Bangladesh - Land of the Bangla-speaking People

In 1947, when British colonial India was partitioned into the Islamic Republic of Pakistan and the Republic of India, Pakistan consisted of West Pakistan, which is Pakistan as we know it today, and a separate piece of land thousands of km away called East Pakistan that became present day Bangladesh.

Bangladesh literally means: "land of the Bangla-speaking people" which is a reminder of one of the main factors (recognition of Bangla (Bengali) as an official state language) that led to the build-up of resistance to being joined as one country with West Pakistan. This resistance culminated in a bloody war that eventually led to an independent People's Republic of Bangladesh in 1971.

typical Bangladesh village scene

The Bangladeshis are very proud of their culture, language and history. There is even a Mother Language Day that has been observed since 1952, and is still observed today, to commemorate the struggle to establish Bangla as the national language. When speaking to people we've met here, we've found that, although there is an acknowledgment that they are still a very poor country, there is much pride in Bangladesh having come a long way since gaining independence. The population explosion since the 1970's is attributed to significant improvements in child mortality rates and improved quality of life. Women are still more likely than men to be illiterate and girls now have free schooling all way through senior school while boys are only subsidised for their junior school years. We have also been told several times by very proud Bangladeshis (mostly men as we have rarely encountered women who speak any English) that their current Prime Minister is their second female Prime Minister since independence and that the Home Minister and Foreign Minister are also both female too, a fact that somehow seems incongruous with the absence of women in public areas and the strict purdah dress observed by the few that you do see around (except in Dhaka).

"Okay, listen now, if you kids don't get this one right - there'll be trouble!"

More than any of the sites we've seen (and we've seen many wonderful ones), the greatest asset this country has to share with tourists is the hospitality of its people. It is not uncommon to be invited home for a meal by someone you've met randomly on the street (although the price is often being paraded around like a celebrity to meet the entire village). There are only two guide books available for Bangladesh, The Lonely Planet and the Bradt Guide, and they both list the Bangla people on the list of the country's Top Ten attractions and we concur wholeheartedly.

Tea with Rupa and Mom at their home in Srimangal

That said, there have been plenty of great sites to explore. One of our first was in Putia, near Rajshahi, that boasts some of the country's oldest Hindu temples still standing after the 1970's war.

1823 Shiva temple in Puthia

From Rajshahi we took our first Bangladeshi train journey to Khulna near the Sundarbans. Although the rail network is not huge, the trains that do operate are efficient and first class travel is comfortable with private compartments and waiters that serve tea in real china cups.

While Bangladesh is poor in some ways, it is incredible to see that unemployment is unheard of (less than 3%) and EVERYONE is doing some sort of mini-business/service. The villages are a hive of activity and you can get anything made or fixed very cheaply and quickly. The village economies are light years ahead of ours at home: in SA you can't find a tractor for love of money, while in Bangladesh most farmers share these mini-tractors that double up as water pumps, threshers and electricity generators. Villages can have a borehole sunk for less than $100 (R700) while in SA you can pay 100 times that! One downside of this full employemnt is that invariably hotels employ double the number of people they need and then you have service staff bursting into your room every hour to check if you "need anything?" or if "I can help you". We quickly learnt to lock the doors, but then they just knock loudly, you get out of bed, and they ask "need anything?" Evil glares do not dissuade them!

In Khulna our primary mission was to book a boat trip around the Sundarbans, the large delta of rivers and mighty mangrove swamps in southern Bangladesh where the water from the Himalayas flows into the sea. There aren't many boats that tour the Sundarbans and the few that do were all booked for the dates we wanted. The only thing we could do was book a private boat tour, just for the two of us. Although a little more expensive, it turned out to be a pretty good option as we had the guide all to ourselves to answer our million questions, lots of flexibility as to where we went and no other noisy guests to scare off the animals. The boat was small but very comfortable and our crew cooked up the most delicious meals while we lazed about on deck and kept our eyes pealed for Bengal Tigers. We didn't see any tigers although the fact that a person is eaten by a tiger in this area every 3 days kept us alert all through our 3 day tour. We had two security guards with very big shot guns follow us everywhere we went.

