Dhaka
After my second unsuccessful attempt at obtaining a US visa, I sat one night in the balcony of my home in Mumbai and wondered if the first country to provide me with a Visa was going to be an unconventional one. Two months later, my query was answered, the first Visa stamp on my passport came from none other than our little neighbour 'BANGLADESH'.
It happened in April 2004, a query from a customer in Dhaka, regarding our product landed on my desk. The customer was very clear with the problem he was facing - "It's NOT WORKING!!!"
So, like all good post sales partners, we had to send someone to visit his plant and fix the problem. I was the most viable candidate and even otherwise I would have readily volunteered because I simply wasn't going to miss a trip like this....
It took me about 45 minutes to convince my mom that I was not going to Afghanisthan, but to Bangladesh and that Dhaka was a relatively safe place to travel to. I told her that I was the sole product engineer and hence, I had to go. The truth was that I 'wanted' to go.
I choose to fly with 'Biman Bangladesh Airways' as compared to our very own 'Indian Airlines'. The reason I gave was that the timings were more convenient, but again the truth was that I wanted to get a first-hand feel of a new airline that I never even knew existed. I was scheduled to fly out of Kolkatta, since the 'Biman' flight out of Mumbai flew only once a week and cost 5 times more!!!
So, I arrived at the relatively empty terminal of Dum-Dum international airport to hear the news that my flight was delayed by an hour. I checked in and started watching an episode of 'Tom and Jerry' in the waiting lounge. Soon there was an announcement and in another 20 minutes I found myself inside a small 50 seater aircraft. The seats were really uncomfortable and I felt like siting in one of those rides in 'Essel World' where they buckle you up and say "Rough ride ahead". The aircraft started taxing off and the passengers had to remind the air hostess to turn on the airconditioner. Soon, we were airborne and were served some beef sandwich and a can of coke. The flight time was only 35 mins and before I realized it, we landed at Zia International Airport in Dhaka.
The terminal was nothing short of a vegetable market. I clearly remember two to three hands protruding out of the little grills of the currency exchange counter shouting "I can give you more value for your dollar". Soon I was out of the terminal and seated in a Toyota Land Cruiser headed for my hotel room. Once in the city, we passed a railway line which ran parallel to the raodside. I asked the driver if Dhaka had rail transport. He replied that it was a inter-city line running between Dhaka and Chittagong and was used to transport textiles to the port city for export. He was talking to his fellow colleague in a language which I simply could not comprehend. But I knew it was not Urdu. I asked him what language they were speaking in and was amazed when he said they were speaking in Bengali!!
He told me that the language spoken in Kolkatta had a bit of hindi mixed in it and hence could be understood to some extent by people like me. He told me that Bengali was their national language and spoken in its purest form there. That's when it struck me - the country that I was in - BANGLA-desh.
My room was booked by my hosts at a 3-star hotel in a posh suburb of Dhaka, not very far from the American and German counsulate. I called my host and informed him that I had arrived and he said that he would pick me up at 6am the following day and take me to his plant. That gave me the whole evening to explore the city.
I loved to explore any new city on foot. So, I walked out of the lane where my hotel was situated untill I reached a main road. On my left, was a small bridge that was built over what appeared like a small river, but was actually a sewage canal. On the right, stood two to three tall and wide buildings that reminded me of Nariman Point area in Mumbai. Lots of cars, mainly of European and Japnese make, zipped past me as I stood at the corner. It was there that I felt for the very first time in my life - "I was abroad!!"
I decide to turn left and walked for a while past a crowded market place. I wasn't in any mood to shop there so I decided to turn back. I decided to take the hand pulled cart which was the most economical means of travel, especially since I had only to go a short distance. He took me to the end of the lane and said he could not go any further. Aparently there are streets in Dhaka where poor people are not allowed to enter. Since I was staying in a posh locality, I soon realized that there were multiple streets where these poor 'rickshawalas', as they were called, could not enter. I made him a few bucks extra and thanked him for dropping me there.
