This is my signing off blog, the last of the O'Bangladesh series. I have much to say but not enough gusto to eloquently tell the tales as they should be told, so this will be brief. The politically situation here is the same as it has been, seige and hartals. As of this last Monday, Dhaka was cut off from the rest of the country, the rest of the world, as the Awami League cut off the cities borders from the outside world. While this sounds extreme it has become normal, everyday life here and it does not limit me in my everyday activities.
Tomorrow is turkey day and in preparation for the feast I watched the boys, Tim, Nabil, and Steve, slaughter a turkey on the rooftop of Nabil's appartment. I knew it would be disgusting, but I wanted to watch anyways. It was most definitely disgusting, but miraculously enough it only takes a total of 15 minutes to kill and completely gut and clean the bird. Amazing huh?
Well i have 8 days left in this crazy beautiful country. It's time to take those pictures that I've been meaning to take, and gather the last minute christmas gifts.
Lame entry? Yes. Will I be more than happy to tell those who ask tales that I have omitted from the blog? Yes. Hope all is well. Inshallah I will see everyone soon. Khuda haphej!

somethin's a brewin'

Well, after a week of normal bliss here in the city of Dhaka, it looks like things might get shaky again come tomorrow. For more information on the situation here is a link to a Daily Star article I found this morning, Nov. the 11th, in the paper. www.thedailystar.net/2006/11/11/d6111101011.htm
I'll most likely be laying low for the next couple of days, but don't worry, i'll keep you all posted. khuda haphej!

what do we mean when we say 'partnership?'

In the development field it is becoming quite popular and beneficial to label relationships between donor agencies and countries as partnerships. This implies that there is mutual giving and receiving occuring during the development process; it levels the playing field and makes the relationship equal. While the idea in itself is great, one can't help but wonder what is really going to happen to this terminology. Will this lingo really change a norm or will it simply become the new way to disguise old colonial practices? In today's paper The Daily Star featured an article about the seminar held yesterday in Dhaka by the Swiss government. The seminar was entitled 'Bangladesh: On Road To Progress: Swiss contribution to Development organized by Swiss Agency for Development and Cooperation (SDC). Come on now, lets not toot our horn too much shall we? During this seminar Bangladeshis' were calling upon donor agencies to view their relationship as a parternish and not as an aid agency. The Swiss Ambassador's response to this request was simple and expected: "We will not only give you something but also learn something from you." Dr. Dora Rapold stated that Switzerland is supporting development initiatives in Bangladesh and that the country is making progress on its own. Did Dr. Dora Rapold mention anything that her country has learned from Bangladesh? What initiatives has the Swiss government started that mimick initiatives here in Bangladesh? Please, save us the party line.

People are quick to file in line. The term 'partnership' in development has become the new 'be all' method, and while I think it a wonderful idea in theory, i'm afriad it is going to be skewed as most things are. Is it going to become governements new false fairy-tail face utilized to get what they want when they want? I hope not. But it's hard not to notice how this partnership will not be seen as valuable in wealthy countrie's eyes as it will in poorer countries. The imbalance is hard to miss.

"We may not have wealth, but we have ideas and enormous potential," Mahfuz Anam, seminar monitor, said "on our part we need to become more self-confident." I just hope people really see the value in these ideas, in the great knowledge that can be acquired when people share information cross-culturally. It can be a beautiful thing. Lets just hope it gets there in practice.

Fear and Loathing in Downtown Dhaka

This was written after the my first week here in Bangladesh. Tim and I were returning to Dhaka from a four day trip to the northern district of Mymensign. Our car company reminded me of Hunter Thompson's two main characters from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas played by Johhny Deep and Benicio Del Toro. I therefore wrote this little ditty mimicking that style. Don't worry, no one was hopped up on anything. Enjoy!



We were driving through the streets of Dhaka and I was all hopped up on malaria pills. Cars were flying by like bats out of hell except there was no where to go, no room to turn; I had a feeling that we were going to become the feral fiend’s late night snack. The billboards were shifting in shape and form and all I could hear was the incessant sound of the honking horn. I gripped the handle bar in front of me and crouched towards the dash board shifting focus rapidly from side to side. I was mumbling incoherent incantations to myself while my partner kept his eyes fixed on the road, at ease with himself and his surroundings. The traffic stopped but the honking did not, and my compadre and I found ourselves victims of an ill placed traffic light.

“Salaam, will this light ever turn! Who ever thought of traffic lights anyways man? They have to be the most messed up concoctions ever! I tell you they call them traffic lights because they for causing traffic jams! Frickin' stupid westerners, you don’t need traffic lights if you have brains…I tell ya man!”

