A new twist....Poland

I realize it's been a long time since my last blog. It's not that I've been lazy, but it may come across that way. I have been very depressed, listless, disinterested, knowing full well what I need to do and yet, being unable to function. And so the weeks following the previous post went...still going.

What I can conclude from the past month and half is that I'm not as keen on writing as I used to be. I just no longer write...but keep it in my head. I can't get things down on paper anymore. It's not quite writer's block because plenty of material is present...and accumulates all the time. It's that I'm so used to needing to get my words right and organized, that they never get written. An annoying conundrum, that. At least this blog is still ongoing, despite the breaks in between. Still, don't expect more frequent entries. With work, and other responsibilities to family, making time for them, etc., I doubt I'll get more than one per month written.

Changes are inevitable...and the biggest one came with a new internship. Earlier this fall, in September, my uncle Shaheen (mom's sister's husband) who is already a big industrialist and businessman, became the new Honorary Consul of Poland in Dhaka. Early this November, he hired me to come to his office and the Consulate to work for him. The motivation of course is that I get out of the house, keep busy, stop dwelling on things that are out of my control, help him out at the same time, and network with people for better job opportunities.

Work days in Bangladesh have always been Sunday to Thursday, with Friday and Saturday off as the weekend. However, in his office, we only get Fridays off, though hours are from 9 am to 5 pm. His office, which is also the Consulate office, is located near his home in the Banani Residential Area, a 10 minute drive. However, from my grandmother's house in Dhanmondi where I prefer to live, the commute is a good half hour (light to no traffic) to one hour atleast (during heavy traffic).

I spent the first two weeks staying with him and my aunt, commuting from his home, and leaving for the office with him. Then last week, I moved back to Dhanmondi, to my grandmother's home, and began commuting from there in a CNG auto-rickshaw, a smaller three-wheeled vehicle that seats up to three people in the back.

This past week, I've noticed chinks in the wall I've put up around me...the wall that represents a fear of getting out of the house and being unable to manage moving around and traveling around the city. My courage is returning and I no longer feel that scared, though I'm still not as used to it. Only time can help me, I hope.

These past three weeks I've been working at the Consulate. From the start I've been kept busy with Consulate matters. The Acting Ambassador of Poland to New Delhi (also the Charge d'Affaires of Poland) Mr. Opalinski, and the Head of the Polish mission in New Delhi, Mr. Kaminski, came to Dhaka to inaugurate the new Polish Consulate and to celebrate the 90th Independence Day of Poland (November 11). The main Polish embassy is located in New Delhi, India and oversees the six countries of India, Bangladesh, Nepal, Maldives, Bhutan, and Sri Lanka.

My first day, and half of the second day was spent preparing for his visit and then assisting the delegation on their visit, going with them as they called on various government officials, and visited Dhaka companies. Their visit to the National Monument in the town of Savar to honor the martyrs of the Bangladeshi Revolution was photographed as was the official opening of the new Honorary Polish Consulate. Photos of the two events were sent to the media and printed by newspapers throughout Bangladesh. If I get around to scanning any of the pictures, including the Savar picture in which I appeared, I will post them here.

The Consulate organized a grand independence day celebration dinner inviting dignitaries and officials from across Bangladesh and Consuls of different countries in Bangladesh. Here, the Polish cultural song and dance troupe, JEDLINIOK, on tour through India and Nepal, stopped in Dhaka for a few days to perform at the celebration, and the next day at the Dhaka Club. Since I was sick on the 11th, I wasn't able to attend either the inauguration or the independence day dinner. I was, however, able to attend their Dhaka Club performance. What follows are three videos of different folk dances from their Dhaka Club performance (see if you can find me in Video 1) and a picture of them with myself and my uncle. :-) For other pictures, if you have a Facebook account, you can access them through my account.


















Video 1



Video 2



Video 3

....And time flows on like grains of sand between my fingers

Eid has come and passed (October 2nd). It was a good day, one of the better ones I've had since moving here. The more things don't happen, the more depressed I feel, and the more I do less what I need to. The cycle continues...and already two months have passed. I'm hoping the third will bode better. A couple of pictures follow.

With Cooper, my cousin's cat:


































My mom and I:

I want Coke...I want Coke!

The month of fasting, Ramadan, is going on right now (started on the night of the 2nd and will end with the evening of the next new moon). At the end of Ramadan, the Islamic holiday of Eid (pronounced Eed) is celebrated. People visit each other and feast on a humongous variety of foods. Bangladesh is definitely a food culture nation and according to several sources, people live to eat rather than eat to live.

