What Dhaka really has to offer...

Time certainly flies, with the internship at BRAC heading full pelt towards an end before it even seemed to begun (well it sort of never did start). Which means no more observations of the goings on at the head offices of an NGO but the promise of work in a research team has given us a little more to do. Our last day was therefore spent eating the canteen food (only 25p for a full lunch) and meeting Sir Abed the head of BRAC, a bit of a celebrity moment where we all got a photo with him!

With a few weeks left though we had to start finding things to do though! One of the good things about living in the cultural lull that is Dhaka for two months is having the time to visit the array of attractions that that no other tourist would visit. First stop Dhaka's very own theme park - Fantasy Kingdom.

Mariam having Bengali roots means she knows half of Bangladesh (Bengalis like to be very well connected with everyone having everyone's mobile number, even the rickshaw driver will ask for your number then text you pleading for money) so using her connections we all got free passes - YEAH.

The obligatory two hour drive through Dhaka's terrible roads just to move a few miles thanks to Dhaka's dreadful roads was worth it (almost). You see firstly as it was Ramadan the place was deserted with the eery appearance of the set of a Scooby Doo episode. Walking around the bright coloured paving and rides with slightly fading paint you could also be touring sets for a horror movie. While the rides were definitely more fairground than theme park, on the way there one of the girls declared that Thorpe Park was 'not that good' so she was in for a treat when we arrived.

It was a wonderfully surreal experience though as the few working rides had no queues, in a few hours we managed to go on a whirly thing, walk though the Vortex Tunnel (a few dodgy mirrors and a shaky floor), even braving the Roller Coaster (more of a Caterpillar Train for fairground veterans). Without a doubt though the highlight was the Bumper Cars that after a few technological difficulties proved to be an almost deadly experience thanks to the boys. With no breaks and an accelator than goes from 0 to 60 far quicker than my own car these things are damn snappy and a lack of seatbelts provides the potential for whiplash as an added extra. So it was great fun crashing into each other full pelt as we were able to do what would make a UK health and safety officer turn in their grave.

Pretending we were on a ride and the wonderful Vortex Tunnel!
Next on our cultural quest was visiting the historic core of Dhaka the aptly named Old Dhaka. My first trip was at night with Mariam's cousins to experience the last meal Bengalis have before dawn, Sehri at 2am. Even at this late hour Dhaka was packed with people all eating from stalls and the sweet shops were all making delicious fresh mushti. We however shunned this for a very old school restaurant and a meal of naan bread, dahl, and fish in an oily sauce. Scrumptious food and we were even put in a booth that was for women only (not needed anymore just a decorative quirk I was assured).

After a meal at 2am.

My next trip to Old Dhaka involved a tour that showed us around the heritage sites that need renovating. With so many development issues in Dhaka and Bangladesh as a whole any budget NGOs or foreign actors in the country have goes straight, and rightly so, as aid to development projects. Therefore projects that aim to rejuvenate old parts of the cities or reconstruct old historic buildings have little or no funding available. Finding these architectually beautiful buildings that are crumbling away is quite a trail as they are tucked away behind side streets or old rusty gates. Old Dhaka is definitely where the character of the city is contained full of old mosques (one of which we entered creating a potential religious crisis as I tried to put my shoes on inside) as well as plenty of tiny streets with shops containing a plethra of items. During Ramadan the breaking of fast at Iftar is a huge event so in the main food market, Chowk Bazaar, the stalls were all selling snack type (and very fried) food for Iftar. As this is the most exciting food market in Dhaka to buy food with street stallers all busily frying and preparing the feasts in front of you a local news crew was there filming a feature. To their delight us 'stick out like a sore thumb' foreigners were there to add the perfect addition to the news feature so with them speaking no English and us speaking no Bangla we stood surrounded by Bengalis announcing very slowly and loudly 'HELLO, WE ARE IN THE CHOWK BAZAAR BUYING IFTAR FOOD. IT IS DELICIOUS'. Mariam's family later saw us on the news, so although I have yet to find it, I definitely have Bangladeshi celebrity status now. In the BRAC office, a woman even recognised us in the lift!

Iftar Food

Feeling that our stomachs had strengthened sufficiently we decided to buy some snacks from here and sneakily eat them in the car (before Iftar time) and I wish I could say my eating decision was a good one but the Chowk Bazaar got its revenge and food poisoning managed to take hold of me for the next few days. Luckily shopping is one thing that can not get me down on our discovery that Dhaka does actually have civilisation. Firstly in the form of a shopping mall, that has many floors of shiny delight, yet still bizarrly manages to maintain a completely Bengali identity. Bangladesh is one of the few places where Western culture has not hit so the shopping mall is stuffed full of shops selling Bengali clothes and material, pirate DVDs and Playstation games, and even the food court only serves curry or fried chicken. At least it looked shiny and I managed to purchase a very outlandish chilli necklace and Bengali baggy trousers for some hybrid Bangla style.

