Anne and I spent what was to be my last day in Dhaka taking the business student's tour of south asian commerce. In school, I read quite a bit about how retail works in this part of the world. From a US B-school perspective, the focus was on how retail is different here than the west and how multinational organizations can adapt to this culture. From an historial perspective, I would argue that retailing here is much more traditional than what is happening in the west. Most large companies still have to learn how to do business in areas like this, without completely changing everything.
Our first stop was Newmarket, a traditional shopping district with an open air section, a three story main building, and a food market in the back. Fortuntately for us, Newmarket is slow on Mondays. So, we were able to stroll along in relative comfort and browse the shops. Just like in Old Dhaka, Newmarket is roughly organized into districts. There is an area devoted to fabrics, jewelry, electronics, housewares, etc. With my untrained eye, it is hard to see the difference between the many shops of each type. It is also hard to spend some time looking before buying! The shop owners are eager to help, and to complete the sale! Anne and I certainly were treated like visiting royalty, which meant we don't always get the best price.
I did get a chance to get a closer look at Shinepukur ceramics. This company is a large Deshi conglomerate that started making fine china in 1999 ( http://www.shinepukur.com/ ). You can see some of their patterns at Target! Apparently, it is much cheaper here but I didn't find out for myself.
We peeked into the food market. What chaos! It was a loud pit of agressive men haggling, tossing goods, and otherwise conducting the messy business of trading in food. It was wonderful. There were several spice stalls in the food area that was focused on retail food sales. Those smelled wonderful.
Newmarket is crowded, a little dirty, and haggling is pretty much the norm. It was a really fun way to see what merchants have to offer here, pick up a few gifts, and realize how similar things can be all over the world. The more time I spent there, I noticed some subtle differences between one vendor and the next. Each has has slightly different merchandise. Each also has a very different haggling style. This place is certainly a great experiment in price elasticity! For us, we also differentiated based on the vendor's willingness or ability to deal with us. Anne knows enough Bangla to get by, but it is very hard to do business with someone who doesn't know English numbers. Overall, it was a great experience. I am sad to leave and know that I may never go back!
Our second stop was Bashundara Plaza, a modern high rise shopping center. This places looks, from the outside, like many city center shopping malls - tall, shiny, and wealthy looking. Inside, the shops are arranged just like Newmarket! Shops are segregated by floor. There is a men's floor, a jewelry and beauty floor, a sari floor, a shalwar kamese floor, etc. The shops are small and crowded. The main difference between this and Newmarket is that the shops here are less densely packed with goods. The next thing you notice is that this place is filled with obnoxious mall rats (another similarity with the US).
This concludes my tour of Dhaka and some areas of Dhaka division. I've had a wonderful time and Anne and Randy are wonderful hosts. Which is a good thing since I will be around for a while longer than planned! We've learned that my flight out will be delayed. The incoming plane was diverted to Kolcata. This time it isn't fog, it's some problems on the runway (a plane ruptured a tire). It looks like the flight may be delayed long enough to mess up my connections. Ah, Dhaka! This will complete my Bangladeshi experience.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Saturday, February 10, 2007
Shankari Bazzar
I just realized that this blog is set to timestamp my entries based on US eastern time zone (GMT -5). Since we are at GMT +6 here, all my posts are actually happening a half day after the time stamp indicates! (Just add 11 hours)
Yesterday, Anne gave me a tour of Shankari Bazzar. It is an old Hindu neighborhood that is the home for a community that dates back several hundred years. Observant family members will remember her informed entry on the Peale family blog. This community is one of the last surviving Hindu artisan groups in the area. Most Hindus left during separation. They make shankari, beautiful conch shell bracelets that are worn by Hindu brides. Each bracelet is painstakely carved from a conch shell from artisans working in impossibly small spaces. Anne and I both purchase a pair - if we can get them back onto our wrists, you will see an example! The shop owner squeezed our hands into the smallest size possible. Our best guess is that this is somewhat akin to Scarlett O'Hara being squeezed into the smallest corset possible - smaller is better and more feminine. With our large western hands, we still had some of the largest bracelets available!