During Ramadan, I fast everyday, from half an hour or so before sunup to sundown. Not allowed to eat or drink during this time, I eat at sundown (this meal’s called iftaar) and drink to my heart’s content. Then I get up early morning an hour or so before sunup to fill up for the day (this meal’s called sehri). It’s going ok so far, though when the days get hotter and more humid, my thirst becomes worse, and the last couple of days have been hot, hot, hot!

Before going to sleep though, I snack on fruits and milk just so I can get through the night and in case I can’t sleep. A nine and half hour gap between the iftaar and sehri is just too much for me to handle, despite the nearly 14 hour fasting time!

After iftaar Tuesday night, Rafiba picked me up to go to Chandni Chowk to buy material for our Eid clothes. These would be gifts from my mom and my aunt Lily. I decided on a pretty pink Pakistani cotton three-piece salwar kameez set with colorful threadwork and a peridot green salwar kameez set with white and silver-gray beadwork. Neither of these sets is completely finished and need to be taken to a tailor to get them finished.

My mom’s sister, my aunt Ruba, or Ruba aunti as I call her, visited us for iftaar Wednesday night along with Nusaiba, Rafiba and Zaheen who forgot my flash drive again. I’m not sure whether to clobber him on the head or wait patiently some more. :-P

Ruba auntie said she’d take the materials to the tailor. She just needed to bring to the tailor a kameez that fit me well so that the new ones would be made to its specifications. I’m looking forward to seeing what they look like when finished, and being able to wear them for Eid! I already know I’d like to wear the peridot green for the occasion.

While Ruba aunti was at our house, Rafiba and I decided to go out shopping again because Eid clothes hadn’t been bought yet for Sadia, Ehsan uncle’s daughter. Sadia’s brother, Zul (pronounced Jewel) and Zaheen decided to come with us. So the four of us piled up in Ruba aunti’s van and her driver took us to Rapa Plaza. A mix of rock music was playing in the van and that’s when I kicked myself for not bringing my copy of Grave Dancer’s Union. I’d been talking to Zaheen and Zul about Soul Asylum and Zaheen had mentioned that he’d heard of but hadn’t heard Runaway Train. Missed opportunity but I’ll take the next one.

I had a great time, although I can’t make the claim for the others. Zaheen and Zul were at a cd and dvd store looking at movies, music, and games, while Rafiba and I window-shopped. Since bargaining is a must, I left the price-warring to Rafiba. We went through several stores before finding a nice salwar kameez set for Sadia that was also within our budget. Soon, though bored out of their minds, the boys came to find us. Zaheen is a great kidder so he kept us entertained while I occasionally joined in the jokes and Rafiba kept bargaining. Then, at one point, Zaheen started playfully but insistently demanding Coke. I want Coke...Coke...Coke...I want Coke, now. It was hilarious! Meanwhile, Zul was standing back and enjoying the show. We had so many laughs that night that it will definitely be a memory for keeps. :-D

Back on the news floor.

Last Saturday, Mr. Sobhan contacted me to ask if I could meet with Mr. Anam on Tuesday, the 9th. We agreed and set up a time in the afternoon. In my meeting with him, he made the same inquiry that Mr. Sobhan had to start my interview: tell me a little bit about yourself. I gave them both a short-cut version of my life and ended with and now, I’m back in Dhaka to build up my career. That version, coupled with my resume impressed Mr. Anam and he warmly welcomed me to the Daily Star.

Things started going downhill when he made his baseline salary offer. It was so much lower than I’d hoped for and lower than I can ever agree to that though Mr. Sobhan debated on my behalf, Mr. Anam wouldn’t budge. However, we did agree to meet the next day for me to come in and make my case.

I fell sick with a bad headache the next day and was unable to make it. The meeting was rescheduled for the following day, Thursday the 11th. Despite my case, he won’t budge, though he says that they need me. I’m going to make one final offer tomorrow and if he can’t meet it, then I’ll walk. Too bad if he doesn’t, but as he said, the Daily Star needs me more than I need them, though he hopes I need them as much. I don’t, and I’m worth more than he offers. I don’t know what his response will be but whatever it is, I’ll mention it when I learn of it.

On the news floor...

While I was staying with Rafiba, I received a phone call from The Daily Star, the premier English-language newspaper in Bangladesh. Incidentally, the assistant editor with whom I spoke was a friend of Adina’s. So through this network, he came to know that I had an English background, editing experience, and that I was looking for a job. He contacted me for an interview on Wednesday the 27th, and I went. It went well, but to sell me better to his Editor, Mahfuz Anam, he asked me to come by the next day with a more marketable resume and to be ready to take an editing test. Wednesday night, my uncle and aunt came back from Singapore, and the night was spent unpacking luggage, recounting stories, and resting.

