Our trip out of Dhaka

I have been living in Bangladesh for about 10 months now. I was pregnant when I came and because of that reason, we did not plan any trips outside of Dhaka. Abu has been working in the family business and has had to travel to Jessore and the family’s textile mill for work. While there, he saw extended family who was upset with him for not bringing the kids and me to visit yet. When we decided that the kids and I would visit the US, we also decided that it would not be right for us to leave Bangladesh without seeing more than a small part of Dhaka.

There are four ways to travel to Khulna and Jessore: car, bus, train and plane.  Car is not really an option for us because we do not own our own and my in-laws need theirs. I said no to the bus because I could not imagine sitting on a crowded bus for eight or more hours with two kids while strangers stare at me while I try to hide while breastfeeding Sam. The train, even with a private cabin, is less expensive than an airplane and I would be able to see the countryside as we go.

We arrived at the train station minutes before seven in the evening, when our train was scheduled to leave, in a huge rush, only to find out our train was delayed at least three hours. We went back home, had dinner and relaxed a bit. I was worried we would have to rush again so around ten at night I was eager to get going. We arrived back at the train station around 10:30 but the train did not come until about midnight. There is only one bridge crossing over a large river and that bridge had a crack in it so all trains were delayed anywhere from five to ten hours while the bridge was being repaired. Even with Sara and Sam, the wait was not so bad. Sara behaved herself nicely and Sam either slept or watched everything without much fuss. The only bad part was the crowd. The station itself was not overly crowded, except for our little area. I am now used to being stared at while I am on the move but it is very different while sitting in public. People literally stop midstride to look at me and they are not shy about it. People of all ages, men, women, kids, it does not matter they will stop and stare. At any given time there would be anywhere from two to ten people standing in a circle around us. Sometimes, a braver person will ask where I am from or ask Abu about the kids and me and this draws more people. Two young girls came over just to ask if they could hold Sam. They could not. Occasionally, Abu would shoo everyone away only to have them trickle back a few minutes later.  When our train finally arrived, we waiting for it to empty there were a dozen or so people who climbed off the top of the two train cars in front of us. It was hard to watch, the train is quite high and there are no ladders. They would throw a leg off the side and try to step onto the half-inch thick windowsill before jumping the rest of the way down. The train is quite high and the platform is not raised, as it is in the US. The door to get on the train is about four feet above the platform.

Sara is SUPER excited!

People climbing off the train.

When we finally made it to our private cabin, we found it was infested with small cockroaches. The train attendant sprayed the room with some bug killer and then closed up the cabin for it to be most effective. He also sprayed the rest of the cabins but the train was about to leave so we had to go sit and be settled. The spray did not have the time to work so we kept our shoes ready to smash the little buggers. It was a bit annoying but not nearly as bothersome as I thought I would find it. We were able to sleep fairly well. I woke up early and got to experience trying to pee on a rocking train. We still had a few hours left on our journey. It was great to see so much open space and nature. Everything was so very green! Rice paddies and jute fields spotted the landscape. We stopped about once an hour or so to pick up or drop off more people.

My family at 1 am.

Lucky shot out the train window.

Road to a village.

Well used bikes.

Our cabin.

Our stop was the last on the line, which was nice because the train only stopped for less than three minutes at each stop. With Two suitcases, two shoulder bags and two kids, it would have been tough to get off in time. We were nearly to Khulna and Sara started to not feel well. There was not a food or drink service during this portion of the trip so Abu would have to get off and buy a sprite from a little shop on the platform. Unfortunately, we were in the car right behind the engine and the shop was on the other side of the platform near the caboose. He was collecting his change when the horn sounded and the train started to move. He shoved the change in his pocket, had his wallet in one hand and the soda in the other and took off running. People on the train were yelling for him to jump onto a different car. Our train was actually separate from the rest so if he were to jump on to any car there would be no way for him to get to us until the train stopped again. He sprinted down the platform, dodging people as he went. About fifteen feet before he reached the end of the platform - and missing our train car - he caught up. Remember, the door is about four feet off the ground so with the soda in one hand and his wallet in the other he grabbed onto the rails, got a foot on the ladder, prayed that he would not slip, and jumped aboard. I was in the cabin with the kids worrying because we were gaining speed and Abu was not back yet. I stuck my head out the door and he was trying to catch his breath and sweating in the hall. It was all very exciting! A few sips of Sprite and Sara perked up. It was totally worth his run.

