Amar Shonar Bangla...(My Beloved Bangla)...A Pictorial of My Birth Country

I've spoken about where I was born on many occasions but the fact is that most that I've had a one-on-one convo with about my country of birth has cocked their head, rubbed their chins and shrugs their shoulder in clear indication of no knowledge of this particular place.  Okay, not totally surprising and I'm not about to give any of y'all a history lesson.  However, I will pull myself out of epic laziness long enough to show you some pics I think aptly captures Bangladesh and share some thoughts while I go along. 

Enjoy...

In case you've never ever seen the flag, there you go.  A visual knowledge bomb has dropped on your butt.

 

Now keep in mind, I was born not in the Capital of Dhaka, but rather the port city of Chittagong.  Here it is for y'all on the map.  See how I cropped?  Nice, right?  That light blue is the Bay of Bengal, in case you didn't realize.:

 

 

Also see that blue circle?  Yea, there.  Between Myanmar, Bhutan and honkin' huge India.  It's a small country absolutely ridiculously overcrowded as all of these countries tend to be.  The top 1% has all the wealth while the rest...meh...not so much.  Poverty is everywhere, or at least the earmarks of it even when you're in the more affluent areas.  Want to go somewhere that doesn't remind you about the harsh realities of the world?  Well, Bdesh may not be your choice destination although the country does boast gorgeous beaches and resorts along with a thriving, active, bustling capital and mountains that will,  I guarantee, take your very breath away.

But be warned that as soon as you land at the airport the air is rife with overripe fruit, oppressive heat and yes, poverty (I will point this out many times yet don't believe this is the only aspect to this country (I will also clarify this point as well)).  You cannot miss it, cannot turn a blind-eye to it and you most certainly cannot help but wonder how people survive. 

However, survive they do.  And as people who live in adversity are want to do, they thrive, adapt, adjust, change to their environment.  They cling to their culture and religion, using that as the shield against what is otherwise grossly lacking, the basic comforts that we first world folks take for granted like running water, electricity, plentiful food, variety of options, etc...They celebrate, laugh, cry,  deal with all those issues you are probably dealing with but their surroundings simply look...different.   

But let me show you some pics of the precise city where I was born:

 

Somewhere in the above craziness I came into the world on a December morning...okay lemme stop, I am not poetic enough...not even giving my mother the time to get to a hospital.  Yea, since then I've been an impatient soul, won't lie.

 

But looking at that pic, it looks lunatic, right?  No real beauty, just chaos.  But take a closer look, even in such extreme crazy, there is some loveliness, I think because this shows a thriving country steeped in adversity indeed:

 

 Yea, but that looks pretty cray cray no doubt...Hold up I have another one for you...

Those are Rickshaw's, the bike thingies.  Only two people can sit on them at a time, sometimes 3 if you're anorexic and 1 if you're well...not anorexic.  You may have seen them here in the States or other countries tooling around big cities, also called the same thing but yea, different in every other respect.  Think socio-economic, think cheap labor, think necessity.  The greater part of the population is dependent upon this incredibly difficult means of earning a few taka (the currency).  The physical exertion is bad enough but couple that with the heat?  Yea...yikes.  And where it would seem just wrong to even take advantage of this nearly inhumane labor, keep in mind that for every one that you step back from, another person is going hungry from lack of earnings. 

Moving along though, I don't want to show only lunacy.  My birth country isn't all about congestion.  Darn it, I know there are some picks I stole (sorry) from the net which aren't so...so...chaotic...

Well this sure ain't it.  But since I've already pasted it here, let me tell you what you're looking at.

That's an outdoor bazar.  Regular grocery stores are only for the high and mighty....lol...kidding.  Even those are showing up with regularity now (from what I hear) as well as gargantuan malls but for the most part you send your servant boy/girl/man/woman or sometimes even the household folks, to go into the crush up above and haggle themselves into a fit.  There is a wonderful sense of accomplishment when a few taka's are knocked off and they come home with a live chicken in one hand.  Yup, seen that many times.  It's awesome until the chicken is killed...then...*shudders*.  Don't get it twisted, I still eat the thing though :P

Remember how I mentioned that Chittagong is a port city?  So let me show you the port.  Admittedly the picture above is sort of depressing.  Muddy water, sad pathetic barges, but...here's another look:

 

 

These picture represents a bursting trade...a port full of possibilities. 

