In planning my trip to China and Bangladesh, there were a myriad of details in setting up appointments every day, triaging schedules, making sure I had lodging and transportation in place… all for maximum efficiency. One false move and I could miss an important link in our road to global dinnerware domination.
In mid July, I emailed Ashek, the head of one of Bangladesh’s big porcelain factories. I stated that I would be in Dhaka and that I would like to see his factory on August 6th. Ashek confirmed quickly that he would arrange transportation from my hotel to his factory at 9 am on August 6th. I confirmed back to him, grateful at the comparative ease of setting up the visit.
After a week in China and 4 days in Bangladesh, my schedule was proceeding without a flaw. So, on August 6th, at 8:45 am, I proceeded to the hotel lobby, in anticipation of my meeting.
The lobby has a huge circular marble floor with maybe 10 “pleather” couches strewn about in clusters, each with two pleather chairs, a glass coffee table topped with a green plant shoot (origin unknown) in a big glass vase.
I looked around, kinda like the first day of school, to see if there was anyone who might be looking for an American like me. There were only 5 people in the entire lobby. Two Chinese sat on one couch talking back and forth. One super skinny local man in a dark blue suit sat in another, talking on his cell phone. He didn’t acknowledge me. And finally two well dress locals standing and talking.
“Must not be here yet” I thought, so I took a strategic position next to the skinny guy where I could see the cars approaching the pickup point.
Now, being a seasoned traveler, I surmised that my hosts would show up in the best borrowed car possible… an old Chinese trick to impress the “rich” American buyer. In Bangladesh, however, the best borrowed car might be a 2008 Hyundai SUV.
As 9:00 approached, I saw several potential cars approach the hotel entrance and stop. Someone would get out and enter through the hotel’s airport type security entrance. Each entrant, was required to put their bag on a belt that road through a scanner. They would walk through a detector, be patted down or hand scanned with a wand and then they’d enter the lobby.
Each time I thought “This is them,” someone from behind me would emerge and shake their hand and leave. Not my people…. This happened time and time again.
It’s now 9:15 am and I’m starting to think that I have it wrong. Maybe it’s tomorrow, not today. Maybe it’s 10 am and not 9…
I opened my laptop to check the confirmation. It took a few minutes to log onto the hotel’s Wi-Fi. I found the confirmation email… I check the date…. Okay, I have the right day and the right time.
But where’s Ashek?
I attempted to call his cell phone twice but couldn’t get through. Some Bangladesh recording that I didn’t understand answered. Then I remembered the “+” at the beginning of his cell phone actually was part of the number.
It’s 9:25 now…. People come, people go… No Ashek. There are now 8 people sitting on the couches and standing. Beside me is the super skinny local, still talking on his cell phone.
I played with my key pad and after a few attempts, I discovered that if I hold down the zero, the “+” sign comes up. I tried Ashek’s cell number again with the plus sign and but no one answers. I didn’t, however, get the recording. I tried again…. same result.
It’s 9:30 now… something is really wrong. I’m probably going to waste the entire day and may have to extend my trip to cover this factory… it’s one of the most important and I came all this way.
I’ll send him an email! I thought. I returned to my laptop and type out an email “Here at the hotel awaiting pickup…” I click send.
It’s 9:35 now and the initial wave of pickups are done.
I checked my email and I see there’s an unsent email in my outbox. WTF? Why won’t it send? I’m connected to the internet… I click send… I click it again…. I’m starting to sweat. It’s 9:45 am, way past the pickup time.
There are still people in the lobby but none acknowledge me. Should I walk around asking people? Surely they would come up to me… after all, I’m the odd one here. Wouldn’t I be obvious?
I decide to cough Ashek’s name…. sounds a bit like a cough. That’s what I’ll do.. I’ll cough his name and seek if anyone looks up at me.
I am so thankful that his name wasn’t the same as the man who checked me into the hotel. That man had a black plastic name tag with his name on it….Ashfuq. I’m not sure how that’s pronounced here but the way I would say it, might get me arrested!
So I cough “Ash…. SHEK”.., emphasizing the “SHEK”. I peeked around…. Not a look… no one even noticed so I cough it again a bit louder… “Ash…. SHEK” Still no one looks.
Where’s Ashek? It’s 10 am… My outbox still contains the email… I’m really sweating now….
Just then my phone rings…. I look down and see 12 or 15 numbers… a Bangladesh number….
The guy next to me, the skinny local in the dark blue suit, the same guy who I’ve been sitting beside for just over an hour… looks at my phone and says to me “Oh… you Mr. Jeff Richards?”
Help me out here people…. Is it me?
Untamed Traveler 