Don't Mind If I Kathmandu

This post is a bit late, but it has been a crazy few days.

After getting initially settled in to the Kathmandu Guest House (KGH), I decided to take a few days to just enjoy wandering around. To me, the traffic and pace of life in Kathmandu was relativity slow and relaxing. This is probably because Dhaka is so hectic. All the same, I found that aimlessly wandering the streets was a very enjoyable experience. There are so many shops and and cafes around every turn. After a night on the town, I liked to head over to the New Orleans Cafe for a hearty breakfast to start my day. The location of the KGH makes it difficult to get very far into the city. Directly outside was my favorite bar in town, Paddy Foley's Irish Pub. It was here that I met a few travel buddies. Night after night we would meet to enjoy a few drinks and the company of each other. Although being alone in a foreign country has its down side, it also has many pluses. I was forced out of my comfort zone, into making new friends. When you travel with friends or companions you might just as soon pass up the opportunity to meet new people. Paddy Foley's was a place for me to drink in not only the culture of Nepal but of that of many other countries via the friends I met there.

Although an Irish pub, I usually sat down there to enjoy a bottle of Gorkha, a Nepalese brew. Gorkha isn't a traditional brew, however. Part of the Carlsberg Group, Gorkha is preferred by tourist looking for a premium beer at a domestic price. 

After a few relaxing days, I decided it was time to get my tourist on. Not being much of a trekker, I decided to check out Swayambhunath, the monkey temple. One good thing about Kathmandu is the high number of English speakers. Only having a few days to explore, it was nice to be able to easily get around by speaking English. 

Located at one of the highest points in the valley, the monkey temple was a great place to see the city from. Statues of Hindu and Buddhist gods cover the landscape of the monument. Obviously one of the major aspects of the monkey temple is....monkeys!  

To be honest I was a bit frightened of the monkeys. They were rather large and aggressive (towards each other mostly, but I didn't want to be the next episode of When Vacations Attack). A few hours later I decided to head out towards Durbar Square.

The square is surround by beautiful architecture of Newar artists. Durbar Square is also the home of the old palace of Nepalese royalty. 

To gain access to they square you have to buy a ticket. I wasn't aware of this at the time and there is minimal signage to direct you to the ticket booth. After walking around for a few minutes I was pulled aside by an officer of some sort to check my ticket. After yelling at me for a few minutes he directed me to the ticket booth where I paid 750 rupees for access. To be honest I thought it was a bit steep. 750 rupees is around $9 USD. After spending hours going from shop to shop and enjoying the scenery I decided to head back to the guest house.

After spending a few days in the city I believe some people would say I wasted my time there by not going hiking or travelling to every possible temple on the map. For me, the experience of just being in Nepal and interacting with people I met was quite enough. I believe that sometimes travelers get bogged down in their list of objective for a trip and fail to actually pay attention to what they are doing. I met so many amazing people during my trip. It is these personal interactions that I will treasure for the rest of my days. After saying a few goodbyes it was back to Dhaka for two days before my flight back to the US. Until next time, good night my friends. 

Namaste and whatnot

This morning I left Dhaka behind. That meant leaving my home with Sabrina and Mr. Hu. I was sad to go but excited for Nepal. After saying our goodbyes, Mr. Hu brought me to the airport. After a few months here I was ready to handle the airport, Bangladeshi style. After finding my airline I promptly went to the front of the huge line and acted frustrated. I must have blacked out because shortly afterwards I was standing in front of my gate. Surprisingly the plane was on time. I was prepared for a 5 hour delay like some of my friends experienced on their way to Nepal, but thankfully we took off with no issues.

Less than two hours later we landed in Kathmandu. After a short cab ride I arrived at the Kathmandu Guest House.

The place is amazing. Located in the heart of Thamel, the Kathmandu Guest House is a perfect place to stay for a trip like mine. With plenty of shops and restaurants in the area, I'm sure there'll be no end to my exploration.

I'm currently sitting at a lounge overlooking the street just outside the guest house. Out of no where a band just set up and started playing. So I'll end this brief cell phone post and enjoy the show. Until next time, goodnight my friends.

Old Dhaka

The last few weeks have been very busy. I wrapped up my internship at BRAC and I was very sad to go. Over the last few months I have truly come to enjoy my time with BRAC. I have met some amazing people and shared so many great experiences. Near the end of the internship we were able to meet and speak with Sir. Fazle Hasan Abed, the founder and chairman of BRAC. 

Interns with the chairman

It was great to hear about the evolution of BRAC from a small, temporary development program into the world's largest NGO from the man who started it all. Sir. Fazle is truly an inspiration. 

By the time I finished my internship most of the other interns were already gone. My boss and co-workers got me a few items from BRAC Handmade Recycled Paper Products as a parting gift. I was sad to go, but very happy for the time I spent at BRAC. I was especially sad to leave my boss, Mehedi bhai. Over the course of my stay he developed from a boss, to a mentor, to a friend and I am eternally grateful for his advice and guidance.

