Wednesday, 26 December 2012

Street Stickers


I decided this morning to stroll to the shops to buy a few things still left on my list for Naogaon. It is not very far by foot from my hotel and I enjoy being outside at this time of the year when the weather is absolutely gorgeous for walking (about 16 degrees Celsius). I am making the most of it now because I know that later it will be boiling hot, and then it will be dripping wet, and I will not want to step a foot out of doors if I can help it.

En route, I was accosted by this trio of street urchins, or more accurately, I let myself be approached, as really I could have kept my head down, taken a few larger and faster strides and ignored them very easily, but when I saw their little faces, I chose to relent. There was some self-interest involved as the tag 'urchins' aptly reflects their tenacious shadowing and following people skills and I may have spent the next ten minutes hurrying along and trying to shake them loose. 

Over the years I have heard stories about the street children being controlled by syndicates. These children are selling stickers, the kind that children their own age love, and this does seem to be a strategic ploy to pull on the heart strings of passers-by. I took a moment to select the stickers that I would not usually purchase in the normal course of my life (see below), and thoughts of my nieces and nephews sprang into my head. If it is a ploy, it is definitely an effective one. 

                                              

While I was crouched down picking out my ten taka purchase from each child, I was surprised when the people standing in the vicinity started scolding the children and told me that the price should only be one taka per sticker strip. The littlest boy stuck out his lip and insisted it was ten, and the girl verbally fought back and defended herself very strongly. I paid ten anyway. 


It was nice to have people looking out for my best interests, but it was also sad for the children. There are so many other places where it is strictly business and the shop keepers with no compunction at all, will do their best to part me from as many of my taka as possible. I experienced this shortly afterward while searching for a rechargeable emergency light (see above, a necessity in Naogaon where there will be regular power failures). The first shop quoted a price of Tk. 2,500. Noone nearby stepped forward to tell me that was too much, but each shop keeper adjusted the price so that it was slightly lower than the one before. By the fourth shop, they were asking me to give them a mere Tk. 1,800. Now that I have a ball-park figure, I will check out another market and see if I can do better elsewhere. 

I feel lucky to have the option to look elsewhere. I wonder what will happen to the children. I see older children selling books to car passengers and perhaps this is what is in store for them once they lose their baby faces that look so full of promise now.

I am sorry this is sounding so depressing. I like talking with the children and perhaps this will spur me to start to learn some Bangla and get involved in the local community in Naogaon in some small way. I have a friend who has asked me to set up a play ground once I am settled. I am not sure I can pull that off, but at the very least, I will look and see what my options are.












Saturday, 22 December 2012

Building up the country



This is what I can see from my hotel window, an apartment building where work has progressed very quickly over the last six weeks. Even during all of the hartals, the construction has continued at a rapid pace (it helps, of course, when workers live on site). There is a truck in the picture, which is rather unusual as trucks are banned from driving on Dhaka roads until after 8 p.m., as a result, we are often privileged to hear deliveries being made and work being conducted in the wee small hours of the night. Lucky us, last night was the noisiest night yet. It makes me long for rain again.

I took this video to show some of the activity (and the soundtrack) that takes place during daylight hours. Please note the video is hosted on Facebook and Google+, and only members will be able to view it. I tried hard to make the video accessible to all by uploading it onto my blog, but failed for two reasons: 1). no android phone, and 2). no access to YouTube in Bangladesh.

The Prime Minister ordered the major telecommunication companies to block access to YouTube following the appearance of a certain infamous video made in the U.S. in September, 2012. After reading some articles online, I discovered the ban was extended to other Google services, some of which may be employed by my blog host and which perhaps explains why I can't upload a video directly. Even though I am not an avid YouTube user, I have felt its absence in my life (can't watch this spectacular horse race for example, nor can I see any news clips or get instructions on how to cook lasagne).

It is a great shame, particularly in a country hampered by limited resources, that people are not able to enjoy its use freely. It seems like such a wasted opportunity since its use has become mainstream in the classroom and it is the cheapest and most effective medium for people to gain knowledge from the experts. It would be wonderful if the finish of the apartment building coincided with the return of YouTube in Bangladesh.

The expression, if wishes were horses, beggars would ride immediately sprung into my mind after I typed the previous sentence. No amount of wishing ever changed anything I know. I will just have to wait and see what happens however.




Thursday, 20 December 2012

Supply Chains

Workers preparing the ground for the site office
on November 27th, 2012

We are still in Dhaka, our departure to Naogaon has been delayed for another week or so, and there is another hartal today. It did not appear to me to be very well-supported however. I saw a considerable number of private cars, buses and Compressed Natural Gas (CNG) green scooters (a.k.a baby taxis or auto-rickshaws) on the road as I walked to the office for my lunch. 

