So I have been here a total of five days (am not going to lie, though the days go fast, it seems much longer). It has cooled down some, such that after a cold shower (under two fans at high speed) I actually needed my sheet for some warmth (if only briefly).
Typical day for me consists of waking at ~7 AM (initially earlier, now later). As most people know, this is ridiculously early for me, but I find it easier to work in the mornings - its cooler and I am less likely to be distracted. The fact is, there are seven of us living in 3 rooms. Rupa (the doctor I am with here) and I share a room (while there are FIVE!! people who share the other bedroom. Though bedroom is a loose term, as it really does function as office, living room, entertaining room and sleeping room. Last night, I literally just packed it in and laid down despite the fact that two additional people were working in my room.
From 9 until about noon Rupa (and now I) work(s) with the staff, for "capacity building," basically training them to give surveys and process the information. (I also just realized I never fully explained my project here. Basically we are going to the more remote villages outside of Narsingdi (which is, itself, an hour outside of Dhaka)... they are small communities on the chars (islands) of the Meghna River. A friend of Rupa's is setting up an NGO - Ongkur (which means sapling in Bangla). We are currently working on determining the family planning practices of the women and men on these islands - we want to know if they use contraception or if they want to and how we can improve access. Why do we care? Bangladesh is amongst the most densely populated countries on the planet, with a current population that exceeds 150 million. Couple this with ridiculously limited resources and you get a very large problem. The poverty is astounding. The healthcare nonexistent).
Sorry for the digression... back to a typical day. Around noon we leave by CNG - a motorcycle-like object (run on compressed natural gas, hence CNG) with a covered seat in the back: usually 5 of us pile in and take the ~40 minute ride to the "dock," where we pick up a wooden motorboat (steering is provided by a wooden rudder, operated by the boatman). The CNG drivers are reminiscent of cabbies in New York - lots of honking and swerving (though it is usually on account of the cows or goats leisurely crossing the road, or the massive number of people on the streets of the mass of rickshaws and CNGs coming in the opposite direction). As for the boat ride, it is usually quite pleasant. In ~20 minutes we reach the chars and administer our survey to ~4 or so people (which actually takes ~1.5-2 hours). More on char life later.
We take the same route home, where I usually take my second of 3 showers. There ensues eating, more work and then collapse into bed, only to awake and repeat!
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Day 2
Arrived yesterday and took a one hour (air conditioned yay!) bus ride to Narsingdi where I will be staying for the next 5+ weeks. The trip and ensuing day was definitely a crash course in Bangladeshi culture. Again, I can only describe it as an assault on the senses.
But before I elaborate further, I need to comment on the heat. I am pretty sure that with the humidity it is (minimum) 5000 degrees. Every small movement leaves me sweating profusely; even breathing seems to take a lot of effort. We carry around towels to wipe our faces. I went to sleep after a cold shower and woke up SOAKED in sweat. I was just lying there and yet appeared as if I had run a marathon. Twice. OK, digression complete.
So I arrived in Dhaka (amidst applause) around ~8 AM. The flight from Dubai was not as comfortable as my first flight, given that it was quite crowded, everyone was very pushy (the announcement was made that zone A was boarding and all 400 passengers rushed the gate) and deodorant was clearly optional (myself included, as I had not packed it in my carry-on). I realize many aspects of this are cultural, so I tried not to become irritated, though it was occasionally difficult. I had a lovely little Bangledeshi lady next to me who kept trying to speak to me in Bangla; I estimated she was about 50 years old, but in helping her fill out the passport paperwork discovered she was a mere three years older than myself. During the flight, she would intermittently grab my wrist (didn’t matter if I was sleeping, wrapped up in my blanket, engrossed in the inflight movie) to check the time on my watch: initially this was endearing, but mid-nap it became rather annoying (especially when it occurred what seemed like 20 times; I would be sleeping or watching TV and I’d feel this random clawing at my wrist... it was also apparently impossible for her to get anything out of her bag without elbowing me(hard!) in my left boob at least fifty times.... impressive given that she was shorter than I and very petite).
When we landed I was carried by a sea of Bengalis to customs and then to the baggage claim. As expected my 900 lb bag was amongst the last to appear. And similar to boarding the plane, all 400 people vied with several baggage carts to be RIGHT next to the conveyor belt. If they saw one of their bags coming around they would simply run up on the conveyor to the other side and grab it, rather than wait the 10 seconds for it to come around. The whole process took well over an hour and a half. During this time I met a young, English-speaking Bengali lady thought it was very amusing that I was there and who was clearly skeptical that I would survive the encounter. Which of course is exactly what I wanted to hear upon my arrival. In my head, I was like, “I’m from New York... I’ll show you.” And then on the walk to the bus I almost got pickpocketed: we were walking through the street and I was carrying my two carry-ons, trying to avoid being runover (by cars, buses, rickshaws, you name it) and avoiding the persistent stares, when a little girl of about 6 literally latched on to my pink backpack. I (again literally) could not shake her; I was in the process of bringing said backpack to the front (with her attached, I guess), when I noted that her hand was already rummaging around in the lower pocket. Nothing was lost as the entire crowd quickly starting yelling at her.
