Fielding Questions

I spoke to the director of the Yunus Center about the work I was doing. As promised, she is the most helpful person at Grameen. We talked about ways to combine my interest in going back into the field with working in the office. So, now I am back to working on a plan to go visit the Grameen social businesses, where I will help gather data for case studies. Unfortunately, at this point in time, I may only be able to get a single day at each business. Otherwise I would need to further extend my stay, which may not even guarantee greater access. I’m hoping to go in prepared, and get all my questions answered. Though, from what I hear, that could also prove challenging. 

Pyongyang (or I heart Dear Leader)

In the spirit of research and cultural learning, last night we visited the North Korean restaurant I had been told about, aptly called Pyongyang. Now, I don’t know exactly what I was expecting, perhaps something seedy that betrays the rumors of money laundering and indentured servitude, but it was not at all. Shockingly, it was the nicest dining experience, with some of the best food, I’ve had in Dhaka. To be honest, all I could think the whole time was, “I wish North Korea owned and operated the hotel I’m staying at, since at least then the service would be decent.” The place was clean.  The staff were courteous North Korean women in skirted uniforms (tasteful, not mini – they pretty much looked like stewardesses).  However, as promised, they did sing karaoke for/with us, which was amazing.  

I know you must have many questions, the first of which is: Do I have video of our North Korean waitress singing the Celine Dion song from Titanic? The answer is yes. You are probably also wondering if I have a photo her singing “I’m a Barbie Girl”? The answer is also yes.

There really are no words to describe the joy I had from watching this scenario in action. I don’t know if irony is quite the right word, but it was certainly something…special….

With regards to the money laundering and indentured servitude rumor – at this point I can neither confirm nor deny it. What I can say is that the service was extremely prompt, as perhaps it would be under such conditions; and that the manager, and older North Korean woman, was planning to bring the waitresses directly “home” after the restaurant closed. I foresee a few trips back for further investigation. 

General Disarray

As a stranger in a strange land it can be difficult, at times, to not try and generalize individual experiences as representative of the country as a whole. And it becomes even more difficult to resist the temptation after that experience starts to repeat itself. It is easy for the weary traveler to dismissively say, “That’s typical Bangladesh.” And I have been avoiding that by trying to keep an open mind, but it’s getting tougher.

I think I’ve benefited, somewhat, by having met many people and done many things outside my program, and having already stayed at three different hotels, because I could see how one might adopt a very negative view otherwise. When I first moved to this hotel, and met the other interns staying here, they were of the opinion that service in Bangladesh is typically horrible - as the service at this hotel is always horrible. However, I was of the opinion that service was very good, since I had just moved from two nicer hotels, and had eaten at many nice restaurants. Though, after a month here, I’m beginning to get jaded myself. I suppose maybe you just get what you pay for – here like anywhere else.

With that in mind, here are some scenarios that have repeatedly found myself in, here in Bangladesh. I won’t say they are typical, but they might just happen to you, too, if you were to visit:

The cab driver has picked you up with no gas in the car, and no money in his pocket. So, he will stop at a crowded gas station for half an hour, while you sit there, in the overheating car, with the windows rolled up, because there is a gather crowd of beggars sticking their hands in to ask for money from the foreigner. And not only will the driver expect you to wait through this ordeal until he finally gets gas, but then pay for it, as well.  

Or, your cab driver will not know where the street you are going to is, so he will stop and ask every person along the street, since they will all give a different answer, and then try to charge you more because it took a long time to find, even though it was because he got lost (and even though he is already overcharging you).

You work in an office in which every computer is riddled with viruses, and the printer practically shreds the pages that it prints.

It’s quite warm in the restaurant you’re in, so you ask if the temperature can be adjusted. The a/c is not working properly, so instead they place a high-velocity fan directly in front of you, which promptly blows most everything off the table.

 You go to the same restaurant multiple times and order the same dish multiple times, and receive a different dish every single time, since there is a different cook in the kitchen each night, and none of them follow a recipe.

The list goes on….

Tired of Being Tired

I’m very tired and having trouble sleeping. Last night I wondered why, then I was reminded, and wondered how I could forget. My hotel is situated in very close proximity to a mosque, which, because of Ramadan, has a blaring loud prayer calling/reading for two hours straight every morning from around 2:30am to 4:30am, the time for Suhoor.

