Blah blah blah

"Torko" is fun - 95% of the time it is not. "Torko" basically is a bengali habit that you mostly have to deal with, when you are out shopping. Why? Because it is all about the money!

To understand this, I have to explain "Torko" to you. "Torko" is the unnecessary discussion, a waste of time. For example, I went to buy a dress shirt for work. It fit perfectly, except that my hands wouldn't fit without unbuttoning the sleeves. What was the salesman's comment? They will stretch after I wash the shirt. And what would have been the comment if everything was too loose? Right – that they will shrink after washing it and therefore will fit perfectly anyhow.

“Torko” can be annoying, like arguing over and over, when you know you are right; when you have bought something and go to buy it again and the price all of a sudden has risen. And then the salesman explains to you, that the price has always been that high, that you are wrong and maybe even laughs at you. “This stupid boy really thinks that people sell this for 150 Taka, haha. Come on, it’s 210 Taka. Everybody knows it!”

And “Torko” can be annoying when dealing with Rickshaws. I at least take the Rickshaw once a day, from Gulshan-1 to Gulshan-2 through residential area. In the morning and in the evenings, during rush hour, prices all of a sudden rise. Not because there is more traffic, because people need to go to office and back home quickly. So then of course the least Rickshaw Wallahs are willing to go for the regular price.

But “Torko” can be fun – 5% of the time. I went to buy a bag and a backpack the other day. Mostly, when you have a store specialized on selling bags, you have at least three of four more around it. So competition is high. I checked every store for the price of the things I liked and found out the lowest prices. Then this one salesman wanted to sell me his bags desperately and offered the lowest price, like the others. We argued, although I knew no one else was willing to go lower – “Torko”. I paid him 5 Taka less, which is only five cents, but the arguing and reaching that agreement was fun, when the total charge was 15.500 Taka. At least I can enjoy “Torko” every now and then...

Fun Fact: Bangladeshis like "Torko".

look/dekho 003

Kids waiting at the airport, waiting on the world to change!

Hear ye!

Apparentley I am the chief guest at a school summerfest in Badda this Friday and am supposed to tell the children something about staying in school and learning. More infos soon. If you want to come, all details are listed on the invitation.

Who can find my name? Look carefully.

From the heart

There are many things I hate, but there are more things I love. I love Mango juice. I love the stories my grandmother tells. I love the taste of warm fresh milk with a little sugar. I love the laughter of my little cousins. I love the morning cold when waking up on the countryside. I love the feeling of success when mosquitoes get in touch with my electric bat. I love hanging out with my cousins, when we make fun of each other. I love the love I am given. I love the glow on the face of street kids, when taking pictures of them. I love cracking jokes while being stuck in traffic. I love paying 15 instead of 20 Taka for a Rickshaw ride. I love rice with vegetable bhaji and daal. I love the clear night sky, stars and glow worms. I love that I am able to call any umfamiliar person uncle, aunty, brother or sister. I love hanging out on rooftops. I love nonsense conversations on the bus. I love 30 Cent haircuts. I love fresh food. I love people not caring what brand their clothes are. I love lying on a wooden boat in between rice fields. I love being able to swear in Bangla. I love telling people, when they ask me whether I am from England, that I am from London. I love talking on the phone with my family in Germany. I love to bargain. I love to shower after a long bus ride. I love when the sun turns red over the green fields. I love being in a Bangladeshi sweetmeat and not being able to decide what items to pick. I love seeing a sleeping baby in the arms of its mother. I love going back to Hamburg.

Yes, I do

I haven’t been to many Bangladeshi weddings yet, my guess is two or three “original ones”. During my stay here, my cousin from Comilla got married a month ago, in March. I’ve got lots of cousins and she is the youngest of all female cousins. The whole family comes together on these special occasions.

There was a three day weekend in March, when the wedding took place. A Bangladeshi wedding usually takes four days or more, depends on how much you want to celebrate. I attended three days. After work, I met with my uncle, and we took the bus to Comilla. It was quite comfortable, since tickets were only sold according to seats and the seats and the space were sufficient. It took us a little more than two hours. Not much, but still ridiculous when the distance is supposed to be less than 100 km.

When we arrived, everything was decorated. The whole walkway outside was covered in neon green lights. A gate with colorful cloth was made at the entrance to symbolize, that there’s a wedding.

The day I arrived in Comilla was the “gaye holud” of my cousin. The two rituals performed before the actual wedding are the “gaye holud” of the bride and the groom. Before the wedding, bride and groom stay at their own houses separately. The “gaye holud” can be compared to “henna evenings” in Turkish weddings. It is a festivity to prepare for the actual day, decorating the bride’s hands and feet with henna, and the guests apply a turmeric paste, “holud”, to the bride’s face. This is supposed to soften her skin and give it a healthy color. The groom’s family arrives with gifts and the whole wedding outfit. The groom’s “gaye holud” is the same, except for the henna tattoos ;).

