Barisal Back Waters

Me and my colleagues had just arrived to the southern city of Barisal, the streets were quiet as we whizzed through the city on a large CNG, the shutters were down and the road sweepers were sweeping the dust away into the edges of the road, the sun had only just risen about an hour ago so the air was slightly cool, it didn't take long until we left Barisal city as it is a lot smaller than Dhaka, all around us the green agricultural countryside of Bangladesh was passing us, tiny villages had stalls set up for fruit and vegetable sales as well as cow herders heading down the side of the road, amongst the tall palm trees that cluster certain areas of the countryside the tower of the mosques would appear from the top of the trees which made it look like a hidden gem amongst a forest; when you pass through

the coutnryside of this country you do notice how flat the land is, you could sometimes see for miles across distant farmlands and padi fields.

We were standing at the river edge in the small village of Banoripara, there wasn't much there just small

buildings a small crowd of people and a dock, the air was so fresh and still cold. We were all stepping on to a long wooden country boat, as soon as you step onto the side it would tilt slightly, the last thing I wanted to do was fall into the brown water of the river; the engine was started which caused the whole boat to rumble slightly with the irritating loud noise of chugging; we were off, heading towards the dense trees and the many back waters of Barisal.

The boat itself was ok, but I think the plastic chairs that were used to provide us with a comfy passage were a bad idea as they would rock slightly to the currents, so I settled for a less comfy wooden bench that caused my bum cheeks to eventually numb, the small communities of the Barial back waters slowly passed by, people would wave and stare as they got on with their day to day routies, when you pass through these rivers you would notice how dependent the communities here are of the rivers that surround them, they use the rivers for passing traid, washing, playing and transportation from one village to the next, the markets are also situated on the rivers using boats instead of taking up valuable

land. As you were heading down the river you couldn't fail to see other small boats packed full of fruit and vegetable being rowed in the same direction, they were all heading to the weekly market.

After an hour of traveling slowly through the dense forest of Barisal we had reached our first point of call, we came to see a floating market in Harta Ujipur which sold many colourful items, the village was bustling to the sound of sellers shouting across to eachother, you would see many local fruits; we decided to try one, I can't remember what it was called, they were round and yellow and had an imense taste of sweetness to them, as you were to bite into them juice would come pouring out down your arms causing them to become a little sticky so to save the bottled water that we had we used the natural resource of the river to wash the stickiness away, the flesh of the fruite would stick into the gaps of your teeth which meant for the next few hours you would have the irritating enjoyment of playing with the bits with your tounge as you couldn't remove them. I love the market and really want to come back again to experience the madness of a market I don't understand.

As we left Harta Ujipur the sun was now causing the environment temperature to rise rapidly, the sweat would role down from my forehead into my eyes, the rag that I had looked like I had just soaked it into the river, the only shade I had was the flimsy roof over the top of the boat and the trees of the forest; we were now heading to Baitha Kata which takes around forty minutes to get to, it is a village which homes many businesses, the journey to get there was also eventful, the people were still waving their hands and smiling at our cameras as we slowly passed them, I think some were shocked to see cameras as they were taking their daily bath in the river; what I loved to see was the children playing in the river, they would splash and cheer and jump of

the many tree branches to see who can cause the biggest of splash, it was much more nicer to see the children enjoy the environment around them rather than a virtual environment on their consoles like the children back home.

We arrived at Baitha Kata, we parked our small boat next to a large metal ship and pulled ourselves up onto the village's dock to start exploring this fascinating place, the majority of the buildings were cheeply made by tin metal & wood with only a few actually built out of concrete, the streets were narrow and displayed many market stalls and shops, the passage ways were crowded but I don't know if that was the usual thing or the fact that their was a

white man walking through their village which caused them to follow, by the way when I say white man I mean myself, I had people of all ages staring at me from the joyful children to the wise old, I remember one child coming up to me nervously wanting to swipe her hand down my forearm, as soon as she did she went all shy by placing her arm up against her face, as I walked the people walked with me, I was wondering what my colleagues were thinking about the whole situation, I felt like a celebrity for my thirty minutes there, one of the reasons why we were in Baitha Kata was to find an NGO for our tour company to work with for future business, the NGO we found was from a company called BRAC where they offered ok standard toilets,

Bengali food and accommodation which looked so cheap and basic I would of loved to had the chance to stay there myself.