 

And not far from here is the beach, but an hour from where my family lives.  Potenga is a beach which I've visited countless times, on so many occasions that I can't pick one out.  There's a military base close by  hence you see a lot of men in uniform strolling along taking a break from their regimented life.  You also see couples sneaking some romantic moments, families splashing around in the sand and all other sorts of humanity.   If you do happen to stop by?  Get the piaju (fried lentil balls with all sorts of yum spices) which are handed over in rolled newspaper and a cup of thick sweet creamy tea that coats your mouth and in conjunction with the spicy eats, burns so good...yea, we have this place too...

 

 

And here's an areal shot of the lazy river snaking it's way by.  Which river, you may wonder?  Heck if I know.  I'm not that well versed in Bdesh geography (I'm ashamed to say) but seeing as how I pretty much immigrated and settled in the States at the age of 3, is it any wonder?  Although that being said, I should have paid more attention when others told me, tried to edjumicate me...you live and learn, right?  Never to late.

Oh yea, see this here hills below?  They're located in Chittagong also, literally steps away from those above busy streets you saw.  Yup, what a handy little city right?  Mountains on one side and the ocean on another.  The beauty here never ceases to amaze me.

Those little green things in the pic below are called 'Baby Taxi's".  Let me assure you they are loud and obnoxious and the quickest mode of transport and cheap.  Did I mention cheap?

Love this picture...nothing to say really...I didn't take it so I'm sorry for the possible copyright infringement but I really do take NO credit for the beauty here, so like, don't sue me, k?  Thanks!

Beaching it.  Not me, whoever took this pic was but I think this shows you another facet of my beloved birth country.  Although I have more pictures of the beach below, there's a reason why I put this one here...

 

 

See, juxtaposition between the busy and the serene.  Or maybe I like to use the word "juxtaposition" wherever I can to make myself sound way more intelligent than I am.  Just sayin'...you decide.



 



Okay, I absolutely had to post a picture of this shot from a traveler on a train.  I've been on these loud clacking, swaying, out of control monsters that have transported me between Dhaka to Chittagong.  They are fantastically scary and so much fun.  The hawkers in the train offer terrible chicken cutlets (breaded flattened pieces of fried chicken) that are so good that I still to this day can practically taste it upon my tongue.  And another reason to show this shot?  I've often been the person to stick her head out at a certain bend to look back and marvel at how long those darn metallic beasts are.  Let's not talk about safety though.  There is no such thing but let's just enjoy this one second memory from childhood, shall we?  

 

Let me keep it moving...

 

Just a man working hard for his money.  These hawkers are everywhere and will sell you even underwear (new, not used) if you wait long enough.  My favorite was the cobra hawker.  For a price he will come into your house and make his cobra do tricks for you and your gawking family.  Get your minds out of the gutter folks, this is a family channel.  When I say cobra though, I mean the real deal with the fangs and venom and all the hissing.  It never struck me how inhumane this spectacle was as a young girl of 17.  I wasn't that clued in.  I just wanted to see a snake.

No, nothing about the life of a poor man/woman/child is easy.  This picture has left me a little lonesome and hopeless.  But still I wanted to share.  If you think YOU don't have enough, remember you have more than this guy below, right?

And to properly show you once again the extremes, here's a picture of the inside of a mall.  Yea...look at them dresses.  So pretty, colorful, vibrant...what's not to like?  It's funny, I've had several dreams throughout the years that I went to Bangladesh and was struggling to go shopping.  No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't get to a market.  What's that say about me?  Heck, what's that say about how kick-butt shopping options are there? 

Once again, back to the harsh reality of life...

Oh, those things the men are wearing that almost look like skirts?  They're actually lungi's.  Long fabric that is tied around the waist and then can be doubled up to make a sort of mini-version.  I won't lie, I've loathed these things from the beginning of my fashion consciousness and possibly one of the reasons is because often you can find some idiot with his back to the street and his thingie all out and peeing against a wall, no shame whatsoever.  It's easy accessibility.  -_-

Another picture that inspires such longing in my being to book a ticket back home.  Next year though...

 

 

Can I please talk about the food for a second?  Oh the gastronomic joy.  And if you're a meat or fish lover?  This is the country you should go to and partake because lordie, the options are astounding and all so very good.

