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The sky hung low as I drove down the muddy road hoping desperately to make it back to my hotel before the rains came. It was the one thing I absolutely hated about coming to Bangladesh - the rains. I had been here twice before, both times in the rainy season. As I drove I wondered why Network planners never wanted us to work in the dry season. Contrary to what I had seen and believed, Bangladesh was a beautiful country and I really wanted to see more, but not when I had to take my life in my own hands with driving, the number of people on the roads AND the rains.

I had spent the day at one of the company's remote sites in the country and didn't feel like being stranded in the middle of nowhere. It was about two in the afternoon, but with the rain laden clouds, gave the impression of being evening, when I decided to pack it in.

I felt quite relieved when I turned onto the highway and felt solid asphalt beneath the tires and the Dhaka cityscape in view. I just spied a small gaggle of schoolgirls walking beside the highway when the skies opened. The wipers weren't able to keep up and, having narrowly missed a collision on my last trip, decided to pull over to see what was about to happen. The noise was almost deafening with the roof of the car acting like a drum skin for some giant. I saw, rather than heard the schoolgirls trying to scamper along but, unable to see through the fierce downpour, were having a hard time and I feared for their safety. I honked the horn and received a vile look. Realizing they couldn't see ...

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