Cliches and stereotypes have been of interest this week. By definition I suppose, cliches are based on fact. Whether that fact is still relevant, or as widespread, is of course debatable, but by and large there must have been something that was true to lead us to turn it into a cliche.

I experienced or had confirmed 2 good ones this week, the first being about the World Bank. Now, the World Bank is one of those lofty and extremely well funded international organisations that is supposed to help the poorer countries of this world become "developed". The cliche is that, like many other lofty and extremely well funded international institutions (the UN, European Commission etc.), the people taking huge decisions about the poor generally speaking never actually leave their very comfortable and air conditioned offices in the capital city or HQ to see what life is really like for the people they are officially supposed to be helping. This simplistic view was totally and utterly (and sadly) confirmed by a chap I know here from touch rugby who used to work for "the Bank" as it's rather ominously known. He even said, if I remember rightly, that he was actually discouraged from heading off to see the real world when he suggested going out into the country. Not an encouraging cliche I grant you but good to know.

The second cliche is about the level of beaurocracy in developing countries. I don't know about you but my vision of it all went something like this: Offices with ceiling fans whirring away, small people coming and going, no sense of organisation or order, piles of paper tied up with string everywhere, and somewhere at the head or centre of it all one man (probably taller and fatter than the others) who sits in a large office behind a big desk in front of rows of chairs and just signs documents that are gingerly offered by his minions. Well, on Saturday my boss took me to meet the district Chief Executive i.e. the highest ranking government official that directly manages the administration that covers our NGO. Everything, and I mean everything, that I've just described was true. Everything. It's like the procedures and systems that the British Raj introduced and used all those years ago have never been updated. Or perhaps more accurately, it's like they have never questioned this way of working to judge whether it's still effective and efficient given the current situation and needs. I sat in this office waiting for my boss to come back (he left the room muttering some story about sorting out a gun permit...) and watched the Chief Executive work. When he didn't have visitors he picked up a pile of documents tied up with red string from his desk, read a few lines, and if all was satisfactory he'd sign something (and it's numerous copies) and then literally throw the pile on the floor behind him! When all wasn't to his liking he would press a button attached to his desk to summon a minion to fetch someone or clarify something. It was fascinating, though I wish his English or my Bangla had been better so that I could have asked him more about it all.

Wondering about this week's photo? It was a classic moment Saturday early evening that I just had to capture. I'd been out all afternoon with my boss Habib meeting a few people around the district and got back in time to see some American wrestling on Bangladeshi TV. Let me dwell on that one for a while: TV here seems to consist of people singing on variety shows or really bad looking soaps. To find that in the midst of all these rather endearing yet primitive looking programmes there lurks such commercial Western crap as American wrestling (a 20-man over-the-top-rope battle royal no less) was odd to say the least (and of course I sat down and watched it - they were grunting in English). Anyway, after this cultural interlude I felt like doing some work, so I cranked up the laptop, opened up the report I'm writing and put on some music. There was very little noise in the building so within 5 minutes I had all the lads in my office gathered around this amazing little machine that displayed funny looking shapes (a flowchart) and played Western music (Hotel Costes vol. 3 if you're interested). They were fascinated. Back home, to generate the same effect you'd need a really funny photo that a mate had sent you by e-mail, or a compromising picture of the boss taken at the last office party. Now there's something to look forward to as Christmas approaches...