I haven’t had a good night of sleep all week, and it’s really taking its toll. It’s making me very irritable, and in a city like Dhaka there are a million things to get on your nerves. So, all the “eccentricities” that I have been trying to take in stride, are now affecting my wellbeing and sanity. I really think I may need to take a night off, and stay at another hotel. Otherwise, I will not make it through the next month.  

Note: Please try and excuse the cultural insensitivity of this post. It is more a reflection of my state of being, than anything. I have since gotten some rest and feel a bit better. Though, as a traveler from a different culture, I will be quite happy when Ramadan has ended. 

Where Everybody Knows Your Name

Last night I went to the Bagha Club (one of the British ex-pat clubs) with Sam and her friends.  The food was bad and the drinks cheap, which I suppose makes it very typically British. It was a nice escape nonetheless. After leaving, I went to the Westin to find a taxi, as is my new normal routine. However, this routine appears to be so normal that all the rickshaw and taxi drivers on the corner know me and where I’m going, and erupt in a chorus of Mirpur 1 when I arrive (that’s the neighborhood in which my hotel is located). And now the taxi drivers even invite me to sit in the front passenger seat rather than the back seat. I must have Ali to thank for all this, since he is clearly talking me up with his friends. I’m not sure it’s a good thing the whole corner knows who I am and where I live, but I suppose it is nice to belong. 

The Axis of Evil Tigers

I had another good night at the American Club yesterday, and met some more interesting friends of Tania. One of her friends was a documentary film maker who had just come back from the Sundarban region – where the Bengal tiger wildlife preserve is. He had gone down there to speak with the people of an NGO called LEDARS, which specializes in assisting “tiger widows”. Now, I know what you are thinking – they are helping tigers that have lost a mate to human predation – but no. A “tiger widow” is a woman who has lost her husband to a tiger attack. Apparently tiger attacks are a real problem for some of the local populations. More specifically, and somewhat counter intuitively, the victims are mostly fisherman – on boats. These tigers leap and attack fisherman on boats who are fishing too close to the shore in the rivers of the preserve. And I heard figures of as high as 100 people or more get attacked by tigers per year in Bangladesh – that’s almost one tiger attack every three days!

My immediate reaction to this incredible information was excitement; though, I had some immediate remorse for that excitement, as well. I suppose the nature lover in me likes to hear stories of when an animal overcomes man, who has hunted it almost to extinction. It’s just unfortunate that there is a real, and visible human cost to this victory. Moreover, it’s said that once a tiger gets a taste for human meat, it will be a man-eater for life. We are too delicious. However, on the flip side, the film maker also told us about the footage he had seen of when an elderly tiger wandered into a village, because it could no longer catch wild prey, and how the entire village surrounded it and savagely strung it up and beat it to death (the word piñata was used for description). It seems these people have a somewhat long and mythical relationship with the tigers of the region – like medieval European villagers and dragons - sworn enemies. But these beasts are real.

Another of Tania’s friends told similarly mind-blowing story. Apparently, North Korea owns an international restaurant chain. And even better, there is a location here in Dhaka. Essentially, these restaurants are like typical (South) Korean karaoke bars, but the waitresses – tall, North Korean women in miniskirt uniforms - sing with/for you.  If, like me, you are wondering why such a place exists? Why a state that can’t feed its own people would own and operate an international restaurant chain? The word on the street is that these restaurants serve as money laundering outfits for the North Korean government. Also, the waitresses are forced to remit a certain amount of money back to North Korea each month; and in true North Korean fashion, if they do not, or if they try to flee and seek asylum, their families back in North Korea will be executed.

Now, I am really not fond of the idea of directly supporting the North Korean government, but, needless to say, this is something I have to see for myself. And I would hate to think some poor woman’s family might have been killed because she couldn’t make enough money to send back home during a seasonally slow month. I don’t want that blood on my hands.

Beard Update: Week 5

My attempts at keeping my beard trimmed have yielded uneven, or rather lopsided results. However, I’m kind of scared that further attempts to even it out will just make matters worse. I am in need of professional help. Ironically, there are barbers everywhere – even in the streets of Old Dhaka – giving shaves with straight edge razors. But that is a whole different kind of scary. This is certainly an act of determination.

In other news, I shampooed my face this morning.