Posts tagged with dhaka.

Within an inch of death

Raksha Vasudevan, June 15, 2009 at 10:13 AM

 

I've been in Dhaka for a month now, and it's amazing how comfortable I feel in a city where nothing stays the same for long - the weather swings from scorching to drenching within an hour, the traffic is so unpredictable that I come within an inch of death (or at least serious bodily harm) at least five times a day when crossing the streets. If you're on a rickshaw, you might be riding along, carefree, one moment, and the next, the vehicle will be hopelessly stuck in the mud and you'll have been besieged by at least a dozen kids with big eyes and begging hands.

Because there's no such thing as routine here, it's futile to try and plan more than a couple of days in advance. Being forced to abandon my somewhat neurotic list-making and schedule-arranging habits is making me change in unexpected ways. I feel more relaxed, I smile a lot more, I smell, taste, feel, see and just plain live more. Even if I don't get anything else out of my time here, I'll always be grateful to this country for waking me up.

I'm also beginning to grasp how important it is for the right social, cultural and physical conditions to be in place for micro finance to be truly effective. Nowhere is there more evident than in Bangladesh, where the flat topography, dense population and heavy dependence on natural resources which sensitive to sea level rise put the country at the top of the list of nations most affected by climate change (think: more floods, cyclones, droughts, river bank erosion which drives people off the land, ). I attended a seminar on micro finance where the Director of BRAC's micro finance program was present (BRAC stands for Bangladesh Rural Advancement Committee, one of the largest NGOs and micro finance service providers in the country). He asked what micro finance institutions should do when clients are hit not just once, but repeatedly by 'extreme events' such as those clients of BRAC in the area who lost everything during the floods of 2007, began to rebuild their lives, but only to experience the same devastation with the most recent cyclone that hit the country a few weeks ago. As far as I could tell, he didn't receive a clear answer. Micro finance raises many interesting ethical questions, and this is one of them: is it ethical for banks to stop offering loans to clients whom in the normal course of events, can be expected to repay their loans on time, but are sometimes hindered by external, uncontrollable forces?

Most of my work is at the head office in Dhaka - right now, I'm working on a proposal for a project that would require our organization (if selected) to conduct research on the types of sanitary latrines that would be most feasible for 'difficult' areas (i.e. urban slums, those that are highly flood or drought prone, very hilly regions). The issue of waste management seems simple but in this country, it's anything but: how can you justify building latrines in the flood-prone regions, knowing that they will probably be washed away in six months? How do you stop people from littering constantly, when it's something they've grown up doing and the government doesn't have the resources to collect or properly dispose of the waste? How do you convince people that washing their hands can kill germs that they can't see?

I once asked my boss why BASA was involved with waste management activities - why didn't we just concentrate on micro finance? He answered that the only way to make people and communities self-sustaining was to give them the tools to a good life, and money was only one aspect of that - suitable sanitation facilities, and more importantly, knowledge of proper hygienic practices, is mandatory for true development (i.e. development that concentrates on aspects beyond only raising incomes) to occur.

Aside from work, there have been plenty of things to do - after all, we have a whole country to discover! I have to admit, we've spent quite a lot of time shopping, but we avoid the modern malls with their neatly ordered shops, choosing rather to visit the hectic and confused street markets. There's something exhilarating about weaving your way through the stalls that are jammed in one next to the other, about learning to bargain like a local (tip: never pay more than half their initial asking price, and always, always be ready to walk away), and of course, about spending approximately three to four times less than what you would in the neighbourhood mall.

The other highlights have included visiting Cox's Bazaar and old Dhaka. Cox's Bazaar is regarded as the world's longest beach, and is on the list of nominees for the world's seven natural wonders. I can tell you that its sheer size, and simple, clean beauty are breathtaking. The peace and quiet also offer a wonderful getaway from hectic city life: at night, the only sounds you can hear are the insects chirping and the waves crashing on the beach.

Old Dhaka (the historic district of Dhaka city), on the other hand, is almost the exact opposite: It's a noisy whirlwind of tourist attractions, impossibly narrow alleyways, and the best biryani (basically, rice with spices and curry sauce) in the country. Dhaka University, Lalbagh Fort, the National War Museum - they are all popular spots for tourists, but nonetheless, they offer valuable insight into the forces that influenced Bengali culture. The pride they took in fighting for their liberation from Pakistan, the keen interest that students feel in the politics of the nation (Dhaka University is an epicentre for student activism - numerous protests, riots and other political movements have originated there). And parts of Old Dhaka, like Lalbagh Fort - a sprawling estate complete with lush green gardens, a mosque, a tomb and several extravagant fountains - add a touch of grandeur to this rough-'n-tough metropolis.

