Strolling back from lunch today (my first Bangladeshi lunch - consisting of 5 tonnnes of rice and tumeric coated vegetables and well disguised chillis - since my recent bout of gastro) I detoured past Kate's desk to ask if we were going for our usual lunchtime walk in the park, when I happened upon a huddled group of Bangladeshi colleagues.
I thought I'd stumbled upon a party... Yes, a 'let's get together at lunchtime and weight eachother party". FUN
"oooh, whats this? a party?" - Casey (poor, naive Casey)
"no, no Casey, ha ha. We are weighing ourselves...Mahkles is 79kg today. Let's weigh you! How fat do you think Casey is Khokan?" - Salma
"aaaah, no really it's okay" - Casey (oh the futility!)
"Just less than 60 I think" - Khokan
"Mmmm, I'd say 62 or 63" - Mahkles (Gee, thank you Mahkles!)
"No, I think 58kg" - Zia.
(Casey, manhandled onto the scales)
"oh, but I've just eated lunch...I have my shoes on and my orna and...let me put down this banana and my purse" - Casey (oh the futility!)
"mmm 59.8. mmm" - Salma.
Some mumbling from the others. I'm not hearing the words as, head down, used and defeated, I slink off to Kate's desk to warn her.
(There's no point not publishing it here, I'm almost certain everyone in the Communication Section were informed yesterday, and if other completely inappropriate all-staff emails are anything to go by, its probably a topic of conversation around the building)
Ah, the cultural differences. I can't imagine this popular lunchtime activity being well received in Australia somehow.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Oh My Buddha!
To think only last week, while freezing my bollocks off in Beijing, I was wishing to be back in the lovely Dhaka sunshine. Hmm! Now, I'm sitting in my hot Dhaka flat, sweating in a non-ladylike fashion, typing this by candle light because the power has gone out (for the eighth time today) and our building doesn't have a generator. Still, our new cleaning lady Rabeya started today, the house is spotless and I'm happy in the knowledge that I'm helping to support her family, never have to clean this flat or wash my clothes by hand again. It's the small things.
Anyway, back to China. If you can imagine two and a half weeks of pure, luxurious bliss, then you'll know what my time in China was like. Think: dumplings, noodles, spicy tofu, garlic spinach and brocoli, duck, hot pot and all the beer you can drink. Also, the quiet... no incessant car horns or rikshaw bells. Imagine, being able to sleep through the night. Imagine, not being woken at 5am by the call to prayer.
I met the lovely, ever-bubbly Emma at the Beijing airport in the very late hours of Friday the 13th and despite all superstitious concerns, it all went smoothly. Including checking in to possibly the greatest hostel find in the city.
Our first few days in Beijing were spent seeing Tiannamen Square, the Forbidden City, and White Pagoda and getting a sense of the city (particularly the bars). We met some lovely guys at the hostel on our second night, including a rather hilarious Spanish speaking Belgian, a friendly Melbournian and an American guy who worked on the Obama campaign (did you say the Obama Campaign? Why, Emma, aren't those the magic words? hmm). Anyway, Valentines evening was spent knocking back Tsingtao's in the hostel bar with those boys...good times.
From Beijing we flew south to the Yunnan Province. Arriving in Lijiang was like stepping into a magical land, and it was hard to leave. Imagine a labrynth of winding cobbled streets, quaint local handicrafts, rural village folk and the most delicious food. Add to this a million red lanterns (Chinese New Year), few tourists (well, few English speaking tourists anyway), a snow-capped mountain backdrop and you can see why I seriously contemplated packing it all in and staying.
The plan was to trek the Tiger Leaping Gorge from Lijiang, but unfortunately Emma got sick but it meant we had an extra day in Lijiang before catching a bus to Dali.
Dali in its own right is beautiful. But Dali after the magic of Lijiang was the ugly sister. And we wanted out, back to the buzz of a bigger city. On the eve of the day we were due to catch a bus to Kunming to catch a flight to Xi'An, Em (the networking guru that she is) shared a few beers with Jim (of Jim's Tibetan Peace Hotel - where we were conveniently staying). Turned out that Jim, his beautiful 4 year old daughter Julie and a cramped minivan of others were actually heading to Kunming the next day too....did we want to go with them? Why the hell not, we said, we're 'fly by the seat of our pants' gals!
