I am behind a day in my blogging so will have to try to piece together again where and what from yesterday. This is Doiub, the deaf Imam who drives everywhere with me and argues with the driver about where to turn and which way to go. We left by 8:00 to get down to Old Dhaka, and the traffic was unusually clear; I took this rickshaw driver's picture from inside the backseat of the car, and he gave me a rather pleasing grin!
We first went to the Sadarghat Boat Terminal on the Buriganga River in Old Dhaka
, passing, as we walked along, some late risers like this gentleman, and
some stalls that looked ready for anything plastic. Once we paid our dues, we walked out onto the long docks over the grubby, trash infested river, which I shall leave for the imagination, and looked at the big boats that people use as commuter boats and some of the smaller boats in the harbor. The docks were crowded with people, selling and begging as usual, but more bustling to catch a boat than anything; there was purpose here on the docks. A woman in a sari scootche
d along on her bottom for lack of two legs, but she maintained a pretty decent speed.
, passing, as we walked along, some late risers like this gentleman, and
some stalls that looked ready for anything plastic. Once we paid our dues, we walked out onto the long docks over the grubby, trash infested river, which I shall leave for the imagination, and looked at the big boats that people use as commuter boats and some of the smaller boats in the harbor. The docks were crowded with people, selling and begging as usual, but more bustling to catch a boat than anything; there was purpose here on the docks. A woman in a sari scootche
d along on her bottom for lack of two legs, but she maintained a pretty decent speed.
From the docks we went to walk around Old Dhaka where everything imaginable was for sale, mostly foods, books and plastics, the staples of a good life. We even stopped to buy some fabric and drank some overly sweet tea, laden with sticky carnation milk AND sugar, just in case. I was rather fond of it. People approached me, asking where I was from or just stared unflinchingly at the stranger. I smiled my goofy American smile and shook hands whenever I could, taking photos that the people always wanted to see and then said, "thank you," as though I'd given them some kind of gift or honor by taking home their photographs! No worries here about souls being stolen by the camera, thank goodness! We had the knife sharpener, the fruit hawker, the books salesmen, and the juice makers, all vying for space on my camera, but I tried t
o be fair and catch everyman at his best; my favorite was the man biking a huge haul behind him who said loud and clear after I captured him on film, "thank you!" Just recognizing his efforts seemed to make him grateful; it's the least I could do!
o be fair and catch everyman at his best; my favorite was the man biking a huge haul behind him who said loud and clear after I captured him on film, "thank you!" Just recognizing his efforts seemed to make him grateful; it's the least I could do!
I'll write more tomorrow, but it's late and I'm ready for bed.
1 comment:
waaa... nice photos for day 1
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