Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Dhaka, 1st Week

I arrive in Dhaka from new york and notice that the country is more or less sea mixed with land, in equal parts. from the ocean, skinny strips of land jut out to mix and tangle with other snakes of land. from the plane, these unruly strips eventually organize themselves into a gridlike pattern in order for farmers to use them for roads to get out to their rice paddies. the order slowly degenerates again as the buildings, slums, and streets of dhaka appear. i happened to fly in right during the middle of a student protest in which the caretaker government shut down all transportation and communications in the city. luckly my former-roomate-steve weasled his way through military checkpoints in the middle of a curfew, on a rickshaw no less. this was very good because i would've had no way to contact him or get to his house, not speaking bangla myself. as we pedaled safely home using our whiteness to get us through checkpoints, my senses were assailed by the great pitri-dish of dhaka. b.o., trash, human waste, and the illicit odor of hashish punched me in the nose. confronted with beggars at every corner, the eeriest were groups of lepers in a rhythmic, monotone chant of god's name--allah, allah, allah--with arms outstretched, asking with hungry eyes who would be the answer to their prayers. you wonder how much heartbreak you're supposed to feel. in the west, we forget that we're all fragile sacks of biology susceptible to disease and decay, an ever present reminder here.



















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