So it was that we cashed in our bus tickets and embarked on a road trip with a bunch of strangers across China. Stopping every 30 minutes for a ciggie break. And for lunch at an 'interesting' roadside cafe (which we both later regretted - not least because we had a room with translucent bathroom walls...but we'll come to that later). Anyway, our heart-felt thanks to the lovely, generous and fabulous Jim (love you Jim!) who delivered us safely to the Kunming airport well before our flight.
With a few hours to kill, and some gastro to fight through, we turned on some Britney and busted out all our favorite's - to the great amusement of all who passed us by (most after standing nearby watching for some time...but each to their own. I might not normally listen to Britney, but that doesn't mean there isn't a time and place...and when Emma needs a pick-me-up, this works a treat!)
Anyway, this seemed to be the end of our run of good luck. We arrived into Xi'An at 1am, caught the shuttle into the city and jumped into a taxi (as the hostel advised) to take us 5 minutes up the street. Of course, nothing could have been simpler. Except that our tosspot driver took us somewhere else entirely. After some shouting and frantic phone calls we finally arrived (no earlier than 3am) at the worlds shittest International Youth Hostel. Where we checked into our shitty room that overlooked the Bell Tower (yes, beatiful except for the incessant traffic noise, the translucent bathroom wall, and dire shortage of toilet paper, on the only day when we are both suffering from gastro). Lovely.
The next morning we caught up with Rory, that friendly Melbournian I mentioned earlier (who was so taken with us - Emma mostly - that he decided to meet us in Xi'An for a few days of fun). Anyway, I'm not saying that Xi'An was horrible, it was okay, it just wasn't Lijiang and it wasn't Beijing. But it was okay. We did get out to see the Terracotta Warriors, which was cool, but not earth shattering - although we were impressed with the emporer's dedication to ensuring his safety in the afterlife. As Em so eloquently put it: "he was a bit paranoid, eh?" (which for me, was on par with her earlier "do you think in China they say 'oh my buddha', you know, instead of 'oh my god'?)
So it was with great anticipation that we left Xi'An for Beijing to see Pi and get to know Beijing through her eyes. We sang karaoke with her colleagues, ate some amazing duck, drank more beer, and met her lovely flatmates and friends. We even took some time out from eating and drinking and shopping to see the Great Wall (and delighted in the toboggan ride down!).
In the midst of all this there was mutiny in Bangladesh and I couldn't help but think I was missing out on history being made. So although we were having a brilliant time with Pi in Beijing, I realised I was actually excited to be heading back to Dhaka - back to my flat, my Matts and the rest of the Dhaka crew, the comfort of my salwar's, to some sunshine, to work and to the pretty incredible (if not uncompromisingly challenging) life we have here.
And I am glad to be 'home'. The break was exactly what I needed to remind me that luxury is only a short flight away, that my life here is fucking hard, but its also really rewarding and that the last four months has flown by and the next eight probably will too and I don't want to leave yet.
And in only four weeks my beautiful sister and her charming husband are coming to Dhaka (for god knows what reason really, Egypt I told them, EGYPT!) and I'm bloody excited to show them around.
Don't forget your ORS and Buscopan Bec, okay? And please bring extra for me...if there is room in your bags beside all the cheese and wine you're bringing your poor deprived sister! ;)
Anyway, back to China. If you can imagine two and a half weeks of pure, luxurious bliss, then you'll know what my time in China was like. Think: dumplings, noodles, spicy tofu, garlic spinach and brocoli, duck, hot pot and all the beer you can drink. Also, the quiet... no incessant car horns or rikshaw bells. Imagine, being able to sleep through the night. Imagine, not being woken at 5am by the call to prayer.
I met the lovely, ever-bubbly Emma at the Beijing airport in the very late hours of Friday the 13th and despite all superstitious concerns, it all went smoothly. Including checking in to possibly the greatest hostel find in the city.
Our first few days in Beijing were spent seeing Tiannamen Square, the Forbidden City, and White Pagoda and getting a sense of the city (particularly the bars). We met some lovely guys at the hostel on our second night, including a rather hilarious Spanish speaking Belgian, a friendly Melbournian and an American guy who worked on the Obama campaign (did you say the Obama Campaign? Why, Emma, aren't those the magic words? hmm). Anyway, Valentines evening was spent knocking back Tsingtao's in the hostel bar with those boys...good times.
