My First Airplane Ride: an Account by Fragrant Junior

The day began as it always did, with myself singing sweetly to my parents in the other room that the sun was to rise momentarily, and now is the moment to come release me from my crib so that we may enjoy it together. Mother came in (hurrah!), and gave me my pre-breakfast energy drink (double hurrah!!)

Author's note : "Double hurrah" -- get it? Because I have two, er, milkshake dispensers?!?!?! (Author's addendum: I explain for the sake of dum-dums like myself who would never have gotten it.)

After a wholesome meal of waffle and banana, I suffered myself to be changed into a fresh diaper and a set of clothes. I was then allowed to run about and play with all my new gifts from my adoring worshippers. But then I realized that I should earn my keep, especially as we were to embark on a long journey, so I called the airline:

Me: I would like to confirm our flight. Reservation code is [REDACTED]. 

Person: Yes, two seats on the bulkhead and a bassinet, that's confirmed. 

Me: A bassinet? That can't be right. What are the height and weight limits on that?

Person: The maximum weight is 10.5 kilos, sir. The bassinet is 77 cm in length. 

Me: Well, I -- I mean, the baby -- happens to be over both of those measurements, so cancel the bassinet, please. 

Person: Understood. 

***

Having done my duty, I played the part of the perfect pre-boarding passenger, waving at all the new fans I inevitably attracted. It was quite tiring to be on all the time, so I occasionally took time to re-center myself. 

When the time came for boarding and takeoff, I again pulled off a flawless performance: friendly, not too loud, and only slightly filthy from all the chocolate I'd been given. 

Author's warning: Do not make the same mistake I did. No sweets to the little one before takeoff!

***

Father seems extremely upset about not having the bassinet. He keeps telling Mother that he bought these seats specifically so we could have a bassinet. 

Oops. 

***

Good news: the flight attendants asked the passenger across the aisle to scoot over one so we could have a whole other non-occupied seat for our family of three! She (the passenger) keeps waving to me. She is very nice. I am waving back. 

***

I listened to some light music after lunch, in preparation for my nap:

But I couldn't stop my mind from wrestling with so many questions. Why wasn't I allowed to run down all the aisles? Why did Father forbid me from having more chocolate? How will world leaders enforce the resolutions of the Paris climate talks?

I eventually drifted off into sweet oblivion, cradled in the loving arms of Mother. 

***

Play, play, play:

***

NO! NO! I WILL NOT SLEEP!!! THIS IS THE MOST AWFUL EXPERIENCE OF MY LIFE!!! YOU ARE ALL TERRIBLE!!! THERE WAS SOMEONE ON THE GRASSY KNOLL!!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

(repeat for three hours)

***

Fine, flight attendant, I'll have some milk in a plastic cup. Awww, you drew a face on the lid! That's going the extra mile right there. To thank you, I will have a short nap on Father's shoulder. 

***

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

(repeat for three hours)

***

We are at another airport! This one has nice floors, perfect for eating my snacks:

Ooo, we're getting on another airplane! I can't wait to...can't...can't...

SNOOOOOOORE

(For four glorious hours! On a five-hour flight!)

***

We're here! We're here!

IT'S SO HOT!!! MOMMMM, TAKE ONE LAYER OFF AT LEAST! DO I REALLY NEED THIS SANDO?

Ahhh, thank you. Slightly better. 

***

And that, dear readers, is the long version of my very first airplane ride(s). The bulleted version is:

12:30 Takeoff. Playtime. 

15:30 Nap. 

16:30 Playtime. 

18:30 Crying time. 

21:30 Uneasy sleep. 

22:30 Crying time. 

02:00 Landing. 

TL;DR: We all survived a 15-month-old's first airplane ride. 

This post brought to you by mommy and daddy time in Boracay!

