Thanksgiving in Dhaka

I have always loved Thanksgiving.  What's not to love?  Food takes the center stage.  The last few years, I've had a great time at the Thanksgiving party hosted by an American family with long ties to Bangladesh.  But this last summer, they moved back to the states.
Luckily, Amanda's friend who works for USAID had offered to host a dinner, and generously extended the invitation to Shazzad and me.  US Government staff had the day off, so they were started at 4PM, but we said we'd be along a little later, once our workday was over.  By 5:30, we were en route.  We swung by the VERY upscale Uni-mart, which is definitely aspiring to be something like a fancy Sam's club or Target.  It even has North End coffee shop in it!  So we order a coffee while picking up starters to take with us.  Clearly there are still some kinks in their inventory--we can find salsa but no tortilla chips.

Amanda at the North End, in Uni-mart.
Dhaka's moving up!

Amanda's friend lives in a neighborhood called "Baridara DOHS".  DOHS stands for something like Dept of Officer Housing Services, and many army and ex-army families live in the neighborhood.  The three of us, plus two backpacks and handbag, plus the bag of snacks, plus my cup of coffee, pile into a rickshaw, and slowly make our way up there.  When we get there, we find the street, but find the only house addresses are three digits, and hers is just one.  I take a look at the email on Amanda's phone, and realize that we're suppose to go to Baridara, full stop.  That's where most of the embassy staff live; it's very close to where most of the embassies are and considered one of the most secure neighborhoods in Dhaka.  It's not that far away, but the fastest way involves hopping out of the rickshaw when we hit serious traffic, and then hopping through a pedestrain gate.  Then walking for a bit until we find another rickshaw.  We give him the WRONG street number, and promptly show up at a hotel.  A bit confused, we double check and realize that we have made yet another mistake.  A tip: never get out of your rickshaw until you confirm that you are where you want to be.  A rickshaw in hand is better than a jackfruit, ya know?

We are famished from the journey and dig in immediately!

Finally, we arrive!  Most folks have already finished and some are moaning in pain from overeating.  Luckily there is still food left.  A lot left.  Mainy it's traditional options--turkey, cranberries, stuffing, even brussel sprouts (which I've never seen in Dhaka before)--with a few additions like some rocking guacamole--someone had hand carried avocadoes from the US.  The pie selection is where I really get excited!  Apple, pumpkin, and.....wait for it.....chocolate pecan!

My plate looked something like this.......

Before long, I too was moaning in pain.  At least I have 364 days to recover and prepare for the next go-around.