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Sundarban 2012

2012-01-28T06:58:00.000-08:00

Here are photos from a trip to Sundarban I took last week. Sundarban in southwestern Bangladesh (and a smaller fraction in India) is the largest contiguous mangrove forest and ecosystem in the world. It is the home of the Royal Bengal Tiger as well as countless varieties of flaura and fauna.

Sundarban can only be visited by boat. Several companies offer tours there. Boats start from Khulna, and you have to get there from Dhaka by train, bus or plane (or private car of course.) I have used Guide Tours twice. They are excellent. By the time you add up everything, a trip can run you between 20000 and 40000 Taka, depending on length, luxury of boat and whether you fly.

Osprey with fish. The Osprey is a legendary fish-eater bird.

Our boat, Guide Tours' MV Aboshar.

Flock of ducks near Mongla.

Common kingfisher.

We saw two crocodiles. This was the first.

Nypa palm (golpata), used for making thatched roofs.

Gewa trees on Kotka beach. Gewa is called Blinding Mangrove because its latex can blind.

Boroi tree whose bottom is "pruned" at the height the deer can reach.

Dome-shaped spider web in a canal.

Shikre, a bird of prey.

Otters crossing the canal. They were extremely shy.

Great Egret (Boro Bok.)

Water monitor, also known as Kalo Gui Shap.

Brahminy kite (shonkho chil.)

The road less traveled.

Boardwalk at Harbaria Visitor center.

Fiddler crab.

Fresh tiger pugmark on wet mud. Off the boardwalk at Harbaria.

Great Egrets.

Goodbye beautiful Sundarban.

Great Egret

2012-01-22T00:15:00.000-08:00

Great Egret, known as Boro Bok in Bangla. In Sundarban.

Temporary Setup for a Religious Gathering

2012-01-10T19:05:00.001-08:00

This is in Ashuganj, taken on January 8th.

My Father's Tree

2012-01-08T17:28:00.001-08:00

January 7 was my father's fourth death anniversary.

He is buried at the graveyard at Dargah near the mausoleum of Hajrat Shah Jalal, a Muslim saint from the thirteenth century.

My father spent many of his last days in Sylhet, his birthplace. He had an office up on a hill in Rainagar where he spent several hours a day. He was specially kind to the poor children around that neighborhood and often gave them food and gifts and took them around in his microbus.

On this day I go to Sylhet. Buying two goats, rice and other cooking material, I get the cooks at the Dargah to make a large pot of akhni polao, a Sylhet-style biriyani.

Then I divide the polao into packets and them distribute among the children of Rainagar. This is probably what would have made my father happy.

Forty years ago, my father's office was in Dhaka's Dilkusha, near the President House, which was closed to the public. Inside President House were these graceful, tall trees called Buddha Narikel (Pterygota Alata.)

One day my father paid a guard at President House ten taka to bring him some seeds that had dropped from the trees. He then planted them.

This is one of the trees he planted. The photo was taken on a stormy night. The tree is 6-7 stories tall now.

May you rest in peace, Mr. Ahmed Kabir Choudhury.

Friends

2012-01-06T07:04:00.000-08:00

At Lalbagh Kella this afternoon. Although it was a grey day, the temperature was just right.

Happy New Year

2012-01-02T02:52:00.000-08:00

Happy new year! Hope that 2012 is a great year for you.

Balloon

2011-12-19T05:26:00.000-08:00

I was at Suhrawardy Udyan on Victory day, 16th December, with thousands of other people. It was great fun.

At one point they brought out this hot-air balloon (with the requisite equipment - a pretty expensive setup) and inflated it.

But they never released it. People were waiting... and waiting... but eventually they deflated it.

Does anyone know the story on this? The weather seemed ok for a balloon flight.

Happy Victory Day

2011-12-15T19:06:00.001-08:00

Flag Seller in Old Dhaka.

ebooks, Amazon, Apple

2011-12-10T20:49:00.000-08:00

I wrote about the emergence of ebooks in this week's Tangents but there are some things I left out for various reasons.

One is the EU (and now US govt) investigation of whether Apple colluded with some top publishers on the ebooks front (price-fixing).

The issue here is, there is hardly any material cost involved, why do ebooks have to cost so much?

Anyways, the battle between Amazon and Apple on this front promises to be an epic one. Amazon, to their credit, have tried to keep prices down - for a long time most Kindle books were selling for $10. But when Apple introduced iPad, things changed, I think, because the publishers now had a choice and Apple was more amenable to their pricing schemes. Amazon, otoh, was apparently quite tough with publishers.

In the meantime, I understand that Barnes and Noble is betting their entire farm, so to speak, on the Nook.

I have not seen the new Kindle Fire yet, so do not know how good their graphic display is, but it is Amazon's volley against Apple in the ebooks wars. But ipad has a leg up on the b/w Kindle when it comes to illustrated and photo books. OTOH, the Kindle is great for reading text. Really great.

Narrative Non-fiction

2011-12-01T23:00:00.001-08:00

I just re-read a speech on the long-form narrative that I find fascinating, because every time I read it I glean something new from it. Good stuff from the editor of the New York Times Magazine.

For example, having recently acquired a Kindle and an iPad, I read his observations about reading substantive things on electronic devices with renewed appreciation.

Incidentally, it is the New Yorker which excels (or maybe excelled) in this kind of journalism: in-depth and broad coverage of a particular issue by a journalist who spent several months digging in and writing about it. In the 90s, some of their reports of events in Africa, Balkans and parts of Asia, as well as those on health/medicine, innovation and technology, etc were astonishing.

I am thinking, in particular, of the non-fiction of Malcolm Gladwell (Outliers), Richard Preston (The Hot Zone), Atul Gawande (from the frontlines of medicine and surgery) and others. Just amazing stuff.

Speaking of which, there is plenty of raw material right here in Bangladesh for this kind of in-depth reporting (and it does not all have to be negative - there are many positive stories, too...) And while the NY Times Magazine spends over $40,000 for one of these stories, ours can be done on a much smaller budget.

Would the reading public pay for anything like this? Or, perhaps more relevant, would the advertisers see value in it?

(Thanks to Mahmud Rahman for pointing me to this article.)

Critical Mass 3 Bicycle Ride

2011-11-24T23:37:00.000-08:00

Riders of all sizes came, small ones...

...and big ones...

...some were excited...

... while others enjoyed the winter sunshine...

There were athletic riders...

... and relaxed ones...

... and others who needed no hand!

Expats joined in, including Australians...

... and this American girl who traveled in style...

Of course the local girl had her own style...

...as the victory sign ruled the day...

... and while Dhak and Dhol played...

... the boys found time for dancing a quick jig...

So with thanks to all the organizers ...

... I say to the the riders who joined in the fun...

... until the next time my friends, ride safely!

Critical Mass #3

2011-11-23T23:50:00.000-08:00

The third critical mass bicycle ride is tomorrow (25 Nov). There is a meetup at 7am at Gulshan 2 circle and the actual ride is from Manik Mia Ave in front of Parliament at 8am.

Should be fun and not too strenous!

Just to set expectations about timing... For CM #2, I could not find the Gulshan group at 7am and so rode by myself to Manik Mia Avenue. The group there did not start until about 9:30 (even though it was scheduled for 8 am I think.)

Lots of time to hang around and make friends. It was fun anyways.

Hay You!

2011-11-20T03:34:00.000-08:00

There, now that I have your attention...

Two attractions for the Dhaka Hay festival tomorrow, Nov 21st:

a) Commonwealth Prize winning writer Tahmima Anam's second novel A Good Muslim will be launched in Bangladesh, published by Prothoma. She will be signing the books at 11:30 am tomorrow at British Council.

b) Writer's Block, a group of talented Bangladeshi writers, will launch What The Ink?, an anthology of shorts, extracts and poems. Writers are: Awrup Sanyal, Farah Ghuznavi, Saad Z Hussain, Munize Manzur, Masud Khan Shujon, Iffat Nawaz, Samir A Rahman, Lori Simpson, M K Aaref, Sabrina F Ahmed, Saadaf S Siddiqi, Srabonti N Ali, Sal Imam, Tisa Muhaddes and Shazia Omar.

Congratulations to all for their accomplishments!

Hay Festival

2011-11-15T17:31:00.000-08:00

The Hay Festival of Literature and the Arts is coming to Dhaka on 21 November. It is a one day program "bringing together writers and thinkers from Bangladesh and Britain to share stories and ideas in the spirit of Rabindranath Tagore in this his 150th anniversary year." Lots of luminaries will be taking part. More details at the festival website.

Storyteller

2011-11-09T18:34:00.000-08:00

Here is a Bangladeshi writer who is active in the international fiction scene. Farah Ghuznavi's short stories have appeared in two consecutive volumes of Curbside Splendor, a literary magazine from Chicago.

Digging deeper, I discover that Ms. Ghuznavi's stories have also appeared in several other anthologies including "Woman's Work: Short Stories" (USA), "The Rainbow Feast" (Singapore) and "Journeys"(UK). Another short story recently won a "Highly Commended" honor in the Commonwealth Short Story Competition.

I think of Ms. Ghuznavi as the writer of "Food for Thought", the long-running column in the Star magazine (The Daily Star.) While she still writes that, Ms. Ghuznavi is now focused on writing fiction and thinks of herself primarily as a fiction writer.

The transition came about in 2005, when she was enraged upon reading about the abuse of a maid in a well-off home. She thought about writing a column attacking such abuses but realized it would not be effective in reaching those she wanted to target. So, on the advice of her editor (the inimitable Aasha Ameen), she decided to write a story, her first. It was about a young girl who comes to work in a home in the city. The poignant, powerful story is here.

This opened the floodgates of her story-writing, many based on her experiences as a development worker, and she has never looked back.

Curbside Splendor is available from the publisher and also from Amazon, both in paper and Kindle form. The publisher has a special offer on the two volumes in which Ms. Ghuznavi's stories are featured. Go get them while they last!

Touring Old Dhaka

2011-11-04T19:15:00.000-07:00

During Eid, Dhaka's streets empty out as people head home to their village for Eid. So it is a good time to explore Dhaka without the traffic madness.

I have a route that I often follow when friends and relatives ask me to take them on a tour of old Dhaka. This route takes 3-4 hours and covers several highlights. Note that you should call ahead to find the timing of gated places, such as Lalbagh or the Church.

Anyways... the route is described in my Tangents column today.

If you have a car, you can get dropped off in front of the Court and get picked up in front of Dhakeswari Temple at the end of your tour.

Critical Mass Bicycle Ride

2011-11-01T18:12:00.001-07:00

I went for the second Critical Mass ride last Friday. There were over 200 bicyclists! The ride started from the Parliament Building and went towards Dhanmandi where a group photo was taken at the Amphitheatre near the Road 8 bridge. Then we rode towards Panthopath, in front of Sonargaon hotel, and towards Tejgaon Industrial area, all the way to Gulshan 1 and 2. At Gulshan 2, it turned left and headed back towards the Parliament building.

It was great fun. Unfortunately I did not have a camera. But here is a video that someone posted on YouTube (Hat Tip: Anwar)

A few weeks ago, I was out bicycling during a hartal. I ran into a group of bicyclists in front of the National Museum and rode with them to Shahid Minar. Here are some photos from that day (this is much smaller than the Critical Mass ride):

There is an active and thriving recreational bicycling community in Dhaka. I know of at least two clubs, Royal Bengal Riders and BDCyclists, who organize rides on weekends. Some rides are short, others are longer and tougher. Both groups have Facebook pages where you can get more information.

Sarail Hounds

2011-10-30T01:40:00.000-07:00

I first heard about the Sarail hound - a genuine Bangladeshi product - from Mahboob Zaman, the president of BASIS. We were driving to Sylhet in 2006 for a talk at SUST, and as we passed the road to Sarail, Mahboob Bhai mentioned "Shorail-er kukur," and we had a short discussion.

Later I met Kaiser Amin and learned that he has Sarail hounds. At the prodding of a few other people I decided to dig into it. Kaiser was very hospitable and allowed me ample time and patience with the dogs. His knowledge of the matter is encyclopedic.

Anyways, Sarail hound was the topic of my Tangents column yesterday in the Daily Star.

Here are a couple more photos that did not make it to the newspaper.

btw, if you are looking for past issues of Tangents, all the columns (55) are archived at facebook.com/tangents.ikabir

Tangents Updates

2011-04-15T22:00:00.000-07:00

There is now a FaceBook page for Tangents, my weekly column in the Daily Star. You will find all links to all past columns there. Please check it out!

All Tangents

2011-01-09T21:03:00.000-08:00

List of all my Tangents columns so far in the Daily Star:

Mar 19, 2011 Spring in Baldha Garden
Mar 12, 2011 Vehicle Signs
Mar 5, 2011 Larger Than Life
Feb 26, 2011 Praising Brevity
Feb 19, 2011 A Slippery Remedy
Feb 12, 2011 A Day to Remember
Feb 5, 2011 A Passion for Pigeons
Jan 29, 2011 Boi Mela 2010
Jan 22, 2011 Columns from Istanbul
Jan 15, 2011 Renewal at Nimtoli
Jan 8, 2011 Stocks, Alchemy and Sir Isaac Newton
Jan 1, 2010 A Winter's Morning
Dec 25, 2010 My Favourite Trees
Dec 11, 2010 One Morning in Victoria Park
Dec 4, 2010 The Colour of Jhal-Muri
Nov 27, 2010 Manipuri Raash Mela
Nov 20, 2010 The Pleasure of Reading
Nov 13, 2010 My Bhutti Adventure
Nov 6, 2010 Dressmaker to Royalty
Oct 30, 2010 Autumn? Really?
Oct 23, 2010 Have you been Uncle'd?
Oct 16, 2010 Malcolm Gladwell and the Deshi Mother
Oct 9, 2010 Village Rain

Happy New Year!