I then headed for some hotels which were located at the basement of the tall buildings which I had seen earlier. All through my evening walk, I noticed that there was no power in any shop. As evening approached, the situtaion became even more clear. The street lamps didn't turn on and the whole place looked like a dark alley. I could hear generators running inside a few shops and hotels. One hotel had quite a few 'firang' students in it and I assumed it would be safe for me to eat here. I dined on chicken kabab and two rolls and headed back to my hotel for a early nap (I had a big challenge ahead of me to be ready by 6am the next day)
Somehow, I pulled myself out of my bed at 5am and got ready before heading to the restaurant for the early morning breakfast. Just before 6am, I met up with my host, who was a hefty man around 35 years of age with a french beard. He spoke in a distinct accent that one would normally associate with an American, but was heavily influenced by his local Bengali. After a brief introduction, we headed for his factory in his Prado. I told him that I was amazed to see such cars in Dhaka, we don't see so many imported cars in India. He told me that since, they didn't have any indegeniously built cars, they has no option but to import. He also said something that alarmed me. He told me that the rich in Bangladesh were really rich and could easily afford 2 or 3 imported cars, while the poor weer so poor that they had to fight for two meals in a day. The concept of middle class did not exist!!
We had to drive right past the city and that gave me a chance to see all that Dhaka had to offer. From the bus stands to the vegetable markets. I had a long chat with my host all along the way and I learnt a great deal about lifestyle in Dhaka. The hand drawn carts were called 'rickshaws' while the omnipresent 3 wheelers were refferred to as 'autos'. he also complained that during Durga Puja time, the babus in Kolkatta take away all the 'Rui machli' from Dhaka. One of the most remarkable things I learnt was that there were only 5 -6 traffic signals in the whole of the city!!!.......the city faced constant power cuts and hence, traffic police stood at all important junctions and waved their wands which displayed the red and green light at the switch of a button to regulate the automobiles.
We reached his plant at around 7:30am. It was a hi-tech power plant which was actually floating on a river. After a couple of hours of running around with the engineer in charge, I gave a presentation to the management about our comapny and product. Later, I shared a tasty lunch with all the employees comprising of ghee rice and chicken curry. I could feel a thousand eyes upon me in that cafeteria and I probably understood how a 'firang' would feel in a similar situation when he travels to India.
At round 2pm I was escorted back to my hotel room in another car. On the way back, we passed the 'Banga Bandhu National Stadium' which I had seen so often on TV. We also passed the museum and the driver told me a very interesting story about it. He told me that since Begum Khalida Zia was in power, the museum displayed only memoirs and photos of her late father General Zia. He said that after elections if Sheikh Hasina comes to power, she will get all his photos replaced with those of her late husband!!.......so much for the history of the nation....
I guess I had seen most of what Dhaka had to offer. I had a delicious Thai dinner that night and prepared for my departure the next day. I had to spend another half a day at the airport, cause my return flight was delayed by over 5 hours, after checking in, which meant I couldn't leave the airport terminus. I watched the pirated version of the movie 'Main Hoon Naa' along with other travellers and spent some time talking to another fellow passenger who was a frequent traveller. By late evening I landed back in Kolkatta and took a much needed nap in my hotel room there.
However, as I lay there on the bed I couldn't but think back to a lot of things I had learned in the last 48 hours. I thought to myself that if we felt India is 10 years behind the US in development, how far back is Bangladesh.......India belonged to the 'third world', wonder which world our neighbour belonged too...
Would I go back there??......Definitely. Dhaka is surely not a tourist destination, but it gives you a different perspective of the world we live in. All in all this was one journey I doubt I'll ever forget.
----------
Before I publish the post, I must darw you attention to the national currency of Dhaka and a funny incident that happened at the Bank of India, Dadar branch when I had gone to collect some 'Dollars' for my visit.
The conversation took place in Marathi, but I have translated it in English for general reading -
Me: "Ma'am, Do you know what is the currency of Bangladesh?"
Ma'am: "Yeah.....it's called 'TAKKA'. Acha listen....when you come back bring back more than two takkas.....or else they'll call you 'Do Takke ka Insaan'....hahahahaha"
It happened in April 2004, a query from a customer in Dhaka, regarding our product landed on my desk. The customer was very clear with the problem he was facing - "It's NOT WORKING!!!"
