My top 10 lists

Top ten things I WILL miss about Bangladesh:
1. My friends at Grameen- the posse, some who have gone already and some who will be there for awhile still. Miss you guys! We sure have survived some interesting experiences together!
2. The home cooking- my favorite Bangla food was the food made by the love of a Bangladeshi mom!
3. The cheap stuff- all kinds of stuff, clothes, food, shoes, little knick knacks
4. Taking photos with Professor Yunus! He is my favorite old man, except for my grandpa of course!
5. The beauty of the country that lies outside of Dhaka- in Srimongol, and Cox's Bazaar
6. The Ispahani milk tea! I wonder how long my 100 tea bags will last me.
7. The Nocilla, coconut crackers, and Mango juice that were a staple of my diet.
8. The very nice Bangladeshis I met along the way- Sigma, Nuheen, Rashed, and Milton.
9. How we did everything we weren't supposed to do, and still survived to tell everyone about it.
10. The free wi-fi at the airport!

Top ten things I will NOT miss about Bangladesh:
1. The inevitable traffic jams and horrible pollution and the layer of black film on my face and my clothes from being in a CNG for 1.5 hours trying to go 8 km.
2. The dirtiness of the streets, the trash that is everywhere, and the random smells of the toilet in the air.
3. The people staring at me in an impolite and uncomfortable way and not responding when I smile or wave back.
4. The rickshaw and CNG drivers always trying to cheat me and getting mad at me when I actually pay them the rate we agreeed upon.
5. The Grand Prince Hotel, the shady manager at the front desk, and the cancer causing bug spray used on my mattress and pillows to kill bed bugs
6. The Bed bugs, cockroaches, spiders, and mosquitoes
7. Jannat-E-Quanine and Mr. Babor Ali, my two least favorite employees of the International Dept at Grameen Bank
8. The electicity outages at the most inconvenient times (like right before a World Cup game or while I am in the elevator)
9. The ridiculously inefficient immigration officers at the airport that take 30 minutes per foreigner
10. The fact that women had to cover themselves up while the men could run around wearing whatever they wanted to.

Out of Grand Prince, into the Peace and Quiet

While my friend Ben is in the village enjoying the monster cockroaches and electricity outages, I moved to the ex-pat area today. It is so peaceful here, I can barely tell I am in Dhaka. I actually have a real bed, with a real mattress, and a real shower!! I had gotten used to sleeping on the hard, plastic mattresses at the Grand Prince that smelled like chemical bug spray. It's amazing how different my life could have been just 12 km (but 1-1.5 hour trip) away.



While I do enjoy the peace and quiet, I still can't go out at night by myself. It may be more dangerous for me to be out here by myself at night because it's so quiet. While in Mirpur there are too many people around, there are too few people outside in Banani. If something happened to me, no one would see and no one would know. So, I think I'll wait for Ben to come back from the village to go out at night and enjoy the area. This is why it's nice to have a driver.. dang it. I should have put driver costs into my ICF application. I wonder if Julie would have approved it. haha.



Last night, Ben and I had an interesting adventure trying to find a place with Korean bbq, soju, and beer. He didn't believe me when I told him how chaotic Dhaka was until our long, painful, and frustrating CNG ride last night. I don't think anyone actually understands what the city is like until they actually come here and get to experience it. And then it won't seem like I am complaining excessively :)



Ironically, I do kind of miss the hustle and bustle of Mirpur-1 and of being able to see all the interns just hanging around the hotel. Here I am a world away. I took a rickshaw by huge mansions and gated estates while i was on my way to the market to buy a new luggage. This is where all the money is in Dhaka. I saw a few Land Rovers and Lexuses maneuvering around the bumpy dirt roads. Hella Ballas! Maybe this is me discriminating against the rich, but a part of me suspects that many of the people in this area may be corrupt, and by hoarding money for themselves, are perpetuating the poverty of the millions of Bangladeshis that I spent the last eight weeks trying to help.

Frustration, frustration, frustration

Yes, this is what I felt like last night. Get the point?

