This week's photo is dedicated to Peter who left BRIF on Wednesday. I may only have mentioned him a few times in my diary entries but that's not a fair reflection on his impact on me. He arrived at BRIF only a few days after I did, so while I only had a bit more experience of Bangladesh than he did his presence helped me in my adaption to this life. I find that when I play the role of he who understands or knows, or the one to be depended upon, it makes it easier for me to rise to the occasion and deal with whatever the situation is. We also had some very interesting chats about religion. Why? Well, it's something he's actually studied and that I know virtually nothing about but feel I should now I live in a deeply muslim country. Anyway, the photo was taken on Monday just before a cricket match with the lads at a nearby town (Pakerhat). Fans of "The 12th Man" will no doubt appreciate the quality of his Tony Greg impression, and no he didn't lose his keys.

The cricket match in question was billed locally as England vs. Australia (even the score board said so). I personally hadn't played for 17 years and to be perfectly honest I wasn't very good then. Despite this, I suspected my batting would improve with age due to greater patience and powers of concentration... Anyway, the cows, goats and drying washing were removed from the pitch, the boundary marked with branches, the wicket examined, empires nominated, and battle was done. We fielded first and I was asked to bowl 2 very patchy overs. At one point the captain helpfully suggested that I pitch the ball in front of the batsmen rather than aiming for them - not good. My batting went much better, and much to the delight of the not inconsiderable crowd drawn to this international sporting event, I dismissed my first ball for 4. I went on to score a controlled and commendable 15, holing out hooking a loose ball straight down the throat of square leg. In the end we crushed the opposition, and I was even moved from number 5 to 3 to ensure I batted such was the scoring of our openers against some rather quick bowling. I even had the crowd chanting my name when I resumed batting after a drinks break. Anyway, I promised I'd go back to play again, and there was even talk of possibly playing footie as well... As an aside it's been 6 days since I played and I still have cramps in my left shoulder blade, apparently due to employing some underused and hitherto unsuspecting muscles.

After that trip back to boyhood sport I spent some time this week tidying my office and bedroom. The impetus for the former came from having a lack of filing space and needing to bring an old shelf unit back into operation. Once I'd finished moving furniture and sorting through old documents (finding a large spider in the process) Jabor the caretaker gave the room a sweep and unearthed a dead petrified frog under my desk. Seeing as I'd already moved my desk back in December the frog must have come in and died over Christmas, which is a comforting thought I'm sure you'll agree. As for the bedroom, the motivation to rethink things came from Habib offering me the use of a spanking new Samsung colour TV. I was blissfully unaware BRIF even had a spare TV in stock, and only found out when Habib asked Jobar to get it out to show his latest home cinema efforts on. I'm now curious to find out what other goodies are hiding in their boxes in locked store rooms around the place, but I'll cover that if and when I get stuck into the fixed asset management process...

Just to clarify matters about the TV, I don't want it to watch TV as such. What I mean is that I can only just pick up 2 channels here - Bangladeshi TV and an Indian channel in hindi. Both are absolutely dreadful (though the indian one does show cricket occasionally) and in languages I can't understand. The point of having the TV is to watch VCD's and DVD's on a big screen with decent speakers, and I'd been saving some DVD's for just this sort of opportunity. Back before I moved here I bought the entire first season of "The West Wing" for 7 quid in Dhaka and have been itching to get stuck in ever since. So far I've watched 15 episodes in 4 nights - yep I'm hooked. What I love is of course seeing such an interesting organisation as the White House from the inside, but above all it reminds me of when I worked for IBM.

That is, I realise, an odd thing to say but bear with me. My work with IBM was all done in projects, in teams, with tough deadlines and hard-nosed experts and directors in charge. The people were generally competent, and if they weren't there was always someone somewhere else internally who you could contact for help. The team work was extremely intense with long adrenalin-fuelled hours and difficult customer showdowns at almost every turn. So, when I see how the senior staff work in The West Wing I think of all that, of how exciting it was at the time, how glad I am I experienced it and worked with the people I did. I also remember why I got out - the long hours, no life outside of work and colleagues, not to mention the egos and power struggles. What separates my experience from life in The West Wing however is that THEY are working to make a difference for their people, THEY are having an impact on things that matter, and I with IBM or Lafarge just wasn't. It makes me wonder whether I could "enjoy" the high-pressure lifestyle if it was for a good cause, something I wanted to work hard at. Even then I don't think so, as I need a healthier balance in my life and fulfillment from things other than work. Feel free to remind me that I wrote this if ever I mention accepting that sort of job in the future, for my own sake.

Finally this week, in between marathon West Wing viewings, I was "treated" to some local music. Basically, BRIF has been running a volunteer work camp these last 10 days and the closing ceremony was Friday night. For those who may be interested in this sort of thing, a work camp is basically young-ish people giving a week or so of there time to help repaint a primary school or some other worthy activity (details on BRIF web site). BRIF manages to attract international volunteers, and in addition to Peter there were 4 South Korean students this time who worked along with 5 Bangladeshi lads.

Anyway, to finish off the week there was a certificate award ceremony (and yes I was yet again hauled up onto the front table and asked to make another bloody speech even though I had absolutely nothing to do with the camp) with a local group of singers and musicians to play afterwards. To say I've never been a big fan of world music would be an understatement, so when they started their whiny incoherent unstructured wailing I was looking for an excuse to find the safety of my room and the White House. During the 3rd "song" Rabi turned to me and exclaimed "oh, classical music!". I of course couldn't make out any difference, so was aghast when, in reply to my most sarcastic tone enquiring if the 1st two songs had been modern ones, he replied yes. It's all very nice experiencing local culture, but it was the sort of evening where, if you're with a few friends and some beer, you'd be standing at the back shouting "Do you know any Kylie?" before falling about the floor laughing while the whole room looks on in total incomprehension. Or maybe that's just me.