Friday, February 23, 2007

Kathmandu and Beyond

As part of his new job, Patrick has switched portfolios with his boss in Dhaka. Patrick’s boss will now handle the Bangladesh portfolio while Patrick will be responsible for Nepal. On 11 February (after a two-and-a-half hour flight delay) Patrick went to Kathmandu for a week to take over and introduce himself to his new colleagues. They’d all seen him before (in June 2006), but this was his first visit as the Contracting Officer responsible for their work. It was a busy but very successful week and a good start to his new job.

Jennifer came up in the middle of the week to join Patrick for a short vacation. She had planned to visit Kathmandu during the days while Patrick was in the office. As it turned out, the weather didn’t cooperate. It was cold & rainy almost all week – except for the one day when the Kathmandu Valley experienced its first snow in 63 years!

Fortunately the weather changed for the better once we started our vacation in earnest. On Friday we flew from Kathmandu to Pokhara, a town in the center of Nepal, just south of the Annapurna Range of the Himalaya. Our flight was delayed by almost three hours by fog, but the weather was warmer and sunny when we hit the ground in Pokhara. We were met at the airport by a forest green Land Rover Defender, which drove us up to Tiger Mountain Lodge.


Tiger Mountain Lodge was built ten years ago and was the brainchild of a British Army officer and mountaineer who had settled in Nepal. It sits about 40 minutes’ drive and a few thousand feet above the town of Pokhara, with a magnificent view of the Annapurna, including the holy mountain of Machhapuchhre (“Fish-Tail”). We had our own cabin with a lovely view of the valley.

A big thunderstorm rolled through on our first afternoon, so we stayed in our cabin, reading Michael Palin’s Himalaya on a bed with a bedspread made from the same cloth as Buddhist monks’ robes. One of the lodge staff brought us tea and biscuits around 5:00pm (in the middle of the pouring rain!). In the evenings, the lodge has a cocktail hour around a large open fire in the main building, followed by a three-course dinner in the dining room.


Although it sounds – and felt! – very luxurious, the lodge was surprisingly simple. It’s run on an ethos of sustainable tourism and is dedicated to minimizing negative impacts on the local environment and maximizing the benefits to the local community. For example, all of the soap is handmade, herbal soap from Nepal; hot water is available for only two hours in the morning and two hours in the afternoon (and is supplied by solar power); small kerosene heaters are used for the cabins and are run for only a few hours in the early evening (thus the thick bedspreads!); and almost all of the food served is grown by local producers in the surrounding villages. The staff was all local, with the exception of the General Manager, Marcus, a Brit who’s lived in Nepal for more than 20 years.

On our first full day we went on a seven-hour hike with Ollie and Georgie, two Brits who work in Kathmandu, and our local guide, Hari. Hari has worked at the lodge since it opened and is a master birdwatcher. We lost track of the many different kinds of birds we saw – kingfishers, kites, kestrels, sunbirds, egrets, and many more. We also saw water buffalo (raised for meat, since the Hindus in Nepal don’t eat beef) and even a few macaques prowling the rice paddies for discarded grains.



As part of the hike we went through a Gurung village. The Gurung, one of the ethnic groups of Nepal, form the overwhelming majority of those Nepali men who fight as mercenaries in the British Army in the legendary Gurkha regiments. The selection of the Gurkhas is a brutal test of physical fitness and discipline – there are slots for only 10% of those who apply every year. A Gurkha soldier makes the same take-home salary as a regular British Army soldier, which makes him a rich man back home in Nepal.

The village we visited was almost certainly the beneficiary of one of these soldiers. Everyone we met was extremely welcoming and friendly – pretty surprising, when you think about how often they must get overdressed Western hikers tromping through their front yards!

We sampled some raxsi, their local moonshine. It was remarkably good! (What is it about mountain people and moonshine?) Sadly for us, Hari was the only one who knew to bring an empty bottle, so he took home a fifth for about fifty cents.









The hike wasn’t very strenuous, but we did notice that we hadn’t worn our hiking gear in a couple of years. Of course, we were put to shame by the 70-year-old women striding past us in their plastic flip-flops, and the little kids scampering about in bare feet, just like the proverbial mountain goats. The last half-hour of the hike saw us climb Tiger Mountain on a near-vertical trail, gaining about 1000 feet in 30 minutes. We were all ready for a shower and a soft bed after that!