I think the Bangladeshi government should post this sign at the airport as you are exiting customs into the chaos of Dhaka:

I spent the last 30 minutes looking for a good photo to represent what I went through last night. There are a lot of really funny pictures on the web when you type in "frustration". I thought visuals would be a good way to start my story.

My transportation fiasco last night reminded me of why I will not miss Dhaka when I leave. Trying to get to New Market last night to get some flea market shopping done, it took us 1.5 hours in an open air CNG (those little golf cart like things I mentioned before), to get there, and it was pouring out, so my beautiful white pants got soaking wet. Granted, I know the same 12km ride on highway from LAX to UCLA takes the same amount of time, but at least generally you are in a nice comfortable, air conditioned car. That makes the traffic a little more bearable. But the open air CNG made the mix of car fumes, trash, and rain, or the more unbearable last night.

Then, when we were leaving New Market we first, got harassed by a group of beggar kids who were rudely aggressive and touching me and slapping me on the arm to get my attention. I generally always give money to beggar kids, like 2 or 5 taka, but I really don't like it when they touch me. Being stressed out from not finding an open CNG for about 20 minutes in bumper to bumper traffic, I was not in any mood for kids to be hounding me for money. We kept on walking to different corners of the intersection to try to a) lose the kids and b) find a CNG. Sweaty and annoyed, Abra and I were getting VERY frustrated.

This nicely dressed man with very good English decided to take us under his wings because he saw us walking from corner to corner and still not having any luck. Anyways, long story short, he spent the next hour with us trying to find a CNG, then we took a rickshaw (three people in a rickshaw doesn't make for a comfortable ride) where my left leg was sticking out, dangerously exposed to getting scraped by an oncoming vehicle, for 30 minutes, and then finally, after the people we were supposed to meet for dinner had already finished their meal, we arrived at our location.

Then, after we finished, it took us another hour waiting in a hotel lobby for a taxi that the hotel called for us to show up even though they kept on saying "20 minutes, no problem, 20 minutes". I have come to realize that nothing in Dhaka takes 20 minutes.

My happiness from eating my great meal at dhaba wore off about 30 minutes into the wait. I was so happy when I finally got home (I can't believe I am actually calling the Grand Prince Hotel my home) last night, but even happier that I finally knocked some sense into myself and am moving to the Pacific Inn Hotel in the more convenient (to eatable places), cleaner, a little bit less crazy ex-pat area in Banani next week.

Sorry for the ranting. On another note, I love my white linen pants, but they were a stupid choice to bring to Dhaka. Everytime I get them cleaned, the next day I wear them, they have dirt splatter marks all over the back side and I need to get them cleaned again. sigh, so frustrating!

Happy news: My friend Ben is coming to visit from Hong Kong, and I'm really excited about it. It will be good to spend time with an old friend though I think he's crazy to want to actually come to Dhaka for no apparent reason. No one actually comes to Dhaka unless you HAVE to. It will be good to spend my last week in Bangladesh with a familiar face. We will head to Srimongol so he can see the utter beauty of the countryside that is completely opposite of the ugliness that you live and experience in Dhaka city.

Bangladesh as a country has a lot to offer in terms of topography, flora, and fauna. It's beauty is not unlike many of the more famous areas of the world that I have been to, such as Costa Rica and Thailand. And I have found [most of its] people have been extremely welcoming,warm hearted, sincere, and eager to help. So while it seems like all I do is complain about how much I dislike Dhaka, I do love the rest of Bangladesh. I definitely think the country is an untapped tourist destination- but only for the thick skinned adventure loving outdoorsie type who are at peace with any and all kinds of bugs and reptiles, and who don't mind being dirty and sweaty all day long.

Three star hotel, Bangladeshi style

[Start of Rant]
I just had to swat a cockroach away from my bed. one inch from where I lay my head down to sleep. Who knows how many more there are hidden under the carpeting and crawling over my stuff as we speak. I don't even want to know what all the stains are from on my wall nor do I want to think about how I can smell the cancer causing bug spray they use to kill the bed bugs in the beds here.

I hate being such a complainer, but I couldn't hold it in any longer. I thought I'd be used to it after six weeks, coming on seven, but I can't get myself to swat the cockroach away and smile at it at the same time anymore.

