Miscellaneous Letters

Bangladesh: an education.

2010-01-30T18:57:00.008Z

After a gruelling two and a half days travelling we finally made it to the city of Chittagong about 9am. Arriving at the airport was a similar experience to my time in Ghana. The airport itself was quiet and modern but just outside the doors were throngs of people milling around, and upon exiting we were immediately accosted by a taxi driver. We thought our cousin Sonia would be there to meet us but after looking around with no luck we decided to grab a taxi. As the car plummeted down the road that ran alongside the docks my first impressions of Bangladesh were of a rapidly industrialising nation, with numerous factories and businesses on one side, and hoards of ships of all shapes and sizes that littered the Karnaphuli River on the other. We soon arrived at the Ferry ghat were we took a small ferry across the river to district of Diang. The ferry was more of an old motorboat that had seen better days, access to which was down a concrete pier and involved climbing some dubious looking ladders which had every chance of slipping off and sending you into the river bed. Upon entering the boat the men usually sat along the outside edge and the women in the lower space in the middle. I sat precariously on the side and took a gulp as I looked into the water, a small knock to the boat and I'd over the edge; a quick glance to the life ring neither helped as the other half of it seemed to have been misplaced. I turned to the person next to me and nearly let go as their face was less than a nose away, their eyes exploring me. It was then that I noticed all eyes were either on my Dad or on me, with no ounce of embarrassment if you caught anyone staring. We were something of an interest here and this was something I would have to get used to very quickly.

After the boat we took a rickshaw for our bags and walked to our Uncle's house. We are very fortunate in the fact that we can truly experience Bangladeshi lifestyle in the home of my Uncle, with his Bangladeshi wife and their daughter. The road to their house soon turned into sandy soil where various turnings, gate and entrances hid themselves in the foliage bordering the route. One of which was a small blue gate which led to a courtyard that jutted from the house. The house itself was a concoction of mainly concrete and metal, while a little austere looking, it felt open and inviting. The house was a creation which spanned many years with rooms being added when needed, or when money could be spared. After a welcoming and bit of tea I quickly retired to my bedroom despite it only being noon.

I awoke the next day to the sound of shouting and singing, my head swimming groggily, the call to prayer of the local Mosque would soon become common place in my soundscape of Bangladesh, along with the cockerel, ducks, cows, toads, and dare I say it; rats. Agenda for the day was to go visiting some of my extended family, I envisaged taking a rickshaw or a taxi cab to another village encompassing a long journey past field and fields, but we merely walked ten metres next door down a small path. It shocked me to find out that most of the family lived within walking distance of each other, either in the same village or the one nearby. This was a stark contrast to my family which is fractured and scattered across the globe, requiring a train or even multiple plane flights to visit!

I soon discovered the further delicacies of Bangladesh transport with a trip to Chittagong centre. My auntie and I walked to the next collection of shops where we took a rickshaw across the hay strewn dirt tracks until we arrived at the main road. From here we were to take a CNG, which in theory is a mini three-wheel taxi, but in reality is more like a scooter chopped in half with a metal box welded onto the back. Off we screeched into the chaos of traffic. Keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times. The CNG soon squeezed in and out of the rickshaws on the left, just before narrowly missing a head on collision with a bus, after slowing down to give way to a bike and soon after speeding up to overtake another two CNG's leaving us wide open on the other side of the road. The concept was simple. Accelerate as fast as you can until you reach the vehicle/object/person in front and then find anyway you can to overtake it. Repeat until destination. I have to admit though, it was a little exhilarating, you simply never knew if you'd make it to your destination or not! I thought how excellent these contraptions would be for cities in Britain as a cheaper alternative to taxis, then I reminded myself why they wouldn't get past health and safety. They didn't have doors, let alone seat belts.

Chittagong itself is an amalgamation of building after building, with what seems to have no concept of town planning in mind. Every sense was duly teased, taunted and tickled. No space was left unused for everyone had something to sell but not many had money to buy. The market we arrived at was an urban jungle of rows and corridors of bazaar after bazaar. There were shops for all manner of things, from coconuts to computers, here you could buy it all. In theory it was a much bigger, much less organised, superstore. Even buying was a new experience here as nothing came priced. Each item had to be discussed, haggled, discussed again, bartered and then reluctantly agreed upon by either party. This was great because you could cajole the shopkeeper into giving you a bargain, but no longer had an hour gone by and you only had two or three items to show for your labour.