After all excitement, Sam decided he was ready for food and a nap so I took him to the top bunk and we fell asleep. Abu and Sara dozed off soon after Sam and me and we did not wake up until the train reached Khulna and the all the power was turned off. When the power went off so did our high powered AC and the heat and humidity quickly poured into our cabin. We were barely able to get off our bunks and straighten our clothes before someone was pounding on our door. Abu’s family had sent their driver to pick us up and help with our bags. He was fast and efficient. Before I really knew what was happening we were out on the platform and I pulled out my camera and started snapping random pictures.

Looking back at our train.

Cows wandered around freely. 

A Hindu monk.

On the way to the car.

Cows eating trash.

The train station was crowded with trucks carrying goods to Dhaka and it took us a while to navigate the car through the heavy traffic. Once we were away from that area, the roads were fairly clear and we made it to Abu’s aunt and uncle’s house in just a few minutes. Abu’s uncle is well known in Khulna and owns a few properties. Their house is over a medical clinic that the family started and runs. His uncle is also in the process of building a hospital near the house. The house above the clinic is the house my mother-in-law grew up in. It is large and very comfortable. Abu’s uncle is in America visiting but his aunt and cousin were there and were extremely welcoming.  We ate, showered and rested. We were only able to stay one night and were up early the next day to catch a car to Jessore. Before we left, I requested a tour of the clinic. It is a great resource for the city. I met some of the patients, which I felt bad about because I am sure I would not like it if I was introduced to some random woman when I was not feeling well but the patients did not seem to mind. Two women had just had babies and the babies were cute and healthy.

The room where we slept.

Cooking over a wood stove.

Street view from the roof.

A man selling fish.

The neighbors.

OR

OR Supplies

Gloves drying after they were washed.

The big baby died at 20 weeks and would have been 20 years old now. The little one was 12 weeks.

Labor bed.

Delivery bed for normal deliveries.

The drive to Jessore (which took us within an hours drive to the Indian boarder) took about two hours. The road was narrow and every few miles there were speed bumps by the villages. The drive was like a rally race that involves playing chicken with each oncoming vehicle. The method of driving seems to be speed up as fast as you can while swerving around traffic and then slamming on the breaks for the speed bumps and then doing it all over again. By the time we reached Jessore I was very glad to be out of the car because if I was about to get carsick. We ate at a very small, very old, and very well known restaurant near the house (I just had bread) and I requested that we walk back to the house. I was a short very crowded walk.

The restaurant.

Walking down the road.

Primary mode of transport for the narrow roads.

The family’s home in Jessore is very old. Back in the 1940s when the British left the subcontinent, they divided the land into East and West Pakistan and India. The Hindus were to stay in India and the Muslims in Pakistan. To accommodate this, house exchanges were arranged.  This house used to belong to a Hindu family and there is proof of that in the architecture of the house. There was a separate entrance for the servants of the house because of the cast system that parts of India still imposes. The toilets are separate from the showers, which I was told, is Hindu custom.  There are very cool large pillars inside the door and a courtyard in the center. Only a few people live there now and most of the huge house is closed up. Gas stoves and fuel are sold out of the front of the house. We only had a short visit while I fed Sam, Sara played and Abu ran to the bank. Too soon, we were back in the dreaded car. 

Just inside the front door.

The courtyard.

Sam hanging out in one of the bedrooms.

View from the window.

Sara and Sam with a cousin. 

After another forty minutes of stomach churning driving, we made it to the village house. I immediately went straight to the bathroom, which was the nicest squat toilet I have ever seen, and proceeded to puke until I was empty. I was feeling very bad physically and emotionally because this is the first time I was meeting these members of Abu’s family and I was running in and out of the bathroom. Everyone was so nice, they had dressed up and prepared food and all I could do was moan and puke. After an hour or two, I lost track of the time, I was starting to feel better and drank a lot of water. It turns out, pretty much the whole village came to see me and each person there encouraged me to eat. I finally agreed to food just because I felt so rude saying no so many times. I ate very little and was surprised how much better I felt after I did. I finally got up, met everyone properly, and got a tour of the village. During the whole time I was moaning inside, Sara was having the time of her life playing with all the kids outside and Abu was relaxing and exploring his old stomping grounds.  Abu toured me around, all the kids ran in front of us, and the women followed at a distance. Everyone was very curious about me.  I figure this must be what it is like to be famous, being followed around and stared at.

