Tuesday, May 26, 2015

The Mongoose Strikes at Midday...


And we're back! Ready to continue our adventure. Because of the exciting nature of the rest of the day, tradition as everyone knows, dictates that I must begin with "There I was...!" Or more appropriately, there we were. Let me back up a moment or two and then we will pick up where we left off.

There we were. We were in the boat heading towards shore. It was clear that we had a top of the line tour guide. He didn't miss a thing and as the boat neared the shore he exclaimed with excitement, "Look! Dead dog floating in water!" Really, our experience just wouldn't have been the same had we missed that. 

Now, safely up on the main road, we followed our guide down a crowded street. I feel bad for continuing to call him simply "our guide". I did ask him at one point what his name was but as often happens I just ended up staring blankly at him as he spat out an incomprehensibly complicated 43 letter name. Glassy eyed, I said thank you, and moved on. I will continue to call him "our guide".

Within minutes he turned into a narrow passageway lined with shops. The buildings were impossibly close. I looked up between the tall corroding towers noting that there was maybe only ten feet between them. Looking at the cables and wires strung wildly back and forth between the buildings like some deranged game of cats cradle, I noticed old clothes, shoes, food and garbage laying across the wiry jumble. Clearly garbage disposal here consisted of opening a window and tossing whatever you didn't want out of it.

Just as I was getting really claustrophobic wandering through the tight alleys, the guide turned right and led us into an open area. Clearly, it was only open because a building had been torn down; or fallen down. Either was a possibility. 



To our right, several children were gathering around a man sitting cross legged in the rubble with three small wooden boxes. The boxes had once been brightly painted, but now the paint was faded and worn. Curious about the ruckus, we turned towards the small crowd and heard someone say something about a Cobra. Really? Because that's just too cliche'. You know the scene; the guy in the Lungi and a turban wielding a flute and luring a cobra out of a basket? Okay, so our guy didn't have a flute and it was a box, not a basket, and he wasn't wearing a turban, but still, I thought that was only in movies. 

The crowd was growing. Our guide egged the man on, encouraging him to open the box. Of course, the man demurred with an abundance of, well, insincerity, because we all know that this is what he was there for to begin with.

Finally with great flare, he opened the box and reaching in, flung the Cobra out on the the rocks in front of him. The Cobra curled with half his body rising up, his hood flared out menacingly. He really was an impressive sight. The crowd gasped and leapt back a step. The man grabbed another box and flung yet another snake out of it. No hood, so I don't know what variety he was. Then, in order to really get the show going, the man reached for a third box and opening it, revealed a mongoose inside. 

Pretty dramatic right? I let myself just smile and enjoy the scene because, what the heck! I was standing in Bangladesh, next to the Ganges river, watching a Cobra and a Mongoose getting ready to go at it. You have to appreciate the exotic coolness of the scene.

Now, here is where it goes from dramatic to pretty freakin' funny. I may have already mentioned that the heat index that day was 116. We were in a sheltered area with no ventilation, which I'm pretty sure ran that heat index up to somewhere in the 300's. 

As the crowd waited with baited breath for the battle to commence, it became clear that the animals hearts weren't really in it. If you watch animals closely enough you can tell what they are saying; you just have to pay attention. It may have been the heat, but as I stood there, I could clearly hear the Cobra say, as he turned to face the Mongoose, "Oh, hey Raj, How's it going? Really hot today, don't you think? Honestly I'm too tired to fight. Do we have to do this?" The Mongoose looked back at the Cobra sympathetically and replied "I know, right? But you know the drill. This guys not gonna let up until we make him look good, so why don't you strike at me and then I'll do sort of a hissing kind of thing back at you". The crowd always loves that. As I listened to their inner dialog I also noticed that the Mongoose was actually tied to the box.

With that,  the Cobra rose a little higher into the air and struck out half heartedly towards the Mongoose, who as discussed, bared his teeth and made a little hissing sound. The handler was getting frustrated and practically shoved the Cobra down the mongooses throat. The other snake had gone back to sleep. The two realized they were going to have to up their game and finally made a couple of passes at each other. The crowd was sufficiently pleased. People cheered. I thought the Cobra looked like it needed a nap. The handler was given a nice tip and we moved on. So, maybe not dramatic, but still people, come on, a Cobra and Mongoose fighting! It's a little cool, right?