2010-12-31T00:42:00.000-08:00

May 2011 be a good year for you!

21 from 2010

2010-12-24T04:43:00.000-08:00

Here are some favorites from 2010. There is no particular theme or story, but I hope they convey something about the joys and sorrows of life in Bangladesh.

1. Menda tree (aka Sengfisla)

2. Hibiscus blossom (aka Hoilfa, or Chukka. Hat-tip Monowar and Maharufa)

3. A wildflower called Jhaoa.

4. Phayre's Lemur (Choshma Bador).

5. Squirrel caught in the act.

6. Koromcha fruit.

7. Maanja (the sharpening of kite strings for kite-fights).

8. Boishakhi girl (new year's).

9. World Cup Soccer painting.

10. Soccer game in Lalbagh Kella.

11. Mother reading to her children at book fair.

12. Rath Festival in Sylhet.

13. Someone get me out of this traffic!

14. Burnt motorcycles after Nimtoli fire.

15. Waiting for Launch before Eid.

16. Iftar in old Dhaka.

17. Chatpati stand.

18. Boxin man.

19. Woman in the bus.

20. Rose Pose.

21. Family on Victory Day.

More Tangents

2010-11-28T19:23:00.000-08:00

Some of my recent columns ("Tangents") in the Daily Star:

Manipuri Raash Mela

The Pleasure of Reading

My Bhutti Adventure

Dressmaker to Royalty

Autumn? Really?

Enjoy!

Eid Mubarak!

2010-11-15T22:05:00.000-08:00

Eid Mubarak everyone! May this Eid bring peace and blessings in your life.

Two New Tangents

2010-10-26T23:02:00.000-07:00

Two more tangents that appeared the last two Saturdays.

Have you been Uncle'd?

Malcolm Gladwell and the Deshi Mother

I hope you enjoy reading them. Feedback and comments are always welcome!

Tangents

2010-10-08T21:23:00.000-07:00

Tangents, a weekly column of photo+text, starts on Page 2 today in the Daily Star. By yours truly. Enjoy, and of course feedback is always welcome!

A Commendable Effort

2010-10-03T23:22:00.000-07:00

I just got the second issue of Nature Quest magazine, published by the Daily Star. As far as I know, it is the only full-color magazine in Bangladesh devoted to wildlife and nature.

It has features on Hoolock Gibbons (the pride of Lawachhera Forest), Green Pigeons, a rare frog, native orchids and flowers, as well as other writing and photos on nature by some dedicated and hard-working wildlife experts from Bangladesh.

It is a very commendable effort. If you have children growing up in Bangladesh, it is a fantastic educational tool for them. And it is a great read for everyone else, specially if you are the type who enjoys National Geographic. Kudos to all those who worked so hard to get this magazine off the ground. Please keep up the good work.

The magazine costs Tk. 50 and is available from newsstands as well as the Star office in Kawran Bazar. Some places you can buy it are: Nandan Megashop, Pathak Shomabesh (Aziz Supermarket), GyanKosh, etc. Best Tk 50 you will spend this year.

The Deluge

2010-09-28T08:51:00.000-07:00

This afternoon I was in Farm Gate and got caught in an unseasonable, heavy downpour. Along with about 2000 other people I found shelter in the porch of Anondo cinema. I had my camera with me and took some pictures. (Click on the photos for larger size.)

The skies darkened around 4pm...

... at first it pitter-pattered...

...and then, boy oh boy, it came down really hard.

Some were well-prepared...

...while others tried their best with what was on hand...

...and yet others gave up.

Meanwhile... in the bus, being close to the door spelt trouble...

...while those seated inside only had to worry about steamed up windows.

Kids got along famously with the rain...

... as did some adults!

At the Chawk Iftar Market

2010-09-06T00:54:00.000-07:00

Chawk Bazar in old Dhaka is the largest wholesale market in Bangladesh. On a normal weekday it sees frenetic activity as trucks, pushcarts and people push, pull, pedal, and carry large quantities of merchandise ranging from shoes to candy to clothing to pots and pans against a backdrop of wheeling and dealing by the canny Dhakaiya businessmen.

During Ramzan, however, the commercial activity grinds to a halt each afternoon as Chawk hosts the largest Iftar market in Dhaka.

Having been here before, I know to get an early start. It is impossible to get all the way to Chawk by car (unless one wants to single-handedly cause a traffic jam) so I leave mine two kilometers away and walk. Passing the far corner of the Central Jail’s wall I turn right into Chawk square. The market is still a hundred feet away, but I can already smell the fusion of flavors – spicy, grilled, fried, pungent. I encounter the dates – a dozen sellers offering them in different states of congealment, from the deep-brown gooey Khejur oozing syrup to bone-dry Khormas and orange-yellow unripe dates. As I pass them, I feel something on the backside of my arm and discover a large bee making himself comfortable. The dates have attracted hundreds of bees who feast on the sticky syrup. This does not deter the shoppers, though, and one laughs when I manically shake my arm to dislodge the bee. I ask a seller where the bees come from. “They come from all over, the dates are like a gift of Allah to them,” he says.

Puzzling over where bees get their pollen in urban, almost treeless old Dhaka, I reach the police point of Chawk proper. The Iftar market stretches left from here, taking up the street’s breadth. The rows of tables on either side of the street holding the food run for three blocks.

The fresh fruits and vegetables come first as several types of melons, papayas, cucumbers, oranges, apples, and tomatoes all sell briskly. Next up are the meat items: there are whole roast chicken and quails, roast legs of lamb, giant cauldrons of Haleem, a beef stew made with seven types of lentils, and various kababs. Among the specialties of old Dhaka is the Shutli Kabab (Shutli means “in a thread.”) It is a large cylindrical patty of meat tied together by a thread running through its middle. It is cooked over coal, then sold in slices.

I overhear one Shutli vendor grumbling after an unfruitful haggling session with a customer. “Where do these cheap people come from? He wants to eat old Dhaka Shutli Kabab but pay only Tk 300 for a kg. Well, if he wants to eat my Shutli Kabab, it is going to cost him Tk 500. That’s because it is the best,” he snorts.

At 4pm Iftar is still two hours away but the crowd is thick. When not stopping to buy, people walk on their left, but there is no way to avoid the pushing and shoving, and every time I stop to take a picture I am acutely aware that a dozen people walking in file behind me have also stopped mid-stride. Crowd, heat, flavors, and humidity push me into sensory overload. Sweat drenches my shirt and my head feels light. Once in a while a harried looking woman comes by braving the crowds of mostly men. I spy a little girl, perhaps 7 or 8, who has come here wearing a Burkha. She waits patiently, eyeing the goodies, as her father buys some Peyajus.

A little further up are three or four tables selling a concoction called “Boro Baper Polai Khai.” (Roughly translated, “Older father’s son eats” and I suspect the strange name contributes to its popularity.) This is a mixture of several items including puffed rice (muri), chick peas (chhola), pieces of boneless chicken roast, boiled eggs, spices (particularly cumin), curried liver, chunks of Shutli kabab. The master mixer stands at the middle of the table as his assistants debone whole roast chickens and cut the other meats into bite size pieces. When everything is ready, the master makes the final mix into yet another batch that will satisfy the customers waiting eagerly in line. At least three different vendors offer this dish, each claiming to be the original inventor.

Large deep-fryers have been set up sporadically on the road and are frying Jilapis, Peyajus, Pakoras, while Sheek and Boti Kababs grill away at open barbecues, cooks patiently fanning the coals with a hand-fan. A Chawk specialty is the giant Jilapi weighing one whole kilogram. As I watch a cook squeeze the Jilapi dough into a fryer, I hear voices from below: under a nearby table three men with rolling pins are rolling out tiny round breads to be fried and eaten with Ghughni, a salad of chick peas. As I watch, one of them pops a chunk of fried bread into his mouth. I blink in disbelief. Is he secretly munching away during his fast? But he repeats, quite openly, and with it goes another of my stereotypes. In conservative old Dhaka, I thought, openly eating during Ramzan would be a big no-no.

I run into a man sitting next to an empty basket, watching the hustle and bustle. "Did you sell everything?" I ask. "Yes, sold all my Bangi's," he said, beaming contentedly, "started at noon today." A Bangi is a type of melon with a coarse sandy texture.

After some more wandering among the market and its devotees I decide I have had enough. The Chawk market is a memorable if intense experience, but like enjoying other good things in life, I decide moderation is key and leave with the million flavors tickling my nostrils.

[Note: The photos below -and the story - are from multiple visits to the Market.}

Old Dhaka Style Jilapi

Endless Row of Tables

Checking Out Them Papayas

Frying Some Goodies

Shutli Kabab Salesman (not the unhappy one)

Rolling the Small Breads

Mixing up Boro Baper Polai Khai

A Small Argument

A Shared Joke

Camaraderie

Little Burkha Girl

View From Overhead

Delivering the Goods While Helper Boy Looks On

Happy Seller Who Sold All His Melons

Distinctive Istanbul

2010-08-14T01:17:00.001-07:00

Photos of Istanbul from a recent trip.

Where else would a 400-year mosque be considered "new?"

The same mosque from a distance. All the mosques follow basically the same beautiful pattern (invented by architect Mimar Sinan who got his first big break when he built a bridge in record time so the impatient Sultan could go conquer a neighboring nation quickly). Number of minars and domes vary from mosque to mosque.

Inside the Aya Sofia, which started as a Church (2000 years ago), becoming a Mosque after the Ottomans conquered Constantinople, and then became a Museum during Ataturk. I found the face (lower left) most curious - was it there during the time it was a Mosque? Only this face remains, but the other three in each corner of the dome have been erased. Hmmm.

Istanbul Cemeteries have lots of roses.

Istanbul skyline from Galata Bridge (on the Bosphorus.)

Inside an off-campus building of Istanbul University in Beyoglu.

Clothing is big business in Istanbul. They use lots of mannequins, sultry...

...mysterious...

...and you could easily lose your head over them!

Oh, here is how the Turks do World Cup flags...

... and other things.

Inside the Topkapi Palace, this was essentially the Sultan's bedroom...

...and the toilet.

Many cafes in Istanbul offer board games to entice customers.

I was expecting Turkish coffee, but found the Turks like to drink tea, like our "Rong Cha".

What can I say, one of the great cities of the world. Hope I can go again someday.

Silence of the Fans

2010-07-11T06:53:00.000-07:00

The World Cup has been in full swing for a few days. Looking for related street art I find myself in Sutrapur in old Dhaka. I have entered a serious football fan zone with flags waving overhead and walls covered with street art. I take my time photographing the flags fluttering in the wind, trying to capture them at the right position. A few people stand around watching me. One of them comes up and says, “The best World Cup art is still ahead.” How far? I ask. Right there, just follow me, he beckons. As I follow him, he says, “I am a lowly government servant, but I love football. So I had to have my say.” He introduces himself as Satu.

We walk a few blocks, then into a narrow lane across from Dalpottir More. I have been on this lane before – it splits like the bars of a Y. The light here is difficult so I never got a good picture here. We take the right bar of the Y. Soon Satu is pointing out his three-story house, the last one in the alley.

Satu proudly shows off the Argentine décor on the wall of his house. He says he paid the local street painter Tk. 1700 to paint it. But then I look up and see a Brazil flag on his rooftop. What gives? Is the devoted Mr. Satu really two-faced about his fanhood?

“Oh, that’s nothing. It’s just that one of my renters likes Brazil. So I allowed him a small flag.”

Mr. Satu then offers me a cold drink. However I have many roads to cover, so I thank him for his offer and move on.

At an intersection deep inside Narinda, I find a gorgeous Argentina painting in front of a car-part machine shop. I look at it for a while from across the street and decide to photograph it. I bend down to make sure the photo is not crooked and snap the shutter during a gap between rickshaws and pedestrians.

I am walking away when a voice cuts across sharply from within the shop. It's one of the workers and he steps out to point. “Aren’t you going to take a picture of the other one there?"

Ooops. That was a nice Brazil painting diagonally across the street. I had missed it completely. And this man was a diehard Brazil fan. Of course I had to photograph it. What was I thinking? “Thank you, Bhaiya, for pointing it out. I suppose you are a Brazil fan?” The guy nods. “Then how come there is this big Argentina painting in front of your shop?” “That’s the owner’s,” he replies sullenly, and pops back into the shop.

A few days later I am in the same neighborhood. Only a few days, but it seems like the world has turned upside down for football fans. That’s because Brazil and Argentina have both lost ignominiously.

I search for the Brazil and Argentina fans. “Where have they gone? Are they still watching the games?” I ask a man at a tea stall adda. “They have all gone home,” he says, snickering in a most disrespectful way. At this another man pipes in indignantly: “No, no, it is like this. The Brazil fans became German fans because Germany defeated Argentina, and the Argentina fans became Holland fans because Holland defeated Brazil. And some from each side became Spain fans because Spain defeated neither.” Ummm, I see. But what about the final? Are you supporting Spain or Holland. They look at each other, a little lost, like ships on a stormy night trying to find anchor. I suppose the Final will be an anticlimax for Old Dhaka football fans.

Argentina flag in Narinda...

...and a few days later.

Mr Satu in front of his painting.

Nimtoli

2010-06-14T07:35:00.000-07:00

To get to Nimtoli you start out at the Chankharpul intersection and head towards the Central Jail on Nazimuddin road. About fifty feet down, there is a road on the left, lined with paper recycling stores. Follow this road for a quarter mile, and you will see a smaller alley to the right. You cannot miss it because of all the black banners hanging from everywhere. This is Nimtoli.

