Two stories about children that I’d like to remember: Child beggars are pervasive. It’s one of the more difficult things to deal with here even after a long time. In a car, they will swarm me, pressing their faces against the window yelling, “Madam! Madam!” While walking, they will run towards me, grab my hands, try to pull my bags if I’m carrying any. “Madam, please!” they continually call. Sometimes I buy them some bananas or something or give them an extra mango from my backpack. Most of the time I brush them aside, say hello and ask them to go [View Full Entry]

---

---

Day 47, July 13, 2008 It’s kind of surprising that it’s my 47th day in Bangladesh. It actually does feel that long, I suppose, because I feel very settled here. I think I stopped writing as frequently because the everyday things I experience are generally not very new and exciting as they once were. I have a much different perception of everything now. Perhaps I am more callous, I’m not sure. If I’ve developed any character trait, it’s the ability to feel fine in the most bizarre and uncomfortable situations because they seem to arise pretty frequently. I have a better [View Full Entry]

---

---

Hey, this isn't really so much of an entry about anything happening in Dhaka but an apartment advertisement. I've realized that leaving this all public has brought some people who don't know me to look at this, which is completely fine but if anyone does read this and is in search of a flat (or knows someone in search of a flat) in Dhaka, let me know. I am leaving Bangladesh on Tuesday July 22 and then we will have a free bedroom in our flat (which is a really nice flat with great roommates). Then the next roommate leaves July [View Full Entry]

---

---

With 24 hours to take on Dhaka with a vengeance, we waste no time getting stuck in, despite my still somewhat feeble condition. We ride cycle rickshaws all around Old Dhaka, even though the UK government travel pages warn against it. (I think we only live once but it's debatable.) These are the first subcontinental vehicles i have travelled in that crash constantly. As Seth puts it, when you're travelling at 2 miles an hour, it hardly matters, does it? It's fun getting stuck in jams and seeing all the rickshaw art - film heroines and heroes, peacocks and animals - [View Full Entry]

---

---

The first thing I did on arriving in Dhaka was throw up against a wall. Considering I’ve been wanting to visit this city for eight years, it wasn’t really the entrance I was expecting to make. The bus from Kuakata had taken eleven hours, and we had travelled through the night. It was a great journey. All of the stars were out. ‘The Plough’ - that great saucepan of the sky - was the most prominent (quite appropriate for the subcontinent, I think.) The headlights lit up the endless rows of bushy trees, which appeared bright green momentarily then whooshed out [View Full Entry]

---

---

I’ve been staring at the water for some time now. The burning sun is hazy and doesn’t reflect much off the calm brown water. All of the sudden I see an animal jump. “A dolphin!” I say to my friend next to me. “Did you see it?” She looks at me, “A dolphin? I don’t think river dolphins come up this far.” “It was shiny and gray and arched out of the water?” “Well, I guess it was a dolphin then,” she shrugs and takes out her camera for photographs of some boys playing along the riverbank. I’ve taken a [View Full Entry]

---

---

It’s been awhile since I’ve done much because I got pretty ill. And I thought salads were supposed to be good for you…Truth be told I do know that this is an unsanitary place and you’re not supposed to eat produce that isn’t peeled or cooked thoroughly. But I’ve had some salad and fresh veggies and fruit because really, it’s the only consistenly good food Bangladesh has to offer. Sometimes I guess you get reminded arrogance can bring you to your knees, quite literally. So after all the vomiting and fevers finally stopped, I’ve begun to recover though I still [View Full Entry]

---

---

To get to work, I am picked up and dropped off by a van in a large traffic circle, which is a 15 to 20 minute walk to my home, depending on how long it takes to cross the road. I tend to take a rickshaw in the morning because it’s so early and in the evening I walk home since I’ve been sitting all day. I often get children, mothers with babies, disabled people, old people calling “Madam! Madam!” and running up to me for money. Usually I’m trying to avoid attention from everybody so I keep walking. On [View Full Entry]

---

---

Kairul claims he is 18, but it is highly unlikely that he is over 15. His waist is not much wider than the bicycle seat that he hovers over, and his legs are barely long enough for him to reach the pedals while seated. He spends most of his work day peddling standing up. His pre-pubescent looks aside, Kairul’s boyish curiosity and fascination with the world also give away his age. As he peddles down the streets of Dhaka, avoiding gaping potholes and confidently pulling u-turns in the middle of oncoming traffic, I often catch him letting his eyes wander around [View Full Entry]

---

---

Tomorrow marks two weeks from my arrival in Bangladesh. Everything has happened so quickly, and already I feel that I’ve come a long way from my first days in the country, when I was positive that my body would never adjust to the heat and that I would never figure out how to say “dhonobad” (thank you) properly. I landed in Dhaka at 6 am on a Saturday and was met at the airport by Elizabeth—the girl whose position I am taking—and a wall of hot sticky air. We hit the ground running, and after a full day in Dhaka we [View Full Entry]

---

---