The bazzar itself is a short, narrow street that is only about 2 US city blocks long. On this day, it was incredibly crowded with rickshaws and people. On our first pass of the street, it was all I could do not to get my sharlwar kamese caught in the wheels of a rickshaw! Thus, there are only a few photos. Our walk was made more difficult by the primitive nature of the area. These buildings are at least 400 years old and they have not been updated with modern conveniences. Like many areas of Dhaka, it was a glimpse into what life was like in most of the world just a short time ago. The roadside was full of household scraps. There were partially open "gutters" on both sides of the road. There are also two Hindu shrines on this street, both of which stop pedestrian traffic. All of these added to the number of road hazzards! The first pass through was definitely overwhelming.
As we made our way back to the car (second pass), we stopped to purchase the bracelets. Stopping and sitting for a spell helped us catch our breath (this was busy even for Anne) and it let the residents stop, stare, and get used to us. (We had collected the usual parade of curious Deshis.) After leaving the shop, making our way was a bit easier. We even ran into the guide from the boat trip yesterday! It almost made Dhaka seem like a small town. We were just about to the car when a Deshi stopped us and admired our bracelets. He introduced himself as a banker and as a Hindu. He told us that if we were to visit the Hindu neighborhood that we should take time to see the Kalipuja (Festival of Khali) happening right at that moment. He told us that a music group was performing religious songs. Normally, you don't go following random people. But here, if someone wants to show off their culture to westerners they are pretty genuine. (there was also a police barack close by...) He took us back down Shankari Bazzar (third pass). He took us down an alley just at the end of the road and after a few steps we saw the large fabric archway and festival tent. It was beautiful! He told us that this festival lasts 9 days and continues 24 hours a day. It is hard to describe the atmosphere in the tent. The air was full of incense and the music was haunting. Everything was vividly colored and beautiful. The crowd was reverently silent. However, no amount of tiptoeing or silence could prevent two white women from disrupting everything. After getting permission to take photos, I quickly snapped a few and we moved on. Our driver was waiting and no one was paying attention to the musicians (even they were staring at us).
The quickest way back was around the block and down an even narrower alley. Through practice and by following our guide, Anne and I finally got the Shankari Bazzar traffic mojo. On our final trip through the bazzar (fourth pass), we were deftly moving through traffic. The trick is to place yourself in between the the back wheels of the the bumper to bumper rickshaws. Effectively, you are walking right next to the front wheel. You can pass when you find a wider spot in the road and move even more quickly when you reach a break in the rickshaws. If you are good, you can keep your pedicure nice and neat at the same time (you are in sandals, of course).
Shankari Bazzar itself is in danger. The Bangladeshi government has condemned the buildings as unsafe and they are scheduled for destruction. There are local architects that are working with the shankari community and the government to help save what remains of the architectural and cultural heritage of this area of Dhaka. Anne wrote about this extensively in their blog, so I will not repeat it here. My hope is that if more westerners show interest in this area as a tourist destination, the locals will come to view it as an important site for preservation.
Yesterday, Anne gave me a tour of Shankari Bazzar. It is an old Hindu neighborhood that is the home for a community that dates back several hundred years. Observant family members will remember her informed entry on the Peale family blog. This community is one of the last surviving Hindu artisan groups in the area. Most Hindus left during separation. They make shankari, beautiful conch shell bracelets that are worn by Hindu brides. Each bracelet is painstakely carved from a conch shell from artisans working in impossibly small spaces. Anne and I both purchase a pair - if we can get them back onto our wrists, you will see an example! The shop owner squeezed our hands into the smallest size possible. Our best guess is that this is somewhat akin to Scarlett O'Hara being squeezed into the smallest corset possible - smaller is better and more feminine. With our large western hands, we still had some of the largest bracelets available!
