It’s been three weeks since I’ve arrived in Dhaka. Being here for three months allows me no rush to “do everything.” I’ve only left the city itself three times: once for a day-trip to Sonargaon and twice for field visits to Gazipur and Sreepur. It’s worth it to see the actual beauty of Bangladesh and to escape Dhaka’s craziness for a bit.
My urban adventures have been typical, though not in any American sense of “typical.” My part of town is the “nice” district, again not by American standards, but the more I travel out of my district the more I realize how good I have it here. Once you get past the façade of heat, smells, random animals (contributing to the smells), constant horn-honking (the result of all-male drivers, I hypothesize), constant solicitations from rickshaw-wallahs (the day I won’t have to hear, “Reeksaw, Madam?” will be a glorious day), and of course ubiquitous poverty, it’s not that different from Chicago or New York. My usual activities are going to my friends’ apartment, to dinner or coffee, to the American and British clubs (for swimming and drinks), and shopping. I’ve only traveled out of the district once, and although there are quirkier things to find/do there, the whole ordeal is simply exhausting and a little frightening.
The hardest part of walking through the city is saying “no” to beggars. Every day breaks your heart a little, but I have to rationalize that institutional change is the only way to truly end poverty. Also some of the beggars are themselves exploited, which I don’t want to support. I could give food to the children, but even then you must be careful not to incite a mob of children begging for more. Sometimes I even get angry that a parent would make their child beg, when I see other desperately poor children who are content just carrying around their bag to collect trash and treasures. If I could describe Dhaka in one word, it would be opportunistic. I can’t judge because I’ve never been that desperate. But sometimes I am pleasantly surprised by the frequency of a simple, undemanding, “Hello Madam, howareyou?” instead of just outstretched hands and hungry eyes.
So despite the challenges of living in a big city, a totally different culture, religion, and language, an internship that involves lots of waiting for important people to talk to me, and dealing with poverty on a daily basis, I’m actually really glad to be here, on a more abstract level. Meeting other interns and Bangladeshi people has yielded many interesting and thoughtful conversations. I’m finding a place for myself, not only in research and NGO work, but also in what I want from life. My perspective, my values, and my philosophies have all been shaken but I hope to emerge with more confidence and focus. Being a feminist in a conservative Muslim country is an experience unlike anything else, but I’m trying to learn and analyze as much as possible before criticizing.
I’m actually finding it difficult to find things to write about here… it all feels so out of context but I hope maybe you can experience a little bit of Bangladesh through me. If you’re more interested in my personal life, send me an email and I’ll be happy to respond! If you’re actually interested in my research, I’ll be updating on that soon. Today I’ll leave you with my thoughts on my future career, if this whole sociology thing doesn’t work out:
Reasons Why I Should Become a Rickshaw-Wallah
-Make money
-Good exercise
-Meet lots of locals
-Practice my Bangla
-Support eco-friendly transportation
-Break through gender barriers in the workforce
-Rickshaw aesthetics
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