Two of the other guests at the lodge were a pair of real characters from England, Jenny and Carol. They were both in their sixties, travelling without their husbands for the first time ever, and having a grand time. We had a lot of fun chatting with them over dinner and hearing about their plans to go south to Chitwan National Park, one of our future vacation destinations, to ride elephants and look for rhinos and tigers.


Every morning we woke up to a spectacular view of the Annapurna. Machhapuchhre is the pyramidal mountain (it has a second peak, not visible here, which gives it the name “Fish-Tail”). As it is considered holy, it may not be climbed, and no one is reliably known to have reached its summit. As we watched the morning sun bathe it every morning, it seemed right that it hadn’t been “conquered.” It seemed a privilege just eat breakfast in front of such a beautiful panorama.


On our last day at Tiger Mountain we went for a shorter hike with Hari, passing mostly through villages and the omnipresent, terraced rice paddies that line every slope that gets reliable sunshine. After one last magnificent lunch of Nepali food and a fascinating conversation with Marcus about Nepali politics, we bid a reluctant farewell to the lodge and headed into Pokhara town.



Pokhara is a popular launching point for mountain trekkers. As a result it seems to combine some of the worst aspects of beach towns (the long strip of overpriced souvenir stores and tacky bars) and mountain towns (henna, hemp, etc.). After being overwhelmed by the silent majesty of the Annapura from Tiger Mountain, Pokhara seemed crass and dirty. Still, there’s a beautiful lake there, the second-largest in Nepal, and our room sat right on its edge. After walking around town on our first day there, we spent a lovely morning paddling around an island temple and enjoying the beautiful weather before catching our flight (delayed by two-and-a-half hours) back to Kathmandu.

Back in Kathmandu we stayed at Dwarika’s Hotel, a one-of-a-kind “living museum” and a testament to what a dedicated person can do to make a difference. The hotel is made up of woodwork rescued from demolished old buildings in Kathmandu and set into reproduction brick buildings. Many of the windows, doors, and other wooden pieces are 500 years old or older and represent some of the finest examples of Nepali architectural woodcarving still in existence. The founder of the hotel didn’t want them in a museum, believing that the sterile environment would definitely kill the tradition of Nepali woodcarving. Instead, he started a hotel to display his treasures and a workshop to teach promising young craftsmen how to restore old pieces and create their own masterworks. You can learn more here: http://www.dwarikas.com/.

On our last day in Kathmandu we roamed around the city together before our flight back (delayed by three-and-a-half hours). Although Kathmandu is poorer per capita than Dhaka and shares many of the worst traits of South Asia (filth, noise, chaos), it’s somehow easier to take than Dhaka. We’re looking forward to many more visits to the city and to the rest of Nepal. Why not come with us sometime? (We promise to keep the snake charmers and Maoists at a distance!)

Schoolgirls, Spitfires, and Street Dogs


It’s been a while since we’ve posted, so here’s a summary of some of the things we’ve been up to over the last couple of months.

First off, it seems that Patrick’s transfer to his next post is all but approved. Assuming that all of the paperwork comes together (never a certainty in the Federal Government!), we’ll be moving on 12 April to ... Bangkok, Thailand! Patrick has been working on this since last summer, and we’re very excited that it finally seems to be happening. Bangkok is a fascinating, extremely livable city and one of the best posts USAID has to offer. Patrick will be taking the portfolio for Nepal with him to Bangkok, so he’ll be travelling regularly to Kathmandu, starting immediately. Jennifer hopes to be able to continue with her job, but if she can’t, we’re hopeful that she’ll have many interesting options in our new home.

Jennifer has been working with a group of teenaged girls here in Dhaka, trying to get them set up into an organized group for vocational training, educational assistance, and mutual support. She has been able to help a couple of local Bangladeshi women (Martha and Dolly) set up a group called the Rosey Foundation. Taking a day off from work, Jennifer was able to visit the facilities that Dolly and Martha have rented to host the girls during the day.


As you can see, the place needs a little work, but for Bangladesh, this isn’t such a bad set-up. There are about 30 girls who come here during the day to learn embroidery, eat lunch, and enjoy each others’ company. Eventually Martha and Dolly hope to have some sort of schooling available for the girls as well.

