The One

Bangladeshi must have adopted people-based management.

First, there is the one in the hotel I stayed has the WIFI password. I was told to wait for his shift to get it. When I asked again the next morning, the other guy on duty said the one wasn’t in. Until now, I haven’t seen the one and I haven’t got the password. The WIFI is so precious that it needs to be guarded like this.

Second, there is the one in-charge of selling rocket steamer ticket. I walked to the BIWTC head office at Motijheel this morning. I thought I can easily get the ticket but I ended up getting lost in the so-called commercial district of central Dhaka. After wandering around Motijheel troubling more and more people, I finally reached the head office which is hidden off the main street. However, I wasn’t allowed to go in. They asked me to go Bangla Moto. What or who the hell is this Bangla Moto? I didn’t want to spend my whole day searching for this Bangla Moto. I relented and decided to get the 2^nd class ticket which was told to be able to get at Badamtoli which is 3 km away near the dirty Buringa river dotted with ghats.

Cycle-rickshaw jam

It wasn’t until I spoke to the person at Badamtoli office that every puzzle of information formed the full picture – I need to find the one called Mr. J to get the ticket. The one wasn’t in BIWTC head office when I dropped by at Motijheel this morning. He was at Bangla Moto. That was the reason I was told to go to Bangla Moto. Hahaha. Poor me to have thought that the head office has been relocated to Bangla Moto.

So, technically you need to find the one – the right person. Even if you get to the right office or counter but the right person is not there, you can’t get your stuff. What a hide and seek game. Hahaha.