1 month in... a brief recap...
Today is the 22nd of October... I left Australia exactly 1 month ago...
The night before I left was a mad rush of activity. Final checklists were made and ticked off, financial affairs were put in order, my precious books, cds, electronics and shoes (in no particular order) were dusted and covered. I couldn't help but wonder if I was a little crazy for leaving everything behind...
Once sufficiently satisfied that I had in fact packed everything I needed (sterile needles, an assortment of medecine, water purifying tablets, a torch, my Glaciers shorts...) I put on my finest "Big-time" (thank you Krissan) outfit, which of course involved the all-white Avirex jacket, and headed down south to support LockDown one last time...
What a great night... the boys didn't make the finals, but the routine, and the crowd reaction, was absolutely incredible. It was a source of great pride to see how far the crew had come.
I returned home quite early, however sleep escaped me. I rarely sleep at the best of times, however that night I was full of nervous energy... needless to say I didn't need the alarm clock to get me out of bed in the morning.
Veuga surprised me at the airport to wish me well. That's what brothers do, was his only comment. That's a righteous friend right there.
The trip to Dhala took us through Singapore. Thank goodness, because the Sydney to Singapore flight had a fault with their entertainment system... instead, I was treated to children in frint and behind me yelling and screaming and kicking the chairs and crying and sulking and carrying on... I had to keep reminding myself I'm opposed to murder...
By the way, I hate economy class. No really, I HATE economy class.
Singapore airport has changed somewhat since my last visit... the most notible addition: a 107-inch flat screen tv. Yes, that's what I said...
I ended up buying a basketball at the Nike store out of panic; just in case I couldn't find a proper basketball in Dhaka.
The flight to Dhaka was much more bearable. The flight wasn't packed, so there was room beside me. The food was adequate, the tvs worked, and there wasn't a peep coming from the other passengers.
We arrived quite late in Dhaka, all of us full of anticipation, and were pleasantly surprised to see several AYADs had come to welcome us. That was really great to experience.
We began our journey to our hotel, Hotel de Castle. No, I'm not making that up. The traffic was very similar to that of Athens; lanes mean nothing, the horn is the only method of communication, and the rule is if there is a hole, you must fill it with at least 1 vehicle. At least.
We stayed at de Castle for the 14 days of In-Country Orientation, which consisted of seemingly endless shopping for the girls, Bangla lessons in the morning, social, security and political briefings at the AYAD HQ, as well as (eventually) some sight-seeing and house hunting.
I've already described in little detail the people and the city, however I still feel as though I can't do it justice. I hope my pictures go some way towards gaining a better understanding of this place.
Some things to note if you ever visit:
You are a bideshi: a foreigner.
All foreigners are rich.
If you hang around the foreigner for long enough, he will give you money.
If you try to engage them for long enough, they will give you money.
If a forigner says they don't have money, beg harder.
It is necessary to charge all foreigners at least double what you charge locals. For anything.
Everyone, from the guards at the gate to the kids in the street, to the delivery guy whom you have already paid to next door's cleaning lady, who doesn't have anything to do with you, will ask you for baksheesh; cash.
Finding an apartment was quite arduous. I couldn't get the other two room mates together at the same time. They also wanted different things in an apartment. In the end we settled on a lovely little place, where another trio of AYADs also lives, which is only 50 or so metres from the river, but in a nice part of town, close to the supermarket, the bazaar, and several restaurants.
On that note, it's actually cheaper to eat out than go shopping in this country. Go figure.
As of today we finally have a couches, cushions, a dining table, a TV, a fridge and a washing machine in our house. Our little gas stove now works, we have fans (not "fixtures" in Bangladesh) and lights (ditto). We still have holes in the wall where air conditioning units are suppsoed to go, but that will get sorted out soon.
There is a great little dvd place up the road, which is full of the latest releases. Makes life a little more pleasant.
Work is now progressing at a reasonable pace. The first two weeks were furious, however now we have settled into a more manageable jog, rather than sprint.
I play basketball as often as I can in the neighbourhood, however I've heard tell of a competition being run at the American school... if I ever have some time, I'll go and sign up.
It's still quite strange to think of myself as actually being here, working at a Non-Government Organisation in a thirld-world country.
