OH HAPPY DAYS!

As you can imagine, after three months of continuously wearing a plastic neck brace I was dying to get it off.  It's hot, fairly uncomfortable, and prevents me from looking around without twisting my entire body.  It makes it difficult to sleep, take a shower or walk on the street.  I am constantly backing into things (usually other people), or banging my legs into things because I can't look down easily.  My thighs haven't stop being bruised since I put the thing on.  It was supposed to come off in mid-July before I left Florida, but my sentence was extended another six weeks at that time.  Last week I was finally able to get new xrays done and send them back home.  The hospital in Bangladesh was an experience.  The xray equipment was somewhat modern, but also seemed to be acting up.  I am fairly sure that they ended up taking four or five xrays for every one that was needed - they'd line everything up, hide, a buzzing noise would ensue, and then they'd move it all over again (more than 20 times).  This went on for fifteen minutes, and in the end I only received four xrays.  You can't beat the cost though - about $20 for the xray films, digital xrays on a disk, and the radiologist's report.

I went back the next day to retrieve the CD, dashed home and e-mailed the images to my surgeon - and then found out his system wouldn't allow the attachments.  I almost cried.  Then my friend Michael came to the rescue.  He downloaded the images, burned them to a DVD, and sent the DVD by FEDEX to the surgeon the same day.  And today I heard from the surgeon.  I have healed enough that I can remove the collar on a daily basis, and just keep it on an as-needed basis.  And yet, I'm almost afraid to do so.  I've worn it so long that I feel very weird, naked and vulnerable without it.  After being in a great deal of pain after the two day trip to Asia, my pain levels have settled down over the past month.  I still have pain, but I'm hoping it will continue to dissipate, especially after I no longer have the collar pressing down on my shoulders and neck.  We'll see.  I have very little range of movement in my neck.  I hope this is from the muscles being essentially locked in place for three months, and not because my neck is so completely fused that it will no longer twist.  I'll have to see if I can get physical therapy to loosen things up.  I'll keep you posted.

Oh, here are some of the xrays of my bionic neck.  I still can't believe they got the titanium plate and huge piece of bone through the small incision in my neck.  Please consider being an organ donor.  My surgery wouldn't have been possible without a donor bone graft (or would have required surgery to remove bone from both of my own hips with considerable additional pain and recovery time).

 

A Trip to the Bazaar II

Here are more images from the Chowk Bazaar:

A man making grinding stones for herbs (and not miniature tombstones):

Other men making Indian goddesses for festivals:

Local children:

The Little Things

I've only been here a month and I think I've already been to every "major" grocery store in town.  Of course here, "major" means about the size of your average 7-11 with a selection to match.  Most carry some foreign goods, but none carry all the brands you'd like and you have to be very careful to check for expiration dates.  For example, only one store carries the brand of Thai yogurt that I like, and it's $1.50 per container.

Yesterday, however, I was granted access to the holy grail for shoppers in Dhaka - the U.S. Embassy Commissary.  It took a month, and you have to go through intense security to get in, but I now have an access card.  I suspect the large steel box through which you first enter (and in which every part of your car is searched) is not so much to prevent bombers from entering as it is to prevent Canadians and other non-Americans from trying to sneak in and shop.   

The commissary is small (also the size of a 7-11), and very overpriced, but stocks all of the necessities an expat needs:  Starbucks coffee, Snickers bars, Newmans Own salad dressings and Spagettios.  Who cares if a box of Triscuits is $7.00!!  Who wouldn't gladly pay $25.00 for a bottle of Tide detergent?!  There was a long line for the only checkout, so we were eating M&Ms and Lays in the aisles.  It was bliss.  We bought so much food that the car was bottoming out on the drive home.  And yet - I wonder if they're open today??  What if they run out of Mountain Dew?  I think I better go now.

A City of Contrasts

Dhaka is a city of contrasts, and I think these two photos really epitomize the contrast between abject poverty and wealth - huge luxury condos being built in the midst of shanty towns.