The fire in Nimtoli burned on the night of June 1, two weeks ago, at the T intersection at the end of this alley. It took 142 lives. Many others are still in the hospital.

In the past, I have visited this area, so full of life with a warm neighborhood atmosphere, and taken pictures. Look here, here and here.

However, today it was quiet. People tried to go about their business - kids walked to school, store owners opened up shop, small factories hummed - but the laughter and carefree life that once characterized this area was missing.

I tried to piece together what had happened.

On the third floor of a multi-story apartment building, a dinner party was celebrating the engagement of Runa to Jamil, a ceremony called "Panchini" in Bangla. For the Panchini feast, a chef was cooking old Dhaka style food in large cauldrons outside the entrance of the building. This was around 9pm on June 1st.

Just inside the building (on the ground floor, which is a large garage) was a cache of highly flammable chemicals, used by a nearby factory. Between the cooking and the chemicals was the wall of the building.

As the food cooked - one cauldron on a large gas stove, the other on a large wood-fired stove, both open-air - the walls of the garage heated. Eventually the chemicals caught fire. As fire flared out, two motorcycles parked in front of the building quickly caught fire, as did the large electric transformers overhead.

The fire spread very quickly because the chemicals exploded and flew all over. The house across the street on the south was engulfed. The streets were on fire, preventing people from escaping.

As I looked inside a burned barber shop, I was introduced to Mr. Syed Maqbul Ali, whose wife Fauzia Begum perished in the fire. His flat on top of the barber's is across the street of the six-story apartment on the west.

Mr. Ali showed me inside his flat. He was watching TV when he heard the transformers outside the multi-story building explode. First he ran into his son's room which faced this building. By this time, flying chunks of chemicals, on fire, had entered this room through the window and the room was on fire. He shut the room door and was able to run down the stairs and escape in the nick of time.

His wife, who had gone to attend the party, was not so lucky. She asphyxiated with many others. His two children - a son and a daughter - survived because they were not in the neighborhood.

As I talked to people there, I heard similar stories over and over. A woman, whose brother owned a grocery store, told me that he was found dead - from asphyxiation - over the narrow drain between his store and the street. The owners of a Bakorkhani store had shuttered themselves in when the fire started thinking they would be safe. Instead they perished. Six people from a tin shed house died on a narrow path from their door to the main road, because the road was on fire and there was no escape route. However, the tin shed next to them had an escape route into another alley and those inhabitants all survived. And so on. It is absolutely, totally, heartbreaking.

A lot of things are being written about this fire. The blame game goes on - the narrow streets, perhaps blocking the fire trucks, the person who had stored the chemicals, all the small factories in the area - all the experts are going at it full swing.

Clearly there are no easy answers. You cannot simply shut down all factories in old Dhaka. You cannot make narrow streets wider.

Yet it seems to me that some simple knowledge of the flammability of the material, and transmitting this knowledge to the chefs, could have prevented this disaster. Often these chemicals are imported from China with signs written in Chinglish. If there were large warning signs on the containers in Bangla, could this disaster have been prevented?

And surely new buildings need better to live up to better safety standards.

An ounce of prevention - educating people about disaster risks, and being alert about dangerous situations - could probably go a long way towards preventing the next disaster.

In the meantime the people of Nimtoli try to piece their lives back together. Mr Moqbul's daughter is engaged. But now is not the time to think about his daughter's marriage, he says. He mentioned something about how his wife ran the household, and then seemed at a loss, perhaps trying to sort out how he would cope. And he spoke proudly of his son who has just passed his SSC and started Intermediate classes.

[Update 15 June 2010: About the wedding: days after the fire, the Prime Minister of Bangladesh announced that since Runa's mother had died in the fire and she was left without any guardian, the PM was going to essentially act like guardian and host the wedding at her official residence. As a result, Runa and her beau, her sister Ratna and her fiance, and one other affected couple were married in the Prime Minister's residence at the same time.]

The multi-story building where it all started on the third floor.

View from the top looking east. Multi-story is at the edge of the bottom-left of this photo. No one survived in the house across the street (on right of photo, with the corrugated tin sheets on top.)

Entrance to the multi-story where the cooking was taking place. The sign forbids entrance without permission from authorities.

Burned motorcycles...

...and a rickshaw van's saddle.

The Bakorkhani shop. They shuttered themselves in thinking they could escape, but perished instead.

The tin sheds. Inhabitants of the one on the left (now collapsed) escaped. Ones from the right (with window) were stuck in the narrow path leading out of their house into the road. The brick wall around the left house was of course standing.

The grocery store. Woman said she is the sister of the owner, who was found dead at the drain in front of the store.

Remains of curry and dal at the restaurant next door.

Remains of ceiling fan in the restaurant.

Barber shop downstairs from Syed Moqbul Ali's flat.

Onlookers looking into the barber shop.

Moqbul's son's room.

Mr. Syed Moqbul Ali. The third floor of the six-story is across the street and to his left on the photo. His wife perished at the corner next to that window.

The Stories of "Killing the Water"

2010-05-23T00:34:00.000-07:00

Killing the Water is a collection of twelve short stories by Mahmud Rahman published by Penguin Books. The author is a native of Bangladesh who has lived in the United States since the early 1970s. He has the rare quality of being versatile in both English and Bangla literature, having translated the stories of the late Mahmudul Huq into English and written a pioneering analysis of the transplant fiction of Kazi Anwar Hossein (of Masud Rana fame.)

The stories cover a lot of ground. They deal with themes ranging from the 1971 War of Liberation to racial violence experienced by a fresh immigrant in the United States. In between, we sample generous helpings of relationships and symbolism, unexpected multi-racial bondings, intimate details of Bangladeshi culture and affectionate remembrances of the way things were in that land in mid-20th century. And as you might expect, lots of water - ponds, rivers, rain, storms and cyclones.

Two things stand out about the collection. First is the depiction of details of rural Bangladesh in the mid-20th century. An example is the Tabij that Altaf, the protagonist of City Shoes in the Village, receives from his mother, and how he reacts to it. Some descriptions are almost photographic: eg, the way Moni scoops up the coconut flesh after drinking his Daab (Before the Monsoons Come), and the subtly class-conscious interaction between Reza the insurgent and the mango-seller (The Interrogation.)

The second is treatment of the migrant's experience of not quite belonging. In your heart of hearts, you don't really belong there because you are the perpetual newcomer. And since you have left home, you don't quite belong here, either. So you take refuge with other migrants of similar experiences (Yuralda, Neela) or people at the fringe (Carlotta.) This neurosis travels backward in time to afflict Moni (who should be a freedom fighter but cannot), and Altaf (who by throwing away the Tabij makes a valiant attempt to cut all ties to his own roots.)

Going back and forth through time is a common occurrence in these stories, as memories of the motherland dominate the psyche of many characters.

The writing style is varied and rich. There is epistolary narration, surreal rationalization of evil, bluesy loneliness and longing, and good old fast-moving storytelling.

The stories have momentum and keep the reader going. They are worth reading for their humane and insightful portrayal of people caught between worlds. The book was recently long-listed for the Frank O'Connor Prize. So go get yourself a copy and give it a whirl!

Mother's Day Tribute

2010-05-07T20:22:00.000-07:00

Today is Mother's Day: a day to celebrate and honor all mothers, often the unsung heroes of the day.

Here are some photos of mothers in Bangladesh.

I remember my mother on this day. She left us way too soon.

Conversation before school.

Spiffying up the school uniform.

At the bus stand before Eid.

A helping hand or two.

At the Boi Mela (book fair.)

An unexpected storm.

The favorite bottle.

Quick snack before hitting the Boi Mela (book fair).

Helping down the stairs in Lalbagh.

Serving up the drinking water in small gulps.

Why doesn't this train move?

We are off!

Bicycling in Cambodia

2010-05-06T23:10:00.000-07:00

In March I went on a trip I had wanted to do for a long time - a 7-day, 360km, bicycle ride from Bangkok to Angkor Wat in Cambodia. Here are my impressions of Cambodia published in the Daily Star.

Kella's Kids

2010-03-22T17:52:00.000-07:00

Today The Daily Star is running my photo essay on kids at Lalbagh Kella.

At the Book Fair (Ekushey Boi Mela)

2010-02-22T21:21:00.001-08:00

Dhaka's largest book fair - Boi Mela in Bengali - happens every February to coincide with February 21st, the Language Day.

Some came alone to the Boi Mela...

...but many waited in line with friends...

...and of course someone had to bring the books :-(

There were many kinds of bookstalls, from the picturesque...

...to the decisively child-friendly...

... the downright mysterious...

... and the profitable.

Most kids had a blast. While some showed off new treasures...

... others seemed to enter magical storylands...

....as Mommy and son discussed a possible acquisition.

Some kids probably found the whole thing overwhelming...

...and wished they were on top of the world...

...or playing peekaboo with the photographer!

And how about the adults? Well, books were not on the mind of some adults...

...while others seemed just a little lost.

Elsewhere, friends shared a joke...

... and discussed a hot topic, or maybe a pretty girl?

But still... Boi Mela is about the books, after all...

...and while some people's choices raised questions...

...most went home happy with their booty...

...except of course those who just could not wait!

[Updated on Feb 25 with two new photos...]

Signs of Love

2010-02-14T00:13:00.000-08:00

The Daily Star ran my Valentine's Day photo spread today.

A Mosque Bonanza

2010-01-09T02:45:00.001-08:00

Those who like photographs and architecture will find the "Mosque Today" exhibition at the Goethe Institute, Dhaka, a rewarding experience. There are three groups of photos by photographers Hasan Saifuddin Chandan and Babu Ahmed of Bangladesh and Wilfried Dechau of Germany. They reveal mosques in three different spheres. Chandan meditates on the modern mosques of Dhaka through photos that are imbued with his lyrical style. Ahmed's photos are of older historical mosques of Bangladesh. Dechau's mosques are ones from Germany, built by the Turkish community there. There is also a digital presentation every day from 5-6pm on Architecture and Mosques in Bangladesh by Saif Ul Haq, a local architect.

The exhibition runs Jan 4-18, 2010 from 10am to 7pm at the Goethe Institute in Dhanmondi (behind the semi-circular playing field off of Mirpur Road - where the old USIS used to be.) Definitely worth a trip. And while you are there check out the cafe on the rooftop serving great shingaras.

Here are three images from Chandan's show (the photos are copyrighted by the photographer and may not be reproduced without his permission):

Baitul Mokarram Mosque

Baridhara Mosque

Monayem Mosque in Banani

"Elephant on the Move"

2010-01-05T01:05:00.000-08:00

Sitting inside Bangladesh, it is easy to lose sight of how fast things change here. However, for a traveller with a discerning eye, the changes taking place in Bangladesh can look like fundamental (positive) shifts. One such person is Zain Mahmood, a non-resident-Bangladeshi and CEO of a US-based multinational. Here is his take after a recent trip to Bd.

Hmmm. Now why can't the NYT publish something like this on Bd (rather than the usual?)

Victory Day 2009 Photos

2009-12-17T04:35:00.001-08:00

Photos from on or near Suhrawardy Udyan on Bijoy Dibosh (Victory Day) 2009:

Victory Day Fun:

Victory Day Games:

Victory Day Tea:

Victory Day Meetup:

Victory Day Couple:

Victory Day Cutie:

Victory Day Umbrella Man:

Victory Day Bangles:

Victory Day Outfit:

Victory Day Nap:

Dinajpur Trip

2009-12-04T23:42:00.000-08:00

The day after Eid I went to Dinajpur and neighboring areas with friends. The driving time in Eid's rarified traffic was 7.5 hours from Dhaka.

Along the way we ran into some people rushing home - I guess they had missed Eid.

Dinajpur is a pretty town, specially in the morning...

People were having breakfast next to the "Boro Maath" (Big Field)...

...and the barbershop had opened early for business.

The town had a string of Rajas in its history and has grace. It is also famous for fragrant Chinigura rice. Even the Pouroshobha building (City Council) is over 100 years old and elegant.

But the best part of the town is the Rajbari (King's palace) dating from 1890s. It is in two parts: the temple and the actual palace.

The temple is in good shape...

...and very pretty.

The palace, on the other hand, has seen better days :-(

In the afternoon we drove to Kantajir Mondir, built between 1722-1752 and famous for terra-cotta architecture. It was absolutely gorgeous...

... with stunning arches...

...and details like this - telling stories - carved over the entire exterior!

As an added bonus, we participated in the Kantajir Mela where people from all over Bangladesh show up. This woman was local, though.

Near the Mandir was an old Masjid, called Noyabad Masjid, built around the same time. While it was not as ornate, it was dignified and reminded me of Khan Mohammed Masjid in Dhaka.

We decided to spend the night in Syedpur. At night it seemed dusty and ugly, but morning revealed a town with character and atmosphere...

...colorful shopfronts...

...and an ancient "Joinak" tree.

Syedpur is the only Urdu-speaking town in Bangladesh with a large concentration of Biharis many of whom work in the railway workshop. Maybe it was my imagination, but it seemed to have an air of a vanquished city about it, even though the war has been over for 38 years. But in 1971 it was the scene of much butchery. As I walked past a row of empty butcher shops, the irony was grim.

But today people are friendly, like this morning girl...

... and the streetside barber who spoke reasonable English.

On our way back, we stopped at Mahasthan Gar near Bogra. It is an ancient city (over 2000 years old) still being excavated. However, we did not have enough time to explore this amazing place. If you visit, plan on spending most of the day exploring.

