24 hours flying and waiting, queuing to apply for 3-week Bangladesh visa for a Kiwi “tourist” and desperately seeking our lost luggage...

---- Ah, yeah, so picture this. I’ve had only 5 hours sleep in the last 48 hours, and recovering from a cold. I was seriously swaying on my feet while Ahmed (WSDA NZ co-Founder/Director) communicated in Bangla with airline staff to figure out where in the world (literally) our checked bags were currently hanging out (turns out they never joined us on the second and third flight legs and were finally discovered loitering in Melbourne – doh!)

… we stepped out of the fan-cooled airport and whoooof! into the heat curtain of Dhaka in May (30 degrees+, and this is at midnight!!). By this point I was parched enough that I might have considered licking a puddle if one could be found. Of course I’d then instantly have to take my diarrhoea-prevention meds, so, yeah-nah, I figured I wasn’t quite at death’s door.

So grateful was I when ushered into our pick up vehicle – blissfully cool – and handed a bottle of water. I sank into my seat and glugged gratefully. “Assalāmualaykum” I finally blurted out to my car companion. “Waalaykumasalām” he responded uncertainly. {What on earth was this pasty-white foreigner doing speaking Bangla/Arabic?} “Ha-ha, that’s all she knows!” – Ahmed threw me under the bus. “Not all!” I indignantly defended myself. “Also I know ‘Thik ache’ (pronounced ‘tea-cut-say’, meaning ‘all good’) and ‘Dhonobad’ (‘thank you’)!”

---- Just so YOU know, I can also say “proshikun” (which means ‘training’) and “bidāya” (good bye). So there!

Anyway, then we were off into the night, driving amongst the crazy chaos of Dhaka streets. Even at midnight there were many people out – mostly men. At one point I stopped near a woman. We waved cautiously, hardly a flicker of movement, and smiled shyly at each other. A beautiful moment. The universal language of connection, human to human. Multitude of rickshaws, 3-wheel mini-truck-cars, pedestrians all bravely staking their claim to a piece of the road, nevermind the weaving, lane-changing cars – and the beeping, oh the beeping!

Interesting to wake this morning and feel quite at home with both the 4am haunting-sounding call to prayer broadcast and the ever-present car-beep orchestra. Second time here, and after visiting Kigali, Rwanda last year too, I’m not nearly as much in my stress response. (Check out the blog of my insights, observations and experiences from my first Dhaka tour back in 2019 (BC – in the days Before Covid))

Many wonderful new initiatives have been at play here since my last visit under the strong, caring and beloved leadership of Sheikh Hasina – daughter to the “Father of the Nation” and Prime Minister of Bangladesh since 2009. A couple of noticeable changes for me were the solar panels on many roofs, less beeping (unbelievably), more motor-cycles (less cars is the intention – keep the rickshaws, the world will come to Bangladesh for their design and processes when we run out of oil!) and an incredible express-way cutting right over the city – it felt like we were flying after cringeing and clenching through the tight-packed, fun-park-ride experience in the streets below. The expressway allowed me to be tucked up in bed sooooo much quicker – “Dhonobad dear Sheikh Hasina”). After meeting the kind staff here who’d waited up for me, I did a sneaky clothes wash in the bathroom sink (gotta have non-travel-stinked clothes for training a group of students tomorrow in effective communication!) and happily sank into a deep, albeit brief, sleep. Day 1 done.