Bideshis...
Bideshis. Foreigners. From Dhaka to Dallas, Sydney to San Antonio, I can't remember the last time being a "foreigner" was a good thing...
Can we have a round of applause for the shambles in Chad at the moment? Thank you to everyone who made such a mess of things, I am so pleased that there is now even more scepticism at the work of NGOs in the world.
So my rickshaw driver has deserted me, taking my monthly payment and disappearing after only a week and a half. There is some background to this story, of course.
I first used this driver quite randomly, after doing some grocery shopping. He offered to be my driver quite on his own, saying he would be at my disposal if I paid him 2000 taka a month. I tried to negotiate him down to 1000, seeing as how my daily rickshaw needs amount to about 700 taka a month anyway, however it was quite half-hearted. It's hard to negotiate a price when you start thinking of the problems rickshaw drivers face, and the usually obscenely inadequate manner in which they are forced to live through circumstance. So I folded, accepted his 2000 per month offer, only to be told he needed me to buy him a phone as well! Being somewhat less financially secure as usual, see "Maths" blog previously, I told him I couldn't afford to buy him a phone at the moment, so I would try him out for a month to see how things go.
This last week and a half has been full of problems. My driver only takes me about halfway to work and back each day, as rickshaws are no longer allowed on the main road. There are of course ways around this, but he has been generally unmotivated to find a way across. I should add there have been several other drivers in the meantime who have asked me to use their services, who have shown just how easy it is to cross the street.
Our conversations during my short rides are limited to how much money he needs. He doesn't seem to want to speak of anything else, despite my best attempts to talk to him about his family, his job, his life.
Yesterday, he again asked me for money for a new phone... and then pulled out the model he currently uses...
His phone, and somehow it pains me to say this, was much better than the one I had purchased last month for myself...
He then launched into a request for 20,000 taka for registration for his rickshaw, telling me the police would take away his vehicle if he didn't pay in a couple of days. His body language told me he was lying, however I allowed for the cultural differences and gave him the benefit of the doubt. Had I the money, I would have given it to him, suspicious or not, and therein lies one of my biggest faults, however I genuinely cannot afford 10,000 taka, let alone 20,000, at the moment. When I told him I couldn't help him with that much, his entire demeanor changed. He became distant, spoke less, and though not angry or upset, seemed quite bored all of a sudden with my presence.
And now, no sign of him.
Bideshis here are full of these kind of stories. It's a difficult part of life here to want to help everyone, but there are simply too many people, too many mouths to feed, too many families to house, too many children to keep safe, healthy and happy... at least by just 1 person...
As for the rickshaw I used this morning; the driver got me from my house to work, crossed the street without a problem, then was very aprreciative of the amount I gave him. Go figure.
Can we have a round of applause for the shambles in Chad at the moment? Thank you to everyone who made such a mess of things, I am so pleased that there is now even more scepticism at the work of NGOs in the world.
So my rickshaw driver has deserted me, taking my monthly payment and disappearing after only a week and a half. There is some background to this story, of course.
I first used this driver quite randomly, after doing some grocery shopping. He offered to be my driver quite on his own, saying he would be at my disposal if I paid him 2000 taka a month. I tried to negotiate him down to 1000, seeing as how my daily rickshaw needs amount to about 700 taka a month anyway, however it was quite half-hearted. It's hard to negotiate a price when you start thinking of the problems rickshaw drivers face, and the usually obscenely inadequate manner in which they are forced to live through circumstance. So I folded, accepted his 2000 per month offer, only to be told he needed me to buy him a phone as well! Being somewhat less financially secure as usual, see "Maths" blog previously, I told him I couldn't afford to buy him a phone at the moment, so I would try him out for a month to see how things go.
This last week and a half has been full of problems. My driver only takes me about halfway to work and back each day, as rickshaws are no longer allowed on the main road. There are of course ways around this, but he has been generally unmotivated to find a way across. I should add there have been several other drivers in the meantime who have asked me to use their services, who have shown just how easy it is to cross the street.
Our conversations during my short rides are limited to how much money he needs. He doesn't seem to want to speak of anything else, despite my best attempts to talk to him about his family, his job, his life.
Yesterday, he again asked me for money for a new phone... and then pulled out the model he currently uses...
His phone, and somehow it pains me to say this, was much better than the one I had purchased last month for myself...
He then launched into a request for 20,000 taka for registration for his rickshaw, telling me the police would take away his vehicle if he didn't pay in a couple of days. His body language told me he was lying, however I allowed for the cultural differences and gave him the benefit of the doubt. Had I the money, I would have given it to him, suspicious or not, and therein lies one of my biggest faults, however I genuinely cannot afford 10,000 taka, let alone 20,000, at the moment. When I told him I couldn't help him with that much, his entire demeanor changed. He became distant, spoke less, and though not angry or upset, seemed quite bored all of a sudden with my presence.
And now, no sign of him.
Bideshis here are full of these kind of stories. It's a difficult part of life here to want to help everyone, but there are simply too many people, too many mouths to feed, too many families to house, too many children to keep safe, healthy and happy... at least by just 1 person...
As for the rickshaw I used this morning; the driver got me from my house to work, crossed the street without a problem, then was very aprreciative of the amount I gave him. Go figure.
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