My First Six Months in Bangladesh

Welcome to Dhaka! Dhaka; the capital city of Bangladesh, also known as the city of mosques and rickshaws; when I first decided to move to Bangladesh my mind was full of wonder, what experiences would I have to tell friends and family back home, what tricky situations would I have to talk my way out of and how would the Bangladeshi people treat a white westerner walking through the same streets they have grown up in since the day they were born?

As the plane was flying over Dhaka, preparing to land, I looked out of the small plane window at the starry night sky, below us was the lit up city lights of my new home, the bustling city of Dhaka. Dhaka International Airport was one of the most hectic airports I have ever travelled to, it gives you a view of what there is to come before you even leave the

safety of the airport; Dhaka International Airport wasn’t as modern as the airports back home in the UK, it felt like I was walking through a large bus station, the dull dark rooms with low ceilings and grey walls made the country feel unwelcoming; after going through customs we find ourselves in the warm air outside, I had arrived in Dhaka during monsoon season, so the air felt heavy and the heavens could open any minute; the chaos of the cars tooting and people yelling made me feel like I was a world away from home, most foreigners would hate to stand there but I had a smile on my face that stretched from ear to ear, I couldn’t believe I was finally here, after months of planning.

My Father’s driver had finally arrived to pick us up and take us to my new flat, driving through Dhaka was an experience I will never forget, I was constantly looking out of the window watching everything and everyone; the battered busses, the rickshaws, the people sitting on top of roofs, the old beggar ladies tapping on the window of the car, looking into their eyes made my heart sink, seeing this all the time made me think about how lucky my life has been compared to the many people of this city; the one thing that I couldn’t get my head around was the amount of guards that is required in Dhaka, every building had someone standing outside, this is just something you wouldn’t have back home, if anyone is ever looking for a job with a good chance of succeeding then being a guard in Dhaka is your best bet.

My new home is located in the Banani district, just before resting for the night I sat there on my bed with the lights off and just gazed out of the window across Banani lake at the lights of the nearby buildings, I sat there smiling but slightly home sick, but these are feelings I knew I would experience when I decided to move to the other side of the world.

The Expat way of life

Dhaka has an amazing expat community, from what I have heard, one of the best in the world; there are so many

different nationalities living in Dhaka; British, Americans, French, Spanish, Pilipino, Canadians, Australians and much more; being an expat in this city automatically makes you a part of a community. Dhaka’ homes many club houses, where you can escape Bangladesh and regenerate yourself behind the high walls; I became a member of the BAGHA club which is short for the ‘British Aid Guest House Association’, inside they sell foods from the home country followed by many events, alcohol and leisure activities such as swimming or tennis; the Bagha club felt like a home away from home and was one of the best places to be in the beginning, when I was still getting used to life in Bangladesh; through these clubs I have met so many amazing and interesting characters from general managers to poets; just being able to walk around Dhaka and notice someone you know gives you some comfort that you are not alone in this daunting city.

The city of Rickshaws I could never get used to the rickshaw’s here, I am constantly on a never ending battle whenever I leave my home, I have had arguments about price and just shouting in general; I knew being a white skinned person in this city would mean trouble sometimes; I know the rickshaw riders are from much poorer backgrounds and have had a life so much harder than what mine has ever been, so I do feel for the poorer people of Bangladesh, I will never understand because of my slightly spoilt lifestyle I have had in the UK, but there is only so much you can take. I have a few stories I can tell you about rickshaws, so I will write about a few of them here.

One evening I wanted to walk from Gulshan Two Circle back down the Banani, and for the whole way I had three or four rickshaws following me, they were constantly cutting me up as I walked down the road which only grew the deep temper that was inside of me, they would jump off the rickshaws and grab my arms to try and drag me on which forced me to push them away and shout “No”, it was frightening because I didn’t know how to argue my way out of such a situation, I have never been taught in my childhood how to escape from the demands of a rickshaw rider because we just don’t have it in the UK.

When I do take a rickshaw I would settle the price before I even think about stepping on, from Gulshan to Banani it would normally cost around 50taka but for some reason when I finally reach my destination the price goes up to 1000taka and sometimes even more, one evening a rickshaw rider brought me home where I had 50taka ready plus a 20taka tip but he was demanding way more over a 1000taka and I was going against his demands, so I stepped off the rickshaw and tried to give him the money, but you can see he was becoming very angry with me so with all his might he shoved me in

the chest; I was so shocked about the current situation that I didn’t know what to do about it, I am not a violent person so I didn’t retaliate back to him, so I just showed him the money and put it back in my pocket and walked away, there was no way I wanted to give him my money after the way he was treating me.

So now I avoid rickshaws when I can because I believe they are just too much trouble, I only travel on a rickshaw if I am with one of my Bangladeshi friends, I find that they are an interesting form of transport but the city is riddled with them, they block the roads and cause congestion on the many city roads, even one time a bus just missed crashing into the back of the rickshaw I was sitting on because the rider took a split second chance to get to the other side of this fast paced road; my heart was in my throat as I clung to the bits of scrap.

