Sunday, April 6, 2008

The Movies

Earlier this evening Bideshi 1 and I went with some friends to our first movie-at-the-theater movie in Bangladesh. The experience was much the same as going to the movies in the States, with a couple of notable differences. Like many theaters in the States, this one is located in a big mall. Bashundara City is the closest thing Bangladesh has to an American mall – it’s quite similar actually – with lots of small shops, a couple bigger ones, escalators, glass walled elevators, a food court, and a central atrium with eight stories of open air up to a glass ceiling. The theater set-up was also like most American theaters. Buy your tickets at the ticket counter, enter the main lobby and purchase snacks, then find your theater. But at the ticket window we had the choice of premium or normal tickets. The premium tickets cost a little more and seat you further from the screen so you don’t have to crane your head up to see the picture. As far as I could tell, all tickets were for assigned seats. We got premium tickets – just under ten dollars for four - pricey by Deshi standards, but a good deal coming from D.C. We were early for our movie so we bought some popcorn and hung out in the lobby for a little while. When the time came an usher came through the lobby telling everyone that Transformers would be starting soon in Theater 2.

Inside Theater 2 another usher pointed us to our seats. Shortly after, the screen lit up displaying the Bangladeshi flag. Most of the crowd stood respectfully (Diba and Srabone did not, so we didn’t either) and listened to a few stanzas of the national anthem. Then with no previews or anything the movie started and we were all transported to a world of explosions and cars that turn into talking robots and genius kids whose computers can do amazing things and there were fights and car chases and more explosions and all of a sudden the lights came on and the movie stopped…

People stood up and started walking out of the theater. Intermission? Yep, Diba confirmed that in Bangladeshi movies, there’s always an intermission, happens anywhere near the middle of the movie. Don’t need a break in the action. Nope, just flip the switch. Cut it off. Take a break…Well I did kind of have to pee anyway. So I joined the crowd of fifty or so other men who apparently felt likewise, and headed for the restroom.

Once again I was confronted with cultural differences concerning personal space. In a typical men’s room in the U.S. you have a row of urinals and a row of stalls. Often the two are directly opposite along a fairly narrow corridor – as was the case in this particular restroom. However, in my experience in the States when there’s a massive crowd and men are waiting for their turn, they mostly stand behind the invisible line that separates said corridor from the rest of the bathroom. Then, when a stall or urinal becomes available the next man in line steps forward and takes his turn. Well, not knowing any better, I managed to hold the crowd behind the invisible line for about twenty seconds, but when a urinal opened up some guy behind me just pushed right on past and went for it. Rude I thought, but then more guys walked around me and started queuing up behind each urinal. Okay, different rules. I can play that way. So I stepped up and took my spot behind some dude. Man must have had a bladder the size of a horse’s because about four people who had been behind me for the first twenty seconds got to go to their spots ahead of me. Eventually, the dude finished and stepped away. Immediately some other dude stepped up to take his place. What!? Am I invisible? He stepped right in front of me. I tapped him on the shoulder and gave him the look that says what the heyal do you think you’re a doin’. Oh, sorry he said and stepped back.

I’m still a little puzzled over the incident. Was I just receiving the minority treatment? I look different. I’m clearly a foreigner. And there have been other occasions – in the supper market for example – where I seem to be pretty much invisible when it comes to waiting in lines. Or was I – at a full arm’s length away – merely standing too far back from the dude in front. Clearly at that distance I was waiting for the john behind my back??? Heck if I know…

Anyway, I finally got to do my business, and made it back to the theater to find that the movie had started again. Bideshi 1 tells me there was no warning for that either. It came on as suddenly as it had stopped. Good thing I’d seen it before or I would have certainly missed important plot details and been intellectually fuddled and confused for the rest of the movie. Luckily my memory’s like a steel trap. So I was able to rejoin the action with minimal duress.

After many explosions and climactic fight sequences with much broken glass an digitized robot zheezowwchhzz zchunkk sounds the movie ended, credits rol…no actually the credits didn’t roll. After the final scene, where our heroes smooch on the hood of their car/robot friend in the orange glow of the late afternoon sun, the picture went off, the lights came on– no pretence here that people might actually want to see the credits - and we left the theater. Things to do. Places to be. People to see. Certainly no time to sit and read a big list of foreigner’s names - never mind that those people have just entertained us for the last two hours…

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