Category: Bangladesh

• See You Next Time Hands On

  Filed Under: BangladeshApr 11, 2008 | 2 Comments

  
  
  

  

  Welcome to Bangladesh,
  welcome to Hands On Rayenda.
  Don’t think we love you any less,
  ’cause you got here so late in the calender.
  We’ve all travelled very far,
  now we’re screaming ‘buji na’.
  ‘Buji naaaa’
  (Courtesy of Alan)

  My time with Hands On at Project Rayenda is up and I’m sad to be leaving but really happy to have discovered this organisation and to have met so many amazing people during my stay here. I’ve loved everything about this experience (except for the occastional dubious dinner) and I’m almost certain I’m going to become a groupie, following Hands On around the world to help out as disaster strikes.

  Favourite things about Hands On Rayenda:

  1. Getting involved and helping out on a level that I would never have been able to achieve on my own.
  2. Meeting so many amazing people in the volunteer house and laughing constantly.
  3. Being trusted to majobble my way through construction projects, learning loads in the process.
  4. Seeing first hand the impact of the projects on the individuals they helped.
  5. Being adopted into the community and experiencing generosity and warmth from the locals on a level I never could have imagined.

  This experience with Hands On has had a huge impact on me. They do great work and they do it in a fun and engaging way and I’m hooked!

• The Culinary Delights of Bangladesh

  Filed Under: BangladeshApr 02, 2008 | Comment?

  
  
  

  

  I’ve been here in Rayenda for about six weeks now and have been forced into a diet heavy in Bangladeshi fare and very light in anything I would recognise or know the name of. Fortunately, I’ve had plenty of time for my taste buds to adapt and I think I may have even found a thing or two I like. I’m still not too crazy on squash mosh or the meals that involve eating fish heads but I’ve found that filling my day with the following goodies makes things a lot more unhealthy and a little more bearable.

  Ice Cream - The day someone came home with a report of a freezer in the market was a happy one and that news sent ripples of joy throughout the volunteer house. Freezers mean cold and cold means ice cream. To solve the problem of it melting before we can get it home we all head down with spoons in hand ready to devour the tubs while curious locals watch the feeding frenzy most likely in disgust.

  Chocolate - Bangladeshis aren’t nearly as fond of chocolate as us Westerners and given the terrible quality of the stuff we found in Rayenda, it’s no wonder. There’s no shortage of selection but what’s on offer is tasteless and an insult to chocolate everywhere. We decided a taste test was in order and set out to find the best Bangla chocolate but unfortunately it was all terrible. The worst of the lot was a tube-like bar with three flavours of icing in the middle and a chocolate coating that had the taste and texture of styrofoam. We dubbed this abomination the ‘Tri-Flavoured Chocolate Covered Poop Log’. Luckily we discovered the ‘Chocolate Pimp’ who has access to imported chocolate from Malaysia which is reasonably enjoyable and allows us to get our fix without questioning whether what we are eating is actually food or not.

  Sweet stuff - Bangladesh makes up for its lack of edible chocolate by injecting copious amounts of sugar into various types of dough or bread and when none of that is available they  deep fry sugar itself. The result is a tasty but diabetes-inducing selection of treats. The most lethal of them all is mishti, a ball of dough soaked in a sugary syrup so that the ball oozes sickly sweetness with each bite. It’s kind of soggy and gross but kind of addictive as well. I suspect they’re laced with crack.

  Fried stuff - When the sweet stuff gets to be too much, there is always plenty of fried stuff on the go. Market areas are lined with stalls equipped with big pans of deep frying oil and lots of greasy goodies perched on the edge. Paratha, mogli, shingola… the name, the shape and the fillings change but the greasiness lives on in each. Paratha are discs of deep fried yumminess that are usually dipped into dhal, mogli are rectangles of relative grossness filled with egg and strange vegetables, and shingola are delicious triangular samosa type things with a spicy potato mixture inside. I can feel my arteries clogging just looking at that photo.

