www.couchsurfing.com

its one of those late nights again. seems like blogging is keeping me up late.

couch surfing is about traveling, meeting ppl and sharing cultures. been a member for a while, but its only recently that i got active. two weeks back i hosted captain Tomasz (the captain part added by one of his friend) from Poland. with a guitar in his hand, a tent in the packback and some euros in his pocket, he is out on a year long trip around part of the world. at 21, he has already traveled quite a few places and knows a lot of things about ppl and life. this time around, starting from Norway, he plans to travel to finland, russia and then all over asia (including bangladesh) till august next year, when he has to return home to attend his sisters wedding. couch surfing, hitchhiking and camping all the way. hats off to his spirit and desire for adventure.
after he left i found myself questioning me whether i would be able to that. even when it comes to things that mattered much to me, things that i believed in, things i say i would do anything for; let alone travels.

a week after that i had an austrian girl surfing with me. she is a doctor who will soon start her specialization. medicine studies here is not at all similar to that in bangladesh. after school, they study six years to become a doctor, which is nothing but the title. then just to be a GP they need another 4 years of further studies (internship is in parts throughout the study years). otocho amader deshe mutamuti medicaler corridor diye bar koyek hata chola korle, ar khade apron o golai stethoscope julalei daktar hoya jai. manushe jibon niye chinimini khelte o amader pathure hridoye bajena!!
but what surprised me most is their trust. how much a girl traveling all alone have trust to spend a night at a completely stranger's place? some may say these europeans dont really care about physical relations, but i dont buy that. i think no matter what, most women are concerned about it to certain extent.

how much would i trust a bangladeshi stranger in bangladehsh? or a muslim stranger??

random rumbling at 0113

its 1.13 AM. up so late (or is it so early) after a very long time. usually i switch to staying up at night and sleeping through part of the day in summer, when the night is too short to sleep through. earlier today went for karate classes for the first time since leaving melaka. thus was planning on sleeping early, but here i am listening to 70's music, and blogging, and thinking what am i doing? at 0119 hrs.

last month i was in cannes. my first attendance to a major conference. met a few old friends from aalborg, and realized conferences are more than just just conference. there is also a socializing, making contacts and traveling aspect to it.

traveling with my colleagues, one other thing i realized is how alcohol became the number 1 industry in the world. we usually had dinner together, followed by the gang going for a drink at a cafe/pub. a few casual drinks and each of them were counting like 30-50€, excluding the wine at dinner. i even saw a wine that costs over 500€ a bottle (75 cl).

but that was last month. now i am back in trondheim, my adopted hometown for the next three/four years, spending dreadful days with all sorts of theories (matrix theory, information theory, communication theory) for breakfast, lunch and dinner. [sometimes i really ask myself - how on earth did i end up being a researcher!!!]

okay, i guess thats enough rumbling to make a post. (thus i can continue claiming to be a blogger;)

slap the weakling as you wish

some emergency repair work is going on at meghna gomti bridge on dhaka chittagong highway, and so this bridge is now a one way street. the work which started on may 15 is planned to last 44 days. and that means we, the frequent travelers between dhaka and chittagong, have to face untold sufferings and long hours in queue to get across. newspaper reports say the queue itself was as long as 18 hours couple of days back.

bus owners took this opportunity slap us, the helpless passengers, with yet another blow - an unauthorized 10% fare hike. a timely slap when we are most vulnerable.

so now a bus trip between dhaka and chittagong is not only going to take longer, but also cost more. what a way to treat one's customers!!!

p.s. i heard even flight operators took benefit of this long jam, and hiked up their fares.

now you know how all those mercedes and bmw's plying the posh streets of bangladesh are financed.

destination Sundarban

national holidays this year has so far been very conveniently placed - either adjacent to the weekend or a day away from it. including the holiday of 26th march (our national and independence day), which converts into a 4 day break by taking a day off in between. the perfect time to escape the hustle and bustle of dhaka, thought I. 'lets head for the sundarbans', suggests a friend; the idea gets immediate acceptance and 'so let it be', we echo in joining voice with him.

what was initially planned as a trip for a few turns out to be 'le tour de sundarbans' with a whole contingent of colleagues and families and friends - our five year old warrior Maisha and a forty one strong team of up to third degree friends.