Flicking through 'The Daily Star' newspaper, I came across this interview with Doctor Khondaker Golam Moazzem (who received his doctorate from one of Japan's top universities, Kyoto University) In the article, 'Development of supply chain for different sectors is important',  he discusses why Foreign Direct Investment (FDI) in Bangladesh is rather low in comparison with other countries.

He mentions the problems that investors typically face in the pre-establishment phase of a project, and they all sounded very familiar to me. It is no surprise that the problems he lists, particularly those concerned with supply chain logistics, make it extremely difficult for private companies to conduct successful ventures in Bangladesh.

New acronyms that I encountered in the article include "LDC" which stands for Least Developed Country. As I recall, Bangladesh was formerly referred to as being a developing country, but in the 21st century, the definitions have become much more precise. According to Wikipedia, Bangladesh is one of forty eight countries classified as a LDC by the United Nations (2011) because it meets the three criteria below: 
  1. Poverty (three-year average Gross National Income per capita of less than US $905, which must exceed $1,086) to leave the UN's list,
  2. Human Resource Weakness (based on indicators of nutrition, health, education and adult literacy), and
  3. Economic Vulnerability (based on instability of agricultural production, instability of exports of goods and services, economic importance of non-traditional activities, merchadise export concentration, handicap of economic smallness, and the percentage of population displaced by natural disasters).
I remembered from my Chittagong days that an "EPZ" is an Export Processing Zone. But Double Taxation Agreement (DTA) and  Bilateral Investment Treaty (BIT) were new terms for me. I had fun researching the concepts behind these acronyms. It is not a very Christmassy activity but it does keep my mind happily engaged, which in my book, is the equivalent of receiving a special Christmas gift any day.


Friday, 14 December 2012

A little background

Our home-to-be Naogaon is in the north-west. Our previous home Chittagong is in the south-east.
We had another 8-hour hartal (strike) in Bangladesh today, our third for the week. From 6 a.m. until 2 p.m., no vehicles were permitted to use the roads. I did see a few cars on the road in my area nonetheless. Not perhaps the cleverest decision in my opinion, as the aim of a hartal is to shut down the country in order to force the government to make concessions for normality to resume as soon as possible, and any vehicle which does not observe a hartal runs the very great risk of being violently compelled off the road.

Bangladeshi politics is dominated by two parties: the Awami League (AL) and the Bangladesh National Party (BNP). AL is the ruling party and its leader is the daughter of Bangabandhu (Friend of Bengal) or, in other words, 'The Father of the Nation'. The leader of the BNP is the widow of a former president. Both men were assassinated while in office; after which their families picked up the mantle for public service, and have been firmly holding it ever since.

Today's hartal (along with the previous ones this week) was called by a coalition of eighteen opposition parties to protest the arrest of a senior member of the BNP party and to demand that the government re-install a non-partisan caretaker government (CTG) system before the next election (which must be held before January 24th, 2014, or earlier if the parliament is dissolved before its term expires). The CTG system was in practice in Bangladesh from 1990, formally constitutionalised in 1996, but abolished on June 30th, 2011 when the AL passed the 15th amendment to the constitution. 

Simmering in the backdrop is the reaction to the establishment of a tribunal by the ruling party to try BNP-affiliated people accused of war crimes. These alleged crimes date back to 1971 when Bangladesh (then East Pakistan) fought to gain its independence from West Pakistan (and the time when the father of AL leader was in power). December 14th is Martyred Intellectuals' Day. Here are some photographs from TIME magazine and some more from The Guardian newspaper showing other events that occurred in 1971. The latest edition of  The Economist has a granular report on the effect the trial is having on the political and judicial milieu in the nation.

We are fast approaching the 41st anniversary of the liberation of Bangladesh, known as 'Victory Day', on December 16th, and out of respect there may be a brief respite in the hostilities, or it may be an opportunity to rally people to fight again. It could go either way.

I was reflecting upon my memories of living through hartals in Chittagong (1998-2001) this afternoon with a friend. The situation feels different now and I wondered why. I mulled it over and eventually concluded it was because the calling of hartals no longer surprised me anymore and I no longer reacted to them emotionally . I used to feel a sense of moral outrage at the senseless disruption it caused to everyday life. I don't recall the hartals were as violent as they are now, but I may have simply been unaware back then.

