Nepal - An Ancient Land

Well Madam and I (the TS) went off for a wee week to Nepal.  Well It is about an hour from Dhaka and if you are that close then why not.  The plan was to do some sightseeing, chillax and mainly get a change of scene.  I had been 3 months in Dhaka and even though the place has a certain charm with or without hartals etc – I had lost my sense of humour.  Of course Madam had already had respite when I was posted A.I.D.

Anyhow – the adventure began by taking the local national air carrier – supposedly for intrepid people only.  Allegedly they are never on time, never fly etc etc etc.  Well I can honestly say we left on time and arrived back on time, and the service was'ne that bad.  I think the effect of a newly appointed UK CEO who had learnt his time at BA, may have had an influence.  Who knows.  Mind you as part of the in-flight catering, I am still at a loss what the dessert was – there and back!  Any suggestions please let me know.

Annapurna Hills

Now the plan was to stay a few days in Kathmandu with a Diplomatic Chum (DC) of Madam’s then head off to Pokhara at the foot of the Annapurna hills beside Lake Phewa.  The DC lived in Patan, south of Kathmandu, which in fact was a blessing, as we did venture into the centre Ktm, to find out it was a bit like Dhaka in some ways.  Add the additional complexity of an interim government initiative of widening every road in the place irrespective whether there is a building there or not and then forget to complete the process.  It beats small and large holes dotted about the roads in Dhaka, which are now being stuffed with branches, so when they fill up with water, they give a slight indication of where you may disappear.  In Nepal - they just bulldozed the road completely. 

Kathmandu

So on the first few hours of arriving in country DC and Madam were swapping the minutiae of various work things – so much for a holiday.  There was a surreal moment during the week when I was sitting between them whilst they were swapping emails and discussing what their replies would be back to HQ.  We were supposed to be watching a DVD, which I then duly chose.  I can honestly it say it wasn't brilliant, but hey that that will teach them!

So what did we see I hear you cry.  Well there are 3 ancient cities, Kathmandu, Patan and Bhaktapur.  Each of them built to compete with each other and prevent power being centralised so to speak.  We were spoilt.  If you have a chance to go to Nepal – forget the Kathmandu Durbar Square.  It looks and feels impressive, but when you see Patan then Bhaktapur, then Ktm is the poorer cousin. 

Patan

At the Patan museum, was the best Nepali Thali I had the whole week – worth it.  Beer – yes please.  You can walk into a restaurant or café in Nepal and order alcohol.  After extensive research the whole week, my opinion is that coming first is Gorkha, followed by Everest, then Kathmandu and finally Nepal Ice.  Well one did have to research properly to ensure whether different locations and environmental conditions affected the beer or not.

In terms of public transport – there isn’t any really.  There are the usual small buses held together by who knows what, but the main mode of transport is either motorbikes or taxis.  Now I use the word lightly when I say taxi.  Yes they do transport from A to B and charge you for the pleasure (again that’s too strong a word – pleasure), but you get there.  One taxi we encountered was actually missing a dashboard, most of the interior fittings and probably leaked more fuel than it actually consumed.  In addition it was started with a screwdriver stuck in the ignition, and I hadn’t even mentioned the bodywork (or lack of it) – Madam was no chuffed.  I did feel slight sorry for them with the state of the roads, where a 4x4 would be more appropriate rather than something resembling an 1980’s small Ford Fiesta in good condition never mind any other state.

Lake Phewa

Pokhara was an all together a different experience.  The heart of adventure land, was this chilled out town with fabby food nestled on the edge of Lake Phewa.  I can see Madam and I coming back here, even if it is to do some trekking.  During out time in Pokhara it was  the Hindu festival of Holi.  Everybody throws paint at each other and it is essentially a festival and celebration of colour to mark the start of spring.  It was amusing walking down the street to see dogs covered in pink spots, or cows (yes cows and bulls) ambling down the road with some warlike markings in fluorescent paint.  It was the first time I have ever seen the full length of main road looking like a surreal smudged rainbow.

Baggage Claim

The domestic airport to get too Pokhara or Everest was a ramshackle of buildings.  When coming back from Pkh the bus that picked us up from the airplane had a trailer attached to it for the luggage.  It then took us to a side gate of the airfield where there was a low table by which they piled up the luggage for you to collect – who says there is no customer service.  The one thing that struck me about the airport, was that it must be a massive buzz in the place when all the parties come to do trekking and climb Everest at the height of the season Oct-Jan.  I think it would be something worth experiencing.

