Jeni as a Bangladeshi

One of the inconveniences we have to put up with when working here in Bangladesh is the unstable access to the internet. Like the random electricity outages we experience, being able to connect through the web is usually a hit or miss. As political events recently have proved, its weak infrastructure makes it possible to, at any point in time, completely disconnect an entire country from the global network.

Did you know that fiber-optic broadband appeared in Bangladesh only two years ago? Here’s a little background. Remember the bubble back in the mid 90’s? During the excitement, all the telecoms went crazy and began investing ridiculous amounts of money into laying fiber optic cables all over the world. Because of this, countries that couldn’t afford the technology got it for free, and the entire world became connected on the investor’s dollar. This played a huge part in shaping the world as it is today: the cables sat around largely unused for a while, but when the bubble burst, panicking companies scrambled to stay out of bankruptcy by looking for ways to reduce cost and do business on the cheap. They looked east, and found countries, namely India, that not only understood the English language and had highly skilled workforces, but also, now thanks to the freebie fiber optic cables, made communications seamless and extremely cheap. Welcome to the birth of offshoring, and the rise of Asia.

Amongst all the commotion, Bangladesh, straddled between India and China, was largely ignored. Apparently, when all the foreign money was being poured into laying cable across the continent, Bangladesh had resisted, because of bureaucratic, political reasons that even its people aren’t able to understand.

Finally, sometime around 2005, its government finally woke up and decided that in order for Bangladesh to play any real part of the world economy, it needs to first connect itself. So it spent about $100 million (of its own money this time) to catch up. A decade later.

Now, sit back, and think about how our lives have changed in the past 10 years because of the internet (remember that horrible dial-up modem?). Think about the way in which our global economy has changed because of it. A full decade - and Bangladesh had missed out on the entire thing. Although more attention has been paid to this country recently as companies look beyond India/China for affordable labor and untapped markets, it’s still sad to think about how Bangladesh might have been today had things been different.

But I’m determined to end this entry on a positive note. Despite all of this, and despite its share of natural disasters and political mess, there’s a momentum of positive energy here. The people seem to be less dependent on the government and keen to make progressive changes with their own hands.  The majority world may have first heard about it when Muhammad Yunus won the Nobel Peace prize in 2006 for his invention of the microcredit model, but development activity has been happening years before, and continue to be a huge focus for everyone - rich or poor. The energy is contagious.

 

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A few other random things:

• Thanks to the speed of the postal service, I’ve begun to receive birthday packages, a month later!! My friends and family are amazing - what would I do without you guys?
• I was trying to break a record for being here the longest without being ‘affected’ by the food. That didn’t work out quite well - several weeks ago, my body finally decided to take revenge, and rewarded me with an entire week of keeping absolutely nothing down, fun hallucinations, and an exhilarating trip to the hospital. My local colleague/client, with whom I’ve bonded well with, accompanied me throughout the experience. This, although deathly embarrassing, also means that I can say to all my consulting friends out there - hey guess what? My client is cooler than your client!
• Lastly, and somewhat importantly, Starwood just opened a five-star Westin in downtown Dhaka! Although I can’t even imagine checking into a hotel like that with my current budget, I visited it this weekend to reminisce about my past life. I jumped onto the Sweet Sleeper bed on display in the lobby, rode the escalator up and down a few times, and discovered…food! My friends, you simply cannot begin to imagine the rush of seeing all that familiar food, all together, all at once. I mean, these people were not joking around - there was: REAL BAGUETTES. SMOKED SALMON. BROCCOLI. CHEESE. AVOCADO. REAL CHOCOLATE (Yes, I’m yelling in my head). Nevermind that a baguette cost the equivalent of $4, and the buffet cost us 2,500 TK ($35!). I know, I’m in a developing world, doing development work, experiencing the local lifestyle. But guess where I’ll be this weekend? In the buffet line? You bet!

The internet connection all over the country was cut for the past 24 hours, and apparently has just been repaired. Here’s an entry I wrote while offline yesterday:

I went downstairs and waited for the car that usually comes to pick me up for work, which did not show up. Someone who spoke a little bit of English told me the curfew, which should have ended this morning, is ongoing and may extend for a "long time". I called my local sponsor, my most dependable contact here who’s fluent in English - couldn’t get through. I called my other ADP colleague living a few blocks down the street - no connection. I called everyone on my contact list. What the heck is wrong with my phone? I asked to borrow the phone at the guest house, and was told that the phone networks in the city have been shut off. I logged onto my computer, and the connection was deathly slow, borderline nonexistent. It took me almost 30 minutes to log onto my company network to let my contacts know of my situation. Shortly afterwards, the connection died - and is still dead. I came decently close to having a panic attack.