Poverty You can see that Bangladesh has a poverty problem, every time I walk down the road you can see the people who have been less fortunate in life, the old with no feet, the men with no eyes, the children with no shoes, it does upset me when I see these people and I always wish if there is more I can do for them, when you are sitting

in the car the view of begging is a constant view out of your window, when you are stuck in traffic they would come tapping on your car window begging, sometimes though you see women with babies which they have rented and drugged to help encourage you to give money, I always wonder what life that child will have in the future, you know they have next to no chance on making their life a success and could end up in a long downward spiral into the life of drugs, I have decided in the new year I want to join an organisation where I can put my hands into better use and help with the poverty that over runs Dhaka.

Dhaka is not only home to poverty but is also home to some of the wealthiest people in the world, there is a lot of money in Dhaka but it doesn’t really show when you are looking at the city through your eyes, the way I see it is if there is a will there is a way of making money here, I never realised how much enterprise there is in Dhaka, many people have started their own little businesses to make sure they can feed their families, these are the people that deserve an award because they haven’t given up on life when life has pushed them down into the dirt, they just brush themselves and carry on and that shows the fighting spirit that the Bangladeshis have.

Time to Protest

Bangladesh managed to become its own country after a bloody war against Pakistan; on the news there was constant updates about someone who is to be executed for war crimes against Bangladesh; the hartel was a

scary time for me because I didn’t understand what would happen if I was to wonder outside, you can hear the distant chants from the people who were angry against their government, even when I was in my office you can hear the troubled city outside, just as I was finishing my shift you could hear the sounds of warning sirens outside which made me feel uneasy about even stepping foot out of the door, the people were rioting against the police by beating each other with huge sticks, it was chaos before my very eyes, but it is experiences such as this one that makes Bangladesh the most interesting country I have ever had the good fortune on moving to.

The Red roads of Dhaka – Eid I had the chance to celebrate my first ever Eid, on the days building up to Eid it was strange to see so many cows, sheep and goats outside, tied to the nearest tree or post; on the day itself before the morning prayers I walked around Dhaka, the people were getting ready for the day; I was hoping to never see a cow’s throat slit

but when I did it didn’t startle me at all, Ok I was a bit put off by the idea of participating but watching from a distance wasn’t too bad, the roads around me were red as the blood ran through the city streets; the one thing which I really love about the Eid celebration is that it brings all Muslims together, and in the evening you just know that everyone is going to have the chance on eating some meat that night, in the evening you could see people laying out blankets of meat, these were parts of the animals that the richer people didn’t want so the poorer class of people would come around and eat it themselves, it was nice to know that everyone was celebrating this festive time in their own little way.

The next morning you can find parts of animals dotted around the road, I was stepping over legs from cows as the crows were pulling out the pieces from buckets that was left out for the people; that is another thing about Eid, no part of the animal is wasted which is more respectful for the dead animal.

Ten hours of darkness I have never experienced a national black out before coming to Bangladesh, but one sunny afternoon everything went down from air conditioning to the lights, Dhaka and the whole of Bangladesh was in darkness once the sun had set over the horizon, lights that once lit up the city were now gone, luckily Father had purchased

candles in case of emergencies, shops were over charging for candles which everyone was so desperately to receive, one point Bangladesh had totally ran out of candles in the shops which left many people spending the evening in a dark black room; I found the whole experience exciting, not having any wifi for ten hours meant you were cut out from the rest of the world, it was also a chance for myself to escape from the modern world luxuries and move back into time to experience life before electricity was invented, me and my father would just chat and sing the night away whilst the city was at a standstill, I didn’t think I would ever experience a national blackout, not knowing when the lights were to come back on was another moment I will never forget.

Winter is on its way The cooler season is now on its way as we roll through December, to many of us expats it’s still feels like we are in the summer season but you can see that the Bangladeshis are cold, all wrapped up in many layers of clothing and blankets; it was funny to see that I would always had strange looks from people as I was walking around in just a t-shirt; the mist from the many rivers that surround Bangladesh has left Dhaka in a blanket of fog and mist, you couldn’t see the tall structures of distant buildings. At night time you would find the guards lighting fires at the side of the roads which looked very welcoming to come and join them, it has been ages since I lit a fire and sat under the night sky, but I thought I would give it a miss. Looking back at these four months I have been in Dhaka I must say I have had one hell of a time, I been through so much which I never thought I would have to go through, so many stories to tell folks back home and yet as I sit here and write this article I know there is still so much more to come, that’s what makes Dhaka great, it never gets boring and there is always something new to make your life here interesting.

If someone asked me about moving to Dhaka I would highly recommend it to anyone who is wishing to make their life more interesting. Overall Dhaka is a chaotic city that has a beautiful heart, the people of Bangladesh help makes this city a place that is bearable to live in, so many great characters to meet and so many experiences yet to unfold.

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