The next day, I came upon somewhat of a predicament. I was sitting outside in the courtyard when I saw Alex, my cousin, throw a sweet wrapper into the bushes. I wanted to reprimand him for littering and teach him the importance of not only a clean environment but a healthy one. Then it struck me that that wasn't possible here. They had not rubbish collection not to mention recycling, for even if he had put the wrapper in the bin, the contents of the bin would only be thrown out into the garden anyway. This made me think about all the rubbish I would create over my time here and how I thought I would do a noble thing and take as much of it back with me to reduce the mess here. But the problem was the same. It would go in the bin only to be thrown into a landfill. The only difference being that it was out of site out of mind.

Generosity was a quality which everyone I met seemed to have in unlimited quantity. Everywhere I went, those who had nothing gave the most. A simple cup of tea meant pumping the water and lighting up the choola, a small earthen stove, to heat the water. Cakes and biscuits and rice snacks appeared from nowhere. Even those more affluent would never relent in their kindness to offer a lift here or there, or pick up a café bill or surprise you with little gifts. I remember stopping to have a coffee while visiting the train station, where we met a friend of a friend of a friend who after a couple of minutes chat, paid for not only his coffee but ours as well. It was an incredibly humbling experience.

Electricity cuts were a regular occurrence, almost like clockwork. The cuts would interrupt being able to make food, being able to read or watch the TV. They would come at the most inconvenient time when using the toilet and plunge you into a thick darkness with only the squeak of a rat to alert you that you're not alone. So from the very first night I was there, I soon learnt that instead of carrying my phone around with me all day, it would be a torch.

After visiting many more residents of Bangladesh I realised the way of life at my uncles was rather comfortable. Sure there was water to pump each day, chickens to feed, clothes to wash, rice to dry and work to be done, but at least we got to sleep in separate beds, had gas when the electricity went and extra blankets to keep us warm. For there were those with so little, so close by. No more than 20 meters from the house, were a small collection of bamboo huts, one of which housed a family of five in a single room. To eat, sleep, wash and basically live, all within the confines of a small area. They all shared a single wooden bed with no mattress, and a lonely lightbulb cast a dim glow into the room. Nevertheless no more than 3 metres outside stood a brick house, with clean water, electricity, windows and a TV.

I was not naïve about the world before coming on this journey, but I soon realised how easy it is to forget about what we do not see; like the rubbish that is chucked into the bin, like the fumes from our factories and the gap between the rich and the poor. The hardship and injustice of our economic world was so close it could be tasted. I felt incredibly indifferent and overwhelmingly confused about my experience. I knew that there are the poor and the rich, there are the sick and the healthy, the the starving and the fed. I was confused about how I could not rectify or amend or improve it and no amount of money or labour that I could give could make a huge difference. I didn't know whether to feel guilty or ashamed of the life I led. I still don't. However, they may be poor in material items, but they are rich in comparison to the social fractures and isolation of the developed world.

While life in Bangladesh is simpler with less distractions, it is also harder; and the hardest thing for me was to admit that I couldn't live without running water, heating, my phone, my laptop and my numerous other possesions. Could you?

"It's a strange world where the least important thing is doing well and the most important is just holding on."

Hiroshima

2009-05-05T23:26:00.010+01:00

Bleary eyed after another early start we stumbled out of the tram into the Memorial Peace Park that remains witness to the event of 6th August 1945, 8:15am. The first sight that we came upon was The A-Bomb Dome. It used to be the former Industrial Promotion Hall. The large part of the frame of the building remained after the blast due it’s structure and material, since then the skeleton of the dome has been restored to create an idea of what it once looked like. The building now stands as one of the many reminders of the blast and is in the UNESCO World heritage list.

Walking around to the back of the dome we were soon approached by a free tour guide. He is one of many free tour guides that come to the park everyday to tell people their story, to make sure that this doesn’t happen again. His mother was pregnant with him at the time of the blast but was fortunate to be outside of the main blast radius. However she was affected by the residual fall out. With him, he had many photographs both personal and archival and took us to see a few memorials outside the park. One of which were some granite gravestones that were smooth and polished on the outside but all the surfaces on top where rough and hewn where the bomb had melted the crystals. Incredibly, his mother was to celebrate her 91st birthday that very next day. The fact that he brought the bombing onto a very personal level made it all the more real. Sometimes it can be unfathomable to think that thousands of people disappeared in the blink of an eye.