There was more wandering. For some reason the guide decided to take us through a sweat shop garment factory on like the 87th floor of a building. Okay, it may have been the fourth floor, but I was tired. Frankly, the factory was more depressing than the floating dog had been and we left hastily. More wandering and then we were back at the waterfront.

We walked through an empty yard sort of area where random ship parts lay scattered in the dirt as though a child giant had been playing with them and left them there, forgetting to pick up his toys. There were huge propellers and anchors and chains. The guide showed us how the new propellers were made. It was pretty interesting and a great photo op. 

















Next he headed towards a huge rusty yellow, orange and white ship. We were a little perplexed about what his intention was until he pointed to a "plank" that ran diagonally next to the side of the ship. It was about 14 inches wide by 40 ft long. It was around 30 ft up to the first deck so you can imagine the angle that the board climbed at. Pretty much vertical. There was more confusion. Surely he didn't mean for us to climb that?? Was he crazy! Had he never heard of liability?? I don't think there is a tour company in all of America that would have let us climb that board! Again he pointed at the plank vigorously and yelled "chop, chop!!" I stared at the plank, oddly calm and that, "Oh, so this is how I'm going to die".






I don't know what possessed me; most likely stupidity. Maybe it was all the young people in the tour. Maybe I had to prove myself or something, but I'm going with stupidity. Before I had even thought it through I was shimmying up the plank. I refuse to call it a ladder. It was a plank. Each time I stepped forward the plank would bow and wobble. I clung to it like a baby monkey clings to its mother. There were guys in our group who looked like they knew 50 different ways to kill you with a spoon but I bet at that particular moment they were thinking, Oh crap! The old lady went, now we HAVE to go! Derek has confirmed that this was pretty much what he was thinking. 

Finally, trembly step by trembly step I made it to the top. Our guide had gone up ahead of me and was still yelling "chop, chop!" Once I was standing safely on the deck, I looked down the side of the ship at the plank and nearly fell over. Oh dear...the ground looked disturbingly far away. As the rest of the group started their ascent, I stepped back away from the edge of the ship and had a sudden, disheartening realization. I had a flash back to my childhood and belatedly remembered that I was that kid who could always climb up a tree easily enough, but could never get back down! This was not going to go well.

I chose to not think about the trip back down for the moment and moved to the other side of the ship. There were more steps. I was hot, tired and out of breath. The guide yelled chop chop again and I wheeled around. Looking him straight in the eye I growled through clenched teeth, "There is no more chop chop! There won't be anymore chop chop for at least ten minutes! He backed off.




I will admit, it was a pretty spectacular view of the harbor. I took my ten minutes to cool down and get my heart to stop racing but there was no delaying the inevitable. It was time to go back down the plank. By now, a ghoulish group of locals had gathered at the base of the board and were gleefully taking bets on which of us would plummet to our deaths first. I'm just speculating here, but I'm pretty sure that's what they were doing.

It's true what they say about never looking down. It's the only reason I'm sitting here typing this today. The hardest part was just getting back on to the board. After that, my eyes never left the spot I was placing my foot next. The men were cheering...I think; or heckling. My foot finally made contact with the ground. If the docks hadn't been so repulsively filthy I would have kissed it. 

The locals looked a little disappointed when the last of us hit solid ground unscathed, but we were all pretty relieved. On an odd note, there were four men standing on a board that was tied off over the side of the boat. They each had hammers and were banging repeatedly on the side of the ship for no apparent reason. Derek suggested that they were up there laughing saying "hey just keep banging on the side! The foreigners won't know what to think!" I am quite certain that as we went around the end of the ship and were out of sight, they threw back their heads in a fit of raucous laughter.

So, those are the interesting bits. We made our way back to the river and climbed into our boat to head over to the other shore. Our guide pointed out what appeared to be a derelict ship. Blue paint covered copious rust and it looked like no one had set foot on it in decades. We were a little surprised to discover that it was, in fact, a hotel. All it took to get a room was 100 taka a night (about a buck and a half). We decided to pass.




We continued on our journey through the streets of Old Dhaka and made our way to The Pink Palace. Built two hundred years ago during the British occupation, it is in fact a large bright pink palace which was unfortunately closed for lunch. It was about this time that we all started to feel the effects of the torrid heat so the decision was made to stop for a bit and have lunch. We ate at a great place called Blue Berry. I say great primarily because it was air conditioned, but fortunately the food was good as well. An hour later, reinvigorated, we headed back to the Pink Palace only to discover that it was still closed. 

The day continued with a tour down Hindu street, but that will have to wait until Pt. 3.

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