“We can’t guarantee you’ll fall for Dhaka’s many charms, but sooner or later you will start to move to its beat, and when that happens Dhaka stops being a terrifying ride and starts becoming a cauldron of art and intellect, passion and poverty, love and hate. Whatever happens, this is one fairground ride you’ll never forget”
Does it get any cheesier then that? Any attempt to sum up this city falls short. Dhaka cannot be summed up in a single phrase. Dhaka is a hard city to like. And even harder city to live in. Dhaka is noisy, there is construction everywhere and cars honk constantly. Cars do not signal, rickshaws do not signal, buses with people spilling out of windows and doors and scores of people on the roof do not even think of signaling. Even if they did, most of them have no lights. Two-lane streets turn into four or five.
Dhaka is dirty. Trash lines up on the side of the road. Lakes are filled with debris. The air is heavy with dust and smoke, and blue skies are really hard to come by because of the smog. My lungs feel like I am smoking a pack of Marlboro red a day.
Dhaka is fascinating, confusing, curious, and friendly. Dhaka is full of colors and never boring or dull. I never felt more welcomed anywhere else before. And my rudimentary knowledge of Bangla is met with never ending praise.
But with each passing day, Dhaka becomes more enjoyable. I work hard to like this city and it is paying off now. It will be hard living somewhere else, somewhere where streets are clean, sidewalks exists, and you can walk.
Our life in Dhaka is in no way representative of what life is like for the majority of the population. We have incredible privileges in the city, while most of the population lives on a couple of dollar a day. Dealing with the guilt does not come naturally. You can try to be generous, but what you can offer is only a drop in a bucket and it’s hard not to get discouraged. It's especially heart breaking when it comes to street children.
On plus side, it is impossible not to be grateful when you come home to a bottle of clean water or cold beer and a fridge full of food.
Oh, Dhaka!!!! You’re not so horrible after all.
lovely notes on Dhaka.
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