Managed to make it to the bus in one piece and quite fortuitously, it was just leaving (ie no waiting in the crowd for me). The air conditioning was savory, the child intermittently retching into a plastic bag (which was then flung out the window and shattered on the pavement) in front of me not so much. Despite the heat, my desperate thirst and overwhelming exhaustion there was no vomiting from my end.... yet.
Am about to embark on my first day of survey administration this morning. Am praying the sun goes in during our ~1 hour boat ride. Have I mentioned the heat is oppressive? OK, more on my lodgings (and rickshaw rides) later as well as my first day in the field.
(Also forgive my my misspellings and any format issues. The internet won't let me preview anything so I have no idea what it looks like. Will try to post pictures as well, though this may also be limited by internet capabilities).
But before I elaborate further, I need to comment on the heat. I am pretty sure that with the humidity it is (minimum) 5000 degrees. Every small movement leaves me sweating profusely; even breathing seems to take a lot of effort. We carry around towels to wipe our faces. I went to sleep after a cold shower and woke up SOAKED in sweat. I was just lying there and yet appeared as if I had run a marathon. Twice. OK, digression complete.
So I arrived in Dhaka (amidst applause) around ~8 AM. The flight from Dubai was not as comfortable as my first flight, given that it was quite crowded, everyone was very pushy (the announcement was made that zone A was boarding and all 400 passengers rushed the gate) and deodorant was clearly optional (myself included, as I had not packed it in my carry-on). I realize many aspects of this are cultural, so I tried not to become irritated, though it was occasionally difficult. I had a lovely little Bangledeshi lady next to me who kept trying to speak to me in Bangla; I estimated she was about 50 years old, but in helping her fill out the passport paperwork discovered she was a mere three years older than myself. During the flight, she would intermittently grab my wrist (didn’t matter if I was sleeping, wrapped up in my blanket, engrossed in the inflight movie) to check the time on my watch: initially this was endearing, but mid-nap it became rather annoying (especially when it occurred what seemed like 20 times; I would be sleeping or watching TV and I’d feel this random clawing at my wrist... it was also apparently impossible for her to get anything out of her bag without elbowing me(hard!) in my left boob at least fifty times.... impressive given that she was shorter than I and very petite).
When we landed I was carried by a sea of Bengalis to customs and then to the baggage claim. As expected my 900 lb bag was amongst the last to appear. And similar to boarding the plane, all 400 people vied with several baggage carts to be RIGHT next to the conveyor belt. If they saw one of their bags coming around they would simply run up on the conveyor to the other side and grab it, rather than wait the 10 seconds for it to come around. The whole process took well over an hour and a half. During this time I met a young, English-speaking Bengali lady thought it was very amusing that I was there and who was clearly skeptical that I would survive the encounter. Which of course is exactly what I wanted to hear upon my arrival. In my head, I was like, “I’m from New York... I’ll show you.” And then on the walk to the bus I almost got pickpocketed: we were walking through the street and I was carrying my two carry-ons, trying to avoid being runover (by cars, buses, rickshaws, you name it) and avoiding the persistent stares, when a little girl of about 6 literally latched on to my pink backpack. I (again literally) could not shake her; I was in the process of bringing said backpack to the front (with her attached, I guess), when I noted that her hand was already rummaging around in the lower pocket. Nothing was lost as the entire crowd quickly starting yelling at her.
Managed to make it to the bus in one piece and quite fortuitously, it was just leaving (ie no waiting in the crowd for me). The air conditioning was savory, the child intermittently retching into a plastic bag (which was then flung out the window and shattered on the pavement) in front of me not so much. Despite the heat, my desperate thirst and overwhelming exhaustion there was no vomiting from my end.... yet.
Am about to embark on my first day of survey administration this morning. Am praying the sun goes in during our ~1 hour boat ride. Have I mentioned the heat is oppressive? OK, more on my lodgings (and rickshaw rides) later as well as my first day in the field.
(Also forgive my my misspellings and any format issues. The internet won't let me preview anything so I have no idea what it looks like. Will try to post pictures as well, though this may also be limited by internet capabilities).