However, I have come to regard them as part of the political landscape. There is no doubt they are a lethal weapon.  In a country with a population the size of Bangladesh they become a scary tactic because it is ever so easy for a mob mentality to prevail, reason to flee, and people to commit heinous acts that they would never contemplate in their right minds.

How desperate must people be to support such measures when they know the risks are so high?



Tuesday, 11 December 2012

Shopping for the Naogaon apartments

Shopping list for two apartments in Naogaon: washing machines, tvs, dvd players, air conditioners, refrigerators, freezers, rice cooker, iron, heaters, gas burners, ceiling fans, lamps, beds, chests of drawers, sofas, mattresses, bed sheets, blankets, towels, pillows, toaster, evaporative cooler, wall clocks, and assorted kitchen goods (for the Japanese Construction Manager who will live on the ground floor beneath us). 

Purchasing the items on the shopping list was quite a time-consuming process, commencing with a fact-finding visit D.C.C. Market in Gulshan 1 (formerly called DIT market) to ascertain what was available. The market is a two-storied building and each floor is a tightly compressed warren of tiny shops which sell EVERYTHING. Stepping inside the market was a sensory overload as we headed to the furniture section on the first floor. (Perhaps this is deliberate? Read about tactics to make shoppers spend more here here.) It was difficult to distinguish individual pieces, because each store carries similar stock, and as much as possible is crammed into a limited area, often  stacked in piles to conserve space further. It was a noisy place, as everyone called out to me, entreating me to look at their very good quality goods, and I was soon aware that prices quoted were considerably higher than they had been back in 1998. 

The first priority was to choose the electrical white goods. Together with an administrative staff member, we collected written quotations for (and took photos) of the electrical white goods from the white goods shop in D.C.C. 1 and the fancier showrooms of Sony, Transcom, and Butterfly. A price comparison sheet was compiled and the pictures were an immense help when making the final decision. Then it was a matter of waiting for the internal company documentation to be completed, cheques to be issued, presented to the showrooms, cleared, and then for the purchased items to be delivered directly to Naogaon. I was surprised that all the major brands have showrooms all over Bangladesh now and arranging delivery to far-flung Naogaon was not a problem at all. 

Later, during the shopping sessions at the market, I was accompanied by a most accomplished negotiator from the office who took care of this very skilfully. I learned a lot from him. The key really is patience. The longer you are prepared to argue for a price, the higher the chance of said price being accepted becomes. And sometimes you do have to walk away, and start all over again with a new vendor.

It took four more excursions to D.C.C. Market in Gulshan 1 to locate, select, and bargain for a price for the remaining items. I made a solo trip and fortuitously discovered the second-hand furniture section of the market. The building resembles an organic being with a branch mushrooming off from the side of the first floor, which makes going through a narrow passage way to reach the electrical and hardware goods section feel as if you are going down a rabbit-hole. A winding stairwell to the second floor at the end of the building leads to the second-hand furniture section of the market, where prices were much friendlier to our budget. 

After this, beds and chests of drawers were next on the shopping list. The chests are divided into two parts, with one side for drawers and the other side for hanging clothes. Interestingly, the two-door wardrobes I inspected had shelves on one side, and a hanging space opposite with a drawer at the mid-way point (not good for hanging dresses). The width of hanging space was less than the chest of drawers and they were more expensive, which made me decide to do without one. Prices were agreed upon once I had decided what I desired, however the vendor reneged and wanted to charge us more, and we responded by walking away. It worked in our favour, as our next vendor gave us a fair market price, and stuck to his word. My companion was very pleased with this deal. 

The penultimate excursion involved choosing made-to-order mattresses, sheets, towels, blankets, and sofas (one of which was made-to-order). I was proud of myself for negotiating a lower price for the sofa. The vendors often like to mention that have sold X piece to Y buyer for Z price, and I was shown a receipt for the same kind of sofa issued to a well-known NGO where the price was more than  double my asking price. I am skeptical that it was really the same kind of sofa, but it does give you pause for thought. 


Our last trip was on Monday 10th to buy kitchen goods. We went deep into the heart of the market. The shop shown in the pictures above, is fronting various fruit & veg stalls, an egg stall, and near a myriad of general stores (selling canned and package grocery items). Negotiations here were not so exciting as the items are small. But I always remember my 'Chittagong saucepan incident', and knew I should remain vigilant. 

In my Chittagong days, I went shopping for kitchen goods soon after I arrived; it was an overwhelming experience, and I had left all the talking to an admin staff member. I got home and checked the prices and found I had paid Tk2,000 for a very ordinary saucepan, which was probably double its worth. I was horrified (the exchange rate was different in those days, too), and promptly took it back. To his credit, the shop owner returned my money. He probably just wanted to get rid of the foreigner with the wild look in her eyes, but he could have refused. 