Our flight to Everest was cancelled due to cloud.  Next time.  The end of the week saw yours truly attending an informal dinner with Madam and the DC who had some VIP’s in town.  The only consolation was sitting on a terrace looking at the hills as the sun set.  What was talked about – who knows.  I was sitting beside a guy who came out of semi-retirement to help the UN in Nepal and who had been in Dhaka just after the liberation war in the early 70’s – interesting stuff and small world!

Foxy & Snowy

So memories from Nepal – well having to put a jumper on in the evening – you do miss that readers.  Staying with a really nice and hospitable DC who has two mad dogs (Snowy and Foxy) and seeing / hearing about the reality and specialness of an ancient land.  Roll on next time.

Lake Phewa at Sunset

The Uneasy Calm

Well readers this has been an odd week.  It started with the usual diatribe from political parties slugging it out supported with a two day hartal to start with and further ones scheduled in the week.  Of course there were regrettably deaths, violence and the general mayhem.  It was odd walking home on Sunday eve (our Monday, in case you had forgotten) down empty streets with a gusty wind blowing the dust around.  It was a bit like walking into Dodge city.  The only thing missing would have been some tumbleweed floating past, or because it is Dhaka, a rickshaw freewheeling past with no rider.

Why the hartals?  Pretty easy to explain.  The BNP held a rally and coincidentally the police raided the headquarters, arrested the various leaders and allegedly found 'cocktails'.  These are not the usual martini's or wallbangers, which on hearing cocktails, my ears pricked up, but sadly mistaken.  No these were Molotov cocktails / bomblets.  Anyhow the BNP demanded their leaders release which didn't happen and low and behold more hartals.  Supposedly when the BNP were in power they did the same to the opposition - the Awami league - Tit for tat then.  That's politics in Bangladesh  for you readers.

Anyhow the rhetoric was ramping up along with the temperature and humidity and there was definitely an air of something about to happen or could kick off.  Not immediately but definitely in the future.  However, regrettably but thankfully the country's President Zillur Rahman died and was laid to rest today. He'd had a long illness which created complications just over a week ago resulting him to seek treatment in Singapore where he died on Wednesday.

His death resulted in defusing the situation, the BNP postponing their latest hartal and allowing the country to show unity.  The irony is that the President, one for getting people to talk to each other without bloodshed, lying in state meant that the two political leaders had to be in the same room together to pay their respects - of course they never talked to each other.  The awful thing is that the BNP have never sat in the parliament and acted like an opposition party.  So democracy in action - maybe not.  Supposedly there was a recent poll and the two parties are neck and neck which is quite concerning.  No doubt more to come on that one in the future.

However when the President died there was three days of national mourning announced with Thursday, the return of the body, a national holiday.  Not sure on what to expect, all proposed golfing was cancelled.  It was odd - there was a calmness to Dhaka.  At present I am still not sure whether people cared or not, knew he was or wasn't etc etc.  but on TV, you could see people were out in force to pay their respects.

Next week will be the start of something new and the process to elect a new President underway.  Whether that will maintain the defused situation or the President's passing just merely pressed the pause button for the status quo to return next week - who knows.  Just now though there is, in Dhaka, an uneasy calm.

A.I.D.

Well readers last week I was A.I.D. - yes you have got it in one - Abandoned in Dhaka.  Madam has decided to head back home partly to attend granny's 105th birthday but also have a wee jolly.  Yours truly the TS, was A.I.D. for a week.  When this was quietly pointed out to Madam prior to her going (I am never one to make a fuss), she quickly responded, if you want to come we will just book flights.  Let's just say, this was never asked from the outset by Madam when she booked her flights some weeks ago!  Her response was ' I didn't think you wanted to come'.

I can tell you readers, all my other fellow TS's in the dip community were horrified!!! However life went on and what a busy week it was.  In between trying to fit in a game of golf, some tennis lessons, which I can honestly say is slowly improving, even to the extent that the backhand is progressing more quickly than the forehand (go figure) and my serves actually hitting the box, a future champion is in the making me thinks - watch out Andy Murray old bean.

