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Published: June 22nd 2006
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While we traveled to Cox’s Bazaar we traveled through 250 km of beautiful countryside. It didn’t seem that beautiful to Nabil and the Iqbals, but I found it to be a sensory overload. Between the big cities of Dhaka and Chittagong we passed through many small towns. Some of the most powerful images were fleeting, a frame in the movie of this trip. The look on a wizened face, the jutting rib of a cow, the enormity of a pile of jack-fruit.
Everything is handmade here. Almost all the buildings are constructed of concrete, though not of the American pre-cast kind. Everything is cast on site, and almost all the labor is not mechanized. To keep the concrete from dripping when pouring floors, they use sheets of bamboo, and bamboo is also used to support the upper floors at the buildings rise. Especially in the villages bamboo is used for everything, from supporting walls to ladders. Bamboo has a higher strength/weight ratio than steel and works wonders. It grows untended at a ridiculous pace.
One of the most foreign sights for me was seeing women in burkhas everywhere. Bangladesh is a Muslim country, so this shouldn’t have been
surprising, but it was still quite a shock. The little boys on their way to Muslim school (free tuition) all wear prayer hats.
During our drive we passed through Chittagong, which is one of the most prolific boat salvage regions in the world. You can buy any nautical thing you want, though there is no guarantee that the thing will actually work. Many of the shops have entire bedrooms scrapped from cruise ships. The sights of gleaming stainless steel kitchen appliances among mud-encrusted buildings was quite jarring. The stainless is probably ok though, it lasts forever
On the way Zafar mentioned research that is being conducted on Bangladeshi cows which would drastically increase their farmers wealth. Surprisingly the heart valves of Bangladeshi cows are a perfect match to those of humans and studies are being conducted on replacing pig heart valves with Bangladeshi cow heart valves. This is an especially big deal in Muslim countries because pigs are seen as unclean animals unfit for eating, let alone implanting into the body.
Before I came to Bangladesh I heard many stories of people being summarily pulled over by cops and interrogated, the sole purpose of which is to
get a bribe for the cop. While we approached a bridge, a policeman motioned us over to the side of the road. A discussion with the driver Swapan (SHAR-poon) ensued and the cop found out that the owner of the car and passenger was the famous author M. Zafar Iqbal. Once he found this out he claimed that he pulled us over so that he could meet Zafar, though this is almost certainly not the case. In the end we escaped with out money and our dignity.
The rest-stop offered my first taste of the squat toilet. Well, not taste, but use. I vaguely remember using one in France, though I don’t remember where. In the less developed areas in Bangladesh, you are lucky if you can find a squat toilet.
After 9 hours of traveling we arrived in Cox’s Bazaar. Our hotel, the Sea Crown, was right on the beach, and the rooms were comfortable enough. We had an indirect sea view.
We struggled to find somewhere to eat after a stroll along the beach towards bright lights we thought would have food. Unfortunately it was all stalls selling junk so we took rickshaws back the hotel. In the end we ate at the restaurant in the hotel. Boy… was that a big mistake. The menu was huge, offering food from all over Asia - Thai, Chinese, Bangladeshi, Indian. We asked the server what he would recommend and he was ominously silent. This should have been a sign to run, run as fast as you can, but instead we missed the hint and ate. Suffice to say the beef and chicken were some of the worst food that I have ever eaten, and top the fries that I had in England at the Chinese place. The sweet and sour prawns were ok at best, though the Thai soup was tolerable
Due to our departure at 6 am from Dhaka, we were dead tired and fell asleep a little after 10pm
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