For most of these girls, this is the best option available to them. A girl between the ages of 14 and 20 in Bangladesh is under serious pressure to either get married or find a job to support her family, usually in one of Dhaka’s many garment factories. Often girls end up working 12 hours per day, six days per week, to pay for their brothers to go to school. Girls are seen as something of a burden – if they are to be married, the girl’s family has to pay a dowry to the groom’s family, since they are taking on the “burden.”

On this day, the girls were all happy to have a visit from their “sister.” Jennifer brought chocolate chip cookies that Shanti (our housekeeper) made, and – since it was her birthday – the girls sang the LOUDEST rendition of “Happy Birthday” that Jennifer had ever heard!


We hope that the Rosey Foundation will find its feet and be able to offer these girls an opportunity to develop the skills to help them support themselves and their families. It’s been a shaky start, but we’re trying to stay optimistic in the time that remains for us here in Bangladesh.

One of Patrick’s colleagues recently retired from USAID after 19 years. A group of us decided to throw a party for her, inviting all of our USAID colleagues to join us in sending her off. Knowing that she loved movies from the 1930s and 1940s, we made a theme party, called “The Last Flight from Dhaka.” We celebrated on the rooftop with costumes, signature cocktails, great food and some lovely swing music (with a dance floor!). It turned out to be one of the best evenings any of us has had in Dhaka. We had a lot of fun putting together our costumes from bits and pieces we had in our closet.


Life with Bhago continues as usual. He can be a very sweet dog when he wants to be ...


... but bathtime is not one of those times. We don’t know why he hates baths so much, but it’s gotten worse over the last few weeks. Finally we’ve had to resort to a more – how should we put this? – gladiatorial approach....


Yes, yes – we know. It’s not the nicest way to bathe him, but it’s fast & easy and no one gets hurt.

So that’s the latest from Dhaka!

Tuesday, January 02, 2007

Weihnachten in Deutschland

We decided that we both needed a dose of cold weather, Christmas markets, Gemütlichkeit and good friends for the holiday season this year, so we headed to Germany.

We arrived in Frankfurt after an 11-hour flight from Dhaka to London and another hop to our old home. It was cold – right around freezing – but we’d managed to scavenge enough layers from storage to keep ourselves warm (if not fashionable). We went to dinner in our old neighborhood and spent a little time walking around, overwhelmed by nostalgia.

The next day we stopped by the Frankfurt Christmas market and visited our friend Millicent in her hair salon. She had no idea we’d be in Frankfurt, so she was extremely surprised when we walked through her door. Fortunately her customers were patient enough to wait for another hour or so while we visited. We finally tore ourselves away to jump on a train and head for Munich.

In Munich we visited Jason, Lili, and their two-year-old son, Constantin Paul-Friedrich. CPF’s second birthday was the day after we arrived, so we celebrated with him and four of his small friends, plus their parents. Jason & Lili’s usual hospitality was in full swing, (huge breakfasts in the morning, great German dinners at night) and we got to see Drei Haselnüsse für Aschenbrödel, a mid-1970s film version of Cinderella that’s the German equivalent of It’s a Wonderful Life.
We also took plenty of time to stroll through Munich’s Christkindlmärkte, including the new medieval Christmas market. (Just the place to find that crossbow you’ve always wanted.)


After three days in Munich, we went back in the direction of Frankfurt to Bad Homburg to stay with the Bealls – Ben, Mary, six-year-old Jack, three-year-old Sara, and Max (the black, fuzzy one).


We had plenty of work to do on a special Christmas surprise: Fort Beall, constructed especially for the kids’ playroom. Santa did a great job constructing the fort, but it still needed sanding, painting, carpeting, and decorating. (Actually, the hardest part was making sure the kids didn’t see it until Christmas morning!) Work paused for us to go to Christ-the-King (our former church home) for a Sunday morning service, a wonderful lamb dinner with the Beall’s good friends Margareta and Nora, and the children’s Christmas pageant in the afternoon. We gave up around 1:30am, but Ben finally finished the fort around 2:00am on Christmas morning.






Christmas morning with Jack & Sara was great fun. We had a lovely, lazy day indoors, looking out the windows for snow (Ben’s sure he saw one flake), playing with the kids and cooking a fantastic pork tenderloin dinner. Our friend Claudia came over with seven-year-old Benedict in the afternoon – we all had a lovely day, and young ones & old ones slept well on Christmas night.