So I admit. I’m not as mature, stable, and brave as I’d like to be in a situation like this. The English speaking guest house staff hinted to me that I’m overreacting. But since these are the same type of people who can watch fatal accidents in front of them without much more than shrug (as i wrote about in the previous entry), their words do not bring me too much consolation. No, I’m not exactly afraid that the rioting will directly put my life in danger. The terror that welled up inside came from the realization that I am right in the middle of a major national crisis, and yet at the same time am completely detached from it because of the language barrier. With all that’s going on a few blocks away, with all the talk on the news and amongst the neighbors, I alone am clueless to their words. It’s a workday, and yet there’s not a sound outside my door - imagine midtown Manhattan completely empty at 8 in the morning. I turn on the TV, and flip through intense Bangladeshi news channels I can’t understand to pause on the English speaking ones - Discovery Channel is showing a special on monkeys. Another channel’s airing an old Seinfeld episode. BBC was giving the sports update. It’s the calm right before a huge storm. It feels almost surreal.

The panic is also brought on by seeing that both access to communication and transportation I’ve come to rely on can all of a sudden, and all at once, become nonexistent. If something were to happen, I can’t physically get anywhere - streets are closed, no cars, no rickshaws. I can’t reach an agent to book a ticket, I can’t make a call to let anyone know of my situation, I can’t use the internet to send a note out. In such a situation, I am flat out of options. It’s claustrophobic. The realization is debilitating.

Yes, I’m long overdue an update. Here’s a quick one - I’ll write more in the evening.

This is a note to say that I am safe. After hearing from some of you from back home, I’m surprised to see that news of the violence here has made it back so quickly. Here’s a quick recap of the situation from my end. Over the past few months there had been several riots and protests over the political situations here, but all of them were put under control quickly. All of a sudden, on Tuesday, there was an extremely violent riot at the downtown University here (extremely close by). I was told that student protests here are quite different from those in the States. Instead of symbolizing the exercise of public opinion, student demonstrations are almost always promoted/instigated/backed up by political influence from either side of the two opposing parties (and that’s all I’ll say about that here). Apparently the violence continued until yesterday evening, and led to several shootings. Most of us were largely unaware of the relative seriousness of it (since this wasn’t the first public protest) until early afternoon when the military declared an 8 PM curfew for the entire city. Office buildings were shut down early and we all go off work around 4.

It was extremely quiet at night - almost eerily so. I did hear a few loud whistles now and then, but beyond that I was more or less safe and oblivious in my room with my dal, naan, and old episodes of the Sopranos.

The concept of life and death is a bit different here. Maybe it’s because death is seen as a natural part of the cycle, or perhaps it happens so often here that the shock of individual deaths is absorbed by acceptance that it’s just one more death. But for me, this is still largely frightening. Once, we were driving on the highway and witnessed a traffic accident, where a taxi car was almost completely buried under a truck. To my complete bewilderment, traffic went on as normal, and those who stopped did so briefly before moving on. I was told that although ambulances and emergency rescue teams "exist", the chance that they would show up within 2 hours, or at all, is slim. That is if they could be reached in the first place.

Another time, a few of us were on a train to visit some nearby tea plantations.  Halfway on our journey, the train made a sudden stop, and we were temporarily stationed in the middle of nowhere amongst farms and rice fields. Curiously enough, no one bothered to get out of their seats or stray from their conversations. Likewise, we oblivious foreigners followed suit and continued with our card games. After more than an hour, we (ok, I) got a bit cranky, so a friend who knew some Bangla went to investigate. From what he understood, there was either something wrong with the train or we had hit something on the tracks, but the train’s sudden stop caused the operator to fall out of the car. The last hour was spent clearing the fatal accident and looking for someone else to operate the train. Just like that. I was sick to my stomach the entire rest of the ride. And what’s most disturbing to me is that I doubt either of these incidents made it in the local newspaper, which dedicates half its space to political news and the other to describing the ‘latest’ news on reducing calories in meals while advertising "American-flavored potato chips."

And on that note, I should now go get ready for work. The curfew will likely last for a few days, so I’ll use the extra time tonight to give some other, less morbid updates. 