My partner went on like this for a good hour before he realized we had been clear of the jam for a good twenty minutes now. My hands were still clutched to the handle bar and I began to hunker down, down, closer to the dashboard until my nose touched the cheaply made plastic. My mind was reeling and I began to wish that my partner would shut up. He started rousing the attention of the two we had picked up in Mymensingh before we started on this crazy escapade. I didn’t know their names or if they were hopped up on something because they didn’t stop talking until we reached the outskirts of Dhaka.

situation update

Things have been back to normal in Dhaka for the past couple days- crowded streets, bustling traffic, open shops have all resumed their normal state. Their is the posibility that things could get a little messy again, but what else is to be expected in a country where two corrupt political parties are rivaling over decade old feuds two months before an election? The governement caretaker, the president, has refused to resign from his presiding position during the next few months leading up to the election. The BNP, former government party and currently campaigning party, appointed the president to the caretaker position when the original appointee resigened. The controversy here is that the president is not non-partisan and should have been the BNP's final option according to the constitution. The constitution gives a list of six possible persons to fill the caretaker position if the appointed resignes. The president is the last and final option. The BNP nominated him first. Before the president should be considered for this position (according to the constitution), a suitable non-partisan citizen should even be considered ...see the controversy? The Awami League has asked the president to step down, however, he refuses. This is the current situation. Things are peaceful now, but come the weekend some feathers may be ruffled again. People don't seem to be too anxious or nervous over the situation. It sounds like this sort of thing is unfortunately normal here and the Bangladeshi people have continued with their lives as normal. I'm riding on this overall calm attitude. Things will be ok.

On a non related subject I went and saw a play two nights ago. It was fantastic. The colors, music, acting was wonderful. They really did a nice job, and the man who wrote the music and stared in the show is someone who I have actually met several times. He is apparently one of Bangladesh's best composers and artists. Ha, what do ya know!!

hartals

During the last week, Bangladesh saw the end of Ramadan close out with three days of feasting better known as Eid. Myself and four friends decided to take this opportunity off from work to go down and explore the Sundarbans in the southwest part of the country, the mysterious jungle home to approx. 300 Bengal tigers. (no we didn't see any tigers but plenty of deer which appear to be an anomaly around here. Come the end of our trip we hear news from Dhaka that the opposition party, the Awami League, has declared a continuous hartal (strike) to prove to the BNP, the ruling party in Bangladesh, that they are serious about the upcoming election in January. No hartals were declared during the month ramadan as to respect the holiday, however, the day after Ramadan proved to be the perfect time to show that the opposition party is still serious about their demands.
My friends and I were therefore stuck on a boat outside the port city Khulna, 7 hours away from our homes in Dhaka with no means of transportation. No buses, trains, cars, motorbikes were able to head to Dhaka, thousands of people were stranded and forced to find other means of subsistence for the next couple of days. On the third day of imobility, we decamped and made our way back to Dhaka thanks to a temporary break in the 'continuous hartal'. The situation is shaky, but Bangladeshis seem to believe that the situation will work itself out in the next week. As for myself I am home at my appt. again and in the highly guarded district of Bonani, the diplomatic enclave, where policemen and RAB (special forces) guard its streets day and night. Now we just wait and see!

WARNING!!

Again, please do not read if you do not want to know my ...adventures. My stay in Katmandhu was short and sweet, a welcomed vacation from the crazy day to day activities that accompany living in Dhaka. We stayed on Freak st. off of Durbar sq. where many foreigners (tons of Europeans!) come to see the beautiful temples. Our room accomadations were provided by the Himalayan Guest House which is a quant quarters filled with pink walls and plenty of vegetation. The couple that owns the hostel were the first and the only couple to get married on top of Mt. Everest! (imagine that!)

I spent my days in cafes and reading Arundhati Roy's God of Small Things for the third time. But it was nice, and exactly what I needed. On the third day, Tim and I traveled to Nagarkot, a touristy city a half hour or so outside of Katmandhu. I took some walks through winding trails and began to notice that I was in a war torn country (bunkers...ek! time to turn back) And our gracious host, eleven year old Ashin, was the most adorable boy in the world. He took us through trails to see the snow capped peaks in the distance, which we never did see till our departure from the mystical city where seekers of enlightenment and daring treking trails travel. All in all it was a good time. Come the fifth day, the day of departure, I was, however, ready to return to Dhaka and the comforts of a culture I have come to love in all its oddity.

WARNING!! If you do not want to know my whereabouts please do not read!

WARNING NUMBER TWO! If you do not want to get to know me further than you already do, then please, do not read. This blog entry contains highly graphic and potentially traumatizing content. For those of you that continue to read, please, by all means, enjoy. ;)

The other night I was attacked...by bugs. No, not cockroaches, but transparent bugs that like to whisper and float through air, settling on the food and lips of unsuspecting persons. I was one of their latest victims (deserving? perhaps, I dared to dabble with cheese that was questionable)

"Hey Bacteria?! Did you hear Rachel is going to travel tomorrow?"
"Noi I hadn't Cold. Shall we pay her a visit before she departs?"
"Yea, I think that is a wonderful idea! I think she'll appretiate it as we havn't seen her in awhile, a good farewell gift."

Wrong, but thanks for the thought fellas. It is seven a.m., the day of departure for the highly anticipated travel to Katmandhu, and I wake up moaning. I am bloated, constipated, and cramping from some pizza that hadn't settled well the night before. I puked five times (pinnapple, cheese, vegetable--it was all there). Once I popped I didn't stop for the next two hours and found, sooner as oppossed to later, that it wasn't just my mouth that would be expelling my dear friend Bacteria from my body (my god what did I eat! And where did this cold come from!?)

From seven till ten I was paying hommage to the porceline gods. Strategically, I lied between my bedroom and the bathroom, bathroom and the bedroom, back and forth, forth and back. It was a precisely planned dance by all those involved other than myself; my body running to the torturous tune of timely feinds. The tune wasn't pretty.

By the time Tim returned, I felt I had at least exploded enough to salvage some time to make it to the airport. We grabbed our things and made for the door. I did, thank god, survive the airport experience embarrassment free and made it safely to Katmandhu.

To be continued...