Chilling on out on our boat in the Sundarbans

The view from our boat while cruising the mangrove swamps of the Sundarbans

Let's go get those tigers! - our very brave security guards in the Sundarbans

We took some lovely, messy walks - security guards in tow - through thick, gooey, glistening, chocolate pudding mud in the mangrove forests that sucked in our every footfall. The mangrove forests were teeming with life: loads of birds, crabs, lizards and 5 different species of snakes that Dave kept trying to pick up in between (unsuccessfully) trying to catch mud skippers. We saw a green vine snake hanging from a tree while it was also trying to catch mud skippers, an unidentifiable snake basking in the sun, and a Dog Headed Water snake lying in the mud, and best of all, a Monocled Cobra swimming across the river in a hell of a hurry to get to the other side. We cooled off with a swim in the sea of the Bay of Bengal although it is not advisable to attempt a bikini-clad dip being, as we are, in a conservative Muslim country. Having little experience with which clothes are best for a fully-clothed swim, Rejane at first made the unfortunate choice of a t-shirt that became very clingy and revealing once wet and then had to quickly scramble to put on something a little more modesty-preserving.

Getting nice and messy catching crabs in the mud

Stomping around in the muddy mangrove forests

No bikinis allowed in the Bay of Bengal! (Our hosts couldn't bare to look!)

From Khulna we took the very luxurious early 1900's "Rocket", a paddle steamer that cruises slowly down the river and harks back to the days of the British Raj. Meals are served at a long, wooden, 30-seater dinner table with white table-cloths and uniformed waiters who serve your afternoon tea in delicate china tea sets (they really know how to serve tea in this country, I say, Old Chap, What?)

Afternoon tea and cookies while floating down the river on the old Rocket steamer

Just couldn't resist doing the Leonardo and Kate pose while on the steamer...

View from the Rocket...villages that dot the river banks

We reluctantly disembarked from the luxury of the Rocket in Barisal where we explored the busy markets and picturesque villages. One fun part of Bangladesh is the vehicles: the most common is the bicycle powered, 3 wheel rickshaw which are everywhere and are used by everyone to go even short distances. In Dhaka alone there are supposedly 600,000 rickshaws! Then you get the Ban which is the bakkie/pickup version of the bicycle rickshaw which has a flat bed and can load unbelievable quantities of goods piled meters into the air. Then there is the auto rickshaw (aka baby taxi or CNG) which is a motorbike version of the rickshaw which normally runs on compressed gas (CNG = Compressed Natural Gas). You also now get an electric rickshaw (see photo below) which has a battery and is charged up at night, and then can cover 120km the next day, almost silently as it has no engine. Lastly, of course, there are cars. In Bangladesh, 90% of cars are expensive Japanese models which is unusual when one considers that in India 90% of cars are cheap Indian brands (Tata, Maruti Suzuki and Mahindra). The reason for this we're told is that Bangladesh has no middle class: just a very rich class and a poor class while India has a huge middle class...

Electric baby taxi - Bangladesh leads the way in green transport!

All aboard the school bus! (another type of bicycle rickshaw)

Around Barisal - busy markets

"Let's show these locals what an African man can do... ok I'm tired now"

"Haa, but can you carry bricks on your head, while walking a plank and looking cool at the same time?"

After Barisal we boarded another less luxurious cockroach boat further down the river to explore the little islands that dot the Bay of Bengal. These islands don't appear in any guide books or even on the internet so as expected this was quite an adventure. Our first stop was Hatia Island where we took on the 4 hour mission to get to its very southern most tip and cross over to the even smaller island of Nidjim Dwip. After a noisy and bumpy 2 hour auto-rickshaw ride, an hour wait for the ferry, another hour on an even bumpier bicycle rickshaw and yet another hour of walking - with our backpacks - in the sweltering heat, we finally made it to the one "hotel" on Nijum Dwip Island.

On the mission to Nidjim Dwip: "Okay, that's it - I've had it with this heat, the boats, the crowds..."

The next morning, at breakfast, we were offered a live crab by the restaurant owner. With much sign language we managed to negotiate for a crab curry to be cooked for our lunch which we ate very messily and with relish while trying to ignore the open-mouthed stares of about 30 local guys. In rural Bangladesh we've been stared at with undisguised fascination a whole lot more than we've stared at the local people and surroundings. The two most common reactions are the "stop dead in your tracks call your friends and stare" and the "stop dead in your tracks, jaw falls open and stare" - extra clever people follow these moves up with a "how are you my friend!" which means you can get invited to their house if you smile back...