My job ended with the start of a national holiday for Eid. From the 15th-22nd, most business are closed. Many families travel out of Dhaka to their home towns across Bangladesh. This sudden exodus left the city almost empty. I decided it would be a perfect time to get out and see a few things I have neglected to get to during my stay so far. 

Luckily, my friend from work, Zayn, was staying in town and offered to be my guide through Old Dhaka. He too was excited to visit a few places he hasn't been to in years. We agreed to meet up in Dhanmondi to start our adventure. A trip from Banani to Dhanmondi, which would normally take about 45 mins, took me around 15 minutes thanks to the reduced traffic from Eid. I meet with Zayn and we headed out to the old city center of Dhaka. 

We arrived in Puran Dhaka (Old Dhaka) to a scene of chaos. Throngs of Bangladeshis crowded the streets vying for position. With the rest of the city pretty much shut down I was surprised to see such a big crowd. Zayn informed me that we were near the offices where bus and boat tickets could be purchased to leave Dhaka. After negotiating our way through the streets we came upon our first stop for the day, Ahsan Manjil also known as the Pink Palace. Ahsan Manjil was constructed from 1859-1872 and was the official seat of the Dhaka Nawab Family (the political power at the time). While walking up to the gate it became apparent that there was some sort of altercation going on between a small crown of people and the security for the Palace. Apparently the grounds were closed for Eid, but that wasn't going to stop us from getting in. After some brief under the table negotiations, Zayn and I were let in (200 taka apparently gets you VIP access to historical sites).

On the steps at the Pink Palace

It turned our for the better that the grounds were closed because we were able to take pictures and look around without crowds of people. Since we bribed our way in we were only given a few minutes to explore and were not able to visit the museum located inside of the Palace. 

The beautiful grounds of the Pink Palace

The next stop on our adventure was to the Armenian Church in Armanitola. Built in 1781, the church stands as a symbol of a significant Armenian community in Dhaka in the 17th and 18th century. 

The grounds and church itself were quite lovely. If it weren't for the map we printed before we left, this gem would have remained hidden within the tightly packed streets and alleys of Old Dhaka. 

On our way to the next historical site I received a call from a man I had met earlier in the week. He stopped to speak with me about what I was doing here in Bangladesh. After a brief conversation we exchanged contact info and I really never expected to hear from him again. He was calling to see if I would like to go to the Bangladesh Television station to speak with him. Unsure what to do, Zayn and I agreed to meet him later in the week (I'll get to this later in another post). 

The next stop was Lalbagh Fort. Built in 1678 by the son of the Mughal Emperor Aurangzeb, this fort was the scene of a bloody battle during the first war of Independence from the British in 1857. Once again the grounds were closed, but the security guard mentioned that he would turn a blind eye towards our attempts to gain access. He pretty much suggested we find a wall to climb over and that he would let us out later. After employing several local boys to show us the best spots in to the fort, we were able to get a good look at the place from the Mosque on the grounds. 

The last stop on our journey was to the oldest Hindu temple in Bangladesh. The Dhakashwari (Goddess of Dhaka) Temple was constructed in the 12th century and is still used today for worship. 

While we were at the temple we got to see an artist sculpting statues for upcoming religious celebrations. The statues are decorated and set in boats with candles and offerings to be sent down the river. 

Even though we were not able to see a few of the places we had in mind, it was a wonderful day. Exusted and hungry, we set off for Dhanmondi for Iftar with Zayn and his family. We had a great meal and conversation. I was happy to learn that Zayn's father and two uncles went to school in Indiana at Purdue and Franklin College. It just goes to show you what a small world it really is. 

I hope to write a few more posts this week on some of the things I missed during my stay in Dhaka. I am getting excited for my trip to Nepal and can't wait to share my experiences. Until next time, good night my friends. 

Beer, it's what's for dinner tonight!

So it has been far too long since my last post. There are a number of reasons, but mostly just due to a mixture of being busy and lazy. Work has been interesting for the last few weeks. The PicGreen photo contest that I designed for the FaceBook page went over pretty well. We managed to get a solid number of entries and votes. With that wrapped up I found myself in a sort of assignment limbo. The thought was unsettling at first, until I was hurtled headlong into my next, rather daunting, assignment. This left me missing the simple pleasure of doing...well nothing really. After another week of working on this latest assignment, I thought I deserved a night out.

Music in the streets

We went to Arirang, a Korea BBQ restaurant located in Gulshan. The food was excellent as was the service. A burner located in the center of the table allowed the server to prepare our dinner right before us. After dinner, we decided to head to the Westin for some ice cream. There tends to be a theme in many of the outings that we go on; somehow we always end up getting sweets of one kind or another.

The Westin

It was here at the Westin, that I decided to indulge in a substance I had not let pass my lips in two months: beer. And let me tell you it was damn good. In retrospect, I decided that part of the reason I enjoyed it so much was also due to the fact that it was undoubtedly the coldest beverage I had tasted in Bangladesh. The quality of my experience was reflected in the price of the beer at 720 taka (around $8). After the Westin, Luke Carmen and Rachel decided they weren't in the mood to go out to the Dutch Club, so Mahira and I set out to try to find the place. I was under the impression that either her or the driver would have know where to go, but after about a half hour of searching we heard the distinct thumping of house music and knew we were in the right place.

