The holy month of Ramadan

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Well, I’ve survived my first week back in the Desh (barely). I would really like to say that things are going well, but I’m lonely and tired of being sticky. Last week I was so bored I actually went into BRAC just for some company and to enjoy the air conditioning! Things promise to be better next week though - I have meetings and interviews scheduled everyday. Last week I had my first research interview with my old boss. Then I came home all excited and ready to transcribe and proceeded to delete half of the interview by accident. Fingers crossed it goes better this week!

Am settling into routine as much as possible. Right now it is the holy month of Ramadan, my favourite time in Bangladesh. All of the offices close early (between 3:30-4:00) because everyone has been fasting all day and needs to get home to prepare for Iftar. Iftar is the fast-breaking at sunset. The streets of Dhaka are lined with Iftar stalls selling special Iftar food. Arif goes to his family’s club after work to oversee things, and then brings Iftar home. We wash our hands and put the food out, and then sit at the table and wait to hear the call to prayer. It is important to sit at the table looking at all the food because it tests your resolve that much more. I feel so bad because as we’re sitting there all I can think of is how hungry I am even though I’ve eaten all day and poor Arif hasn’t had anything since 4 am. Once we hear the call to prayer start to ring out across the city, we dig in!

Now, I’m not sure if this is a Muslim thing or a Bangladeshi thing (I think the later), but Iftar food is the spiciest, greasiest food I’ve ever had. Everything is fried. We have fried eggplant and fried onion bajhee, fired chicken, fried spring rolls, fried, fried, fried…. Then we finish it off with this really fattening soup called halim, which has been described as a means of ingesting spices without the inconvenience of food. I have never in my life had anything so spicy. I can handle about three spoonfuls before I think I might die. So, this Ramadan Arif’s goal is 30 before 30 (fasting all 30 days before he turns 30), and mine is to be able to eat a bowl of halim by the end of Ramadan. But this is my questions - how is it a good idea to break your fast with greasy fried and spicy food? That must be so hard on the stomach!

Needless to say, Bangladesh continues to be the nemesis of my weight-loss goals. But I do love Iftar. The traffic in Dhaka has become monumental, especially in the hours between work and Iftar as everyone is rushing home and tired and hungry (it is no coincidence that they have named this National Traffic Safety Awareness month and it is Ramadan). All you can hear is incessant honking and noise and the smog is enough to choke a horse. Then, as soon as the call to prayer is heard, the streets magically empty and the city falls quiet. Stores close, taxis and baby taxis stop driving, rickshaws stop ringing their bells. If you walk the streets you would think there had been a nuclear disaster and you were the last person on earth. I like to go out on the balcony and enjoy the quiet for a few minutes, and watch the giant bats swoop around the sky. This peace lasts about 15 minutes, and then the masses pour back out onto the streets and someone takes the mute button off and I go back in the house to hide.

Speaking of hiding - in the past three days I’ve watched every episode of the last season of Sex and the City and Lost. Thank god for pirated DVDs! Tonight we are having an Iftar party with this year’s AKFC interns whom I haven’t met yet, so that will hopefully save me from my escapist behaviour.

Have attached some pictures of the house. Sorry no interesting ones yet.

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