Life was actually more fraught and frenetic in reality.  There was the liaising with contractors as to how they could install more air conditioning and electrical sockets - supposedly not an easy task - we will see on that one.  Actually as I am writing this, they are supposed to be here causing chaos, but of course in true Dhaka style - no show.  The concept of customer care in regards to time keeping and actually delivering what you require is somewhat wanting.  Anyhow, after realising satellite TV can't be installed (not allowed to put dishes on the side of the building - might spoil the look.  My response - look around Dhaka.  They also can't place them on the roof - that's someones penthouse), even after chasing the respective people for weeks, the cable TV man came.  Straightforward?  NO!

At first it took them two engineers to work out how to tune the tele - they didn't succeed - I did it.  Then once they installed it one room, they tried to do it in room two,  the most important one ladies and gentlemen - the TV room.  After two days of faffing, they have declared that they think the cable in the wall is damaged and it is now back to the landlord / developer for their resolution - humph.

Add to that a leaking pipe in one of the bedrooms due to some leaky gate valve and the cleaner (or known as bearer) asking for a pay rise and a loan in the same week -  it was certainly not dull.  Madam of course oblivious to it all and none the wiser.  On her return, there was the usual feint acknowledgement of the various incidents and then accordingly dismissed.  So if you are a fellow TS reading this - wait till you get A.I.D. - my sympathy!

PS - Happy Commonwealth Day today

PPS - being a Glaswegian, today is also very special.  Traditionally on Commonwealth Day, the Queen's Baton is handed to the host nation for the relay which will visit all Commonwealth countries before it finally arrives at the Commonwealth Games opening ceremony, which if course will take place in Glasgow 2014.  Today the international route will be announced - exciting!

More information about the Commonwealth and the Day

Oddball Life

Well the TS has been snapping so to speak.  I did think about taking picturesque reportage style photographs and then I asked myself why?!  Why not show the readers of oddball life in Dhaka.  Below is a wee snapshot.

Construction  - A Big Hole

Construction  - Foundation Preparation

Construction  - Foundation Preparation

The Barbers - Cut and Shave Anyone?
Less than £5 for the package.

Somone Using Their Initiative and Directing Traffic

A Typical Traffic Jam

Building A Marquee

A Rickshaw Pitstop

 

Someone Protecting Their Self From the Rain

A View from Banani Bridge

 The Nordic Club Cinnamon Roll

Its All Gone Green

Well readers, you won't believe it but it actually rained yesterday!  Now it was a bit of a shock on two accounts - firstly that it rained at all which was completely unexpected and secondly coming from a wee city in Scotland - Glasgow, nicknamed Raintown, immortalised in a classic Deacon Blue song - I realised I miss the rain!

Now OK, I will hold my hands up and say the rain was warm - not the usual typical cold dreich (pronounced dreeech) drizzle that you would get back home, therefore making the experience that more pleasing.  What was amazing was (a) this was the first time that it had rained since I had arrived in country  i.e. early November 2012 and secondly (b) the rain washed the dust that had accumulated on the trees, bushes etc and suddenly and the place looked green.  Now at this stage I do not mean we have been invaded a marauding groups of Celtic fans - I mean the place looked fresh and somewhere you would like living.

The thing supposedly about the rain out here, is that when it rains, it comes with full force for a short period of time each day flooding the streets.  When walking about the place you wonder why the pavements in some paces are at least 2 feet high - well because of the rain!  It has been known that the rain has flooded the lakes in Dhaka affecting not just the roads, but embassies, missions and generally business from taking place.  Wellington boots become the norm here in the summer.  Deja Vu there readers - rain in the summer!

One scary piece of advice that I was issued with by a local last week, was when it rains don't walk about.  Now being an intrepid TS I was quite dismissive until I heard the reason why.  Due to the number of holes in Dhaka, and they are deep.  Deep enough either to lose a person or in some cases big and deep enough to lose a car.  Walking was in-advisable due to the holes filling up and potentially falling into one encountering who knows what that could be in the water or just in fact floating there.  Must remember a big stick when it rains.

Anyhow, the rain that fell today was light and long enough to wash the place in a sort of way.  The only problem all the muck the rain washed off the trees went onto our car and left it with a mottled mosaic pattern - not chuffed.  Of course Madam never noticed!  So apart from sprinkling the place with colour, the sound and smell of the rain made me realise I missed it.  I probably won't be saying that in a few weeks time - ha!

The 13th February!

