg for money on behalf of others. Jim did see a woman right in the hectic Gulshan 2 circle with her child, so he walked her to a store and bought her some baby food that she’d requested.