Why would someone want to go to Bangladesh?
Perhaps because Bangladesh offers interesting boat trips through the countryside on innumerable rivers; the longest beach in the world (sharkfree), the largest littoral mangrove forest in the world, archeological sites over 2000 years old, over 650 species of birds, and in the south-eastern Chittagong area, colorfully dressed tribal people. And it's air is cleaner than that of India's or Nepal's.
April 28, 2000 - Kathmandu to Dhaka
From the airplane I can see lots of thunder clouds, but the Himalayas show through in their glory in a few places. Then the plane turns south, and the clouds become haze over the flatlands. When we approach Dhaka, I see green - lots of green. It is spring and the monsoons are just starting. Below there are many ponds mirroring the sky.
I am met at the airport by a young man named Zahidul Haque (Hock). Zahid for short. Zahid is an employee of BCCP (Bangladesh Center for Communications Programs) - and he is to be my guide for my length of my stay. We talk on the way to my hotel. I see white clouds in the sky instead of just a haze. The road from the airport is lined with planted trees and the streets appear to be clean. Zahid says that today is a holiday and the traffic is light. Still, compare this to Bangkok, where, even in the morning, the smog is thick. The human-powered rickshaws here are colorfully decorated, and they outnumber the baby taxis - those small rickshaws powered by fume-belching two-stroke motorcycles. There are many people walking along the edges of the wide road-side, even where there are no shops. Also notable are the shanties where people live - only a few yards from the road.
This is the new Dhaka - apartment buildings are going up in many areas, and new improvements have been made. Tomorrow we sight-see and visit old Dhaka - not so pretty, Zahid says.
Zahid tells me that jobs are hard to come by in Bangladesh. Young men finish school and hope to find a job, but many find nothing and turn to drugs. Of the Bangladeshi young people of ages 18-28, maybe 70% of them become somehow involved in drugs.
I am put up in the nicest hotel of all my South Asia trip. But it is also three times more expensive. But I had no ideas on what the lesser expensive options were, or if there were any. It is located in a residential area, and I am resigned to staying put in the hotel unless escorted. Not like Thailand. (As I write this in Thailand, I sit in my Bangkok hotel thinking I might go alone down to an Internet shop about two blocks away. It is 9 pm at night and I feel relatively secure in the streets.)
Reading my Lonely Planet Bangladesh travel guide, I find that the People's Republic of Bangladesh was born in December 1971, having already suffered chaos, war, a ruined economy, a totally disrupted communications system, and Pakistan's pogram against intellectuals, which almost destroyed the educated class. Bangladesh is a struggling democracy, having endured several coups, martial law, and suspension of voting.
Bangladesh suffers seasonal flooding, the world's worst cyclones, and is in one of the world's major earthquake zones, experiencing seven earthquakes over 7.0 on the Richter scale this century. Cyclones are big because of the large tide, a funnelling coast configuration which increases the size of the waves, low flat terrain, and frequent severe tropical storms. A major cyclone occurs an average of every three years. In 1970, a cyclone killed 300,000 - 500,000 people. The 1991 cyclone killed fewer people because of the construction of storm shelters, but affected over twice as many people and destroyed over four times as many houses.
Now that I am here in Bangladesh, I learn that temperatures reach 40 C degrees and that lethal hail storms are quite common, with some hailstones reaching .5 kg. Yes, Mom, I'll be careful. I learn that the hail comes from winds whirling up from the Bay of Bengal, which U-turn at the Himalaya and carry their icy cargo back to Bangladesh.
Bangladesh will be drastically affected by any rise in sea level, which is a likely effect of global warming. Predictions are that the sea will rise by 30cm by 2030, and 30cm to 110cm by 2100, resulting in a loss of up to 18% of the country's land area. Flooding will increase and ground water will become saline. Tidal waves and cyclones will become more severe.