The bazzar itself is a short, narrow street that is only about 2 US city blocks long. On this day, it was incredibly crowded with rickshaws and people. On our first pass of the street, it was all I could do not to get my sharlwar kamese caught in the wheels of a rickshaw! Thus, there are only a few photos. Our walk was made more difficult by the primitive nature of the area. These buildings are at least 400 years old and they have not been updated with modern conveniences. Like many areas of Dhaka, it was a glimpse into what life was like in most of the world just a short time ago. The roadside was full of household scraps. There were partially open "gutters" on both sides of the road. There are also two Hindu shrines on this street, both of which stop pedestrian traffic. All of these added to the number of road hazzards! The first pass through was definitely overwhelming.
As we made our way back to the car (second pass), we stopped to purchase the bracelets. Stopping and sitting for a spell helped us catch our breath (this was busy even for Anne) and it let the residents stop, stare, and get used to us. (We had collected the usual parade of curious Deshis.) After leaving the shop, making our way was a bit easier. We even ran into the guide from the boat trip yesterday! It almost made Dhaka seem like a small town. We were just about to the car when a Deshi stopped us and admired our bracelets. He introduced himself as a banker and as a Hindu. He told us that if we were to visit the Hindu neighborhood that we should take time to see the Kalipuja (Festival of Khali) happening right at that moment. He told us that a music group was performing religious songs. Normally, you don't go following random people. But here, if someone wants to show off their culture to westerners they are pretty genuine. (there was also a police barack close by...) He took us back down Shankari Bazzar (third pass). He took us down an alley just at the end of the road and after a few steps we saw the large fabric archway and festival tent. It was beautiful! He told us that this festival lasts 9 days and continues 24 hours a day. It is hard to describe the atmosphere in the tent. The air was full of incense and the music was haunting. Everything was vividly colored and beautiful. The crowd was reverently silent. However, no amount of tiptoeing or silence could prevent two white women from disrupting everything. After getting permission to take photos, I quickly snapped a few and we moved on. Our driver was waiting and no one was paying attention to the musicians (even they were staring at us).
The quickest way back was around the block and down an even narrower alley. Through practice and by following our guide, Anne and I finally got the Shankari Bazzar traffic mojo. On our final trip through the bazzar (fourth pass), we were deftly moving through traffic. The trick is to place yourself in between the the back wheels of the the bumper to bumper rickshaws. Effectively, you are walking right next to the front wheel. You can pass when you find a wider spot in the road and move even more quickly when you reach a break in the rickshaws. If you are good, you can keep your pedicure nice and neat at the same time (you are in sandals, of course).
Shankari Bazzar itself is in danger. The Bangladeshi government has condemned the buildings as unsafe and they are scheduled for destruction. There are local architects that are working with the shankari community and the government to help save what remains of the architectural and cultural heritage of this area of Dhaka. Anne wrote about this extensively in their blog, so I will not repeat it here. My hope is that if more westerners show interest in this area as a tourist destination, the locals will come to view it as an important site for preservation.
Friday, February 9, 2007
They've almost got it, now they just need tourists
Yesterday, I went on a tourist boat ride up the Bhramaputra river heading upstream from Dhaka (previously misidentified as the Bariganga; the Bariganga can be seen my previous posting about the tour through old town). This was your typical tourist trip complete with large, comfortable boat, lunch on board, and a couple of cultural stops. Rich and I have been on several of these (it seems like we go on one on every trip). So, I was expecting the usual mix of tourists - a couple on their honeymoon, the flatlanders, some Japanese, and a lone German. Don't ask me why, but these trips ALWAYS have that mix. I am not sure why I had that expectation, since every single Westerner I have met here is here for work or is married to someone who works here. As it turns out, we did have the lone German. I am not sure why he is here (his English wasn't great). As for the others, they were a mix of diplomats from various countries, a water engineer from the UK working on a World Bank project, a woman here as a part of the Southern Baptist Mission, and her mother. Her mother is the only other westerner I have met that is here on a visit. Due to this mix and the personalities involved (those over educated, gregarious, and crazy enough to agree to live in B-desh for a while), the conversation on board was more like a party in Cambridge, MA than typical tourist chit-chat.