Strange, but wonderful.
The night before I left was a mad rush of activity. Final checklists were made and ticked off, financial affairs were put in order, my precious books, cds, electronics and shoes (in no particular order) were dusted and covered. I couldn't help but wonder if I was a little crazy for leaving everything behind...
Once sufficiently satisfied that I had in fact packed everything I needed (sterile needles, an assortment of medecine, water purifying tablets, a torch, my Glaciers shorts...) I put on my finest "Big-time" (thank you Krissan) outfit, which of course involved the all-white Avirex jacket, and headed down south to support LockDown one last time...
What a great night... the boys didn't make the finals, but the routine, and the crowd reaction, was absolutely incredible. It was a source of great pride to see how far the crew had come.
I returned home quite early, however sleep escaped me. I rarely sleep at the best of times, however that night I was full of nervous energy... needless to say I didn't need the alarm clock to get me out of bed in the morning.
Veuga surprised me at the airport to wish me well. That's what brothers do, was his only comment. That's a righteous friend right there.
The trip to Dhala took us through Singapore. Thank goodness, because the Sydney to Singapore flight had a fault with their entertainment system... instead, I was treated to children in frint and behind me yelling and screaming and kicking the chairs and crying and sulking and carrying on... I had to keep reminding myself I'm opposed to murder...
By the way, I hate economy class. No really, I HATE economy class.
Singapore airport has changed somewhat since my last visit... the most notible addition: a 107-inch flat screen tv. Yes, that's what I said...
I ended up buying a basketball at the Nike store out of panic; just in case I couldn't find a proper basketball in Dhaka.
The flight to Dhaka was much more bearable. The flight wasn't packed, so there was room beside me. The food was adequate, the tvs worked, and there wasn't a peep coming from the other passengers.
We arrived quite late in Dhaka, all of us full of anticipation, and were pleasantly surprised to see several AYADs had come to welcome us. That was really great to experience.
We began our journey to our hotel, Hotel de Castle. No, I'm not making that up. The traffic was very similar to that of Athens; lanes mean nothing, the horn is the only method of communication, and the rule is if there is a hole, you must fill it with at least 1 vehicle. At least.
We stayed at de Castle for the 14 days of In-Country Orientation, which consisted of seemingly endless shopping for the girls, Bangla lessons in the morning, social, security and political briefings at the AYAD HQ, as well as (eventually) some sight-seeing and house hunting.
I've already described in little detail the people and the city, however I still feel as though I can't do it justice. I hope my pictures go some way towards gaining a better understanding of this place.
Some things to note if you ever visit:
You are a bideshi: a foreigner.
All foreigners are rich.
If you hang around the foreigner for long enough, he will give you money.
If you try to engage them for long enough, they will give you money.
If a forigner says they don't have money, beg harder.
It is necessary to charge all foreigners at least double what you charge locals. For anything.
Everyone, from the guards at the gate to the kids in the street, to the delivery guy whom you have already paid to next door's cleaning lady, who doesn't have anything to do with you, will ask you for baksheesh; cash.
Finding an apartment was quite arduous. I couldn't get the other two room mates together at the same time. They also wanted different things in an apartment. In the end we settled on a lovely little place, where another trio of AYADs also lives, which is only 50 or so metres from the river, but in a nice part of town, close to the supermarket, the bazaar, and several restaurants.
On that note, it's actually cheaper to eat out than go shopping in this country. Go figure.
As of today we finally have a couches, cushions, a dining table, a TV, a fridge and a washing machine in our house. Our little gas stove now works, we have fans (not "fixtures" in Bangladesh) and lights (ditto). We still have holes in the wall where air conditioning units are suppsoed to go, but that will get sorted out soon.
There is a great little dvd place up the road, which is full of the latest releases. Makes life a little more pleasant.
Work is now progressing at a reasonable pace. The first two weeks were furious, however now we have settled into a more manageable jog, rather than sprint.
I play basketball as often as I can in the neighbourhood, however I've heard tell of a competition being run at the American school... if I ever have some time, I'll go and sign up.
It's still quite strange to think of myself as actually being here, working at a Non-Government Organisation in a thirld-world country.
Strange, but wonderful.
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