So, like all good post sales partners, we had to send someone to visit his plant and fix the problem. I was the most viable candidate and even otherwise I would have readily volunteered because I simply wasn't going to miss a trip like this....
It took me about 45 minutes to convince my mom that I was not going to Afghanisthan, but to Bangladesh and that Dhaka was a relatively safe place to travel to. I told her that I was the sole product engineer and hence, I had to go. The truth was that I 'wanted' to go.
I choose to fly with 'Biman Bangladesh Airways' as compared to our very own 'Indian Airlines'. The reason I gave was that the timings were more convenient, but again the truth was that I wanted to get a first-hand feel of a new airline that I never even knew existed. I was scheduled to fly out of Kolkatta, since the 'Biman' flight out of Mumbai flew only once a week and cost 5 times more!!!
So, I arrived at the relatively empty terminal of Dum-Dum international airport to hear the news that my flight was delayed by an hour. I checked in and started watching an episode of 'Tom and Jerry' in the waiting lounge. Soon there was an announcement and in another 20 minutes I found myself inside a small 50 seater aircraft. The seats were really uncomfortable and I felt like siting in one of those rides in 'Essel World' where they buckle you up and say "Rough ride ahead". The aircraft started taxing off and the passengers had to remind the air hostess to turn on the airconditioner. Soon, we were airborne and were served some beef sandwich and a can of coke. The flight time was only 35 mins and before I realized it, we landed at Zia International Airport in Dhaka.
The terminal was nothing short of a vegetable market. I clearly remember two to three hands protruding out of the little grills of the currency exchange counter shouting "I can give you more value for your dollar". Soon I was out of the terminal and seated in a Toyota Land Cruiser headed for my hotel room. Once in the city, we passed a railway line which ran parallel to the raodside. I asked the driver if Dhaka had rail transport. He replied that it was a inter-city line running between Dhaka and Chittagong and was used to transport textiles to the port city for export. He was talking to his fellow colleague in a language which I simply could not comprehend. But I knew it was not Urdu. I asked him what language they were speaking in and was amazed when he said they were speaking in Bengali!!
He told me that the language spoken in Kolkatta had a bit of hindi mixed in it and hence could be understood to some extent by people like me. He told me that Bengali was their national language and spoken in its purest form there. That's when it struck me - the country that I was in - BANGLA-desh.
My room was booked by my hosts at a 3-star hotel in a posh suburb of Dhaka, not very far from the American and German counsulate. I called my host and informed him that I had arrived and he said that he would pick me up at 6am the following day and take me to his plant. That gave me the whole evening to explore the city.
I loved to explore any new city on foot. So, I walked out of the lane where my hotel was situated untill I reached a main road. On my left, was a small bridge that was built over what appeared like a small river, but was actually a sewage canal. On the right, stood two to three tall and wide buildings that reminded me of Nariman Point area in Mumbai. Lots of cars, mainly of European and Japnese make, zipped past me as I stood at the corner. It was there that I felt for the very first time in my life - "I was abroad!!"
I decide to turn left and walked for a while past a crowded market place. I wasn't in any mood to shop there so I decided to turn back. I decided to take the hand pulled cart which was the most economical means of travel, especially since I had only to go a short distance. He took me to the end of the lane and said he could not go any further. Aparently there are streets in Dhaka where poor people are not allowed to enter. Since I was staying in a posh locality, I soon realized that there were multiple streets where these poor 'rickshawalas', as they were called, could not enter. I made him a few bucks extra and thanked him for dropping me there.
I then headed for some hotels which were located at the basement of the tall buildings which I had seen earlier. All through my evening walk, I noticed that there was no power in any shop. As evening approached, the situtaion became even more clear. The street lamps didn't turn on and the whole place looked like a dark alley. I could hear generators running inside a few shops and hotels. One hotel had quite a few 'firang' students in it and I assumed it would be safe for me to eat here. I dined on chicken kabab and two rolls and headed back to my hotel for a early nap (I had a big challenge ahead of me to be ready by 6am the next day)
Somehow, I pulled myself out of my bed at 5am and got ready before heading to the restaurant for the early morning breakfast. Just before 6am, I met up with my host, who was a hefty man around 35 years of age with a french beard. He spoke in a distinct accent that one would normally associate with an American, but was heavily influenced by his local Bengali. After a brief introduction, we headed for his factory in his Prado. I told him that I was amazed to see such cars in Dhaka, we don't see so many imported cars in India. He told me that since, they didn't have any indegeniously built cars, they has no option but to import. He also said something that alarmed me. He told me that the rich in Bangladesh were really rich and could easily afford 2 or 3 imported cars, while the poor weer so poor that they had to fight for two meals in a day. The concept of middle class did not exist!!