Savannah, GA: The hot hostess city

Fresh from a brief wedding-related soujourn on Hilton Head Island, SC--lovely spot, by the way, especially if you're an avid golfer, or like being smashed by warm waves on the beach--Fragrant Husband and I hung out in Downtown Savannah before the drive back to the city's li'l airport. According to Wikipedia, Savannah is the oldest city in the state of Georgia, and its port is a Big Deal. It is also quite tiny. Here's a picture of its petite city hall:

Naturally, our main goal was to feed me and little Cthulu. We found free parking at the Visitor's Center (also a good place for a bathroom break) and hopped onto the free shuttle. It's a bus, not a trolly, so the upside to not seeing all the cute squares is not dying of heat. Savannah is hot, y'all. We're talking 102 degrees in the shade. I about passed out walking 200 feet (about a city block), no joke. 

We had lunch at Barracuda Bob's, where I had a patty melt and my meng had Guinness Chicken Wings and a beer flight. I now firmly believe that all burgers should be on Texas toast, because buns are annoying and require esoteric Japanese techniques to consume neatly. 

Thus fortified, we decided to walk back to our rental car. It was imperative that I arm myself with a slushy, milky drink, so we went into a coffee shop that promised smoothies and frappes, which Fragrant Husband assured me was like a milkshake. Since we were in Georgia, which grows delicious, delicious peaches, I opted for the peach smoothie. Fragrant Husband was surprised at my choice, because I'd expressly stated my desire for a milkshake, but he stayed silent, foolishly thinking that my brain had retained the following information: milkshake = frappe, not smoothie. So I was a sad panda when I got handed basically crushed ice with peach flavoring. I honestly thought I would get fresh peaches blended with ice-cold milk. My first world problems, they are overwhelming. 

We had to hop back on the shuttle because it was way too hot to walk any sort of distance. Fragrant Hubby confessed later that the heat made him nauseous, but was too manly to say anything, which is probably why we ladies live longer. Endless complaining: it saves lives!

TL; DR: Eat Georgia peaches and stay in the airconditioning!

This post brought to you by my birthday! :-D

San Francisco!

View from rooftop of a startup--see the Golden Gate Bridge?

Fragrant Husband and I went to awesome San Francisco last week to take a little time off from Massholes and psychotic spring weather. We went there for the express purpose of celebrating a dear friend's 30th birthday ("I'm turning into an adult!" she declared. Millenials can be so cute.).

Despite having only one thing on the agenda, our days and nights quickly filled up, mostly because we have friends who are wise and live there. Here are some fun, non-touristy things to do in the City of Fog and Weed, or whatever San Francisco calls itself:

1. Go to a drag show

Specifically, go to AsiaSF, where the drag queens are my people (Pinays) and are built like Greek goddesses, the bastards. You get a delicious three-course meal and several ladies lip-syncing and dancing on the bar in between your appetizer, entree, and dessert. The emcee encouraged everyone to drink up: "Remember, the drunker you are, the prettier we'll look!" ...But seriously, one of them (Amber, I think) was legit gorgeous. They call themselves "the miracles of science" and are damn entertaining. For those who've read Si Amapola sa 65 na Kabanata, this is what Pol does for a living.

2. Walk through the Tenderloin

This is especially recommended when you are towing a waddling woman wearing bling and freely swinging her little purse while chattering nonstop at you. For the uninitiated, the Tenderloin is the city's highest-crime area. We saw drug deals taking place in the open, we were followed for a block, and some chick wandered off from her druggy boyfriend before turning tail and running right back to him when an even shadier dude started catcalling her from the corner. So exciting!

3. Go Shopping

Shoes are always a great investment, since you should be energetically walking around and getting a contact high just from breathing the outside air. Alas, I did not get to buy a fanny pack at the Tibetan gift shop in the Haight-Ashbury area, but the waiting shall make my eventual ownership that much sweeter.

4. Put Food in Your Face

For a hearty breakfast, look no further than Dottie's, which had a line at 8 in the morning on a weekday, it's that good. I polished off an entire omelette (the daily special, with blue cheese and bacon) and a half order of French toast. Thus did I finally earn my husband's awe.

For lunch, Dojima Ann is full of Japanese customers so you know it's solid fare. Good donburi! Also, I ordered in Japanese and our very cheerful waitress complimented my fluency ("Jozu desu ne! Sara sara sara sara..." and I was all, "Fu fu fu fu, iie, iie."). Thus did Dojima Ann win my heart.