The wedding itself takes place on the next day at the bride’s house on invitation of the bride’s family. The groom arrives and first is prevented entrance. This is a kind of game for the younger family members, who let the groom enter after getting a small allowance. So there is a huge discussion back and forth of the two parties about the amount. It is quite fun to watch and my nieces and nephews were enjoying it.

The whole wedding takes place after the festivity – mainly after eating (usually lunch). So basically when you attend a wedding and have eaten, you can leave, before the couple actually got married.

If you’ve ever watched bollywood movies, you know that the bride has to look really sad, because she is leaving her “home” behind to join a new family. I was taking lots of pictures and giving my cousin a really hard time. She was trying to look all sad and when I was making fun, she had to laugh. Then I cracked more jokes and told her that she is not supposed to laugh but that I’m seeing her smile, so she had to laugh even harder.

After the wedding, the formal part is over. The following day is the invitation of the groom, since the bride’s side, us, arranged the wedding festivities. The day after, we were invited at the groom’s house, which was a lot more relaxing.

I had a great time. Basically my male cousins and I hung out all the time together. We are a crew of 5 to 9 guys when we get together, all around the same age and constantly making fun of each other. On the way back from the groom’s house, our microbus wouldn’t start. So we sent everyone home with the other cars, got some drinks, listened to music and hung out in the night on the back of a pickup truck that came to fix the microbus. We got home an hour later. And a little later that night I met someone, who is somehow connected to my past, before I was born. But I’ll save that beautiful story for later.

Bus fare from Dhaka to Comilla (or the other way): 110 Taka.



"Tina's Holud Evening"





Cake, that's what's up!



Preparing for "Gaye Holud"



The Gate



Wedding day

The groom is arriving

"Hello", eat, leave

Left Foot First

Well, it’s been a while, that I have started my internship at Gulshan-2. Gulshan basically is an area where most businesses are settled, like Siemens, Unilever or Banglalink. Banglalink is one of the biggest mobile phone operators in Bangladesh and one of the top 20 players worldwide. And the Gulshan area is the diplomatic zone of Dhaka, that’s why I frequently pass the American, Korean and Dutch Embassies.

My uncle works for Banglalink and gives me a ride each morning to work. His office is at Gulshan-1 and I take the Rickshaw from there to Gulshan-2. It is quite relaxing to have these 10 minutes for myself through this quiet and quite wealthy neighborhood, where there is little traffic.

The ride after work is a little more exhausting. Taking the Rickshaw home during rush hour is not a good idea. It’s more comfortable than a bus or CNG but just not safe, since you can easily be trapped between busses or the tire can be hooked on a bus and you’re dragged along the way. [A free ride, woohoow!]

At times I get a ride back home with my uncle but basically I take the small local bus. Do you remember that picture of a pickup truck with around 45 people sitting on it? Well, it’s not like that in Bangladesh... but it gets close. Still it’s safer to take the bus. You might sweat a little bit more, since we have crossed the 30° C already, but you get to hear lots of fun conversations. Ever since during the Cricket World Cup, you could have started a conversation with anyone on cricket. All of a sudden even women were all into analyzing players and providing statistics.
People stare at me and want to conversate and I just quietly listen and nod. Every now and then I drop a few words, like “that was pretty harsh” or “the damn government, all thieves”.

And then sometimes busses get so close, that you can shake hands with people from the other bus or enjoy the music they are playing for a long time, since traffic jam is always the major factor, why your 15 minute ride (according to German standards) takes 45 to 90 minutes.

What bothers me though is the situation when it gets too crowded and you have to get off. The “booty contact meter” soars and reaches its peak and you just have the feeling, that getting sooo close to guys is sooo wrong.

Anyways. There are no destined areas where busses stop, but the stations are set. So when getting off, I might get off at the sidewalk or even in the middle of the road. Before getting off, the bus guy yells “bam pa prothom, bam pa prothom”, which means “left foot first”. In case you trip on the street when literally jumping out of the moving bus like a monkey, you have the stronger right foot to get yourself adjusted.

Bangladesh 101: Left Foot First

Rickshaw fare from Gulshan-1 to Gulshan-2: 15 Taka if you are good in bargaining, else 20 Taka.

Rickshaw fare from Gulshan-2 to Khilgaon Chowdhury Para: between 50 and 70 Taka, depending on the time.

Bus fare from Gulshan-2 to Khilgaon Chowdhury Para: 8 Taka.



Inside the bus after work