Desde que llegué a Dhaka, he vivido tantas cosas que apenas y me la creo que solo llevo 3 semanas aqui. Son tantas experiencias vividas y tan pocas escritas en este blog, debido a que casi siempre me toca escoger entre Salir/rumbear vs. escribir en el blog (y adivinen cual lado va ganando).
Afortunadamente tengo mis compañeros de apartamento que tammbién están trantado de mantener actualizados a sus amigos. Una de ellos es Laura, mi commpañera de cuarto, quien llegó hace 2 semanas y acaba de escribir una nota en facebook sobre su vida aqui. Decidí compartir con ustedes una parte de su nota porque refleja (en muchos aspectos, no todos) varias de las cosas que yo también he vivido pero que no les he podido contar a todos.
Asi que, aqui va (perdón por los q no hablan inglés, pero me da mucha mamera traducirlo):
"...And then my arrival in Bangladesh! Dhaka is a crowded, hectic, loud, and surprisingly beautiful city. You would absolutely not see how gorgeous it can be if you weren't looking. But then your rickshaw driver takes you across a bridge, and you see the amazingly green growth surrounding the river and it's quite picturesque. Perhaps you'll all get to see, if I ever get around to uploading some pictures on facebook. :) And the colours you see are abslutely fantastic. Whether it's the shelwar kamises the women wear (the traditional dress for women), the houses, the plants, or the rickshaws (which have some of the most fantastic decarations you have ever seen), the city is full of vibrant colour. Not to mention the people. I though Canadians were friendly... we ain't got nothing on these guys. Everyone I have met is so unbelievably friendly and hospitable, and they will bend over backwards to help you out.
So I was picked up at the airport by two guys from AIESEC, Shaffi and Yamin. My first impression of driving in Bangladesh: lanes are optional!!! No, I'm not kidding. Driving in this city is NOT for the faint of heart. After (somehow) not crashing about a dozen times, we arrive at the place I will be staying. It's actually a set of rooms added on to the roof of an apartment building, so we have a great huge "patio" in the front, which is awesome to chill on. The place itself... a bit small, you could say. Three rooms, 6 people, a kitchen that's so big I can almost get my left leg into it, and a living room that's only slightly bigger. That might be an exaggeration. But it's not the Ritz, let me promise you. The other distinctive feature: the beds are HARD. I think mine is filled with rice. Actually. They don't have cotton beds here because the heat and humidity would make the material go moldy. So they used instead what they had spare. Rice, it seems. It took awhile to get used to, but I've managed to stop waking up in the middle of the night because blood has stopped flowing to my leg because of the pressure on my hip. :)
BUT, despite my living space being less than spectacular, my room mates are terrific! The girl I share a room with is named Martha, and she's from Colombia. Then there's Karen, who's from Denmark. She was the first one I met, and made me feel much better when I first arrived, because I realized I really didn't have to say anything at all and she could just keep going and going ! (Just kidding Karen, you're absolutely amazing!! i just had to put that in. :) ) Then there's Anneke, who's from Germany and has been here for about two months, Judith, also from Germany, and then Bastian, ALSO from Germany (they're freaking everywhere, I'm telling you), who I am working with at CPD. They are my new family and have made the first few weeks absolutely amazing!
Well my first few days were pretty much just spent trying to figure out where the hell I was. The first day I asked Shaffi (who has been absolutely AMAZING, I certainly would have been kidnapped/mugged/bought by now if it wasn't for him) where I could find a map of the city, and he said "well, we don't really HAVE maps." Which I've found out isn't totally true, but might as well have been for the usefulness one would have provided. All the roads have numbers, but no one knows what the numbers are. Nor do rickshaw drivers know where any but the most major landmarks are. So really, you basically just have to know where to go. Instinctively, I guess. Luckily, I was shown. So I learned how to get to and from my apartment, I learned the Bengala words for left, right, and straight, to tell the rickshaw driver, and I was off! Kind of. I managed to get to the grocery store down the street. :)" Laura Jepson
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