Jeni as a Bangladeshi

Over the past few days, I’ve spent a lot of time walking around. it’s the best way to really get a feel of the place. When I get back, drenched in sweat and feeling accomplished, I’d open up the map of Dhaka and realize how embarrassingly little area I’ve covered. But my treks have been somewhat useful; I’ve bought a few pieces of kameez, discovered a bookshop that had books in English, and gotten somewhat more used to the staring. Not quite yet.

So far, here are a few things I’ve discovered that are good, bad, and make absolutely no sense:

* The weather. It’s a sauna that you don’t have to pay for. During the day, stepping outside feels similar to opening the door of an oven. Except whatever’s baking in the oven does not smell anything close to edible food. Or food, period.

* I remember jotting down in my pre-departure research that there was a Hertz car rental here. Now I can almost laugh at my ignorance. Driving in Dhaka is like a joke that’s not too funny. There are no rules, and if there are any stop lights they’ve apparently stopped working. And everyone here honks, at everything and nothing. They will honk when they’re behind you, next to you, and after they’ve passed you. I think if you were to take the horns out of the cars here, all would be in a state of chaos. (note - this type of driving is not limited to Dhaka; it’s pretty much the same when I went back to China. And also in parts of Peru. Quite amusing to watch!)

* Food is great. You probably wouldn’t have guessed, but Dhaka has a big variety of international cuisine. Within these couple of days, I’ve had really good Japanese, Vietnamese, Thai, and Italian. Food is also cheap. Most great dishes can be had for 150-200 taka. That’s less than 3 bucks. I’ve also had really good local food, all of which have been extremely spicy. I haven’t had the chance to try much of the street food here. But I did get introduced to these little pockets of heaven known as Fuchkas, which are these fried shells, in which is stuffed with potatoes/chickpeas/minced meat, and then loaded with toppings and spices. You put an entire one in your mouth; the crispy shell bursts into an amazing array of flavors. Amazing!

* Everyone stares. There are hardly any foreigners here, and the locals are naturally curious. A friend who had lived here for years warned me about this, but admittedly I was still not quite prepared for it. Being a female foreigner makes me that much more interesting to stare at - although there should be close to 70 million women in the country, they’re nowhere to be seen. The few women I found in the streets were either with husbands or family. So as a result, foreigners will find that all eyes are fixed on them from crowds on both sides. I guess it’s almost like being a celebrity. Except celebrities are rich. And the children here love to follow us. I was walking with my friend when we noticed that a bunch of kids were crowding around us. So we walked faster, but they followed faster - it was all quite amusing. We then thought we’d lose them with boredom, so we stopped at a corner and stood there silently for almost five minutes. They stood there with us.

* I love riding on the rickshaws. I don’t use these when going to work because of my laptop, and because the owner of my guest house insists that I be dropped off in their car; apparently robbers have been known to run past rickshaws and snatch purses. But other than that, I think it’s fun to climb into them and whirl though (or getting stuck in) traffic. It’s slightly frightening at times because the seat is narrow, and there’s nothing to hang on to. I’m not sure what would happen when there’s a sudden stop, but I guess these things don’t go that fast anyway. There’s an estimated 700,000 of these in the city, each of them covered with bright decorations. They make for an interesting view when stuck in traffic. And speaking of that, I’ve yet to figure out why Dhaka’s road layout is the way it is. In one of the most densely populated cities in the world, its designer must have thought it fun to make all roads converge at single roundabouts. So no matter where you want to go, you inevitably get sucked into these centralized roundabouts, creating an unbelievable amount traffic. And you thought LA and NYC were bad.

* It’s only been a week, but I’m tempted to conclude that the people in Bangladesh are probably the nicest in the world. As I walk in my neighborhood, people standing around at their doorways always smile (while staring, of course), and say "Good day madam! How are you?" And everyone goes out of their way to help, because to them it’s not out of the way at all. I stopped to ask for directions once, and a crowd came and began offering advice. Unfortunately they were pointing in all directions, so needless to say we didn’t get too far.

It’s now Friday, the beginning of the weekend. The 4am prayer just sounded off from the nearby mosque. In a bit, the construction crew outside will come out of their temporary shacks and begin their day. An hour or two later, villagers will load large baskets of produce on their heads to sell on the streets. As for me, I plan on being equally productive. My plans are to eat a plateful of mangos with fresh squeezed mango juice for breakfast, and then go for a light morning jog. Then I’ll hop onto a rickshaw and venture into more of this chaotic yet vibrant and energetic city.

I miss home. But I’m not yet homesick. Dhaka, in all its craziness, is feeding my addiction for adventure.