After another day in Bad Homburg, we decided we needed some private time for our third wedding anniversary. Jennifer had the inspiration that we should go someplace we’d never been before, so we took the train back into Bavaria to the more than 1000-year-old city of Bamberg. Bamberg was not bombed during the Second World War, so the old part of the city features literally hundreds of buildings that are up to 800 years old. We managed to find a fabulous place to stay at the Bamberger Hof Bellevue hotel, who set up a little anniversary package for us.


We spent many happy hours strolling around, visiting churches, eating great Wurst mit Sauerkraut, drinking the specialty Rauchbier (smoked beer) of Bamberg, and generally being romantic and stuff.


Bamberg calls itself the “Krippenstadt” (City of Nativity Scenes), so there were Nativities from all over the world to be seen in almost every shop window, as well as in churches and museums. While we were there, Bamberg had a special celebration to commemorate the 1000th anniversary of its bishophric. Kids dressed as the Three Wise Men came from all over Germany to sing and parade through the town.

We stopped by an art dealer to poke through some of their treasures when Jennifer found something extraordinary: an incredibly detailed, hand-colored, three-dimensional-map of Frankfurt from 1567. After talking with the dealer and taking a couple of hours to think about it, we decided it would be an ideal anniversary present. As we explained to the people in the shop, Frankfurt doesn’t really have the reputation of being a romantic city, but for us, it doesn’t get much better.





We also spent an evening at the Bamberg Marionette Theatre, where we saw a folk version of Doctor Faustus. This was no theater for little kids! The puppeteers use an original 19th-century marionette theater together with their own handmade puppets. After the show, we got to go backstage to see how it all worked. The puppeteers are immensely proud of their theater, which (among other tricks) features a five-story (scale) drop. As our hostess told us, “Only we and the Metropolitan Opera in New York can sink a whole ship on stage.” It was a weird and wonderful dose of culture to round out our trip.

The next day we headed back to Frankfurt for one last visit. We had dinner with Allan, the priest who married us, and his family. His nephew and a friend were visiting, so we had a lovely conversation to go along with the delicious meal Gretchen had prepared. We all agreed that it was a little strange to be there – even though we’d been gone for three years, it felt like we’d never left.

Alas, reality set in at 5:00am the next morning when we got up to go to the airport. We seem to have made flying on New Year’s Eve a tradition – this was the third time we’ve done it. Thanks to the efforts of a friendly German lady in Frankfurt and a friendly French lady in London, we were upgraded from “economy” to “economy plus,” and landed safely in Dhaka at 1:30am on New Year’s Day. Bhago was very happy to see us, and while we can’t say that we’re exactly happy to be back in Dhaka, we’re definitely rejuvenated and ready for more of our continuing adventure.

Thursday, December 14, 2006

Advent in Dhaka

So Christmas is coming and we're all trying to get into the Christmas spirit. Shanti and her grandson have been busy baking ...



... and we've had some of our young Bangladeshi friends over for treats and decorations ...





... while Bhago explores the outer limits of what it means to be "naughty."



We're off to Germany to see friends for the holidays, so we'll be back with an update as soon as we return.

Merry Christmas!

Saturday, November 25, 2006

Och!


We decided we had one last ball in us for this season, so on the 24th of November we went to the Dhaka Caledonian Society's St. Andrew's Ball. We hadn't thought about it until the Chieftain of the DCS called Patrick at home about two weeks before the ball to ask him if he wanted tickets. It was good she'd called -- Patrick got six tickets for us and two other couples, and the Ball ended up being completely sold out. We went with Patrick's colleague Angela and our friend Jeremy, who's here working on a USAID project, and met Jennifer's colleague Wendy and her husband Ifthekar there.

We arrived just in time for the Selkirk Grace, the traditional Scottish prayer before meals. After a small appetizer, the haggis was brought in to great fanfare. We're not sure that the haggis is a standard part of every St. Andrew's Ball (it's more of a Burns Supper thing), but it was welcome, anyway. Burns's "To a Haggis" was recited superbly, and everyone who wanted some got a big plate full of the "great chieftan o' the puddin'-race." Then came the main course (for those who still had room!).