The 13th February is an auspicious date in anyone's calendar - especially men!  It is the day before Valentine's day.  The realisation that irrespective of what their beloved says like -  'don't get caught up in the commercialism darling' or 'we will do something later' or even 'look darling, you don't need to get me anything', is in fact a warning shot.  It is 'gentle' reminder to (a) don't forget (b) don't believe anything they have just told you! and (c) don't forget!!!!

Now your TS has prepared for this occasion - oh yes!  I mean I need an easy life, and if that means planning ahead - well so be it.  Mind you there is no point buying any flowers - we have no vases!  But what I do find odd slightly, is the amount of stuff advertising Valentines Day .  I just didn't realise that they went in for that kind of thing here in Dhaka.  Maybe it is just a ruse to get all expats to spend more cash.

In Bangladeshi terms, the 13th February is also an auspicious day  - the start of spring!  Now I know the 'proper' start of spring in the northern hemisphere is the vernal equinox (20 March 2013), but here in Bangladesh they have six seasons: Grisha (summer), Barsha (rainy), Sarat (early autumn), Hemonto(autumn), Shhet (winter), Boshonto (spring) and each season appears with it's own beauty, color, sign and sound.

Boshonto utshab is a traditional festival to welcome the spring with allegedly each year thousands of people coming to Dhaka to enjoy a big, colorful celebration with folk dances,  music, rallies etc.  That is of course there are no hartals or they are stuck in traffic for the next day or so.

So when Madam came home last night in a fashion panic attack I was confused to say the least.  Her driver had informed her that the 13th was the start of spring and women should wear something yellow or green.  Now this is where Madam was fretting - not because she didn't have anything to wear.  Trust me she does - I emptied all the boxes that came out of storage and filled a number of wardrobes.  

No, traditionally Bangladeshi people celebrate this occasion wearing yellow color dresses, called "bashoti rang",caring flower on their hands, wearing Marygold flower ornaments, as well as singing spring songs - all very happy if you ask me. Some people even paint their faces to make the celebration more interesting.   So in relation to Madam, she was more worried about how awful she looks in yellow and could she get away with never mind the face painting.  The things I endure as a TS!

So readers when the 13th February comes about, it isn't purely a late reminder to do what you should have done for the following day.  It is also the start of spring in Bangladesh!

The Shahbag Conflict Question

An interesting phenomena is taking place in Dhaka and even in surrounding Bangladesh.  An apolitical demonstration.  

The activists are calling for the death penalty of Abdul Quader Mollah who was convicted of various atrocities and sentenced to life at the international war crimes tribunal.  The public were outraged as the first person to be convicted (Abul Kalam Azad) was sentenced to death.  At this moment he has left the country or in hiding.

The tribunal was set up in 1973 to prosecute those who caused atrocities in the Liberation War of 1971.

Irrespective of politicians, political parties, the youth of Bangladesh have used social media to harness support, set up camp in Shahbag, an intersection at the heart of Dhaka, near the university campus, and stage a small sit-in.  Their only demand - capital punishment for Abdul Quader Mollah.   

Last Friday when organisers called a rally, the sit in (already a week old by this point) attracted somewhere between 100,000 - 500,000 people in a family friendly violent free demonstration who exercised their democratic right of free speech.  Even the Bangladeshi cricket team turned up to support them.  This is where the conflict is.

A country which has prided itself on setting up a democracy and believes that the verdict 'sends out a strong message that Bangladesh has now evolved as a society' - please read statement from Bangladeshi Foreign Minister to foreign diplomats - can they reconcile the evolution of the country with the fact that the public want capital punishment?

What is more interesting that the movement has not aligned itself with any political party (a headache for the party's as they don't know how to respond and cannot relate to the group), the organisers are predominately women and ultimately the use of social media and satellite news is organising and garnering support.  Some have even started to compare it with the demonstration in Egypt at Tahrir Square.

Some say, the movement do have an opportunity by representing the youth of Bangladesh as all current politicians are in the late fifties and older.  The question is do they want to or just demand one thing - capital punishment which has been abolished by most societies that have evolved.  They want the wider world to support them, but they can't because of their demand.

The Shahbag Conflict Question is a unique and confusing question which apart from the Bangladeshi political elite taking notice, it has also raised other questions about what is democracy and its societal evolution.  Watch this space readers.  This will run and run ...

Hartal Today - Must be Tuesday!