 

 

 

*Wipes the drool away and continues to blog*

 

Have I highlighted enough how hard the vast majority of the population work just to make a few bucks?  And I know, I haven't shown the gentleman/lady in suits heading to their nice air conditioned offices.  But just because I didn't show you doesn't mean they aren't there.  But you've seen them everywhere anyhow.  They don't change because they're in another country, they are all exactly the same.  They are all corporate drones that burn the midnight oil, hate their bosses, become excited for COB and drink coffee to wake themselves up (or tea) and keep them going.  I'm sorry but there is nothing fascinating or unique to show you in those pictures so like the snob I am, I'm not.  I'd rather show you what you, if you've never been to these types of countries, can see.  Real struggle as well as triumph.

Anyone for jackfruit?

 

Yup, this is what Bdeshi's would call the projects if they knew what that terminology meant, otherwise it's just a house for some soul and his family but...nice view I suppose. 

 

 

Added this because who can't like the vibrancy of this picture?

 

 

So here's the thing...I have no faith in the local airlines, Bangladesh Biman (Biman literally means airplane).  I'm not trying to malign them or nothing, I've in fact been on these planes a few times but this picture makes me not want to ever again...never board a flight.  How the hell did this happen in the first place?!

 

 

Did you know that the national sport in Bdesh is cricket?  And the team is pretty kickass.  If you're ever visiting, then try not to go during a World Cup season because nothing gets done.  The whole country stops to watch the games that seem to go on for not just hours but days.  Want to see the ranking?  Check it here.

 

 

Bdesh isn't all about poverty, as I mentioned before.  Here's a good example of homes that can be found.  The architecture is quite beautiful, the rooms opulent and right outside the door?  The villages of the poor.  But don't judge these people too harshly.  The affluent cannot always help being so nor can the poor.  We are all, at the end of the day, victims to our environment and change isn't always sought even though we think it should be.  If you're sitting at home right now in the non-3rd world countries thinking, "we don't have that sort of poverty here!"  Well then take your happy butt on down to the less tasteful areas of your town and have a look-see.  You'll be shocked.

 



 

Oh!  Remember the snake charmer?  I found this pic and was so excited cause this is sort of how the guy with the snake was, even the box (not a wicker basket like most believe), that visited my family.  This isn't the guy I saw so many ions back but close enough...

 

 

Rainy season is sublime, in my humble opinion.

 

 

 

And an epic pain and mess...

 

Highways are now reaching every outlier village to make traveling easier.  Yup, and this means modern conveniences being spread far and wide.  Slowly but still, progress is progress.

 

 

 

Here are a few more examples of the opulence, so don't be under the impression that 'rich' doesn't exist.

 

 

Mosque...Bangladesh is a Muslim country, FYI.

 

 

I don't know what this is but it's pretty, ain't it? 

 

 

Confession time:  I went through and found all these images (well this isn't the actual confession) and I've 'uploaded' them to this blog in a totally random order.  But this has worked to my advantage because I think in this way, you're seeing not any one idea clustered together but rather all the realities that entwine together to create this country.  

 

Like here, you see a woman scrounging for food?  Or  possibly something to resell?  I don't know what she's doing specifically but I can tell you this much, I've seen her.  Not her specific but those very much like her.  This is truth.

 

 

And another reality. 

 

 

I could go on forever showing picture after picture of my beloved birth country but I run the risk of becoming far too sentimental.  Besides no place can be captured accurately in just images but rather in the experience because none of these show the warmth, love, humor nor fighting spirit of the folks that inhabit this little space within the global mass.  You cannot see how they dance with joy at weddings or cry in heart break when suffering through a death.  You can never imagine the national pride of those who fought for liberation or how that very spirit permeates every citizen. 

 

Yes, Bangladesh is a small country, overpopulated, polluted, underprivileged in so many ways yet it contains within it some of my most wonderful memories. and people I have every had the luck to meet.  They are heartfelt and caring and emotional and crazy but they are real (a word I've used so many, many times throughout this blog but it's worth repeating even though I'm risking redundancy).  Even as I sit here typing this up, I can visualize the streets, the smells, the sounds, those faces and I feel...yea, I'm a bit choked up. 

I have done my self a great disservice not to have gone back in 10 years.  I will remedy this, that I vow.  

 

But for you, my reader, if you've never considered this a viable destination for your wanderings, please go.  Above I've shown you just a glimpse of what it's like, but there is so much more and trust me, you will be welcome with open arms because well...That's how Bangladeshi's roll.