From Beijing we flew south to the Yunnan Province. Arriving in Lijiang was like stepping into a magical land, and it was hard to leave. Imagine a labrynth of winding cobbled streets, quaint local handicrafts, rural village folk and the most delicious food. Add to this a million red lanterns (Chinese New Year), few tourists (well, few English speaking tourists anyway), a snow-capped mountain backdrop and you can see why I seriously contemplated packing it all in and staying.
The plan was to trek the Tiger Leaping Gorge from Lijiang, but unfortunately Emma got sick but it meant we had an extra day in Lijiang before catching a bus to Dali.
Dali in its own right is beautiful. But Dali after the magic of Lijiang was the ugly sister. And we wanted out, back to the buzz of a bigger city. On the eve of the day we were due to catch a bus to Kunming to catch a flight to Xi'An, Em (the networking guru that she is) shared a few beers with Jim (of Jim's Tibetan Peace Hotel - where we were conveniently staying). Turned out that Jim, his beautiful 4 year old daughter Julie and a cramped minivan of others were actually heading to Kunming the next day too....did we want to go with them? Why the hell not, we said, we're 'fly by the seat of our pants' gals!
So it was that we cashed in our bus tickets and embarked on a road trip with a bunch of strangers across China. Stopping every 30 minutes for a ciggie break. And for lunch at an 'interesting' roadside cafe (which we both later regretted - not least because we had a room with translucent bathroom walls...but we'll come to that later). Anyway, our heart-felt thanks to the lovely, generous and fabulous Jim (love you Jim!) who delivered us safely to the Kunming airport well before our flight.
With a few hours to kill, and some gastro to fight through, we turned on some Britney and busted out all our favorite's - to the great amusement of all who passed us by (most after standing nearby watching for some time...but each to their own. I might not normally listen to Britney, but that doesn't mean there isn't a time and place...and when Emma needs a pick-me-up, this works a treat!)
Anyway, this seemed to be the end of our run of good luck. We arrived into Xi'An at 1am, caught the shuttle into the city and jumped into a taxi (as the hostel advised) to take us 5 minutes up the street. Of course, nothing could have been simpler. Except that our tosspot driver took us somewhere else entirely. After some shouting and frantic phone calls we finally arrived (no earlier than 3am) at the worlds shittest International Youth Hostel. Where we checked into our shitty room that overlooked the Bell Tower (yes, beatiful except for the incessant traffic noise, the translucent bathroom wall, and dire shortage of toilet paper, on the only day when we are both suffering from gastro). Lovely.
The next morning we caught up with Rory, that friendly Melbournian I mentioned earlier (who was so taken with us - Emma mostly - that he decided to meet us in Xi'An for a few days of fun). Anyway, I'm not saying that Xi'An was horrible, it was okay, it just wasn't Lijiang and it wasn't Beijing. But it was okay. We did get out to see the Terracotta Warriors, which was cool, but not earth shattering - although we were impressed with the emporer's dedication to ensuring his safety in the afterlife. As Em so eloquently put it: "he was a bit paranoid, eh?" (which for me, was on par with her earlier "do you think in China they say 'oh my buddha', you know, instead of 'oh my god'?)
So it was with great anticipation that we left Xi'An for Beijing to see Pi and get to know Beijing through her eyes. We sang karaoke with her colleagues, ate some amazing duck, drank more beer, and met her lovely flatmates and friends. We even took some time out from eating and drinking and shopping to see the Great Wall (and delighted in the toboggan ride down!).
In the midst of all this there was mutiny in Bangladesh and I couldn't help but think I was missing out on history being made. So although we were having a brilliant time with Pi in Beijing, I realised I was actually excited to be heading back to Dhaka - back to my flat, my Matts and the rest of the Dhaka crew, the comfort of my salwar's, to some sunshine, to work and to the pretty incredible (if not uncompromisingly challenging) life we have here.
And I am glad to be 'home'. The break was exactly what I needed to remind me that luxury is only a short flight away, that my life here is fucking hard, but its also really rewarding and that the last four months has flown by and the next eight probably will too and I don't want to leave yet.
And in only four weeks my beautiful sister and her charming husband are coming to Dhaka (for god knows what reason really, Egypt I told them, EGYPT!) and I'm bloody excited to show them around.
Don't forget your ORS and Buscopan Bec, okay? And please bring extra for me...if there is room in your bags beside all the cheese and wine you're bringing your poor deprived sister! ;)
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