Did you know there is a puppy season? I didn’t. Apparently Bangladesh has one. Which is now. A few months ago I asked why, when I saw so many dogs around, that I didn’t see any puppies. Well, that’s because it wasn’t puppy season of course. I’ve mentioned before that Bangladesh is very much about seasons. And very specific about such seasons. When does mango season start? In 15 days. And when does litchi season end? In 10 days. Very specific.
Anyway, back to the puppies. There is one litter just around the corner from the office, on the campus. Such cute little things, and I’ve taken to go and watch them play/discover the world on my breaks/time-outs from the frustrations at work. But dogs here are certainly not cared for, are covered in fleas, are pretty mangy and really they pretty much just run wild. Many a night I get woken up by packs of dogs fighting and/or howling at the moon (or whatever dogs howl at). I haven’t actually seen a rabid dog yet (I’m hoping they are easy to spot, what with the foam at the mouth and all), and I have had my pre-exposure rabies shots. If I do get bitten by a rabid dog, I’ll still have to get post-exposure shots, which sound very unpleasant, but far less unpleasant than if I didn’t have the pre-exposure shots. Do you know that rabies is fatal without treatment. In all cases.
And the trip to the shop went well to return the bags. In typical Chakma fashion there was tea, biscuits and gossiping. Going back again to the shop tonight to pick up the (hopefully correctly made) bags. Bag exchange was followed by a trip to a near by temple. During which there again was tea and biscuits, and very randomly the head monk showed us a video of a suicide bomber blowing herself up. Sometimes my life here really is just a string of random and bizarre events.