5/24/14 Day 01

After a drive to Chicago we began our 20+ hour journey to the other side of the world. We rode a dumpy American plane to Manchester. Manchester accents are fabulous, by the way. I must spend more time in England if only to hear the accents. Then we rode Etihad (based in Abu Dhabi) to Abu Dhabi. The Etihad plane was a veritable palace. It was new and clean, no crumbs in the seats. It had a TV on each seatback and hundreds of on demand programs. The female flight attendants wore lovely hats with scarves attached. They served nice meals that tasted good. It was lovely. All our connections were tight, we had to rush through both airports. I remember feeling a particularly strong affinity towards Abu Dhabi, though I can’t pinpoint why. I just remember thinking this is somewhere I want to be. Our flight to Dhaka had a bit of a rocky start. A woman was in my assigned seat because she didn’t want to sit next to a man (a religious preference, but additionally the flight was full of migrant workers who are notoriously obnoxious). It was okay for us to be split up as long as she found a seat where she felt comfortable, but a flight attendant took it upon himself to find us seats together. We were given two seats towards the back in a majority male section. After that everything went smoothly. We arrived in Dhaka at 4:50 am with fat ankles and sore necks.

I cried when I stepped out of the airport. After so many problems and breakdowns and all the hard work to get healthy, I was finally here. It was muggy and loud and I loved it. There is so much life in this city. It’s all I thought it would be. So far the pollution is only bad when you are stuck in traffic. It makes me cough. Otherwise I don’t notice any difference. We arrived early in the morning, and after a nap we went out shopping for clothes. We have to wear traditional dress here. We took a rickshaw (!) to the first shop. I loved it. It seems to me the best way to see the surroundings. The rickshaws are beautifully decorated with bits of tin and bright colors. The drivers wear button down shirts and lungis, a sort of wrap skirt. The streets are full of different vehicles. Cars with metal bars on the bumpers, presumably to prevent damage. Green CNGs whizz along like little bugs. Brightly painted but dilapidated busses. I even saw a few double deckers. There is so much honking. Vehicles come within inches of each other. There seem to be no rules other than try not to hit each other. Pedestrians cross busy roads whenever they like. It’s a madhouse, but somehow it works. Lots of people stare at us, but that’s normal. We are told they are likely fascinated by our pale skin. Pale is considered more beautiful than brown skin. There are billboards with ads for skin lightening cream. In fact, all the models on the billboards are nearly white, some not even South Asian. How depressing it must be to grow up looking completely different from the people you see in magazines.

Rickshaws from behind

Looking down a main road

Gulshan 2 Circle