Well readers there is a nationwide hartal today – therefore it must be a Tuesday.  They always seem to happen on a Tuesday - hey ho.  Now just to recap for you, a Tuesday is a Wednesday and hence it is the middle of the week out here.  A Saturday is the equivalent of our Sunday, making our Sunday a Monday – follow?.  So a Tuesday is half way through the week, your Wednesday our Thursday – easy.  So when you are all at work on a Friday we are enjoying the equivalent of a Saturday.  It is pretty straightforward me thinks.  Now, another ‘great’ day for a hartal is a Thursday which is our Friday.

A hartal on a Friday or Thursday, depending on which parlance you want to communicate in, is a bit naughty as more often or not it is a half day hartal which conveniently ends just after lunch and thus no point going into work – long weekend – hurrah!  From my limited time here ensconced as your roving Dhaka TS, the hartal wheeze is a nice way to have a day off in the middle of the week at the golf course – ask the garment sector expats who will be teeing off around lunchtime at Kurmitola.  Yep, it is that predictable.  Shame their golf isn’t.

So what is a hartal and why was this one called you ask?  Its that kind of burning question which itches away at you until your Dhaka TS reveals all.  Well a hartal is a strike basically and can either be local, regional or national.  It's normally called by a political party to emphasise some issue or make a stance on something which they don’t like of course.  More often or not it is only one party calling it with the others jumping on the back of it so they can mump their gums as well.  The reason this is quite clever, associated around hartals are demonstrations which lead to violence and general chaos and anarchy.  The parties that didn’t call the hartal, but are using it for their own purpose, have the smug satisfaction they are not responsible for the unrest and can denounce it accordingly.  So this particular one was called by the Jamaat-e-Islami party in response to the verdict expected on Tuesday from the war crimes tribunal on one of their members - their leader no less - of atrocities he allegedly carried out during the war of independence in 1971.  Really!

Let me tell you readers there is chaos, pre, during and post hartals.  If you pick up the newspaper today, there will be headlines which give the impression the country has fallen into anarchy, the government has fallen, students have taken control and the place is generally crumbling around us.  Well actually in fact it is crumbling, due to the shoddy construction, but that’s a different issue.  On the contrary, the country is growing around 6% per annum and is doing quite nicely in some areas, but you know what they say about first impressions an a’ that. 

At the weekend, Madam and I where at a small soiree with various economists there.  Madam was in heaven, being an economist herself – mind you don’t ask her to do any arithmetic when shopping, as you will have an analysis of the figures applied to various theoretical models, only to be given the wrong answer anyway.  Anyhow, when approached on the issue of hartals as part of the country’s business plan so to speak, they commented that a percentage or so had already been factored in for the coming year and thus the projection figures were more realistic for growth, debt etc – smart cookies.  But it does show that the business of politics is actually harming business doing business and ultimately the country’s business, which in the end affects people doing the business.

So what about the TS?  Now I know you are all worried about the TS and his safety with all these hartals.  Well don’t fear readers as currently I am sitting in a coffee shop, enjoying the delights of a civilised coffee (café culture in Dhaka, no less) and pondering whether the chocolate brownie or pumpkin muffin is required.  Ahh….it must be Tuesday!

All Gone Deja Vu

This has been a weekend of firsts and 'what not again'.  It all started in fine style by attending a Burns Supper on Friday night.  Now before you think I am off my trolley and flying back to the UK to celebrate the life and works of Scotland's National Bard ('poet' for youz sassenachs) Robert Burns, though stranger things have happened, here in Dhaka the Caledonian Society was holding their own Burns Supper with haggis and everything!  My first and the start of deja vu.

As you will recall, November 2012 saw me attend my first St Andrews Day Caledonian Ball in Dhaka, which had all the trimmings, piper, ceilidh band (a Scottish country dance) and food to match.  There I was dressed in my kilt wheeking around the dance floor doing my fantastic Gay Gordon (its a dance readers - only a dance) and completely forgetting I was over 5000 miles away from my home shore.  Madam wasn't there, hence wheeking was possible.  Wind forward two months and there I am in my trews this time doing it all over again (well, Madam was present - less wheeking).  The difference this time, it was held outside under a marquee, hence not wearing the kilt in case the mosquitos fancied a party in the nether regions - I am Scotsman.

Now being one of the few Scots in Dhaka, I was asked whether I could read a Burns poem.  Now the person doing the asking was a Dundonian British Bangladeshi (confused in other words), so yours truly, had to consider the consequences of saying no ... and of course I was delighted.  What shall I read?  There will be an international audience so it most likely will be intelligible anyway.  

