Differences, rabbit holes, peace and limousines

Different, but different  

The last week has seen the ending of Ramadam and the celebration of Eid. In a country where 85% of the population are Muslim this period has proved a curious introduction to Bangladeshi life. With most people fasting during the day and then eating at home with their families at night, the streets have been quiet (well, apart from the endless chaos and noise of the traffic) with few restaurants and street food stalls open and the evenings hushed. The ending of Ramadam, Eid, sees many Bangladeshis visiting the houses of their extended families sharing meals, gifts and friendship. However, for people with no family here, those new to the country, we had a rather dull time. The comparison would be 6 people who live in the tropical rain forest being introduced to England at Christmas and New Years and then left in a hotel in Watford with no idea about what was going on whilst their new work colleagues had a fun a festive holiday. What I’m trying to explain, in a rather roundabout way, is that people in Bangladesh have so little exposure to foreign people and cultures that they could not even perceive that we would not have people to see over the Eid period, that we would be unable to join in, that we would be bored (we amusingly found out the word for bored does not even exist in Bangla).

 It is an over used description that other parts of the world are different, but, living in Bangladesh it is different. When you go to a bus station in the hope of travelling to a tourist site there are no people hassling you in the knowledge of where you want to go, no tourist shops selling tat or even post cards and when you visit a tourist site or museum it becomes you who are the article of interest to the locals and not the site itself. In some ways this is what travelling may have been like 50+ years ago where the shear experience of being somewhere so totally different, where there is no tourist industry, is half the reason for the trip. I’m starting to like it, along with the rabbit holes.  

The Rabbit holes of Bangladesh  

In trying to find out what people do in Bangladesh when they want to have fun and hang out with friends we have often been stumped. However, in a magazine on social life in Dhaka we stumbled across an answer. The young social crowd of Bangladesh go to ‘Lounges’. Excited we read on. Lounges seem to be the same as bars and pubs in the UK, chairs, sofas, tables, various styles of decoration but without one crucial aspect – the bar. Being an alcohol free country, these Lounges appear to be just large rooms where people go to sit, like being at home, but not. Imagine, if you can, going to your local pub or favourite club and it’s just the same except there is no longer a bar. Er? How could this be fun?  Well – Funky Latin music and plenty of energy from the clientele (although this could have been a result of the sugary coffee with liberal amounts of cinnamon topping) made it one of the best things we’ve found so far, in a strange way. This is one of the increasing number of ‘rabbit holes’ in Dhaka, places where you can ‘fall’ into, often unintentionally, escaping the chaos, concrete, traffic, smog and crowds of Dhaka and be confusingly transported to another world. Others include the small number of supermarkets – where air-con, tiled floors, English labelled food and even Heinz ketchup, the hotels and British club – more air-con, marble, cottage pie but most noticeable is how quiet the are, the constant thronging noise of Dhaka is shut out, like someone’s put the mute button on. A bizarre example is the multi-million dollar Apollo hospital where only 0.1% of the population can use the world class facilities where the rich of Bangladesh by-pass government services, buy themselves development and separate themselves from the rest of the population and its development.  

Village Life  

Last week, Joe and I went on an adventure in the hope of finding a bit of the Bangladeshi countryside, the so called ‘real Bangladesh’. After the mini adventure of finding the bus station and the correct bus we were on our way and admiring the buses interior which was covered in 1970s pattern red carpet. Just 45 minutes from Dhaka we arrived at a busy road junction and unsurely jumped on a rickshaw. Within 2 minutes we were both grinning as the noise, pollution and traffic of the highway were left behind and we silently glided through the enchanting Bangladeshi countryside. The colours were intense, the strong greens of the rice, grass and trees and the blues of the lakes, rivers and paddy fields, but most of all it was the calmness and peace that struck us.

We wondered round with a nice museum, a park and a small carnival where we braved the antique Ferris wooden wheel with its terrifying creaking wood http://youtube.com/profile?user=richrich51 . Later we strolled to an area where a small street of ancient buildings remain from the 1900s, deserted by Hindus during the 1971 war with Pakistan. It is a bizarre almost ghost town scene with the beautiful crumbling buildings covered in vines and moss giving off the appearance that they have been rescued from the ocean bed, completely different from any off the bamboo buildings in the vicinity. From here we drifted around the local village taking in a cricket game whose play failed to disturb the nearby cows who wandered between silly mid-off and short leg and a ruin of a Hindu shrine. The complete change in pace and feel from Dhaka was wonderfully extreme, we could relax, breath the air and ‘be’ without hassles. Thankfully, in 2 weeks, as much as I’m starting to enjoy Dhaka, I will go to Bandarban, a small town in the Bangladesh countryside to start my work – a rabbit hole awaits. 

Limousine for the French? Sacre blue! 

Watching rugby in South Asia is never a standard experience. First you need to find a place that has a sports channel which doesn’t just show cricket and then hope that it’ll be showing the game at 1am, whilst trying to ignore the complexities of getting across empty central Dhaka at 3am. The last three weeks of the Rugby World Cup have been an unusual event here in Bangladesh. It was a huge disappointment to not win the final and retain the trophy, but beating the Ozzies and French brought more than a smile to my face and pleasantly surprised me  (if we’d have won I don’t think I could have made sense of it having left the country after the 0-36 demolition by the Boks). After the semi final win, pouring over the internet for 3 hours reading every morsel of beautifully gushing patriotism was a true joy. Watching the games in The Bagha Club (ex-pat) was surreal. Although the best bit was perhaps, especially after beating the French, in realising that there were no taxis or CNGs to take us home at 3am, we ‘had to’ take a limousine from a 5 star hotel across Dhaka at a cost of £6. A true victory parade in South Asia.