Asalam aleikum!
I made it! I saw the dawn and sunset from the plane, watched the Town, Secretariat, Eat. Prayer. Love, and How I met your mother on the plane rides (one made me cry, another put me to sleep--you have to guess!), had some tarte tatine and a cappucino in the Dubai airport while surfing free wireless (that is one awesome airport), and slept a little bit in transit.
Dhaka is all I remembered and so much more. Time had dulled my recollection of the smells that confront you often. Traffic remains completely out of control and it's a full time job to stay out of the way of the speeding rickshaws, bikes, cars, buses, etc., which is why I realized that I never have a clue what's in various buildings. Reading the sign could be just the distraction necessary for traffic to win. But it kills me when I miss out on things like "Dominous pizza" that really crack mem.
I WALKED to the office this morning, which felt pretty awesome. It was about 4km-ish (since km is not my native distance guage) and I didn't stop to ask for directions once. I did stop a few times at small convenience stands and shops to get change for tk500 (about USD 8), and no one had it. Figuring that the rickshaw drivers would claim the same, I decided to save bargaining with them for another day.
The director here remembers me going solo to the Chittagong Hill Tracts last time I was here, so has no problem throwing me into the mix of things right away. I got to eat lunch in the staff canteen (which never happened when I visited!). I have the corner office at the moment becuase they've ordered desks that have yet to arrive, and I learned this afternoon that it often doubles as a prayer room. A new and unexpected twist to a work environment. The list of theoorganiztion's holidays has asterisks by many, with a note below that reads: "subject to the appearance of the moon and the deicsion of the authorities concerned." Imagine if you were having a party and the moon said, I'll make an appearance, but the existence of your party was contingent on it!
The second time we lost power, the internet failed to come back on. I was being hit hard with the mid-afternoon jet lag, so I headed out to get a local phone number (happy to share it), a usb modem (which appears to work much better than the ones in Kenya did for me), and then, some new clothes. If you think I hate shopping in the U.S., you ain't see nothing. I have no gauge of whether things look normal or not--I asked the sales person if I looked like, she said "nice." But not convincingly. I tried on a few very ugly ones to get a comparison point, but they were also "nice" and maybe they actually were (over the ones i myself liked). I knew that my wardrobe at home was pretty basic, had a lot of black and muted tons, etc. but here there is no option but a lot of color. My red and black kameez comes with bright red baggy pants (watch out 2011 red pants dance!), the green one comes with, wait for it, YELLOW pants. Yellow. I feel like a crazy parrot and baboon (something about baggy pants makes me think of baboons--I can't explain).
While the decision about which of the new outfits to try out tomorrow for my LAST work day of the week (we take Friday as the Muslim day of rest and then Saturday because other countries take two) is quite, quite pressing, so is sleep. Going to crawl bad into my "princess bed" (i.e. I have a malaria bed net) and curl up under the blankets; it's a chilly 60 degrees here.
I made it! I saw the dawn and sunset from the plane, watched the Town, Secretariat, Eat. Prayer. Love, and How I met your mother on the plane rides (one made me cry, another put me to sleep--you have to guess!), had some tarte tatine and a cappucino in the Dubai airport while surfing free wireless (that is one awesome airport), and slept a little bit in transit.
Dhaka is all I remembered and so much more. Time had dulled my recollection of the smells that confront you often. Traffic remains completely out of control and it's a full time job to stay out of the way of the speeding rickshaws, bikes, cars, buses, etc., which is why I realized that I never have a clue what's in various buildings. Reading the sign could be just the distraction necessary for traffic to win. But it kills me when I miss out on things like "Dominous pizza" that really crack mem.
I WALKED to the office this morning, which felt pretty awesome. It was about 4km-ish (since km is not my native distance guage) and I didn't stop to ask for directions once. I did stop a few times at small convenience stands and shops to get change for tk500 (about USD 8), and no one had it. Figuring that the rickshaw drivers would claim the same, I decided to save bargaining with them for another day.
The director here remembers me going solo to the Chittagong Hill Tracts last time I was here, so has no problem throwing me into the mix of things right away. I got to eat lunch in the staff canteen (which never happened when I visited!). I have the corner office at the moment becuase they've ordered desks that have yet to arrive, and I learned this afternoon that it often doubles as a prayer room. A new and unexpected twist to a work environment. The list of theoorganiztion's holidays has asterisks by many, with a note below that reads: "subject to the appearance of the moon and the deicsion of the authorities concerned." Imagine if you were having a party and the moon said, I'll make an appearance, but the existence of your party was contingent on it!
The second time we lost power, the internet failed to come back on. I was being hit hard with the mid-afternoon jet lag, so I headed out to get a local phone number (happy to share it), a usb modem (which appears to work much better than the ones in Kenya did for me), and then, some new clothes. If you think I hate shopping in the U.S., you ain't see nothing. I have no gauge of whether things look normal or not--I asked the sales person if I looked like, she said "nice." But not convincingly. I tried on a few very ugly ones to get a comparison point, but they were also "nice" and maybe they actually were (over the ones i myself liked). I knew that my wardrobe at home was pretty basic, had a lot of black and muted tons, etc. but here there is no option but a lot of color. My red and black kameez comes with bright red baggy pants (watch out 2011 red pants dance!), the green one comes with, wait for it, YELLOW pants. Yellow. I feel like a crazy parrot and baboon (something about baggy pants makes me think of baboons--I can't explain).
While the decision about which of the new outfits to try out tomorrow for my LAST work day of the week (we take Friday as the Muslim day of rest and then Saturday because other countries take two) is quite, quite pressing, so is sleep. Going to crawl bad into my "princess bed" (i.e. I have a malaria bed net) and curl up under the blankets; it's a chilly 60 degrees here.
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