Our other encounter with civilisation has been through our tours of the various ex-pat clubs around the city. These are a sort of haven for foreigners living in Dhaka where you can go and find normal food, exercise in safety, drink alcohol without being judged, and wear strappy tops. So far the American Club has been the only one I have managed to get in to as you need a member to sign you in and our Dhaka contacts only stretch as far as US citizens (apparently the Nordic club is where to be, and there is even a Caledonian Society already taking bookings for its annual Burn's Supper). The American Club is definitely fun to visit as it contains so many foreigners you could (almost) be out of Dhaka and being able to have a drink without a dodgy back alley deal is a novelty.

While finally of course we have managed to eat out in as many restaurants as possible in Dhaka, using trip advisor as a rough guide, however KFC and Nandos are the top rated which is slightly worrying, they do love their fried chicken here! Dhaka prices mean that we can afford to eat in the nicest restaurants which we always enter wearing the casualist attire. Having interns from all around the world means we have attempted to sample restaurants from everyone's country (haggis is non existant sadly). We have had chinese, japanese, korean, indian and thai receiving mixed reviews from everyone. The North Korean restaurant here though is apparently used by Kim Jong-il for money laundering, adding a little extra to our experience there. The best bit though is getting free Iftar food from Mariam's family which is always absolutely amazing....

An Iftar feast courtesy of Mariam's mother...

Becoming a Bangkoker...

The best thing about arriving with the 40 other people on our very quiet flight from Dhaka to Bangkok is that you feel like you are escaping from hell to some sort of oasis (maybe a slight exaggeration but Dhaka is lacking quite a lot of luxury). Myself and the other other interns were treating Bangkok as a relaxing holiday of sorts where we could eat non-curried food, drink in bars, and sit on a beach without a Birkini (they do exist) and had even used the Hangover II as research...
The next excitement was of course seeing Western brands; even a McDonalds and a Krispy Kreme doughnut stand brought tears of joy to our eyes while the public transport system was beautiful compared to a Dhaka rickshaw. The only off putting factor on Thai public transport is that a number of passengers insist on wearing those air filter mask things which set you slightly at ease as you suspiciously sniff the air...

I do realise I am making Dhaka sound hellish but it is a very isolating place where instant coffee is the best caffeine kick you are going to find. To a very weary bunch of us our first taste of Thai food was in the form of the Aloha Cafe (as authentic as it comes) where we had dumplings, noodles, and thai soup with lots of extra nose running chilli flakes. Stomachs satisfied our first walk along Thai streets did not disappoint, firstly we walked down the main tourist street which is honestly gap year heaven! Every item of clothing that is stereotypically gap yah is on display including patches for your rucksack, elephant trousers, hippy bags, and  even a 'travellers passport'. Well when you can't beat em join em so we bought our elephant trousers and headed straight to the air conditioned Starbucks to exchange stories about cultural awareness. It was on a side street near here that we encountered without a doubt the best thing we have ever seen:

Yes that's right a sleeping snorlax with a very unfortunate rip in his trousers. Welcome to Thailand. A tup tup (Thailand's motorised version of the rickshaw) was in order to take us back to the luxury of our hotel where Thailand's next treat our ladyboy hostel receptionist greeted us. Very funny as we all stumbled through whether 'he' or 'she' is the correct term to address the inappropriately named 'Nice' with, she also of course inserted the typical ladyboy joke when she told the boys they could shower in her room LOL. 

The boys' main objective on this trip was funnily enough not to shower in her room but to visit the Thailand that only comes out at night and thanks to the very liberal sexual views in Thailand, high frequency of travellers, and abundance of sleazy men is very much alive. As we stumbled through the red light district of Bangkok the offers were pretty overwhelming. I do not need to spell out exactly what was offered but believe me you can literally see ANYTHING in this city, be it a ping pong show, go-go show, or anything else that takes your fancy! The offers were frankly too much so at the boys insistence we were persuaded to go to one bar where women dance in bikinis on pedestals. From a girl's perspective this was anything but hot as slightly out of shape women shuffled from foot to foot before crowding round big fat Western men. Making a sweeping statement here but Thai girls really need to sort out their definition of good looking as every single one I saw is shooting way below their level.

