Arriving in Dhaka was definitely throwing myself in the deep end of the East Asian swimming pool! No gentle easing in with a trip to Tokyo, Singapore, Beijing, or even Bangkok; bang slam straight into Dhaka. Whatever you see or hear will still leave you unprepared...
You arrive into humidity levels nearing 100% (I didn't even know that was possible but the pilot happily divulged) meaning your clothes instantly stick to you, while monsoon rains hit off tin roofs and a mass of taxi drivers in various contraptions wait to whisk you away. I opted for the exclusive limousine service (Bangladeshi style this just means a weathered taxi). The journey was enough excitment for the year; no one follows rules here, everyone drives all manner of things forward blindly and beeps their horns. Creating a very noisy, but thanks to the rickshaws, very colourful duel carriageway. After mega swerving and life threatening moments we ended up nearish my accomodation; the problem here is that the streets are so random no one knows where anything is so every journey involves about 10 stops to ask for directions.
Finally arriving, I found my single room containing a double and single bed despite requesting just a single. This confused me greatly as I was sure I had a private room so spent the afternoon expecting others to turn up, my jet lagged state also made me presume I was then sharing a bathroom so went down to reception to ask where it was. I was then taken back to my room where they opened the obvious door to the ensuite, giving me very confused looks as to where I had come from that ensuite bathrooms were not normal. So apparently the extra beds are all for me, meaning a whole plethra of places to watch TV from. Therefore first things first I made an inventory of all the English TV channels. Before settling down for my first Bangladeshi meal cooked by the hotel 'cook' from a slightly suspicious looking kitchen (you just eat what he gives you). Luckily my Bangla stretches to niramish (vegetarian) ;-). Dinner comprised of spiced vegetables, an oily soup, and enough rice to sink a ship with a little mango on the side for good measure. Good, especially the mango which I threw caution to the wind and ate (raw fruit and vegetable is bad news apparently).
DAY 2
Ok this day was virtually a write off. I woke up, looked at my watch read 5 and presumed this was am and I had woken up early so attempted to get back to sleep. Failed, got up, then realised it was 5pm! Felt I should probably leave the hotel, but the guidebook (in its infinte wisdom) advised against going out after dark, so I selected its nearest recommended eatery (luckily just down the road). Here everything on the outside looks a bit dodgy but inside I was relieved to see I had found one of Dhaka's nicer eating experiences serving 'authentic' Indian cusine at a fraction of home's prices.
VERDICT: Tasted just like a curry from back home. The Naan was good mind.
DAY 3
Since the fail of yesterday I had failed even further in then not getting to sleep until 5am and despite needing to be up for the first day of my internship at 7am. Not to worry, the first day of my internship involved getting across town to the offices of the NGO I was working for, and as far as I am concerned the only way to travel here is by one of the literally (correct use of the term here) thousands of rickshaws scattered across the city! You can't walk anywhere without someone trying to get you to take a ride in their rickshaw ;-) . They are amazing though, brightly coloured, and most importantly dirt cheap. Problem is I have not quite got my bartering right yet and seem to go either horrendously too low (at like 10p) or let them rip me off (I say this like its expensive we are still talking no more than a pound). My first journey across the city was definitely eye opening as we have to go through one of the slums which is dirty, smelly, but an experience. You certainly feel 'Western' here as you walk down the street as I feel like the new circus attraction in town. It leaves you feeling very self conscious that you are offending the local population with something you are doing but I am assured it happens to everyone! After meeting the other interns with me, we looked for something to do in the evening, unfortunately despite Dhaka being a huge city there is surprisingly little! This must be the only capital city in the world not showing Harry Potter to my huge disappointment! However, the one cinema in the city is showing Twilight right now (the first not even second or third mind) so I that can take up a few evenings I reckon ;-). Resulting in us ending up in an internet cafe that must be one of the more western options the city has to offer with a coffee menu featuring syrups and waffles and sandwiches on offer (plenty of time for eating curries another day) . Sitting in its air conditioned splendour I could have been in Glasgow, even the internet connection is dodgy here, reminds me of Virgin! Thankfully they understand the English for 'can you switch it off and on again' - works a treat!
Dhaka from the BRAC roof
Today I was back on a rickshaw to the offices of the NGO, BRAC http://www.brac.net/ I was interning with. Where we learnt about all the work the charity does in Bangladesh and further afield, largely in the area of microfinance, whereby BRAC gives small loans to the poor so they can invest the money and start a business or better their lifes which they then pay back at a fair interest rate. At the weekend we will be travelling to their projects in rural areas (I am already looking forward to escaping the crazyness of Dhaka). I decide that I probably should buy some more Bangla looking clothing attire (disguise is the key I reckon), Topshop has yet to reach here sadly so my attempts at style are not particularly appreciated. Walking about though is impossible, if you do manage to read a map nothing is where it is meant to be, there are no pavements, and rickshaws repeatly try to take your life! Even on a rickshaw your life is in danger and the major issue is that rickshaws cannot cross duel carriageways so whenever you hit one, you have to get out the rickshaw cross the road (praying for your life) then got on one at the other side. One shortish journey took 3 rickshaws today (which means being ripped off three times as well). Back to the comfort of my hotel, the Bangladeshi gods were shining on me, as none other than R-Patz's face was on my TV in the form of Cedric Diggory (this is the nearest to the final Harry Potter movie I will get here I feel).
Tonight though, I was leaving the seclusion of the Viator Guest House for a night out Dhaka style. It was one of the boys in the group's birthdays you see, unfortunately alcohol is not readily availiable here, so some sneaky dealings were involved to buy some which was then had at the flats of one of the interns. The boy in question was staying with an American expat host family here and since it was his birthday they let us join them at a party they were going to. Now when you live in a city such as Dhaka with very few Westerners and strict laws you have to make your own entertainment it would seem. The party we ended up at was thus hosted by a rich Western garment guru who turns his flat into a night club every now and then to stop himself going mad apparently. With a balcony view, marble floors, and a free bar we could have been anywhere but I would never have thought this sort of thing would be in Dhaka. It was like finding an Oasis in the Desert - crazy but amazing. Plenty of mum dancing and the most international group of people I have ever met in my life, being Scottish here makes me feel quite exotic (oh the irony)!
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