The boat ride was a lovely break from the congestion, smog, and noise of Dhaka. This branch of the Bhramaputra is wide and slow moving - and teeming with life. The villages tapered off as we moved north, giving way to larger plots of farming or large industrial sites. In just a short ride up the river, we saw a brick factory, cement, sugar mill (under construction), and several sand harvesting units. For the majority of the trip, we were greeted by villagers who were washing clothes, bathing, and playing in the river. (Friday is a weekend here.) I am not yet sure what percentage of the greeting waves and shouts were friendly, but I chose to let ignorance help me believe they are friendly. There are, of course, some universally understood gestures and signals that are unambiguous. Given the almost universal nature of merchant mariners, we saw several such gestures from the commercial shipping vessels that passed us by. (Friday might be a weekend and the day for prayer, but industry comes first here.) It was a stark reminder of how women, especially white women, are viewed in this culture.
We stopped to view a Rajibara, a landowners house from the time of British rule. It was built in 1901 and is practically in ruins. Our guide told us it is now used as a government university. However, I saw no signs that might indicate its use for anything. The only people there were regular army and what appeared to be squatters (only women and children at that). There are no pictures of the army, per request. The owner of this house was an employee of the local British viceroy. He was Hindu - most Hindus left the country during the separation of India and Pakistan that occured when the British left. The grounds have a private temple, bathing pools for men and women, and a large courtyard in the middle of building that has what would have been a beautiful puja (shrine for a chosen deity).
The trip ashore afforded my fellow boat riders a chance to break the ice. The woman from the German embassy quized me on my opinions of Hillary Clinton and Barak Obama (she would vote for Hillary if she could). The water engineer from the UK comiserated with me on living in the countries with the two highest tax rates (according to him anyway, I have no idea if that is true. I always thought Scandinavian countries won that honor). He also went on about the government surveilence programs and the Blair government. The US embassy doctor cheerfully chatted with everyone, regardless of English ability.
Back on board, the water engineer explained that he is here working on a World Bank project to improve water supplies to Dhaka. Despite the fact the Bangladesh is situated on the largest river delta in the world, it faces a significant clean water problem. The list of primary problems is almost endless, the two biggies are: naturally occurring arsenic and poor water treatment/sanitation. The problem of naturally occurring arsenic is shared with several sites around the world, including somewhere in Argentina (another place he's worked). According to him, scientists in Inda have just announced a groundbreaking way to use coconut husks to filter out arsenic. It is cheap, easy, and sustainable so it give some hope for Bangladesh. The problem with proper sanitation is a harder one to fix. Water engineers have to work on many angles, not the least of which is to educate locals on the dangers of mixing sewage and clean water. (Don't get too high and mighty, westerners figured this out only a couple of hundred year ago.) A bigger problem is how the quaity of the water that reaches Dhaka. The sand harvesting units I mentioned earlier dredge the river bottom, pull up sand, and drain the water back into the river. (The sand is then shipped back to Dhaka at the port from which we launched.) As you can imagine, that stirs up a lot of silt. You can see the silt in the water near these units. The silt creates problems during treatment because it clogs the filters (a simpletons way of putting it). Another problem is the industry on the water. Every factory we saw was dumping waste water directly into the river. (It is now time to get right off that high horse because we still haven't totally fixed this one.)
An even more sobering thought is that these water purification efforts are concentrated on Dhaka. The villagers who live on the river pull the water directly from the river. They have no treatment plants.
