So I've skipped the 7th which I also spent in Dinajpur, but hopefully I'll get back to it; I started, I just never finished!
So after the 2 days kickin' around in Dinajpur I got myself on a bus to a little town called Rangpur. I don't remember why I had planned to go there, there weren't really any major sites there, but I was going!
Uttam came in the morning and helped me find the right one (which was very helpful). He sat and fussed with my seat and my bag until the bus was pulling out, and he hopped down and sent me on his way. Of course before I left he called ahead to his best friend Bashir in Rangpur so that I would have someone to take care of me there. I thanked him for all of his help and waved goodbye.
I hopped down from the bus while it slowed (but didn’t stop) and waved goodbye (I always wave goodbye to my buses, they are always greatly entertained by my just being on their bus!) and landed in the middle of a schwack of CNGs and rickshaws, drivers all offering (at the SAME time) to get me where I was going.
Trouble was? I had no idea where I was going!
I hadn’t planned to actually call, but I decided to step back out of the throng and texted Uttam’s friend Bashir to see if he wanted to meet somewhere and snuck into the back of a tea stall. When I plunked my bag down in an empty chair I scared the fifty or so flies to leave their spots on the table I took over and I ordered myself a cup of tea so I could look at my guidebook again. Bashir was still an hour away by bus (coming from his village) so I had to fend for myself until then. He suggested staying where I was until he arrived, but I told him I’d make my way to a hotel and meet him when he arrived.
I chose myself a hotel, finished my tea and went back into the heat of the day and the piles of CNGs and rickshaws. Once pointed in the right direction, taking the scale of the map at face value, I decided to try walking to find the hotel, so I set out on my way leaving the din and clamour of the CNG stand behind.
The spot I landed was right across from the central bus stand in Rangpur, so there was much traffic and commotion. The farther I walked the quieter it got. The buildings I passed were all industry-based kinds of shops and I saw very few houses in the street-side. Metal workers, chicken feed suppliers, mechanics, and a few buildings that COULD have been hotels but had signs only in Bangla so I really had no idea.
I kept checking my map, but I didn’t pass one thing on the way that suggested where I was going was right (or wrong, for that matter) way. I passed a technical college of some sort (closed for the weekend) and a mosque. Then I saw the largest muslim graveyard I’ve ever seen, and I took pause to consider my map again.
I figure by that point I’d walked about 3kms, and in the heat of the Bangadeshi sun carrying my backpack I was beginning to feel lazy. I stepped off the road and pulled out my book again to try and orient myself to the area, but I truly had no idea where I was. One of the guys from a feed shop across the street came over to chat, and he ushered me into his shop to chat awhile before pulling a rickshaw over to take me to the hotel I wanted to check out. About 10 minutes later with the wind blowing and the rickshaw careening around corners on tiny streets I pulled up to the area of the Golden Tower hotel. I paid the man and hopped down with my bag, taking a deep breath.
Looking around (and up up up) at all the signs I didn’t see any signs for the hotel so I walked a bit before I started asking people along the way about which way I should head. Finally when I thought I had walked too far and must have missed it (I pretty much had the map memorized by this time) I turned around to see and English sign tucked into a corner of a building that wasn’t visible from the other direction - angels on my shoulder again!
The lift was out because of load shedding (and truthfully, I *NEVER* take elevators here because if the power chose that moment to go out I’d be STUCK in there!) so though the guard tried to get the doors for me I bowed out and walked up the stairs.
I climbed up the 2 floors to the office and asked to see a room. The hotel was under construction so the first room he showed me I declined because they were surrounded by too many workers. I had it in my mind that it wouldn’t be particularly safe for me to stay somewhere like that, and though I was about to go try another hotel they showed me a room on the 5th floor that was passable. I had to take a double because there were no singles but I didn’t really care, it was only one night.
Truly, it was actually the dirtiest room I’ve been in since coming to Bangladesh. One night, that is all.
Bashir called as I finished washing my face and we arranged to meet after 15 minutes. He came with his friend Mahmud and we went off to see the sights. Well, first we went to breakfast! Tiny little diner in the style that I’ve become quite accustomed to eating in, it didn’t earn any praise in my book but it did manage to fill my belly. They boys didn’t eat, they just had mango juice while I munched on naan and some incredibly watery and tasteless daal before going on our way.
We visited a few places in fairly quick succession in Rangpur. First we went to a tiny local Kalli temple that was right around the corner from my hotel. As we were looking around a group of women came with a baby for a 100-day blessing. Because Bashiris Muslim he really couldn’t tell me much about the ceremony so we just watched for a bit and continued on our way. There was a group of musicians playing music as well, so I took some video and a few pictures before we left.