Tagged with dhaka | Comments (3) |

Welcome to the "concrete jungle"

Raksha Vasudevan and Helen Hsu, May 29, 2009 at 4:25 PM

It's 7 o'clock at night here in Dhaka city and the power's out...for the third time today. Bangladesh currently has about a 2,000-megawatt shortfall between the country's demand and what can be generated by the country's plants. Without the money or resources to upgrade electrical capacity, the government has decided to deal with the shortfall by cutting the power to the country on a rolling basis. Since we live and work in relatively "upper class" neighbourhoods, we usually experience power outages only about three times a day, each time for about an hour. Other parts of the city have their power cut as often as every other hour. Electrical shortages are as much a part of life here as the humidity that wraps around you like a wet towel as soon as you step outside. I've been here now for two weeks, and my  body has acclimatized somewhat: instead of the sweat pouring out of me like a faucet the minute I step outside, I can usually walk for a few minutes before having to mop up the perspiration on my face.

The humidity is a mild annoyance compared to the intense discomfort you feel when you see the wide gap between the wealthy and the poor here. The stark contrasts that exist in this country are completely intriguing to me. The mansions in Gulshan, the richest neighbourhood in town, would rival those you'd find in Beverly Hills, and the inhabitants have the lifestyles to match (think: lots of servants, BMWs, and security guards with rifles). But on the same street, you'll inevitably encounter a desiccated beggar, children with sores on their face and sharp looking ribs, and women who are 30 pounds lighter than they should be.

Dhaka, the capital city and where I'm living, is aptly nicknamed "the concrete jungle" of Southeast Asia. It's crammed with skyscrapers, garment factories and residential buildings, and the number of people that live their lives in this metropolis is truly incredible (Dhaka has one of the highest population densities of any city in the world). The rainbow coloured rickshaws, the hidden side streets with hundreds of vendors selling everything from mops to luggage to live chickens, and even the slums in the middle of "modern" neighbourhoods, provide a welcome relief to the layers upon layers of concrete life.

I and the other AIESEC interns live in a small apartment in an area known as DOHS Baridhara. The "DOHS" stands for Defense Officer Housing Society, meaning that it was built for former members of the army. It's a huge plus for us, because the DOHS neighbourhoods are also the safest ones, since no one wants to cause trouble in an area with former militia. That being said, the only trouble I've had (if you can even call it that) is being the target of a LOT of staring, and understandably so: I look Bengali (I'm from India), but at 5-foot-7, I'm about five inches taller than the average resident, and when I'm not wearing the local shalwar kamiz (a traditional dress worn in South Asia involving loose pajama-like trousers and a long tunic), I tend to really stand out.

The non-governmental organization that I'm working for here - the Bangladesh Association for Social Advancement, also known as BASA - is really impressing me. There are about 300 people in total working for the NGO, with 30 of them working in the head office in Dhaka. Right now, I'm working closely with some of the senior officers in putting together a project proposal on improving the aquaculture practices of rural farmers. I also had the chance to visit one of the slums in the rural areas where BASA has built sanitary toilet facilities for the residents of the slum to use. That was one of the most exciting experiences I've had so far: seeing the enthusiasm of the residents, especially the children, over having such basic facilities. And the sense of gratitude that I felt then, for always having had a decent bathroom to use and safe water to drink, will stay with me for a long time. Another curious contrast here that I must mention: most of the residents of the slum don't have access to clean drinking water, but almost all of them had nicer cell phones than I do! People here are nothing if not connected.

The one other feature about Bangladesh that would be a crime for me not to describe are the people: in spite of the language barrier, never have I met people more friendly and welcoming than I have in this country. Navigating through this frenzied labyrinth of a city, bargaining with the rickshaw drivers, warding off the "beggars" that carry tiny snakes in innocent looking boxes (which they'll open if you don't spare them some change), crossing the roads that have neither traffic signals nor crosswalks  - one person or another has always been there to lend a hand. It's amazing how help just seems to appear here every time I start feeling like a fish out of water.

I'm sure there'll be many ups and downs in the remaining three and a half months that I have left here. Monsoon season is just around the corner, and there'll soon be seven people living in our "mini apartment." But there's a lot to look forward to as well: there are many parts of Dhaka (not to mention Bangladesh) that I've yet to visit, lots of learning to be done at work about micro credit, waste management, legal aid, etc. and I just got invited to a Bengali wedding! Even though it's only been two weeks, I feel so at home here, and I can't wait to get more wrapped up in the culture, the places, and most of all, the people, of Bangladesh. 

Tagged with poverty, wealth, aquaculture, rural, farmers, slums, sanitation, dhaka, outages, bangladesh, power, bengali | Comments (3) |