Yesterday, my company’s "Global Asset Protection" power team went crazy looking for me because I had given them an outdated contact number. Today, they emailed me more urgent information regarding the political instability here in the city, such as the following excerpt:

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Security: UPDATE 1: Police on high alert as protests erupt across Bangladesh July 17, following arrest of AL leader Sheik Hasina Wajed. Avoid all demonstrations.

This alert affects Bangladesh.

This alert began 17 Jul 2007 09:14 GMT and is scheduled to expire 23 Jul 2007 23:59 GMT.

Updated Information (July 17)

Protests erupted across Bangladesh July 17 in response to the recent arrest of former Prime Minister and Awami League (AL) leader, Sheik Hasina Wajed. Several protests turned violent as AL supporters clashed with security forces. Avoid all demonstrations. Expect increased security in cities across the country.

Protests in Dhaka were especially violent. Three home-made bombs exploded at Dhaka University as students took part in nationwide university strikes. Officials report no injuries in the attack. Security forces fired shotguns at protesters who gathered in Goal Nagar and Malitola areas and on English Road in the old part of Dhaka, injuring at least 30 demonstrators. Pro-AL lawyers gathered at the Court of the Chief Metropolitan Magistrate (CMM) in Dhaka as Hasina arrived for the start of her trial.
 

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In a nutshell, for the past couple of months there was a ’showdown’ of sorts between the country’s two competing governments (who have been battling one another for years now), causing an incredible amount of instability in the political arena and hostility out on the streets.  As a result, an interim, ‘caretaker’ government stepped up to fill its place until a permanent one can be chosen. So yes, we are currently living without a government. And yesterday, security forces raided the home of the leader and Prime Minister of one of the parties, arresting her under murder allegations and corruption charges. So expectantly, all hell broke lose.

The political situation here in Bangladesh is an interesting topic that I’d love to dedicate an entire entry to talk about. However, today’s is not such an entry.

It’s been a while since I’ve last updated. Mostly it’s because I’ve been spending a lot of time on my project (and not because i was lazy or anything). Since my project is in its beginning phases, I’ve been involved in much of the planning, strategizing, and conceptualizing. Today marks somewhat of a milestone, as I finally presented my proposal and recommendations to the board. I needed their approval so that I can tap into their resource/talent pool to actually carry out the plan.

The presentation meeting can be summarized into three major areas:

* Before: As usual, the assistants came around to pass out cups of tea and biscuits. And as usual, I was the only female in a group of male managers. What started out as polite introductions and questions about my home country begin morphing into comments about my looks, my appearance, and ‘light’ jokes about why everyone actually showed up to meeting today. So there I was, sitting professionally at the front of the table in my suit, a smile plastered across my bright red face as I gave myself a silent reality check - are these guys really having this conversation? with me right here? Should I say something in return?

* During: I lost my bright cheerful Jeni-smile as the no-nonsense side of me kicked in. I went through my proposal, detailing out my plan, its value potential, and the commitment I needed from their end. One thing I’ve noticed about myself is that when speaking about things that I am passionate about, I become extremely energetic (sometimes a bit too much), and I think it shows. Much of that energy today, though, was also fed from the audience. Everyone was extremely attentive, and all eyes and ears (well, all eyes until you establish eye contact with them, which is when they quickly look away). They listened to my points, but also felt completely at liberty to [politely] disect and rip them apart. Nonetheless, it made for an engaging discussion.

* Afterwards: Presentation ended on a high note. Got the buy-in from all the stakeholders, and the chairman announced that he was very impressed! Woohoo! (these are the finer moments of being a consultant!) After a quick concluding discussion, there was a brief period of silence, during which I was convinced that everyone was deep in thought about my proposal. Then someone broke the silence - "Okay, no more business. Basketball, anyone?"

There you go - that, my friends, is a glimpse of a typical work day. The experience here is worth its value in gold.

Oh, and I got myself an intern! Here’s our initiation event for him - at New Market, a ginormous outdoor shopping area packed with all kinds of random household items for sale.

[edit]pictures to be provided later, as the hosting site for my pictures is being a bit wack.

Friday is becoming my favorite day of the week, mostly because there are [relatively] fewer people on the streets. This may seem unbelievable, but it’s the difference between Times Square (x 10^n) and say, the Financial District after 7pm (x 10^n). I hopped on a ride this Friday and went an hour or so south of the city, to visit the "old Dhaka" area. Here, the residents see even fewer foreigners, so everywhere we went, within 2-3 minutes we would be circled by a mob of people.