From there Bashirand I hopped in a rickshaw and Mahmud went to work. Bashirwas staying in Rangpur but his family’s village was about 2 hours north by bus, he had just arrived in town when he called me. Bashir has an English master’s degree and he was about 75% fluent so he was easy to talk with. He was in the process of applying for a job teaching in the college close to his home village and I have my fingers crossed for him.
Bashir has a complicated family life compared to most people I’ve met in Bangladesh. When he was younger his mother left the family for another man, so she was pretty much banished and has no rights to see the children or visit the family home. His father remarried and his step-mom raised him and his 2 siblings as her own and he loves her very much. The family has some farmland but no time to farm, so they rent it out to someone else that grows paddy, corn, and a few other things. They are paid in produce, so they have enough food to eat and they sell much of it to earn income.
Bashir’s father had a stroke some years ago and can no longer work, so he earns for the family and takes care of everyone. He is still in contact with his mother. She still lives in the same village, just on the other side, I can’t even imagine the awkwardness of it all! He said that he still checks up on her, and that if she ever needs help he will help her, though he cannot allow her to come to the family’s home, and they will never have a “close” relationship the way he wishes they could. Bashid is hoping to get a job teaching because it is a very respected profession, and it will allow him to live with his family and support them very well on his income.
There is more to his story, but writing nearly a week later I have lost much of the detail. Suffice it to say that his story really touched my heart, and it was obvious from talking to him that he has a gigantic capacity for love and trust, and he is an incredibly honourable person, I was glad to have met him.
So on our journey we went first to the local Rajbari, the Tajhat Palace, and toured around. The grounds were quite beautiful… stepping onto palace grounds is much like finding a little piece of paradise. The rajbari was painted white in the front, and in the back it was done in that salmon colour that people are so fond of with white trim. It was built at the turn of the 20th century by a Hindu zaminder from the Punjab. At one point in the 80s it was used as a courthouse but now it houses the Rangpur Museum. The collection was typical of what I’ve seen by now and we enjoyed checking out all the small displays while we chatted.
Bashir and I walked around the grounds around a pond while weaving between cuddly couples and I found my way into the back garden through a gate that was left open by the gardeners. I enjoyed being outside in the peace and quiet far from cars and traffic, it was very nice.
From there we went to the nearby Kalli Mandir (temple) and I took a few pictures. The caretaker wasn’t there so we couldn’t go in, but we could see through the gates so it was still cool. There were some beautiful trees in the yard (plumeria and red hibiscus). Kalli’s figure is scary, always made of balck stone with big eyes and a red tongue poking out of her mouth. I will have to research more about Hinduism when I get home (man, I used to know so much about it and now it’s all I can do to remember the few main gods!).
After that we went to Carmichael College, Bashir's alma mater, named for a former governor of Bengal sometime in the early 1900s. I took a few pictures but mostly it was an old campus that seemed mostly to be empty of students. The local residence hall was closed for a month because there had been some fighting between two of the campus political groups (they get quite rough sometimes in Bangladesh), and there was no guarantee it was going to open again. In the meantime kids are living at a student hostel in town.
From there we went to the Rangpur Zoo. The grounds were alright, crowded with people because it was some kind of family holiday. For the first time I heard a lion roar, and it was pretty cool. I don’t know why be he was one upset kitty and he was roaring up a storm - the first roar I heard actually made the little hairs on the back of my neck stand up!! GO evolution… wow! We found our way over to them, there were 2 pairs, and I watched them awhile and took a video so you could hear them too - upload coming later!
Zoos in Bangladesh can only be visited if you can handle leaving your ideas about animal rights at the entrance gates, as they are NOT great at taking care of their charges here. My friend Morshed in Dhaka told me that they have run many stories on the condition of local zoos, and the way it contrasts with the amount of money they are given to run them and care for the animals. According to the paper they have shown that there is a great deal of funding for the local zoos, but the majority of the money goes into the pockets of the officials, and little of it goes to food and care.
So the lions, in their tiny care, were cool to see (apart from the part where they ahd pretty much NO natural habitat, and NO room to walk around) I also saw a Bengal Tiger for the first time in Bangladesh - it was sleeping, which is probably what I would be doing if I was locked in a small metal cage. My heart really went out for the animals and I found I couldn’t really stay to even enjoy the gardens because of the state of the zoo itself.