Ramadan

We're now about a third of the way through Ramadan, the Islamic holy month of fasting.  I live right across from a new mosque, and the calls to prayer have been particularly creative since Ramadan began.  You can definitely tell that the caller (who often sings now) is trying to outdo the other callers in the area.  Here's the mosque:

One aspect of Ramadan is giving alms to the poor.  The street outside my house has been full of beggars since I got here, but particularly so since Ramadan began.  Friday (the holy day), for the first time, they actually posted a policeman to keep everyone at the end of the street and away from the Mosque.  Cars and rickshaws would slow as they left and hand out food to the beggars.  This worked well until one woman broke from the crowd and raced for the mosque.  The others soon followed and the policeman gave up and went home.

Muslims are supposed to fast from dawn to dusk every day during Ramadan.  After the dusk call to prayers, people go to Iftar dinners to break the fast with friends.  A group of us were invited to an Iftar last Friday.  The food was great - figs and dates, fresh vegetables and different fried appetizers, followed by lamb and rice, fried eggplant, more cooked vegetables and two amazing desserts.  It was way too much food and I can't imagine eating it every day on an empty stomach.  I've been invited to another Iftar in two weeks and will definitely go.

Water, Water (almost) Everywhere

I've been quite surprised by the weather here.  I was expecting extreme heat like Florida and daily monsoon rains.  Instead, we've only had a few days that were oppressively hot, and just a few big rain storms.  Mind you, when it rains the heavens open up for an hour.  Daily temperatures are probably only in the 80's in the daytime and 70's at night.  We even get cool breezes in the evening.  I've requested that the school screen in my balcony so that I can sit out and enjoy the evenings (without having to worry about Dengue Fever).  It has been so unseasonably dry that the farmers are having to buy water - quite unusual for a city that normally gets over six feet of rain per year and is built on a giant flood plain. 

I'm getting used to the power outages.  Yesterday, however, I had just finished lathering up in the shower when the water sputtered and died.  No one had warned me about losing water as well.  I thought the other showers might have a little water left in the pipes, so I dashed (as much as you can dash when covered in soap, aren't wearing your glasses and have a wet, dripping neck brace) to the other bathroom hoping no one could see through my as yet not curtained windows.  Thankfully there was enough to get the worst of the soap off.  I wonder if I should start keeping a bucket of water beside the shower?!

The Social Life

Wow, a week between posts.  I have been busy.  School is now in full swing.  I'm having to spend a lot of time preparing for my economics classes.  They are two year long classes, so the seniors studied economics last year - about 25 years more recently than I last did.  And as juniors and seniors, they aren't as easily fooled or bluffed as the freshmen I've been teaching the past four years.  It will probably be easier once I've had a chance to review most of the major concepts and establish my academic superiority.  And next year will be a breeze.

There really isn't much in the way of entertainment in Dhaka.  I believe there is one movie theater, but it only has two screens and is probably in Bangla.  There is a huge, modern mall on the outskirts of town that was completed about two years ago.  But then the builder was imprisoned for fraud (apparently) and it has been sitting empty ever since.

So that leaves the clubs, some restaurants and entertaining at home.  The restaurants can't serve alcohol, but will allow you to bring wine and will provide wine glasses.  We tried the most popular Italian restaurant last Friday.  Some of the entrees were amazing, some were very mediocre, and all were overpriced.  A single pizza was $7 (more than I pay my cook or driver for a day).  I am really missing coal fired pizza now.

The Australian Club is the place to be on Thursday nights (for Happy Hour), and a group of us went a week ago.  We don't have our American Club cards (and thus reciprocity) yet, so we have to rely on the kindness of Australians to let us in (but they are a friendly bunch).  They have a nice open air bar next to the pool at which we can fortify ourselves against malaria.  I can see now that the British Empire in Asia would never have happened without gin and tonic.

