The rickshaws are personalized and decorated with colorful paintings and murals of everything from famous Bollywood actors, cricket players and global politicians to animals, birds and flowers. Some have pictures of mosques, village scenes or famous buildings. Some might carry political statements (portraits of Saddam Hussein or Osama bin laden). A few tell stories but most are just there to look colourful.
Each rickshaw is hand made and most of them come from one place. I have not yet visited the village, but most of them are made then customized by the person who rents them out or the renter. A rickshaw is basically a half of a bicycle with a carriage on two wheels instead of the back wheel. The carriage is made of wood and metal and welded on to the front end. There are no gears, and the breaks only control the front wheel. The more decorous rickshaws are surprisingly expressive and will often have portraits of family members, national heroes, and Bollywood stars along with the rickshaw walla’s phone number.
Some rickshaw wallas seem to have painted their very dreams onto their vehicles. The power of the human spirit is constantly on display in this city where hope can seem to be justifiably lost.
Rickshaws are one of Dhaka's most famous sights and one that you can't fail to see. With 400,000 rickshaws on its busy streets, it's no wonder that some describe Dhaka as "the rickshaw capital of the world". They weave in and out of the traffic, as much a part of the landscape as the people and the vehicles.
Bdesh is the perfect environment for rickshaws. The land is flat, flat-- and that matters when you are hauling a 150 pound bike (before passengers), effectively with no breaks. There is an enormous population of unskilled laborers who flood to Dhaka in order to find work. There is a similarly large population of people who cannot afford to travel by compressed natural gas baby taxi. And everyone hates to walk too far in Bangladesh, it’s just too hot.
From a passenger perspective, when the wheels hit a bump or an unexpected turn is made, you want to see it coming. I have definitely caught unexpected air on a couple of speed bumps. The seat is about 10 inches deep, so my American butt made sitting comfortably a little more tricky. As the rickshaws weave through traffic, a small touch from a car could send the passengers flying onto the asphalt.Ironically, because they cannot change directions well, they pretty much rule the road. The classic move is to cross four lanes of traffic without even checking to see if it’s safe. The passengers ensure safety by putting out the "magic hand," which is far more respected than turn signals or laws of physics in Dhaka. Rickshaws quite literally expect cars to screech to a halt when they see the outstretched palm. Something we might take for granted in America is that taxi drivers have a driver’s license. In Dhaka, if you can pedal, you can start a business.
When there is little traffic, it is the perfect speed for a city as overwhelming as Dhaka. You can't truly take it in from the car: the heat, the smell, the noise, the colors. Walking is a bit too slow, the heat gets to you quickly, people approach you and occasionally touch you and a Bideshi like myself is bound to draw a crowd. Rickshaws move at about 6-8 miles per hour. And yet in Dhaka it’s important to keep moving and generate a breeze. Rickshaws can accomplish this masterfully.
I know when I leave Dhaka I will miss the ring of the rickshaw bell that now sometimes makes me want to strangle somebody. I’ll miss the “rickshaw, boss?” and I’ll miss the roller coaster rides. It is an important Dhaka experience, and one that I am grateful to have had.