  Soft drinks - The discovery of the ice cream man led to the discovery that soft drinks could be put into said ice cream man’s freezer and thus we were re-introduced to the world of cold drinks. With the temperature rising to ridiculous heights and humidity being even more ridiculous, cold drinks have become our saviour after a long day in the sun. The  selection is pretty limited with old classics such as 7-Up and Sprite competing with local favourites for our business. Bangla choices include such unknown varieties as Chaser, Fizz Up, Pran Up, Upper 10, and Clemon (also possibly called C-Lemon but we might never know). Taste tests make for an entertaining and useful time killer so we conducted a blind taste test with all seven lemon-lime pop varieties.  All were served warm to take away any possible advantages but downing 7 samples of warm pop was too much for some of our participants and drinks were soon flying off of the roof rather instead of being drunk. When all drinks were eventually tasted and our stomachs were full of sub-par fizzy lemon drinks the winner was 7-Up followed closely by Sprite. The best of the Bangla choices was Clemon (C-Lemon?) with Pran-Up pulling up the rear. What kind of lame name is Pran-Up anyways?

  Tea - Tea stalls are to Bangladesh what pubs are to the UK. There’s at least one on every corner, they’re crowded with shouty old men and they serve up drinks that will lead to certain heart failure if not drunk in moderation. Pubs serve alcohol, Bangladeshi tea stalls serve cups of sugar with a bit of tea added for flavour. If you ask for milk you get condensed milk. Best tea ever.

  All of these yummy things have been keeping me distracted from the fact that even the most delicious meal gets dull the sixth time you see it in a week. These little indulgences are keeping us all sane for the moment but I’m sure any of us would trade all of these things for a big ass Toblerone.

• Bangladeshi Bus Rides

  Filed Under: BangladeshMar 18, 2008 | Comment?

  
  
  

  The buses in Bangladesh are seriously dented and you only need to ride on one to know how they got that way. Bangladeshi bus drivers are maniacs, barrelling down the roads with little regard for anything else that might be in the way. It doesn’t help that I’m the most cowardly bus passenger in the world, nearly crapping my pants at the slightest hint of speed.

  So logically, I’ve taken to riding up on top of the buses to truly scare myself to death. The first day I rode on top of a bus I was kind of wedged in between baskets of jagged tin that seemed to want to stab into my sides anytime the bus went over a bump which was pretty much all the time. My next ride up top was far more comfortable with plenty of room to stretch out. We even had some tea and biscuits sent up from the shop next to the bus stop while we waited ages for the thing to decide to move. At one point a young guy was balancing precariously on the front of the bus trying to snap some photos of the crazy white folks on a Bangladeshi bus roof rack and nearly did a back flip off the front when the bus came to a halting stop on a bumpy road.

  On another journey I also had to think of molestation avoidance tactics while perching precariously at the back of the bus nestled uncomfortably between some Bangladeshi dude’s legs. Given the tight circumstances, I was willing to let his leg hold slide but when he decided to strategically relocate the position of his hands while deciding to rest his head on my back, I had to bring things to a grinding halt and find a new position. Unfortunately, after an awkward, painful and death defying re-shuffle, I pretty much found myself in the exact same position except this time I was facing him and had to do some mild contortions to stop his face from inching ever closer to my boobs.

  Riding inside the bus is marginally more safe but it may cause you to lose the will to live as you try to find some breathing space while avoiding the stares of pretty much everyone on board. Plus Bangladeshi men seem to like to beat up their bus drivers for reasons that have yet to be established. I’m definitely not going to complain about the commute in London ever again!

• Bringing Playgrounds to Rural Bangaldesh

  Filed Under: BangladeshMar 04, 2008 | Comment?

  
  
  

  

  Today was one of those days that reminds me why I really love this volunteering thing. The day was pretty ridiculous but we still managed to get a lot done, get dirty and laugh a lot in the process.