It was easy - A Man's A Man For A' That.  A poem which could be described as an anthem for civil liberty and freedom of everyone, something which could be applied to Bangladesh who try and survive and somehow get their way out of poverty whilst developing a country for the future - something dear to Robert Burns's heart.  Of course, there was more ceilidh dancing, more constrained wheeking and more whisky - deja vu number two.


Now if that wasn't all mad enough, the following day was the start of the 6 nations rugby with Scotland taking on England for the Calcutta Cup.  Nerve-racking stuff - deja vu number 3.  It was becoming more serious, when the likely hotspots of Dhaka decided not to show the game, but in the end, it turned out all right.  Now the TS taking his ceremonial diplomatic duties responsibly and always wanting to educate commonwealth and foreign heathens about the finer points of Scottish rugby, there I was dressed in my rugby shirt wearing my kilt and using half a can of mosee spray - taking precautions no less, to cheer on the mighty blues.  All I can say it was a surreal experience, never mind in the bar, just walking down the street with all the rickshaw drivers looking on.  They obviously recognised a fine figure of a man wearing a kilt! Or something like that.

Anyhow the 'what not again' spoilt the deja vu (or merely added to it) weekend - Scotland were robbed and lost again.  Will there be anymore dej vu weekends you cry?  Well watch this space as the TS as a plan.....!  In the meantime I will be decked out and in the bar on match days for the next few weeks, no doubt encountering more deja vu Scottish rugby moments, or more probably drowning my sorrows.

The Dhaka Symphony

The Call to Prayer

There I was readers lying there at 5.30 this morning pondering my navel as an old music school teacher would say to me.  Well it was a music class and there was only so much of trying to play the recorder anyone could do before anything became more or less interesting instead.  Anyhow at 5.30 am there is the morning call for prayer and it struck me - do all cities have their own noise?  There own very sound that is unique to them and could be described as their own heartbeat?

Now being located close to the central mosque in Gulshan, means we are in direct 'firing' line for all the call to prayers - yes there are more than one and depending on which mosque it could range from four to seven.  Yes I would like to point out that Madam failed to notice said mosque when she was doing the apartment recce!  Thankfully the call is short and you can nod back off to sleep.

However this morning I noticed in the distance all the other calls from the other mosques and how they were all uniquely different, never mind sounding different and being of a variety lengths.  A short while later there was the occasional bell ringing from rickshaws before the noise built up into rush hour.  With all this in mind and my inner classical musician eagerly waiting to write his first symphony the TS, yours truly indeed reckons he got it written by morning coffee today.  

Here's how it goes:

Movement 1 (Allegro) - Dhaka Awakens

Starts off slow with the call to prayers starting off one by one (in the right key of course) followed by the jingly bells and toots form the Tuk-Tuks.  This then builds up into a fast pace with horns from the cars, bells, toots and generally the fast pace of life of Dhaka.  People missing cars, cars missing cars, cars missing rickshaws etc  People selling tupperware, books (latest edition allegedly, cheaper than you can get elsewhere), maps and even tea towels.  This culminates in a crescendo of sorts to end with the call to prayer (mid-morning one - in the right key and in harmony) and life has begun in Dhaka.

Movement 2 (Adagio) - Life Takes Place
This movement slower to the first, but focusing on the people of Dhaka as they go about their business whilst the bells, toots and horns still take place but are less frenetic.  Again ending with a call to prayer (well it is after lunch you know).

Movement 3 (Scherzo) - The Madness Begins
Starting with the late afternoon call to prayer, the traffic madness begins as the noise is worse than before as everybody is up and contributing to the chaos.  The traffic gets stuck and suddenly a 30 min journey becomes two hours.  The queue of rickshaws looking for fares never mind clogging up the streets is worse at this time.  Again it ends with the call to prayer - early evening.

Movement 4 (Allegro) - Dhaka Slows
The movement starts fast and ends calmly as the day has finished and all the noise subsides ending with a toot toot and the final bell ending the symphony.

So readers - what do you think?  Any takers?  Anyone willing to give a grant to investigate it further?

Only in Dhaka - Rooftop Neon Party

Is that the Doc in the foreground?

Had a surreal moment on Friday night readers.  When normally i would be regaled in my usual tartan attending a Burns Supper (it was the Bard's birthday after all), there I was standing on a rooftop, with the place dressed fantastically in chiffon and lights, and me in my hi-viz vest dancing away at rooftop neon party!  It was a going away party for two dip chums - well that's what they said.