 

It was hard to take pictures without having everyone crowd up to your camera, as witnessed above, when we attempted to pause briefly to try some local street food.

 

Despite the post-rainstorm mud, the narrow streets of "old" Dhaka is characteristic by being mostly ignored by current urban development efforts. It’s great because it’s different, not so great because, although we can argue about the details, development is ultimately a good thing.

 

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- Other Thoughts -

"It’s warped" - that’s how someone described Bangladesh after being here for a few months. Although approaching only my first month, I can begin to relate to her description. By ‘warped’ I’m referring to the initially odd encounters and experiences that no longer seemed peculiar or astounding as they gradually become ingrained as part of the idiosyncratic routine of life here. Like for example, the rainstorms that come and go several times a day. At first I thought it absurd that during these sky-breaking outpours, although some run indoors, most continue on with their leisurely stroll; and still others lounge around comfortably in place. But by now, I too barely notice the rainstorms anymore. Except, I still make a mad dash for cover when I’m walking outside and caught completely off-guard, which usually has been the case.

Another is the electricity. In an effort to conserve energy, there are designated times of the day when each district or area takes turns shutting off its power for a few minutes. Brilliant idea, made even more exciting given that the power outages are conducted unannounced and at precisely random times of the day. At first this struck me as incredulous - forget individuals and families, how can businesses operate with multiple, random outages on a daily basis without incurring outrageous costs? But apparently, like dealing with most work issues, the solution here is usually a cup of tea and a plate of mangos until the power comes back up.

One other - it’s the side-by-side (literally) coexistence of extreme economic classes. On one end are the manual laborers, the rickshaw drivers, etc. Immediately on the other end are those with chauffeurs, cooks, and/or servants. People are either at one end or the other, with not much in the middle save the expats, aid workers, and miscellaneous oddities like myself.

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Lastly, I opened up this thing yesterday evening and left a few pieces in my room; by this morning its odor completely permeated every piece of clothing owned. Any guesses on what the heck this is?

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I haven’t been able to check my gmail account for a bit because the internet here has been unbelievably slow and unstable. But thanks to everyone who emailed to check up on me and the monsoon flooding here. I am safe and sound, although the extreme rain these past few days has caused extreme flooding everywhere. In Chittagong, a city close by, mudslides killed 84 people and still several hundred are missing. Here in Dhaka, water in some areas were up a few feet high. I’m not sure why a proper drainage system isn’t a priority here; workers were manually digging trenches to get street water flowing to a nearby lake.

If I were brave I’d have taken my camera out to take some pictures, but knowing that I am here for work and representing my company, I have an obligation to remain safe and decently sane. But here are some snapshots from the local newspaper:
 

 

 

It’s fun to take pictures in this place because everything is so alive here - raw, uncut, and incredibly colorful. It is also incredibly contradictory - commercial centers and tall buildings stand next to crumbling houses, chauffeured sedans share the road with peddlers (and sometimes herds of goats), families with servants neighbor the homeless on the corner block.

Within the blink of an eye, it’s already been two weeks here in Dhaka. I’ve situated myself here relatively well, although I’ve gotten to recognize that being in a foreign country to visit as a shortterm traveler is vastly different from actually establishing a lifestyle. When the rain is causing the streets to flood, I still had to find a way to get to work. A couple of nights ago, our electricity went out while I was doing some work, and I found myself downstairs where there was light, drawing process flows with a pencil and paper. Today, while washing some lychees, I noticed that they were infested with little worms, and ended up having to chew on some leftover bread while watching the rain.

But the rain eventually stopped. I walked to the market and stocked up on food. Then I went to a small bookstore (that sells various selections of books in English, but more importantly, carries a few copies of each week’s Economist) to read my favorite subscription poke fun of world events with its usual witty and dry British humor. And in the evening, I met up with a friend for dinner - we made plans to take a trip in a few weeks, but still have to finalize on the destination (Nepal: 1-hr flight;  India: 1-hr flight; Thailand: 2-hr flight, etc. - it’s as long as a commute to work!)

