No fireworks, food, or family

It's the Third of July and I'm stuck in gray, rainy, Dhaka. There is apparently going to be a big "Palit Family Hoe-Down" at our place in Grand Rapids. The party stars have aligned as they do every few years or so, and various sects of our family from both the States and the Subcontinent will converge in Michigan over the next few days. I'm sure it will be a weekend of barbeques, limbo, Mexican-flag shooters, hyper-competitive rounds of pictionary, and enforced fun. I am so jealous! I know most Americans have a "grin-and-bear-it" policy when it comes to family events, but they've never had an impromptu dance party of 30 in the living room (we always keep a rotating, multi-colored disco ball in our front shoe closet...you know, just in case). I miss my family, and I will be happy to see them all in less than a month.

I'm not doing much to celebrate "The Fourth." Most of my buddies here are Canadian, so it was hard to get anyone to go along with Aleem (a new Indian-American intern at BRAC) and I to the American club's 4th of July celebration. It was really just a huge buffet and speakers blaring ABBA tunes under a patriotically colored tent.

Anyway, two bits of interesting news...Ambassador HarryKayThomas has left Bangladesh to take up a high office in the State dept. He's reporting directly to Condi Rice these days! Also, the second Biman Bangladesh Airlines plane THIS YEAR slid off the runway while landing and injured passengers. They have like 4 planes in their entire fleet--all from pre-liberation war periods--and one of those badboys is carrying me to Kolkata in a few weeks. Maybe I will need that to say that Sura along with the air hostess...Bismillah ir-Rahman, ir-Rahim...

Anyway, I'm headed out. Must wade over to English class.

TKP