5. Use the Bart and MUNI

Small as it is, San Francisco is still bigger than Boston, and walking from Union Square to Sunset will wear a hole in your shoe. Why are you only wearing one shoe?

6. Do Something Fancy

For us, this meant graciously accepting an invitation to the Wingtip Club, which is like the Harvard Club but with competent management, great facilities, and cool furniture. Bonus: their wine pours are ridiculously generous. I ended up donating half of mine to Fragrant Husband, who heroically put it away despite all the other alcohol in his system. Hey, our friends were footing the bill, live it up! We'll pay it forward the next time they come over.

7. Party Like a Rockstar Cat Lady

Like I said, we flew across the country for a birthday celebration. The theme was "Crazy Cat Lady" and everyone showed up prepared. Fragrant Husband wore a dark kitty hat in memory of Sheba and I was his owner. We all got stickers with "Hello My Name is _____" and he called himself Chairman Meow. I was "Cat-atonic Cat-aracts" but in hindsight I should have been "Cat-herine the Great" or something cheesy like that, darnit. 

The party committee went all the way. There was an art contest (color the kitties!--my husband won!), a costume walk-off, games like Truth or Dare Cat Jenga and Pin the Tail on the Cat, a kitty litter cake (not actual kitty litter), kitten videos, and pictures of cats everywhere. 

It was such a gathering of oddballs and I loved every dorky moment of it. 

***

And then it was time to go. But before I finish this post, may I recommend one tourist-y activity: ride the Big Bus Tour, or whichever one offers you a discount. Get up top and just sit there for the whole trip. Then you'll get to see and hear the highlights of this great city!

***

In conclusion, here is a little table with pros and cons of living in San Francisco:

Pros	Cons
Great food Great sights Historical Good economy Diverse population	Earthquakes Smells like weed and pee Hella expensive

This post brought to you by Seafood City Supermarket, where standing in line will make you feel tall. 

Kauai!

Kauai is the northernmost and most epic island on the great state of Hawaii. Fragrant Husband and I, both Hawaii virgins, celebrated our honeymoon there.

We stayed at the Grand Hyatt down in Poipu. The best part about this seaside hotel is the constant sound of the waves breaking against the shore. We kept our balcony door open all the time (which automatically shut off the airconditioning), so we caught all the ocean breezes and the magnificent KA-BLOOSH, KA-BLOOSH of the Pacific. The ocean lulled us to sleep every night.

The worst part about the Grand Hyatt is the fact they designed its 52 acres in such a way that rooms are far, far away from the important spots: the sea, the pools, the bars, the restaurants, and the front desk. One time, I was chilling in our private cabana (free with honeymoon!) and ordered a mimosa. The lady said I needed my ID. Instead of marching the long and winding path back to my room, I decided to be a sad, sober panda. That's how far away it was.

But that story has a happy ending -- Fragrant Husband generously volunteered to go back for my ID. So I had three mimosas to honor his noble sacrifice. Least I could do.

Here are some of the fun things to do in Kauai:

^ Hike the Na Pali coast! Drive up north and head all the way west on the 560. When you run over hippies and chicken families, park your car and get started on the trail. You'll have breathtaking vistas such as the one above. You may also pass out from heat exhaustion. This trail is not for the weak of muscle.

^ Plunge into the ocean! Kauai has tons of glorious beaches, all state-owned, apparently. The one in the photo is off the Na Pali trail. We plunged in to cool off before the return hike. Some places have a mix of fresh water and saltwater near the shore, because of the runoffs from the falls.

^ Rappel down a waterfall after kayaking! Observe my dutiful L-form. I would do that again.

^ Hang upside down on a zip line!

^ Ride an ATV! ATV stands for "all-terrain vehicle," and it's basically the steroid lovechild of a golf cart and a motorcycle. The point of the activity was to try to hit as many mud holes as possible.

While on the ATVs, we stopped to check out the field from Jurassic Park, where Dr. Grant and the kids flee from a Gallimimus stampede. The tour guide made us pose for a picture with a plastic dinosaur (see upper left, above). I think Fragrant Husband and I did the best job pretending to be terrified. He's the one in the right, pointing, and I'm gripping his arm and yelling.

