Our schedule for the day included a tour of the GIS “First School”, along with a shopping circuit of DIT I & II and certain other Dhaka hotspots for expatriate purchases. After helping Ben and Gemma (our neighbors who live in the other apartment on our floor) to some breakfast, since they seemed to have gotten locked out of their kitchen (it can happen!), we met Debra and some of the other teachers downstairs and hopped onto one of several waiting rickshas. After a stop on road 8 of Baridhara DOHS (the neighborhood where we live) to pick up some more teachers (and rickshas), we were off.

The ride itself provided us with several interesting sights (and smells), as we rode through the Gulshan II neighborhood and witnessed an impressive amount of men tarring the roads to make them wider. There was no heavy machinery present…the tar was boiled in huge cauldrons on the side of the road, with the smoke obscuring the vision of drivers and pedestrians alike, and most likely clogging up the lungs of every living soul around. Some of the roads in which this was happening we cordoned off, while on others the rickshas and cars drove right past the workers and their smoke. [A curious fact, which were able to observe later, is that even though the roads are now paved right to the sidewalks, the rickshas and cars still insist on driving on the old pavement, effectively ignoring the improvements. This is only starting to change a little bit now, several months after the roads were expanded.]

After our toxic ride, we stopped at GIS First School and were treated to a tour, culminating in a tea and buiscuits time in the teacher’s staff room. Here we encountered our old friend Mr. Napoleon, who was brought in to instruct us on some of the finer protocols of life in Bangladesh. Among other things, we learned that if a woman does not wear an orna (a scarf-like overlay upon the standard shalwar kemeez apparel), it is the Western equivalent of going out in public with only a bra on (which people seem to be getting away with increasingly often in Hollywood). Other points of protocol, such as giving and receiving things only with the right hand, were mentioned (the left hand is supposedly unclean, used for wiping nethers and such — though what if you’re a lefty?).
After stopping to shop at DIT II (the market at the Gulshan II circle/crossing), we toured GIS Upper School and took our lunch at the Navana Towers, located at the Gulshan I circle/crossing, near the school. We were offered a selection between a Thai restaurant called @corner an the shop nextdoor, called RollExpress Café. Taara and I opted for the latter, while the rest of the teachers went for the Thai food (which took three times as long to arrive muhahahaha). We ordered the “Special” Egg Chicken Tikka Roll (heretofore to be known only as “handfull of hell“) and boy, did we go through two one-liter bottles of water fast as we ate those things. Taara theorizes that the folks at that restaurant must have put triple the amount of spices into our rolls just to watch the poor bideshis (foreigners) squirm and excrete water from all their facial orifices. [I've since gone back there for more punishm...er...food. It was hot, but I loved it.]

After lunch we explored the DIT I market (which is cleverly named because it is next to the Gulshan I circle/crossing…see the trend here?) and purchased material for making clothes. Having clothes made here is, quite literally, dirt cheap. I mean, you would pay more to buy dirt here, probably, than you would to get a shalwar kemeez or a shirt and pants tailor-made using the materials of your choice. Needless to say, this is a temptation that Taara and I (I place myself here only out of solidarity — it will be mostly Taara) will have to resist indulging in to excess!

Our final stop of the day was at the “German Butcher,” apparently one of the few places in Dhaka where you can actually buy pork products and decent cheeses. Apparently neither the owner, nor his wife, are in fact German. I forget the details, but I’m sure Taara remembers and will be happy to inform anyone who really cares (I can’t imagine why…). We stocked up on some salami and cheese to make sandwiches, and plowed through the toxic fumes in Gulshan II as we rode the GIS van on our way home.