"He no come to office yesterday?"

Nine months down in Bangladesh, time for a little sum-up.

Best: 

Temporary job.

I am inifinitely grateful for a six months' position until the end of August. Being busy has given a new, wonderful dimension to everyday life here. An air-conditioned office, meaningful work and a very modest salary are a true blessing.

Worst: 

Missing home.

Especially during high holidays I really wonder what I'm doing here on the other side of the planet where almost everything is different from my traditions and values. Why am I not taking care  of and sharing joys and sorrows with my family and close friends at home. 

Frightening:

Recent thunderstorms have been crazy. Lightning has killed more than 80 people this year. 

Saddening:

Local election violence. More than hundred have been killed in election clashes.

Worsening security situation, terror, increasing intolerance. Escalating political violence.

Dangerous:

Police is supposed to get harder on people who drive on the wrong side of the road. Dhaka's overcrowded roads and streets are an open invitation for all kinds of creative and dangerous solutions in traffic. More than 1100 people have been killed in traffic from January to April.

Embarrassing:

Still no knowledge of Bangla.

At the same time Bangla-English has become far too attractive to make oneself easily understood. I was rather shocked when I heard myself asking: "He no come to office yesterday?"

Still not ready for Wimbledon. How can it be so difficult to hit a ball over a low net? Fortunately, my husband now shares the humiliation of under performing with me.

Irritating:

Our apartment - so old and worn that even the lizards have arithritis and grey beard. Only cold water available.

Dhaka is full of new apartments, one of them will hopefully be our new home soon. 

Charming:

A horizontal, swinging head movement of the local people. I don't know what it means or how they do it (I have practiced it for hours in front of the mirror - with no luck), but  I simply love it.

Touching:

The resilience of the ordinary people. Most people work so hard, they earn so little but they are so kind. 

Motivating:

Yoga, zumba, bokwa, pilates, whatever. I bring my decaying old body and enjoy. There is not much else to do in Dhaka so sweating in a small room with strangers is one of the best things I know.

The pictures this time are cellphone shots. Dhaka's streets are like huge potato fields these days. The sewage renovations are supposed to be ready soon.  Bangla soon.

I stopped eating fish when I understood where the local fish comes from. 

The essence of terror

Just as Bangladesh started to feel secure again, we are experiencing a new and bloody wave of terror here.

Last fall foreigners were  the target of the terrorists. Now liberal Bangladeshis are the prey.

Last week three people were killed because one of them loved music (he was a professor), the other two worked for human rights (they were gay). 

Yesterday a Hindu taylor was killed for derogatory Muslim comments four years ago.

All recent killings and numerous previous ones were conducted by assailants cutting their victims' necks with a machete. 

Extremely brutal and cruel. 

After the attacks, the killers just disappear in the busy streets or nobody sees them in the empty streets.

Extremely strange and scary. The essence of terror.

I talked to a local person who is really afraid.  This person represents many of the Bengalis I know and like: they are liberal, have traveled widely, educated, are not extremely religious.

My acquaintance is now afraid of walking in the streets, has stopped posting on Facebook and beefs up security measures at home and at work.

I have a feeling that in Dhaka's streets there are more and more women totally or almost totally covered. A burkha could save my acquaintance's life but kill her soul.