Shocker

4/25/2013

So I woke up this morning thinking I had to charge my IPhone 3GS. When I reached into my jacket pocket, I knew my day was not going to begin well. I had stowed my charger and earphones in my left jacket pocket to use during my long transit in Jeddah. In my right jacket pocket, there should have been my passport (where I had zippered it after getting through immigration) and a bunch of napkins I stashed (since no Asians countries provide tp in the restrooms). I you've haven't guessed it already, yes, everything was taken, even the seemingly worthless napkins. Panic was my first reaction. I checked my surroundings and other places I normally store my passport. Nothing. I walked out of my room defeated and announced with my jacket still in my hand that my passport had been stolen. My host's initial reaction was to laugh because he thought I was kidding, like how could so many absurd things happen to me. After I rummaged through everything again when he asked if I was sure, I confirmed the horror. He and his three housemates (Elsa, Nick and Ben) began discussing my options. I would first go and ask the guards downstairs if they remembered anything about the driver from the night before, bringing along their cook to translate. The next course of

A bit of flooding on the road to the embassy.

action would be to head to my embassy, which ended up being closed. Lastly, I should try getting help from Elsa's police contact, Seldon (not just any police since you won't get help unless you know someone). So I went to the station alone after reaching the inspector on the phone beforehand and filled out a 'Lost News' form. I told him how I had gotten stopped in Mirpur and if he could try contacting them for a license plate. He also called his US Embassy friend to see if I could go in today. No luck since they were 'closed for some reason' for a Thursday (Fridays and Saturdays are the country's weekend days where everyone has off). I finished and headed out hoping to get an email or call though my chances seem slim.

After chilling for a bit back at my host's, I mustered all my courage to head back out, fueled with Chris's encouragement and his guided map. I walked down his suggested path for about the third time today towards the markets. One noticeable population in the streets are men. They're everywhere lol. No wonder I kept getting awkward stares. However, I walked as though I was a force to be reckoned with and seriously considered punching the next nuisance cab driver, haha. Along the way, I heard a familiar language behind me. Of course I would find Chinese people here. We chatted about how it was possible my passport got stolen, scarves, quality textiles here versus China (though Bangladesh apparently has no style), and skin color standards. He concluded that it's okay to be black since it's a sign of leisure in the states, but I should be more careful and perhaps get some sunnies. How could I not crack a smile by now? After failing to convince me that I should hire a driver for my duration here and confirming that I didn't need further escort, we turned in differing directions.

Feeling more at ease, I began searching for things on my misc to buy list like the iPhone charger that always seems to be running from me. I'm very glad to have came out again. I met the locals who thoroughly enjoyed getting their photos taken, which was quite a contrast to other Asian countries who will just say no. In fact, if I took a pic of one stall, the next one would want one too and it domino effect to the exit. Getting peckish, I found a food stall with guys stuffing potatoes into bread and then frying them. This was paired with a side of curry, which was mutton. Lucky for me, they had a vegetarian one in the back. They were just as excited for me to take photos of their work. It was then I could feel my travel bug dig deeper into my skin. I sat and had five of the chilli potato-stuffed puffs with some curry. That was when a local asked me their infamous question 'are you married'. Though I knew it would be more convenient to answer 'yes', I said 'no' challengingly and continued to enjoy my meal. Joyously, I walked out after finishing my 40 cents meal to catch then making naan. Okay, so Bangladesh isn't bad after all.

My curry and potato chab.

On my swift walk home, I saw a non-local walking and we exchanged good evenings. Then I asked if he was Australian. Yep, a Mike from Adelaide. A quick intro and I found myself detouring from home to the Australian Club. When you are with Aussies, it's always beer o'clock. Considering it was Anzac Day, it meant more the reason to get pissed, aka drunk. Hmmmm, how did my days go from one extreme to the other? I told them my story and they deemed it unbelievable, so I became CIA for the rest of the night. Bloody Aussies; gotta love 'em. So if I miraculously get my passport back before next week, I'm invited to white water raft in Nepal. As for tomorrow, Old Dhaka. Let's see how many of the four Aussies looking to go actually wake up :).

In good company: Nicole, Andrew, and Mike.