With a more marketable resume and my portfolio in tow, I headed back to the Daily Star that Thursday. After pronouncing the resume as “Now this is what I was talking about!” he gave me an article, a particularly long and badly written article to edit. It took me much longer than I expected and my interviewer had to leave. He told me he’d be in touch and get back to me on Saturday. I finished editing it soon after he left, and headed back to my aunt’s house. On the 29th, a Friday, I returned back to Dhanmondi, and back to my job searches.

The computer at Rafiba’s house had stopped working so I was left without a computer and the internet. I came to realize that week just how dependent I’ve become on both. The world stops for me if I can’t use either. Because Adina had said I could use her laptop while I was at her house, I failed to bring my laptop with me. Oh well. It was a lesson well-learned and a realization hit home.

The next week, on Monday, September 1, my interviewer, Mr. Sobhan, who heads the Point-Counterpoint page (the equivalent of the Op - Ed page in the states), called me back asking if I’d seen that day’s issue and to turn to the Point-Counterpoint page. My mom and Ehsan uncle (my mom’s youngest brother) subscribe to the Daily Star so I was able to pick it up and turn to it. What a surprise! The article I’d edited for the test, with a few further changes and clarifications, was printed on that page! They were that impressed with my work and made me an offer! For your perusal, it’s located at http://www.thedailystar.net/story.php?nid=52677

Mr. Sobhan further stated that he’d like me to come in and meet with his Editor that week and added that he’d get back to me quickly. Thinking I might most likely meet Mr. Anam on Thursday that week, it being the last weekday, and needing transportation and an escort to get there, I went back to my aunt’s house that Wednesday evening. Lina was already there. Meanwhile Rafiba had gone with her grandmother (paternal) to Calcutta.

Due to his being extremely busy that week, he was unable to get back to me until that weekend. By then, I’d come back to Dhanmondi. While I’d waited for his call, I spent time with Lina and Nusaiba, with my aunt and uncle, and Zaheen when he dropped by. I’d asked my sister to copy as many of my audio cds as possible to my flash drive and gave her a second drive when she ran out of space. The first drive also contained my personal and professional files. When I’d tried to play the songs she’d copied, I was unable to play them, they being m4a files.

So, while I was at Bonani the first time, I gave Zaheen the drive with just the music files, and asked him to see what he could do. After coming back to Dhanmondi, and after talking to my sister while in Dhanmondi, I figured out that I could easily play my songs with iTunes. After that, when Zaheen and I met again at my aunt’s, I told him what I found out and he informed me that he was also able to play them with Nokia music player. He told me he’d bring it by and return it before I left. It hasn’t happened yet. :-P

Circle of friends

My time spent at Bonani was great. When I got there, I also met Rafiba’s three-year-old sister, Nusaiba, and another cousin from my father’s side (my dad’s brother’s daughter), Lina. The three of us spent most of the days either munching, snacking, or chatting about my journey, and our lives, while Nusaiba played around us. Rafiba is getting married in January and the preparations are still ongoing. We became pretty good friends and kind of like sisters, in a short while. They were both very welcoming, friendly, and had been eager to meet me. Rafiba’s brother Zaheen also dropped by every evening so I got to meet him and get to know him too. Rafiba is already studying at a university, but Zaheen will start from the next term this fall. He just finished college a few months back as well as his exams. Lina, meanwhile, is already in medical school.

That’s the thing many will find strange, that once a person starts at a university, he/she jumps right into the area of his/her concentration, whether it be pharmacy, business, medicine, or engineering. Those who start in medical school go directly into a five-year program. Once they complete the program, they’re full-fledged doctors but still have to do a residency.

That Sunday night, the 24th, I met with Adina and another friend, Maleya, for dinner at a sushi restaurant in the Gulshan residential area. Maleya also went to UNI with us and graduated with us, though not at the same time. The three of us were very good friends back in Iowa and always hung out together. After Maleya graduated, she came back to Dhaka with her mom. Her mom had come to Iowa to see her graduate. When Maleya left, neither nor I thought we’d see each other again, unless either she came back to Cedar Falls or I came to Dhaka. It was a great reunion for all three of us, and almost felt like it used to with one exception. Maleya has since gotten married and has a baby son, Zayaaf. He is so cute and looks like his mom.