By this time it was lunch and after a bit of food the sombre tone that had fell upon the group started to shift a little. Looking around there were many other tourists and school children and scores of wildlife. It was hard to think of this place as desolate field. After lunch we strolled through the park taking in the memorials. The children’s memorial is dedicated to all the children who died and in particular, Sadako Sasaki, who was affected by the fallout. Folklore has it that is someone folds a thousand paper cranes they will be granted a wish. Unfortunately Sadako did not finish her cranes but today many people around the world send in cranes to be displayed near the memorial.

Above is a photo of the flame which will continue to burn until the world is rid of nuclear weapons. Call me cynical but I don’t think that will ever go out. Finally we made it to the main museum where it went into great detail about the bombing, how it was made, the moments leading up to it and how everything had changed after it. What surprised me most was that the Japanese don’t hate Americans and neither to they hold any bitterness towards them, they just want to make sure that nuclear weapons will never be used again.

Fix the problem not the blame.

The Big Capital 'T'

2009-05-01T00:44:00.009+01:00

My eyelids creaked open like metal shutters, scratching my corneas with the texture of sandpaper. I sauntered down to reception where we were still locked in. Hmm, no coffee at 4am except for the cold cans of it in the vending machine. Iced coffee and teas is a big thing here. My caffeine cravings started to awake so I dared to try the coffee aptly named "THE BLACK". It really is exactly what is says on the can. After a few grimaces and body tremors it goes down quite well.

Tokyo is the place most people associate with Japan. The bustling city streets, skyscrapers and the multitude of lights. To get there from Osaka it is three hours train ride... so getting up at 4 was essential. We were on the Shinkansen again like a giant sperm racing across Japan. The train ride soon passed and we arrived in another concrete jungle. We had an idea of where to go thanks to another traveller from the hotel. He pointed us in the direction of a shopping district called Shibuya so off we headed. Taking yet another train we came out on the world's busiest pedestrian crossing in the world with an estimated 2.4 million people crossing it every day!

The shopping here was very expensive with lots of department stores and specialist shops. So instead of helping the economy buying overpriced clothing and things-I-think-I-want-but-actually-don't I went and sat in a coffee shop overlooking the intersection. After snapping a few shots we were politely asked not too... anyone would think we were tourists.

After lunch we walked to the Sony Centre to check out its latest and greatest offerings. There was some advanced technology but at some very advanced prices. Still I have picked out my next laptop which is a snip at £900. After drooling over the technology we hopped on another train to a market in the Ueno district. This time there was a lot more things in everyone's price range. After half an hour looking though all I bought was some juicy looking (and tasting) melon for 70p.

That pretty much filled up our day in Tokyo, but I would love to come back someday and really explore all this city alone has to offer. It's a shame it took so long to get there. On the way back at the station we saw something peculiar. The Shinkansen was being cleaned by a team of pink ninjas. On closer inspection they were women who removed all the headrest covers replaced them, wiped the armrests and seats and cleaned the floor all in time for people to board the train and for it to leave exactly on time. The Japanese think of everything... everything.

This is a photo of the Nozomi Shinkansen, the fastest train they have. Clearly it's a plane in disguise. For more on the Shinkansen click here.

Himeji-jo

2009-04-24T18:22:00.008+01:00

The Bullet Train

So we were told that we must go to Himeji Castle before we leave Japan as it's much better than Osaka Castle; and they were not wrong. We flew there on the Shinkansen. When I use the word 'flew' I am not kidding. The train looks like a plane from the front, inside it's like a small plane only with more leg room and it is as quiet as a plane too.

Inside there are two seats running down one side of the carriage and three down the other, also they recline! We found out that you can flip the seats 180 using a little lever. They do this so at the end of the line they flip all the seats round to face the direction of travel. Also it creates plenty of leg room.

Exiting the station a huge boulevard stretched before us like a drive way to the castle that lay before us atop a huge hill. From the sation it didn't look that big whilst we were surround by the lurking shadows of other high rises, but this was an understatement. We entered the 'keep' of the castle by crossing over the outer moat into what was a huge field bordered with cherry blossom. Surrounding the field were more gardens. The white wash of the castle made it stand out brilliantly from the blue azure background.

Inside the castle there are many little nooks and craneys where titbits of history were sprinkled salaciously. The castle itself is occupied with 7 floors all of which are in their original condition. Most of them stand open and empty allowing the visitors to fill the space with their imagination of Samauri fortifying the windows. I like that it has been left this way in its original condition as its gives a better idea of how the castle was operated. The fact that I snook in for under 15 made it all the more worthwhile.

