A statistical and image-based reflection on a week in west Bangladesh
After nine straight weeks of teaching, the question was how to fill nine days of vacation. On this occasion I decided to remain in Bangladesh and take the opportunity to explore this country a little further, and having never ventured due west before, that is where I went. The division of Khulna to be precise, which borders India and comprises a number of districts, including Jessore and Khulna.
Travelling individually has always felt a little daunting to me, so the prospect of spending the duration of the break navigating an unfamiliar area of Bangladesh alone provoked mixed emotions. Nevertheless, I survived, and I’m here to report in.
I’ll spare the mundane play by play account of what happened and instead present an array of telling statistics. Prior to leaving Chittagong I decided I’d take a pad and pen with me on the trip and keep a tally of the inevitable and the unexpected in equal measure.
So, here it is, the story of my week in Jessore and Khulna in numbers, beginning with the most important and reflective of all…
Cups of tea consumed – 46
Cups of tea I paid for – 20
Cups of tea bought for me by ever hospitable locals – 26
Invites to homes – 10
Invites accepted – 4
Photos taken – 659 (see a select set here – Jessore & Khulna)
Rice paddies near the India border, Benapol.
Modes of transport used during the trip – 6
Times my unmarried status evoked confused frowns – 37
Times it was suggested I marry in Bangladesh – 21
Business cards received – 4
Business cards distributed – 27
Occasions in which I was asked if I came from Japan – 3
Jibes received regarding England’s woeful Cricket World Cup campaign – 24
Times I was asked to reveal my salary – 12
15th century mosques visited – 6
Singar Mosque, Bagerhat
Hindu temples visited – 7
Here is a list of events which occurred just once, but I deemed worthy enough to scribble down in my notepad…
- Requested to convert to Islam for marriage purposes
- Military border parades witnessed
Daily flag lowering ceremony, Benapole border
- Squeezed into a body-hugging Bangladesh cricket shirt and told, “It fits perfectly boss!”
- Asked if Iranian
- Told to cancel my hotel booking and sleep in the home of a man I had met just 30 minutes previously
- After briefly chatting with a man I met earlier in the day, he then text to inform me he was knocking on my hotel room door and requested I open said door…
- ‘Adventure Parks’ visited that made me want to scream “WHY??!!” at the person who recommended it and assured me it was “very beautiful…”
Yes….this is a plastic T-Rex….
- Told I was lying about my age as I couldn’t possibly be as young as I was claiming
- Told a man he was the least friendliest person I had ever met in Bangladesh after he spent a good five minutes ridiculing my intelligence for not carrying my passport and stating that as the British were “Kings” I am practically a disgrace to the great nation of Britain
And finally, a list of occurrences that initially I had firm intentions of meticulously tracking. Yet, as the hours and days passed, I soon realized it would be impossible to keep an accurate record due to the sheer volume. So, in the end they became uncountable, but no less significant…
- Asked the question, “Your country?”
- Confused questions with suspicious facial expressions regarding my reason for being in Jessore/Khulna/Bangladesh
- Enthusiastically praised for my comprehensive Bangla language proficiency
- Robustly chastised for my low level of Bangla language proficiency
- Pondered the meaning of life
- Wondered if rural Bangladesh is the most beautiful place on earth
- Wondered why my bus driver was trying to overtake three other buses up ahead
- Wondered how that 93rd passenger was going to find a space to squeeze into on the already cramped bus, but soon realizing there was space for passengers 94, 95 and 96.
So that concludes a brief look at my week in the west. It was fascinating, eye-opening, and at times a little testing. However, it was completely worth it, and evidence once again of why I often question why more tourists don’t come and explore this golden land.
Selfishly I’m glad they don’t though, because there were times on the trip as I sat on the back of a wagon and we meandered our way down a silent, tree-lined country road in the early evening, just as the sun began to set, that I thought to myself, “I’m totally at peace right now.”
UNDER ONE SUN 
