I'd
read that seeing the area is 'virtually impossible' in the Lonely
Planet. Really. It seems folks have become a bit skittish on
account of all the hubbub in the press the last few years. I did meet
a French couple that met with moderate success in getting a peak.
After being turned away at several yards they were finally allowed
entry. However, after a few pictures they were told to put away the
camera and their exposure was limited. I ran into an Australian
fellow at my hotel in Chittagong who also gained entry and managed to
snap a few photos with a small camera. This made me a little bit more
optimistic but I wanted more than just a few quick shots. I figured I
might have to go 007.
At my
hotel I met a young male employee that offered to get me up close and
personal with the shipyards the following morning. His English was
limited and I was a bit skeptical about his ability to get me in but
I agreed. What did I have to lose, right? He told me he had a friend
working there now and that pictures would be no problem. Intriguing
isn't it?
I had
the afternoon to kill so my new friend suggested I take a stroll near
the river in the Saderhat area of Chittagong. He hailed an
autorickshaw for me and gave the driver appropriate instructions. I
had no idea where I was headed and merely complied when my driver
grunted and pointed down an alley which apparently signified my
destination.
When I
disembarked I think I heard the record scratch. I am betting not too
many foreigners venture into the seedy harbor area of the city. It
was bustling with activity. Before I knew it I was snapping photos of
anyone and everyone and being offered tea and who knows what else. I
made my way down a dark corridor filled with the smell of salty
sewage and other aromas beyond my ability to identify. It was an
olfactory assault of a most brutal nature. There was a gully running
the middle of the alley that was filled with garbage and sludge that
defies description. It was intermittently being cleared by a young
boy with a rope and some sludge covered sandbag device made
specifically for the purpose.
When I
reached the water front I was speechless. There were men and boys in
a frantic procession from small ships to what appeared to be scales
of some sort with baskets of white grainy material atop their heads.
I soon discovered that this was salt and that this small patch of
riverfront was where salt is unloaded, weighed, and the initial
processing is completed. Nobody was screwing around. It was like
watching leaf cutter ants moving with military speed, discipline, and
precision. I had to watch my step and attempt to avoid being
trampled. Not an easy task when one finds oneself in the throes of
the sort of stupefaction I was experiencing. It was stimulus
overload.
There
is one surefire way to gum up the works a bit. Take out a camera and
start firing away. Everyone wants in, much to the dismay of those on
a tight schedule. Folks hauling salt. Folks weighing salt. Folks
bathing in some of the filthiest water you could possibly imagine.
Most of my pictures were taken while standing on a pile of trash. And
in the midst of all this ugliness are these men behaving as if they
are the happiest folks on the planet. Remarkable. And don't let the conspicuous lack of smiling in some photos fool you. These folks were giddy. Smiling for pictures appears to be a 'Western' thing. Ever been to Azerbaijan?
One
thousand pictures later I made my way back to the main road. By this
time I had a 17-year-old Bangladeshi student serving as my
facilitator. We stopped for a spot of tea (his dime) and then he
began showing me other areas of the waterfront. More stimulus
overload along with everyone and their mother begging for a photo
they will see but once on my LCD. I saw the crew of a ship observing
prayer time, discovered the price of a duck (about $4), met the owner
of a slushy operation (he implored me to photograph his truck), came
face to face with child labor, and attempted to avoid vomiting (that
olfactory assault I mentioned above). Amazing. Disgusting.
Unforgettable.
When
it started to get dark I headed back to my hotel where I met up with
my Australian friend (Andy) I'd first encountered in Bandarban at the
Hillside Resort. He had a place in mind for dinner so I tagged along.
Walking the narrow market streets of Chittagong was a lot like
Sadarat w/o the water although much narrower. What is sold?
Everything. On this night I appeared to be in the vegetable, spice,
chicken, fish, lufa pad section. Crowded and chaotic to the point of
vertigo. I hardly knew where to focus and, as you could guess,
curiosity levels were high. If I'd taken a picture of everyone that
asked I'd still be there and would have no doubt filled up countless
memory cards. If folks were any friendlier I think I'd been adopted.
Again, remarkable.
Eating
in the restaurant we settled on (not the one we searched for in vain)
was on par with eating on stage at the Apollo Theater. Not so many
tourists make their way there. The wait staff nearly fell over
themselves serving us, although I think they were hoping for an uber
tip.
There
must have been something in the air because in the course of an
evening I saw four altercations between Bangladeshi males, something
I had yet to encounter even once. Maybe it was the full moon. One of
these disagreements involved two rickshaw drivers engaging in a game
of slappy face in the middle of a dimly lit intersection. Luckily,
reason prevailed. They finally pulled their rickshaws to the curb so
they could rumble safely. One of the drivers had a passenger in the
back. I am assuming that person was not in a hurry. The fight
resembled two people trying to hug each other to death while yelling.
It lasted about four seconds before an older gentleman broke it up.
Riveting.
Below
is a picture of a list of rules printed in my hotel room.
-Ladies
visitors will not be allowed in gents rooms, as well as gents
visitors in the family room. (Promiscuous sex is really hard
to come by in this country so if you are a slut (male or female) you
may want to venture elsewhere)
-If
your air conditioner fails due to loadsheding or voltage flactuation,
please inform reception immediately. (If it fails for any
other reason you are screwed)
-Please
inform reception one hour before checkout. (You should also
inform reception one hour before you inform reception you will be
checking out in one hour just to be safe.)
-For
your security don’t allow any less-known or unknown person in your
room. (Less-known? These would be people you’ve seen
before but never actually spoken to or people you’ve spoken to but
with whom you’ve never had a meaningful conversation. If you are
not privy to this person’s last name, marital status, and religious
disposition then him/her would be considered a ‘less-known’
person. If you are privy to the information mentioned above then that
person would qualify as ‘fairly well known’ person. By all means
let them in, unless you are a ‘gents’ and the fairly well known
person is a female or you, as a lone ‘gents’, are trying to enter
the fairly well known person’s family room or you are accompanied
by someone but are considered by them (family room occupants) to be a
less-known person.)
-Don’t
take any food or drink offered by less-known or unknown
person. (Other types of gifts are allowed like clothing,
furniture, or pharmaceutical products (technically not food)).
-It
is always safe to avoid an unknown person. (It
is advisable to never meet new people and make new friends. Too
dangerous. If you traveling alone we advise you to sit in your room
and stare at this poster)
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