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....

The first four days in Dhaka

DAY 1

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

DAY 4

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)!

Living it up at Casa Loca!