On a trip where we have been more than just impressed with the culinary delights, Bangladesh wins first prize in the great food category. The Achilles heel in this subcontinent's repertoire, however, is definitely breakfast. A fried egg with a roti or chapati is the closest you can to a vaguely recognisable breakfast while cornflakes, only very very occasionally available, are a mystery to chefs (we were once served cornflakes that had been boiled up like jungle oats!). We have at times given up and gone local by ordering mutton and vegetable curries with rotis for our breakfast. Another potential minefield is ordering drinks - if you're not fast enough to prevent it, you are likely to get a dollop of salt in your fruit juice or yogurt drink - Dave has even been asked if he preferred a sweet or salty chocolate milkshake!

And the prize for the best meal eaten in Bangladesh goes to...Freshly cooked crab curry.

After a couple of days of lazing around Nijum Dwip we missioned back to Hatia to catch the steamer to the next Bay of Bengal island, Sandwip. The trip back to Hatia was crowded with people, bicycles and even a cow that proceeded to vacate its bowels in the tiny boat but Rejane was well protected from getting messy on the women's side of the boat where she was looked after like a special guest.

On the boat from Nijum Dwip back to Hatia with the cow with the loose bowels

On arrival at Sandwip Island we were told that there weren't any hotels at all and were taken to the government offices by a rickshaw driver who had no idea what on earth to do with two foreign tourists. The perplexed government officials took a few minutes to inquire as to why the hell we'd want to see Sandwip Island and, while failing to understand our explanation that it was all very interesting to us, kindly invited us to stay at the government guest house for a nominal fee, the equivalent of about R4 ($0.50). We were very comfortable at the guest house and the next morning had the pleasure of meeting the Island's magistrate who allowed us to sit in on his very speedy court proceedings (20 cases in 45 minutes!) after which we were invited to a local wedding lunch. While at lunch we mentioned that the steamer to Chittagong, our next stop, would be leaving soon to which the magistrate said, "Don't worry, relax, I am also taking the steamer to Chittagong today and they can't leave without me..."

The very photogenic villages on Sandwip Island. Every house has a pond like this used for bathing/washing (behind the orange curtain)

At the wedding lunch with the magistrate

Our next stop was the Chittagong Hill Tracts, the one area of Bangladesh that's not as flat as a chapati. The history of this "tribal" area is quite complicated and the politics is still somewhat unstable. During the war in 1970/1, the governor of the area supported West Pakistan and fled to Pakistan after independence. The indigenous people of the area are ethnically closer to Burmese people than to the ethnically Indian Bangladeshi majority. The source of the current political tension seems to stem from the influx and growth of the ethnically Indian Bangla population into the area and the displacement of the indigenous tribes by large dams built recently.

In Rangamati, the first of the Chittagong villages we visited, our boatman wouldn't take us to any of the indigenous Chakma villages as communities here have kept themselves pretty much separate from one another. It was also a little difficult to get much enjoyment from the main tourist attraction, the beautiful lake, which was created when the dam was built causing the loss of farming land and of many indigenous village communities and led to many being displaced.

On the lake in Rangamati

After Rangamati we headed to another Chittagong Hill Tract village, Bandarban. Here the communities, while preserving their own ways of life, do not seem to have the issues that Rangamati suffers from as there was no displacement from dam building. We stayed at the Hillside Resort which has lovely traditionally built bamboo cottages. We spent a few lazy days exploring the markets and the beautiful indigenous Marma villages set in the thick forests. We also indulged a few times in the number one local desert dodi/dui which is a delicious cross between creme caramel and yoghurt and can be found everywhere at giveaway prices - yummy!! Bangladesh generally has good food - the only challenge is ordering it as the Bangladeshi's don't believe in menus... you just sit down and they say "what do you want" (in Bangla), and you say "what do you have" and they look at you confused, and then we say, with our hands, "bring everything" and then all sorts of plates arrive of mostly meats and a few veg dishes and we pig out and send back what we can't eat, and after a main course extravaganza, dessert (dui!!!), cold drinks and tea it comes to around R25 ($4) for both of us! Rejane hasn't cooked in 6 months... I wonder why?!