Practical Details: Lunch at the Aristocrat (20 minutes west of Jamuna Bridge) was superb, including Hilsa steak, prawns and several bhortas. We stayed at Parjatan Motel in Dinajpur (Tk 1600/night/double) and Hotel Arafat in Syedpur (Tk. 650/night/double). Snacks at the New Hotel in Dinajpur near the station included a heavenly Mughlai Paratha but watery tea (the kitchen in the back is open for all to see.) Bogra has some nice hotels including Naz Garden and Siesta. We ate chicken sandwiches at the Naz and were pleasantly surprised by the well-kept grounds and the mini-lake with boats. Many thanks to my travelling companions Mickey, Ranjit and particularly Milu for driving us in his comfortable SUV.

Eid Mubarak!

2009-11-27T18:09:00.001-08:00

Girl at Tangail Bus Stand waiting to go home for Eid on Nov. 26, 2009.

RIP Noazesh Ahmed

2009-11-24T19:05:00.000-08:00

Just got word that Dr. Noazesh Ahmed passed away last night. I will always remember him for his book from 1985 Portrait of Bangladesh. He understood color photography really well and to this day I find myself returning to that book for learning and inspiration. Thank you Dr. Ahmed. May Allah grant you peace.

Traffic Jam Bestsellers

2009-10-27T07:28:00.000-07:00

If you ride in a car in any of Dhaka's major roads, they are bound to run into your window glass: the booksellers selling photocopied versions of English books at traffic signals. If you look like someone who reads English, and your car is stopped at the light (or a traffic jam) they will wander over and show you their stuff.

For the past few weeks the "top three" that they always show off first are: Dan Brown's The Lost Symbol, Khushwant Singh's Jinnah and Amartya Sen's The Idea of Justice. While they fan these three from their right hand, their left supports a stack of another dozen including the two Obama books and an assortment of self-help, business and fiction titles.

In the past I have seen other Dan Brown books, Adiga's White Tiger, and a motley assortment of past and present bestsellers including Jeffrey Archer, Sydney Sheldon. Oh, and a version of Lonely Planet's Bangladesh Guidebook including color copies of the color photos. I wonder why Mikey Leung's Bradt Bangladesh Guidebook has not received the honor yet.

How much does one pay? About Tk 200, less than USD 3.

But here is the thing I puzzle about most: how are the books picked? I mean, who picked Sen's philosophical and dense treatise? I only read a review and it made my head hurt. Now imagine you are stuck in the heat in Dhaka's traffic jam, temples throbbing, unenviably late for that important customer meeting at Motijheel. Are you sure reading this book is going be the right thing for you to do at this moment?

And Singh's Jinnah??? Do many people here really care? I think they'd prefer to read Tahmima Anam's A Golden Age instead, don't you?

Do people buy these books because there is nothing else affordable? Or do they really read these books? I don't know. (Well, I read The Lost Symbol though I wish I had not, but that's another story.)

So, to the powers-that-be of the sidewalk bookseller world, here is my wishlist of real and imagined books that could actually be helpful in a traffic jam:

a) Randy Pausch's Last Lecture for inspiring reading
b) Anything by my favorite "trashy" authors: Connelly and Crichton
c) Maybe a couple of "serious" novels: Cairo Trilogy or some Booker winner
d) One Hundred Years of Solitude by Garcia Marquez
e) One Hundred Crossword Puzzles to Work on While in a Traffic Jam by Anon.
f) One Hundred Magic Tricks in Sixty Easy Steps While in Your Car by Jadukor
g) Teach Yourself Sign Language on the Mohakhali to Dhanmondi Stretch
h) IPCC Reports on climate change so Bangladeshis can really figure out if/when they will sink (on second thoughts, maybe not a good idea)
i) The Difficult Art of Owning Up, Or, How to Fix Our Khaislot by Shotyobadi
j) The Art of Moving a Government File: The Who/When/Where/HowMuch of Palm-Greasing

In case you are wondering why a) is on the top of the list: I like this book a lot, but I found (when I was in the US this summer) that it was unreasonably priced, which meant that after Dr. Pausch's untimely death, someone was trying to cash in quickly.

Never Twice Same Light

2009-10-12T19:35:00.001-07:00

Back in my days doing Imaging and Video engineering at Sun, we had a joke about the three global television systems: NTSC, SECAM and PAL. NTSC, we claimed, stood for Never Twice Same Color. SECAM, a French system, was Something Essentially Contradictory to American Methods, and PAL coming from the UK was Peace At Last.

Well, every time I try to do landscape photography I run into nature's equivalent of NTSC, which is NTSL (Never Twice Same Light.) Any photography with naturally available light (ie, not using flash or artificial light) is subject to NTSL, but since landscapes depend so utterly on the lighting, it becomes crucial to pay attention to the light.

One can wax philosophical about this whole notion. I mean, isn't life a long series of never-twice experiences? The great Bengali poet Tagore got it - like many other mysteries of life - and expressed the idea beautifully:

Aar ki kokhono kobey
Emoni shondha hobey?
Jonomer moto, hai, hoye gelo hara

Will there ever be another
Twilight like this one?
Gone for good... (Bengalis forgive me for butchered translation)

Back to photography... I was wandering looking for a good picture when the ground turned velvety due to some funny clouds. I knew it would not last, and took a picture right away.

About a minute later I had set up my tripod and composed a better organized scene. But by then the light was... never twice!

PS, the NTSC/PAL/SECAM jokes originally appeared in Anil Jain's Fundamentals of Digital Image Processing.

Strange Eid

2009-09-21T09:03:00.000-07:00

Eid is supposed to be a special day. But today was strange.

Got up at 4:30, could not go back to sleep. After Eid prayers, got rained on while walking home. In the afternoon, I was working with my son on his studies (big exam coming up so no break for Eid). I was sitting on his bed, and suddenly the post stuck at a corner for the mosquito net lurched and fell on my hand. I know this, I thought, I used to live in the Bay Area! So... what's shaking, Bangladesh :-)

There are scary statistics about how many people would die from a severe earthquake in Dhaka. But, truth be told, I worry more about adulterated food than any other issue facing Bd. We need to institute capital punishment for that. I mean, isn't it slow-motion murder after all? As a friend said, "Dui ektarey loktaia diley shob thik hoia jaibo" (After one or two adulterers are hanged, it will be alright.)

Oh well, Eid is almost over. A precious, special day turned strange. Eid mubarak everyone!

Eid Mubarak!

2009-09-20T16:14:00.000-07:00

Enjoy the food :-)

Acacias in Bloom

2009-09-16T00:22:00.000-07:00

Acacia flowers are in full-bloom. Here are some acacia trees in the Sylhet-Fenchuganj road.

Bringing Home the Iftar

2009-09-04T22:09:00.000-07:00

Here we are well into another Ramadan, the Muslim fasting month. At day's close, people go to the local markets to buy food with which to break their fast. They select their Iftar and pay the vendors who pack it up. Then they bring the Iftar home.

Some vendors have the packets ready, looking for customers...

...while other vendors get mobbed.

"What!? You want just one tiny fried thingy in this here packet?"

Nonetheless, the packets get filled...

... money changes hands...

... and soon we are good to go.

But wait... not everyone wants that fried stuff. Some like bananas...

... others are happy with their melon...

... yet others admire their Iftar pineapple...

...and the occasional jambura is lugged along.

Cold water is a must, carried sometimes from a place with a fridge...

...while others wish the pesky phone would stop ringing so they can get home!

As the hour draws closer, people hurry along one way...

...or another.

Some pack a variety of Iftar goodies...

but others, such as these Tokais (scavenger kids) have to scavenge for leftovers...

...luckily most vendors are generous to Tokais.

However, for the most part, kids end up having their Iftar...

...and eating it too!

A Nice Set of Photos

2009-09-03T08:26:00.000-07:00

Couple of friends sent me this link to an amazing series of Ramadan photos around the world.

From Bd it takes a while to load, but the pictures are well worth the wait.

Bd's own Pavel Rahman is represented with a photo of the Chawk Iftar Market.

Thanks Pial and Alvis for sending me the pointer!

Rediscovering Old Dhaka

2009-08-30T17:38:00.000-07:00

Last month Wazi Choudhury, a friend and relative, was visiting from California. One day I took him on a tour of old Dhaka. Here is his album of pictures. He has done a fine job with the photos. An added bonus is his in-depth research on the buildings done with an architect's eye which adds a new dimension. A job well done!

Check if Farming is For You

2009-08-04T05:22:00.001-07:00

Many people dream of a pastoral life. But what is it like in reality?

1. You see a cow and you think "Hmmm, lots of manure from that one, I bet..."
2. Telling your neighbor "My jackfruits are bigger than yours" makes your day.
3. That slimy green water in a village pond looks good because fish love the slimy green.
4. You lose count of the types of bugs that have bitten you.
5. You almost slap your best friend when he says Boro is a type of rice.
6. You want to take your family shopping to Aarong because there is a nursery across the street.
7. You think growing Dahlias is for sissies.
8. Your favorite question for a job candidate is to ask them the commands to make a cow turn left and turn right when plowing a field.
9. Whenever you see a large unusual tree in a foreign country, you immediately start searching for its seed so you can have one too.
10. You are the only person left in Dhaka who believes that Baldha Garden is for enjoying nature, not for courtship.

Father's Day Feature

2009-07-18T05:50:00.000-07:00

Last month The Daily Star ran some of my photos as a Father's Day Feature. Here is the link.

Emirates and Other Airfares

2009-07-07T05:47:00.000-07:00

Couple of days ago I checked the Emirates pricing (on their website) for a DAC->LHR RT ticket in September. Ouch at USD1300+. But here is the interesting part. If you travel on the exact same days Kolkata->LHR, the price is an amazing Rs. 35000+. Almost half!

On the plus side, looks like the Dhaka->SE Asia route airfares are showing signs of thawing. Singapore airlines had a large ad in the Daily Star today advertising RT on DAC->SIN for all-inclusive USD 368 (down from 500+ they were charging before.) Also, Air Asia is offering low fares to KL, and I believe Malaysia Airlines has been forced to lower their DAC->KL fares because of this.

Also, there is a fare war afoot in the Dhaka->Kolkata route, with fares as low as Tk 5700 (USD80) round-trip on Jet and Kingfisher. I think one of the Bd airlines also got in on this fare war. But you have to book far ahead.

I hear that with Kolkata fares this low, you can do a RT to Bangkok for Tk 18000 or thereabouts if you route through Kolkata. This is almost half of what Thai charges for their DAC->BKK direct fare.

But maybe there is a proverbial sucker born here every minute, and the Emirates people have figured out who it is?

Unusual Fruits and Drinks

2009-06-19T20:59:00.000-07:00

Recently I came across unusual fruits and drinks in Bangladesh.

Here is a Cham Kathal, looking exactly like a jackfruit, but only about six inches long.

Inside, a Cham Kathal has pods similar to a Jackfruit. However, they have a slightly sour taste. I understand the seeds inside the pods are also eaten, fried.

This fruit is called Deua. Inside it vaguely resembles Ata (custard apple), but again, quite sour.

Here are some other fruits, clockwise from bottom: Kath Lichu, Deshi Gab, Bel and Nuinya Fol.

Of these, the most intriguing is Kath Lichu. I just tried it yesterday. It tastes identical to Longan grown in Thailand and Malaysia, but it is much smaller (and the seed is bigger.)

I call these Galapagos potatoes, because of their resemblance to Galapagos turtles :-) Seriously, I have been unable to find out much about these potato-like roots. Someone told me about "Maitya Aloo" which may be this.

On the medicinal front, dried roots, barks and fruits abound. This man sells Arjun tree bark (useful for heart disease), as well as Trifola (combination of dried Amloki, Hortoki and Bohera - three fruits that, coincidentally, deer love to eat.)

Among drinks, Aloe Vera juice is very popular. Aloe plants are a cash crop in many places in Bangladesh.

Bangladeshis like their Shorbot - sweetened and flavored cold drinks. For example, one made from the fruit Bel is supposedly good for cooling during the heat (and for digestion.)

Then there is one made from Tok Doi (sour yogurt):

... and from Gur (molasses) with a sprinkle of Ishobguler Bhushi (flax seed?)

Here is some pre-made honey syrup for making more Shorbot!

I also love the Cashew apple but I don't have a good photo. I have not seen it sold in stores. You have to pluck it from the tree. It is filled with sweet juice inside, which bursts with flavor inside your mouth when you bite it. This year I tried refrigerating it - colder, it tastes much better. I understand people in CHittagong Hill Tracts make Toddy from it :-)

Conspicuously absent from the street is Beter Guta (the fruit of the cane tree) from my childhood. I understand cane is almost wiped out from Bangladesh :-(

A word to the wise: if you are bacterially challenged (ie, the bacteria in your stomach are used to western food, ie, you have lived in western countries for a while) then I urge caution when partaking.

Finally, I am gateful to Rais for indentifying Aloe, Stefan for teaching me about Cashew Apples and Gofur for showing me the Cham Kathal.

Bon appetit!

Planting Trees

2009-06-13T06:03:00.001-07:00

This is tree-planting season in Bangladesh. There is also a Tree Planting Drive going on nationally with support from the highest levels.

Speaking of trees, the papers are usually full of articles bemoaning the deforestation of Bangladesh. I wonder, do these authors ever visit any village? If they do, they will find that every available spot in the villages are taken up by rows and rows of wood trees - such as mahogany, acacia, menjam, and so on - because the farmers have figured out it is profitable. Talk to any villager, and they will expound on how important and valuable it is to have lots of trees. So, what gives? Do they see a few trees downed in Dhaka and get all worked up, while missing a few million trees planted all over the country?