This was followed up by Dart Dudes - a weekly men-only party hosted by a chemistry teacher.  He brews his own beer and gin, and I have to say they were both pretty tasty.  He distills his alcohol one more time than commercial distillers do, and you could really tell the difference.  The purpose is actually (supposedly) darts and not drinking, and I was somewhat apprehensive.  The host is very serious about darts and pointed out that he had the most expensive darts you can buy anywhere.  I had visions of being the first one to send one of these beautiful little missiles sailing into the concrete wall or his TV set, thus ruining the dart and my social life for the next two years.  It didn't help that all of the other guys were teasing me about being able to throw a dart with my neck brace.  Fortified with the courage that only good alcohol can provide, I stepped up to the line, loosened my arms, rolled up my sleeves . . . and threw the first bullseye of my life.  I then turned to the crowd, smiled and said I was finished, and sat down.  Of course they made me get back up and actually play a game, and I was able to hold my own.

At the same time, the Dart Widows hold another party in a different apartment.  I was warned that no one with a penis was allowed to cross the threshold.  The woman with whom I share a car was attending that party, so I had to stop in on the way home to see if she needed a ride.  I cautiously held the door frame, stuck only my head inside (figuring they wouldn't throw things at the neck brace) and asked to see her.  After three hours of drinking they had loosened up enough to actually let a man in and I stayed for one more drink and some more food.

I also attended TV night on Wednesday.  The host rotates (and chooses the shows to download) and everyone else BYOB's and brings food.  It was so nice to actually watch TV again after so long, and the food was great.  We watched three CTV shows that I had never heard of (for good reason, I now know).  I had been flaunting my Canadian citizenship until now; this made me question that decision.

I'm learning that manners really matter here.  You never crash a party.  Several of the new girls crashed the Dart Widows party and were warned that they risked being blackballed for the rest of their time here if it ever happened again.  And everyone sends written thank you notes.  Thank goodness I brought some stationery with me.  Thanks mom for giving it to me all those years ago.

I'm off to a Ramadan Iftar dinner tonight.

Blinded by the White

Here are some photos of my apartment.  I don't think I've ever lived anywhere where every surface was white.  As soon as I can get a little ahead at school, I'm going to start decorating.  We're allowed to repaint and can buy curtains and throw rugs.  We can also reupholster the furniture, but shouldn't everyone have a sofa with tassels and fake fur?!  Please (PLEASE) send decorating ideas.

The Living Room

The Dining Room

The Guest Bedroom

The Master BR

The Office

I'm Not in Kansas Anymore

This is an amazing place for students.  Not only does the school have great financial resources, but the teaching staff is phenomenal.  We have 40 teachers and learning specialists in the high school for only 200 students (about a 1:5 ratio).  I teach popular classes so three of them have 16-20 students, but two others are very small (4 and 5 students).

I think I've gone through the looking glass and been transported to the set of an Asian version of Pleasantville.  The students are exactly what I hoped to find - friendly, very polite and funny.  A number of them are very concerned about my neck injury, and genuinely want me to recover quickly.  They mass outside the doors five minutes before class begins so they won't be late, which is quite a change from searching for frequently tardy or missing students.  This week my grade 12 class and I realized that the old teacher had forgotten to leave two sets of student research papers that are necessary for graduation.  If I don't find the papers, the students will have to redo the work.  In the U.S. the students would have been yelling and calling their parents to complain.  These students seemed nonplussed and I even had them laughing when I suggested that we each pitch in $50 to send someone to find the teacher in Saudi Arabia (and kick his ass).  The students also seem years behind American students in social development.  I don't think premarital sex and teen pregnancy are going to be major issues here.  That is not to say that some of the boys don't have drooping beltlines and some of the girls don't try to show a little too much skin, but it seems more wholesome somehow.  I do suspect that some serious drinking goes on, but I'm not getting the impression that drugs (other than a little marijuana) are a problem here at all.  I'll be interested to see later if my first impressions are accurate.

This week we spent several half days in trust exercises and community building games.  The kids had a blast and we all got to know each other better.  They finished up on the school's climbing wall.  I will have to screw up the courage to try it sometime while I am here (if I can get my feet and hands to stop shaking long enough to even reach the first foothold).  We also did skits on the major school rules.  My advisory had technology, and we did everything you're not supposed to do.  I don't think anyone will soon forget the infamous line - "I need to use the computer to get on www.hotstuff.com.  It's like Hotmail only better."  The teachers did a fashion faux pas show with baggy pants, inappropriate t-shirts and other clothing, and one teacher in drag with a miniskirt, purple pumps, a tight top and a pink wig.  We made sure all of the cameras and phones were put away before we started!  I had a great time emceeing it.