Sigh. And this is supposed to be a three star hotel. Bangladeshi style I suppose. I guess on the bright side, the cockroaches aren't monstrously ginormous like they were in the village. I can intimidate them.

Yes, I am looking forward to checking out of this hotel for good.
[End of Rant]

Sand, Waves, and some night time escapades

Night time view of beach.

Five star hotel dinner.

The boys mixing the 7-Up.

Andrea really enjoying her fresh fruit juices.

Enjoying the view from a beach-side restaurant terrace.

Rosanna and Andrea, what a cute couple.

View of beach close to sunset.

Beautiful!!!

Funny how my posts are only about my weekend escapes from Dhaka and not about what I actually do everyday in Dhaka. That would be boring for the most part, who wants to know about what I am actually working on?

Anyways, who would have thought there was actually a very nice beach in Bangladesh? We went to Cox's Bazaar this weekend to celebrate/ close the chapter on Rosanna's last weekend in Bangladesh. It was a long journey there, but well worth the peace and quiet away from Dhaka.

We met up with this young Bangladeshi named Babu, whom Andrea and Rosanna met and befriended in Dhaka awhile back, and his two friends at the beach. Let's just say that boys will be boys anywhere I suppose. They were very kindhearted and friendly, but definitely young college boys. They were very pleased with the contraband Smirnoff that they hid in a 7-UP bottle and brought with them everywhere. And one of the three smoked a joint before breakfast just because. I chuckled, trying to think back to my college days and the adventures I had at Berkeley. But my memory gets spotty more than five years in the past...

One of the biggest downsides to the beach was that women have to wear the same thing they wear normally on the streets into the water. Think completely opposite of the nude beaches in Europe. Those three piece suits, yes, those are worn into the water while guys can run around without their shirts on. Sexy I know.

So, because of the unfortunately maddening cultural restrictions, we decided to not even try to go into the water until it was dark and no one could see us in our scantily clad two-pieces wave surfing. After dinner, armeed with our "7-UP", towels, and bathing suits hidden under our traditional clothing, we headed to a secluded area of the beach to have some fun. It felt liberating to strip off our knee-covering long pants and shoulder covering tops and run into the water, giggling like little kids who just stole a cookie from the cookie jar without getting slapped on the hand by mom.

None of the boys knew how to swim, and were at first scared to join us playing in the water. But eventually, they came in and battled the sometimes scary waves with us. We wanted to document our little scandalous adventure, so we took some "flash" photos, but not too many, in case any locals were to see that we were in our inappropriate beach wear. I am not posting any of those photos out of respect for all parties involved, and because I realized I have four weeks to get in shape for Fiji. The high carb diet and lack of exercise opportunities and facilities for the last six weeks have not been good for my bathing suit body.

The beach was pretty beautiful, its nearly up to par with some of the world class beaches I have been to over the last few years. Much cleaner than I expected, but not as developed as I expected. Sadly, I can see Cox's Bazaar turning into a Phuket or Boracay in a few years time. Right now, its in a state of transition from the local beach to an internationally known beach.

We decided to splurg on dinner our last night at the beach after the boys had left, and ate at a five star hotel along the main strip of the town. It almost felt like we weren't in Bangladesh anymore, the restaurant was so modern and posh looking. While there, we met some other foreigners (YES, WE FOUND SOME BESIDES OURSELVES!!) who were doing aid work in the area. We found ourselves turning into typical Bangladeshis, staring and pointing and wanting to know what county they are from. Quite funny actually, that we were doing to the other foreigners what the Bangladeshis do to us. But, we met this interesting guy Peter, who works for the UN relocating refugees to other countries, and he invited us to a foreigner party with all the other aid workers. The one night we get invited out we have to get on a painful 10 hour overnight bus back to Dhaka. Just our luck of course!

Unfortunately, I am back in Dhaka again. But, our little adventure in Cox's Bazaar was well worth the exhausting trip there and back. Again, my weekend demontrated to me that Bangladesh has a lot to offer outside of Dhaka.

Calcutta: my peaceful escape from the chaos of Dhaka

I was really digging the old school taxis they have in Calcutta. They look like the cars from The Godfather, except in gold and blue.