***

Activities not pictured:

• driving up to the Waimea Canyon, aka "the Grand Canyon of the Pacific"; 
• going on a helicopter ride around the island; 
• going on a boat ride with dolphins swimming right beside you; 
• visiting ancient ruins; and 
• shopping!

***

As for the food, well -- neither of us lost weight, let me tell you that. Kauai, and I imagine all of Hawaii, does fish really well. Most of the restaurants served the freshest fish that ever freshed. We had spectacular fish tacos, fish sandwiches, fish specials, sushi, and whatever else has fish in it.

Kauai also has a lot of cows, and one of our tour guides pointed to one and joked, "That cow is royalty! It's Sir Loin!" Har har. The point is, the cows there are grass-fed and delicious.

We went to a luau on Kilohana Plantation. Fragrant Husband took full advantage of the open bar. They would have lost so much money if they served whiskey. The food was great, especially the pineapple chicken. The performance started out cheesy, but the dances were amazing. The fire dancer was impressive. And the live singing and music throughout was damn good.

***

Numerous though they are, the chickens on Kauai were outnumbered by the Ilocanos. The Ilocos region, north of the Philippines, has a fine tradition of sending its men and women to Pacific islands. Everywhere I looked, my mother's people smiled back at me. I chatted with a bunch of them, and we shared our life stories, as per protocol.

According to census results, the population on Kauai is about 30% Caucasian, 30% Asian, and 25% biracial; and there are Pacific Islanders and Hispanics also! Quite a mix!

I blended right in. Most locals knew me as a proud daughter of Gabriela Silang at a glance. One lady at a restaurant told Fragrant Husband, "Filipinas are at the top of the hierarchy for wives! They're so loyal! They'll never leave you, even when times are tough!"

Well, mahalo! My wife cred seems solid!

***

In conclusion: KAUAI IS AWESOME!!!

Inevitably, I must end this blog post with a hearty, "Alooooo-HA!"

Honeymoon

In Kauai for honeymoon with Fragrant Husband. Back in June.

Fiancé Visits the Philippines

Day One - Today we exchanged money, shopped at Duty Free, and got massages. Less than twenty dollars for an hour and a half! Am liking it here already.

Day Two - Have lost Man Card. Fiancée talked me into getting a facial and eyebrow threading. Pain unbearable, surely some form of native torture to weed out the unworthy. Perhaps have not lost Man Card after all.

Day Three - Is it normal to have this much meat for breakfast? Apparently it is.

New Year's Eve - These people are insane. They bought "fireworks" in a box and lit the package without bracing it. It toppled over on its side and more than thirty explosively tipped thermite cannons shot out all over the place. They almost killed a dozen people, including us. I reacted sensibly and hid behind a tree. Now am laughingstock of family for some reason.

Day Five - Visited Grandma, family matriarch. She called me "guapo."

Day Six - Drove up the the highlands to look at partially submerged volcano. Ate at restaurant where they were out of everything. Good; have had too much deep fried pork anyway. Here is picture of me crushing volcano like the oily bohunk that I am.

Day Seven - Corregidor is awesome. Cannons! Barracks! Batteries! History! Man-squee! Saw one monkey.

Day Eight - Went to former U.S. base. Finally had proper American food: Texas barbecue! Clothes no longer fitting properly. Must be bloating from heat and humidity. Yes, that's it.

Day Nine - Drove through rural towns where streets can only accommodate one car. Progress interrupted by domestic dispute: household items being flung out onto street. Children swept everything over to the side so we could pass. Then, on way home, narrowly escaped multiple accidents as we sped down the unlit highway where pedestrians dressed in black nonchalantly stood on the road. Also, it seems overtaking on the right lane is common practice here. Fiancée is not allowed to drive, ever.

Day Ten - Last day here. Sadface. Not looking forward to wintry New England. Must get used to not having servants. How does one wash dishes again? First world problems so overwhelming. Will play on my iPad to feel better.

Nantucket!