  Hands On have committed to building five playgrounds in communities outside Rayenda and today we got cracking on the first of the lot. We loaded up a boat in the morning with bricks and most of our wood only to discover that there was no way it would be able to take the rest of the wood and six volunteers. We wrangled another boat and tried to offload some of the stuff from the first boat but boat guy assured us it would be ok. We relented, boarded the new boat and watched nervously as the overloaded boat floated precariously down the river beside us. It made it there but, damn, it made the journey interesting.

  Our journey was about an hour and a bit and I think I was totally duped. We were promised a nice boat ride in the morning, and it was nice. The scenery was stunning and we even had realy cool, massive bats flying overhead at one point. The duped part is that I totally forgot that at the end of the boat ride we’d have to unload and transport craploads of heavy wood. Damn.

  One thing I can say about Bangladeshi school children is that they’ve got a lot of energy. They were right in there with us during the transporting of our wood. Some of the little buggers were carrying beams on their heads that I could barely lift! Their help got the job done a million times faster though so yay again to voluntary child labour! Another, unrelated, pretty nasty and totally irrelevant thing I can say about them is that when they pick their noses, they really go for it. There’s no shyness about going for a good ol’ dig up there with an audience.

  After our massive wood relocation session most of our day was spent digging holes. Child labour came through again as they got their hands dirty scooping up dirt into bags for us as we dug the holes with some crazy shovel type devices. I’d guess that we had about 100 kids around us as we dug, sang badly and generally acted silly while getting some beams and stuff up in the process. I had a massive crowd around me watching me do… absolutely nothing. Everyone seemed fascinated by my lack of earrings and lack of a nose piercing. Why this attracted a fascinated crowd of over 60 I will never know.

  So all up it was a great day. I’m not sure how I feel about this hard work thing but I’m sure I can get used to it. Dealing with a zillion excited kids who want to hang out with you as you swing tools around takes some serious amounts of patience but seeing them so eager and excited to help and knowing that they’ve never even seen a playground before makes me fight the urge to kick them. Just kidding. Sort of.

• Settling in to Life in Rayenda

  Filed Under: BangladeshFeb 25, 2008 | Comment?

  
  
  

  

  I’ve been here in Rayenda for a week and a bit now and I’m starting to settle in and get comfortable. I was originally a bit scared that the program would be full of super serious save the world types and I’d have to adapt to a life without silliness. Fortunately there are some very funny people here and seriousness hasn’t been an option. I’ve even found a couple who enjoy talking about poo as much as I do (is there anything more funny than poo?) so that’s provided even more entertainment for my sick and twisted mind.

  There are about 25 of us in the house but I’m having no problems at all coping with that. I think living in squalor in London for so many years has prepared me for living in close quarters with lots of other people… and mice and the occasional cockroach. All up though I think the setup here is great. My room is quiet, the bunk beds are sturdy and now that I’ve hooked myself up with a pillow and a blanket life is good.

  Some things I’ve learned in my short time here:

  • I’m getting used to the world of squat toilets and have only peed down the side of my leg once.
  • I’ve accepted the fact that Bangladeshi chocolate has been somehow robbed of all taste.
  • I’ve learned that to avoid being served huge amounts of food when a guest in someone’s home you have to counter their surprise serving attack with a two-handed plate cover and a shout of ‘na!’
  • I’m ok with the staring and have grown used to having 15 locals help me buy grapes in the market or follow me home.
  • I’ve got some insider information on the location of the only market stall that sells cold drinks and ice cream and have a source to lead me to the place that sells ketchup.
  • I’ve accepted the fact that the power will go out at least five times each night.
  • I’ve gained a new appreciation for lentils and accepted my forced quasi-vegetarianism.
  • I’ve gotten used to kids asking my name and country 450,000 times as I walk down the street.