While I was sitting on the bed, feeling very bad, all these people and more were there to see me. One woman was kind enough to say that I was very pretty despite the fact that I am sure I was green. 

Sara and the kids.

The round thing holds rice and the doors in the bottom are for the chicken coop. 

Some of the women from the village. 

Goats, chickens, and cows roam free. On a side note, they served goat for lunch. 

During the tour the kids stayed close.

and the ladies stayed back.

Wood burning stove. These homes with the wood burning stoves also had gas options but they still prefer to use the wood. 

Even though I was sick for a while I truly enjoyed my visit to the village and look forward to going back. We only stayed during that one day and then left to go to Abu’s great aunt’s house for dinner. After the meal we left and drove to Raz Textile Mill. The drive was about forty minutes again but at night, with less traffic and the time I had to recover, I made the drive without getting sick again.

I have heard a lot about the textile mill but what I did not realize is that it is so much more than the mill. There is a whole community there. The employees live in the surrounding village. There is even a school on the property for the employee’s children. We stayed in the owner’s bungalow. It is a large two-story house with four bedrooms and three bathrooms. While an owner stays there, there is a man who takes care of the house and cooks meals. There is a guard stationed outside the door, although I felt quite safe without him. These rules about having the cook and guard were set in place by Abu’s grandfather when the mill was started back in the 1960’s. Our cook is a really nice man and an excellent cook, he loves the kids, especially Sam, and made our trip even more enjoyable. We arrived at night so we went straight to bed. The next day we explored the grounds, saw the school, the river that runs behind the mill and the mill itself. The mill produces the tread to make fabric, not the fabric itself. It is a twenty-four hour operation, has three shifts, and employs hundreds of people. They take in raw wool and spin it into different types of white thread that are shipped to different factories to weave into fabric. We stayed one more night and left very early the next morning to have breakfast in Jessore and catch a ten o’clock train home.

The owners bungalow. 

Someones home. 

School building.

Principal's office.

A new classroom.

Road to the employees homes.

Our cook lives in the white home on the right. 

The man who lives here is a security guard. He invited us in and loaned us his umbrella when it suddenly started to rain. 

MAT - Mohammed Abu Taher - Abu's Grandfather. Abu and Sam are both named after him. The family had brick fields too and introduced branding on the bricks in this area. 

Making thread.

Finishing thread.

I cannot believe this barges can go down this river!

The ferry brings people to and from the village on the other side of the river. 

The road to the factory from the river. 

By the time we packed and got the kids in order we were running very late, and it was just our luck that our train was not. We stopped at the Jessore house to pick up some groceries and just before we got out of the car, Sara threw up all over Abu’s pant leg, shoe and the car seat. Motion sickness struck again. We cleaned it all up as quick as possible and went on to another relative’s house for the shortest breakfast and visit ever.  Sara was feeling much better and the ride to the train was short. When we got to the station, we saw our train there. At this stop, the train only stays about three minutes so I knew we missed it. We had one suitcase in the doorway of the train car – not our car – when the train started moving. The station manager tried to get us to run and jump on board but there was no way I was going to do that with all our stuff, with Sara, and while carrying Sam so we pulled the suitcase off and watched the train pull away. All the sudden, everyone started to yell, whistles were blowing, and the train actually stopped. Abu told me the station manager radioed the conductor and actually had the train stop for us. We hopped on the last car and made our way up the train, which with all our stuff took Abu and a train employee a few trips. Lucky for us our cabin was in the second to last car this time and there was a door between the cars.

We settled in, killed some cockroaches, slept, woke, ate some train food (it was not horrible), slept some more, I found out that squat toilets on trains are not nearly as bad as they sound, and soon we could see the big buildings that could only be the outskirts of Dhaka City. Aziz, our driver, picked us up and about an hour later we made it home. The noise and the commotion of the city seemed so much worse than normal after the peace and quiet of the Bangladeshi countryside. Even with the bugs, and the vomiting, which really could ruin a vacation, I had a wonderful time and I cannot wait to go back. I hope that we can make regular, longer, trips there after the kids and I get back from America. However, maybe we will fly down to try and reduce the bugs and the vomiting. 

Our cabin on the way home. Abu and Sara are sleeping. 

Almost home.