Ok, back to tree-planting. I prepared my patch of land for planting. This involved cutting drains through the middle to make sure water drained properly, as well as eliminating weeds. Then, I had to decide what trees to plant. The choices are: a) wood trees; b) fruit trees and c) ornamental trees. I opted for a mix of the three, since I like to see a variety rather than a repetitive pattern. Then, I had to decide how many to plant. That one is easy, because the standard formula is one tree every six feet, for most species.

Plan ready, I went off looking for seedlings to plant.

The first nursery I went to was a rural one. Here, I found lots of hardwood: acacia (akashmoni), menjam, mahogany, eucalyptus, sal (gojaria), neem, agar, arjun and others. I wrote down the prices (Tk 3-4 per seedling) and went away with a list of the available items to sort into a large order. But then my tree-experts warned me. The seedlings were too small. So? So the trees will take a lot more effort to nurture. Cows will eat them. Grass and weeds in the meadow will overtake them and they will get lost. It seemed the only reasonable ones were the menjam seedlings.

Then I sent people to other nurseries nearby. But guess what, all the larger seedlings were gone. That's because people had already bought them in anticipation of the rainy season. The ones left were either too small or crooked or bent. My experts advised me against the crooked and bent ones because they will grow to be crooked and bent trees. Oh well.

Back in Dhaka, I went looking for more seedlings. But Dhaka is urban. There is hardly any land left for tree-planting. People plant things in containers on their rooftops. And so the Dhaka nurseries cater to that clientele. There are plenty of pretty flower and smaller plants (agave, cactuses, other types of pretty-leaved plants.)

Then there are the fruit trees in Dhaka nurseries. Most popular are Apel-Kul and Bau-Kul, as well as varieties of mangoes and guavas. I saw a mango tree in a container, about six feet tall, from which three or four small mangoes dangled. Price? Tk 2000! Some years ago "Kaji Peara" - a dwarf guava plant that yielded large but tasteless guavas - was very popular. But I did not see many Kaji Pearas. Perhaps they had all been sold?

In the end I opted for a mix of Menjam (a tree that grows reasonably fast and produces good wood), Agar (value as perfume producer), Akashmoni, various Kuls, Neem, and a few Amra trees. We'll see in a few years how well they work out!

Moving Back: Child's Point of View

2009-05-28T00:39:00.001-07:00

NRB parents who are thinking of moving back: the essay at the bottom of this page might be of interest.

Tools of the Sidewalk Traders

2009-05-15T23:45:00.000-07:00

According to the dictionary, a tool is a device used to perform or facilitate manual or mechanical work. It is something necessary to the carrying out of one's occupation or profession.

Primeval tools such as fire, the spear and the wheel , enabled homo sapiens to raise himself to be ruler of his surroundings. Throughout history, tools often played a pivotal role in the making and breaking of civilizations.

As a software engineer, I too had to learn and respect the use of tools in my profession. Some tools were absolutely necessary to do my job; others saved time and improved product quality.

For most people the tools of software engineering remain invisible. However, when I returned to Bangladesh after many years abroad, I discovered a very visible set of tools on the sidewalks of Dhaka. Numerous street vendors employ this useful set of tools to earn a livelihood. If they are selling a product, the tools are used to prepare or enhance the product for selling. If they are selling a service, the tools are used to provide that service.

These tools range from mundane (tea-making) to unexpected (fortune-telling parrot); from simple (scale) to complex (making talismanic rings); from precise (shoeshining) to disorganized (stencils for making posters).

Our sidewalk tools are thus a testament to the creativity and resilience of our small business entrepreneurs.

A typewriter is handy for typing up legal documents.

Scales used to sell carrots.

Metals used to make nobogroho talismans from eight metals.

A cart used by vendors to carry and showcase products.

Tools needed to shine a pair of shoes.

Crushers are used for extracting sugarcane juice.

A rickshaw mechanic needs a whole hierarchy of tools.

A parrot tells the fortune by pulling an envelope with a message inside.

Stencils used to make fliers and posters.

A paanwallah has tools to mix paan spices and light the cigarettes.

A tailor's tools.

A teamaker's tools for serving up a refreshing cuppa.

(This series of my photos and the essay appeared in The Daily Star as a full-page "City in Frames" feature on Tuesday May 12, 2009.)

Just What We Need

2009-05-11T02:20:00.000-07:00

Oh brother! Some telecom company has a new slogan, "Talk More." Come on guys. This nation is all talk. Didn't you pay attention? Everyone loves to talk and talk and talk. And now we need to talk more? Brilliant!

You go to a seminar and everyone talks though likely not a single person has done anything substantive since they graduated from college some decades ago.

You go to a cricket match and everyone talks about how good they could have played if only this and that had happened.

You go by bus and the person next to you is yakety-yakking all the way from Dhanmandi to Gulistan. If their phone batteries don't run out, maybe their head batteries should.

You go to a government office to get some work done and you will hear talk about everything under the sun - except of course your work.

Your driver thinks he can talk his way into a Tk10,000 loan from you. Your cook things she can talk her oversalted curry out of its salt. Your launderer thinks talking can remove that spot they did not bother try to lift. And given half a chance your dentist would probably try to talk your teeth out of their ache.

And I am not even going to mention religion.

So.... No, let's not talk more. Do some work instead!

Things I Miss About America

2009-05-06T21:00:00.000-07:00

The other day I was talking to someone in the US on Skype when the power went. So did our conversation. This led me to the things I miss about America.

1. Uninterrupted power
2. Bookstores with decent English selection
3. REI (a store for outdoor activities)
4. Women on the street and in public places
5. TIE: Hersheys Symphony/Cold Stone Creamery ice cream/Costco Cashews
6. People admitting their mistake
7. Carls Junior's 6 dollar burger
8. Bicycling on Foothill Expressway and Stanford foothills
9. Camping in Death Valley or backpacking in the Sierra
10. And of course all the friends and relatives there.

To be fair, I should also list the things I like most about living here.

1. Hearing conversations, songs, etc on the street in sweet Bangla
2. Household help
3. Zillions of subjects to photograph
4. Boat rides
5. Mountain biking through villages and hospitality of villagers
6. A good Bakorkhani and Kabab from my favorite store in Lalbagh
7. Change of seasons and all that entails, particularly the fruits
8. Walking where my father, mother and grandparents once walked
9. Snacking on cheena-badam, the tastiest variety of peanut on earth
10. Relatives, old friends and new friends here.

Summer's Flowers

2009-04-27T00:56:00.000-07:00

Summer is here with a vengeance. Numerous daily power outages and water shortages are not helping. What to do?

One of the bounties of summer are the flowers, both large and small. Here are some that are blooming all over the country. They offer a respite of sorts.

In my book, the undisputed king of summer flowers is Krishnachura....

....but both Jarul...

...and Sonalu ...

...are contenders for second place.

Large flowers also include Nagalingam ...

...and Copper Pod.

Now for the smaller ones: this here is a Bonak flower...

...while lemon blossoms look just as pretty.

This is a Jamrul blossom.

Here is a pretty flower I found near the University but could not identify - any ideas?

Finally, this is the fruit of the Udal tree, posing as a flower!

Top April Fool Hoaxes

2009-04-01T05:53:00.000-07:00

My friend Brian from sunny California sent me this list.

He likes the one about Alabama changing the value of Pi (#7).

I also liked the left-handed hamburgers (#8).

And how about them spaghetti trees (#1?) What would be a good Bangladeshi version? New hybrid mango trees that grow Morobba? (candied green mangoes) Yum.

Telling Off The Photographer

2009-04-01T04:57:00.000-07:00

I was photographing in a lower-middle-class area of Dhaka where the roads are empty of traffic, children play on their way to school, and grandpas sit on their doorsteps with grandkids on their lap, watching the world go by.

Suddenly I was accosted verbally from behind. "You, sir, why are you taking pictures?" she asked. I ignored her and kept walking. "It won't bring in any money, will it?" she persisted, following me. I still did not turn around, but visually retraced my steps to picture her - probably the matronly mama in her fifties who was chatting with her neighbor a few doors back.

"No, no money," I said, shaking my head.

"I knew it!" she said. "What good are you, taking pictures of the kids going to school and families and people working hard?" She paused, waiting for my reaction. None came but I kept walking.

"See, what you gotta do is find the beggars and lulas (handicapped people) and the sick and take their picture. Then we will be able to get some money. Understand?"

"Oh, I see," I said.

"But, since you insist on taking pictures of the normal around here, why not take the picture of this chatpati wallah woman to your right? And watch for that kid playing up on your left - he is really cute."

A Strange Afternoon

2009-03-29T16:30:00.000-07:00

A strange day yesterday.

Around 4pm I went to the National Heart Foundation Hospital in Mirpur to visit a relative who had checked in for a triple-bypass surgery. At the registration desk I asked for his cabin number, but they could not find him. Making a long story short, although he went in early that morning, they had made him wait all day because the cabin was not ready. I found him at the Uttara bank counter, paying in advance. The receipt was needed to get his cabin.

I hung around for a while. NHF is popular because they have good surgeons doing heart surgery at reasonable prices. For example, a bypass costs around Tk 1.5 lac (USD 2000). But because of the popularity they are completely overwhelmed and just cannot manage the crowds. I met one patient who had checked in three days ago (coming from Sylhet) but was yet to see the doctor. "I see in the newspaper that the doctor is making speeches but how come he won't see me?" he asked, exasperated.

Anyways... after a few words with my relative, I left. Downstairs I returned to the window to return the visitor's badge and collect my Tk 20 deposit which I had to pay for the badge. The desk guy was not there. He arrived soon, looking flush, fist shaking but clenched. Opening his fist he set down a piece of ice the size of a golfball on his desk.

What was this all about? Then I heard the first thunder, and turned to look out the front door over the crowd's head. It was raining - no, it was hailing. Crack, boom. Big pieces of hail. And lots and lots of rain.

My driver had parked the car a block away on the street. I did not want to expose my head to the hail, so I waited inside and watched with the waiting crowd. People would run out from the building, grab a hail, and run back. Some put it on their eyes to soothe them, but none put it in their mouth. A occasional blue/green lightning caused great excitement. At times, the wind changed direction, blowing into the door and bringing a dense sideways shower with it. At this, the crowd moved like a wave away from the door. In typical Bangladeshi fashion, one person tried to bring in their car into a restricted space and got into a big fight with the security guard.

This is nice, I thought, but I have to get going. I called my driver on the mobile to come and get me, since I had no umbrella and had no wish to be soaked. No answer. I called three more times. Still no answer.

So I waited till the hail subsided, fifteen more minutes, and ran to the car in the pouring rain. The driver was not in the car. I yelled his name, and he finally came out of one of the streetside shops. "Where have you been?" I yelled over the rain. "Bhaiya I have news - a hail cracked my head." Oh no. I stopped him and looked for blood flowing from his head. There was none. What gives? "How bad is it? Do you want to go to a doctor now? Or drive me home and then I can send you to the doctor?" Turned out it was a fairly minor injury requiring no stitches. The doctor shaved off that area, cleaned it out and put in several band aids.

What had happened was this. He was waiting inside the parked car when the hail started. The noise was deafening and at one point he could was so frightened that he decided to get out of the car and made a dash for the nearby shop. That's when it hit him.

I don't like hail. It is nasty for trees and crops. And if you think about it, falling from 500feet or more, it can reach a very high speed (v^2=2fs, remember?) - so one landing on your head is not pleasant. But the rain was welcome. I imagine this morning I will see a lot of dented vehicle roofs on the road. But the stinging dust on Dhaka's streets will be gone. I really hope the Boro crop was not affected too badly. In the meantime my relative is waiting in the queue for his surgery. I hope it goes well.

Birisiri Trip

2009-03-14T20:30:00.000-07:00

Last weekend I visited Birisiri with some friends. It is about 170 km north of Dhaka, in Netrakona district. We left on Friday morning and returned Saturday night. The drive is approximately 4.5-5 hours each way, if there are no nasty jams. The last 30kms (1.5 hours) are difficult - a broken road full of potholes. Birisiri is a remote and tranquil place near the Shomeshwari river.

Just like other places, kids go to school in Birisiri...

...then there is the morning commute!

You can run into traffic in Birisiri...

... and there are the inevitable traffic jams.

In winter, Shomeshwari can be crossed easily...

...but you have to hold on to your belongings.

Shomeshwari provides livelihood for a lot of people, eg, boatmen...

...and coal-diggers...

...but for others it is a place for fun...

...or basking in the sun...

While some are playful...

...others are just plain shy.

This area has history. There were several rebellions by the Hajong people against unjust taxes, first against the British then against the Pakistanis. Some were led by Mr. Moni Singh, a revered socialist leader, who hailed from here. He was actually the son of the richest landowner of the area. Here is a monument to the Hajong rebellions.

Today, a different kind of change: solar panel on a store.

Nearby are some clay mines among hillocks. The water turns blue due to minerals.

Another view of this blue water.

Practical details:

We stayed and ate at the YWCA. They were friendly and efficient. Rooms came with attached bath (commodes), cold water only, and they supplied mosquito nets. Room with two beds cost Tk 600 and four meals came to about Tk 260 per person. We rented an engine boat on the river at Tk550/4 hours, plus lunch money for the boatmen. When we wanted to hire rickshaws to travel 2kms to the hills, three of them wanted Tk 500! So we walked. Next time I will bring my bicycle - it is a great place for cycling.