The British High Commissioner led us all in the Loyal Toast (short & sweet: "Ladies and Gentlemen, The Queen."), then gave a reasonably funny speech about the Scots. The Chieftain spoke next, and then it was time to dance! A band from Aberdeen had flown in just for the occasion, so we danced all sorts of set dances: the Eightsome Reel, Strip the Willow, the Cumberland Reel, and the Military Two-Step, just to name a few. A rousing chorus of "Auld Lang Syne" rounded out the evening.

It was a great muckle occasion and a worthy finish to the 2006 ball season in Bangladesh. Och!

Saturday, November 11, 2006

Let's Have a Ball!

With the cooler weather (it gets down to about 70F at night these days), the ball season in Bangladesh has begun. There are lots of different parties to choose from, from the UN International Ball to the Dhaka Caledonian Society's St. Andrew's Ball (dress code: Scottish formal) to the Black & White Ball held by the International Centre for Diarrhoeal Disease Control, Bangladesh (but everyone calls that one "the Diarrhea Ball").

The first ball of the season this year was the Marine Corps Ball, put on by the Marine Corps Detachment ("Det") of the U.S. Embassy to celebrate the 231st anniversary of the Marine Corps. This was a black tie affair, so we all had a chance to dress to the nines. Of course, being the Marine Ball, it was a night full of tradition. After cocktails, we sat down to watch the presentation of the colors, a video presentation by the Commandant of the Marine Corps and a brief speech by the U.S. Ambassador. The traditional cake-cutting ceremony -- done with a ceremonial saber -- followed; cake was served to the guest of honor (the Ambassador), then the oldest Marine present, then the youngest Marine present. The Det Commander, Gunnery Sergeant Bryant (our next-door neighbor), then introduced the members of the Det. However, the Marines couldn't be found. Gunny sent someone to find them. After several tense, silent minutes, the Gunny's dispatch returned: "Gunnery Sergeant, I found them!" "Where are they?" "Gunnery Sergeant, the Marines are in the bar!" Thus was another Marine Ball tradition fulfilled.


The next night, the Australian High Commission and the New Zealanders (who don't have formal diplomatic representation in Bangladesh) held their annual Glitter Party, which couldn't have been more different from the Marine Ball. The Glitter Party is a costume ball, and everyone is invited to perform a skit or other dramatic routine. Men in drag, women with facial hair, raunchy musical numbers, and the bizarre & unusual are not only expected, but encouraged. Our table didn't perform a formal skit, but we did have a dramatic entrance. We went as the national airline of Bangladesh, Biman Bangladesh. We had a drunk pilot, a blind mechanic (Jennifer), a couple of hapless flight attendants (one seven months pregnant), two clueless Western tourists, an abusive baggage handler, a corrupt Biman executive with money flying out of his pockets, and a giant cockroach (Patrick).



Many of the sketches were political in nature, as all of Bangladesh is on edge awaiting the parliamentary elections next month. However, the evening was dazzled by a (mostly) non-political procession of pigs in tutus, who performed "Swine Lake." A great local soul band (really!) performed, Saddam Hussein danced with "Make Love Not War" hippies, long-winded speeches were kept to a minimum, and a great time was had by all. Everyone needs to let their hair down every once in a while, and our friends in the Southern Hemisphere gave us a great chance to do just that.

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

Bangladesh By the Numbers

I know, I know -- there are lies, there are damned lies, and then there are statistics. Still, a few basic numbers can tell you a lot about a place. Here are some numbers about Bangladesh:

* Bangladesh is home to around 147 million people.

* Bangladesh is one of the most densely populated countries in the world (behind only city-states like Singapore ). A population about half the size of the U.S. population lives in a country that’s a little smaller than Iowa.

* At current birth rates, Bangladesh’s population will exceed 220 million by 2050.

* With 700,000 people moving here every year, Dhaka is the fastest-growing megacity in the world and will be the second-largest city in the world (after Mexico City ) by 2015.

* Dhaka has close to 9,000 people per square kilometer. By comparison, Patrick’s childhood home of Prince George County, VA has 43 people per square kilometer.

* One-third of the population is 14 years old or younger. That’s 49 million children.

* Thirty-six percent of Bangladeshis live on less than $1 (67 taka) a day.