After that reunion dinner, and after heading to the Sheraton Hotel lobby for some delicious ice-cream, Maleya dropped me back at Bonani. I felt like I was leaving one circle of friends and heading back toward another. I’m close to both sets of friends, but closer to particular people than a particular group.

This ice-cream incident reminds me of another place I went to earlier this week, either the 22nd or 23rd, with Adina and her family. After dinner, we headed for a popular spot well known for its variety of flavors. This is also why so many Westerners who live and work in Dhaka frequent this place. By Westerner, I am referring to Americans, British and other Europeans, and even though, I’m geographically wrong, in one sense of the word, I’m also referring to Australians and New Zealanders. My apologies; I can’t think of the name of this place right now.

After heaping a chocolate caramel and mocha special into a cup, I sat down with Adina’s family to chow down and people watch. I was curious to know what most Western women wear while in Bangladesh. Most there wore either salwar kameez sets or Bengali-designed tops and ankle-length skirts. I watched a group of people from very diverse backgrounds but they were on the other end of the seating areas, so I couldn’t hear what they were saying. It was still strange and comforting to be there because at that point, I really felt like I was back in the states in probably a more diverse city than Cedar Falls. Chicago, New York, San Antonio, Los Angeles, or Houston, maybe?

Progress!

In twenty years, shopping in Dhaka as I knew it has changed dramatically. Back in the day, people shopped for clothes and other items at open-air stalls at New Market, where crowds gathered like flies at a garbage dump. There were no grocery stores, and no malls. This time, several grocery stores like Nandan and Meena Bazaar and malls such as Bashundhara City and Pink City have been established. In addition, Dhaka now boasts shopping complexes such as Rifle Square in my neck of the woods, at Dhanmondi. What’s more, places like Chandni Chowk and Rapa Plaza have centralized individual clothing and cloth stores into one location. Both are located in buildings with a few stories each. The inside of both are labyrinthine, but one is different from the other in a few ways. Rapa Plaza is smaller but more modern with escalators, and has a parking center next to it. Chandni Chowk is still in aditional setting with staircases tucked in, what seemed to me at the time, towards the center.

I went to my first big mall at Bashundhara City on the 22nd, a Friday afternoon, and got to see how things had really changed. There is a food court on one side of the top floor and a movie theater on the other. Each floor boasts different items with mens clothing being on floor, women’s on another, electronics on the main floor, and jewelry on yet another. Escalators and elevators carry shoppers from one floor to another just as at any other modern mall.

I bought a new Samsung cell phone from a store that day. My mom had bought a Grameen Phone SIM card earlier and gotten it registered with them. When buying it, the clerk put installed the SIM and handed it back to me along with a cell phone charger. My mobile is on the low end of phones, at 3300 taka (the equivalent of just over $47) with just the basic features. At this time, I can’t afford a higher-priced phone.

I stayed with Adina until the next day when a change of plans led me to call my cousin, Rafiba, in Bonani to pick me up and take me to her parents’ house. The plan was to stay with my cousins and go back to Dhanmondi after her parents, my uncle and aunt (my mom’s sister) returned from Singapore. They had flown first to China not just for the Beijing Olympic Games opening ceremony but also because my uncle has business interests there, as well as many other places. They then stopped in Singapore because Rafiba’s brother will start college (the equivalent of the 11th and 12th grades in the states) there. His parents went there to see him settled in.

The education system in Bangladesh is based on the old British system, so that students go through kindergarten or 1st grade to 10th, as usual. At the end of the 10th grade, or class 10 as they also call it, students take the O-level exams, also called the metric level exam, and then enter into “college,” or the intermediate level. The scores they get on their O-levels play a big part on what college they can apply for and get admission. At the end of class 12, or their intermediate studies, students take the A-level exams.

Note that two students are taught at two-different mediums: the Bangla (or Bengali) medium school and the English-medium school. Medium refers to the language used in teaching students. Communication between teachers, students, and administrators is also carried out in that language, whether Bengali or English. Many students who want to get into a foreign university, especially in Canada, Australia, or the United Kingdom, take their IELTS exam. Others who want to come to the states may take the SAT but need to take the TOEFL exam. Those who apply to universities in these countries for graduate study also need to take either the IELTS or TOEFL in addition to the graduate exam in question, whether the MCAT, LSAT, GMAT, or GRE. I only mention these details because different people I’ll mention in future posts are at different levels in the Bangladeshi education system and I want no one who reads my posts to get confused.

As for me, because I’d completed both junior high and high school in the states, I didn’t need to take the TOEFL exam. I took the SAT in high school and the GRE afterwards. In fact, every time I applied for graduate school, I was exempt from the TOEFL.