Back in Dhaka

After two months travelling around Europe in the depths of a Northern Hemisphere winter it is back to Dhaka and to continue working at the International School of Dhaka.
The warmth of the return both weather wise and the from the people has been wonderful and even though I have known people here for only a short time it is being back with good friends that know you well.
Dhaka has changed a bit over the months we were away.  There has been considerable political turmoil so there are many more armed guards and soldiers on the street.  Especially where we live as the embassies are all close by

   

But as you can see from the photos the soldiers are not very intimidating and the rifle is something to lean on especially when you are doing your shopping.

There has been a permanent 'hartal' since early January.  This is supposed to close the streets and shops and no business is supposed to occur.  In our area of Dhaka life goes as nearly normal.

There seems to be more buildings being constructed but the crazy way that computer cabling is done has not changed.

With spring there are even blossom trees in full display, and some important new messages.

The roads continue with their incredible chaos and the buses are just as ramshackle as ever.  The rickshaws are just as plentiful and colorful.
       




The street stalls continue to sell their food and the bicycle repair shop on the side of the road continues to operate.
            

The children still want their photo taken and with the World Cup in full swing cricket matches spring up everywhere.

One thing that impresses about the people of Dhaka is their clothing.  They are always immaculately dressed and the white is white even though that seems surprising given the grime of the city.  The women are usually dressed in bright colours and even though it is 30 degrees no male ever wears shorts.  Except me, of course.
                     

                    

Even Gulshan Lake (a smelly, polluted man-made lake) looks acceptable when the light is right.

A day in Rome

Our arrival in Rome was anything but auspicious.  A two hour wait in a queue to get through immigration.  There was no queuing system just a squash of people.  Then no stamp or check on our passports.  They did not even open my passport to check the photo!

Then catching the train and following some obscure directions to our apartment to meet 'Marco'.  Marco wanted to talk and talk, and it was useful talk; but we were jet lagged and tired.

I had a very early dinner (by Rome standards) and then crashed.

Sunday woke up early and went for a walk as the sun came up.  The area we are in - Testaccio - has no modern buildings.  Just wonderful architecture probably from the late 1800s early 1900s.  As well it is alongside one of the seven hills of Roma and next to the Tiber river.  The area is not touristy but is residential. It is close to the many tourist areas and has a wonderful array of authentic restaurants and shops.

Stella at Colesseo

Nothing open till about 8 when I had my first Italian coffee and pastry.  This is the way every Italian starts there day!  Then a pleasant, though slightly chilly walk, to the Colosseum.  Impressive ruins and not to many tourists.  More impressive was the ruins opposite which will be tomorrows agenda.  Lots of photos and many touts selling camera sticks for taking 'selfies'.

Colesseo

Then negotiated the Roman subway.  Easy!  But some of the trains were absolutely covered in graffiti with not a square cm not written on.  At first look they appeared moving pieces of art.  A nice walk around Republica and another coffee and pastry for 'second breakfast'.


Then another subway journey to the Vatican.  Managed to foil someone pick pocketing me.   My wallet is attached by chain to my trousers so when I felt the hand in my pocket they could not get the wallet.  I glared at the perpetrator and pushed him into a corner.  There were three guys working together as the others held the door open for the 'escape'.  Pleased I stopped them but not sure if I could of done more.

Stella's audience with the Pope

Thousands to see the man

Thousands of people walking down the road.  Into St Peter's square which is packed with people.  Probably 10 thousand people.  Then the man himself is at a window in the Apostlic Palace.

The Pope at the open window top right.

The crowd goes berserk!  So we hear a papal statement.  I understood two words 'Buongiorno' and "Arrivederci'.  But it must have been important as everyone cheered.  Don't know if we got the blessing!!  Lot of Argentinian flags.

Cute Swiss guards

Tried to get in to St Peter's church but too crowded so took some photos of the Swiss guards in their cute uniforms.  A few police about but very little security considering the risk.

The subway journey back was amazing.  Thousands squashed into the train; a most remarkable journey could hardly breathe let alone move.

Primo

Time for an authentic Sunday lunch.

Primo for me was spaghetti with bacon, artichokes and leek followed by pork and potatoes for secondi.

Secondi

Stella had tagliatelle with mushrooms followed by a rocket and Parmesan salad.  But she did have a some of my delicious pork.
I finished with a wonderful espresso while Stella indulged on tiramasu.
All washed down with a large amount of the house red wine.  For a house wine it was remarkable quality.

Then as fitting after an Italian Sunday lunch a little lie down.  Late dinner simply pizza and more red wine (Brunello di Montalcino)

Day one finished!

Moral Leadership

Most readers of this blog are aware of the reason for my being back in New Zealand.  One of the real positives (there are a few) is to be aware of the way that one is treated by others.

In the leadership roles that I have had I have always considered carefully the morality of the role.  What is my role about in considering the way I act towards others and how I use resources to make people's lives better?

I have always drifted towards supporting those who have been marginalised by society.  The poor, indigenous peoples, gay students, those with unfortunate lives for no reason of their own.  I have never really been in that position in society but I have always had the view that those marginalised people need more.

Many people influenced my development but two people stand out.

• Lester Levy - a leadership guru who inspired (and supported) me to always do what you thought was right.  To stand up even when you know you are going to get chopped down.
• Greg Ellis - a business consultant who did not talk but did.  Greg just helped wherever and whenever he could and so many wonderful ideas flow from him.

