Dhaka – made it, finally!

It was great to finally reach Lorinda and Andrew, who are working in Dhaka as teachers at an International School. Lorinda studied at uni with Ange, and the two of them had been there for about three weeks. They were awesome hosts, letting us stay at their place, eat their food, wash our clothes and helped us get oriented. They live in Baridhara (which we immediately renamed BazzaDazza, along with a local shopping centre, Pink City, which became Pink Bits), a diplomatic zone surrounded by embassies and ex-pat accommodation. I didn’t realise how many foreigners resided in Dhaka, or how many countries are officially represented there. BazzaDazza is some distance from the old town, but is quiet, pleasant, leafy oasis amongst the craziness that is Bangladesh’s biggest city.

We spent our nights hanging out with L&A and their teaching mates and during the day while they worked, we explored the city. The first day we asked Rasheed, L&A’s favourite rickshaw driver, to take us around the neighbourhood. We wanted to go to the old city but it was too far by rickshaw, so we were content to just go on a random adventure. Random it was too. In the end we just cruised around and ended up right on the outskirts of the city, where it looked like a lot of new construction had been planned but never eventuated out in the swampy, reclaimed land. There was almost nothing there, and we found it curious that he’d taken us all the way there to show us pretty much empty swampland. But I must admit, it was nice and peaceful and we came across fishermen in the swamps, brick crushers, lots of birds and, curiously, lots of big black 4WDs with tinted windows just cruising around. Not sure what sort of dodgy deals were going on there. We also took a walk around Gulshan Lake, which is at the centre of BazzaDazza and is a beautiful place to walk, not to mention take part in a local cricket game with the kiddies, who were amazed that two foreign women knew how to bowl!

The next day we wanted to get to the old town, so off we went in an auto rickshaw, a little 3-wheeled green number with a cage around the driver. There seems to be a generally accepted rule about where drivers are prepared to go; the guys on the bicycle rickshaws won’t go too far as it’s tiring, but because of traffic the auto rickshaw drivers are reluctant to go longer distances (ie to the old city!) unless you pay extra. We managed to find one who would take us, and not long afterwards we totally understood. Dhaka’s traffic feels like it’s peak hour all day long. Congestion central!

First stop was Lalbagh Fort. Not that we got to see it; it was closed for the lunchtime break and prayer time. Oh well, plenty more to see. So we walked down and got our first taste of the crazy labyrinth that is Old Dhaka. It was cool to just wander and see how the place worked. Thousands of little shopfronts and streetside-sellers lined the winding roads, selling everything from stationery to beads, Dhallywood jewellery to saris, newspapers to spices, phone cards to toothbrushes, mung beans to kitchen goods. People hurried around carrying all sorts of random items. You name it, you could buy it. Interspersed with these were numerous eateries and streetside stalls with flat breads cooked in front of you along with fried snacks, curries, fruit, dried fish and sugary delights.

And the traffic! We were constantly jostling for space with rickshaws, pans (rickshaws with flat wooden trays for carrying things), wooden carts pulled by cows, trolleys pushed by fruit sellers, trucks laden with goods and people carrying items on their heads. Many non-descript buildings were the remains of the colonial Dhaka, with beautiful facades and domes now crumbling from a lack of TLC; many were ugly, dirty grey concrete boxes with upstairs offices for government agencies or companies.

We had just been to see one of the old city’s beautiful mosques when we were randomly approached by an effervescent local, keen to invite us into his office for a cup of cha. In the end we accepted, perhaps to escape the madness for a while! Mr Bablu ran a cooperative business giving out small cash loans to the poor, and was very keen to tell us all about it. He ushered us into his office and introduced us to all of his staff, all the while talking about his business, asking us whether we understood what we were telling him and what we thought of the whole thing. Of course we thought it was great; but then curiously he asked us to put it in writing, so we signed and sealed a written statement to this effect. Then the usual niceties – the asking for our contact details, a photo and for us to keep in contact so that he could visit when he came to Australia. Let’s just say we got very good at writing fake email addresses for people we didn’t want to keep in contact with, and promising to send photos! (the latter which I’m happy to do…). Eventually after a cup of cha and a biscuit, we managed to get out of there and again, escape the madness…

This aspect of wandering Old Dhaka – the constant attention we drew wherever we went – was a blessing and a curse. People watched us intently from the moment they saw us to the moment we were out of their sight; anyone who could speak a word of English wanted to use it on us and those that could, asked us a million questions; people called out to us to say hello; we were invited to numerous shops and street stalls for cha, from every angle; and any time we stopped, even if just for a minute, we were almost instantly surrounded by a crowd of people. It was all done in genuine curiosity and with the greatest friendliness, and while it was extremely tiring answering and asking the same questions, we enjoyed it (most of the time).

We spent most of our time in Old Dhaka looking for landmark mosques, palaces and temples, but in the end we were just swept along with the moving feast of sights, smells and sounds of the old city, becoming increasingly lost and not finding most of what we were looking for! One really interesting thing that we found was the street lined with sculptors, headstone carvers, instrument makers and conch-shell jewellery carvers. Inside one sculptor’s workshop were the partially completed likenesses of various Hindu gods and goddesses, which were amazing – just as amazing as the looks on the faces of the sculptors, who obviously rarely had the experience of two foreigners entering his workshop.

On the Tuesday we went to visit our friend from the bus trip, Hossein. Hossein is the owner of a shoe manufacturing company that exports leather shoes around the world, and as such, is a very educated and well-travelled Bangladeshi. After we arrived and met his family, he proceeded to show us his wares. He was very proud of his business and carefully unwrapped each pair of shoes for us to be admired (which we did with appropriate ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’!). At first we thought he was going to try and sell us some shoes, but in the end he just wanted to show us his products.

We enjoyed a lovely lunch cooked by (but, to our disappointment, not eaten with) his wife and mother-in-law, and got another proud showing, this time of all the pet birds on top of his apartment (random!). Then he took us to the National Botanic Gardens where we spent the afternoon wandering in the shady surroundings. It was lovely there, another oasis discovered, but we also wanted to get back to visit L&A at their school. By the time we went out the obscure back exit of the gardens, which took us again to the outskirts of the city, waited around for a cab (there were none!) and went back around the long way to avoid the horrible traffic, that idea went out the window. But we still had a nice dinner for Ange’s birthday with L&A and the crew for our last night in Dhaka.