I'm not sure why it's taken me so long to write anything about Bangladesh, I've been here for two weeks now and have had plently of time to write something, but instead I've left it until 45 minutes before I have to leave for the train station so it's going to be a bit of a rush.
I've spent more time in Dhaka than I would normally spend in a city. This is not because Dhaka is an amazing, beautiful city of wonderful culture and architecture, but because my friends Amy and Dave live here. Amy is an friend I met in Korea and she now teaches at the American International Schoool of Dhaka. They have a lovely, spacious flat so I've spent quite a while here enjoying very un-Bangladeshi things like brunch at the American Club and a huge Thanksgiving party last Thursday, complete with roast turkey and pumpkin pies. Dave is English so there were even some Yorkshire puddings and roast potatoes!
Dhaka city itself is a crazy place. I arrived back after dark one time, and the best way I can describe it is as a combination of Mad Max and the Wacky Races all mashed up in an acid trip gone horribly wrong. Amy and Dave live in Gulshan which is about as good as Dhaka gets. All the embassies are here, as are all the international schools, expensive restaurants, shops and coffee places (most important). There's a lot of beggars though, and beneath the veneer of luxury condos and obscene houses belonging to Bangladeshi cricket stars, there is trash everywhere, the lake is a dirty, stagnant mess, and you very quickly become hardened to walking past childre, blind people, crippled people, old grannies and ever-hopefull rickshaw drivers, all after your taka.
I took a bus from Siliguri in India to the border and then an overnight bus from the border town down to Dhaka. You're strongly advised not to take an overnight bus; 32 people die every day on the roads in Bangladesh, and it very quickly becomes apparent why- Bangladeshi drivers are insane. They drive as fast as possible, or faster, constantly blaring the horn to inform other drivers of their existence, and permanently trying to overtake whatever is going slower. This leads to an uncomfortable amount of violent swerving between lanes as the bus driver realises that he's not going to overtake the tuk-tuk, which has no tail lights, of course, before the articulated lorry that's coming in the opposite direction at a dangerous speed, honking at the bus to get out of the way. If anything, it's more terrifying in the day because then you can see out of the window. Not only do you now know how many times near misses you're having, you also become aware of just how fast the driver is going as the landscape whips past in a blur of rice fields, bicycles, and millions and millions of people.
So, when I decided to go to Srimongal, in the north-west, I decided to take the train. It's very sedate and civilized, especially when you travel first class. A first class ticket cost three pounds for which you get a guarented seat, fans, and attendents bringing you snacks and tea. The train goes pretty slowly which is great as you get to see stuff that you can't notice when you're on a bus. In Dhaka, there are people living all along the train tracks. By which I mean that you are on the train, enjoying the luxury of first class, and about two feet away is a guy brushing his teeth outside his tin shack. Once clear of Dhaka it's mostly countryside. Very flat countryside but it's actually quite pretty with orderly, bright green rice fields, cows, people on bicycles and buses loaded with sheep.
No more time! Hope this hasn't given a negative impression because I really liked Srimongal. Just going to the Sundarbans now, the largest mangrove forest in the world. If we're very lucky we might see a Bengal tiger. Hopefully we won't be eaten by one, not as uncommon as you would think!
