Thai edition - missing the smiles

 One of Dhaka's great advantages is its vicinity to other Asian countries. 

A couple of hours flight took us to Thailand's Hua Hin for the holidays two weeks ago. 

We had a little family reunion with 50 per cent of our descendants.

Thus, the observations are from Thailand. As usually, based on pure ignorance and highly personal experiences.

We stayed in the outskirts of Hua Hin, a royal beach resort. 

The city was full of tourists, just like us, enjoying the warm climate, the beaches and the delicious food. 

Our village, Khao Takieb, offered less alternatives and a quieter life, perfect after Dhaka's cacophony and craziness. 

Long walks in fresh air and in minimal clothing were balsam for a Dhaka body and soul.

One thing I wondered: the land of the smiles. 

Where were the smiles?

Many locals were indifferent, some even arrogant. 

I have great understanding for people whose income depend on filing tourists' dirty nails or massaging their pink flesh. I wouldn't smile either. 

But still, back in Dhaka this week I went to a local store and was drowned in personal service, jokes and laughter.

In Thailand it was wonderful see a more organized society than that in Bangladesh. 

A couple of days in Bangkok showed that it's possible to create a functional infrastructure even in a huge city. 

The skytrain system was effective and fast, the metro no worse.

The most memorable experience were the waterways. We took an commuter express  boat for people  coming to and from work from the northern outskirts of Bangkok. For a euro or two one moves very - really very - fast along the rivers. 


The boats are overcrowded and you have to be both fast and brave (I am none) getting on and offboard.  

The King is very important in Thailand. No more comments.

The last day of this year will end quietly in this household. The authorities have decided that people in the city have to be at home latest at 8 pm on New Year's Eve. 

Happy 2016!

Fragile

People usually associate Bangladesh with garment industry, cheap t-shirts, sweatshops, Rana Plaza, tragedy.

It is true, but business life in Bangladesh is much more versatile. One of the fast growing branches is the ceramics industry.

Last weekend one of the high positioned female diplomats here invited a bunch of women to a tour to a ceramics factory just outside Dhaka. 

Shinepukur's factory produces about 20 million pieces of ceramics and bone china annually. It's a huge heap of cups, plates and mugs. Beautiful things. You don't actually need them but you cannot get enough of them. 

The factory produces all the brands you and I used to have at home or at least we were dreaming of them. 

Later, we couldn't afford the products and the Western owners of the companies outsourced their production to Bangladesh. 

The prices came down a bit, the quality a little more, but we are buying again.

Now the Bangladeshi people have work, the employees in the Western countries are probably unemployed. We have a bad conscience. This is globalization, it hurts. 

The factory employs round 3000 people who work in two shifts from 6 am to 2 pm and from 2 pm to 10 pm. 

Naturally, for very little money, at best 4000 taka (50 euro) per month. 

The conditions were not wonderful but not totally awful either - otherwise the company wouldn't give these tours. 

Compared with Western standards many things are done manually and without visible safety measures. 

Safety at work is generally not a big issue here. 

Asphalt making is so dangerous and old-fashioned that even cavemen would look like astronauts. The workers melt stones to asphalt on fire, as fuel they use pieces of surplus clothes. Everything is done by muscle power.

Finishing a high rise building's facade can be done by two men sitting on a bamboo ladder. They were chatting, I was sweating.

Finally: Facebook was unblocked today.

Handmade in Bangladesh

"Madame wants the bread sliced?", the man behind the bakery's counter asked.

"Yes, please", I was gladly surprised since I hadn't seen a slicing machine in Dhaka so far.

Well,  I didn't this time either. In came a young man who took a knife and started slicing my bread. 

Most things are very handmade in Bangladesh.

Preparing food by hand is one thing, eating it with hands is another. 

I know, there are many countries where people eat with their hands. Bangladesh happens to be my first encounter with this phenomenon. 

Mixing rice and sauce with fingers to a mouthful is an art far beyond my abilities. Eating with a hand is not a privilege of the poor people, I have seen well manicured, diamond ringed fingers in the same activity. The most extreme experience was a dinner where a totally burkha covered woman ate with her hand, lifting the veil for every bite. And didn't make a mess.

Restaurants appealing to more Western clientele don't forbid eating with fingers but they try to discourage it. They have signs asking the customers to "enjoy your food with the utensils provided by us".

Dishwashers are not so common. Rather, there is house help washing up a heap of dishes several times a day, every day. 

Poor people wash their clothes by hand but I was shocked when I read in the newspaper that local hospitals in Dhaka get their laundry washed in the Buriganga River. The water quality in the river is mildly said suspicious and the bed linen will certainly not become very sterile.

Garbage recirculation is also done manually. Young boys (they are usually young boys) hang over their garbage vans on wheels, sort out everything by bare hands. Extremely dirty, hard and dangerous work.

Bangladeshi hands are also able create the most beautiful handicrafts and art work. Needle, thread, colors and skills create wonderful pictures, textiles, design utensils. I have become totally addicted to local painters' work. Visual arts actually deserve a separate posting.

Otherwise. We are still "without" Facebook. Officially. The local newspaper revealed that even the Government uses VPN services and thus disregard their own Facebook ban. Many ministers and high officials have been posting actively during the ban, now in its third week.

It is also winter time, they say. The temperature is below 30 C (86 F) and local people wear jackets, hats and scarves.