Bye Bye Bangladesh

So my last day in Bangladesh came last week and, oddly, I was kind of excited to go back to India. I had a great time in Bangladesh. I loved the shopping (great clothes and artisan stuff), and the sites (the countryside was beautiful), and the people I met (Bangladeshi’s were fabulously nice and accommodating). Also, not going to lie, it was kind of fun having drinking be illegal again so that I could justify going to the Westin and American Club with my credit card to by beers. Plus, it forced everyone who wanted to drink into one of like 3 locations, guaranteeing a big party (welcome to the law of unintended consequences, Bangladeshi Government).

But I kind of missed the vegetarian food in India and I definitely felt like I was lacking freedom in Bangladesh…

There is a lot of meat in Bangladesh and, as I will continue to note, I lose my meat appetite when I see cows, chickens, and goats eating garbage. I have eaten ants and I abide by a 20 rather than 5-second rule (10 on dirt floors) so I think otherwise I’m pretty accommodating…

As for the freedom, people tended to tell me what I could and couldn’t do a lot. Sometimes I wonder if it was the language barrier because people scream more loudly so that I can “understand” them. Or, maybe I just look like a moron. At my hotel, when I had an American friend come to visit, they informed me he couldn’t stay in my 2-bedroom hotel room until I convinced the staff that he was my husband. Why my moral standing is anyone’s business is beyond me…

I was also told when I got there that I was “not allowed to go outside alone” which seemed a bit severe. Yes, there are few women on the streets but there are about 2,000 men on every street corner. And I’m bigger than most of them. (Did you know Bangladesh has one of the highest population densities in the world and, according to National Geographic, it is “mathematically impossible to be alone”?). Despite the warnings, I didn’t actually feel unsafe. Although that means nothing because I’ve never felt unsafe doing anything which is probably part of the reason that I am in my current position…but anyway, I understand that there is a higher than average concern about muggings here. There are signs of increased security that you don’t see in India – all of the hotels and apartments we stay in have gates so that our drivers can safely drop us without anyone on the street having access to us, the “tuk tuks” have metal grating on the side which I think is to avoid people grabbing in to rob you. So, while I wasn’t robbed, I was stared at a LOT. However, as no one said anything, it wasn’t too bad. Luckily, thanks to my time in Peru, the men have set the bar exceedingly low for what I think is rude street behavior.

The other thing that is somewhat striking about the streets of Bangladesh is some of the poverty. I’m sure I haven’t even seen the worst of it but there are a number of images that stick in your mind…The shantytown along the river road that my driver takes to work where I see moms giving their kids the morning bath. In the river. The make-shift tarps strung up for the “sidewalk dwellers” and the women sitting on the sidewalk cooking their lunch with a stove. After all, this is home. The boy in a wheelchair that sits outside our office and begs. The man with the gouged out eye covered in tape who tapped on my window to beg… I think you have to grow a pretty thick skin to deal with it.

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