Bangladesh

Our time in Bangladesh is the shortest we have spent in any country, at only 7 days. We split that time between Chittagong and Dhaka.

Bangladesh as a country is fairly recent--it only achieved liberation in 1971, although the region has had it's own unique customs and flavors for far longer.

In both cities we went to bicycle rickshaws dominated the scene. Auto-rickshaws are also there, for some reason are completely welded in with cage-like doors instead of the open sides we are used to. It made it difficult to take pictures while driving around, as I had to try to aim the camera between an open square, so many of the photos have a green wire perimeter around them.  

The autos were not decorated too much, but the bicycle rickshaws were elaborately painted and covered with dangly fluttering bits like what my dreams are made of.

There were different little scenes painted on the back wood, often of little lakes with little boats floating in them, small country houses, or beautiful women with large doe eyes.

We spent our time in Chittagong at the cricket stadium where Zimbabwe and Bangladesh were playing. After the test match they had a "media match" where the different journalists and people working for the cricket board played each other in a mini tournament. I was an honorary team member of sorts and cheered from the sidelines, t-shirt and everything.

We traveled between the two cities by overnight fancy bus, which went from 11 pm to 7 am. Travel tip: save on hotel room fees by spending a restless night in transit instead! 

The bus made one stop around 4 am at a bus-only rest stop of some kind, where everyone cleared off for bathrooms and little cups of tea. 

I found our time in Bangladesh mostly overwhelming, which surprised me, as I would have thought our time on the road so far would get me past that. Oddly, the thing that got to me most was the spitting. In the two cities we visited, people were constantly hocking up the contents of their lungs and spitting them out everywhere--street, stadium, and midnight bus stop especially. I've always thought proudly of myself as an anti-germiphobe, who is largely unphased by these things. I've eaten in some shady places, lived in the desert with a constant dust coating, and washed my clothes in a bucket I had previously thrown up in (not on this trip! No worries, kind people who have let us stay with them), but I just couldn't get past it. Once noticed, it was like the tell-tale heart in Poe's story--I heard it everywhere, and it made me go a little crazy.

(you and me both, lady)

In Bangladesh they seem to eat a lot of meat, and we were treated to dinner in Chittagong with chicken, beef, AND fish. I normally take pictures of food everywhere but I ate it too fast, forgetting until there were only scraps on the plate. 

I did get a picture of these little rice cakes we had at one journalist's house, called "bhapa pitha." The ones on the right are savory, eaten with the little spreads in the cup ("bhorta," mustard and mint based) and those on the left are sweet, made with jaggery / molasses and coconut.

There was a lot of poverty in both places, and a lot of people living mostly outdoors. 

 Even within the fact that we stayed here for such a short time, I spent even less time actually outside. As a result, I feel like I have the least handle on it of any of the places we've been to. There were a lot of things recommended to us that we didn't do, and I didn't venture out alone at all the way I have in Mumbai, London, and Colombo. 

Yesterday we flew out of Dhaka to Mumbai. On the flight we had the same flight attendant that we had for our Mumbai to Dubai flight, and she somehow recognized us and slipped us each an extra beer. I can only hope that by the end of our trip all of our flights have such perks.

In a twist I never would have guessed possible, our drive through Mumbai seemed positively relaxing compared to Dhaka traffic. 

Or maybe that was just the beer talking.