The Dutch Club is one of a few expat clubs located in the city. The clubs routinely host parties that make up a large portion of the Dhaka city night life. Much like the bars in the U.S. there are always regulations to who gets in and who doesn't. I was a bit worried that there would be some issue getting in. A few people we met up with there informed me that I would have no problem because I am white. The blatant racism (against those who were forced to wait) left me feeling a bit put off, until later when I had more time to research the reasons. In Bangladesh drinking is permitted only if you have a foreign passport from a non-Muslim country. I guess my paleness is a good indication that I am a foreigner from a non-Muslim country. I got in, but still...that's profiling of the TSA caliber. The club was enjoyable. I had a few beers and met some interesting people. Around 1 I decided to call it a night and head back home. Thankfully I had already arranged for a taxi to pick me up. Wandering the streets of Dhaka at night is not the best idea, especially while slightly inebriated.

I really wanted to ask if they would take me home

The next two days were not very eventful. I checked out a few places in town and got a new cell phone, but nothing noteworthy happened. When I went back to work on Sunday, I started to feel a bit odd. I was tired. Not the normal tired associated with traveling the hectic streets. This was a deep weariness that I couldn't quite place. It was late in the afternoon that I started thinking I might be getting sick. The next morning confirmed my fears when I woke gasping for breath. I was severely congested and had a sore throat. After beginning my morning routine, I realized this was not something I would be able to shake off. The next few days were a blur. It was the type of sickness that makes it seem like you will feel that way for the rest of your life. If it weren't for Sabrina and Mr. Hu I believe I wouldn't be here writing this post...okay that is pushing it a bit far, but you know, dramatic effect and all. Sabrina made me tea from the root of the indigo woad plant.  Mr. Hu also gave me a small vial of white orchid oil meant to sooth my headaches. I was surprised by how effective it was, but happy for it.

Sunshine over the slums

At this point in my trip I find myself longing for home. Not only because I miss my friends and family, but also because the trials and tribulations of living here are starting to wear on me. I realize that returning to the states won't let me escape this mortal coil, but I am willing to bet the daily frustrations I face in Indiana are far more manageable than the ones I encounter here. Such is life. I only hope that through this experience I have gained some perspective. "Let us strive to improve ourselves, for we cannot remain stationary; one either progresses or retrogrades." - Mme. Du Deffand. Until next time, good night my friends. 

Darkness in Dhaka

I had a rather strange weekend. On Friday I slept in a bit, not moving until almost noon. This unfortunately left me groggy well into the day. After a quick bite, I decided it would be a good day for a walk. I was feeling a bit stuffy being inside for so long. I headed out down Road 4 towards the market. The scene was hectic, but failed to panic me like it had early on. In Dhaka, you have to learn to keep up or you'll never get anywhere.

The cars move fast, while many of the people move slow. For me, the people have been the more difficult part to navigate through. I am fine with waiting to half-run across the street, dodging cars and rickshaws. The part that bothers me the most is the meanderers (despite what my spell check says, that is a real usage). I just don't understand. I feel like the sidewalk should work similar to that of the street. One side going one way, and the other, the opposite. Yet, everyday I have to stop my self from careening into any number of people aimlessly wandering back and forth on the sidewalk. I mean if they are walking they should probably have at least some minuscule semblance of a direction they want to head, right? No. These folks are content with a snail's pace mixed with the navigational skill akin to a zombie. Imagine crowds of the not-really undead Bangladeshi's, shuffling their way back and forth through the streets, stopping only to satiate their ravenous hunger by sinking their teeth into the fresh, juicy flesh of......a mango! (Note to self: begin development of a zombie book set in South East Asia)

Excerpt from the upcoming novella: Darkness in Dhaka


Adam had never been to a place so new and exciting before. Dhaka was different from any city he had even seen. The streets where filled with people, making their way from place to place. Having recently arrived to begin an internship in the capital of Bangladesh, he was anxious to explore his new surroundings. As he made his way towards the city center, a feeling of unease swept through him. Trying to ignore his discomfort, Adam continued down the street, bumping in to several people along his way. 
"Oh, I'm sorry" He said to no avail. A grunt accompanied with a maniacal stare was the only response he could garner. 
Tightening the strap on his bag, Adam clutched the satchel trying to quiet his nerves. There was something not right about the look in the man's eye. It was as if he were looking though Adam and not at him. The whites of his eyes were also rather unsettling, stained a deep yellow with vibrant streaks of red, forming a web from side to side.


Pondering the though, Adam was struck with terror as he quickly spun around to take in his surroundings. Large groups, moving haphazardly from side to side, with no general direction? Shuffling and bumping in to each other? Strange guttural  noises and facial contortion? Adam had seen these behaviors before. He had studied them. While watching endless movie marathons and reading several books on the subject may not truthfully qualify as "study",  Adam knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that these characteristics showed Dhaka city had been taken over...by zombies. 
_________________________________________________________________________________


A word from the author:
Dedicated to by best friend and brother, Brian. 


