Understanding Bangladesh

July 27: Back from the beach

It was hard to leave the beach life at Cox’s Bazar: the salt air, casual atmosphere and sound of crashing waves made our stay a respite for our group, now approaching our third week in country.

After supper last night, a few of us ventured to the beach and found it safe and tranquil. While we scuttled crabs with our flashlights, we saw families strolling and heard groups of young men singing. There was just enough moonlight for the lovers.

We stopped at Dalahazara Safari Park, a 3,000 acre park established in 1999. Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina, a nature lover, recognized the need for a place that would provide education and employment and also a breeding program for endangered and threatened species.

Until the 1960’s, the Bengal tiger lived in evergreen forests which once covered the area. Human land use and poaching took their toll here, just like clearing prairie for agriculture threatened the American bison.

A few animals at the park are from Africa, and there’s even a North American turkey. Most of the species of birds, deer, bear, elephants, monkeys and reptiles are native. Like the Safari Parks near Omaha and San Diego, one travels in a vehicle, but may get out at assigned viewing areas.

The two Bengal tigers were beautiful, and the turtle with flippers caught my attention. There was a viewing bridge for the 54 crocodiles, and a few of our group took the opportunity to ride an elephant.

Several monkeys had free range, and looked for handouts from the keeper who accompanied us. A snack bar at the end featured a man with a machete who expertly whacked open fresh coconuts and inserted drinking straws.

The preservation efforts and breeding program are examples of the sophistication we find in Bangladesh. This insight may be missing from your concept of a developing country.

Rural Bangladeshis protect themselves from monsoon rains with a woven raincoat called a mathal.

Rain caught us a few times during the day, for brief intervals.

Like an Iowa thunderstorm, there is a palpable heat buildup. Thunderheads tower; the rain a welcome release. Skies don’t clear, and the heat builds anew.

We returned to Chittagong, a grimy working city where it is all about ships coming in and out. There seems to be less public art inside the tangles of roundabouts here than in Dhaka or Rajshahi.

Others have scoffed at my interest in public art (which runs the gamut from metal abstractions to giant mangoes and herons and includes mosaics of the Language Martyrs). I have come to believe that art, literature, and history are part of the glue that holds a country together. Students here memorize and can recite Tagore’s poetry. When people come to your town, what art do they see? What poetry and songs hold us together?

Right now I hear the evening call to prayer -- part of the glue that holds Bangladesh together. Like our church bells, the sound is expected, understood, and comfortable.

-- Kathy Sundtedt   |    Login or Join to Post Comments