A more cheerful stop was to a small village that specialises in fabric weaving. The trip brouchure and the guide emphasized that this village hand weaves traditional Bangladesh muslin saris that are prized for their quality. That is certainly true. We "toured" the factory (one small room) and they demonstrated the weaving technique. It is very intricate. While one of my compatriots asked about child labor, I can say that there were men of all ages (only one female) and only one person looked to be 12-14 years old. These workers also make about double the salary of the garment workers in the factories in Dhaka. What is also true is that this village has at least two automated weaving shops. I know because they were running while we were there. From what I gathered from the guide, the handwoven saris are sold in exclusive shops and through special order, mostly for weddings and other special occaisons. He did not speak of the automated looms, but my assumption is that those are for mass consumption - and tourist sales. I am almost certain that the wrap I bought came from one of the automated looms. Which is fine - and exactly what you would get from a similar place in the US.
Overall, this was a lovely tourist trip with all the trappings of tourist boat trips the world over, just without the tourists.
Once we arrived back at the Guide Tours office in Dhaka, I was back in the hectic crowd and stare world of the Deshis. As I waited for Randy to pick me up I was quickly surrounded by beggars, rickshaw drivers, and CNG drivers all hoping to get some of my business. Not only was Randy on his way, but I have decided that I am covered by the embassy ban on rickshaw rides for employees and family. Sure, it's the scaredy-cats way out but I'll take it.
We ended the day at a nice Korean restaurant. The highlight of the meal was one of the many tasty bits that were offered to us to start the meal. Amongst the expected kim chee, teriyaki, and other pickled items, we received an elegantly presented treat. It was some sort of glutenous mass shaped into a heart. The waiter called it, "vegetable mayonaise salad". Hesitantly, we all tried it. We're pretty sure it was potato salad.
The boat ride was a lovely break from the congestion, smog, and noise of Dhaka. This branch of the Bhramaputra is wide and slow moving - and teeming with life. The villages tapered off as we moved north, giving way to larger plots of farming or large industrial sites. In just a short ride up the river, we saw a brick factory, cement, sugar mill (under construction), and several sand harvesting units. For the majority of the trip, we were greeted by villagers who were washing clothes, bathing, and playing in the river. (Friday is a weekend here.) I am not yet sure what percentage of the greeting waves and shouts were friendly, but I chose to let ignorance help me believe they are friendly. There are, of course, some universally understood gestures and signals that are unambiguous. Given the almost universal nature of merchant mariners, we saw several such gestures from the commercial shipping vessels that passed us by. (Friday might be a weekend and the day for prayer, but industry comes first here.) It was a stark reminder of how women, especially white women, are viewed in this culture.
We stopped to view a Rajibara, a landowners house from the time of British rule. It was built in 1901 and is practically in ruins. Our guide told us it is now used as a government university. However, I saw no signs that might indicate its use for anything. The only people there were regular army and what appeared to be squatters (only women and children at that). There are no pictures of the army, per request. The owner of this house was an employee of the local British viceroy. He was Hindu - most Hindus left the country during the separation of India and Pakistan that occured when the British left. The grounds have a private temple, bathing pools for men and women, and a large courtyard in the middle of building that has what would have been a beautiful puja (shrine for a chosen deity).
The trip ashore afforded my fellow boat riders a chance to break the ice. The woman from the German embassy quized me on my opinions of Hillary Clinton and Barak Obama (she would vote for Hillary if she could). The water engineer from the UK comiserated with me on living in the countries with the two highest tax rates (according to him anyway, I have no idea if that is true. I always thought Scandinavian countries won that honor). He also went on about the government surveilence programs and the Blair government. The US embassy doctor cheerfully chatted with everyone, regardless of English ability.
