From New Market, we got a CNG, and then a rickshaw, in order to get most of the way across Dhaka to a neighborhood called Gulshan. We were meeting a Western friend for drinks.
Gulshan, home to most embassies and foreign companies (as well as almost all of their white employees), is the richest area in all of Bangladesh. I must say that I never enjoy coming to the “nice areas” of these sorts of developing countries. In these areas, the street life that makes places like Bangladesh so compelling pretty much fades away, leaving only garbage and dust to fill the empty spaces.
As an American, I feel like I should more at ease in areas like Gulshan, but I never do. These areas carry with them an uneasy emptiness that for some reason makes me squirm. Meanwhile, behind high walls, valets, and locked doors, wealthy foreigners and Bangladeshi socialites make toasts and play tennis.
We were meeting this friend at a drink at a “club,” which is actually a pretty exclusive thing. Most embassies have a "club" of their own. There is the American Club, the British Club, the Dutch Club, and etc. However, you cannot enter these clubs unless you are a member or a member is there to sign you in. There are no day-passes.
Bangladesh is very Muslim, which means that there is no drinking. Anywhere. Er, well, almost anywhere. These clubs, who cater almost exclusively to white foreigners, contain pretty much the only bars in the entire city. Even in these clubs however, buying alcohol is still pretty sketchy. Members pay a tab monthly for what they drink as a shady addendum to their “membership fee.” Here’s a peek at how the 1% lives...