So, I survived my first week and am ready for a great year!

Electricity, What Electricity?

We live in the diplomatic zone in Dhaka, the capital of Bangladesh, and are supposed to have the most reliable power in the country.  Even so, the power cuts out for rolling blackouts on a regular basis, and often at unexpected times.  I can't imagine what it's like in the rural areas.  Everyone just ignores the blackouts and continues with what they were doing.  In most of our buildings a generator will kick in after 5 seconds or so and at least provide limited lighting.  Unfortunately you do lose your AC, internet and kitchen appliances.  Alas, building codes are not up to worldwide standards here.  A few nights ago, the generator in one of the teacher apartment buildings did not shut off when the power came back on.  This resulted in an explosion and fire in the main circuit breaker, and then the transformers down the power line blew as the generator continued to run.  Fortunately the building is concrete, so most of the damage was from the smoke.   Apparently last year a new building was going up in our neighborhood.  Someone had grounded the satellite dish to the gas line (well, it is a metal pipe that goes into the ground).  As you can imagine, during a lightening storm the gas line blew.  Fortunately no one was living there yet.  It makes me very glad I am living in an older building that is time tested.    

My New Driver

The school provides us with vehicles, maintenance and gas.  They also provided drivers for the first two weeks, but then we had to hire our own.  The school pre-screened drivers and had about 30 show up on Tuesday.  We sat in a conference room and they waited in a long line in the hall.  It was horrible!  They all looked so eager, and they all really need work.  I share a car with another teacher and she couldn't go out to the hall to choose candidates.  I had to go out and just grab the first person in line.  There was no way I was going to walk down the line and pick someone else.  It brought back memories of grade school, when I would be one of the last picked for gym class teams.  Back then not being picked only meant I was not a good athlete, and not that I might not be able to feed my family this year.  We ended up interviewing four candidates (I couldn't go out to the hall a fifth time), and chose the driver with the best English, most experience, and, most importantly, the largest family to support.  Abdul starts Saturday.

Shopping

Similar to many Asian countries, in Bangladesh most of the shops do not have fixed prices.  The shopkeeper gives you an inflated price, you counter with something half that amount or less, and you haggle until you reach agreement or walk away.  I always thought we were still paying too much even so.  This is, of course, a relative concept.  If you are satisfied with the price (which is usually much less than you'd pay in the States), does it really matter if local people can get the item for less?  We went shopping a few days ago.  One of the teachers was able to buy two shower curtains (and hooks) for the equivalent of $8.00, which we all thought was a good price.  He got home and realized he needed two more, so he sent his housekeeper out for them.  The housekeeper paid $2.00 for two more of the same ones.  Moral of the story - let your housekeepers do all of your shopping.  The housekeepers apparently add 10-15% to the price of everything as their take, but we now know that everyone still comes out ahead.  Everything is done in cash, and the housekeepers write down all of the expenses in a ledger book.  There are few receipts, so we keep the housekeepers honest by occasionally giving the ledger books to someone who has lived here a long time and having them check some of the prices.  I think most housekeepers and drivers are also honest because it is so difficult to find work, and working for expats is a great job.  If they are caught stealing or padding the ledger book too much, they're fired and blackballed by the entire expat community.   

River Cruise

We had a blast on Sunday night.  One of the teachers owns a share in several river boats, so we took a dinner cruise.  The boats have large decks covered in cushions, and it was so relaxing cruising down the river . . . until we hit the party boats.  It was a holiday of some sort, and we'd hear blaring Indian dance music coming down the river.  Then one of these boats filled with dancing young men (and no women) would appear.  The picture is of the last boat we saw - I suspect they were all tired out at this point.  One of the teachers commented that it was like a floating gay pride parade, although they are probably all straight.  The drive to the river was treacherous.  There is only a one lane road (and many one lane bridges) with a lot of traffic.  And we passed through a number of villages where the road between buildings was just inches wider than the bus.  I really don't know how the drivers stay so calm, but they are so good at their jobs.  We have to do this if any of you come to visit.