As an independent publishers, I do not have a team of experts to edit my work and promote it for me. Being a writer is a passion not my profession. That being said, please be patient while I finish Darkness in Dhaka. There are just a few minor obstacles I have to face before the book can move on. The first being a major decision that will change the outcome of the series. The second being that this is not a real book and is never going to be written.Thanks for all you support!

_


As the ridiculous book, and subsequent film ideas bounced around in my head, I lost track of time. I found myself in Gulshan 1, very far from my apartment. After grabbing a bottle of water at a nearby corner store, I continued my stroll, but headed back towards Banani. After about 45 mins I finally made it back. Sabrina and Mr. Hu were just inside, trying to beat the heat with the fan going on full blast. As I reached down to remove my shoes, my sunglasses and keys fell perfectly on top of another shoe. The result was a little shoe-dude with sunglasses on and a smile formed by the lanyard on my keys. The face was so strangely perfect that I thought I needed to share. I couldn't take a picture because my room was locked with my phone/camera in it. I felt it would be dishonest to replicate the results and try to pass it off. That's how much I care about my readers...

Today was also a little strange. I went down the street to grab a bite at Dhaba. Dhaba serves quick and easy Indian food. Many of the items are foods you would general see at a street vendor, but in the comfort of a cafe setting. I like going to Dhaba because there are always a lot of students there eating or just visiting with friends. The last few times I went I found a few friends. This time was no different. After sitting down, a group across the room waved me over. Luckily they all spoke decent English. The few names I remember were Zahir, Arif, Trina and Sadia (spelling?). They were all university students coming back from a study session. All of them seemed to be management students, what they were managing I never could quite tell, but I would imagine they were referring to business management of some form. I told them where I was from, and what I was doing here. They were all very interested in IU and the differences in our classes. After finishing our kebabs and naan, we said our goodbyes and I headed home.

Rounding the corner back to Road 4, I still had about 5 blocks to go. A man pulled up next to me riding a bicycle cart loaded with purified water for deliveries. He looked at me several times before saying something close enough to "Sabrina's home" and pointed forward. Recognizing him as our water delivery man I nodded and he signaled for me to get on the cart. For the remaining few blocks I road in the back of a water cart down the street, my companion and I enjoying two of the bananas I picked up on the way back. When we got back I offered to help bring some of the water up to the apartment but he declined, shooing my off towards the door. I made my way up to my room where I sit now, writing this entry.
It was a strange weekend. Until next time, goodnight my friends.  

Fear and Loathing in Dhaka

Fear:

So I made it through my first month in Bangladesh. Despite the daily trials and tribulations, I managed to come out relatively unscathed. Life in Dhaka can be hard, as Jim, one of the other tenants of Sabrina’s Home, found out this weekend. While returning from work on Thursday night, Jim was accosted and robbed. It was dark. He was riding in a covered cng (or baby taxi as Sabrina calls them). After a long day monitoring one of his company’s production facilities, Jim just wanted to check his email on his iPhone. A thud sounded from the back of the cab. The rough terrain of the Dhaka streets makes this a relatively common occurrence, so Jim paid no mind. Suddenly, there was a tear in the canvas roof. A small hand reached into the cab and began to struggle with Jim over the iPhone. In seconds, the thief was gone back into the night. The cng driver whipped the car around in hopes to make chase. Unfortunately, the crooked roads and densely populated streets made a pursuit difficult, nay, impossible. Jim returned home defeated. During my weeks here, I have gotten increasingly comfortable with travelling the city. This event, so close to home, reminded me of the dangers of Dhaka.

Loathing:

It is monsoon season. The rains have started and, I fear, will not stop. What began as a bi-weekly drizzle, has turned into a daily torrent. I find myself mentally preparing for the worst case scenario every time I leave the house. My messenger bag (or European carry-all, you decide) contains all of my work and entertainment materials, most of which are electronic. Needless to say, getting caught in a storm on the way to work could have dire consequences.  I thought that the heat was the most exhausting part of travel here, but the rains would have to be my choice now. I’ve grown to despise the downpours. Thus far, I have had luck avoiding the worst of it. I only hope that as the summer goes on I can continue to do so.

Dhaka:

This place is unlike anywhere I have been before. The sights and sounds of the city never stop (+1 for alliteration). There is construction on every corner. Buildings go up while others come down. The streets pulse with rickshaws, the life blood of Dhaka. Merchants peddle their wares from shop to shop. Despite my fear and loathing, there is one thing, above all else, that Dhaka makes me feel: Alive.

Until next time, good night my friends. 

Everyone's office is someone else's field

Another busy week in Dhaka has come and gone. I can hardly believe it has only been three weeks since I got here. I was happy to find out that the new summer interns would be starting at the beginning of the week. Prior to this I only worked with one other intern. There are somewhere around fifteen of us now. I also found out that I have a slightly different set-up than the other interns. Along with our group intern assignments I have other assignments in the Enterprises department. I know that one of the others is in a similar situation but I don't know about the rest. Everyone in the group is very nice and very smart. I hope that we will get a chance to work on some projects together before they leave. Another difference in our programs is that they will be staying for 8 weeks, so I will be here a bit longer.

