Dhaka, on foot

National Museum -  It was a little scary stepping out of the hotel grounds and heading to the National Museum, although it was only three blocks away.  There was a lot of curiosity and not all of it seemed friendly.  It took me a while to pluck up my courage and actually take out the camera. 


To decrease fatalities the city has erected street overpasses almost every block.  For a really crowded city this produces new surface area and we found people sleeping on the stairs and on the overpass as well as setting up stalls along the overpass and drying their laundry on the railing.

The museum was set in well tended garden with lots of flowering shrubs and one particular tree with very large painted stones underneath it. I couldn't determine whether this was some form of worship or modern art.  The contents of the museum were a fascinating mix of elementary school textbook and fabulous workmanship and art.  They had a large collection of Zainul Abedin's work which was stunning.  His sketches of the 1945 famine victims are very moving.  I wanted to buy postcards (no photography was allowed) and yet despite advertising and sample cards, there were only about 10 cards available (not the ones I wanted). 

The first room of the museum (and yes, there is a very definite order one is supposed to view exhibits in and I was barred from entering rooms out of order!) I entered had a large map of Bangladesh in it.The map was about 24' x 30' and raised three feet off the floor.  There were little red lights indicating towns all over the map and a museum-wallah sat behind the bank of 60-odd buttons ready to show us where what was with the same degree of professionalism and importance that someone at Mission Control might have.

I am guessing that the flipflop has its origins in Asia.  I saw an amazingly painful looking 19th century variation on the theme carved out of ivory.  It seemed rather a waste of skilled workmanship that there were curvaceous young woman sculpted into the soles of these shoes.  These were evidently never meant to be exported to Japan.

Another eye catching exhibit was of ektera.  One stringed quasi-violins. The base was a hollow dried gourd and the neck a split piece of bamboo that was joined to the outside of the gourd. Thanks to Felix we found out what it sounds like http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7ai6yj5tMTo and I think it could make a great 'beat' for Felix's next composition.

I spotted a 15th century, four foot high copper war drum that could probably have frightened people several villages away and the embroidery samples were a delight.

By far the most well presented and well maintained room was that of dark, highly polished carved wooden furniture.  There were elaborate husking pedals in the forms of 10 foot crocodiles, and raised beds with with ornate legs and canopy supports. My favourite had three foot high legs with a large animal foot at the base with an elephant on that and a lion on top of the elephant and a bird on top of the lion and finally the bed base on top of the bird, while the canopy would have been supported by the  four lovely corner angels with wings opening outwards who were again another four feet high.

ang

The Dhaka Sheraton - The hotel kindly had a sticker on the hotel wall pointing out the direction of Mecca.  They also had on hand at the concierge copies of most of the known holy books of the world.  One bathroom wall was devoid of any decoration or appliance except a rather primitive bottle opener about 3 feet from the ground and, in somewhat odd contrast, the minibar was empty unless we solicited its filling. Even though it was tempting to test the utility of the bottle opener, we resisted.

The hotel had decent gym facilities - one whole facility for men and another for women.  The hotel also boldly advertised a swimming pool. I would not have dared use it, except for Felix's strong presence with me.  The hotel provided no dressing gown but expected me to walk from the gym down a passage (also used by security staff and dining-kitchen people ferrying food) and then unwrap myself in full view of a bar and multiple groups of business men seated around the very basic pool.  As discreetly as possible I slunk into the pool and swam very close to my son.  I don't think they really wanted the pool used. It just added to their prestige.

On our way from the airport to the hotel we noticed a large sign advertising Sweetmeats.  Bert found this very odd (confusing sweetmeats with sweetbreads) and when I protested that it was merely another name for a bakery a serious debate started which ended in a 300 taka bet.  (Not too large a risk with about 70 taka = $1).  Wanting to cash in on my bet asap, I asked a young hotel minion in the hotel lobby what the word 'sweetmeat' meant.  What could I buy in that shop?  He thought very hard and then said he'd get back to me.  When I saw him next he had several addresses for me where I could buy sweetmeats!  I had not managed to convey my query clearly.  The issue was resolved, in my favor, naturally, at dinner the following evening.  In fact we should have guessed because there is an area in New Delhi called the Bengali market that is just FULL of shops selling sweetmeats (even if they don't call them that in New Delhi).  There seem to be many varieties of ladoo - small deep fried donut like sweet bread dipped into a delicious sugar syrup - with slightly different shapes and colours, of course, with different names.  My  earnest young hotel friend asked me each time he saw me whether I had found the shop yet and although I hadn't, I could at least honestly tell him that I had tried some of the sweetmeats and found them scrumptious.