(to the beat of 80's rap)

We ate a bunch of turkey

And the next day we went

To ride up on the ferry

It cost a couple cents.

We got down to Nantucket

And walked around a bit

Something about a bucket

So we sat down to eat.

He had his usual chowder

He thinks it tastes divine

I had bisque something-or-other

I'm sure it tasted fine.

Nantucket is a pretty place

With lots of scenery

And tourist traps in every space

For people just like me!

The day was freakish; yes it was!

The sun beat down like hell

And the fun sights in store for us

Included this golden bell.

We went down to the beach to see

The lighthouse, small and cute

We danced around, we frolicked, and we

Did our photo shoot!

 And lo, the sunset did come down

And the tree got all lit up

We rode the ferry back to town

I tried not to throw up*

*I have motion sickness.

All in all, I have to say

I had some grand ol' times

But next time that I go away

I'll do it with no rhymes.

Whew!

Almost...there...

JFK gives me only 20 minutes of wifi so I'll make this quick.

ZOMFG I'm so happy to be back in the US. I am skimpily dressed for the weather, with only a long-sleeved shirt and a vest that was too hot to put on back in Dhaka and Dubai. I've been traveling for 20 hours now and smell wonderful. Also, I just gobbled up a tuna salad so my mouth and my 'pits will have to compete for the honor of being Smelliest Body Part.

I cannot wait to pet my poor kitty, who has reportedly been meow-bombing at 5 am since I left. Come to think of it, she does that when I'm home, too...

CNN is covering the Japan disaster pretty thoroughly. I hope my friends in Tokyo are okay. Let's keep praying for everyone who's affected.

Day 2: Derp?

Not much to report. I went to the SIKROT location and got to know some of the people who work there, and my fellow interns. Yes, it seems I am the Crisis Intern, which is either awesome if you think about it, or I swear it's not what you think.

Anyway, the office sports a sweet view of the stadium where some ICC cricket world cup matches will take place. I read in the local paper that lots of people were howling mad this past week because they got vouchers from banks, but then couldn't get their tickets at the stadium because the ticket booths closed abruptly and without explanation. So there was a big bunch of people who had vouchers for tickets but couldn't get into the stadium! Eek! Fortunately, I think those were only the practice matches, but sports fans are nuts, in my limited experience. I say limited because I usually avoid sports fans.

I got home via CNG today for Tk100, which is more than what I saw on the meter, but the office peon -- they literally call him "peon" -- who got the ride for me had negotiated the price before I got there. I got home pretty fast (17 minutes!), which is good despite the usual terrors of insane Bangladesh driving -- and seriously, I say this as a confident Manila driver. I also got the chance to practice all my Bangla directional vocabulary: "dani"means right, "bame" is left, "shoja" is go straight, and "thamo" means stop. BAM. Also, "shoma" is mosquito, the evil creatures that somehow get into my bed. Despite the mosquito net. Derp?

Day 1: Dhoooooom

The morning of my first full day began innocently enough, with doves cooing gently outside my window. I had slept soundly and with nary a mosquito bite (thank you, mosquito net inventor!). I took a cold shower, lounged in bed to finish a book (it was a national holiday so all offices were closed), then decided to venture outside to search for the legendary King's Cafe, a Malaysian coffee house franchise.

Since I am adventurous (and my place is tucked away where no rickshaw dare enter), I decided to walk. Basically, I have three bustling streets to deal with: Airport Road, Kamal Ataturk Road, and the glamorous Road 11--don't let the name fool you! Airport Road boasts a pedestrian overpass (Allah be praised!), and I present to you a view of Dhaka traffic on a good day.

I was also pleased to note that the capital offers equal opportunity employment when it comes to backbreaking labor. These ladies were delighted at my not-so-ninja picture taking, and posed smilingly long after I was done.

I was also happy that I didn't get as many stares as I did in Chittagong; Dhaka is so much more cosmopolitan! Also, there are tons of foreigners here for the cricket world cup, so I am one among many.

As I walked back, I saw some irresistible Engrish. Are YOU shooting like a blind?

