(Warning: this is a long post and may contain lots of errors because I’m too tired to edit it)
Our trip into Dhaka started on Sunday night. At around 10 pm we got on a bus that looked like it was nice at one point in time (and it probably is way nicer than some of the buses here) but it was covered in dirt and had lights that looked like they were from a 70’s themed kitchen. I sat by Lauren and we stayed awake for the first little while because we were afraid of our stuff getting stolen but as the night continued we became to exhausted to care about our stuff so we fell asleep. Every time I woke up I would be so afraid; there were so many times that our bus almost hit oncoming traffic. I could literally see the bus shifting every time the driver would swerve out of the way. Finally I decided it was best to just close my eyes so that I wouldn’t realize how many times I almost died. I never want to go on a bus like that again.
We were suppose to arrive at 5:30 in the morning so that we could sleep for two hours before we rushed off to beat the Dhaka traffic but since we hit so many traffic jams on the way into Dhaka we didn’t arrive to our destination until around 8 or 9. The traffic in Dhaka is horrible because this is one of the most densely populated countries in the world.
As soon as we ate some rice and dhal we were off to New Dhaka to begin our shopping for the kids. It was a very long day and by the end of it I was so emotional I just wanted to bawl. There are so many people that you can barely breathe and when you do you wished that you hadn’t. An open sewer runs along the road and the smell of the people alone makes you sick. I just cried when I was finally alone because of the things that I saw. Crippled people are everywhere begging and most of them are that way because their family members maimed them so they could earn money. The parents drug kids so that they don’t make a sound while the parent is begging… I wish I could explain everything but it is so hard when I have nothing to compare it to. It seems as if the worst places in America are equivalent to the nice places in Bangladesh. How can I look at a beggar who obviously needs my money more than I do and tell him no or give him two, ten, or even fifty taka (1 dollar = 78 taka)? Yet so many look at you with these haunting eyes that have felt so much pain in this life and you want to give them everything. I thought of Peter and John when they healed the beggar in Acts 3, I wanted to tell these people “Silver and gold have I none but what I have I give unto thee.” But I can’t heal (or maybe I don’t have enough faith). I felt so helpless and hopeless. It was too much for me to handle on so little sleep.
After a bucket shower and some more rice and dhal (I’m tired of eating it already) I fell asleep in the dental clinic terrified of what the next day would bring.
Despite my fears for Tuesday it turned out to be a rather pleasant day even though I saw worse stuff than I did the day before. First we stopped at stadium market because we needed a restroom.
I haven’t decided what is better: Dehydration or using the bathrooms in the city. They were gross.. enough said.
Next we went to this sketchy factory looking place with a million shops in it. Mrs. Waid is very interesting shopper. I am one of those odd girls that doesn’t enjoy shopping for long periods of time. I like to just be done with it. However, Mrs. Waid is one of those shoppers who takes her time and can go all day. I’m going to be honest and say that it was boring until Lauren and I started wandering off to find things to look at. Bargaining for things is so fun here (whether or not I am good at it is to be questioned). Lauren thought that everything should be worth 50 taka so we would go up to people in the shops and when they would ask for some really high price we would say “no.. 50 taka.” They just laughed at our bargaining skills.
In the afternoon we made our way to Old Dhaka. Since it had rained in the morning the streets were covered in mud. We had to make our way down this extremely packed muddy street for about half a mile to get to the fabric stores. There was a man behind me whistling but it had an Indian hint to its melody. It helped make the experience more positive than it could have been. The Bengali people just stare at us everywhere we go but it seemed to be worse when we were in Old Dhaka. We basically get tons of attention anywhere that we go. While Mrs. Waid was haggling for some fabric I notice this little girl. She was about 10 years old and she looked horribly dirty there was stuff in her hair and she had no shoes. She had been following us around for a while like most people do. I tried to talk with her a little bit but the language barrier kept us from really communicating. So I simply smiled at her every time we made eye contact and it made her so happy (I bet she had never gotten attention from a white person before). Simpson had bought me bananas (in Bengali they are called colas) and I offered her one, I think it made her day. There are so many kids here that need love and food but in the city they live in they have no chance. It really makes me think positively about the orphanage and what they are doing. They are saving the kids from living on the streets where they would either have to beg, work, or end up in the sex trade. Bangla Hope is saving children and it is beautiful.
After that encounter we took a rickshaw ride to another part of town and it was so fun. I feel bad for the poor little men who pedal the bikes that power the rickshaw. They must have some buff legs because I’ve seen them tow a family of 5 on those things. We road back on a rickshaw van that an old man was pedaling and he was able to tow 5 of us plus all the fabric that we had bought. It was intense.
When we got back to the dental clinic we had more rice and dhal and that ended the second day in Dhaka. Random fact: I have had rice and dahl every meal that I have been in Dhaka. I am so ready to get back and eat Shati’s cooking!!
Today (Wednesday) we finally got to shop for things that we liked. It was a pleasant day where we went to nice shops and ate good food. We didn’t buy much because everything is expensive in Gulshan. There was a mini grocery store that we went to and we bought some oatmeal (all of us have been craving it) the first bag we found was almost $10! I wanted to buy Muesli but it was just as expensive. We finally bought two little cans of rolled oats for $5. It will be worth it!
I am so excited to get back to the orphanage and see the kids! We leave tomorrow at 6 A.M. Pray for us!