GPS Coordinates:

Shyamgonj (turnoff where the broken road starts): 24-50-42.2N/90-34-27.9E
YWCA: 25-06-14.6N/90-40-30.5E
Kumarkhali (failed rickshaw negotiations):25-09-20.2N/90-39-44.1E
Hillocks: 25-09-31.1N/90-38-34.3E

Acknowledgements: Many thanks to my travelling companions: Milu, Mickey, Ranjit and Badol. Thanks to Milu for providing transportation. Special thanks to Amita Sangma, Milton and the staff at YWCA, and to Mikey Leung.

More Occasions Than You Can Shake a Stick At

2009-03-11T20:03:00.001-07:00

These are trying times for Bangladesh. Maybe it is time to look at the many different occasions, festive or otherwise, that take place here, to show the spirit and diversity of the people?

Serving up Haleem for Iftar During Ramadan

February 21, Language Day

Durga Puja of the Hindus

Bouddha Purnima of the Buddhists

Muharram of the Shi'a Muslims

St. Anthony's Festival of the Catholics

Bengali New Year

Rash Festival of the Manipuris

Bradt Guide on Bangladesh

2009-03-10T19:20:00.001-07:00

New Bradt Guide on Bangladesh written by Mikey Leung and Belinda Meggitt is showing up on Amazon UK as a pre-order item. Expected to ship in Sept 2009.

YouTube Irony

2009-03-10T07:55:00.001-07:00

There is a huge irony in Bangladesh govt blocking YouTube inside the country.

That's because one of the three founders of YouTube is of Bangladeshi-German origin.

That would be Jawed Karim.

Memories of 7 March

2009-03-06T20:40:00.000-08:00

March 7, 1971 seems a long time ago. While I have no memory of what I did on March 6 or March 8 of that year, I have a clear memory of the afternoon of March 7.

At that time Bangladesh was called East Pakistan. It was a province of Pakistan.

A few months earlier, after years of military rule, elections had taken place all over Pakistan. Awami League - led by Sheikh Mujib (Father of the Nation of Bangladesh) - won convincingly. However, the military ruler of Pakistan, Yahya Khan, in collusion with the second place winner Z. A. Bhutto, refused to hand over power. On March 1, the handover was indefinitely postponed.

This move caused great dissatisfaction in East Pakistan. A civil disobedience movement was launched in protest.

It was with this background that the Awami League called the 7th March meeting at Paltan Maidan, a large open air park in central Dhaka. Sk. Mujib was going to speak.

I was in seventh grade, and hardly a political creature. My family had moved to Dhaka from Sylhet less than a year ago. The small-town boy was still trying to find his bearings in the big city.

But this day, I felt a tug to go to this meeting. I was afraid to go alone. So in the afternoon, I somehow made my way from our Mohammedpur home to my Aunt's house in Shegun Bagicha. I had many cousins in that house and hoped to tag along to the meeting with one of them. As I was entering the gates of the sprawling house, I ran into T-bhai. He was older than me but, unlike other older cousins, treated me as an equal, rather than a child.

"Oh, you want to go to that meeting? I was just heading there. Why don't you come with me?" he said. Just as we were out the gate, he stopped. "Wait, I have an idea. Let me get my transistor radio."

"What for, T-bhai?"

"It will be so crowded that we might end up being far from the speaker and have trouble hearing. They will broadcast it live on the radio, so we won't miss the speech."

I thought it was strange, going to a public meeting with a radio. But I kept quiet.

In a few minutes we were at the far end of Paltan, at least half a mile from the stage. We must have looked funny, in that ocean of humanity, straining to listen to the radio while watching the miniscule figures in the distance. I can't remember if anyone else spoke, but when Sk. Mujib came on, we could hear all the words clearly on the radio, while many in the crowd near us strained to hear the loudspeakers. What an orator he was, and what a speech!

Much has been written about this speech, a turning point in Bd history. I certainly cannot add to it. While it fell short of a formal declaration of independence, it was a very persuasive call to resist and fight until the rights of the people were won.

To this day, if I get a chance, I tease T-bhai about that transistor radio. But you gotta admit, it was a smart move on his part.

The Time In Between

2009-03-04T18:29:00.000-08:00

Summer's hot breath is on our back, yet mornings remain cool. Pleasant breezes blow in the afternoon, specially at the lakes and parks of the city. Winter fruits such as Boroi and Aamloki start winding down. Spring flowers - scarlet Mandar, flaming Polash and cool Shimul - light up the countryside. Mahogany trees grow new leaves - fragile, yellow, shiny. Morning fogs become rare, though there was a thick one today.

This is spring, an in-between time, sandwiched by the refreshing cool of winter and the merciless heat of summer. This year's spring is significant as we wait to find out:

- how many hours of loadshedding shall we endure daily in the summer?
- (more to the point) do those RahimAfrooz batteries in the backup power supplies really last as advertised?
- what will be the outcome of the BDR investigation committees?
- (more to the point) will the committees agree on their conclusions?
- will early rains make up for the really dry winter?
- will remittances go down as the world gets deeper into financial mess?
- will Madoff get to keep his penthouse while the poor nations still get lectured on corruption?
- will continued low oil prices destroy green energy initiatives?
- will Bd shipbuilding get govt help like other sectors (garments, food) but software will remain shunned, on its own?
- will the GrameenPhone IPO ever happen?
- will the price of rice make it down to Tk 20/kg (hope not, for the sake of the farmer)

So many questions, so few answers... 8-)

At BDR Gate

2009-02-28T06:28:00.000-08:00

This afternoon I went to BDR gate for the first time since the BDR mutiny, with a friend.

A crowd of people waited outside, many of them journalists. They perked up every time someone came outside. Several vehicles went in and others came out - they were pretty much all Army. We did not even try to get in because they were extremely tight about it.

I am not even sure why I went there. I do not consider myself a journalist or a photojournalist. I certainly did not expect any photo opportunities. In fact, events of the last few days have once again reinforced my belief in not taking photographs during other people's misfortunes (specially moments that should be private.)

However, I still went because something inside nudged me. I can't explain.

Most of the time the journalists stood around bored.

At one point, a village family with a suitcase - looked like they just got off the train - came looking for their loved one. I spotted them as they came towards the gate. Within minutes they were being mobbed by the journalists and photographers. I could not get myself to point my camera at them.

As we waited, this truck full of soldiers went inside the compound.

Some time later, two BDR jowans came out. They had been on leave during the mutiny and had just returned. The press asked them many questions. Here is one of them, Hasibur, listening to a reporter's questions. A part of me could not accept that other jowans, dressed like him, had committed some pretty savage acts. Yet it had happened.

I was there for about 45 minutes. It seemed quite far from the place where so much atrocity had been committed just two days ago. A small trafic jam resulted from the crowd of onlookers. There was a circus atmosphere (and you could argue that me and my friend were also in the audience.) So I left as soon as my friend was done taking his photos.

Who? Why?

2009-02-26T23:30:00.000-08:00

As the extent of the mayhem inside BDR headquarters becomes clear (over 200 Army officers killed), two questions in everyone's mind: Who? and Why?

Who were the planners, ringleaders and assassins of the mutiny? It was a planned event to decapitate the border protection forces. It boggles the mind that the same jawans who were selling low-price rice and daal to the poor during the food crisis after Sidr are the ones who planned and committed these acts - it was not a spontaneous rebellion. If there were indeed cold-blooded assassins let us find them.

Why? I have heard many reasons for this. Suggestions include built up grievances over pay, not being allowed to participate in UN peacekeeping, not getting a share of profits made from selling food.... Someone else suggested that whoever did this wanted to paralyze the border protection (why?) Finally, an intriguing theory from a friend this morning: BDR Headquarters sit on 2.6 sq km of prime land inside Dhaka but if they can be ousted from there, someone can grab this land.

Perhaps we will never know :-(

The Day After

2009-02-25T23:43:00.000-08:00

For once I was actually missing the traffic jams on Dhaka streets this morning. While there were cars out, and children were going to neighborhood schools, traffic density was 1/2 to 1/3 of normal. My car was not allowed to go into New Elephant Road from Shahbagh, though I did go into the University area - and then Nazimuddin Road - without any hassle. Needing to go to Kalabagan, I found that entrance to Mirpur Road south (ie, towards New Market) from Pantha Path was closed. I got down and walked a bit - the Uttara Bank on Mirpur Road was closed, but other shops were open - and saw several big military vehicles headed the way of New Market.

I was informed that at noon the cellphones would be disconnected. It appears that connections with the rest of the country and within Peelkhana is disrupted, but mobiles within Dhaka work.

Then I heard that a lot of firing was taking place at Peelkhana. Speaking to a photographer friend who lives in Dhanmandi near there, it transpired that the newly appointed boss of BDR is someone that the Jawans had wanted, and so they were celebrating by firing into the air. Hopefully that is the correct explanation.

There is talk of shots being fired at other BDR camps inside the country. I don't know how much of that is true. I spoke with my contact in Sylhet town and he said things were pretty normal there. I cannot contact anyone in Srimongol/Mouvi Bazar because cellphones are down.

BDR needs to restore chain of command asap. This is the most crucial thing, I think.

Waiting for PM's address to the nation. In the meantime, foreign press trashing of Bangladesh has resumed with a vengeance. "Bangladesh Becomes Battle Ground" says BBC. Not yet.

Whew!

2009-02-25T05:24:00.000-08:00

With the amnesty, it looks like the standoff will be over soon (hopefully.) MyTV is reporting that the BDR folks in headquarters are waiting for their delegation to return before they release the hostages and lay down their arms.

I for one am looking forward a return to the diet of climate change, corruption and fighting students.

Amnesty?

2009-02-25T04:16:00.000-08:00

Bangla Vision TV reporting that PM has announced general amnesty for all BDR memberss and assured them their demands will be met.

Negotiations

2009-02-25T03:47:00.000-08:00

Those must be some tough negotiations going on right now at the PM's residence where the BDR delegation of 14 arrived about an hour ago.

I understand from my friend in Dhanmandi that the Army and RAB posted outside BDR is waiting, not shooting.

Standoff at BDR

2009-02-25T01:16:00.000-08:00

I was in the car near Gulistan at about 11:30am when I got a call from my Aunt who sounded quite alarmed - "Do you know trouble has broken out in BDR and there is lots of shooting. Army and BDR are fighting. Go home and don't go out of the house." Two minutes earlier, as I was getting in the car, I had overheard a man speaking on his mobile "...so have lots of people died?" I should have stopped and asked him, but can you really butt in like that?

From the car I made several calls and found out that the BDR (Bangladesh Rifles) - or some members thereof - had indeed mutinied to vent their demands for higher wages etc. It was not clear who they had shot at - one version said their own higher-ups, another version said random shooting. What was clear was the Army and RAB (a SWAT-like task force) had been brought in to contain the mutiny. My friend in that area confirmed that they were setting up machine guns and heavy armaments outside the BDR headquarter, in what looks like a standoff.

In the meantime Prime Minister has apparently sent a delegation to negotiate with BDR and bring this thing to a peaceful end. A curfew is expected tonight. I got two SMS's from my kids' school about limited bus services and cancelling tonight's school events. What's weirder, I got an SMS from another school (where my kids have never attended) asking parents to pick up their kids.

I really really hope and pray that this thing ends without further bloodshed.

Budget Airlines Redux

2009-02-16T08:12:00.001-08:00

Back in September I complained about the absence of budget airlines in Dhaka.

Things have changed. Air Asia will start a DAC->KL service on March 12. According to their web site, the price can be anywhere from around USD 60 to USD 100 each way (after adding taxes.) (Compare with current Thai or Malaysia Airlines pricing of around $550 RT to KL.) In Air Asia, you have to pay extra for checking baggage and for your meals, but you still come out way ahead.

This is really great news. After flying to KL, one can fly to various SE Asian countries (or even London) on Air Asia for discounted fares. I fiddled on their website and realized that a RT ticket to London came to about USD700, compared to the pricing of USD1000 for Emirates et al.

Finally, some relief on this front. I hope this service from Air Asia is very successful.

This should also be a good thing for bringing in more tourists to Bd. Now, if GOB would only lower the cost of getting a visa :-)

The Six Hundred Thousand Dollar Man

2009-02-06T23:03:00.000-08:00

The talk of the town: Bangladeshi cricketer Mashrafee who was "sold" to an Indian outfit for $600,000 in an auction. As a friend pointed out, we are now a cricketer-exporting nation :-). AFAIK, the deal means that he will have to play between 15 and 30 days of cricket for this team. In exchange he gets to keep a cool $600k (sans taxes.)

The amount may not be much compared to what Western sports stars make, but here it is staggering. "What will you do with all that money?" appears to be the most common question the cricketer is facing.

Heartiest congratulations to Mr. Mashrafee.

Wish: maybe now Bd national cricket team can stop being surprised by minnow teams?

I am also thinking what this money deal will mean to the younger generations. The good thing is that many more from all strata will feel inspired to play cricket. OTOH, I sure hope that Bd kids don't end up with a bad case of the "inner-city kids NBA dreams syndrome." In the US, lured by dreams of multi-million dollar NBA contracts, many poorer kids give up on their studies, then also fail to make it as basketball stars. The reason is simple: the odds against are astronomical, no matter how good one is.

Nevertheless, this is a Good Thing. It boosts self-confidence on all levels and shows we-can-do-it-too. In a nation so short of visible heroes, one hopes Mr. Mashrafee will end up being one and inspire many others. (Eg, he could publicly encourage kids to stay in school and finish their studies while working on the sports.)

Faces of the Faithful

2009-01-31T17:22:00.000-08:00

The Bishwa Ijtema taking place near Dhaka is the second largest annual gathering of Muslims after the Hajj. An estimated 1.5 million people participate. Here are some people at this year's Ijtema.

Things to See and Do in Bangladesh

2009-01-28T18:57:00.000-08:00

I recently received some emails from people considering a visit to Bangladesh. So here is a list of possible sights and activities.