We moved onto another store for crockery (see picture below) and consulting my life-saver list, I ticked off what we needed. The number of dishes was not that extensive as I commandeered some unused crockery from the company bungalow. At the end of the day, these dishes are for the ground floor apartment and not us, and I tried to make quick decisions. After heated negotiations, this time when we walked away, we walked back again because the difference was too small to be a deal-breaker, our purchases were wrapped and packed in a box and carried to our waiting car. 


Our final purchase was my favourite find: a portable evaporative air-cooler. I have not seen anything like it in the shops before and I am hopeful it will be effective in our kitchen. (In Bangladesh, the government issues permits for air conditioners and our landlord is only able to receive two permits for each floor.)

All shopping list items, as well as two boxes of food and one treadmill for personal use were loaded onto a truck on Monday night. Due to a truck ban during the day, the truck could not be loaded until after 8pm. It was a big job, but now everything is on its way to Naogaon, accompanied by Peter (who will cook for the CM and help clean both apartments). 

With this task out of the way and knowing we have the essentials for a basic set up, I am beginning to feel excited about moving to Naogaon. Not long now.


Sunday, 9 December 2012

Salwar Kameez

  

The best thing about living in Bangladesh is wearing shalwar kameez (sometimes spelt salwar kameez). 'Shalwar' refers to the loose, baggy trousers, and 'kameez' refers to the tunic worn over the top of the shalwar. The scarf is called a 'dupatta'. 

In Bangladesh it is regarded as a Pakistani outfit, and many mature women prefer to wear a sari which is considered more truly Bangladeshi. Although I have noticed in the streets there has been a shift with more women of all ages embracing the ensemble. Now, I was a bit of a late bloomer and initally resisted wearing one during my early Chittagong days (as a foreigner I felt self-conscious). But with the help of some friends, I took the leap; and grew to love their unique colours, patterns, and embroidery. I also wore a sari to several very memorable weddings, but for everyday wear, the SK wins hands down.

My first priority upon re-entry was to go to Aarong (a fair trade organisation established to revive and promote Bangladeshi traditional handicrafts) and treat myself to some new SKs. I regretfully recalled some rather lovely SKs I had bequeathed to friends when I left Chittagong, although I was not sad for long as I discovered to my surprise, the shalwar kameez as I knew it, was no more, and all my old SKs would be totally unfashionable in 2012.

It is now de rigueur to wear pants with a straight leg, or a churidar (trousers fitted very closely to the shin), or even, shock and horror, it is ok to wear capri pants. It used to be a huge no-no for a woman to reveal her ankles in public. We could show our arms and midriffs, but not our ankles. I was quite stunned (and I may have even gasped) when I saw for the first time, a woman wearing this latest fashionable length. In contrast, the kameez has become even longer, and now almost reaches to the knee. It doesn't make much sense to me, and I can't (yet) appreciate it as an aesthetic addition. 

I overcame my feelings of sartorial shock and settled on several lovely SKs nevertheless. I love the hand embroidery on the SK I am wearing in the photograph above. This is a nakshi kantha design. 'Nakshi' refers to the artistic patterns and 'kantha' refers to a quilt. These designs have been traditionally used to decorate quilts but in recent years they have been incorporated as designs in clothing as well. The turquoise stitching encircles small mirrors and sequins have also been used to highlight the cross in the centre. I am in awe of the skill it takes to complete all of these designs. 

I am not alone.The young woman who served me at Aarong commented it was very beautiful and patted it reverentially as she carefully folded it and handed it to me. 






Friday, 7 December 2012

A weighty matter



Walking along Madani Avenue early this afternoon on my way to lunch with Saburo, I noticed a young man sitting by the side of the road with a set of bathroom scales in front of him. I hurried by him but it crossed my mind that I'd been staying in a hotel for five weeks. Perhaps it would be a good time to avail of this kind of service?

Postprandially, I looked again for the owner of the scales; however, he was nowhere to be seen. Most likely he was enjoying his own lunch by now. Drat! Friday being the weekend here, there are few people around, and this is probably the only time when I might ever have the courage to weigh myself in public. As a good friend always says, oh well....





























Thursday, 6 December 2012

Seen today from my car window



I spotted this picture of an elderly gentleman, which had been spray painted on the temporary fence enclosing a construction site for a large building on Gulshan Avenue, this afternoon while I was stuck in traffic. (There was also another picture of a man of advanced years painted on the same section of fence, but the car moved forward before I was camera-ready). It struck me as an odd choice of adornment for the location, and I was curious.