After we left we walked by the local Town Hall that was blaring music - they were hosting some kind of dance show in the evening. We decided to go check it out since it was to be starting shortly, I like watching dance shows, it would be worth the wait! As we found our way to seats I had the thought that there was NO way it was going to start any time soon, as ¾s of the seats were still empty. 90 MINUTES LATER (and not one bitchy comment from me!) things were underway. It wasn’t spectacular compared to what we had expected from the entrance price, but it was a nice way to spend a couple of hours. We left before they finished when things got a little slow; I went back to my dirty hotel and Bashid went back to his hostel. On the way we stopped for sweet and tea because I wasn’t really in the mood for dinner. The nearby restaurant where we’d eaten earlier didn’t strike my fancy, and I wasn’t really hungry anyway.
I found my way back to my hotel in rickshaw, noting that I am not really afraid of Bangladesh in the dark anymore. I still wouldn't be outside alone "late", like around midnight, but for the most part tourists are still so new here that people are far more afraid of or weirded out by me than I am by them, so the baddies seem to stay away from me thus far.
Back in my dingy room I snagged down my mosquito net (nothing worse than waking up finding that you were the target of an all-night buffet for critters that carry dengue and malaria and encephalitis!! I cringed noticing the grease smears on the wall where you'd normally lay your head and balled my sweater up into a pillow at the opposite end of the bed. Oddly, and happily, the sheets were all clean and actually smelled like the laundry, so I took tucked in and watched a bad Hollywood movie from beneath my netting, "The Project" - Oh Meg, why did you do it..., and then went to bed.
It's nice that once the lights are out you can no longer see the grime and grossness on the walls!!
In the morning Bashir called as I was getting ready to go and catch my bus, and he said he would come to meet me since he was on his way to a friend’s place nearby. We went together to the bus stand and he helped me find a bus to Bogra, AND helped me find a ticket that wasn’t marked up double with foreigner-tax. I actually waited in one of the bus stands while he did that, as too many ticket guys were doubling their fare as soon as they saw me. About 5 minutes later he came to collect me and I bought my ticket. We ran over to a snack shop and I got a couple bags of chips, a mango juice and a cold cold 7-up for the ride since I hadn’t eaten breakfast.
Bashir helped me onto the bus to find my seat and waited with me the couple minutes until the bus was pulling out of the station and continued on his way to meet his friend while I moved on to Bogra.
Bogra, Bogra, Bogra... now what was I going to see in Bogra again??.... Oh well, find out when I get there I guess! :)
So after the 2 days kickin' around in Dinajpur I got myself on a bus to a little town called Rangpur. I don't remember why I had planned to go there, there weren't really any major sites there, but I was going!
Uttam came in the morning and helped me find the right one (which was very helpful). He sat and fussed with my seat and my bag until the bus was pulling out, and he hopped down and sent me on his way. Of course before I left he called ahead to his best friend Bashir in Rangpur so that I would have someone to take care of me there. I thanked him for all of his help and waved goodbye.
I hopped down from the bus while it slowed (but didn’t stop) and waved goodbye (I always wave goodbye to my buses, they are always greatly entertained by my just being on their bus!) and landed in the middle of a schwack of CNGs and rickshaws, drivers all offering (at the SAME time) to get me where I was going.
Trouble was? I had no idea where I was going!
I hadn’t planned to actually call, but I decided to step back out of the throng and texted Uttam’s friend Bashir to see if he wanted to meet somewhere and snuck into the back of a tea stall. When I plunked my bag down in an empty chair I scared the fifty or so flies to leave their spots on the table I took over and I ordered myself a cup of tea so I could look at my guidebook again. Bashir was still an hour away by bus (coming from his village) so I had to fend for myself until then. He suggested staying where I was until he arrived, but I told him I’d make my way to a hotel and meet him when he arrived.
I chose myself a hotel, finished my tea and went back into the heat of the day and the piles of CNGs and rickshaws. Once pointed in the right direction, taking the scale of the map at face value, I decided to try walking to find the hotel, so I set out on my way leaving the din and clamour of the CNG stand behind.
The spot I landed was right across from the central bus stand in Rangpur, so there was much traffic and commotion. The farther I walked the quieter it got. The buildings I passed were all industry-based kinds of shops and I saw very few houses in the street-side. Metal workers, chicken feed suppliers, mechanics, and a few buildings that COULD have been hotels but had signs only in Bangla so I really had no idea.
I kept checking my map, but I didn’t pass one thing on the way that suggested where I was going was right (or wrong, for that matter) way. I passed a technical college of some sort (closed for the weekend) and a mosque. Then I saw the largest muslim graveyard I’ve ever seen, and I took pause to consider my map again.
