Caught in a mob and imprisoned in a bubble

I heard words of hope last night for the first time in a week. It is important to mention this before I go into detail of the last couple of days. The words were spoken about the current political situation in Bangladesh and were spoken by a Bangladeshi so I went to sleep last night feeling a little more positive.
For the past three weeks Bangladesh has been gripped in the hands of uncertainty. There has been an almost continious blockade of the capital, severe fighting and brutalities, and sadly also a number of deaths. I have spent the majority of these three weeks trapped in the diplomatic zone bubble feeling helpless and trapped. On the brief occasion last weekend when the 14 party alliance graced the country with a 4 day break from the bloackade, a few friends and I managed to make it to Dhamondi and one of the venues for the National Photography exibition that is on till the 30th of November.
On Sunday, the last day of freedom, I once again made my way to the office in joyful anticipation at the prospect of a full days work there. There was news of possible marches, but my office is on the main marching street of Dhaka and so marches are an everyday occurance. The marches normally start at 3pm and so I knew that I could make my way out of the area before that if they looked serious. But the marches started at 11am and got bigger and bigger. Jamat Islamiya marched down waving what looked to me like the Pakistani flag and BNP carried posters threatening Hasina - the leader of the 14 party alliance. Eventually at 2 I decided that I should try and make it across town to another meeting I had arranged, but as I left the office my colleague told me that it may be better to go staight home. I emerged from our building and into chaos; a CNG was stopped outside the building but no amount of money or pleading would convince him to take me to my bubble. A brief second and I thought that I should turn around and go back inside, but then I was afraid I would be trapped there. I started to cross the road and as I did a group of BNP suppoters came marching up the road behind me. On the other side a group of Jamat were marching towards me. I was trapped on the island in the middle and just had to stand there feeling real fear for the first time and wanting the enternity of the moment to pass. One of the marchers caught me eye and in there I could see that he saw my fear. A brief break in the procession and I made it to the other side; I pleaded with 3 rickshaws before one agreed to take me to the nearby office of my Swedish friends 'The Swallows'. We emarked on a journey that normally would take 10 minutes, but it took almost an hour; by the time I reached the safety of 'my embassy' I couldn't speak for five minutes.
Now here we are trapped again, but as I mentioned I heard hope last night and I have grasped on those words because we all need it. Bangladesh needs it, the people need it and I need it. I hated those feelings of fear on Sunday in a country that I feel a great hope for and believe in its future because like many of its people we have to. Thank you for sharing my moment with me and I hope you can share the hope with me too.
The latest hope - the Electrorite Commissioner Aziz will take an 'extended holiday', during which he will be filled in for by an individual whom all are 'happy' with.