During the middle of the week we went out into the field to see some of the Brac enterprises in action. It seems like everyone's office is in someone else's field these days. We headed about an hour and a half outside of Dhaka to a district called Gazipur. It was nice to get out of the city. It was so quiet without thousands of cars honking all day. The first stop was to witness a community empowerment meeting. At these meetings, the women of a town get together to discuss current issues, health concerns and general practices of the village. This meeting focused on clean habits for food preparation.

Community Empowerment group giving their opening pledge

A quick Q&A told us that the group really enjoys meeting and the community has improved since they started getting together two years ago. Although I've seen Brac products and advertisements all over the city, this was my first experience up close and personal with Brac in the field. 

Our next stop was at a Brac seed facility. This factory complex is responsible for a large portion of the nursery products as well as some of the livestock feed production. Seeds are brought to the facility then planted to grow and be sold or shipped to other Brac locations. Despite the factory-like qualities of the facility, there was still beauty to be found all around the site. 

Seeds being spread to dry

After the seed mill, we were on the road heading to grab lunch at a a Brac hotel. I was very impressed by the location. We were allowed access to a few of the rooms to rest and wash up before lunch. The hotel grounds were beautiful. Green grass and fountains permeated the surrounding area. Lunch was a buffet of Bangladeshi specialties as well as a few West Bengal dishes.

View from the rooms

After lunch we headed out to the Brac dairy facility. Unfortunately we were unable to take photos of the facility. Don't worry though it was about what my imagination figured a dairy factory to look like. At the end of the tour we were given a sample of some of the chocolate milk. I've never been a huge fan of milk because, for me to enjoy it, it has to be freezing cold. I was pretty surprised by how good the Brac milk was. That sounds a bit odd, but it's kinda one of those things you had to be there for. 

We headed back into the city around 4 pm. The traffic had gotten bad but we still managed to get back before 6. It was a long, hot day, but I really enjoyed getting to see first had some of the Brac facilities. I hope later in the summer we will get to go on other trips. This upcoming week looks to be a busy one, so until next time my friends. 

p.s. I know the blog says a look into the food and culture of Bangladesh. Don't worry. I have been saving up a few of my favorites for an exclusive food post. 

No rest for the weary

I find that I wake every day more tired than the last. I am afraid I might have caught something, but I know that is a convenient excuses for my laziness. It has been several days since my last post, so I begrudgingly pulled out my computer to document the weekends events. On Thursday, I finally got sick for the first time. Surprisingly enough it was not from food. Myself, along with a few of my colleagues, went to the Tree Fair to check out Brac's booth. About halfway through our exploration of the various merchants and farmers displays, I began to feel dazed and rather light headed. I would image the mixture of sweltering heat and lack of sustenance that morning led to my predicament. Thinking quickly, I began chugging the bottle of water I brought along. Lets just say it ended badly. After returning to the office and regaining my composure, I was whisked away back to my home by a Brac driver (a welcome luxury considering my non-air-conditioned alternatives). Despite my heat-exhausted state, I did manage to snap a few good ones.

BRAC's booth at the Tree Fair

Needless to say, Thursday night I took it easy. The next morning, Sabrina and I headed to the American Club for service with the Dhaka International Christian Church. The small gathering room was packed to the brim. Last week, the minister, who had been giving the services for the past few years, move back to the states. This left the organization a bit understaffed. What previously had been two services, was condensed into one at 10 am. It was enjoyable to see (and mostly hear) all the the expats at the club. The sermon was a bit lengthy, but carried a relatively positive message. For fear of offending anyone I wont get into the details, but lets just say it was bit presumptuous.

Close enough

When we got back, Bao (formerly referred to as "Bob" but we're friends now) was ready to head out to do some shopping. He had rented a driver for the day to take us to a few places around town. That may sound like overkill but the driver charged around $5 an hour and was completely necessary for the amount of traffic out that day.

Our first stop was the grocery store to get some tea and a few other things for around the house. We then headed to Aarong. I believe I may have briefly touched on it before, but Aarong is one of the social enterprises Brac is responsible for. It is a retail store carrying clothes, linens, shoes, decorations and all sorts of knick-knacks and whatnots.

Bao (right) and I (left) at Aarong

I purchased a traditional shirt (had to get one), a wallet (Aarong leather is very nice) and a handmade gamari wood box with nakshi top (to store my own knick-knacks and whatnots...still in the process of acquiring them, however). Nakshi is a style of carving or embroidering found in Bangladesh. In total, I spend around $20 for the lot. Bao bought several things for family members and friends, including a rather expensive (relatively speaking) set of sheets for about $40. After Aarong, we went down the street to Artisan, a "wester-style" clothing store. There wasn't much I was too keen on here. I shuddered as I passed the Hollister and Abercrombie section (when will middle-school stop coming back to haunt me). Even after being out for a few hours, we were all pretty tired. Upon returning home, I took a well-deserved nap, followed by a well-deserved dinner at a cafe down the block.