Back on board, the water engineer explained that he is here working on a World Bank project to improve water supplies to Dhaka. Despite the fact the Bangladesh is situated on the largest river delta in the world, it faces a significant clean water problem. The list of primary problems is almost endless, the two biggies are: naturally occurring arsenic and poor water treatment/sanitation. The problem of naturally occurring arsenic is shared with several sites around the world, including somewhere in Argentina (another place he's worked). According to him, scientists in Inda have just announced a groundbreaking way to use coconut husks to filter out arsenic. It is cheap, easy, and sustainable so it give some hope for Bangladesh. The problem with proper sanitation is a harder one to fix. Water engineers have to work on many angles, not the least of which is to educate locals on the dangers of mixing sewage and clean water. (Don't get too high and mighty, westerners figured this out only a couple of hundred year ago.) A bigger problem is how the quaity of the water that reaches Dhaka. The sand harvesting units I mentioned earlier dredge the river bottom, pull up sand, and drain the water back into the river. (The sand is then shipped back to Dhaka at the port from which we launched.) As you can imagine, that stirs up a lot of silt. You can see the silt in the water near these units. The silt creates problems during treatment because it clogs the filters (a simpletons way of putting it). Another problem is the industry on the water. Every factory we saw was dumping waste water directly into the river. (It is now time to get right off that high horse because we still haven't totally fixed this one.)
An even more sobering thought is that these water purification efforts are concentrated on Dhaka. The villagers who live on the river pull the water directly from the river. They have no treatment plants.
A more cheerful stop was to a small village that specialises in fabric weaving. The trip brouchure and the guide emphasized that this village hand weaves traditional Bangladesh muslin saris that are prized for their quality. That is certainly true. We "toured" the factory (one small room) and they demonstrated the weaving technique. It is very intricate. While one of my compatriots asked about child labor, I can say that there were men of all ages (only one female) and only one person looked to be 12-14 years old. These workers also make about double the salary of the garment workers in the factories in Dhaka. What is also true is that this village has at least two automated weaving shops. I know because they were running while we were there. From what I gathered from the guide, the handwoven saris are sold in exclusive shops and through special order, mostly for weddings and other special occaisons. He did not speak of the automated looms, but my assumption is that those are for mass consumption - and tourist sales. I am almost certain that the wrap I bought came from one of the automated looms. Which is fine - and exactly what you would get from a similar place in the US.
Overall, this was a lovely tourist trip with all the trappings of tourist boat trips the world over, just without the tourists.
Once we arrived back at the Guide Tours office in Dhaka, I was back in the hectic crowd and stare world of the Deshis. As I waited for Randy to pick me up I was quickly surrounded by beggars, rickshaw drivers, and CNG drivers all hoping to get some of my business. Not only was Randy on his way, but I have decided that I am covered by the embassy ban on rickshaw rides for employees and family. Sure, it's the scaredy-cats way out but I'll take it.
We ended the day at a nice Korean restaurant. The highlight of the meal was one of the many tasty bits that were offered to us to start the meal. Amongst the expected kim chee, teriyaki, and other pickled items, we received an elegantly presented treat. It was some sort of glutenous mass shaped into a heart. The waiter called it, "vegetable mayonaise salad". Hesitantly, we all tried it. We're pretty sure it was potato salad.
Thursday, February 8, 2007
Trip to Sonargaon
What an amazing day! I don't have much time, so I will have to let the photos speak for themselves. Today, Anne, Sam, and I ventured to Sonargaon. It the old capital of Bengal and has several magnificent ruins that date back to the early Mughal empire (about 500 years old). The main road of ruins reminded us both of Petra - descending into the ruins of an ancient and glorious culture. (Of course, She has seen it in person; I've only seen it in Raiders of the Lost Ark.) The village of Sonargaon was a hectic mish mash of people, mud, rickshaws, baby cabs, cars, trucks, and animals. Amazing! Somehow, amidst all this chaos we were the spectacle.