To get our revenge we decided to head to the gay district nearby where boys dressed in an even smaller version of the speedo dance round poles. Keith getting slightly cocky after seeing all the males eyeing him up proceeded to announce he was like the 'Thai Brad Pitt' while Alex was too horrified by his glimpses inside bars to move any further. Keith's Brad Pitt status did gain him an offer of $50 from a gay guy walking down the street proving money in Thailand can buy you anything and at a cheap price too! In an effort to be more manly the boys then had to eat some very disgusting fried insects from a street stand.

It also turned out that travelling with 4 different types of passports does create difficulties, as Chinese Shutong went to get a visa from the Bangladesh embassy to return to Dhaka and was promptly told she could not get one in Bangkok and her only option was to return to China. Meaning our Chinese fifth was being deported basically, a very funny but upsetting scenario especially Shutong shouting out in a bar slightly drunk 'I'M BEING DEPORTED'. To drown her sorrows a visit to a Thai club was in order where we could order actual alcohol and not Dhaka's juice alternatives. As far as people watching goes Bangkok is amazing; the main tourist drinking spots are filled with gap year students, middle aged hippies, and Thai girls with old men. While the non-touristy clubs sport Thai hipsters and lady boys who require a second glance to be sure. It gets so confusing that we declared one the best looking lady boy we had seen in Bangkok before realising: 'That's not a lady boy, that's just a lady'...

Busting a move Thai style...
By day aside from buying ridiculous amounts of souvenirs, the street food is without a doubt the best bit. You can buy coconuts, fresh fruit, sushi, fried fish, baked bananas, fried noodles, noodles with soup, pancakes - all cooked by little stalls and incredibly tasty. Best of all is the fried morning glory that is a menu staple and when you get over the snickering actually quite tasty. Being a Buddhist country Bangkok is also full of beautiful temples with huge golden statues of Buddhists, apparently though asking to have my photo taken in front of one while bowing is inappropriate (oh and asking the Chinese Shutong to take her photo in front of China Town is racist). For Shutong and I though getting to a shopping mall was one of the more enticing prospects of Bangkok and after living in Dhaka was a beautiful glowing beacon containing shops from everywhere in the world; with Korean stationary, Japanese clothes, American food, and yes a TOPSHOP ( I was dragged away though without a glance). I am told that having a dream to visit every Topshop in the world is pretty unambitious and sad...

The next part of our escape from Dhaka holiday was visiting the beach, oh the hard life being an intern is. Getting there was slightly stressful as it involved our coach breaking down (the hand gestures the woman used to describe this were priceless though) but mainly because we sat in front of the most annoying American boy who had just found a very dumb American girlfriend to impress. He spent ages wowing her with his pretentious stories and depictions of all the really out there tattoos he was planning on getting, at one point even explaining earthquakes as 'these like really deep seismic movements that like shake the earth' completed with an almost surfer accent. Sadly the island we were headed to was pretty small and we bumped into the aptly named 'gay yah guy' once too many. At least the boat to the island was very Mamma Mia-esque and old school and once there we got to travel in a jeep type thing with the world's worst suspension so we felt suitably tropical island chic by the time we got to our resort. We approached it with somewhat apprehension as the boys had booked it, so quite frankly we could have been staying anywhere. Luckily the boys are more materialistic than us and had chosen a four star luxury resort complete with a spa, swimming pool, and buffet breakfast that was more than adequate (albeit lacking baked beans).


The bubble of luxury did burst ever so slightly when we realised we were staying in a gay resort for hoards of Asian male couples made even more amusing by the very active gay club that the resort was beside. Being the Thai Brad Pitt made Keith slightly nervous so we moved further along the beach to drink rum coconut cocktails and party with the other travellers on the island. Drink here is served in buckets with straws that are sadly more lethal than they initially appear so dancing on tables was definitely in order.

Luckily to recover the next day staying in a beach resort does have the added bonus of enabling me to have a Thai massage to recover followed by a boat trip to watch the sun set. Shutong decided to meditate on the beach to ensure the desert island feel was complete, the photo we took will apparently make her Mum cry!

Returning to Bangkok however was inevitable in order to ship Shutong back to China so she could then hopefully get back into Bangladesh. For my last day I decided to do what could only be done in Bangkok - WATCH HARRY POTTER. Almost a month after the rest of the world I finally got to see the last instalment with a green tea Japanese latte and the offer of Wasabi popcorn (shunned in favour of a classic mix of sweet and salted). I must admit it wasn't quite the same as watching back home as firstly we all had to stand and sing the national anthem and secondly it was sort of fuzzy. And when I say sort of fuzzy I am a hundred percent sure I paid to watch a pirate copy, which came complete with scribbles jumping up on the screen every now and then. Slightly disappointing but at least I got to watch the magic, the stealing of the Braveheart line 'You and what army' from Neville was a random addition mind....

