Background:
So I have not posted in a long time. A lot has happened since then. Namely, many people in Bangladesh have gone bananas. There has been a great deal of rioting, looting, murder….ah all the workings of a thriller that is yet to be released. So here is the basic jist (based on my own understanding):
Elections are coming up in Bangladesh. There are two main parties: The Awami League and the Bangladesh National Party which are vying for the position to run the country. Currently the Bangladesh National Party (BNP) is running the country. The Awamis and the BNP hate each other. Not to be taken lightly. The leader of the BNP, Khaleda Zia (tweedle-dum), has not spoken to the leader of the Awami, Shikh Hasina (tweedle-dumber), in over fifteen years. Both women are totally insane and suffered great losses in their lives (i.e. loved ones being assassinated by the other party).
When the Awamis are not happy with the BNPs they call strikes (a.k.a. Hartal). The result is the entire city of Dhaka and other parts of the country shut down. No work gets done, transportation often gets halted, and people riot out to frustration. It sucks. To top it all off, the Hartals rarely accomplish any measure of positive benefit for the party that calls it.
With the impending elections, there is increased tension and violence among the people. I won’t get into the political intricacies of the situation, but this is my story of what I experienced.
WHAT HAPPENED…..
I was in the Sundarbans (the world’s largest Mangrove forests) in Southern Bangladesh near the Bay of Bengal. It was a four day trip on a boat. On about the second day, we learned that a major hartal had been called. The hartal was huge b/c several people had been killed and there was widespread violence and right out beat downs of people who were at the wrong place at the wrong time. At this point, if you are thinking, man that is scary, well yes it was. Steve and I had to get back to Dhaka fairly urgently. So early on we started planning on how to get back to the city.
Our boat arrived at a\the port town of Khulna. From there, we decided that we would purchase plane tickets that would take us into Dhaka. A quick 35 minute flight. Sounded easy enough. We got off the boat and boarded a diesel powered dingyt that took us ashore. From there we went to the GMG Airlines office where we bought tickets to Dhaka city. However, GMG informed us that the airport was 40 miles out of town. What to do….there is no transportation running. One suggestion (and I am serious) was that we could RENT AN AMBULANCE!! That’s right for about $50US we could rent an emergency vehicle (because it would not be attacked) that would take us to the town of Jessore, where the airport was. Being two cheapskates, we said no. Hey man, in BD $50 is a lot of money! Not to mention the moral implications of taking the ambulance away from someone who may actually need it, wasn’t too appealing.
I found two rickshaw drivers who would take us from Khulna to Jessore. These two guys biked their rickshaws for about 22 miles to the town of Noabhara. This cost us about $5US. Much better deal. On the way we saw a mob tearing apart a store. Immediately our rickshaws pulled into an alley where we strategized about what to do. In the end it was decide that we should stay on the richshaws and our drivers would walk the rickshaws through the mob. At this point, I am thinking: “Great, only a month in Bangladesh, and I am about to get the crap beaten out of me by an angry Bangladeshi mob!” The rickshaw drivers lowered our canopies and as the mob crowd approached us they could see that we were Westerners. I was distinguished by the shorts I was wearing and Steve was distinguished by his skin. These guys were carrying axes, spears, sticks, and other implements that had probably been used to beat up other people. Imagine an angry mob of men (approx. 100) approaching you and as they got closer and realized we were Westerners they started yelling “hey America!!”. WHEW, they were friendly. To our relief they were ok with us. The mob would get angry and as they passed us would give us the thumbs up sign and then go back to being angry. It was like Moses parting the seas! We noticed that people had identified us as the “safety factor” and had gathered around our rickshaws for cover Suffice it to say, we were of course relieved. So we got to the town of Noabhara, where we rented one motorcycle that loaded, Steve, myself, and the driver, and my backpack onto it and took us the remainder of the way to the airport. I can’t recall in recent memory a more welcome site. It felt great to see the planes getting the heckl out of dodge!
We got home ok, but it was certainly something to remember. Words cannot explain the adventure and what do you know….we have no pictures…PRICELESS!
As I reflect on my first month, I am realizing that there is much left to learn. I think I hit that point where I realized that getting frustrated at the everyday anomalies is not going to help. This place is certainly different and there is a lot left to be said about the way things are done here. The election process is certainly an interesting example.
Here are some pics of the Sundarbans….
Little fishing towns along the river……
The sunset was beautiful…..