Our trip into Dhaka started on Sunday night. At around 10 pm we got on a bus that looked like it was nice at one point in time (and it probably is way nicer than some of the buses here) but it was covered in dirt and had lights that looked like they were from a 70’s themed kitchen. I sat by Lauren and we stayed awake for the first little while because we were afraid of our stuff getting stolen but as the night continued we became to exhausted to care about our stuff so we fell asleep. Every time I woke up I would be so afraid; there were so many times that our bus almost hit oncoming traffic. I could literally see the bus shifting every time the driver would swerve out of the way. Finally I decided it was best to just close my eyes so that I wouldn’t realize how many times I almost died. I never want to go on a bus like that again.
We were suppose to arrive at 5:30 in the morning so that we could sleep for two hours before we rushed off to beat the Dhaka traffic but since we hit so many traffic jams on the way into Dhaka we didn’t arrive to our destination until around 8 or 9. The traffic in Dhaka is horrible because this is one of the most densely populated countries in the world.
As soon as we ate some rice and dhal we were off to New Dhaka to begin our shopping for the kids. It was a very long day and by the end of it I was so emotional I just wanted to bawl. There are so many people that you can barely breathe and when you do you wished that you hadn’t. An open sewer runs along the road and the smell of the people alone makes you sick. I just cried when I was finally alone because of the things that I saw. Crippled people are everywhere begging and most of them are that way because their family members maimed them so they could earn money. The parents drug kids so that they don’t make a sound while the parent is begging… I wish I could explain everything but it is so hard when I have nothing to compare it to. It seems as if the worst places in America are equivalent to the nice places in Bangladesh. How can I look at a beggar who obviously needs my money more than I do and tell him no or give him two, ten, or even fifty taka (1 dollar = 78 taka)? Yet so many look at you with these haunting eyes that have felt so much pain in this life and you want to give them everything. I thought of Peter and John when they healed the beggar in Acts 3, I wanted to tell these people “Silver and gold have I none but what I have I give unto thee.” But I can’t heal (or maybe I don’t have enough faith). I felt so helpless and hopeless. It was too much for me to handle on so little sleep.
After a bucket shower and some more rice and dhal (I’m tired of eating it already) I fell asleep in the dental clinic terrified of what the next day would bring.
Despite my fears for Tuesday it turned out to be a rather pleasant day even though I saw worse stuff than I did the day before. First we stopped at stadium market because we needed a restroom.
I haven’t decided what is better: Dehydration or using the bathrooms in the city. They were gross.. enough said.
Next we went to this sketchy factory looking place with a million shops in it. Mrs. Waid is very interesting shopper. I am one of those odd girls that doesn’t enjoy shopping for long periods of time. I like to just be done with it. However, Mrs. Waid is one of those shoppers who takes her time and can go all day. I’m going to be honest and say that it was boring until Lauren and I started wandering off to find things to look at. Bargaining for things is so fun here (whether or not I am good at it is to be questioned). Lauren thought that everything should be worth 50 taka so we would go up to people in the shops and when they would ask for some really high price we would say “no.. 50 taka.” They just laughed at our bargaining skills.
In the afternoon we made our way to Old Dhaka. Since it had rained in the morning the streets were covered in mud. We had to make our way down this extremely packed muddy street for about half a mile to get to the fabric stores. There was a man behind me whistling but it had an Indian hint to its melody. It helped make the experience more positive than it could have been. The Bengali people just stare at us everywhere we go but it seemed to be worse when we were in Old Dhaka. We basically get tons of attention anywhere that we go. While Mrs. Waid was haggling for some fabric I notice this little girl. She was about 10 years old and she looked horribly dirty there was stuff in her hair and she had no shoes. She had been following us around for a while like most people do. I tried to talk with her a little bit but the language barrier kept us from really communicating. So I simply smiled at her every time we made eye contact and it made her so happy (I bet she had never gotten attention from a white person before). Simpson had bought me bananas (in Bengali they are called colas) and I offered her one, I think it made her day. There are so many kids here that need love and food but in the city they live in they have no chance. It really makes me think positively about the orphanage and what they are doing. They are saving the kids from living on the streets where they would either have to beg, work, or end up in the sex trade. Bangla Hope is saving children and it is beautiful.
After that encounter we took a rickshaw ride to another part of town and it was so fun. I feel bad for the poor little men who pedal the bikes that power the rickshaw. They must have some buff legs because I’ve seen them tow a family of 5 on those things. We road back on a rickshaw van that an old man was pedaling and he was able to tow 5 of us plus all the fabric that we had bought. It was intense.
When we got back to the dental clinic we had more rice and dhal and that ended the second day in Dhaka. Random fact: I have had rice and dahl every meal that I have been in Dhaka. I am so ready to get back and eat Shati’s cooking!!
Today (Wednesday) we finally got to shop for things that we liked. It was a pleasant day where we went to nice shops and ate good food. We didn’t buy much because everything is expensive in Gulshan. There was a mini grocery store that we went to and we bought some oatmeal (all of us have been craving it) the first bag we found was almost $10! I wanted to buy Muesli but it was just as expensive. We finally bought two little cans of rolled oats for $5. It will be worth it!
I am so excited to get back to the orphanage and see the kids! We leave tomorrow at 6 A.M. Pray for us!
I finally figured out the time difference! So when I pray for you now I know what time it is! I'm glad that your trip was safe, as in you didn't get hurt, but it still sounds scary! Praying for you MUCHO!
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