Turning into a cultural Muslim while still being extremely foreign in Dhaka....

So far I am fitting into the culture pretty well here I would say. My day of Ramadan fasting was a success, well I managed it I can't say it was an experience I would repeat. It is doable until about 2pm then you get hungry and for the last hour before 6.45pm is it basically torture as not only are you hungry but so thirsty. It was someone's birthday and the Pizza Hut in Dhaka was having an Iftar all you can eat special so I broke fast there. The food is all plated up in advance so everyone can eat at exactly the point it hits 6.45pm so for about 15 minutes the temptation is incredible. Then when you can break fast you eat so much food that you feel as ill as you did befor! So basically the whole experience is sort of pointless. I have thus decided not to fast any more but just have the Iftar feast instead. A cultural Muslim some might say!

In the same way though that not all Christians go to church every Sunday not all Muslims fast so those who don't want to keep their identity secret so cannot eat openly on the street. So instead all these little market stalls open up covered by material so people can sit behind them and eat in secret. An advantage of being a foreigner for me is that I can just crack upon the coke on the street, very cruel I know.
For one Iftar I was able to go with one of my friend's to a political event as her Mum is a politician here. Which meant dressing up like a Bengali and being the only white person in a very Muslim room. My Bengali attire however confused the mainly male room quite a lot and I was asked several times if I was now Muslim, the fact I am not even Christian is a pretty shocking admission here! But I was introduced, thanks to Mariam's Mum, to the former Prime Minister of Bangladesh and very likely next Prime Minister. I am mingling with the Bengali elite it would seem!

The other amusing thing about living in Dhaka is that its illegal for residents to drink and buy alcohol but again not for foreigners. Restaurants here even have signs on the menu saying locals will not be served. So if you want alcohol you either pay ridiculous prices in hotels, buy it from certain ex-pat shops, or do a dodgy deal with a friend of a friend that involves brown bags, dark alleys, and very shifty old bearded guys. And all you get after all that effort is very cheap over-priced whiskey that has a very suspiciously sounding Scottish name! All the cool kids therefore hang out in Shisha bars that look just like UK bars but close at 11pm and everyone is drinking Red Bull... Some of them are even marketed as 'juice bars' serving an array of fruit juice - can't see this concept of late night juice drinking catching on back home somehow. As ex-pats we are also able to take part in the Bi-Annual H & M clothing sale of faulty pieces from the Bangladeshi factories. Which means an absolute riot as everyone foreign in Dhaka turns out to fight for very cheap clothing: the shock of seeing so many non-bengalis in one places causes everyone in the room to have very unsubtle staring contests with one another as you fight for the good non-holey pieces.

I also decided, after the success of my 50p Bosnian fringe cut, to make use of the equally low beauty prices here (a personal favourite is the 3 pound facial) and get a 90p fringe cut. Huge mistake as I swear they just found this woman off the street as she had no clue what scissors even were and stood in front of me hacking off my hair until I was left with a very squint, very straight, and very short fringe. Responses to it so far have been:
'Oh'
'You had your fringe cut!'
And
'No HONESTLY I like it!'
An utter failure, I even grabbed the scissors of her in an attempt to fix the mess. Photos will not follow.

So now I am escaping Dhaka with 4 other interns for the bright lights of Bangkok where I have been promised a Topshop, Starbucks, McDonalds, and a plethora of Thai delicacies. For the boys this also involves the lure of the infamous Ping Ping Shows (google it if you have a strong disposition), lady boys, and strip shows. We have even watched the Hangover II for inspiration... Just getting away from Dhaka's traffic, pollution, and absolute mayhem will be something of a delight...

Returning to Dhaka and Ramadan...

After another week in rural Bangladesh this time in Dinajpur (google map it ;-)) meant the idea of Dhaka was something of an oasis. The BRAC facilities we were staying at in Dinajpur turned out to be something of an 'experience' (the word used here to mean somewhere I would never return to) with bugs a major issue. Now as a group we considered ourselves able to cope with anything but the bug situation here would challenge most; ants swarmed everywhere amongst half cock-roaches half frogs (froaches naturally), and bugs the size of your hand that I were not aware existed. Even entering the bathroom was an absolute mission while a sighting of a mouse in my room one day was the final straw for my mental state and resulting in screaming the place down and hiding until eventually someone killed it with a broom! Realising we were quite the opposite of hard core and incredibly high maintenance we had the fortunate luck of two girls gaining an AC room that we were told did not exist and also came with a bug free ensuite bathroom. While the Bengalis also staying braved through the bugs (I say this like it even bothered them) and seemed oblivious to rats, we all stayed holed up in the AC room watching TV and complaining (like the good foreigners we are). TV here is something of a cultural mix pot, you get HBO and WB showing a weird selection of Western movies; while Star Movies shows Western movies for Indian audiences (so certain words are omitted such as SHIT); then Arabic chat shows feature a guy in a David Letterman style studio but dressed up in a tea towel; while the only UK channel is BBC Entertainment that shows programmes that the BBC has pulled from the 'never show again pile'. My other impressive feat is that I have managed to eat street food from a Bengali market and not get sick, which is honestly worth praising here! Even a Bengali got sick from it, I realise I am jinxing things though...

