Just another day in Paradise

Yesterday was our day off. Every Friday we wake up, eat a delicious breakfast of fresh fruit (purchased off the street the night before) moori (a kind of puffed rice) and TugDoi (basically, sour cream, their version of yogourt).

We then head out to catch the bus. Catching the bus in Bangladesh is not like it is anywhere else in the world. We first take a rickshaw to the unmarked bus stop. The only reason we know where to go is because previous volunteers have shown us. Previous volunteers showed them where to go and so on and so forth. At the unmarked bus stop there are tiny wooden desks, just big enough for one person to sit behind. These have no distinguishing markings on them. One has an umbrella. In the dense crowds they are very easy to miss. At these desks sit a couple of men who sell the bus tickets. So we buy our tickets at the unmarked bus stop.

The bus has no exact schedule. We just buy our tickets and wait, hoping it comes soon. The buses themselves have no numbers on them. Many different buses are almost identical, but the small variations in paint are how the passengers appear to distinguish them. Our bus has musical notes painted on the side. Each bus is privately owned, so each route is set by the company that owns the bus. There is no transit system.

For 32Taka we take an hour long bus ride into Gulshan. That's about 50cents. Gulshan is the posh area, but you wouldn't call it that anywhere else in the world. The electrical wires are hanging in bundles of thousands. They cut through corners, leaning into the houses and rubbing off the plaster wall paint. The high rises are rough plaster over rougher bricks. There is glass and metal in Gulshan however, which is not common in the other areas. The rich people live here, and all the expat clubs are here as well. The rich people have small estates. Many of these are beautiful by any standard.

Other than the two main roundabouts in Gulshan, it is a much quieter place then the rest of Dhaka. I cannot impress on you enough the noise here. So Gulshan is a welcome respite from the constant battering of horns. The other main reason we go to this area is there are several western style places. There is the Dutch club (I had the dutch pancake for lunch) Lavender (the western grocery store) and Bitter Sweet (the best milkshake I have ever had in my life came from this lovely little cafe). We spoil ourselves rotten after 6 days of living on $3.00CAD a day.

The bus ride home makes the bus ride in feel quaint and domestic. The ride home is wild. Everyone is returning in the evening and the bus is packed. Yesterday we arrived as the bus was leaving. We were informed the next bus would arrive in 10minutes. 50minutes later a bus pulled up so packed with people there were literally arms hanging out the doors. We managed to jam in a few more people, including the three of us. I was on the steps leading out the door. Terrifying. Joy was on the bottom step leading out the door, and hanging on for dear life!

There is no question the most dangerous thing we do here is ride that bus. But we survived another harrowing bus trip, and met a few nice people on the way. Everyone here is very curious about us, so it is impossible not to talk to strangers. Though I have already been asked three times for a visa to Canada. (One man offered to be my housekeeper!)

I find Dhaka so overwhelming in so many ways, but we are not living in Dhaka like the people here. We can get away from the noise, the poverty and hunger and the garbage, even if only for brief periods of time. We are the ones walking away from the beggars. Being able to walk away is freedom. I paid a very small sum for my amazing milkshake (less than $2.00) but that is a day's wage for some people here. According to my lonely planet, half the country lives on less than $2.00/day and that will support a whole family. (Support may be a lofty term here). 

I find myself conflicted. I think we all (well, those that think about it anyways) justify our lifestyles to ourselves. We do so by saying things like, "Well, I work hard. I deserve this." But I don't think anyone works harder than a single mother in an impovershed country trying to support her family. We look at our country of Canada and think, well aren't I lucky to be here. And we are, more so than we are willing or even able to understand. Being in Bangladesh has magnified that. I'm not sure where this is going. Maybe just that we all need to live more simply, protect our environment from global warming (which is creating so much more poverty by destroying the little bit of fertile land many of these people have) and be a bit more generous. I for one am going to cut out hot showers (There is no hot water here, so I'm used to it now) and give to the CRP and other well run, recognized charities. Also, I plan to keep volunteering abroad. What a great way to travel conscientiously.