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.