I figure by that point I’d walked about 3kms, and in the heat of the Bangadeshi sun carrying my backpack I was beginning to feel lazy. I stepped off the road and pulled out my book again to try and orient myself to the area, but I truly had no idea where I was. One of the guys from a feed shop across the street came over to chat, and he ushered me into his shop to chat awhile before pulling a rickshaw over to take me to the hotel I wanted to check out. About 10 minutes later with the wind blowing and the rickshaw careening around corners on tiny streets I pulled up to the area of the Golden Tower hotel. I paid the man and hopped down with my bag, taking a deep breath.
Looking around (and up up up) at all the signs I didn’t see any signs for the hotel so I walked a bit before I started asking people along the way about which way I should head. Finally when I thought I had walked too far and must have missed it (I pretty much had the map memorized by this time) I turned around to see and English sign tucked into a corner of a building that wasn’t visible from the other direction - angels on my shoulder again!
The lift was out because of load shedding (and truthfully, I *NEVER* take elevators here because if the power chose that moment to go out I’d be STUCK in there!) so though the guard tried to get the doors for me I bowed out and walked up the stairs.
I climbed up the 2 floors to the office and asked to see a room. The hotel was under construction so the first room he showed me I declined because they were surrounded by too many workers. I had it in my mind that it wouldn’t be particularly safe for me to stay somewhere like that, and though I was about to go try another hotel they showed me a room on the 5th floor that was passable. I had to take a double because there were no singles but I didn’t really care, it was only one night.
Truly, it was actually the dirtiest room I’ve been in since coming to Bangladesh. One night, that is all.
Bashir called as I finished washing my face and we arranged to meet after 15 minutes. He came with his friend Mahmud and we went off to see the sights. Well, first we went to breakfast! Tiny little diner in the style that I’ve become quite accustomed to eating in, it didn’t earn any praise in my book but it did manage to fill my belly. They boys didn’t eat, they just had mango juice while I munched on naan and some incredibly watery and tasteless daal before going on our way.
We visited a few places in fairly quick succession in Rangpur. First we went to a tiny local Kalli temple that was right around the corner from my hotel. As we were looking around a group of women came with a baby for a 100-day blessing. Because Bashiris Muslim he really couldn’t tell me much about the ceremony so we just watched for a bit and continued on our way. There was a group of musicians playing music as well, so I took some video and a few pictures before we left.
From there Bashirand I hopped in a rickshaw and Mahmud went to work. Bashirwas staying in Rangpur but his family’s village was about 2 hours north by bus, he had just arrived in town when he called me. Bashir has an English master’s degree and he was about 75% fluent so he was easy to talk with. He was in the process of applying for a job teaching in the college close to his home village and I have my fingers crossed for him.
Bashir has a complicated family life compared to most people I’ve met in Bangladesh. When he was younger his mother left the family for another man, so she was pretty much banished and has no rights to see the children or visit the family home. His father remarried and his step-mom raised him and his 2 siblings as her own and he loves her very much. The family has some farmland but no time to farm, so they rent it out to someone else that grows paddy, corn, and a few other things. They are paid in produce, so they have enough food to eat and they sell much of it to earn income.
Bashir’s father had a stroke some years ago and can no longer work, so he earns for the family and takes care of everyone. He is still in contact with his mother. She still lives in the same village, just on the other side, I can’t even imagine the awkwardness of it all! He said that he still checks up on her, and that if she ever needs help he will help her, though he cannot allow her to come to the family’s home, and they will never have a “close” relationship the way he wishes they could. Bashid is hoping to get a job teaching because it is a very respected profession, and it will allow him to live with his family and support them very well on his income.
There is more to his story, but writing nearly a week later I have lost much of the detail. Suffice it to say that his story really touched my heart, and it was obvious from talking to him that he has a gigantic capacity for love and trust, and he is an incredibly honourable person, I was glad to have met him.
So on our journey we went first to the local Rajbari, the Tajhat Palace, and toured around. The grounds were quite beautiful… stepping onto palace grounds is much like finding a little piece of paradise. The rajbari was painted white in the front, and in the back it was done in that salmon colour that people are so fond of with white trim. It was built at the turn of the 20th century by a Hindu zaminder from the Punjab. At one point in the 80s it was used as a courthouse but now it houses the Rangpur Museum. The collection was typical of what I’ve seen by now and we enjoyed checking out all the small displays while we chatted.
Bashir and I walked around the grounds around a pond while weaving between cuddly couples and I found my way into the back garden through a gate that was left open by the gardeners. I enjoyed being outside in the peace and quiet far from cars and traffic, it was very nice.