Big Buddha...Seriously Big Buddha

2009-04-13T01:23:00.029+01:00

Another cultural day today! We departed for Nara park but got on the wrong train but this being the Japan rail system there was another train in no time. Nara park is home to three major temples and deer, lots of deer. They are very tame deer, probably because of the tourists. I'm glad we don't look like tourists with our maps and pharse books. We picnic-ed in a park then set off for Todaiji temple.

The Todaiji is currently the biggest wooden structure in the world when encompassing all of the building. But wait, it used to be a third bigger! Inside there in only room for one thing. A giant bronze Buddha statue. There is barely enough room for the hundreds of tourists all clamouring for a photo of it. We didn't do or see much today but what we had seen was very impressive. Also the tame deer were a bonus.

Geisha Girls

2009-04-13T01:18:00.013+01:00

Over the past couple of days we have met a dew interesting people through the hotel lobby. One of which is a man called Alan. He's British born, lived most of his life in Japan but now lives in Australia with his Japanese wife. He's had several businesses in the past one of which was conducting tours in Japan. How very fortunate. He lost most of his businesses in the Kobe earthquake and is keen to start them up again. He has been so fascinated by what we are doing, in terms of coming to a country we've never been to before, bringing lots of kids with us and hardly speaking the language. In his admiration he offered to show us around Kyoto for the day.

We took a train to Kyoto where there is a Shinto temple (Shinto and Buddhism are the main religions of Japan). Also they have a lot of Maiko training houses, which are Geisha in training. The Geisha's that we saw were not strikingly beautiful but, when dressed up in their full outfit, they exude a certain curiosity. Somewhat like beautiful fragile dolls.

Kyoto itself was much the same as Osaka, busy, urban and compact. It was a short walk to the start of the temple, which could be seen at the end of the street looming high on the mountain. A short walk brought us to a temple in a courtyard where a traditional Shinto wedding was taking place. It was strange for it to be taking place there as there were hundred of tourists clamouring round for a photo. I tried to rise above it but snapped away instead. But if you have enough money you'll want to flaunt it with a public wedding.

We continued up the mountain finding small alleys abundant with shops selling all sorts, mainly tourist tat. From the top of the hillside, their were views over all of Kyoto, once again it was strange to be surrounded by centuries of history yet looking at the urban jungle below. The temple was a few structures with Shinto shrines inside. There are also lots of pieces of paper tied to trees and posts, which are fortunes that people have bought. If you don't like it you tie it to something. The walk around it and the setting was very picturesque. Whenever the Maiko appeared they would soon be followed and hounded by cameras. I saw one of them cheekily checking her mobile phone. Probably checking her Facebook, even the Maiko can't resist.

The temple gave a good idea of how the Samurai and monks lived back then; high, powerful and dominant on the hillside. Glorious.

Cherry Blossom

2009-04-10T15:11:00.012+01:00

One of the main attractions in Osaka is the castle located in the main park. We had been there yesterday so it was a breeze finding our way back to it. By the time we arrived it was already lunch and I tucked down into it. I never seem to have enough food for me throughout the day.

After lolling on the grass for an hour we made a move for the castle. The castle is nothing at all like the architypal English castle, so it seems strange to call it a castle. It looks more like a glorified Japanese temple, and much more decorative than our castles. The castle isself is located on an island surrounded by a moat, within another island surround by a moat...so it's fairly foritfied. Inside the castle it has been renovated and is museum displaying artifacts and generally explaing the history of it and the area. I would have preffered to see it as it was 400 years ago.

The view from the top is the highlight and it is very striking to see such an ancient structure surrounded by the metropolis of buildings. It seems that much of Japan is like that, they seem to to retain their most sacred history and build around and indeed right up to it to make the best use of space.

After sauntering around the castle all day we shaded ourselves under a cherry tree grove. Walking round we could see many a buisness company coming to the park and setting up for what looked like an outdoor dinner. They had beer, sushi, rice and noodles and everything else one needs. Some had even set up lanterns, strung up in the trees. I could just imagine serious business deals taking place under the cherry blossom in the fading light. I think that's where all important decisions should be made. What better surroundings could one have?

Traditional Culture

2009-04-10T15:06:00.011+01:00

Today we travelled to the Dawn Centre to take part in a Taiko Drumming workshop. We asked the man at our hotel desk where the subway station was and all he could infer to us was "3". 3? 3 steps, blocks, miles? Ah, maybe three roads down. After getting to the third road and realising we were no nearer to a station we backtracked to the hotel, where we saw no more than ten metres from our hotel, subway entrance number 3.

Our next stumbling block was to buy tickets for everyone. After a long and incomprehensible conversation with the guard there, he pointed us in the direction of the machines. Complete with English translation.

