Old Dhaka

Filthy, muddy, stinky, messy are all fair words to describe Old Dhaka.

People spit everywhere. You have to be cautious when you brush shoulders with others on the street so much so to avoid their spit. A guy sat behind me on the bus from Dhaka to Sreemangal spitted every one or so minutes. In fact, they are so much into spitting that there is bin in the room as well as along the corridor in the guesthouse for this purpose. It is really considerate. Hahaha.

Do Not Spit. Use me

Banks are really abundant here. Regardless of the size, one can easily spot at least a few of them in a row of shops. The economy here must be very competitive. Perhaps I should consider working here.

Despite being deprived of sleep the previous night, I still walked almost 30 km wandering around Dhaka without my awareness. The unceasing honk and frantic traffic is something that you shouldn’t underestimate. It successfully deprived my sleep this morning despite me being tired and exhausted. I stayed in a pokey room at 4^th floor second to the one facing the street. The chaotic traffic was felt like just next to me. I was completely engulfed by the chaos of Old Dhaka. 

Sadarghat, Jul'19

Dhaka may not for the faint-hearted. I told myself I don’t have to move to its beat or prove anything. I really need to tune down my pace. I still have long way to go. The journey ahead is the highlight. Bangladesh is just a transit point.