Curry chicken with garlic naan 

I woke up Saturday morning with nothing to do. I was still feeling odd from my near heat stroke (a bit dramatic, but you're not in Bangladesh, are you). After breakfast, Sabrina asked me if I would like to join her at a show later that evening. She informed me that her membership in a Chinese association in Bangladesh allowed her two free tickets to the performance (tickets that I later found out would have been around $30-$40, pricey for much of anything here). Mr. Hu seemed very disinterested in the idea, so I happily accepted.

Invitation to the show

Before we left, it started raining. We had planned on Mr. Hu just dropping us off, and finding our own way home. The rain makes getting anywhere quite a hassle, so Mr. Hu decided to join us at the show. I was very surprised to find out what it actually was. The group was called Chinese Disabled People's Performing Art Troupe. I had heard of them before but had no idea what to expect.

A deaf ballerina 

The performance was wonderful. The show was composed of various music and dancing acts. All of the performers were disabled in some way and it was fascinating to see the precision and expertise shown in their work. I was most impressed with a pair of dancers that performed near the middle of the show. The man was blind and the girl deaf. Together they shared queues to signal the other. It was a bit difficult at first, but slowly I began seeing him share the audio queues, while she guided him gracefully throughout the stage.

Sabrina and Mr. Hu walking off into the sunset

After the show, we headed home. As we worked our way through traffic, I thought of what a strange and unique experience I was having in Bangladesh. I was surrounded on the outside with the culture of Bangladesh, bombarding me everyday with new experiences. While at home, I got a taste of Chinese culture through my surrogate family, Sabrina and Mr. Hu. Only two weeks into my trip here I have seen and done things I never thought I would. It feels as if I have been here for months already. With so much that has happened in my short time here, I marvel at the thought of what's to come. Until next time, good night my friends.

Rickshaws, a great cause and a little thing called lychee

The last two days have been busy. Yesterday I started to get a better handle on my assignments for the time I am here. After a week of attempting to take all of BRAC enterprises in, I finally have enough information to get going (although I still have a lot to learn). Along with many small assignments throughout the course of my stay, my overall purpose will be to establish a solid social media platform for BRAC enterprises to build upon. Although previous to my arrival there was a bar-bones structure, composed of a few sparsely populated Facebook pages, there was still much and more to be desired. With this knowledge I headed out to chase down a rickshaw and head to work.

BRAC Enterprises currently has three Facebook pages, one for each BRAC Solar, BRAC Kanon and BRAC Chicken (yes they are links, you should go "Like" our pages).The Solar division is responsible for some great products that help power thousands of homes in rural Bangladesh, and is quickly moving into more metropolitan areas. BRAC Chicken produces and distributes healthy affordable chicken all across Bangladesh, offering home delivery as well (D-Town Menus? (IU inside joke "B-Town" menus delivery)). Today I got to see what BRAC Kanon was all about, and I was impressed.

BRAC Kanon

BRAC Kanon is a multi-enterprise initiative aimed at providing the means for discerning Bangladeshi citizens to go green. BRAC Nursery is the enterprise most on display, because the property is absolutely packed with all sorts of different plants. BRAC has come up with dozens of ways to increase and speed up fruit yield, as well as developing several hybrid plant varieties for decoration. One such tree produced a curious fruit called the lychee. 

Lychee

The edible part of the fruit is a glossy, opaque white flesh underneath a tough rind. The taste is fragrant, almost like eating a sweet perfume. Immediately after biting into it, I identified the taste as being a component to some flavored liquor I consumed at one point or another at IU. I rather enjoyed the flavor, but the texture was not exactly to my liking. I would put it somewhere between a mandarin orange and a grape. Squishy, a bit slimy and all to soft for my enjoyment. Nonetheless I ate a bout a half dozen of them, until I could peel no more.

A BRAC Nursery Product

BRAC Sericulture is also on display, offering four different varieties of silks in hundreds of patters. Sericulure is composed of several parts including the cultivation of silkworms and mulberries to feed them, as well as weaving and and spinning instruction. BRAC silk products are some of the finest I have seen in Bangladesh.

Housed in another of the repurposed shipping containers next door (how green of them) is BRAC Recycled Handmade Paper. 

Recycled Paper Business Card Holder

These well-crafted gift bags and cards are beautifully designed, and environmentally sound. Each card and bag is hand made, giving it a personal touch that really stands out. Wrapping paper is also available, made with recycled paper and silk. 

BRAC Kanon Grounds

The entire facility is powered by BRAC Solar panels attached to the roof (see above). The aesthetic quality, as well as the sustainability of the facility and its parent enterprises, is truly inspiring. 

Feeling reinvigorated from the trip, Mr. Mehedi and I headed back to the office to get to work (negotiating with at least 3 rickshaw drivers before agreeing on a price, Mehedi bhai is much better at talking them down). In the last two days, I have done a decent amount of work, simply organizing the materials needed to flesh-out our media strategy. Today I was able to being seeing results as our Facebook "Likes" steadily grew (do I need to give another hint, see links above). 