Sights:

1. Sundarban - a visit to Sundarban, a large mangrove forest in Southern Bangladesh, would be #1 on my list. This is a multi-day guided tour, since you need a boat to get there and explore. See my report on this topic.

2. Srimongol - about 3.5 hours by car from Dhaka, this area contains several tea gardens and Lawachhera national forest. It is easy to explore both Lawachhera and the tea gardens. If you need to stay overnight, the Tea Resort is a good place. Or you can make it a (long) day-trip from Dhaka.

3. Old Dhaka - those interested in architecture as well as exploring narrow alleys and disorientingly crazy crowds can spend days walking through and exploring old Dhaka. Don't miss Bara Katara, Lalbagh Fort, Star Mosque, Armenian Church and Dhakeshwari Temple.

4. Sonargaon - this was the first capital of Bengal, and it still retains historical buildings. Panam Nagar, dating back about 100 years, is an interesting ghost town. A few km away is a replica of Taj Mahal. About an hour from Dhaka.

5. New Dhaka - Curzon Hall, Shaheed Minar, Parliament Building (designed by Louis Kahn) etc.

6. Chittagong Hill Tracts - The Hill Tracts are supposed to be very pretty, but I have not been there for many many years. Guide Tours has a hotel in Bandorbon; there is also Peda Ting Ting, an eco-resort on an island near Kaptai.

7. Coxs Bazar and Kuakata - beaches.

8. Buddhist ruins - There are several ancient (1000+ years) Buddhist ruins spread around the country, including Moinamoti, Paharpur and some near Rajshahi.

9. Rajshahi, Chittagong, Sylhet - The first two are pretty cities to explore. The outskirts of Sylhet (towards Tamabil, and the airport road) are very beautiful.

Also on my list of places to visit are Birisiri, Madhupur and St Martin's Island, but since I have not been there, I cannot tell you too much about them.

Activities

1. Bird-watching - Bangladesh has a huge number of birds, specially in winter. Catch a sight of the Masked Finfoot in Sundarban. Kingfishers, kites, hoopoes and orioles are also common.

2. Mountain Biking - Bangladesh is a great country for mountain biking because there are no mountains. Country roads that connect the villages together provide a splendid network for exploring, and if you come to a river, most likely you will find a boatman who will take you across. Bicycling through the meandering tea-garden paths is also fantastic.

3. Riverboating - a number of companies, including Contiki tours, take tourists on rides on the rivers. Try to get to the Dhaleswari, Meghna or Padma river, and give Buri Ganga and Turag a miss. Balu is ok, too.

4. Learning to Recycle - in Kamrangir Char near old Dhaka, there are some amazing recycling facilities.

5. Hiking - virtually any place outside Dhaka is good for walking. The more remote the place is, the more privacy you will have.

6. Metal Crafts - about 1 hour from Dhaka is Dhamrai, famous for its art and craft. At Dhamrai Metal Craft you can learn how those amazing metal sculptures are made.

7. Photography - if you are into photography, you will find the people of Bangladesh friendly and willing to pose. Or, if you take a trip on the Rocket launch, you will have plenty of opportunities to take pictures of birds and river dolphins. Tea gardens of Srimongol are great for nature photography, and old Dhaka provides opportunities for architectural photography.

8. Gastronomy in old Dhaka - start with some Bakarkhani crackers (available all over old Dhaka) and rich milk-tea, or eat breakfast at Haji's Biriyani in Bangshal (they slaughter 40-50 goats evey night for next morning's biriyani), lunch on a giant Rui-fish steak at Al Razzaque restaurant and in the evening head for mouth-watering kababs at Star Kabab.

9. Shopping - Dhaka is not Dubai, but then you don't need a thick wad of cash either. At Bongo Bazar you can buy export-quality clothes for a pittance. Aarong, Jatra and several other stores sell high-quality handcrafted goods. And don't forget the DVDs.

Brrrrr!

2009-01-12T22:56:00.000-08:00

Early this morning I went outside wearing a short-sleeve shirt and the cold caught me by surprise. It was at least five degrees cooler than the past few days, the sun was MIA, and a cold wind was blowing. Looking around I realized most others were better prepared for the cold than I was...

Children found warmth with Mommy...

...and Grandpa.

Three cold men kept each other company.

...but this elderly woman was walking alone.

The fruitseller was well-insulated both internally and externally...

...but this girl huddled behind her schoolbooks.

Riding on a rickshaw is brutal on a cold morning...

...but walking with your head exposed is no fun, either...

...and the cold can turn you catatonic...

...so most people cover up, with chadors...

...and hoods...

...but perhaps this woman found the best protection against the cold :-)

Well, anyways... Finally, this girl's smile warmed my day.

Khaislot

2008-12-17T07:10:00.000-08:00

There is a Bengali word, Khaislot, which means character but with a snide touch. You hear it used a lot in the same sentence as politicians, for example. In the thirty years I was abroad, the Khaislot of many a Bangladeshi added one characteristic that I wish it had not.

It is the unwillngness or utter inability of admitting a mistake.

Take tonight for example. On the way home I stopped at the furniture store where our old rocking chair was being repainted. A cursory glance showed that the arms of the chair had rough patches on the paint which looked like someone's fingerprints on wet paint.

But the guy would not admit a mistake! He kept insisting that it was ok, it was not a problem. His final stand - the closest to admitting the mistake - was that it would be fine, no problem, because the roughness would eventually smooth out.

Of course I did not accept it. He then tried to sandpaper it but that messed up the paintwork, so he has more work to do.

Reminds me of another incident right after we had arrived here. We bought air conditioners form a reputable company and they sent people to install them. The remotes for the ACs had their own remote control "holders". These holders were designed to be bolted to the wall. Each holder had two holes and came with two screws for bolting them.

(The reason you need two screws is because if you bolt it with just one, it will not stay in one place, but move left and right with every nudge.)

Well, I noticed the guy going around the house bolting the holders with only one screw. When I asked him why he was not using two, he said, "But sir, if I use two, I might make a mistake and not align it perfectly, so it will always look ugly. With one, even if it is a little misaligned, you can nudge it a little and align it. See, like this."

I think that was the closest I came to slapping someone here. I really really wish Bangladeshis learn to own up when they make a mistake and not insult others' intelligence.

After the Party

2008-12-10T05:55:00.001-08:00

Eid-ul-Azha - celebrated by Muslims - is in many ways like Thanksgiving. People eat. They seriously chow down. For many of the poor, perhaps it is one of precious few days in the year when they eat (a lot of) meat.

The day after Eid, people head home after their vacation. Not a happy day for many, with school and work looming on the horizon.

Here are some pictures from Sadarghat, Dhaka's massive river terminal, as people try to return home after the big party.

You make the Eid feeling last a little longer by decking out on new dresses...

... and the henna stays for a few days.

"The shades help me look cool...

...but the crowds are marching to the pier...

... and I know the party is over."

"Hurry Grandpa, you don't want to miss the boat, do you?"

"So many boats here... which one is mine?

... oh, there it is!"

Some have to carry their stuff...

... while others, such as this man, have to be carried themselves.

For many little ones, Mommy is just a kiss away...

...but you really don't want to be lost in a place like this.

"The boat looks pretty big...

... I wonder what our place will look like...

... and whether I will be able to play Horsie."

"Wish Eid had lasted a little longer. But it was good. See you next year!"

At the Monipuri Raash Mela

2008-11-24T07:04:00.000-08:00

Every year, during the full moon in November, the Manipuri people of Sylhet hold a Raash Mela. Meant to celebrate the love of Radha and Krishna, Raash is a colorful indigenous festival of Bangladesh.

In Raash, children wear magnificent costumes...

... and perform a ceremonial dance...

... often culminating with flames offered for worship.

It takes place on the banks of the beautiful Dolai river. People come walking...

...as well as using every imaginable means of transport!

Vendors sell bananas...

... and cookies...

... and of course ice cream for the kids.

Speaking of ice cream, why should kids have all the fun?

Some people seemed preocupied...

...but most joined in the fun...

Women decked out in elegant dresses...

...and memories were preserved for posterity.

Some ignored the crowd and concentrated on their test-drive.

Flutes were a special part of this celebration. In the legend, Krishna had used the magical sounds of his flute to charm Radha.

All in all, an excellent festival to attend. There is also a night part of this festival.

PS:
Manipuris, whose homeland is in the Indian state of Manipur, also reside in some part of Sylhet. How did they come here? Back in the British days, the Manipuri king did not accept colonial rule. So the British defeated him in battle. As punishment he (along with members of his court) were banished to... Sylhet! The Manipuris in Sylhet are decendants of those people.

The Charms of Old Dhaka

2008-11-09T07:26:00.000-08:00

You never know the charming surprises awaiting you when you explore Old Dhaka. As I watched some children playing by the road...

...I heard the rustle of wings, and this man showed up chasing a bird...

... while a little further up, this young man waited around with an unusual dog.

The chores of daily life went on. A boy got water for cooking..

...and lunch looked more promising with this Hilsa sold by a travelling fishmonger.

Elsewhere, two flower sellers enjoyed their morning cuppa..

... as two friends shared a secret.

Old Dhaka is a lot about old buildings. Like the dazzle of Qassabtuli Mosque...

... and the serene formalism of Pogose School...

... but running into unknown old buildings is a special treat, like this one at the Sutrapur end...

... or this old temple which is now someone's home.

Some buildings have welcoming entrances...

... while others have an air of mystery, like this barber shop...

... and yet others speak of longing.

But the melancholy passes quickly when a vivacious girl appears...

...or a pretty woman crosses the street.

Old Dhaka is also the heart of business in Dhaka. It takes all kinds. For example, some make balloons...

...while others sell them...

...during special occasions such as Durga Puja.

So... the next time you are in the area, drop by old Dhaka. It's as colorful as it gets. Like these girls at Dhakeswari Temple.

When Grown Men Cried Tears of Joy

2008-11-05T05:25:00.000-08:00

Today was a very special day for anyone who loves America.

Grown men cried tears of joy, not just in America, but also in many other parts of the world.

Let's hope Obama lives up to his promise.

And let's hope the Bd politicians learn a little from the grace that McCain showed (none of that "hey to churi koira jitya gesey" stuff in December, ok?)

Market Turmoil: View From Here

2008-10-25T01:30:00.000-07:00

An article was floating around the other day suggesting Bangladesh will benefit from the current economic turmoil. It reminded me of the early days of the dot-com crash, when Sun's upper management were going around saying, effectively, "We will come out of this slowdown [it was not a crash yet] ahead of, and better than, our competition because bla bla bla." But of course Sun suffered heavily - for a host of reasons, lack of execution being a big one (but that's what happens when the Process Police takes over, no?) But Sun's management had not foreseen that, had they? You never know what strikes you in these situations.

I am not predicting impending doom for Bangladesh, but I cannot disregard the possibility that this country will be affected sooner of later. I spoke with the owner of a large export-oriented business last night. Some of his customers are cancelling or renegotiating contracts, and slowing down the buying. I also read about several Garments owners complaining about order cancellations. But maybe garments will be spared the worst. As another friend pointed out, "Americans are not going to start walking around naked!" According to him, this turmoil will give the buyers another chance to squeeze their Bangladeshi vendors a little more for lower prices.

The Taka being pegged to a resurgent dollar will not help our exports, for sure. But on the other hand, since most garments factories buy much of their raw material from abroad, their materiel costs (in Taka) will go down. Your head spinning yet? Mine is.

Banking in Bangladesh seems reasonably healthy. Much of this, I am told, has been because of the very strict regulating oversight of Bangladesh Bank (which, in turn, is influenced by World Bank.) Whatever the reasons, the banks in Bangladesh have not gone into the business of those crazy products and practices that have gotten the Western banks into trouble.

When I was chatting with a senior, respectable banker the other day, he pointed out that two years ago, some young, hot-shot, western-type bankers had given him and his colleagues a lecture on Securetization, Mortgage-Backed Securities, and other instruments that had become fashionable to the Western banks. At the end of the lecture, my friend had said, "But how can we go into this business? I still don't understand what you are talking about!" He might have felt bad about saying those words then, but today he is not losing a lot of sleep over toxic assets.

While banking appears on solid ground, remittances from overseas workers is a different, unpredictable matter. Some are saying that the drop of oil prices means the Middle Eastern countries will be starting fewer construction projects, and so will hire fewer people from here. The other side I heard was that the Middle Easterners are now so addicted to our cheap labor that they will keep on recruiting no matter what. Who knows?

Finally, real estate. When you have 150 million people squeezed into 55000 square miles, land is expensive. Two words: population pressure. Some, specially those who are in the business, don't see much effect on real estate prices. They argue that many of the buyers are local who have accumulated their wealth in Taka and are ready to spend on flats and land. Others say that real estate will have to slow down because the remittances and exports will slow down. Who knows?

On final reckoning, the market turmoil in the West does seem very far away from the average Bangladeshi, because that person is struggling so hard just to make ends meet and take care of those who depend on him or her. The optimist in me says being so close to tbe bottom of the barrel means that the Bangladeshi will not have to bear a heavy brunt of this storm, while the pessimist says that in times of crisis the worst hit are often those at the bottom of the heap. Who knows? Only time will tell.

Good Day for IT in Bangladesh

2008-10-06T18:32:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I attended the inaugural ceremony of the Chittagong Custom House Automation Project at the Bd-China Friendship Center. The project is an undertaking by the Bangladesh Army with cooperation from Ctg Chamber of Commerce. It has a large software component which was developed by DataSoft, a Bangladesh software company.