So anyway, near as I can figure out, this map accurately describes my current environs (image not to scale, and I have no idea where north is):

Finally, I got home and had a bizness chat, and then a bizness dinner, which looked like this:

Then I had coffee, so now it's 2 am and I'm typing like a madwoman. Dhoom, dhoooooom.

Epic Journey, Tapos Brownout

The red line of epic-ness!

Revelation: airline ticket counters are hot spots for human kindness. It all began as I checked in for the Boston-JFK leg of my epic two-day journey to Bangladesh. Evil officials bent on maximum inconvenience had decreed that passengers could only carry two items on the plane: a purse OR a laptop bag OR a tiny tiny carry-on bag. But I had all three! In response to my blank stare upon being told about the cabin limits, the lady told me to just stick my purse in my carry-on. Viola, it fit, and I walked away a proper citizen adhering to all flying rules.

Then, after magically heading in exactly the right direction to get to my terminal in NY, the ticket guy for Emirates weighed my carry-on and announced that it was overweight and would have to be checked in. BUT, my carry-on contained highly stealable items (TX calculators) that I'd been assigned to hand carry to the SIKROT location, so I fired back, "No, I need the stuff in there. Can I repack?" Ticket man raised an eyebrow at me and asked where I would put my stuff, at which point I revealed that I had a spare purse inside (I actually had two, because I believe in being Crazy Prepared). He looked searchingly at my face, with its winter hamster cheeks glowing with wholesome innocence, and said, "Just bring it." Yay!

Another revelation: sometimes, one can get really lucky. Case 1: out of habit, I'd headed straight for the terminal for Doha, only to realize about an hour later that I was actually going through Dubai this time. I speedwalked to the right place and arrived just as they called my row. Score! Case 2: I had no seatmates! And being a shorty, I was almost exactly the right height to stretch out fully on three seats with three pillows under my head. Gyahahaha!!!

Emirates is F-A-N-C-Y

Case 3: while wandering around Dubai airport, I realized I had left my iPhone somewhere! I dashed back to -- and I didn't know this at the time -- the wrong mobile/laptop charging kiosk and demanded, "iPhone!" to the young man occupying my previous seat (I thought it was, anyway). He obligingly offered me his own iPhone, and looked blank when I freaked out in response. The uh, holy men (guys in white robes) looked concerned as I muttered imprecautions under my breath, and they said, "No iPhone." I thanked them and suddenly realized -- I'd left it on top of the toilet paper dispenser in the ladies room!

AAAHHHH~!, I screamed in my head as I zoomed through the terminal. Below is a helpful diagram:

Long story short, no one in the ladies room stole my iPhone, hereby named iMelda for all the trouble she caused. The nice Pinay janitress was surprised: "Andami nang nagbanyo diyan ha!"

Case 4: and THEN, there was a big crush to get to the boarding gate, but my permanent expression of mild confusion (and blue passport) got me into the VIP line. Gyahahahahahaha!!!!

Engrish is truly global!

Case 5: finally, as we wearily trooped/shoved into the plane at 3:30 am (two hours delayed), a concerned husband, who'd been telling every stewardess he could collar where his wife and child were seated (apparently they were seated separately from him), turned around and smacked into my carry-on. I apologized, of course, and he declared, "I'll help you!" and hoisted the overweight sucker into a nearby overhead bin. Yay!

I arrived a couple hours late, spent the next hour in line at immigration, and another half hour waiting for my baggage. I got airport pickup by the wrong person who helped me find the right person, and the uniformed guys who were supposed to assist me at the airport somehow ended up with some snotty Columbia University students (not like me at all!). Then I finally got to have lunch with my dear colleagues here, went home, and...

May extra mattress pa!

...ay, brownout. I'm told it's brownout here from 6 pm to 1 am, but I guess someone lied, because I have power (=wireless internet) again. Yay!

And now, bed.

Off Again!

Aalis na naman ako! Magsusulat ako in Tagalog kasi sabi ni bosing lihim na PANUKALA ang dahilan ng aking paglakbay. Sa Linggo ang lipad ko. Isang buwan ako sa Bangladesh. Nakakalokaaaaa!

