I know it's called the rainy season but bloody hell can it rain! Apparently, when I said that each day it gets progressively more humid until finally the clouds unloaded late afternoon, I was over simplifying things a tad. Things are definitely humid, though not everyday and not always as much. I also believe that it rains most at night, which is no bad thing as when it comes down it is huge. We're talking big heavy rain that blankets everything and makes such a noise you feel like you're living inside a kettle drum. It is deafening, as I found out when we tried to have our monthly meeting the other week and were unable to hear each other from 5 metres away. To counter this disruption our main training room has a roof covered with interwoven strips of tree that absorb the shock. Cunning eh?

Compared to the racket of the rain my week has been rather quiet. Last week was so full of important and productive meetings that this week was always going to seem empty in comparison. However, what I hadn't fully appreciated was how much I'd enjoyed having Jill and Anal around the office to work with and bounce ideas off. Neither of them was around at all, and with Habib constantly away at meetings, the office seemed quite a lonely place to be with not enough work to keep my mind off it. Fortunately, and only from this temporal point of view, I spent the best part of 2 days going to the LAMB hospital and back again. Fortunately it wasn't anything serious, and the bus journeys weren't as infernal as the last time, but still I could have done without.

What then was this week's ailment? Well, after the momentary joys of shingles I have now moved on to scabies! For those of you still reading and not fully aware of what this really means (and I didn't until last week), scabies is basically an intense itchiness of the skin, especially the arms, caused by tiny mites that live under the skin. In actual fact it is not the mites themselves that cause the irritation (literally) but their crap that provokes an allergic reaction in the skin. It's not particularly painful, and to be honest I was by and large unaware I had them for a good week or so. It was only need I was back in Dhaka last week and a fellow volunteer (thank you Tina!) said she had been diagnosed as having scabies after mentioning itchy arms to a doctor. I wasn't the only person to suddenly find the conversation interesting at that point either as one or 2 other volunteers shared having similar symptoms.

So, suddenly much more aware of the itchiness in my arms (which I'd compare to mild sun burn) I decided that I couldn't wait until I was back in the UK and chance the NHS. I also had the time and was glad of filling up a day going out and about the place. Anyway, off I went to the same hospital as before, met the same Bangladeshi doctor as before... and left with some anti-allergy tablets. But why I hear you cry? Well, the doctor gave my arms and hands a good look and couldn't find any of the tell tale signs of scabies i.e. small but distinct red spots between the fingers and around joints. His view, despite what I thought was a well-informed personal diagnosis, was that without anything clearer he couldn't be sure it was scabies and so prescribe the treatment which was not altogether pleasant. In other words, why go through the hassle of the treatment if you're not sure you've got it. I struggled to counter that argument on any scientific or logical grounds, so paid my 4 taka and left with a handful of pills to treat the itchiness.

As is now clear to you all the pills had no effect. In fact, I noticed my legs getting itchy too, and bizarrely enough it was worse at night. Things were still pretty dull at work, Habib was nowhere to be seen, so I set off back to the hospital using the tried and tested bus route. Once again I saw the same doctor, but this time I had a few red spots to show for my suffering and so was able to see an Australian GP. He was pretty good, said he himself got scabies 2-3 times a year through work and apologised for washing his hands after examining my skin. I personally would have objected more had he not washed his hands afterwards but you can get overexcited about personal hygiene out here. So scabies it was - official diagnosis from the resident expert! What then was this dreaded treatment? Well, unsurprisingly it involved applying a lotion all over from the neck down and leaving on over night. Doesn't sound too bad does it, but the stuff burns a bit, and trying to sleep in 30 degrees etc. with a sticky film lining your body is not pleasant. I tried distracting and tiring myself by watching Raiders of the Lost Arc on DVD, and by and large it worked. I've now got to repeat the same process a week later, and in between have all my clothes and bed sheets washed in warm water to kill off any mites and eggs that may be lurking therein. Would you believe that this was probably the first time many of my clothes had been warm-washed since leaving the UK in October?! I dream of having a washing machine, I really do.

One thing about going to the hospital was the way I, a white foreigner, was treated. I was immediately shown into a nice office to wait for a doctor, my wait was suspiciously short given the number of people I saw in the waiting area, and I was served immediately at the cashier and pharmacy counters with the clerks insisting that I hand my papers over the heads of others waiting in line in front of me. Now that's all quite nice, and a chap can very quickly get used to that sort of preferential treatment! However, putting on my sociologist's cap I'd suggest that herein lies one of this country's major problems. There is such a strong sense of hierarchy, of place and hence power, that most people live in a state of permanent powerlessness. This kills ambition, initiative, even the belief that things can be better and ordinary people can do something about it. This is the real tragedy, and it creates others. With the control of power comes corruption i.e. the exercise of that power to extract financial reward. Furthermore, as power is lucrative so people are prepared to go to violent extremes to keep it or get it back, hence the physical intimidation of voters around election time and the vigilante gangs that roam certain areas of the country taking law into their hands, apparently with the support of the police and government. And that's why it's so inspiring to meet groups of people that have decided to improve their lot and have got stuck in, often achieving remarkable results with virtually nothing.