So yes, I’m settling in decently well. Even so, here are a few things I am missing:

* consistent broadband internet connection
* clean, paved, *dry* streets
* being able to wear shorts in 100 degree weather
* going up and down Hudson River Parkway on my bike
* a quality cup of espresso
* New York bagels (my god, do I miss those bagels)
* extremely long Sunday mornings at Pan Latin, surrounded by magazines and newspapers I can’t finish reading
* and most importantly, family and friends, who used to be just a domestic phone call away - although, I just installed Skype (screenname jeni.q.yang), let me know if you’re also dork enough to have it

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Note: if you’re interested in seeing more pictures, I’ve been posting them at another site with more storage space that my friend is hosting for me (thanks Navid - I now have no excuse for being lazy with uploading). I’ve ambitiously created folders there to store some pictures from the past couple of… years. For now, please ignore the fact that the majority of them are mostly empty

http://www.leangreeneatingmachine.com 

One of my high school superlatives was going to be "most likely to drown in a puddle," but that was eventually (and fortunately) voted off the list because it wasn’t nice, and it also wasn’t true. Well, clearly no one knew about Dhaka puddles.

For the past three days, we’ve had daily bursts of Bangladeshi monsoon. They’ve all hit precisely at the moment I’m about to head out the door in the mornings. The entire sky turns dark, gives you a few seconds to observe the impending doom, and, just like that, it’s torrential downpour. It’s almost frightening. Three days. I think that’s my limit. Because this morning, I decided that I will not be hindered by a little rain. So I changed to my flip flops, took out my umbrella, and braved the elements. As I walked down the streets, I chose my steps carefully and hopped over deep puddles. I had fun for a little bit, until I realized that I was hopping over puddles and into deeper puddles. I couldn’t see my feet, and then I couldn’t see my ankles. It was after I stepped on something sticky a foot deep in the water that reality hit and I realized that not only did I look extremely stupid, I, in fact, was extremely stupid. I gave myself a minute to fully digest this revelation, and then waded my way back to my place - two measly blocks from where I was standing.

It all ended well though. The guest house folks had a great laugh, and I had long, long, long, hot shower. It was definitely an unforgettable experience.

Over the past few days, I’ve spent a lot of time walking around. it’s the best way to really get a feel of the place. When I get back, drenched in sweat and feeling accomplished, I’d open up the map of Dhaka and realize how embarrassingly little area I’ve covered. But my treks have been somewhat useful; I’ve bought a few pieces of kameez, discovered a bookshop that had books in English, and gotten somewhat more used to the staring. Not quite yet.

So far, here are a few things I’ve discovered that are good, bad, and make absolutely no sense:

* The weather. It’s a sauna that you don’t have to pay for. During the day, stepping outside feels similar to opening the door of an oven. Except whatever’s baking in the oven does not smell anything close to edible food. Or food, period.

* I remember jotting down in my pre-departure research that there was a Hertz car rental here. Now I can almost laugh at my ignorance. Driving in Dhaka is like a joke that’s not too funny. There are no rules, and if there are any stop lights they’ve apparently stopped working. And everyone here honks, at everything and nothing. They will honk when they’re behind you, next to you, and after they’ve passed you. I think if you were to take the horns out of the cars here, all would be in a state of chaos. (note - this type of driving is not limited to Dhaka; it’s pretty much the same when I went back to China. And also in parts of Peru. Quite amusing to watch!)

 

* Food is great. You probably wouldn’t have guessed, but Dhaka has a big variety of international cuisine. Within these couple of days, I’ve had really good Japanese, Vietnamese, Thai, and Italian. Food is also cheap. Most great dishes can be had for 150-200 taka. That’s less than 3 bucks. I’ve also had really good local food, all of which have been extremely spicy. I haven’t had the chance to try much of the street food here. But I did get introduced to these little pockets of heaven known as Fuchkas, which are these fried shells, in which is stuffed with potatoes/chickpeas/minced meat, and then loaded with toppings and spices. You put an entire one in your mouth; the crispy shell bursts into an amazing array of flavors. Amazing!

* Everyone stares. There are hardly any foreigners here, and the locals are naturally curious. A friend who had lived here for years warned me about this, but admittedly I was still not quite prepared for it. Being a female foreigner makes me that much more interesting to stare at - although there should be close to 70 million women in the country, they’re nowhere to be seen. The few women I found in the streets were either with husbands or family. So as a result, foreigners will find that all eyes are fixed on them from crowds on both sides. I guess it’s almost like being a celebrity. Except celebrities are rich. And the children here love to follow us. I was walking with my friend when we noticed that a bunch of kids were crowding around us. So we walked faster, but they followed faster - it was all quite amusing. We then thought we’d lose them with boredom, so we stopped at a corner and stood there silently for almost five minutes. They stood there with us.