It was a surreal moment with many pushing the boat and wearing something neon.  Even the Doctor was dressed in his day-glo tracksuit which you would more likely see a groom wearing in the east end of Glasgow..  I think someone should check whether he is on medication as the most concerning thing was not that he walked the streets in it and danced around like a loon , but more concerningly he possessed or even got it shipped across from over 5000 miles away from Bonnie Scotland.  They obviously saw him coming in that shop!

What was more surreal, that everyone at the party thought this was normal and only expected such a thing to take place in Dhaka.  One person who will be leaving for other shores in the year stated that Dhaka has a unique charm and madness which is just not replicated elsewhere.  Well readers, on that note who knows what the TS will be attending.  Watch this space....

Reality Starts - Living in Dhaka

Well the day has finally arrived and Madam and I will be moving into the new pad.  I say 'new' loosely as it has been deconstructed, remodelled and rewired.  As well as being a TS (Trailing Spouse), I am now an interior designer, lurve choosing soft furnishings, expert packer of all things (this being the third time we have moved in less than 3 months) and generally the point of contact for all things 'homemaking'.  One concern I do have is that it is actually curtailing the golf activity and going for a swim (honestly - not missing that one - that's exercise), but hopefully normal service shall resume shortly - cannae wait.

Now Madam was running true to form - nothing like consistency and continuity for the TS.  Madam was going away on a business trip - convenient!  I did raise a smile when the drive to the business trip was allegedly curtailed by a small riot and some tear gas - excuses!  Nothing in the press...  Anyhow it was up to yours truly to pack our life - 4 suitcases and a tonne of food.  The move was as painless as can be.  The problem was going to be the following day - the arrival of the heavy baggage.

Day 2 of the move saw 71 boxes of various shapes and sizes magically congregate in the lounge like a pyramid for some god.  Where does one start?  The labels on the box didn't actually match the contents.  The packers offered to unpack which I quickly declined.  I mean I hadn't a clue where I was putting the stuff, so why should I have 6 people asking me in a foreign language where it was going.  On top of that, there were a range of boxes containing crockery etc which follows the Head of Office.  Madam has another thing coming if she thinks I am cooking for 50 people!

What was quickly realised on opening the boxes, was the lack of personal ornaments / object d'art / curios.  Yep the packing was too practical in Glasgow and all that kind of stuff has been left there - typical.  Never mind Madam has now got it into her head that 'we' can go out and buy more stuff - mmmmmm.

So of course when Madam arrived back home, it was mostly all done - what a surprise!  People kept saying it must be like Christmas again, finding stuff you had forgotten you had packed and there it was etc etc.  I look at as a huge sigh of relief - life in Dhaka can actually start now and let reality set in!

PS Just realised a big problem - left the corkscrew in the UK.  It is a double big problem as we are living in a dry country - don't tell Madam until I come up with a plan.

Oncoming Traffic? Easy!

It has reached that stage when the TS (Trailing Spouse) had to fill up the car with petrol.  Now this is no easy task in the demonic driving of Dhaka.  Now most expats have their driver to do the deed and and just basically handover cash, get the receipt and nothing more is said.  Madam has yet to choose a driver hence, I am now learning all the bad habits of survival on Dhaka driving.

Now, having driven for over 20 years, you would think what the heck am I moaning about.  The car is a right  wheeled drive - same as home.  The traffic allegedly drives on the right / correct side of the road and ultimately my car is bigger than the others.  Well fellow readers I wish it was all that simple.

Your first problem as previously mentioned in a previous blog (Traffic) - there are no rules.  If you want to drive up the wrong way on the other side of the road - not a problem.  Rickshaws and Tuk-Tuks do it all the time.  There is no concept of lanes.  For instance the 'motorway' is a three lane road.  On a good day, the traffic might be nice and operate as three lanes but normally its five lanes.  The concept of roundabouts are a new phenomenon  so the question of 'right of way?' is not in their parlance; and most frustrating of all - to get onto the other side of any road, there are no slipways, roundabouts, side roads etc.  No no no -- you just find a gap in the central reservation and do a U-turn.  There is no point having your heart in your mouth, white knuckles on the steering wheel or just panicking.  Just shrug the shoulders and hope for the best is the most appropriate policy.

