In the afternoon, I wander round to my dad's office. I like going to his office because it's in a lovely old building. But mainly I look forward to walking home with Dad when he has finished work. He works for the River Transport Company. He's works for the River Transport Company. He's in charge of hundreds of boats which bring goods to Narayangonj, large ships take the goods by sea to other countries, such as Russia, Britain, Germany, Brazil, Japan and china.

At this time of year Dad has a lot to do. Most of the boats are bringing jute to Narayangonj, and the warehouse are full of it.

Jute is a tall plant, grown all over Bangladesh. It looks golden when it's ripe, and that's why there are so many poems and songs about 'Sonar Bangladesgh'-'golden Bangladesh'. There are tough fibres in jute stems, which can up as rope, string, sacks and carpet backing.

When I get to Dad's office I have to wait because Dad's having a meeting. I read the newspaper, and wish he'd hurry up. He can't put off the meeting because tomorrow is Friday, the Muslim holy day, and the office will be closed.


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