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. 
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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.