  And most importantly I’m just really happy to be here in this great community and looking forward to all the other little things Bangladesh has in store for me.

• My Construction Career Takes Off

  Filed Under: BangladeshFeb 21, 2008 | Comment?

  
  
  

  

  I’m happy that the prime requirement for working with Hands On Disaster Response is a sense of humour because I think my construction skills leave much to be desired. So far I’ve acted as a diversion to keep a massive group of teenage girls away from the other volunteers who were attempting to build a house, pounded mud with a cricket bat in an attempt to repair a foundation, and been a gopher while the rest of the team worked on constructing the roof of a new school. So far I haven’t fallen off of anything and have only had one thing fall onto me. Pretty good going, I say. I’ve been doing some sawing, pounding, hammering, measuring, lifting and water fetching. All great skills for the resume.

  On Saturday I’ll be joining four other people who will be building a ‘HODR Half’. The ‘HODR’ part stands for the organisation, ’Hands on Disaster Response’ and the ‘Half’ is a half a house. The idea with the half houses is that HODR will get a basic, sound structure up that can be expanded later by the homeowner if they want. So instead of having a pointy, triangle shaped roof, they’ve got a half roof that sort of slopes downwards making it easier to build an extension onto the front of it.

  I really don’t know much about construction so I’m hoping the other team members don’t mind teaching me the way of the HODR Half. I’m pretty keen to work on a house from start to finish, even in a gopher, water-fetching capacity if need be. I think it’s about time I fall off a roof though, so hopefully I’ll be able to get more involved.

  We’re just about to finish up a school that will replace a tarp that the students are currently working under. When they’re not in class they’re always hanging around the site which, with pointy things occasionally sliding off the roof, probably isn’t the safest. It’s handy having them around though because they’re eager to help and we’re happy to get them to pass us stuff and cart wood around. Yay to child labour.

  The community members around the school have been taking turns making lunch for us and are always around to offer help, have a nap inside the structure, or to just stare at us. When we walked home the other day we had a trail of about 10 people lingering behind us for quite a while but everyone is really nice and it’s great to feel like the community is involved.

• First Impressions of Rayenda, Bangladesh

  Filed Under: BangladeshFeb 16, 2008 | Comment?

  
  
  

  

  First off let me give you a piece of important advice for the next time you find yourself in Bangladesh: Do not, I repeat, do not give your phone number out to Bangladeshi men. I now have three semi-stalkers and have around 10 missed calls per day. The one that keeps calling me the most doesnt even speak English so I’m not too sure where this relationship is headed.

  The people here are really sweet though… in an intense, in your face kind of way. I’d heard about the staring and the celebrity status things and didn’t really buy it, but it’s true. I went for a walk through the market and by the end had accumulated an entourage of about 20 people. Nearly everyone who passes by us, especially children, ask what I think are the only questions they know in English: “What is your name? What is your country?” It’s cute the first few times but then gets a bit annoying. I think I’m going to start telling them my name is Shaneequa and I’m from Antarctica.

  I went out to snap some photos yesterday with my big ass camera and bigger ass lens which attracted a crowd everywhere I went. I got chatting to a guy who works for a local newspaper and he invited me to his home where his wife force fed me fish with heads still on it and this black paste stuff that was like nothing I’ve ever tasted before. I have to say that I’m getting a lot braver with my food choices which is great but I’m not sure my stomach likes me anymore.

  The community seems really lovely, I feel totally safe, the people are friendly and the scenery is beautiful. I’m not sure I have a good idea of how much devastation the cyclone caused. There are plenty of people living under tarps and plenty more building new houses where their old ones used to stand but I haven’t really explored the area too much just yet so I’m sure things are a lot worse than Ive seen.

  I’m anxious to get my hands dirty and get out to see more of the community. So far I’m really happy to be involved with Hands On. The house we’re in is great, the people are all really friendly and the disaster response program seems really well organised.