* I love riding on the rickshaws. I don’t use these when going to work because of my laptop, and because the owner of my guest house insists that I be dropped off in their car; apparently robbers have been known to run past rickshaws and snatch purses. But other than that, I think it’s fun to climb into them and whirl though (or getting stuck in) traffic. It’s slightly frightening at times because the seat is narrow, and there’s nothing to hang on to. I’m not sure what would happen when there’s a sudden stop, but I guess these things don’t go that fast anyway. There’s an estimated 700,000 of these in the city, each of them covered with bright decorations. They make for an interesting view when stuck in traffic. And speaking of that, I’ve yet to figure out why Dhaka’s road layout is the way it is. In one of the most densely populated cities in the world, its designer must have thought it fun to make all roads converge at single roundabouts. So no matter where you want to go, you inevitably get sucked into these centralized roundabouts, creating an unbelievable amount traffic. And you thought LA and NYC were bad.

* It’s only been a week, but I’m tempted to conclude that the people in Bangladesh are probably the nicest in the world. As I walk in my neighborhood, people standing around at their doorways always smile (while staring, of course), and say "Good day madam! How are you?" And everyone goes out of their way to help, because to them it’s not out of the way at all. I stopped to ask for directions once, and a crowd came and began offering advice. Unfortunately they were pointing in all directions, so needless to say we didn’t get too far.

It’s now Friday, the beginning of the weekend. The 4am prayer just sounded off from the nearby mosque. In a bit, the construction crew outside will come out of their temporary shacks and begin their day. An hour or two later, villagers will load large baskets of produce on their heads to sell on the streets. As for me, I plan on being equally productive. My plans are to eat a plateful of mangos with fresh squeezed mango juice for breakfast, and then go for a light morning jog. Then I’ll hop onto a rickshaw and venture into more of this chaotic yet vibrant and energetic city.

I miss home. But I’m not yet homesick. Dhaka, in all its craziness, is feeding my addiction for adventure.

The work week in Bangladesh is Sunday to Thursday, which conveniently gives me two days to familiarize myself with my new neighborhood. But since my client counterpart will be gone on business travel in the upcoming week, we decided to have a quick introductory meeting to provide background. Our office is at the headquarters of the Bangladesh Rural Advancement Committee (BRAC), which was one of the first in the world to pioneer the concept of an NGO, and currently remains as the world’s largest - at over 97,000+ employees.

The meeting was brief but productive; the project aims to tackle the issue of a growing gap between a rapidly growing mobile telecom market  (estimated to grow another 17% in 2007 alone) and a limited workforce with qualified skills to support this trend. The objective is to create a sustainable workforce skills-development model that uses an innovative approach involving 3 key areas: government for support and initial funding, academia for knowledge resources, and the private sector for design and execution. I foresee this project to be tough but loaded with potential value, especially because my colleague, its acting executive director, seems extremely competent, passionate about his work, and most importantly, open to innovative approaches.

Okay, okay, no more dry details.

In the afternoon, I met another ADP colleague for lunch. He is from the Paris office, and here in Bangladesh for a similar 6 month project. We had Japanese (…and I had sushi. Yes, I know, I know. I’ll deal with it later if I have to!). He’s become quite the local here; all the rickshaw drivers recognize him and hurry over when we pass by. We walked around to some of the main streets, which he said are pretty empty today because Friday is ‘prayer’ day, so most people stay in. While walking around, I also noticed that there were hardly any women in the streets, and the ones I saw were with their families. Hmm.

He showed me around to some of the local necessities - namely, the grocery store, and the pirated DVD shop. Then, at my request, we went to the ‘best’ bakery, and ‘best’ ice cream shop. At the store I bought myself a huge bag of tasty rice cakes, which were 17 Takas ($1 = 68 Taka, you do the math)

Before you get too carried away with visualizing the city, I want to point out that I live in an area where all the Embassies are located, so it caters to the expats here. Even so, it’s impossible to ignore the poverty all around.

The streets are littered with sewage and full of homeless children. The nearby lake is a disturbing shade of bright green, and yet families live on lakeside shacks and bathe in the water. 

It’s all quite disturbing, until you walk a bit closer, and notice that most people are smiling, laughing, and content.

Okay, it is now 1:30 in the morning here, and I should at least make an attempt to overcome my jetlag before the next call to prayer in a few hours. Tomorrow, my friend will be showing me more of the city and helping me get a mobile phone, which reminds me:

If you called me and got a ‘disconnected’ message, please don’t erase my number! I’ve had Verizon Wireless temporarily suspend my phone for the next 6 months, but I will be keeping the same number when I get back.