Meeting a Marma tribal person (left) and a Bangla guy (right) in the Bandarban forests

Cruising the river on a local boat in Bandarban

Shopping for a nice fat cow for Eid ul Adha

VIDEO: A typical day in the market in Bandarban

"Tribal" women smoking cigars while bargaining at the Eid market in Bandarban

Outside our traditional bamboo hut in Bandarban

View from our hotel in Bandarban

From Bandarban, it was straight north to Sylet, the tea-growing region of Bangladesh. We didn't spend anytime in the capital city of the Sylet region but headed directly to Srimangal, a lovely village where lots of tea is grown. There we met Roni, a lovely guide, who took us around to tea estates, introduced us to Srimangal's many-layered tea and showed us around his village (if you're planning to spend any time in Srimangal, we'd highly recommend you contact Roni on: 01719239367)

The many-layered tea made in Srimangal is a well guarded secret and the layers really are completely distinct in colour and taste (see pic below).

With Roni, our guide, at a Srimangal tea estate

Enjoying 5 and 10 layer tea

After Srimangal we had no choice but to head to Dhaka to apply for our new India visas - it was the reason we came to Bangladesh, after all. We were a little apprehensive as we'd been told several times that Dhaka was noisy, polluted and traffic-jammed. Well that it is, but the craziness grows on you and Old Dhaka is a labyrinth of interesting market streets that offer a complete assault on all your senses, a real must-do experience.

The crazy streets of old Dhaka

At a perfumery in Old Dhaka

Typical Bangladesh/Indian wiring... an art not a science.

After a week waiting for the India embassy to issue our Indian visas so that we can continue our bike journey there - they turned our visa application down! Bastards! They rudely said we must go and get new visas in South Africa - and then chased us out of the embassy and wouldn't allow us to enquire why our visa was rejected.

So that curveball means we're on a flight tomorrow to Nepal to try and get an Indian visa there - apparently that Indian embassy is more helpful. And then we'll be back on our way to Darjeeling to fetch our bike and our luggage and to carry on our Indian travels... unless of course we are seduced by some Nepalese adventures...

The 57 hour Express to Calcutta

From Manali we took two days to get to Kalka, from where we were to catch the train to Kolkata (Calcutta). Rejane had done some very diligent research and managed to figure out the fairly complicated but surprisingly efficient Indian Rail booking system. Being in the middle of school holidays, the time of Diwali and a very big festival dedicated to the Goddess Durga, all we could get were waitlisted tickets for our Kalka to Kolkata train ride. We’d been assured that since we were high up on the waiting list, we’d have no problem getting seated on the day of travel.

We arrived at Kalka train station around 5pm and spent a hot, sweaty hour getting the bike wrapped and packed for the train trip. Then we settled in for the 3 hour wait until the waitlist charts were prepared and we’d know whether or not we had seats on the train. At around 9.30pm, when the waitlist sheets were released, we were told we had not been granted seats – it was the middle of holiday season afterall. We were then told to wait until 11pm to speak to the train station manager who might be able to organise something. At 11pm, the train station manager was nowhere to be found. Now what? The bike was already booked, packed and paid for to go onto Kolkata.

That was when the chaos kicked in: our enquiries as to whether or not there was any way at all that we could get onto the train led to us being surrounded by several people, including the packing department guys, some police/military officers, porters and a couple of other random people all with very little English and each confidently claiming that he’d organised everything for us and knew what would happen next... each had a different story...:
1. we would be getting 2nd class tickets straight to Kolkata.
2. we would get 3rd class tickets to Delhi (about one third of the way to Kolkata) and would be given new tickets there to go immediately onto Kolkata.
3. we would get some ticket to Delhi and would have to wait there for a few days to get a new ticket to Kolkata.
4. we had to buy new unreserved class tickets for Kolkata (this option meant being squashed with an uncountable number of people on hard wooden seats for the 33 hour ride).

Better not misplace those elephants...R1000 maximum liabilty claim

By 11.45pm we were sitting (listening at various times to whichever one of our ‘organisers’ was not running around at that point organising our tickets and/or tea) on the train station platform, hot, exhausted, hungry, not knowing whether or not we’d get on this train or not or have to find a hotel room at midnight in a small town we’d never been to before. About 5 minutes later and with 5 minutes to spare before the train was to leave and still with absolutely no idea as to what our eventual fate was to be, Dave was ushered to a desk on the platform, ordered to buy new unreserved class tickets (the class with the wooden benches that always has space for just one more) and we were ushered into comfortable 2nd class seats ...??? ...but we were not complaining... – this only took us to Delhi though. To have been in various states of limbo and confusion, surrounded by chaos for 7 hours and then for everything to turn out OK in the last 5 minutes is, well... what can I say... just a very special, very Indian experience...

