Bangladesh in large print. When you go to Bangladesh, you know one thing. You are truly a world traveler. And an adventuresome sort as well. We traveled throughout the island areas and also Chittigong. I have been to over 100 countries on this globe, and without a doubt, Bangladesh is the poorest. When you go about, whether to Dhaka or Chittigong or anywhere in between, the enormity of the poverty hits you over the head constantly.
The only bit of prosperity is on the military bases, where children dress in uniforms, and people drive instead of walking. Adults look well nourished and content. But away from the bases, and abject poverty reigns. Even the emaciated cows look at you when you wander by, and appear to say to you, “don’t straggle, or I’ll get you.” Finding a place to eat is challenging. Even a restaurant near the airport, looked like something out of a science fiction film. There was one small light bulb hanging from the ceiling, perhaps simulating a police interrogation scene. There was one small table in the middle of the room, covered with layers of dust. A haze hung in the restaurant, which had a ceiling height of about six feet. We passed up the opportunity to eat there. In the villages, most people have miniature abodes, the size of one of our bedrooms. Often the floors are dirt, and many, many people live there. I only saw one man with gray hair. Sadly, their life expectancy is just too short.
But, people are very generous and hospitable. We were always greeted warmly, and often were invited to share a meal in one of their small homes. I had a good time, and thoroughly enjoyed the people and their country. When returning home, I had a new perspective on just how blessed I am.
