Imperfection Is Everywhere: Bangladesh

Naively I thought, Bangladesh is just another tropical country with no much differences compared to Malaysia, trees same green, sky same blue, rivers same dirty and weather same hot. I happily went there as a Malaysian who knows nothing about this country.

When I first stepped foot in Zia International Airport, Dhaka, I knew I was wrong about the “No Much Differences” I initially thought. First of all, they have four seasons and it is now SUMMER.

Our arrival was welcomed by dad’s friends. Then, we began our 6 hours road journey travelled by a van rented by dad’s friend. Seriously, the 6 hours journey weren’t easy. First, the van was un-airconditioned. Sitting in the van felt just like riding a horse, just that the van has an engine and it was a little bit more comfortable. Other than that, it felt exactly like horse riding. Then, I was shocked by the way they drive. So dangerous and intolerant. If you think Malaysian drivers are reckless, they’re 1000x more reckless; if you think Malaysian drivers never follow the rules, Bangladesh drivers basically have no rules.

Well, how reckless?

They won’t apply brake until it nearly hits. They won’t tolerate until the traffic gets stuck.

Why no rules?

There is no traffic light at all. Not even in the Capital of Bangladesh, Dhaka. Neither they have street lights. They never use signal, honk is how they give signals. It’s ok to use the opposite lane, just as long as you can honk all the wayyyyyyyyyy if there is car coming from the opposite direction, and they’ll give way. They don’t care who you are, whether you’re a police, bus driver, tri-cyclist, motor driver, car driver or just a pedestrian, they just gonna bang your ass if you're blocking the way.

However, surprisingly I was told that their road accident rate is lower than Malaysia. Why? I made some smart guesses. It was probably because there were fewer vehicles on the road as Bangladesh is a really poor country. Secondly, the drivers there may be very well-trained. Thirdly, a hypothesis that really explains is simply because there are no female drivers. No at all! Thank God hahaha

I nearly pissed in my pants while sitting in the van. After 3 hours journey, we stopped by a restaurant by the roadside to have supper/breakfast. By the way it was 5am in the morning. Three pieces of weird taste roti canai was my first meal in Bangladesh. Frankly, if your stomach is not adaptive or strong enough, you’ll get stomachache the next second after eating there. The hygiene was really bad and the best part was, after the meal, the waiter took out some tissues from his POCKET and gave to us!! According to my dad, they will only give tissues to special guests. How I wished I was not special to them.

After that, we travelled by ferry 15 minutes across the sea. The sea was dirty and stinky. Later, we continued another 3 hours journey by van.

The roads getting narrower, rougher and bumpier, finally we came to our destination, Buruchibagan, a small village in Jessore District. I’ve tried to google this place but apparently this place is not googleable. So, imagine how secluded this place is.

I was so regret, it was a big mistake to wear my NIKE shoes here because we need to walk a small path to my dad’s friend’s house, and the path was full of all kinds of dung you can easily name; there were cow’s, chicken’s, dog’s, bird’s, goat’s, duck’s and etc. However, mostly were cows’. For your information, they really use it as fuel for cooking. (biomass) I’ve seen it with my own eyes; they rub the cow dung bare-handed like how we Chinese make the sweet dumplings. They first rub it, poke it into a long stick then allow it to dry. When it dried, it is ready to make dishes. According to them, it’s more delicious cooking with that. Haha

I was quite overwhelmed by their friendliness because all their family members came out to welcome us, as if it was the King’s visit. I was being introduced to their family members and that was when I made a new friend, Polash who is two years younger than me. Just a few minutes after our arrival, I can see there were many villagers outside the house, peeped through the windows and looked at me one kind, like I’m an escaped monkey from the jungle of Madagascar. Due to our language difference, I can only smile at them friendlily and hide my uneasiness.

Anyway, after such a long journey, I needed to take a bath very desperately. The bathroom was about 10 meters away from the house. Walking there of course was not a problem; the problem was with my new friend Polash. He was toooo very friendly until an extent that he escorted me to the bathroom and waited for me outside the bathroom till I get things done. Do you know how stressed it was to bath under such circumstances? It was the first time in my entire life that I got so afraid to take bath. Better still, no water heater, only natural icy well water.

When I came out from the bathroom, lunch was already readied. By the way, it was still their fasting month. They didn’t eat, they watched us eat, stood by our sides, scooped dishes for us, and filled our glass. Basically, we just sat there and everything was served nicely for us. My dad and I really got the King’s treatment there. Wherever I go, Polash will follow me and tell me what I should know and of course be my Bengali translator. He told me that the villagers were proud of our visit because there was no Chinese in the history ever visited that village. People came to talk to me randomly, they were very interested in foreigners. I even spotted one guy watching me using binoculars, like bird watching. =.=

Polash brought me around the village. Wherever we go, I heard villagers ask him the same question in Bengali and he will always answer, “Boss’s Xixili”. I was wondering, since when I become Boss’s lingerie? Haha. I guessed that means Boss’s son. And yes, I was right. =)

I felt like a poor king there because although I did not have a cent with me, I get everything I needed. They pay for everything.

Polash brought me to the market, the place where he and his friends usually hang out. The market is just like their “One Utama Shopping Complex”. He introduced me to his friends. They were very friendly and approachable. In fact, so far everyone I talked to in Bangladesh were friendly. Although some of them didn’t understand English, I can tell that they were happy of my visit. Everyone on the street looked at me very strangely, probably because of my look and my outfits. I instantly felt like a Hollywood star. But my dad said, “No, is like Michael Jackson visits Africa”.

Pollution is bad there. It’s rare to see rubbish bin at that area. It is almost as rare as the population of pretty girls in Nottingham University. So, they have no choice but to throw rubbish everywhere. However, if there were rubbish bins, I guess they still prefer dumping things into the drain. They like to spit everywhere, if your luck is bad, you’re very likely to get spitted on the face someday. It is so dusty everywhere; I need to shower at least 4 times a day. Every time I spike my hair after I shower, Polash’s grandpa and grandma will come to me and say, “Min, you need a haircut and comb your hair properly.” (In Bengali) haha.

How great it is to have 24/7 electric supply in Malaysia? It’s not so lucky there. Almost every 4 hours, electricity will be cut off and resumed after about half an hour. That country lived those dark-skinned people, imagine how they see themselves in the dark? Luckily they make use of the invention, Torch Light.

Bangladesh is a Muslim country therefore they celebrate Hari Raya too. On the 21^st September morning, the men dressed nicely, wore Punjabi and went to the Mosque, whereas for the women, they stayed at home and prepared Raya dishes. Basically that’s what their women usually do, stay home and make dishes. People there really have not much entertainment. For the children, their entertainment may be going to the market and running around the house playing hide and seek. For the adults, besides going to the market, they probably just have sex all day. That explains why their population is so huge.

Before we left, all the villagers came again to say goodbye. Polash’s grandmother reminded us to visit again someday. She even burst into tears when giving us a farewell.