I Arrived in Bangladesh

I can't believe I am now a resident of Bangladesh.  The flight over was pretty brutal - Qatar Airways has pretty uncomfortable seats and mediocre service - but a few sleeping pills took care of half of the flight time.  And the school personnel were able to meet us at the gate and walk us through customs and immigration relatively quickly.

We spent the first three days getting used to the time difference and our new homes.  There are 20 new teachers in my "class" and everyone is really nice.  I'm finding it very strange living in a situation in which there is someone to do anything for you.  My new bearer (housekeeper/cook), Thomas, speaks English pretty well and really works to keep me happy.  He's quickly gotten the house set up with supplies and is a pretty decent cook.  So far I haven't made a request that he couldn't handle.  The house itself is a three bedroom apartment just five blocks from school.  Even though we have cars and drivers, I'll probably walk to school just for the exercise.  The food here is amazing - very much like Indian food but with regional specialties.  Every meal has been a feast of new tastes.  The local fruits are fantastic, especially the mangoes which are much smaller and sweeter than those at home.  We've been eating them at every meal and dreading the end of mango season in a few weeks.

The school itself is really nice.  With only 10 days until the students arrive, there is an army of workers sprucing the place up.  They built a new science wing over the past six months, and are fixing and painting everything on campus.  The smell of fresh paint fills the air.

Bangladesh is more advanced than I expected in many ways.  They have really fast internet, and it's installed the day you call.  The country is very eco conscious.  Plastic shopping bags are not allowed (the nicer stores provide cloth bags) and the school recycles and composts all food waste and uses it to fertilize the gardens.

But it is still a developing country.  Even though the tap water looks fine, it has typhoid and many other bacteria and viruses.  You shouldn't use it to brush your teeth or open your mouth in the shower.  Drinking water must first be boiled for five minutes and then run through a huge water filter with five different stages.  You can't drink local milk without first boiling it.  Instead we use Australian powdered milk with purified water.  It really takes me back to my childhood when my grandparents used powdered milk.  So far, though, only one teacher has gotten Bangla Belly.

We learned Friday of the benefits of being embassy employees.  We were out exploring the town when we came across a large demonstration of garment workers.  The security officer got our driver on the phone and directed us around town trying to avoid any potential riots.  When we realized our part of town was completely blocked off, we took refuge in a five star hotel for a really amazing lunch.  The irony that we were stuck in a luxury hotel because people were demonstrating  to get living wages (the lowest paid garment workers receive $35/month, which even here is far below a living wage) really struck me.  It felt very wrong that we were having a lunch that cost more than a month's wages, and definitely took some of the enjoyment out of lunch.  When we were finally allowed to leave, the government allowed us to cut through a military base to avoid any further trouble.  I know we weren't ever in any danger, but it was nice knowing we had all of the background support if needed.

The traffic here is as bad as or worse than any other country I have visited.  And yet it does move.  It's almost a living organism, with vehicles weaving in and out like water flowing around rocks in a river or blood in an artery.  Traffic does not move quickly enough to cause any serious accidents, although you see a lot of near misses.  Our drivers are fearless, going where they want and just honking as necessary (which is most of the time).  I'm really glad I read the book Shantaram last year.  So much that the author described about India is also true here.  You don't stop for accidents.  Apparently a crowd will form, decide who is at fault and punish the guilty party.  One of the diplomats had an accident last year and his car was flipped by the crowd, and he and his driver were pulled out and badly beaten.  We were also told that beggars are part of a "mafia" and any money given to them is not going to help them.  Instead the school has major community service projects that last an entire year.  Each student and teacher works on one of the projects on a regular basis.  I have chosen the agency that helps local street children, and can't wait to get started.  This is going to be so much more meaningful than the mandatory service at my other schools.