  I’m going to be annoying again and hassle you for money so beware. If you’d like to donate to the project, head to their sponsors page. Thanks!

• This is Why I Love Travelling

  Filed Under: BangladeshFeb 13, 2008 | Comment?

  
  
  

  

  Things started out on track this morning with Jewel putting me on a 10am bus destined for who knows where and arranging for the driver to help me transfer to get to my final destination of Rayenda. He even gave me a crash course in Bengali and wrote down some phrases. For the record, ’toilet’ in Bengali is ‘toilet’. Who knew?

  Once on the bus I held people’s stares for a little while but eventually they lost interest in me and decided to sleep themselves instead of observing me sleep. How rude of them. After driving for only about 30 minutes we sat in what seemed like a bus parking lot for about two hours, inching forward a few feet every 20 minutes or so. I didn’t have a clue what was going on and nearly peed my pants because I was too afraid to get off the bus in case it suddenly decided to leave. I made a dash when things got desperate though and the bus remained locked in it’s location for another hour after that.

  The food looked mostly scary so I subsisted on a few grapes a young university student sitting next to me shared with me and some little chocolate bars I bought in Manila. As the bus inched forward I finally realized that we were in a massive queue waiting for a ferry to take us across some mystery body of water. Getting onto the boat seemed to take a zillion years and getting across seemed to take a zillion more but by about 3pm we were cruising down the centre of the highway honking constantly so that anything smaller would get the hell out of the way.

  Driving… driving… driving… sun going down… something isn’t right here. Jewel told me I would be transferring to the second bus at about 4pm at it was well past 7pm at this point. I was actually feeling strangely calm. I sort of like it when I really don’t have a clue how to get somewhere and things are just left to chance so I just listened to some music, relaxed and assumed that I’d make it there somehow.

  Well I didn’t make it there. I did, however, make it to a small desk by the side of the road with a kerosene lantern on it and a bunch of men crowded around. The bus driver got off the bus, carried my bag to the desk, explained to the desk guy that I wanted to go to Rayenda and then headed back to drive the bus after holding it up for 15 minutes for my sake.

  I sat down beside the table while desk man made a phone call and about 30 other guys gathered around me to stare. Only one of them seemed to speak English and he offered to buy me a tea and we chatted a little bit – where from, what is your qualification, what is your name etc. It wasnt the most inspiring conversation in the world, but it wasn’t the least, either. The tea was tasty but there were mystery floaties in it. I can handle hard floaties but these were kind of soft, gooey floaties so getting the drink down took a bit of concentrating on not spewing on my part.

  Desk man told English speaking man that there were no more buses to Rayenda that night and I would have to stay in a hotel until the next morning. About 3 of the staring men took my phone number and desk man, whose name is Mona, led me away to another bus. He carried my bag and wouldn’t let me pay him for my fare and we drove up the road for a few minutes while the entire bus, you guessed it, stared at me.

  Then we boarded another bus where I sat right at the front beside the driver. Mona smoked a cigarette and he, the driver, and about 10 men hanging around the front of the bus had a long, animated conversation which seemed to be about buses to Rayenda and hotels in the nearby town. All while staring at me because I am fascinating, after all.

  So now, thanks to Mona, I’m sitting comfortably in a hotel room fielding phone calls from random Bangladeshi men and once again amazed at the kindness of strangers. Mona arranged for his brother to meet me tomorrow morning in the hotel lobby to take me back to the desk that I’m guessing is some kind of bus ticket thing place.

  So tomorrow I’ll have a second attempt at making my way to Rayenda. If the rest of my days in Bangladesh are anything like this one then I’m in for some very good times.

• So What Am I Doing in Bangladesh?

  Filed Under: BangladeshFeb 12, 2008 | Comment?

