My first (and only?) visitors!

The morning after my return from Rangpur I was up at the crack of dawn (earlier actually) to collect Bec and Luke at Dhaka International Airport (where ‘visitors’ have to pay to get into possibly the worlds dodgiest arrivals lounge). We spotted each other immediately through the glass separating luggage collection from the exit gates; our pasty white skin positively fluorescent under the early morning hue of airport lighting.

Tired but excited Bec and Luke were keen to get out of the airport and into Bec’s first CNG (baby taxi, motorised rickshaw... as you wish). Hugs all around, confirmation of copious amounts of alcohol and cheese in bags, I threw an orna around Bec’s shoulders and marched them through the swarming crowd surrounding the airport at 4 in the morning (as it is at all hours of the day).

I haggled for the right price, shoved in the bags and we all squeezed into the CNG. A nice, cool morning, the streets were almost empty on the way to Dhanmondi. Within half an hour we arrived at David and Matthew’s house (where Bec and Luke were staying), they grabbed out the cheese and alcohol and jumped into bed (with the luxurious comfort of AC!) to catch up on some sleep before a long day ahead.

I raced the precious cargo home to my fridge and got a spot of work done before returning to collect them. First task: squeeze the three of us on a rickshaw, taking my usual route to work. This was exciting even for me initially, because I’d never sat on the top of the rickshaw seat, with someone between my legs before. Now I know why. Ouch! Anyway, an agonising 20 minutes later we jumped off at Poribagh and walked across to UNICEF. There Bec and Luke met my colleagues over shingara (turmeric chilli veges in pastry – heavenly goodness) and tea/coffee. From there the plan was to hit the National Museum , Dhaka Uni and Liberation War Museum...but like most things in Bangladesh, our plan was thwarted when the National Museum was shut. So we wandered around the University (checking out the Fine Arts College where preparation for Bengali New Year was well underway), then down to Aziz Market to buy some funky Bangla tee’s, and on to New Market where we had to buy red fabric and tips (bindi’s in Hindi culture) for the RED party the next night.

My Bangla is basic at best, but Bec and Luke are easily impressed, but we were gladly in and out of New Market within too long (even in the middle of the day during the week, the place is crammed full of people). By this time we were all dripping with sweat, so escaped to the oasis that is Cafe Mango for lunch (to try their infamous vege burgers and banana lassi’s). Then home for showers and chill out. A short thunder storm followed which considerably cooled the afternoon. At my place they met my Clancy and we watched the sunset on the rooftop before heading to the Drik Gallery to see an exhibit and on to the Bengali Fine Arts Gallery Cafe for a great and cheap Bangladeshi dinner (biryani, bhuna, paratha, bhat and shobji ) with friends Tuni and Clay (visiting from the USA to make a documentary on Bengali river music), Seb (a Canadian guy living here while making a documentary about hirja’s – transsexuals), Shabbab (a darling Bangladeshi boy I met on the plane to Dhaka), James and Clancy. Luke was totally in his element talking film with Tuni and Seb, the rest of us about the UN system, the problems of Bangladesh and the usual utter nonsense.

The following day, we were up early for a traditional breakfast with my beautiful Bangladeshi colleague Shilpi and her family at her house. A first for me as well and Bec and Luke. Breakfast consisted of dhal, bhat (rice), roti (bread), shobji (vegetables) and mishti (sweets). It was lovely and a perfect start to the day. From there we went to the Bangabandu Museum (the home of Bangabanda – political founding father of Bangladesh and father of current Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina – and where he was assassinated). From there we went to the Liberation War Museum (definitely worth the hunt). Full of Bangladeshi history (in all its bloody glory) we headed home (including, for a short distance, in a CNG driving the wrong way down the road!) to prepare for the big party. By the time everyone started arriving, Clancy and I had decorated the house, arranged food (shingara and phushka) and drinks and were still madly getting dressed.

A great night of utter trashiness followed, one of the highlights when Bec and Luke left and Lyrian and I scared them senseless about being mugged.

Casey: You’re LEAVING? Now? But it’s dark out!

Bec: Yeah, why?

Casey: Fuck. You’ll get mugged.

Lyrian: Yeah. Fuck. You need to watch out for gangs of muggers. They creep up on you, sometimes with knives and may stab you before stealing your stuff.

Casey: Yeah and be sure not to have your bag across your body, coz if they drive past and grab it you’ll be dragged down the street. Maybe break bones.

Bec and Luke look cautiously at one another.

Bec: Should we stay the night here then?

Casey: Nah, you’ll be fine. Here, give me all your stuff. Only take what you need, maybe just your keys.

Casey relives Bec of her keys, shoves them in her bra.

Casey: They won’t go looking for them in there. Ha ha!

Lyrian: Let us know if you get mugged...or get home safely.

Casey: Here, take my mobile. Text Shabab when you get home to let us know.

Casey shoves her phone in Bec’s bra.

Bec: Aaah, ok...

Next morning

Casey: Where the fuck’s my fucking phone?

Clearly I’d have been a great help if they hadn’t made it home safely. Anyway, when we were able to drag ourselves out of bed and stand up without being sick, we met Bec and Luke at Cafe Mango for breakfast. From there it took me a few hours to return to my usual cheery tour guide mode, but by early afternoon we were on our way to the north side (Banani) to hit the shops (Nogordola, Jatra, and Deshal), which they did with absolute abandon. Dinner at Indian restaurant Sajna, then home to bed.

The next day I’d booked a tour with Guide Tours out of Dhaka to Comilla (4 hours east of Dhaka) and Sonargaon (an hour out of Dhaka and the ancient capital city of Bangladesh). Unfortunately Bec was up during the night with Bangla Belly (it wouldn’t have been the full experience without it), so she reluctantly spent the day at my place while Luke and I bonded over lush green rice paddies, hindu temples, pottery barns, a WWII grave site, and mini Taj Mahal. A full 12 hours on the road, we returned to a much improved Bec and wandered down for a dinner of pizza.

The next day (their last in Bangladesh) we went on a walking tour of Old Dhaka, taking in Lalbag Fort, several mosques, ancient buildings and the old Dhaka hustle and bustle. Bec was still not feeling great and spending a few hours walking around the heat and humidity in Dhaka takes its toll, so we hopped in a CNG back to Dhanmondi. Refreshed, with bellies full of fresh veges and fresh lime sodas, we collected their luggage from David and Matt’s and moved them to my place for the last night. With the power out we hightailed it to Pizza Corner where we entertained the staff, playing UNO and gossiping like schoolchildren for hours. Luke expertly squeezed all their new belongings in their bags (in the space left by cheese and vodka) so we were ready to pile into Shabab’s car at 4am.

In an absolute record of 15 minutes we were at the airport, where more concerned about munching down Gastro Stop, we made a quick, tearless farewell.

It was a whirlwind week, and now it’s almost as though they were never here. There is an emptiness where they were. It was incredible beyond description to have two of my favourite people in the world here, to show them where I live and work, introduce them to the fabulous people I’m sharing the experience with and show them a country they might never have known.

Who’s next?