* A kilogram (2.2 pounds) of uncooked rice costs 20-40 taka, depending on quality.

* Rent for a 10-foot-by-10-foot concrete room in a communal slum neighborhood in north Dhaka costs 4,000-6,000 taka per month.

* Recently an increase in the monthly minimum wage for garment workers in Bangladesh was proposed: $25 (1675 taka).

* At the standard work schedule of 10-12 hours a day, six days a week in a garment factory, the new minimum wage equates to around 10 cents an hour.

* Ninety percent of Bangladeshi garment workers are women.

* Ninety percent of births in Bangladesh occur in the home.

* Almost ninety percent of births take place without a skilled attendant.

* About 12,000 Bangladeshi women die in childbirth every year.

* Eighty-eight of 1,000 Bangladeshi children die before the age of five, mostly from diarrhea or acute respiratory infections. Half of those deaths are newborns.

* Bangladesh has one of the highest tuberculosis rates in the world, with about 300,000 new cases reported every year.

* HIV prevalence is at less than 1% among most high-risk groups, except for intravenous drug users, where the prevalence is 9%.

* Bangladesh is 90% Muslim, with the rest being Hindu (and a scattering of Christians, Buddhists, and animists).

* Only 43% of all Bangladeshis can read and write.

* Bangladeshis working in other countries (mostly construction workers in the Middle East) send more than $1.5 billion dollars back to their families in Bangladesh every year.

* About 300,000 Bangladeshis use the Internet.

* More than three million Bangladeshis have mobile phones.

* There are 400,000 bicycle rickshaws in Dhaka.

Friday, October 13, 2006

Dengue Season Is Here

Dengue fever has hit India with a vengeance over the last month. So far, more than 4000 cases and 89 deaths have been reported. As dengue survivors, we're not looking forward to the next few months. Thanks to the post-monsoon puddles, the Aedes mosquito that carries dengue has lots of breeding opportunities. So you can be sure that we're using DEET, wearing socks (mosquitoes, like Victorian gentlemen, are attracted to ankles), and emptying any standing water we have around the house. (Too bad there's a giant lake less than half a block away....)



The Dengue
Patrick J. Wilson
(with apologies to Mr. E.A. Poe)

Once upon an Eid-ul-Fitr, while I dined with my friends so dear,
Tasting many a quaint and curious bit of Bangladeshi treat,
While I ate up foods exciting, suddenly there came, alighting,
A mosquito gently biting, biting on my naked feet.
“’Tis some mozzie,” I muttered, “biting on my naked feet –
Just because my blood’s so sweet.”

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bright November,
And each Mosquito Coast member cast its whining through the air.
Little did I know of dengue; – so often did the doc harangue me
To prevent bites that would pang me, pang me with despair,
Into rough and racking fevers that are, sadly, not so rare –
But, ignorant, I didn’t care.

Eight days later fever got me; I felt like someone had shot me,
Shot me full of poison to make me weep and moan;
But the fact was I’d been infected, and so gently was my foot injected,
And so faintly can it be detected, detected when the bite strikes home,
That I scarce was sure she bit me – Flavivirus was her loan –
A fever that they call “breakbone.”

Deep into that fever peering, long I lay there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the fever was unbroken, and the first test gave no token,
And the only words there spoken was the whispered cry, “There’s more?”
This I whispered, and the doc confirmed the threat for me, “There’s more!
Muscle aches, and so much more.”

Back into my bedroom turning, my brain and all my body burning,
Soon again I felt a churning somewhat rougher than before.
“Surely,” said I, “surely that is something like a migrane,
For my head has never felt such great pain and such dizziness before;
Let my brain be still a moment – I’ll just lie here on the floor,
Lie and wish to die here upon the floor.”

For two whole weeks I lay dejected, with my wife (also infected),
In solitude unelected – ‘til the fever finally left.
With our symptoms in recession, dengue brought us one more lesson:
One whole month of mild depression; fatigue made us bereft –
Drained of all our energy, our muscles had no heft –
Christmas was that fever’s final theft.

Now the shrill and sad insectile trilling of each tiny wingtip
Thrills me – fills me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I’m always DEET-ing,
Lest some small mosquito fleeting give me dengue here once more –
Some tiny violent vampire bringing fever here once more; –
‘Cause I don’t want to have it anymore.
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