After a long day today, I left BRAC to scan the streets for a solid ride home. In the last few days I have honed my skill at picking a good rickshaw. There is a science to it, no an art really. The younger divers tend to speak more English, a good quality when you have know idea where you're going. The older drivers tend to take the best routes. This creates a need to be careful in choosing. Depending on the time of day you could find yourself on a 45 min ride with a young English speaking driver, sitting in traffic. While with an older driver, you may get to your destination using side streets and short cuts in a matter of minutes, but that destination may not be the one you had in mind.

The rickshaws are the life-blood of this growing city. The ebb and flow of the streets can almost make it seem like there are traffic signals (there aren't). Bicycle bells chime at all hours, signaling one thing or another. There is an interesting language of sorts composed of hand signals, bells and Bengali words I don't understand. Together they somehow form a working set of rules to the road. One thing to note if you are ever in Bangladesh: pedestrians do NOT have the right of way. Until tomorrow, good night my friends. 

  

Crabs (Get your mind out of the gutter)

I am exhausted from a great weekend. Not that I really did that much, but in this heat and humidity even the shortest trips down the street can feel like a trek across a sweltering desert. The weekend here consists of Friday and Saturday (leaving the work week as Sunday-Thursday). Friday is a religious day for devout Muslims, hence the day off. In the early 2000s, the Bangladeshi government made Friday and Saturday the official weekend and changed the work week office hours to 9am-5pm (extended an hour from 4pm). This was in an effort to reduce pressure on the economy from increased oil prices. So after work on Thursday I went home happy to have a few days to do some exploring. Mr. Hu prepared some freshly caught crab that night for dinner.

Crabs-not realizing the futility of their efforts

As Mr. Hu prepared dinner, I noticed the other tenants beginning to gather around the kitchen table, anxiously awaiting dinner. Now I have had crab many times before, but never this type of crab, or whole for that matter. When dinner was finally ready, Mr. Hu showed me how to crack the shell open. Despite my best efforts, my crab shared very little in common with the nice clean break Mt. Hu had formed on his; but, it was delicious all the same.

They were spicy

Slathered (one of my mom's most hated words) in buttery goodness, the meal was right up my ally. After picking my way through the first, I was on to another. When cracked open, this one revealed tiny orange orbs, which I quickly ate (to enjoy their savory goodness before my mind had the time to tell itself that these delights were crab roe). Noodles and soup topped off the meal leaving me (and the rest of my companions) in a warm and happy stupor.

I was asleep early Thursday and up early Friday. Sabrina participates in church service every Friday morning with a group called DICC (Dhaka International Christian Church...yes really). She invited me to come a long and meet a few people in her group. The services are held at the American Club in Gulshan-2 (the district to the east of Banani where I live). The American Club is a private club for American expats. It is located in a large walled off block in Gulshan. As we approached I noticed a high volume of guards and barbed wire. The structure itself stood 15 menacing feet high, topped in savage looking defenses of wire and glass shards. What was I getting myself into? Was this some sort of military base? When we entered the front guard house, my belongings were searched and I was ushered through a metal detector. Then I signed in to gain entrance through a barred security door. Things were not looking good....but then...

The American Club

...and oasis. The park-like interior of the club was packed with people, white people, white people who spoke English! Don't get me wrong, not having to talk to anyone for the past week has been great, but holding a conversation including slang and western references was wonderful. I didn't have to repeat myself or stare unknowingly as someone spoke to me. There were people from all over the states and the U.K. And then I saw something that almost made a tear fall down my cheek: an 8 foot tall poster of a frosty cold beer. Being that we were at a church meeting (and not a Catholic one for that matter) I thought better than to sit down for a brew before the service, despite my burning desire to do so.

The American Club

The service was nice. We did some singing and some praying, but what I was most happy with was the sermon. The pastor of the church was leaving the country that night so one of the men from the congregation gave the sermon. He was British (with a Richard Hammond, West Midlands kind of accent). The talk was poignant, with a message that hit home. He spoke of transitions. We all go through them at one point or another and must adapt to the change, by accepting our lack of control. I felt very relieved sitting a room full of people in the same situation as me. We all were experiencing new things and trying our hardest to keep up.  After church it began to rain, so we headed back to Sabrina's for a lazy afternoon. 

This morning I woke up and decided to head in to Gulshan again to see what was around. I took a cng right into the heart of the district and began to walk. I came upon a small boutique called Artisan. Sabrina had told me that Artisan was a good place to get dress shirts and western style clothing. I went in to have a look around and she was pretty accurate. The store smelled like cologne and there was dub step blasting in the background. The clothes, however, were a bit to flashy for my tastes. I bought a belt and decided I would check out Aarong (a fair trade clothing store operated by BRAC) on another day. 

Gulshan-2

Gulshan is a very nice part of Dhaka city. Lots of business mean lots of people. Around noon the streets were at a standstill, but the horns were not. The cars, bikes and cngs slammed their horns to get in front of each other, only causing more horns to join the cacophony. As I walked down the street I felt a smile creep across my mouth before I even had time to realize what I was looking at. 