Average per capita income is $225. On the U.N. development scale, Bangladesh ranks 146th of 173. U.S. aid has amounted to $2 billion per year for a decade, but is now declining. Much of foreign aid has gone into the family planning sector. While foreign aid has been decreasing, international access has increased to the garment and other markets, which may offset the loss in aid. The country now produces most of the food that it consumes, but agricultural production has been stagnant since 1991.
Bangladesh is the most densely populated country in the world, excepting city states like Hong Kong or Singapore and a few crowded areas as in Java. It has 3 times more population per square mile than India and 7 times more than China. Due to a successful family planning program, Bangladesh's fertility rates have declined from 6.3 births per woman in 1975 to 3.4 by 1993. The use of contraceptives was up to 45% in 1995, significantly higher than India. However, due to population momentum - the number of young people entering child-bearing years, the population of Bangladesh is due to double in 35 to 40 years.
The huge percentage of children that are malnourished is not declining, in fact may be increasing. Mothers suffer from iodine deficiency, resulting in children born with mental or physical handicaps. Hard physical work during pregnancy, infections, close birth spacing, and very young motherhood are other contributing factors to low birth rates. Also, because of the frequency of maternal deaths, mothers purposely restrict their diet during pregnancy so as to have smaller babies. This, however, does not affect the head size, which is the major determining factor in birth difficulties. Vitamin A deficiency caused by low intake of vegatables and diarrhoea causes night blindess and deaths.
65% of the population is illiterate. For women, the figure is 78%. The Bangladesh Rural Advancement Committee (BRAC) is a relief organization offering rural credit, skill development, and health care. It also offers education to children of illiterate destitute people. 70% of the BRAC students are girls. 80% of the teachers are women. Dropouts are few. However, the Muslim mullahs don't like the programs - possibly because they suspect the program of being Christian, or, more likely because the BRAC is educating women.
Women are noticably absent on the streets and in the market place. Bangladesh women suffer numerous pregnancies, hard work, and poor diet. However, the Grameen Bank program offers credit to destitute women - enough to purchase a cow, a sewing machine, or a silkworm shed. Due to peer pressure (women are lent money in teams), the default rate is only 2%. The benefits to women borrowers are immeasurable: by working collectively and with the growth of self-esteem, their lowly status can improve.
In the evening of my arrival, I meet BCCP Assistant Director Motaherul Haque at my hotel. BCCP likes my idea of using the green umbrella theme in parades to promote U.S. foreign aid for family planning (see www.population-awareness.net/GreenUmbrellas.html). We discuss briefly our plans for the umbrellas, and Motaherul reviews the wording of the proposed parade brochure with me. He likes the concept that family planning prevents abortions - part of the proposed text in the brochure.
April 29, 2000
The main business of the day is to order umbrellas. A SUV picks me up and BCCP Assistant Director Motaherul Haque is aboard, along with Zahid and a representative of the umbrella factory.
We drive through new Dhaka and wide clean streets, passing trees and parks along the way. Then into the narrow streets of old Dhaka. There are very few women here - about 95% men. The streets are covered with a layer of mud, although they may be paved or cobbled below. I see no other private vehicles, only a few large trucks, and many rickshaws and hand-pulled carts (equipped to be pulled by water buffalo). There are no cows or water buffalo on the streets as in Delhi or Kathmandu.
We stop in front of a 4-5 story building, get out, and go up several flights. Then, there in a small dark room, men are seen sitting or squatting on the floor, cutting pieces of black nylon to make umbrellas. This is not like my concept of a factory which is a huge warehouse with people working at long tables. At one end of the room, men are sitting at tables, operating 4 ancient sewing machines, piecing together the umbrella fabric. We move from one room to another, stepping over men and pieces of material. One room is where the logo gets stamped on the umbrella. Another is where the handle and other pieces are added. Another room is where the stiching of the fabric to the struts is done, plus inspection. I take pictures.