We stopped at a "Tourist Home Picnic Stop" and picked up a "local guide". We're pretty sure he's just a guy from the village. Anne's driver, Harun, talked with the man so we were pretty sure things were OK. We were not out of the car for two minutes before we picked up an evergrowing parade of children. The ruins were very interesting, and very well preserved given that there is no real preservation here. We also made a quick stop to the local museum. We just wanted to walk the grounds; It was a long ride home and getting late. Harun tried to sneak us in the back way so that we could avoid paying the ticket fee. His heart was in the right place - but it is some feat to sneak two white women and a baby through the back fence around here! The grounds of the museum were in full bloom and quite lovely.
As you can see from the traffic scenes, it was a day that was full of visual stimulation. It was very nice to get out of Dhaka and enjoy the landscape of the surrounding area. The villages seem to be Dhaka, distilled.
I should note that I visited the embassy with Anne twice today. You will be happy to know that the bulding is so secure I had a hard time entering. The second visit was to the commissary (which is less secure). The food there is, well, not the best I've seen in Bangladesh so far.
We ended the day with a pleasant night at a friends house. I have to get up early to make a day long boat ride up the Bariganga river. Some embassy staffers will be joining me.
We stopped at a "Tourist Home Picnic Stop" and picked up a "local guide". We're pretty sure he's just a guy from the village. Anne's driver, Harun, talked with the man so we were pretty sure things were OK. We were not out of the car for two minutes before we picked up an evergrowing parade of children. The ruins were very interesting, and very well preserved given that there is no real preservation here. We also made a quick stop to the local museum. We just wanted to walk the grounds; It was a long ride home and getting late. Harun tried to sneak us in the back way so that we could avoid paying the ticket fee. His heart was in the right place - but it is some feat to sneak two white women and a baby through the back fence around here! The grounds of the museum were in full bloom and quite lovely.
As you can see from the traffic scenes, it was a day that was full of visual stimulation. It was very nice to get out of Dhaka and enjoy the landscape of the surrounding area. The villages seem to be Dhaka, distilled.
I should note that I visited the embassy with Anne twice today. You will be happy to know that the bulding is so secure I had a hard time entering. The second visit was to the commissary (which is less secure). The food there is, well, not the best I've seen in Bangladesh so far.
We ended the day with a pleasant night at a friends house. I have to get up early to make a day long boat ride up the Bariganga river. Some embassy staffers will be joining me.
Wednesday, February 7, 2007
That didn't sound like thunder
A very, very loud explosion woke me last night. I scrambled out of bed in a panic, fully aware that the Foreign Minister's house is across the street (apparently, we had some bad information earlier) and that anything can happen here at anytime. I fumbled for my glasses, remembered that my shoes are downstairs, and scurried to the back of the house where Anne and Randy's bedroom is located. I was also fully aware that poor Anne hasn't really slept more than 2 hours each day since we left Dulles. However, that was an explosion and I was not going to kid around. I knock on the door, not too loud so I won't wake Sam. As I go in, I realize (fortunately) that Anne is wide awake, Sam is still asleep, and she tells me it's thunder. Apparently, it had been raining for a while, the electricity had been on/off a few times, and it wasn't even the only peal of thunder (but it was the loudest).
Ah, I am well equipped for this environment.
Ah, I am well equipped for this environment.
Photos updated
With a rock solid internet connection tonight, I am able to catch up on thoughts and get my photos online. I have added links to my online photo albums where appropriate, so you might need to re-read an entry or two.
Dhaka Do's and Don'ts
*At any point, if you think "I wonder if my camera battery will die?", DO charge it, buy a back up, whatever is appropriate at the time.
*Unless you have a steely sense of "Whatever!", DO wear locally appropriate clothing
*DO Know how to roll up car windows at busy intersections
*DON'T go it alone
*DON'T go outside the boundaries, remember that you already are! (Chicken tikka is not the same the world over)
*Unless you have a steely sense of "Whatever!", DO wear locally appropriate clothing
*DO Know how to roll up car windows at busy intersections
*DON'T go it alone
*DON'T go outside the boundaries, remember that you already are! (Chicken tikka is not the same the world over)
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