The goal of the project was to "clean up" and modernize the Customs business at Ctg Port. According to the speakers, there were large inefficiencies and a lot of organized corruption which were choking the import/export lifeblood of the nation. The software component of the project is designed to automate the workflow of import/export paperwork.

The total cost of the project came to about Tk 2 crore. Significantly, under previous administrations, projects costing over Tk 300 crore had failed to modernize the port, as one of the speakers pointed out. (I am not sure what the previous large budgets had included.)

DataSoft is using the Build-Own-Operate-Transfer model to run the project. I assume this means they get an amount from every transaction that takes place.

As an example, the number of steps needed to export something through Ctg Customs House has been reduced from 22 to 7. Similar savings in time and cost were shown in other areas of operation.

The entire project was done with local skills (no foreign consultants or companies involved.)

It is not every day that one hears good things about the local IT business from local luminaries. Therefore, this event was a pleasant surprise for me, particularly because of the support for IT shown by all the speakers: the Chief Advisor and two other Advisors, Army Chief and Generals, Ctg Chamber of Commerce Head and NBR Head. I am sure the hard (and smart) work that the DataSoft team put into the project had a lot to do with this IT-friendly attitude.

At the end of the ceremony, the CA officially started the business of the new CTG Customs House by Clicking "OK" on a live program to start the transactions. DataSoft COO Manjur Mahmud - after making a short presentation on the technology - assisted the CA in this. Behind the scenes, DataSoft MD Mahboob Zaman's dynamism played a big role.

The local IT industry has much to be proud of. Despite an overall lack of vision and questionable (or downright bad) decisions by successive governments, and constant pressure from foreign software companies, they have accomplished much. Perhaps this event will usher in a new era of our national pride and support?

Congratulations to all - particularly to the DataSoft team - on this accomplishment. I hope this plays out well in the long run.

I think it is high time for the IT industry in Bangladesh to go on the offensive!

(Full Disclosure: I was once associated with DataSoft as their CTO - but can claim no credit for this project which started after I left.)

Eid Portraits

2008-09-30T19:06:00.001-07:00

Here are some photos of Eid children, taken within the last week. This is a happy time for most kids because they get new clothes, shoes, toys, ornaments, etc. Besides, everyone else is also in a happy mood.

On the way to Mohakhali bus station.

Waiting around to board the launch at Sadarghat.

"Care to join me for a drink at the Bus Terminal?"

For this boy who carries luggage and goods in Sadarghat, it was an exhausting day.

In the Chittagong train at Kamalapur.

Twins Saad and Sadat wait for their bus in Mohakhali.

This girl has decorated her hands with Mehndi (henna).

Photo-apprehensive sisters at Sadarghat launch terminal.

How do you like my new blue bangles?

Cheeky fellow waiting for the bus.

Budget Airlines

2008-09-24T08:46:00.000-07:00

Seeing a newspaper story about Air Asia given permission to fly in/out of Bangladesh, I was thrilled by the headline. But when I read the article, I discovered that they will be given permission to fly only to Chittagong, not Dhaka.

This really sucks. Between Thai, Singapore, Emirates and British Airways (plus a few others) the higher-priced airlines have the Bangladesh market locked up. I have heard, for example, the DAC->BKK->DAC route is the most profitable route in the world for Thai Airways. At USD 660 Roundtrip, this route and similar ones for SQ, etc, are juicy juicy plums. I am sure mainstream airlines are lobbying hard to keep the budget airlines out.

The fact that not a single budget airline serves ZIA says a lot, doesn't it? GMG was offering some good prices on their two or three overseas routes, but then they took a hit and shut down their foreign operations. It just seems like Dhaka passengers are destined to keep paying high prices for their overseas flights :-(

UPDATE Oct 29, 2008: GMG announced yesterday they are resuming flights to KL and Kathmandu. Hopefully lower fuel prices will help them along.

Story

2008-09-17T08:09:00.000-07:00

Mahmud Rahman has a poignant yet funny short story in the Eid Issue of New Age, with an NRB protagonist, set in the Bay Area. I understand a collection of his short stories will be published soon by Penguin India. Way to go!

If you like the story you can read more at his website.

(btw, NRB stands for Non Resident Bangladeshi, although some perma-deshis say it also stands for Non Reliable Bangladeshi :-). )

Iftar Colors

2008-09-04T21:49:00.000-07:00

Something happens on the streets as Iftar, the end of the fast, draws near every day during Ramadan.

Trying to get home in time for Iftar (6:16pm today, for example), the city's working people stop along the way to pick up Iftar food from street vendors. The vendors in turn set up shops colorfully to entice not just the tastebuds but also the eyes of their customers.

Here are some Iftar colors from the streets of Dhaka.

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Muri or puffed rice (like Rice Krispies) is a perennial favorite at Iftar. Throw in chopped green chilis and shallots with a dash of mustard oil and lemon juice to make a delicious snack that does not sit too heavy in the stomach.

Dates are also very popular for breaking fast.

When the vendors start setting up shop, they don't have many customers....

...however, as the hour draws near, the crowds move in and money changes hands.

Haleem, a thick soup made from seven varieties of lentils and mutton or chicken, also sells well (though I find it a bit too heavy right after the fast.) These are the containers it is sold in, with prices attached...

...Haleem makers at work...

...and serving it up.

Meanwhile, back in the shop, this shopkeeper preps his own Muri fixings.

Many restaurants stay open during the day, but they cover the entrance with yellow or red curtain, so people dining inside do not offend the fasting people outside.

Near the Iftar stores, these kids were selling Ramadan and Eid greeting cards...

... and this man peddled religious paraphernalia.

At the end of a long day, Iftar shopping done, this man goes home with the booty.

How to Foil a Tree Thief

2008-09-02T06:40:00.000-07:00

In rural Bangladesh, your iPod, laptop, or fancy digital camera is usually not a target of thieves. After all, what will a poor villager, driven to theft by sheer poverty, do with one of these gadgets? There is no market for them. (Cellphones are a different matter - you must keep them carefully wherever you go.)

Turns out the two things that village thieves go after most are trees and cows.

Although punishment meted out to cow-thieves is more severe, I think tree-thieves are the worse by far. Think about it. You plant a tree, spend years watching it grow, and one night it is gone. It will take years to grow it back, no matter how much money you throw at it.

My father had to deal with many tree-thieves all his life in his farm. About ten years ago thieves took one of his prized Teak (segun) trees. This was a tree he had planted three or four decades ago. It had weathered many storms and droughts and achieved an impressive girth. Then one morning it was no more.

My father was so upset and enraged that he got his men to dig up the stump, roots and all, and replanted it closer to his bungalow where the thieves would not dare touch it. Lo and behold, after ten years, two shoots from the stump are 20-30 feet tall. Two new shoots emerged this year. The tree has new life.

So there you have it - adapt to a new timescale and you too can foil a tree thief!

Photoblog on Bangladesh

2008-08-24T04:39:00.001-07:00

I have launched a photoblog on Bangladesh. The idea is to focus only on photographs showing various aspects of the country. I hope to update 2-3 times a week, sometimes with new pictures, sometimes with older ones in my stock.

It is brand-new and I am still fine-tuning it. If you have suggestions for improvement I will be grateful if you let me know, either as a comment here or in the photoblog itself.

Many thanks to Shams and Rajon for their help in this project.

Victories Big and Small

2008-08-07T07:22:00.001-07:00

Now that everyone's minds are on the Olympics, here are some tidbits about competitiveness as it relates to Bangladeshis.

-------------------

In the 2008 Math Olympiad in July, the Bangladeshi team ranked 75 out of 101 teams that participated. Bangladesh was sandwiched between Finland (74) and Iceland (76.)

This compared to their 80th (out of 102) ranking last year. Certainly a step in the right direction. Congrats to the team and all who worked on this.

-------------------

I don't follow chess at all, but someone pointed out to me the other day that Enamul Hossain Rajib, the 5th Grand Master from Bangladesh, scored an upset victory over Ukraine in the World Cup Chess Tournament in 2007. This placed Bangladesh in the second round, among the top 60 teams in the world. If you counted only Asian countries, Bangladesh was among the top ten. Now, if I could only play that game...

I have always felt that our chess players are really good and deserve more media attention than they get.

-------------------

From Silicon Valley, Talukder sisters Sabera and Leilah won First Place at the 2008 US National Synchronized Swimming Competition held at Binghamton, New York. Their team Los Gatos Angelfish won the First Place and they landed Gold Medals. If they keep going this way we can see the sisters at the Olympics one day.

So what is the Bangladesh connection, you ask? Their dad Shah Talukder is from Bangladesh (mom Darlene is American.) Congratulations, girls!

Here is a picture of the Champion sisters, courtesy of Papa Talukder.

-------------------

We now return you to the inevitable Olympics.

Good Cook, Bad Doctor

2008-08-06T20:13:00.000-07:00

Our cook has been with us for almost a year now. Finding a person who can cook well is difficult in Dhaka. Problem is, those who can cook well know they are good and are full of attitude (and not to mention expensive.) Although she is not exactly Michelin 4-star, our Cook can get the job done. And she has the right attitude.

A few months ago, something curious happened. Cook started acting strange. She started forgetting things. She mixed up her spices. In some dishes salt became the main ingredient. Normally energetic cook always seemed tired and she seemed on the verge of losing her mind. We were perplexed. No amount of explaining, scolding, or yelling helped.

Since so much of our daily life depends on Cook - and if you know Dhaka life, you know that she can make or break your day every day - this started creating a lot of stress for us. Not to mention Cook, who was now really worried about what was happening to her.

Then one night my wife had a brainwave. "Wait, didn't she start taking some medicines last month?" By that time Cook had gone home, so we decided to wait till the next day.

The next morning, after toasts were burned and curdled milk poured into tea, I asked Cook about any medication she was taking. At this point, I should point out that Cook is quite overweight and had high blood pressure, for which reason she had visited the doctor. She had seemed happy with her visit and we had not pursued things further.

Anyways, Cook asked me to wait, went off into the kitchen and returned with a handful of pills. Get this, there were seven different medicines for: heart, ulcer, blood pressure, diabetes, headaches, plus a couple of others I did not recognize. "Do you have ?" I asked her after I read the name of each medicine, and she shook her head "No." I think the only thing was her diabetes, for which she needed to lose weight.

The doctor she had gone to had prescribed her all these medicines without explaining what they were for. I suggested to her she think twice before taking them. She saw a second doctor and then dropped all the medication, and decided to go on a diet to lose weight.

A few days later, somewhat enraged over her ordeal, she decided to visit the old doctor to give him a piece of her mind. She returned empy-handed - the bad doctor had closed up shop and disappeared because so many people of the neighborhood were mad at him.

Cook is doing fine these days. Her mind and her memory are both back. She lost some weight which helped her diabetes. I have not asked her if she is taking any medications. Hmmm, maybe I should ask one of these days?

A Book of Photographs

2008-07-29T04:10:00.000-07:00

Recently I got a copy of the second edition of The People at Kamalapur Railway Station by Bangladeshi photographer Hasan Saifuddin Chandan. It is a book of black and white photographs, about seventy in all, taken at Kamalapur during the late 80s-early 90s.

In my eyes, this is one of the best - if not the best - book of photographs to have emerged from Bangladesh. Not only are the individual photographs excellent, but the sequencing and layout of the book are meticulous. The whole is thus bigger than the sum of the parts. The author understands not just how to take great pictures but how to put them together as a great book.

The book tells stories at many different levels. On the surface there is the great commotion of life that takes every day at Kamalapur. Then there are tender, sometimes witty stories about families (see the photo below), about motherhood, about social hieararchies (the single-file procession of Master, Mistress, child and servant walking along the tracks, p.12) about desire (boy staring intently on a handful peanuts being measured on a Palla, p.29) and spiritualism (man in prayer Sejda, p.13) - many with backdrops of the dramatic architectural elements of Kamalapur - they all come together in this book.

The book undergoes a shift in mood after an essay by the author on page 52. The photos become more melancholy and personal, whereas in the first part they were life-affirming and joyous, even in the poverty and deprivation. Old age and death play a big role in the second part, as do people whose life stories will most likely have no happy ending.

Chandan's work has been seen in many galleries and museums worldwide. He is one of the founders of MAP photo agency and has won numerous awards and honors over the years as a photographer.

The second edition has a few more photographs than the first. Compared side-by-side with the first edition, the printing is much better. Some photo details that were unclear on the first edition become clearer due to high-res scanning of the negatives. The size is a tad smaller at 26cmx34cm (it is still a large book.) The book is available from Words N Pages in Gulshan, Jatra in Banani, and Boi Bichitra in Dhanmandi Rd 27. It is worth every Taka of the Tk1300 price tag.

Here is one of my favorite photos of the book, reproduced with permission from Chandan.

Ekkerey Dekhaya Disey (They've Shown Us)

2008-06-08T08:50:00.000-07:00

Strange coincidence. In the last two weeks, I ran into two completely unrelated people - both highly qualified, PhD economist types working at responsible jobs - who told me the same thing.

The essence of what they said: Look at our farmers and what happened in the last few months. It only goes to show that if they get enough support, our farmers can really perform beyond expectations. The government assured them enough fertilizer and electricity for irrigation (I know, because even in the nicest neighborhoods of Dhaka loadshedding was brutal this summer). And they showed what they can do. Ekkerey dekhaya disey.

True, the Boro harvest was amazing. But the potato harvest before that was pretty large too. Knock on wood - let's hope it keeps going this way.

In my mind, more than anyone else, one person is responsible for the reinvigorated Bangladeshi farmer: Shykh Shiraj.

How about a ticket next election of Shykh Shiraj and Magistrate Rokon-ud-Dowla, huh?
That would be interesting...