We move to a small office to negotiate. Mr. Motarherul Haque handles the bargaining in Bangla. We settle on a price, which includes a 25% quality inspection fee from BCCP. I learn that there are eight panels, and I have prepared only six slogans. So I decide to add the original Bangla on one panel, and "Clean Air, Clean Water" on the other. The other slogans are: "Small Families", "Healthy Children", "Sustainable Planet", "Women's Self-Esteem", and "Wildlife Survival". We later decide to have two of the panels contain the original slogan in both the English and the Bangla together: Take Health Services" on one, and "Stay Well" on the other.
We are served fresh fruits and lassi. Mindful of traveller's diarrhoea, I take only a banana, which is safe if I carefully peel it myself. But it is hard to refuse the lassi - a milk curd product. Everyone seems to be especially proud of their lassi recipe. This one seems to be mostly orange juice. It is quite delicious, and I suffer no ill effects later.
I see no women in the umbrella factory. I am put on a rickshaw to travel to where the SUV is parked, while the men travel by foot. Later we drop off everyone except myself and Zahid, and we go sightseeing.
We visit the parliament building, a grey building with geometrically-shaped openings - designed by a famous American architect - but not so famous that I knew who he was. It is in a beautiful park-like setting on it's own little island in the river. We go the Independance Memorial - a pyramid tapering into a spire at top. This, too, is set in a beautiful park setting.
Then we drive into the country. It is populated much like the road to Agra in India, only there is water everywhere. People are harvesting rice that was knocked over in the last storm - not yet the golden color that signals maturity, but harvested just the same. There are almost no women involved in the harvest, as you will see in Laos, Thailand, and India. Zahid tells me that this is true only in the area around Dhaka.
Our car breaks down while driving along the highway in the country. After 15 minutes, it is decided that it cannot be fixed immediately. In the meantime, a family of mom, dad, and about 4-5 children, come up on the roadway from their shanty below and stare in the car windows. At first mom has her hand out, but after a short while she just looks at me with big pleading eyes. Her baby is old enough to sit up, but looks so tiny. I'm guessing that the baby was a little girl, because she is wearing eyebrow pencil. I have seen other baby girls with their eyes made up - I can only guess that it is to make baby girl more attractive so that dad and the boys in the family will be nice to her.
We take a rickshaw into town, where Zahid tries several times to call for car repairs. We eat at an established well-know Bangladesh restaurant, in a corregated tin-covered building with a tree-branch inner frame. The food is curried chicken and mutton with rice, and lassi. The food is good, but spicy for my gringo tastes. Zahid can't detect any spiciness in it. The lassi is thick and much like yogurt. I drink 2/3 of it, but it is very rich, so I didn't drink it all. Zahid assures me that everything is hygenically prepared.
Next we take the rickshaw back to Zahid's appartment, where he finds some more car repair numbers, and we find a taxi. Then we go to the national museum, where we see many natural objects and man-made tools and artifacts.
I am dropped at my hotel, and take my dinner in the hotel dining room. I am the only female. Although yesterday I did spy a young lady - a maid perhaps? The other guests appear to be Indonesian or Japanese.
April 30, 2000
At the second morning's breakfast, I see my first female guest. We talk - she is an American - a reproductive health nurse travelling about Bangladesh studying culture and acting as a consultant to Pathfinder and other NGOs exploring ways to counsel youth on reproductive health. What a coincidence to find someone with a similar mission!
My business and sight-seeing is done. Zahid picks me up and we go to the bank so I can pay my hotel bill. I have money left over - what to do with $70 in Takha currency?
Zahid tells me he is not happy in Bangladesh. He wants a secure future. He is a bright young man and probably would be successful in landing a job in a western country. But that presents a problem for Bangladesh. How do poor countries prevent a brain drain, losing their most intelligent young people, and a good chunk of the country's future along with them, to more developed countries?
BCCP gave me a gift of 10 of the original green umbrellas - in Bangla. I carry them onto the plane and then fly back to Kathmandu, this time with a window seat. The land between Dhaka and Kathmandu has many, many rivers, is almost all cultivated, and seems to be quite populated. Then we reach the hills of Nepal, and we are back to terraced land.