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...
Showing posts with label internship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label internship. Show all posts
Thursday, 11 August 2011
Friday, 22 July 2011
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!
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!
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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