Our bike-packing wallahs

We arrived in Delhi at 6am in the morning tired, lugging our backpacks, helmets and all the heavy bike stuff. No tickets to Kolkata were available for that day but we managed to get tickets to leave for Kolkata the following morning so we were forced to enjoy the Delhi chaos for a night. We arrived in Kolkata two days later – having taken 57 hours to complete what was meant to be a 33 hour express train journey.

The Victoria Memorial and Museum - Kolkata

As big Indian cities go, Kolkata is one of the nicest. It’s still an Indian city though, so after enjoying some especially lovely high teas and getting our Bangladeshi visas, we hightailed it out of there and headed north for Darjeeling.

Stopping for tea under a very big, old tree on the way to Darjeeling

The bike ride to Darjeeling was beautiful. The lush, tropical landscape is a dead ringer for Port St, Johns on the Transkei Wild Coast. Darjeeling itself is prime tea growing area surrounded by the snow-capped Himalayas, with views of Kanchendzonga, which at 8600m is the world’s 3rd highest mountain. We got a great hotel room with panoramic views of the surrounding landscape and mountain tops and all we had to do for spectacular sunrises was to stretch over, pull open our curtains and wha-la!

Beautiful views from the road of rice-paddies and farmers at work

A view from our hotel room in Darjeeling - Kanchendzonga in the distance

From Darjeeling we were on our bike again and up to the magical province of Sikkim. This used to be a kingdom under India’s protection, but a referendum in the 70’s resulted in the abandonment of the monarchy and Sikkim’s absorption into India. Sikkim is thought by many to be the true location of the fabled Shangri La, which is thought to be a derivative of Sikkim’s “Wild Alder Pass” or Sangali La. True or not, this is definitely one of the most beautiful regions we’ve ever seen (ja, we know we’ve said that before but this country just keeps on surprising).

Sikkim is mountainous, but most of it is below 3000m above sea level and so it is covered with lush, pristine, indigenous forests dripping with vines, streams and rivers – some a startling bright blue, as well as all sorts of colourful flowers, butterflies and birds (including the Red Jungle Fowl – the original chicken). Towering in the west is the snow-capped Kanchendzonga.

We headed first to the capital Gangtok which, despite being a bustling city, is still enclosed by forest – most cities are quickly deforested but somehow Gangtok’s forest has remained intact. There we spent a night before heading to nearby Rumtek the home of one of Sikkim’s most important monasteries. We stayed 3 nights at a beautiful lodge in a wood-panelled room with a balcony overlooking the forested valley.

The lodge offered good food comprising of Tibetan/Ladakhi vegetarian meals including the ever-popular momo’s which are steamed dumplings filled with minced veggies and a lovely balcony with spectacular views from which to enjoy our meals. After a few days of veggie food, we located a non-vegetarian restaurant in the village and feasted on chicken and fish. The funny thing with many parts of both Buddhist and Hindu India is that eating meat is frowned upon and thus often only available at equally frowned upon alcohol bars. These bars generally consist of small curtained cubicles where you can secretly drink your beer and/or eat your chicken safe from the disapproving stares of the general public...

The working Buddhist monastery in Rumtek

In Rumtek we decided to explore the forest and ended up semi-lost for a few hours clambering through the thick vegetation beneath towering trees, wondering about the prevalence of tigers and king cobras in the area, until we emerged in tiny village where we walked back to Rumtek along the road. We also visited the Rumtek monastery which was colourful and filled with the usual Buddhist imagery of crazy fire-breathing monster-things and a huge statue of Buddha - for a religion without a god, Buddhism certainly incorporates a lot of other magical beings... The monastery did have a lot of positive environmental messages and was doing some good recycling work.

Getting lost in Sikkim's lush forests

Breakfast and spectacular forest views - on the balcony of our hotel room in Rumtek

From Ravang La we travelled on to the town of Pelling which faces the mighty Kanchendzonga mountain. Here again we were blown away by the beautiful hotel room - complete with ensuite bathroom, balcony looking straight at the peaks and satellite TV - for just R80 a night… We did a couple of day trips from Pelling doing some of the best biking so far on empty roads through dense forest with the odd waterfall on to the road to keep you cool. First we visited Khecheopalri Lake, a beautiful peaceful lake filled with fish and surrounded by forest littered with prayer flags. Prayer flags are basically flags with prayers or mantras written on them that are thought to spread good vibrations to all livings beings when fluttered by the wind – nice thought, though like most superstitions completely illogical and can lead to beautiful natural places becoming defaced with millions of flags fluttering.