Datapwat matatanggap naman ito ng puso ko sapagkat nakakapagod din naman maglakad araw-araw sa napakadulas na kalye! Masarap daw ngayon ang panahon sa Bangladesh -- hindi ganon kalamig, at hindi ganon kainit.

May gantimpala sa kung sinong hindi nalito sa post na 'to.

Last Post

At Dhaka airport, waiting to board.

My colleagues had a dinner party for me last night. Happily, I evaded all attempts at having me make a speech. (Whenever someone nodded to me and said, "Speech?", I replied, "Yes, please do.")

Before dinner, T, my closest Bengali co-worker, gave me something in a plastic bag. I pretended to pass the bag around to ask for more gifts from everyone, and to my delight, most people did add something. Hurray! Today, my workmates at the office were also very kind and gave me presents. For some reason, every piece of clothing or accessory I received was purple.

I was told I had gotten thinner after my trip to Manila, and they were speculating that it was because the food in Bangladesh was too oily. Funnily, one of my friends from back home, at the first sight of me, stared at my chest and said, "Nagpabawas ka?" I swear, you put on a sports bra and suddenly you're skinnier...

Alas, I forgot to get henna (mehendi) on my hands before I left, which would have been truly South Asian. I did, however, manage to squeeze in one last threading session. Also, T taught me how to do my own threading, using a spool of rope that we use to tie boxes at the office. The lesson began with this conversation:

T: I do my own threading.
Me: Really?
T: Yes, except my eyebrows.
Me: Why not?
T: Why? Is there something wrong with them?
Me: There should be two.

Anyway, I can't wait to do my own threading!!!

As a final note: on the ride back home last night, I was asked a cheesy question: "What was the most important thing you learned during your stay in Chittagong?" to which I replied: "The same thing I knew all along, but reinforced: you have to have a sense of humor." Because otherwise, you'd go psycho. It's also easier to be generous and forgiving when you're laughing. Plus, I'm sure laughing is slimming and ab-forming.

Thank you for reading "Amar Bangla Na," my blog about my Bangladesh experience.

Travel: Unexpected Delights

After a delicious lunch at Max's (pictured: Platter Meal, with spring chicken, pancit, plain rice, and caramel bar), I bought some last-minute stuff, and then we were off to the airport, where unexpected delights awaited.

Delight # 1: WiFi at NAIA. See previous post.

Delight #2: I got upgraded to Business Class! Although your immediate instinct is to suspect me of flashing cleavage, no no, it was, in fact, my giant work laptop that attracted the stewardess and made her think I was a VIP. Which, in fact, I am. Very Impatient Person. Ask anyone.

The Business Class seats were like having your own private space capsule, plus you can stretch out your chair like a bed! Thanks to the free champagne, I only found this out thirty minutes before landing.

We were 2 hours behind schedule because of plane problems. I missed my connecting flight to Dhaka, but was presented with Delight # 3: a voucher for the airport hotel, plus free breakfast, lunch, and dinner! Eeeeee!!! Thus, unlike my fellow passengers, I did not launch into a screaming fit and demand to see a manager. I waited patiently (gasp) and politely asked to have my little maleta found so I could recharge my various electronics, and also get a change of clothes. (Although, actually, my suitcase has more pasalubong than clothes. Oh well.) Then I wandered over to the Regal Airport Hotel.

Delight # 4: Just look at my hotel room! On a "duh" note, I asked for a converter for US plugs, and it didn't seem to work, so an engineer (electrician) had to come in... and gently nudge the converter. That's all it took. Then I plugged in my monstrous laptop and discovered that the interwebz is not free here! So I ran downstairs and encountered a MASSIVE line of people, mostly flight crew from one of the stranded flights, who were trying to check themselves and the passengers in. We're talking at least 30 people. So I waited for about 15 minutes, and moved on to...

Delight # 5: The discovery that if you pop your head into the "Staff Only" room and are maniacally cheerful when asking for service, you will get what you want. I got the internet day pass in 2 minutes flat. And look, it works!

It's 3 am now. I guess I should hit the sack before getting up for the breakfast buffet. Life is good.