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There is a term
for it. A posting to places like Dhaka, Yangon are known, within certain
circles, as hardship postings. Extra benefits are appendaged to
contracts to entice staff to move there, the general feeling that an
absence of clean drinking water, The Daily Mail and Emmenthal Cheese
does not encourage the movers and shakers to want to relocate.
Of course, the expats can leave. The locals don’t have
that luxury. It has not been recorded, as far as I’m aware, what a day
labourer in Dhaka thinks of his city being described as a hardship post
by a Gulshan dwelling expat.
But Dhaka has much to commend it if one is willing to
roll up their sleeves and get stuck in. Some people make a go of it,
some can’t cope, some even make a difference. And some sit at the bar
and try to get by.
A group of friends sit at the bar on a regular basis.
Lions, a cocky London businessman with a tortoise like shell but soft
underbelly. Somewhere. Chins, the ideological opposite, yet also his
best mate. A sensitive soul on the outside, starting to question his
life held beliefs on the inside. BC, the consummate, stereotypical
businessman, invited to all the galas and functions yet most at home
with the lads in the bar and their irreverent humour. Muirman, one time
wide boy, current time tight wad but still a spinner of yarns. Then
there is the eternally homesick Sweaty from the Highlands, Trish,
partner of BC and bed hopper extraordinaire. General, life long expat,
drinker and scrapper.
And amid it all, the ever calm Sami, barman of many years
standing and friendly ear to all who pass through.
The friends get by, coping with the hartals that close
the streets; the power cuts that close business and the other expats who
just close minds.
But the expat community is a part of the tapestry that is
Dhaka. Polarized politics divides the country as surely as Rangers and
Celtic divide Glasgow. The personal, deep, animosity of the leader of
the ruling party and the leader of the opposition is played out on the
streets of the country, the city, even the rooms of learning are not
immune to their petty viciousness.
Abuse of power by politicians or family members is rife,
lost honour is repaid by battery acid…but not everyone is dragged down
by the baseness around them. There are some people who care, who want,
in their own little way, to spread some light among the dimness of
poverty and abuse.
What I have tried to do here is evoke the magic of the
east, throw in some of the evil of the world then add a dash of the
goodness that lies within all of us. It is a tale of expats. And locals.
And power. And abuse. But above all it is about people. People
surrounded by drudgery but trying to get by. Or people who want to make
a difference.
Who would this appeal to? Too often expatriate writing,
especially when based in Asia, falls into the category of sex and beer
in sleazy little bars. It would be nice to break the mould and appeal to
a wider audience, to offer a different perspective of the ‘Asian
Experience.’ I think expats would recognize many of the situations from
elsewhere. The drinking, the loneliness, the bed hopping, the gossip.
People with an interest in Bangladesh would be interested in the
vignettes of life there. Much of it based on the writer’s personal
experience or stories he has heard of.
The Old Woman died but after a life of sheer hell, she
enjoyed a few rays of sunshine. Begum went through days of horror but
thanks to a caring Iman she can start again. People come to the big
city, Sami finds them work. Akbar learns how to take responsibility.
Stumpy has no future because someone can’t cope. Monir climbs the social
ladder of the slum on the heads of his neighbours.
There is no beginning, no middle, no end in the
conventional sense because the experiences related here are eternal.
This story ends because Lions and Chins move on. The bar remains the
same, the people move on but the suffering of the locals’ remains. The
bitchiness of the expats is a constant. The headlines are still
dominated by the bad while in the background the Valerie and the Iman
and the journalist and the Sami of the tale carry on their work because
essentially there is a goodness in people that can grow in the most
unpalatable environment. And that is the theme of the book…Click
Here
for Chapter 1
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