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
18 hours in Dubai...
So being sleep deprived on a regular basis has its advantages: my 12+ hour flight to the UAE flew by quickly. I napped, ate, watched a movie and repeated until we landed. Granted I am nearly certain that every child on the flight was within a 2 row radius, but the provided headphones sufficed to block out (mostly) screams, cries, etc.
My last month at the hospital was rather busy, so I conveniently didn’t notice that I had an 18 hour lay-over in Dubai until the week prior to my departure. And since that week was typically painful, I obviously had plenty of time to plan. Thus, I literally walked off the plane, went to the information booth and was like WHAT DO I DO? Wound up booking a hotel (they kept talking free breakfast and I kept thinking thanks, but my next flight leaves at 2 AM) and then arranging for a bus tour of the city. Bus was a generous word, as it wound up being an SUV, containing me, our tour guide, an Irish couple and a gentleman from Pakistan (who was convinced I was the Irish couple’s daughter for like the WHOLE trip, even though my New Yawk accent was fully evident). Honestly not that much to report. Basically the whole of the city springs randomly from the desert.
Crazy to think that all of the building is a recent phenomenon, with entire conglomerates of buildings appearing within the past few decades.
Now keeping in mind I got a very (very) superficial view of the city, I was overall very unimpressed. It made me think of a classier Las Vegas – fun to see, maybe spend a few days and then move on. Granted you would need a day to do one of the desert Safaris and I would love to see the inside of the Burj Khalifa (tallest building in the world) and Burj Al Arab (the only 7 star hotel)... not to mention sample some of the reportedly delicious restaurants. As for the largest mall in the world, it overwhelmed me (despite my brief stay). I mean, it has taxis INSIDE to get you around. Which I guess is helpful when you get lost.
Disclaimer: These views may be slightly skewed through the eye(lids) of jet lag and being hot. And we know how I get when I get overheated. And tired. I actually fell asleep in the SUV/tour “bus” on our drive back. Took what will likely be my last hot shower (and succumbed to the pouf that will now be my hairstyle) and collapsed into bed. Now am biding the last few hours (and taking advantage of the internet) before I head back to the airport.
Burj Al Arab
Burj Khalifa
Dubai Mall
Dubai Mall
My last month at the hospital was rather busy, so I conveniently didn’t notice that I had an 18 hour lay-over in Dubai until the week prior to my departure. And since that week was typically painful, I obviously had plenty of time to plan. Thus, I literally walked off the plane, went to the information booth and was like WHAT DO I DO? Wound up booking a hotel (they kept talking free breakfast and I kept thinking thanks, but my next flight leaves at 2 AM) and then arranging for a bus tour of the city. Bus was a generous word, as it wound up being an SUV, containing me, our tour guide, an Irish couple and a gentleman from Pakistan (who was convinced I was the Irish couple’s daughter for like the WHOLE trip, even though my New Yawk accent was fully evident). Honestly not that much to report. Basically the whole of the city springs randomly from the desert.
Crazy to think that all of the building is a recent phenomenon, with entire conglomerates of buildings appearing within the past few decades.
Now keeping in mind I got a very (very) superficial view of the city, I was overall very unimpressed. It made me think of a classier Las Vegas – fun to see, maybe spend a few days and then move on. Granted you would need a day to do one of the desert Safaris and I would love to see the inside of the Burj Khalifa (tallest building in the world) and Burj Al Arab (the only 7 star hotel)... not to mention sample some of the reportedly delicious restaurants. As for the largest mall in the world, it overwhelmed me (despite my brief stay). I mean, it has taxis INSIDE to get you around. Which I guess is helpful when you get lost.
Disclaimer: These views may be slightly skewed through the eye(lids) of jet lag and being hot. And we know how I get when I get overheated. And tired. I actually fell asleep in the SUV/tour “bus” on our drive back. Took what will likely be my last hot shower (and succumbed to the pouf that will now be my hairstyle) and collapsed into bed. Now am biding the last few hours (and taking advantage of the internet) before I head back to the airport.
Burj Al Arab
Burj Khalifa
Dubai Mall
Dubai Mall
Saturday, September 22, 2012
Take two
Itssssssssss baaaaack. Over the past four years, the clueless third year medical student who ventured to Haiti (http://littlebirdinhaiti.blogspot.com/) has morphed into a moderately less clueless third year resident (when!? how!?) embarking on a new journey... this time to Bangladesh. As before, I am looking to promote women's health (through a study of contraceptive use/practices), and, as before, I speak not a word of the national language, Bengali (Bangla). Here's to a new set of adventures!
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