So after many discussions with people on where the easiest petrol station was to get to, it was time to venture out.  I chose a Friday morning - good call most said - the roads would be quiet!  Dhaka had obviously decided not this time when I was going out.  I found the right break and did my Uy - ok so far.  Identified the petrol station on the other side of the road and duly had to find another break in the central reservation to do another Uy.  Ok so far.  

I duly pulled into the petrol station onto what could be described as a 'forecourt' with a motley crew of cars, tuk-tuks and something described as a minibus.  After lots of pointing and stating what I wanted, I was duly advised that to get to the petrol pump, I would need to exit the 'forecourt', do a u-turn into on-coming traffic and re-enter the petrol station.  A new twist to driving in Dhaka!  All I can say it was a bit touch and go, but thankfully some truck managed to botch up getting round some rickshaw providing the opportunity for a u-turn and then sneak into the forecourt at the petrol pump.  Getting out was just as bad - one had to reverse into oncoming traffic.  Again some rickshaw and a tuk-tuk were having a contra ton leaving a gap for a nifty manoeuvre to escape the 'carnage'.  

Now getting home. Madam, asked how it went and ended up saying 'that's nice dear'.  So when anyone again moans about traffic, try driving into oncoming traffic just to enter a petrol station - I say - Easy!

It’s a Dogs Life

Well we are not in our new abode yet – lots of issues such as having to rewire the place to bring it line with UK electrical standards never mind Bangladeshi ones.  Install air conditioning, actually put a kitchen in to be honest, general maintenance and solving problems which should not have been there from that start.  I was told this was normal when a property is taken over for diplomats etc.  What was more concerning, that this is a brand new building with the paint still wet and all this work still had to be carried out.  I think it is called the joys of design and construction in Dhaka.

Anyhow I digress.  We have a visitor staying this week -  a chocolate Labrador called Minstrel (a bit of typecasting there me thinks).  So why he is staying you cry?  Well, the a Diplomatic colleague needed to go out of town on business and failed to mention to Mrs Diplomatic colleague that she would be going with him.  This resulted in Mr Dc chatting to Madam to see if we could look after the waif for a couple of days.  Madam, of course has been nagging the TS for months / years for a ‘little doglet’ – I know, I cringe as well and please don’t ask.  Delightedly she said yes and then truly informed me.

Minstrel with Rudolph

Well Minstrel arrived on Sunday with his bed (now becoming a floor ornament as he has learnt a bad habit from a previous sleepover elsewhere – the sofa), his food - changed days when I had a dog as a kid.  All it is a bag of biscuits with a touch of water – no tins of dog food etc.  His toys (which included a rather fetching teddy bear like Rudolph the reindeer which he would take with him to bed each night), bowls and a big stick (more later).  Minstrel would be staying the week – Madam failed to tell me.  To just rub salt into the proverbial, Madam was out most evenings this week, so it is up to the TS to entertain, feed, walk and generally be the convivial host for Minstrel.  Now you see why I am have been resisting a ‘little doglet’ – it would be like that all the time.  All aside, he is a big softie and a gorgeous looking dog and of course the TS would be more than willing to look after him whenever – that’s not the point though and don’t tell Madam.  A pretence is needed.

Now walking a dog in Dhaka is an unusual thing.  The only people who have dogs as pets are expats.  Generally the dogs that do exist here are feral and roam the streets – the first problem.  Secondly the pavements don’t generally exist and you have to dodge traffic, rickshaws and tuk-tuks whilst walking, never mind the people who seem to be on the whole, scared of dogs.  The big stick is needed to fend off the stray dogs and kamikaze cats. 

One doesn’t realise the number of dogs roaming the place until they all start coming out of the wood work irrespective of the ones sitting behind gates.  Apart from having another set of eyes, a guard dog would be helpful just to take pooch out for walkies. 

One of the big conundrums I keep asking when walking – do they have any planning law?  You have maisonettes which would be typical in middle England, to some Mediterranean style architecture followed by some hotch potch of something alongside a sleek glass apartment block.  As well as the various construction sites dotted about with their very own breach of health & safety rules as we know it.  This is all within a 12 block area.  So when Minstrel departs at the end of the week, I can honestly say I have seen more of the area and lots more of the weird constructions called houses in Dhaka.  Minstrel of course is oblivious to all of this focussing on the next sniff and where his dinner is coming from – it is true – it is a dog’s life!