As we were getting ourselves ready on the boat to leave, the children of the large metal ship were all watching me leave, they were my temporary fan group that followed me everywhere I went, with smiles and a wave I shouted goodbye to their cheery faces.

We were now heading to the village of Shorup Kathi which was a one hour journey through the many passage ways of the back waters, one of the most comical experiences I have seen since this journey

was to see cows casually standing on a boat chewing grass, it doesn't sound funny but believe me you would of laughed if you were there.

We arrived at the village of Shorup Kathi, to me it looked more like a bustling town rather than a village, Shorup Kathi main industry is lodging as you would find piles of tree trunks placed on the rivers edge; the place was bustling, people were everywhere, crossing bridges, climbing over the large logs and the water ways was congested with boats of all sizes, we didn't really stay here long at this point but returned to it later on in the day, we went straight through to another village called Hularhat the journey was very long between the two places, the usual sights of waving and smiling was

still seen as we passed every home, boat and business.

I liked Hularhat, as soon as we arrived there were workers hard at work twisting what looked like hay in a large metal object, the field was a brown/orange colour which must of been the type of soil that you could find in this area, me and one of my colleagues decided to walk down one of the small little dirt tracks through the trees, coconut collecters were also hard at work, bashing the coconut's into a large sack ready to be sold off to the consumers, what I did find cool was a small water pump that the villagers used to collect fresh water, we were welcomed to use it to wash the sweat from our face and cool down before one of us was to faint from

the sun's dreaded heat.

Back on the boat we passed more children who were playing in the river, they used the shade of the boat to hide away from the sun but when they saw us coming they decided to try and swim in the direction of the boat, I loved the feeling of the many people spotting me on the boat waving at me with the biggest of smiles.

We headed back to Shorup Kathi in search for a hotel for our tour company, we parked our boat up on the bank and powered through this fast paced environemt, people were once again following me with the smiles that streched from ear to ear, there

were so many people with so much commotion, every small business you could find were there from carpenters, shop

owners, welders and electronics, we found a hotel that once again I thought to myself I would love to try, they prided themselves about the fact that they charge $1 a nigth, the hotel was so basic with nothing much to offer but hey what else do you expect for $1.

We left for another village which I unfortunately can't remember the name, it was a small village which had one narrow main road going through and the odd little side pathway, we decided to stop for lunch, thoughts were racing through my mind thinking how spicy was it going to be, of course I wasn't in Dhaka were you had many options I was

out in the sticks, the small little cafe was in a dark room, the building looked a little unclean but that is very much expected in a place like this, to wash your hands you would have to use the bucket of water outside whilst standing over a drainage system, I went to sit down ready for lunch, when the meat was dished up you could smell the spice, my eyes already started to water, I tried a small bit of meat which caused what felt like my throat to collapse inwards, I started coughing trying to get air back down into my windpipe, my tounge felt like it was on fire and my cheeks felt swolen, this had to be one of the hottest items of food I have tried since I first came to Bangladesh, I settled for a bowl of plain rise and some cucumber slices to settle my stomach for the day, luckily the lady who was cooking totally

understood that I couldn't eat her food, she was a large cheerful lady who found it slightly funny watching my face turn pink from the spice of her food.

We were now ready to leave the Barisal back waters, we sailed down a large river that opened up to what felt like a giant lake, the waves caused our little boat to crash into the water, it didn't feel completly safe, I don't think the sort of boat that we were on was suitable for the tyep of river we were now traveling on, the boat would rock and smack into the water causing a cooling spray to splash over our face, because the river was so open, it meant that there was now a channel of wind making it's way up the river, we had to remove our flimsy roof

which meant we now had no shade to protect ourselves from the afternoon sun, my skin was going red and felt hot to touch; we passed an interesting boat called a paddle steamer, this boat was here during the time when the British empire once ruled these lands.

We made our way to a small little pottery village on the edge of this large river, their were clay pots everywhere, everyone from the teenagers to the old were making pots to earn a living, there wasn't much else to see here apart from the fact that the children were once again interested to seeing a white man visit their village and asking me hundred of questions, when I spoke a little Bangla to them they couldn't believe their ears and jumped around

happily next to my feet.

This corner of Bangladesh is a secret to the outside world but it is certainly a place which is worth a visit, there are so many interesting activties to see from the small businesses, I found it intereting how these people of the communities in Barisal depended so much on the river, it was a privalige to just get a snippet of their lifestyle and to see how it compares to the people I know who live in Dhaka.

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