A&W Root Beer

That's right ladies and gents an A&W root beer. What have I been doing all week!?! I had other lunch ideas so I decided to take a rain check on burgers and fries. On my way back to Sabrina's I stopped at Dhaba cafe, a quaint little roadside hangout. It was full of people my age, hanging out having a coke and a bite to eat. I ordered the chicken kebab with garlic naan. The food was wonderful in the sense that it was simple,well done and really hit the spot. I knew I'd be coming back to this place.

Dhaba for a kebab

I came home to rest a bit. It was nearly 100 degrees F today. I was dirty and tired. After a short nap and shower, Mr. Hu woke me up for a delightful dinner. It was tuna, rice and chicken masala. So far on my trip I have had a lot of wonderful things to eat, none of them intricately designed or slaved over for hours, just simple fresh ingredients handled with care by a practiced hand. Mr. Hu is the master of his kitchen and all that is in it. It seems to come down to that: a chef who is comfortable in his kitchen will make great food. It is my hope that through my observations (and some practice) I can learn to be a bit more comfortable in my kitchen.

Existentialism on a work day

I had a great day today. I woke up around 6 am for work at 8:30 (I can thank my father for my impeccable, yet sometimes irrational need to be on time). Every day I am getting better and better at navigating the busy streets to find a ride to work. When I arrived at 8 (see my previous aside), the office was just coming to life. Yesterday Mr. Mehedi had told me that I needed to familiarize myself with the various enterprises and begin looking for ways to better the information on the Brac website. After a few hours of reading up, Mr. Mehedi beckoned me to follow him. We were heading across the street to another large building that houses a second enterprise office. I met with the managers of many of the programs. We headed back and I continued looking into improvements to be made. Around 1:30, hunger pangs wrestled me from my desk to search out sustenance. I learned that I had missed the boat on buying the subsidized cafeteria meal tickets (sold in the early morning for 30 taka or about 40 cents). I was informed that there was an alternative, but much more expensive, restaurant at Brac that I could visit. Upon heading to the 4^th floor, I found the cafeteria bustling with Brac employees grabbing a bite before heading back to work. Across from the cafeteria, a well-dressed man stood opening a door for guests to enter. I correctly surmised that this must be the restaurant in question. I was seated at a table, set for formal dining.

Restaurant at Brac

 As I was handed a menu I braced myself for the hit my wallet would be taking. After scanning the options, I was elated to find that while much more expensive than the cafeteria, I would only be set back about $6 USD. I ordered the steak with French fires and steamed vegetables. While steak and potatoes are hardly outside of regular to me, there was a Bengali flare of spices added to the mix. An interesting cultural note here is that meat is far less common here than in the states. For religious as well as economic reasons, many meals may contain no meat at all (accidental alliteration, huh there I go again); so the hunk of beef before me was a welcome sight.

After lunch I headed back up to the 6^th floor to continue my work. Mr. Mehedi came looking for me shortly thereafter. I had a meeting to attend. It was a presentation from a media advertising group located in Dhaka and focused on local Bangladeshi businesses (supposedly the only one of its kind, the validity of which I cannot speak to). The meeting was a presentation for the advertising services the group has to offer. After a 10-15 min slide show (accompanied by tea, of course) we said our thank yous and ushered the two gentlemen out. 

Tea Time

Mr. Mehedi and I had a brief discussion afterwards and came to the same conclusion that the options available, while explained as excellent solutions by the two presenters, offered little that Brac could not accomplish on its own (I have learned that nothing is a pressing as the one who’s pressing would like you to believe). It made me very happy that my opinion on the matter was considered at all. I’m starting to realize that I did, in fact, learn quite a lot at Indiana University that I have taken for granted as knowledge I expect everyone knows (proven not true by my brother who was utterly confused by the topics).

A slum I pass everyday

Around 4:50 I was approached again my Mr. Mehedi to outline the tasks on the agenda for tomorrow. I found our discussion of branding and operations gently transforming into a rather existential discussion of family, friends and what it means to be “home”. He related to me his experiences abroad; his denial of an offer to work in the U.K. at a position that would leave him quite alone, traveling from place to place and never really establishing himself. Instead he chose to go a different route and travel to Pakistan, a country not highly advertised for its creature comforts. He explained his choice as one of learning and self-growth, not unlike the adventure I find myself currently on. While there, he found that while we may come from different places and experience different things, there are certain truths that come along with being human. As he spoke the familiar words of our forefathers echoed in my head mixed with those of my new boss and developing mentor: We hold these truths to be self-evident that, while not all men are given equal opportunity, we most certainly are all created as equals, to share in the global community of humanity, that stretches from East to West and spans throughout time. And while many experience more of the negative side of this humanity, from the plight poverty and hunger to the despair of depression and oppression, we all are born, grow up and strive for something better before returning from whence we came, a little taste of that most elusive and sometimes fleeting emotion: happiness. Until tomorrow, good night my friends.