From there we went to the nearby Kalli Mandir (temple) and I took a few pictures. The caretaker wasn’t there so we couldn’t go in, but we could see through the gates so it was still cool. There were some beautiful trees in the yard (plumeria and red hibiscus). Kalli’s figure is scary, always made of balck stone with big eyes and a red tongue poking out of her mouth. I will have to research more about Hinduism when I get home (man, I used to know so much about it and now it’s all I can do to remember the few main gods!).
After that we went to Carmichael College, Bashir's alma mater, named for a former governor of Bengal sometime in the early 1900s. I took a few pictures but mostly it was an old campus that seemed mostly to be empty of students. The local residence hall was closed for a month because there had been some fighting between two of the campus political groups (they get quite rough sometimes in Bangladesh), and there was no guarantee it was going to open again. In the meantime kids are living at a student hostel in town.
From there we went to the Rangpur Zoo. The grounds were alright, crowded with people because it was some kind of family holiday. For the first time I heard a lion roar, and it was pretty cool. I don’t know why be he was one upset kitty and he was roaring up a storm - the first roar I heard actually made the little hairs on the back of my neck stand up!! GO evolution… wow! We found our way over to them, there were 2 pairs, and I watched them awhile and took a video so you could hear them too - upload coming later!
Zoos in Bangladesh can only be visited if you can handle leaving your ideas about animal rights at the entrance gates, as they are NOT great at taking care of their charges here. My friend Morshed in Dhaka told me that they have run many stories on the condition of local zoos, and the way it contrasts with the amount of money they are given to run them and care for the animals. According to the paper they have shown that there is a great deal of funding for the local zoos, but the majority of the money goes into the pockets of the officials, and little of it goes to food and care.
So the lions, in their tiny care, were cool to see (apart from the part where they ahd pretty much NO natural habitat, and NO room to walk around) I also saw a Bengal Tiger for the first time in Bangladesh - it was sleeping, which is probably what I would be doing if I was locked in a small metal cage. My heart really went out for the animals and I found I couldn’t really stay to even enjoy the gardens because of the state of the zoo itself.
After we left we walked by the local Town Hall that was blaring music - they were hosting some kind of dance show in the evening. We decided to go check it out since it was to be starting shortly, I like watching dance shows, it would be worth the wait! As we found our way to seats I had the thought that there was NO way it was going to start any time soon, as ¾s of the seats were still empty. 90 MINUTES LATER (and not one bitchy comment from me!) things were underway. It wasn’t spectacular compared to what we had expected from the entrance price, but it was a nice way to spend a couple of hours. We left before they finished when things got a little slow; I went back to my dirty hotel and Bashid went back to his hostel. On the way we stopped for sweet and tea because I wasn’t really in the mood for dinner. The nearby restaurant where we’d eaten earlier didn’t strike my fancy, and I wasn’t really hungry anyway.
I found my way back to my hotel in rickshaw, noting that I am not really afraid of Bangladesh in the dark anymore. I still wouldn't be outside alone "late", like around midnight, but for the most part tourists are still so new here that people are far more afraid of or weirded out by me than I am by them, so the baddies seem to stay away from me thus far.
Back in my dingy room I snagged down my mosquito net (nothing worse than waking up finding that you were the target of an all-night buffet for critters that carry dengue and malaria and encephalitis!! I cringed noticing the grease smears on the wall where you'd normally lay your head and balled my sweater up into a pillow at the opposite end of the bed. Oddly, and happily, the sheets were all clean and actually smelled like the laundry, so I took tucked in and watched a bad Hollywood movie from beneath my netting, "The Project" - Oh Meg, why did you do it..., and then went to bed.
It's nice that once the lights are out you can no longer see the grime and grossness on the walls!!
In the morning Bashir called as I was getting ready to go and catch my bus, and he said he would come to meet me since he was on his way to a friend’s place nearby. We went together to the bus stand and he helped me find a bus to Bogra, AND helped me find a ticket that wasn’t marked up double with foreigner-tax. I actually waited in one of the bus stands while he did that, as too many ticket guys were doubling their fare as soon as they saw me. About 5 minutes later he came to collect me and I bought my ticket. We ran over to a snack shop and I got a couple bags of chips, a mango juice and a cold cold 7-up for the ride since I hadn’t eaten breakfast.
Bashir helped me onto the bus to find my seat and waited with me the couple minutes until the bus was pulling out of the station and continued on his way to meet his friend while I moved on to Bogra.
Bogra, Bogra, Bogra... now what was I going to see in Bogra again??.... Oh well, find out when I get there I guess! :)
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