as usual i am just in time (arrived at 10.29) to catch our 10.30 bus to khulna, from where we will board the launch that we have booked. we reach khulna three hours behind schedule at 8.30 in the morning. hopping off the bus and hopping on to our the launch, is all what we manage to see of khulna in this leg.

faruk vai, MD of royal hotel, and the organizer of this tour, warmly welcome us on board his vessel. we quickly settle in and then move out to invade the deck and enjoy mother nature's magnificent extravaganza on the banks left and right. ten hours of upstream ride bring us to our docking place close to the bay of bengal, the katka point. thanks to our delay earlier, its nightfall by the time we reach. i am somewhat half hearted to find we have wait so many more hours before we can set foot on the sundarbans and immerse ourselves in her arms.


after filling ourselves with dinner the contingent is scattered around on deck in groups - some chitchatting, others playing cards or counting stars, while the couples among us romanticizing. its 11 when to our great surprise, faruk vai announces he has arranged a surprise boat excursion for us. its agenda: 1) experience the moon rise and 2) ride into a channel and sit in complete silence to listen to jungle's voice in the middle night. with almost fifty people cramped in a 20ft life boat, keeping silence is no easy task. nonetheless we did witness the moon rise (at quarter to twelve) and heard some roars and cries (or at least imagined so) from deep within the thick mangrove forest.


early next morning while waiting for the sun to rise, i get my first clear view of the majestic forest on both banks of the channel. it is only then that i fully grasp the impact of cyclone SIDR on these poor trees. four months has since passed, but the trees were still barren and twisted and broken. instead of standing tall proudly with her arms stretched to the full and green branched housing wild colored birds, every single tree i could see was lying defeated with head her bowed to the ground in shame. just imagine what would have happened to the coastal areas had this 2400 sq mile forest not exist?


suddenly the sense of our incapability and powerless-ness overcomes me. how little we indeed are? how powerless? what if it was i facing this SIDR in place of these trees? would even a single cell in me exist? yet we dare to deny Him, Almighty. dare to disobey Him. dare to boast of our prowess. Which then of the bounties of your Lord will you deny? (Quran: Ar Rahman, 55:13)
---------------------
-> part 2 of 2

visit Bangladesh year 2008 (part 3 of 3)

continuing from part 2

---------------------
some distant church bell lazily announces that it is an hour to midnight. for dinajpur, that deep dead into the night. at around half past eight, i was out for pre-dinner walk around town cum window shopping. but surprisingly, not only were the shops closed, even the roads were almost deserted apart from a astray dogs playing around and health conscious elderly people walking a mile after dinner.

its been a long day for us. earlier in the morning, after two bus changes (including an hour-long ride standing) and two hours of bore-some waiting, we finally reach dinajpur at an hour before dawn. the morning azan (call for prayer) is still due, yet shops and restaurants are lighting on their bulbs and opening up for another day of business. later in the evening, i discover dinajpurians are not only early to rise, but early to bed too.



having failed to find ourselves a hotel room, we decide to set out exploring the place right away. driving out in our rented 1962 model series 60 nissan patrol, I can sense adventure pulsating up in myself. we are in a old four wheeler passing through an old little town, and our destination is the three hundred years old kantanagar temple. it felt like we had traveled back a few decades in time.

completed in 1752, this hindu temple - a magnificent exhibit of the exuberant terracota art - took thirty years to built. the temple was greatly damaged in a devastating earthquake in 1897, but substantially restored in early 20th century by the then maharaja. sadly, much of the beautiful artwork adorning its walls is slowly getting damaged due to lack of the proper attention and delicate care that this kind of antiquities require. (more about the temple)

next point of interest is the huge man-created tank ramsagar dated back to around the same time as kantanagar temple. i say created because this 1000 m-by-300 m lake was actually dug by people, 1.5 Mil of them. legends say the then ruler ordered digging of this huge water tank to supply drinking water for the drought-hit locality. initially no water rose in the tank. a priest prescribed sacrificing the young prince ram and throwing him into the tank to remedy the situation. hence the tank was called ram-sagar (sagar means sea in bengali). the water now is no longer drink-able, but ofcourse bath-able, so without a second thought we opt to enjoy the tank from within.