Surviving street food and singing in the Monsoon rain..

When we did leave our AC luxury the area was very green and beautiful and we got to ride in a whole array of transport including a very packed public bus that drives suicidally and make shift carts that are basically a plank of wood with a scooter on the front. Very uncomfortable but a novelty factor! When we got to the field the projects were amazing though, we visited two schools with some of the most well behaved children I have ever seen. We taught them the macarena and sang Back Street Boys for the hundredth time (they all just looked very confused while their teacher despaired). It was when we got to the adolescent club though that we met some mad teenagers! The girls were so excited to see us that one of them basically jump hugged Shutong, the Chinese girl in our group, to our great amusement. While they all got their camera phones out to eagerly snap away at us as literally mobbing us. My hair was being stroked from all angles in curiosity while one girl took my earring out my ear to have a look before jabbing it back in my ear! We all agreed that we think this was the BRAC dating service as it was described to us a way for boys and girls to meet and socialise together. One of the interns with us was 15, he had family BRAC connection obv, so we tried to offer him up as a American offering to a bunch of giggling girls. His way of responding was by showing them all a dance called 'the hump' which started by him saying 'you hold your girl like this and...' we are all really hoping they didn't understand or we have mentally scarred a lot of Bangladeshi teenagers...

One of the schools we visited and a photo of a wee boy called Meem (he reminds me of Gus from Cinderella)!

So leaving the field was with mixed emotions as rural Bangladesh is lovely but does definitely take its toll, especially when sharing accommodation with half of its wildlife. Returning to Dhaka confirmed us as high maintenance, the first thing we all did was go to KFC (there is only one in Dhaka and its pretty swish) where eating non-Bengali stodgy food was amazing (despite it being crap stodgy American food) but the change was welcome. Next on our list was a trip to a beauty parlour where between us we had 2 facials, 2 back massages, 4 eyebrow waxing, a manicure, and a pedicure. Damn was it good. To finish up our welcome to civilisation pack we went to Coffee World then a trip to a Shisha place named MYNT (cool innit), as its illegal to drink here Shisha places are where its at it would seem...

The other exciting thing about being in Bangladesh right now is that its Ramadan, which is obviously a fairly big deal. So basically from the hours of 4.30am to 6.45pm (ish) you don't let anything pass your lips; water, food, coffee, cigarettes. Which in this heat is pretty tough. But from the hours 6.45pm to 4.30am they bloody well eat. At 3.30am you have Sehri which turns out to be an actual meal of everything from curry, bread, rice, dahl etc etc which everyone gets up for and then goes back to sleep after. Then at 6.45pm everyone sits down for snacks called Iftar, which are not snacks at all but a full buffet meal of the most amazing selection of curry, samosas, rice pudding stuff, rice crispy things, lentils, sweet desserts, and so much more. THEN they eat their actual meal at 11pm (ish).

I am currently living with one of the interns, Mariam, which is a dream come true as I get to stay in an actual apartment with a kitchen, air conditioning, and her driver. So I got to go round to her house for Iftar, therefore getting the best of both words, not fasting but still getting the enjoyment of breaking fast and sampling Bengali food! Which is amazing btw; because restaurants etc here are not serving lunch they are make Iftar 'snacks' for you to buy so a delicious spread is easy to get hold off... So last night I was able to go to her house and have amazing food when breaking fast and effectively I have my own adopted Bengali family! Since I had experienced Iftar it seemed logical to see then have Sehri, so with Mariam's family at 2.30am we travelled to visit her relatives for a middle of the night feast. A crazy concept, the nearest to this back home is having food after a night out. So in the middle of the night I had a full on curry, rice, dahl, mango extravaganza...

Since having Sehri I decided that it would make sense to actually fast one day, believe me after food at 4am you do not wake up that hungry and feeling a bit ill if anything. So today is my first (and most likely only) day of fasting... Currently I am only 9 hours in and wow is this tough...