  
  
  

  

  I’m here and I have no idea what I was ever worried about. I was met at the airport by a guy called Jewel who runs a beautiful place called Greenhouse B&B. He picked me up, got me settled and then this morning he pretty much became my personal assistant. He sorted me out with a mobile phone (I am finally the reluctant owner of a camera phone after fighting the power for years), an internet connection, and he even went to the bus station for me and waited three hours to try and buy me a ticket!

  The phone and net connection means that I can get my laptop online from anywhere and I don’t even need a contract or anything, I can just pay by the month. It was the easiest thing ever to set up and I can’t imagine things ever going so smoothly in the UK or Canada. I am very impressed so far and really looking forward to heading down south and getting started with some work.

  So what am I doing in Bangladesh, anyway? I’ll be working with Hands On Disaster Response (HODR) which is an American organisation that was started up to help out after the tsunami. They’ve done work in The Philippines after a typhoon, Peru after the earthquake last year, New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina and I think they’ll be helping out in the US again in the region hit by tornadoes recently. In Bangladesh they’re working in the area hit last year by Cyclone Sidr which flattened homes and left well over 3,000 people dead.

  I learned about the organisation while I was researching The Philippines and decided to try and volunteer with them if they ever had a project near to where I was. Bangladesh isn’t exactly on the way to China from The Philippines but it is a great opportunity to help out with what seems like a wonderful organisation and I’ll get to know a lot about Bangladesh, a country I’ve really never considered going to in the past. What’s travel witout a bit of spontanaeity and adventure, anyway?

  According to HODR’s website, it costs $425 US to build a house for a family and I’m going to attempt to raise that amount. I’ve chucked in $50 towards the cause so that leaves $375 to be raised. So if you want to help out a family and get that warm, fuzzy feeling you can make a donation on their secure donations page. It might even be me who helps build the house! Although in that case, I fear for the family!

  If you’re a computer nerd like me and have a website you want to promote, I’ll add a link to your site on a sponsors page for a donation of $25. If you’re an American then I think the donations are tax deductable. Just make sure you email me once you’ve made a donation so I can keep track of the total and post a thank you to you on my site. No amount is too small… or too big.

  Ok well that’s it for now. I’ll check in again from a place called Rayenda. Can’t wait to get there and get my hands dirty. Not sure what they’ll have me doing but the main requirement for working with them is a sense of humour so I’m sure I can manage that.

• Bangladesh Visa Guy Decides My Destination

  Filed Under: BangladeshFeb 11, 2008 | Comment?

  
  
  

  Talk about cutting things close. After three weeks of attempting to get my tourist visa for Bangladesh, it pretty much came down to the wire. I rocked up at the office at 11am this morning not knowing whether this phantom visa would ever be issued to me or not. I had my luggage in tow because, if my visa quest was a success, then I’d be heading straight to the airport to catch my 3pm flight. I really wasn’t bothered either way so it was sort of nice to have no control over the decision. As fate would have it, though, my visa appeared at the last minute and my decision had been made to head to Bangladesh after all.

  When I first arrived in Manila a month ago I was lucky to meet David, a photographer who’s been living in Bangladesh for two years. He put me in touch with a friend he has there and they’ve both really helped out with my questions but I’m still kind of shitting myself a bit. I don’t have a guidebook, a ticket out of the country, any Bangladeshi currency (I’m not even sure what it’s called!) and getting to this volunteering place will involve a 24 hour boat ride for which getting a ticket will be an adventure.

  So while I’m wondering what I’ve gotten myself into here, I’m also really excited to travel to a pretty crazy place and looking forward to just taking things as they come. I’ve never really done anything this far outside of my comfort zone. In fact, I think Bangladesh will blow my comfort zone to smithereens and I’m interested in seeing how I cope. If it’s all too crappy for me to bear then I can always just leave so nothing to lose, right? Things have a way of working out, right?

  I have a feeling this will be quite an experience and am looking forward to find out what is in store for me. Then again, the warning that David gave me yesterday about trying not to catch Dengue fever at the Dhaka airport was probably something my nerves could have done without.