kanta nagar and ram-sagar sips away the little energy we had left after our long and tiring journey last night, and by the time we step into our hotel rooms, the welcoming bed is all what we can see.

we will return to dhaka tomorrow after visiting shwapnapuri, a theme park cum shooting spot (shwapnapuri literally means dreamland, which is rightly reflected in the theme park's eye-catching design). the direct train to dhaka was sold out, so we will instead be taking the night bus from rangpur, the neighboring town which is two hours journey from here.

visit Bangladesh year 2008 (part 2)

continuing from part 1

my scenic Bangladesh

yes, the bus ride to kushtia is grueling and tiring, but no way near boring. in a country of poets and music-lovers, you can well expect to find a good number of them in a group of sixty. throughout the ride, we are showered with live in-house entertainment of songs, poem recitations (including self composed), and jokes among many others. we have a historian on board, so we are even lucky enough to have lectures briefing us on the historical heritage of every area we are passing through. this includes the famous 'chalan bil', the largest wetland of the country, which cover 368 sqkm continuous sheet of water in the rainy season. other notable points of interest on the way are the jamuna bridge and the picturesque natore countryside, home to the famous banalata sen of poet Jibonanda Das.

laloner majar and robindronather kutibari

lalon's majar (tomb) is on the way to our lunch-place, so we decide to drop in. baul is a type of traditional folk music with a spiritual touch, and lalon to baul is as elvis presley to pop. the place is not just a simple tomb as the name suggest, rather i find there a huge complex housing a music (baul) school, an impressive auditorium, and home to well decorated graves of many of his companions and followers, including his wife. there are also many souvenir shops outside selling all sorts of stuffs (including pipes for smoking pot - which often goes hand in hand with baul music). a local proverb says 'even sweet words sound bitter when the stomach is empty'. so i am not too sad spending merely 15 minutes at a place like this, where otherwise i would probably laze a whole evening away.

our last point of interest in kushtia is tagore's kutibari (resthouse) in the banks of river padma. the resthouse itself is now a mini bungalow-turned-into a very poorly maintained museum. yet it surely is the biggest attraction of kushtia, as i see hundreds of tourist and picnic-goers hanging around. people are gathered here and there in groups and i find last breath of smoke from make-shift stoves and maids lazily cleaning dishes. there are even a few small cottages up for rent around the place. with a tight schedule to meet, we are brisked away back into the bus before we get to absorb the air and dissolve ourselves into the atmosphere. but then something is always better than nothing.

this is the end of the study tour, but two other friends, myself and a stranger decide to spend the next two days exploring dinajpur in northern part of bangladesh. we bid farewell to the rest and separate ways at nine pm, which is dead night for this remote part of highway from where we are to catch the next bus.

[to be continued]

visit bangladesh year 2008

though i hardly ever manage to stick to the resolutions i make beginning of each year, i am very ritualistic about making them. this time around, the new year just passed by silently and it was only recently that resolution-making popped up in my mind. while pondering what can be an achievable resolution, i thought why not let 2008 be my 'visit Bangladesh year'. why not spend my precious few remaining months of freedom (ahem!!) traveling across BD as much as i can?

jei kotha shei kaj (let it be so). i took the next available opportunity, the long weekend of ekushey february (21st feb, which is international mother language day), to seek out exploring my motherland.

destination Kushtia

some people i know planned a study tour on the 21st feb, and i decide to join in along with a few friends. kushtia, once a centre of art and culture in undivided Bangal, is a natural choice for this group of mostly intellectuals (or atleast wannabees). 'we are starting at seven sharp', i was told; but by the time we manage to get ourselves moving, it's just about eight. not bad i reckon, considering the cold lazy morning it is, and the almost sixty of us taking part.

the best mishti doi (sweetened youghurt) i ever had

we arrive in the town of kushtia more than just hungry and tired, after a gruelling five hour trip in a forty four sitter bus. a sumptuous eight dish lunch arranged by some local friends is eagerly waiting for us (i wonder who is more eager, the lunch or us) , but that is a further 8 kms away. our voluntary guide, a professor from kushtia, is wise enough make a famous local restaurant the first stop in our trip, where we are treated to the local delicacy of chira doi (sweetend youghurt with puffed rice). i could hav at least had five more servings of that, if only time was on my side. i guess that explains the quality.

[to be cont'd...]