My driver told me they were famous writers, which made me speculate about the nature of their writings. Left to itself and with nothing better to do, my imagination ran riot with various scenarios. Were they intended to send some kind of political message? Or were they an  attempt to inspire patriotic pride in the citizens of the capital? Or were they simply randomly used to beautify the surroundings?

My driver could not provide me with any more details about the writer. I remained intrigued by these gentlemen and I even asked a friend later about them.  She reeled off a multitude of names, but did not have any explanation regarding their present location. Sadly but not surprisingly, the names did not remain with me for very long after our conversation, and my curiousity unabated, I came home and worked out how to search for information about a picture on Google images.

I was not successful but all was not lost, as the list of similar images generated here made for entertaining viewing. Of course, I could easily go downstairs to the reception desk in my hotel and ask the staff for a name, but why ruin the fun of a mystery?

Tuesday, 4 December 2012

Roses in the park



Today a hartal was called by the political party Bangladesh Jamaat-e-Islami.  Dhaka newspapers reported the reasons for it in this article, and the events that happened during it here. 

When we lived in Chittagong, we experienced a number of hartals: Saburo would have to leave home early to take two rickshaws to get to the airport site, while I would have to cancel the English classes at the British Council. I remember walking from Khulshi to the Hotel Agrabad to go for a swim with friends. I never encountered any trouble back then. Here also, it feels relatively safe (never say never) as we are staying in a very secure neighbourhood where most of the embassies in Dhaka are located. It is far from the area where political rallies are held, and there is a visible police presence to keep 'law and order'.

When I walked to the office for lunch today, the streets of Baridhara were a little quieter with few cars on the road. I felt sorry for the rickshaw drivers as they were not picking up many passengers. Later in the afternoon, I decided to go for a walk along Park Road, and discovered that there really was a park here. The Baridhara Park with its roses, the mosque, and many, many women with headscarves and burqas appeared suddenly like an Arabian oasis of greenery in front of my eyes. 

I entered the park and quite enjoyed my walk. It is infinitely better to be surrounded by trees than being stuck in horrendous traffic along Gulshan Avenue and being bombarded by children trying to sell you books or flowers, or having tragically disabled people come up to the window and ask for money, or being approached by women with their babies beseeching me for a little something. I resort to closing my eyes and pretending to sleep when the clambering at the car windows gets too much for me. 

Powering around the track on my own two legs was quite exhilarating in comparison to being cooped up in a car. I must go back again soon, and not just wait for the next hartal before I make my next visit. I really do hope we don't see too many more hartals before the next general Bangladeshi election which must be held before, or by January 24, 2014. It makes life difficult on a personal level, and must be so very detrimental to the progress of Bangladesh.





Monday, 3 December 2012

More Christmas trees, and a 'jogging' park


I happened upon these two larrikins the other day because I was early to meet a friend whose home is in the vicinity of the quaintly named, "Gulshan Ladies Park"; and I  decided to walk around the jogging track to pass the time. When I saw the miniature fir trees these smiling boys were handling, I stopped short my perambulation to take a closer look. If only I had somewhere to display a tree this year, I would have been rather tempted to acquire one for myself!

I did not encounter any joggers in the park during the rest of my circuit, although I did spot a number of young couples sitting on benches. At the first bench I observed a woman fully covered by black garments sitting next a man, but with a good and careful half-a-metre distance between them. Whereas, further along I sighted a couple casually slumped against each other with arms entwined. In comparison, the walkers on the 'jogging track' tended to be either past the canoodling stage  (grandparents), or not yet there (their grandchildren companions). 

Happy (and grateful) that I did not fall into either of these groups, I sped around the rest of the track to greet my friend, who by now, was waiting for me by the gate.

Sunday, 2 December 2012

A Bangladeshi Christmas scene

 

I came across my first Christmas tree in Bangladesh this year in an unexpected place; the lobby of Saburo's office building. I like the incongruous juxtaposition of the tree with the terracotta wall art which depicts a traditional Bengal rural landscape.  Then, of course, I wanted to learn more about this unique art form, and was lucky enough to locate this informative article:

Saturday, 1 December 2012

My debut

Saburo's office is located
in this area of Gulshan, Dhaka.





It's a new month, and I am trying something new. I like sharing my photos of what I see in Asia with family and friends; and this seems to be the best way to do it. Hope you enjoy the view of my journey!                    
                                                

                                                  Jodi