Get Your Head Out Of The Clouds, There Are Potholes In The Road...

Today has not gone…smoothly. I didn't sleep well last night. Chumleigh kept getting caught in the mosquito netting surrounding our bed. Chumleigh loves the mosquito netting because since we don’t want him exsanguinated during the night by the voraciously blood sucking mosquitoes, he gets to sleep with us. My husband is 6’4” and Chumleigh takes up more room than he does.

I slept in. A lot; and was woken up by Chumleigh’s delicate," I’ll pee on the bed if you don’t get up in the next two minutes" bark. I dragged myself sluggishly out of bed and tripped over the mosquito net trying to get out.

Once outside the surprisingly cool, dry morning air perked up my spirits and I began to enjoy our walk. It’s a routine now. Pee on the tree just to the right of the driveway (Chumleigh, not me), walk past the mansion with three dogs. Bark at them fiercely (again Chumleigh) since they are stuck behind a fence and he is not. This gives him unwarranted courage.

Bark as we walk past the bank of rickshaw drivers trying to score a ride (that’s me, not Chumleigh).

I was starting to really enjoy myself. With spectacularly bad timing, I looked up at the gently rustling leaves in the trees overhead just as I stepped off the curb. As my foot hit the road, a pothole viciously leapt up and attacked me. My left foot jammed forward into the edge of the pothole. My right foot jammed downward into its center. Pain shot up the back of my leg. I think I broke my left butt cheek…and possibly my right toe.

Clearly karma was not in my favor today. I limped back to the apartment and feeling very sorry for myself curled up on the couch for a nap. I didn’t wake again until 10:30. It felt good to be lazy. I managed to luxuriate in my laziness for 10 minutes straight. Then I got restless.

Sighing, I finally got up and showered, determined to get out of my funk and do something productive. I soaked my sore butt cheek for a while, got dressed and headed back out doors.

I was determined not to call Shalom. The last time we used him he tried to convince us to buy him a new shirt and pants. Downstairs, in front of the apartment I had only to wait a couple of moments before an eager rickshaw driver pulled up next to me.

“Unimart? You know Unimart?”, I queried. He nodded his head and we engaged in the negotiation ritual to determine a price. Finally we took off and headed down the busy road and across the bridge. I reveled in watching the chaotic scene unfold. It always succeeds in making me feel so alive. Several streets whizzed passed and suddenly I realized we were at Gulshan Circle. This was bad for several reasons. First, it was bad that I wasn’t paying attention to where we were. Derek drills situational awareness into my head on a daily basis. Second, I wasn’t supposed to be in Gulshan Circle until after 3:00. It was 1:30, and third, it was nowhere near Unimart!

I leaned forward “Unimart? You know where Unimart is, yes? It’s a food store. Groceries. You know it?”

“Uhhh..Unimart…this?”

Grrrr…”No, not Unimart. Gulshan Circle. You don’t know Unimart?”

He looked confused. Since we were stuck in traffic, he leaned over to another driver to ask directions. He listened intently and his face cleared. He looked back at me and smiled, giving me a thumbs up.

With renewed certainty he went back the other way and pulled up in front of a lighting store.

“Unimart?” he said hopefully.

Sigh...“No. not really”.

“I find”. And he took off again.

He stopped at three more stores, declaring each one to be Unimart before I finally insisted he stop and take me home.

I’d had it, I was determined to go back to bed. Then stubbornness got the better of me. I was even more determined to get to Unimart. Righteous indignation surged. I was supposed to pick up a doll for a sick little girl that the girl scouts were collecting toys for. They were meant to be picked up today and by golly, some directionally challenged rickshaw driver was not going to thwart my philanthropic efforts!

I went back out to the curb and selected another rickshaw. I spoke clearly and concisely.

“You know Unimart? Grocery store. For food. You know it? Yes?”

“Yes m’am. Unimart.”

“Okay. Unimart.”

Off we headed, once more Unimart bound. I’ll keep this short. We ended up everywhere BUT Unimart. In fact, where we ended up…TWICE…was Khaleda Zia’s office, where throngs of press huddled in vans waiting for something interesting to happen. For those not in the know, Zia is the opposition party leader here in Bangladesh. Feel free to look it up. We’ll just leave it at, her office is one of the most likely places in Dhaka for violence to break out outside of Gulshan Circle; two of the many places I have been today, none of which were Unimart. 

In the end. I finally made him pull over, giving him a fraction of what I had agreed to pay, and walked home, and home is where I am staying for the rest of the day.

Today is not a good karma day for me. I will keep my head out of the clouds and keep my eyes on the pavement.