This is the intricately decorated inside of one of the restuarants we ate at.

Victoria Memorial, so beautiful. Surreptitiously and illegally taken photos of Marble Palace (don't ask me why we weren't allowed to take photos of the place)

YUMMY!

Calcutta is only a 30 minute flight from Dhaka. The two cities share a language and a history, but that's about it. Everything else about the cities are like night and day, yin and yang. Granted, there are parts of Calcutta that look like Bangladesh (in old Calcutta, close to Howrah Bridge), with dilapidated shacks and trash on the ground and its citizens using the sidewalk as a bathroom. But even those parts only slightly resembled the far more unkempt and chaotic city that is Dhaka. I mean, who would have thought that people actually drive in the lanes and follow the traffic signals?!

And people rarely honked, and even the honks sounded quietly elegant compared to the incessant loud and unpleasant honking that is a staple of Dhaka's roads. It was heaven, a pleasurable vacation for me, really, to be in Calcutta.

All Dhaka bashing aside, Rosanna and I remarked that we didn't know how bad we had it until we left Dhaka and realized there is something better out there. This is the opposite of "you don't appreciate what you have until you lose it".

Poor Rosanna, she got sick after the first day and never fully recovered enough to enjoy the city like I did. I got to eat and drink to my little heart's desire. And that I did. I am detoxing over the next few days from all the deliciously buttery and cheesy and carb-heavy meals (including hops) that I happily consumed this weekend. We ate, well I guess I ate, at some amazingly decorated places. Way nicer than any place I've been to in Dhaka for the last six weeks. I also took advantage of the non-Muslim country aspect of India and enjoyed some cold beers with my lunch. Oh the pleasure of the little things in life!

Aside from being food tourists, Rosanna and I went to see all the famous places in Calcutta: Victoria Memorial, Marble Palace, Howrah Bridge, Kali Temple, Mother Theresa's House, Botanical Gardens, and Indian Museum. And of course we went shopping. And now I need to buy an additional luggage to bring all the crap I bought back with me to the States. No more, I keep telling myself. But everything is so cheap and unique as well....usually the latter argument wins in this battle.

Mother (Theresa's) House was not magnificent or anything, but it was very much like her: unassuming, plain, and practical. Even though we didn't spend much time there, it was still very special to touch the tomb of someone who was so amazingly selfless and caring to those most in need.

Our experience in Calcutta wouldn't have been the same if dear Rahul hadnt helped us out in arranging hotels and transportation in his home city. So this is my shout out to you Rahul, thanks so much to you and your parents for such great hospitality!

As I went to bed my last night in Calcutta, I was sad to know that when I woke up I'd have to head back to the craziness of Dhaka. But Calcutta gave me hope for Dhaka, that one day Dhaka can be like Calcutta.

Food Adventures

New fav place, Dhaba.

Yummy street food, in a non-street food setting.

Showing off the goods, my mutton biryani.

Happiness for Chicken Biryani

Dinner at Sigma's house.

My first of three plates of the night.

Home cooking! Thank you Sigma's mommy.

We all went to a "Mosque food" place up the street for some Chicken/Mutton/Veggie Biryani. A good local joint, and nice and cheap. I have actually had some pretty good food lately, but anything is an upgrade compared to our usual haunts of Chicken Waffle (a korean joint?!), Treat, and our sub par hotel restaurants. Home cooking is still the best. My list of "to-eats" when I get out of Dhaka is more than a page long. I am planning to start with dim sum in Hong Kong and then eat my way back to the States. I have high hopes for food in Calcutta, so hopefully it doesn't disappoint.

Another amazing thing I realized is that I can actually wear normal clothes in Calcutta! No more covering up my leggies or my sexy shoulders. FREEDOM here I come! This whole Bangladesh thing has made the problem of my white legs even worse, if that's possible. Oh yeah, and I can have a glass of wine and not feel like I have to hide it in my water bottle. Maybe I should have done my summer at SKS instead :)

Anyways, I included some pictures above of the food I have eaten along the way. Yes, I am Asian and I take photos of my food. So what?