We visited another temple called Tashiding, which was interesting, but far surpassed by the beautiful scenery on the ride there and back. After 4 days in Pelling we headed to our favourite spot in Sikkim, a brilliant homestay on top of the steepest road we’ve seen, in the village of Chakung.

VIDEO: The road to Khecheopalri Lake - forests, waterfalls, snow-capped mountain views, landslides..

Khecheopalri Lake - surrounded by thick, indigenous forest

The Kazi Koti homestay (www.kazikoti.weebly.com) is the old home of one of Sikkim’s democracy leaders who fought the monarchy there. It is surrounded by a beautiful flower garden and working organic farm and is managed by his Grandson, Bhaila. The rooms are comfortable and the view of Kanchendzonga breathtaking. We ate meals with the family in the kitchen – with meat! - and enjoyed millet beer, a clearer version of umqombothi back home. The home had beautiful hanging chairs where we chilled drinking tea and reading books. Great spot!

The stunning front garden of the Kazi Koti homestay

Relaxing in a garden swing chair

More swinging chairs, breathtaking views and beautiful organic gardens

Making our contribution to the Kazi Koti gardens - two guava trees

Our very hospitable family in Chakung

After about 2 weeks in Sikkim we headed back to Darjeeling, where we left our motorbike at our friendly hotel and hopped on a bus to Bangladesh. We entered at the very north of the country at a little-used border so we were the centre of attention, attracting lots of crowds, as tourists are virtually unheard of here.


Our first night we slept in a basic hotel with big spiders and then headed to Rangpur, the first large town. Bangladesh is a very flat country with thousands of rivers in every direction. The giant Himalayan snow peaks and glaciers we visited in north India melt and flow down mostly towards Bangladesh with a third of the country looking like a giant river delta… one of the reasons why Bangladesh is so prone to flooding.

Bicycles and 3-wheeler rickshaws everywhere - a welcome relief from the noisy, polluted traffic-jammed Indian towns

It is a beautiful country which feels like it is how India must have been 30 years ago. There’s very little motorised transport and the towns are filled with many thousands of 3-wheeler bicycle rickshaws which transport everyone all over the city for between R0-50c to R2 a trip. It is almost eerie travelling silently on a rickshaw amongst hundreds of others along road devoid of the very noisy traffic that India has, like a silent travel movie. Rangpur also has a new phenomenon which is the electric three wheeler taxi, a smart looking car-thing with a motorbike front which can take 4 – 6 passengers and runs on electricity. To buy, this taxi cost just R10,000 (US$1,300) and takes 8 hours to charge on a normal household socket and can cover 120km on a single charge. It’s made in China and is definitely something that other countries, including South Africa! should consider for inner-city transport.

The rural landscape is lush green with endless rice paddies as far as the eye can see, with the odd banana grove here and there and tree-filled villages.

VIDEO: Cruising on the back of a 3-wheeler rickshaw taxi in Rangpur

Rangpur is a bustling university town with an awesome night bazaar filled with all sorts of weird and wonderful delights and it is where we began our street food fetish, kebabs, mini curries, breads, fruits, chai, sweetbreads - all costing just a few cents - is our standard dinner these days. While India is heaven for vegetarians, Bangladesh would be hell, there is meat in almost everything (which suits us carnivores just fine) although you have to look into the pots carefully or you could be in for a lung and tripe surprise...Other than the bazaar, though, Rangpur didn’t have much to detain us so we bordered another bus and headed to Rajshahi, another large town on the banks of the Padme river. In the evenings the riverside has a dilapidated boardwalk vibe with chai and food stalls which we’ve visited while watching the sun set across the river with India visible in the distance.

This country is just one massive, beautiful rice paddy!

Bangladeshi’s are friendly people who have a standard series of questions:
What is your name?
What is your country?
What is your occupation?
What is your qualification? (Bachelor? Masters?)
What is the purpose of your visit?

And Dave seems to be the man (or the badboy) for having a Bangladeshi girlfriend although sometimes Rejane is thought to be his interpreter… Dave has great novelty power here and can stop traffic by just crossing the road and can turn every head in the market with his (good? white?) looks!