I do not see myself in political alignment with either of these guys - they are much to 'right' for me; but they have both been inspirational and wonderfully supportive to me.  (Though these left/right terms don't really make sense.  We should just judge people's attributes)

In Bangladesh I met a third person who has been inspirational and supportive to me.  With Stella's illness (see last posting) I am for the first time in my life in a vulnerable and risky position (especially regarding employment and finances).  My principal in Bangladesh, Craig Salmon, has stood up as would be expected of an outstanding leader, and has shown incredible support well beyond anything that I expected.

My sadness about New Zealand politics is that I do not see inspiring moral leadership that has been shown by these three people I have mentioned.  Throughout history we have had wonderful leaders on both sides of the political fence in New Zealand but now it all seems to be about political expediency and self-interest and never mind the morals.

Is this leadership in the 21st Century?

Sadness at so many levels.

It has been a very long time between posts and this posting explains why.

It also talks about a lot of sadness for me at so many levels of life.

Firstly the reason for no posting.  Stella and I are back in New Zealand and have been here since the middle of October.  This has been an unwanted trip and we would prefer to be back in Dhaka than here.  We have returned here because Stella had what we thought was a routine operation in Bangkok at the beginning of October.  The operation went well and the care was tremendous.

However it was found that the tumor that Stella had removed was not benign and was malignant.  The prognosis we were given was not good.  We returned to New Zealand for further prognosis and treatment in what we remember (probably through rose-tinted spectacles) as a public health system which would deliver the care we needed.

We have been shocked!

We enrolled in Wellington immediately we arrived and had an expectation that we would be seen in two weeks.  After three weeks of waiting and no contact we rang and left several messages.  Still no reply so a formal complaint was made.  A phone call then occurred and we were told it would be several more weeks before we could get a notification of an appointment.

So we have had to go to the only private oncology centre in New Zealand and pay for consultation and treatment.  Lucky our school insurance will pay the $16000 required.  The treatment is excellent but unavailable through the Public Health System.

Hence the sadness.  Obviously sad that Stella has a poor prognosis.  Sadness also that NZ's once proud public health system where everyone was an equal no longer exists. While we have loved catching up with family and friends we could have got the treatment in most countries of the world by going private.

So NZ's current political leaders have run done our health system while promoting and endorsing private care.  The prime minister 'Slimy John' opened the private oncology centre we are going to while his government endorses cuts to NZ's health system.  I can't imagine a previous prime minister in NZ's history doing that.

So everyone get Health Insurance because the run down system will not help you even when it is serious and life threatening.  This is not a criticism of the people but of the politicians who endorse a system that allows only the privileged to access the best care.  It is nice to be able to access this care but only a very few New Zealander's can get the care we have had.

The Street

The street in Dhaka is an interesting place to be.  The immediate area where we live is very peaceful and green and with very little traffic.  Courtesy of the closed off roads and guards (many armed) who control access.

But within 400 m and a short walk one is in the crowded streets of rickshaw alley.  Here roadside stalls, rickshaws, pedestrians, and an occasional car all are in an amazing street about 7 metres wide.  As well there will be someone pushing or cycling with a huge load.





















One can buy live trussed-up chickens or very fresh healthy produce.  I brought two mangoes yesterday for 140 Taka.  About US$1.60.  A cucumber for 20 Taka (they laughed at me so I know I got ripped off).  Sometimes there is some very dodgy looking fish!  There always the man with the hot roasted peanuts and the cobbler fixing shoes on the side of the road.  As well the man on the sewing machine is there only some days.  You can pay for your phone at a tin shed or buy a power plug adapter (you need heaps of these).

Walking around with a camera provokes interest.  Once I felt someone tugging my camera and expected it to be a person trying to take it.  But it was someone who wanted their picture taken, which is a very common request. And not from children.





















The people are all friendly and impeccably dressed.  Even though the street is mud or dust (depending on when it last rained) everyone is wearing clean clothes.  The cars slow down so they don't splash people.
It is an amazing street.

Traffic

The first in your face experience in Dhaka is getting around.  The roads and traffic are horrendous and scary.  Initially one is too scared to cross the road but now we run between the traffic holding out our hand like a seasoned local which encourages the vehicles to stop - although they rarely do.

A well used bus

The buses are amazing!  All the buses look as though they have been in a demolition derby.  With dents and damage all over them.  They slow down, but often don't stop to let people on and off.  They don't pull over and will often stop in the middle of the round creating chaos all around them as people run through the cars to board them.

Let's jump now

A 'CNG'

Bus chaos

The roads are crowded with a menagerie of vehicles and people.  Humans push incredible loads of supplies on the deck of wheeled carts through speeding buses and trucks.  As well there are small green 'tuk-tuks' ducking between cars.  They are called CNGs here.  They look like death traps because you are caged in.


When one wishes to enter a stream of traffic you just turn into it depending on the courage of the driver.  The stream is supposed to let you in.


As well there are rickshaws everywhere.  They can be quite quick because they go up narrow alleys and can avoid traffic congestion.  But in places they add to the chaos by going the wrong way along main roads, crossing across streams of traffic and basically being completely devoid of road rules.

Rickshaw Alley

Which way do I go?

Lets just hang out!

The roads are also a congregating place for people especially rickshaws.  They all hang out at street corners filling up half the road.

They streets are filled with a constant sound of horns being blasted.  Drivers use their horn in place of the their brake.  It means 'I'm coming get out of the way'

Our street

Our apartment

Our suburb while only a few minutes from a main road is very peaceful.  One end of the suburb is blocked off so there is no through traffic.  The roads are quiet and the streets full of greenery.  Our apartment building is an oasis of calm.








Every day in the car to and from school (about 15 minutes in the morning and 25 minutes coming home) is an adventure.  There are very few crashes which is due to the fact the traffic hardly moves at times and the amazing skill of the drivers.