The Taiko drumming is part of the Japanese culture that originated in the temples and shrines. The two players were very professional and played with precision and ease. We played with irregularity and incompetence. The beats and rhythm that they use are very different to Western styles and too a while getting used to. Throughout the two hour workshop we managed to learn a short tune and even make it sound somewhat like the actual beat.

After the workshop we all walked to Osaka Castle Park with the translators from the workshop. Funnily one of them lived in Norwich for 6 months and had even visited the university where I go! It really is a small world. We dined looking out over the castle under the cherry blossom, something about being outside really does make food taste better.

From the park we travelled a short way to a traditional Noh theatre, the traditional style of theatre in Japan. It involves a lot of singing/chanting, fan work and masks. The theatre is breathtaking when you walk in and is entirely not what you expect to find. I was very fortunate, or so I was told, to have the opportunity to be dressed as a Geisha. The players kitted me out in the very extravagant robes and even had a wig made from horse hair. All that was needed was a mask to complete the piece and voila, I looked like a 20 year old Geisha.

We returned to the park where we attracted some local girls and we all got talking. After half an hour of sharing stories and asking questions, the girls left. They soon returned though, bearing gifts of sweets which cost £14. We found out later that it was there way of giving a part of their culture to us, and in return we gave them some English money which they cooed over in awe.

House of the Rising Sun

2009-04-08T13:50:00.002+01:00

I awoke from a deep sleep, through which I had managed to avoid being woken by screaming girls, cars honking and toilets flushing. I wish I could say the same for my travelling partners but they all arrived to breakfast red eyed with bags the size of their suitcases. Today was our orientation day of going out into the concrete jungle.

We tentatively explored the streets of Osaka to test the water. There were a few things that were immediately different to me. There is an incredible amount of vending machines on the streets, one every 5 mins in case you needed a break from all the walking. Another difference you see immediately is the language, there are incredible splashes of colour that jump out of the buildings and the characters of the language look like art themselves. The neighbourhood we are in has a small population of homeless that line the streets, who I found out, sweep the streets as a way of giving back the community.

For lunch we decided to brave a local haunt. The most challening part of that is that none of the staff spoke English except for the chef...and he needed to cook. We some how managed to piece together what we would like and the food came quick and tasty. We soon filled up though and all developed food babies. There wasn't much that we didn't like although the food was quite different. There was a bit of light entertainment throughout the meal from a local drunk man who kept trying to offer one of us money. Hmm, I'm sure he was just trying to be friendly.

Japan itself is very similar in to the Western world in terms of ameneties, i.e. buildings, gadgets, hi-speed internet. The main differences are the language and the respect and values inherent in the culture, which is sadly something we have lost in England.

West meets East

2009-04-08T01:00:00.010+01:00

So I have started this intrepid trip with 27 sleepless hours under my belt and a 13 hour gruelling plane ride in economy with my knees tucked up by my ears.

Leaving the house I got that sinking feeling that I'd forgotten something but soon realised that it was probably because I skipped breakfast. Getting to London was a breeze and the plane ride to Dubai went without a hitch. I finally succumbed to sleep on the plane where my fellow travellers proceed to take photos of me and my drool.

Flying with Emirates was a big change from flying with Ryanair. After sitting down I was handed hot towels by the flawless air hostess who kindly called me sir. Complimentary drinks soon followed by menus describing the three course meal to be served later. I soon forgot we were in economy and kicked back my chair and sipped my wine.

Our plane landed in Dubai around 1am so there was nothing to see but sprawling mass of lights. The aiport itself was in true Dubai style: big, expensive and impressive. The second flight was much of the same however I was cautious of photo taking so I keep my eyes propped open with copious amounts of free coffee. The best part of this flight was the airport, which was situated in the middle of the sea on an artificial island; I was a little disconcerted that when we landed I could only see sea on either side me. Did I fall asleep and miss the plane crash?

From there to Osaka it was a only 45 min train ride. Hah and you thought the journey was over! So did I. My caffeine crash soon ensued where I kept drifting in and out of consciousness and kept jerking awake. The Japanese people either side of me were soon to disperse from my fits. There wasn't much time to stop and stare at the city as all our efforts were on finding the hotel. Once it was found, my nosy side kicked in and I had to explore everything, especially the toilets! Yes there are two types of toilets, squatters and state-of-the-art-can-paint-your-toenails-and-brush-your-teeth all from the comfort of one seat. Maybe not, but they do come with heated seats and a bidet function, which yes, I was brave enough to try out. A strange feeling but a hell of a lot easier.