We had to drive right past the city and that gave me a chance to see all that Dhaka had to offer. From the bus stands to the vegetable markets. I had a long chat with my host all along the way and I learnt a great deal about lifestyle in Dhaka. The hand drawn carts were called 'rickshaws' while the omnipresent 3 wheelers were refferred to as 'autos'. he also complained that during Durga Puja time, the babus in Kolkatta take away all the 'Rui machli' from Dhaka. One of the most remarkable things I learnt was that there were only 5 -6 traffic signals in the whole of the city!!!.......the city faced constant power cuts and hence, traffic police stood at all important junctions and waved their wands which displayed the red and green light at the switch of a button to regulate the automobiles.
We reached his plant at around 7:30am. It was a hi-tech power plant which was actually floating on a river. After a couple of hours of running around with the engineer in charge, I gave a presentation to the management about our comapny and product. Later, I shared a tasty lunch with all the employees comprising of ghee rice and chicken curry. I could feel a thousand eyes upon me in that cafeteria and I probably understood how a 'firang' would feel in a similar situation when he travels to India.
At round 2pm I was escorted back to my hotel room in another car. On the way back, we passed the 'Banga Bandhu National Stadium' which I had seen so often on TV. We also passed the museum and the driver told me a very interesting story about it. He told me that since Begum Khalida Zia was in power, the museum displayed only memoirs and photos of her late father General Zia. He said that after elections if Sheikh Hasina comes to power, she will get all his photos replaced with those of her late husband!!.......so much for the history of the nation....
I guess I had seen most of what Dhaka had to offer. I had a delicious Thai dinner that night and prepared for my departure the next day. I had to spend another half a day at the airport, cause my return flight was delayed by over 5 hours, after checking in, which meant I couldn't leave the airport terminus. I watched the pirated version of the movie 'Main Hoon Naa' along with other travellers and spent some time talking to another fellow passenger who was a frequent traveller. By late evening I landed back in Kolkatta and took a much needed nap in my hotel room there.
However, as I lay there on the bed I couldn't but think back to a lot of things I had learned in the last 48 hours. I thought to myself that if we felt India is 10 years behind the US in development, how far back is Bangladesh.......India belonged to the 'third world', wonder which world our neighbour belonged too...
Would I go back there??......Definitely. Dhaka is surely not a tourist destination, but it gives you a different perspective of the world we live in. All in all this was one journey I doubt I'll ever forget.
----------
Before I publish the post, I must darw you attention to the national currency of Dhaka and a funny incident that happened at the Bank of India, Dadar branch when I had gone to collect some 'Dollars' for my visit.
The conversation took place in Marathi, but I have translated it in English for general reading -
Me: "Ma'am, Do you know what is the currency of Bangladesh?"
Ma'am: "Yeah.....it's called 'TAKKA'. Acha listen....when you come back bring back more than two takkas.....or else they'll call you 'Do Takke ka Insaan'....hahahahaha"
Comments
This one is for all those who read my previous blog - 'Experiences of a life time' and exclaimed...."u've been to Dhaka!!!!"
So, I finally jotted down a long overdue blog of my travel there. It's a long blog becuase I had to describe all that I saw and felt. So, if you actually read the entire thing and reached this stage.....please accept my congratulations :)
I hope you enjoyed and feel free to share you thoughts.
And dude, you seriously must put in more efforts in proof-reading.
Can I admit that I skipped the middle part of your post but chuckled through whatever I read. My first roomie in the US was Deepa from Dhaka and I was shocked to find out that she speaks Bangla and not Urdu. So I was Shumita and your jijaji was Beemoll.