Dhaka Diaries: Curry, Chaos, and Questionable Rickshaw Rides
okay, so dhaka. where do i even begin? i’m elara, by the way, and i’m a botanist. usually, i’m knee-deep in ferns and moss, not dodging scooters and trying to decipher street signs that look like abstract art. but hey, fieldwork is fieldwork, right? i’m here studying the surprisingly resilient plant life clinging to life in this concrete jungle.
let’s just say, it’s…an experience. i just checked and it's hovering around thirty-two degrees, feels like thirty, with humidity that could knit a sweater. the air is thick, heavy, and smells like exhaust fumes, spices, and something vaguely floral that i haven’t identified yet - a potential research subject, obviously. pressure’s at a steady 1004, which, honestly, is the least chaotic thing about this place.
my initial plan was to be all organized and have a detailed itinerary. that lasted approximately three hours. now, i’m just…going. wandering. getting delightfully lost. i’ve learned to embrace the chaos. it’s kind of beautiful, in a frantic, overwhelming sort of way.
food. oh, the food. i’ve been living on curries. every kind of curry imaginable. spicy, creamy, tangy, sweet…i’m pretty sure my internal organs are now 70% turmeric. i found this amazing little place near *Gulshan - it’s called ‘Spice Haven’ (check it out on TripAdvisor), though the reviews are mostly in bengali, so good luck with that. someone told me that the owner’s grandmother invented a particular blend of garam masala, and you can taste the history in every bite. it’s true.
getting around is…an adventure. rickshaws are the primary mode of transport, and they’re driven by people who seem to operate on a completely different plane of existence than the rest of us. i nearly got flattened twice already. i’m seriously considering investing in a helmet with a full face shield. i saw a guy on Yelp (Yelp) complaining about the rickshaw drivers - apparently, they’ll chase you down if you don’t haggle hard enough. fair enough, i guess.
“Don’t make eye contact with the cows. Seriously. Just…don’t.” - overheard from a very stressed-looking tourist near Motijheel.
my neighbors? well, if you get bored, Kolkata and Agartala are just a short hop across the border. i haven’t ventured that far yet, but it’s on the list. i’m also trying to track down some specific medicinal plants that are rumored to grow in the Sundarbans mangrove forest - that’s a whole other expedition in itself.
finding accommodation was…interesting. i ended up in a guesthouse in Old Dhaka, which is basically a sensory overload in the best possible way. the walls are crumbling, the electricity flickers, and there’s a constant stream of people coming and going. but it’s real*. it’s raw. it’s dhaka. i found it through a local forum (Bangladesh Travel Forum).
“The traffic lights are purely decorative. Just accept it.” - a very pragmatic local I met at a tea stall.
pro-tip: learn a few basic bengali phrases. it goes a long way. and be prepared to haggle. everything is negotiable. i’m still working on my bargaining skills, but i’m getting there. i also learned that it’s polite to refuse food three times before finally accepting it - apparently, it shows you’re genuinely appreciative. i’m pretty sure i’ve gained five pounds just from refusing food.
and one last thing: download a good offline map. you’ll need it. seriously. i’ve been relying on Google Maps but the signal can be spotty.
this place is…a lot. but it’s also incredible. i’m exhausted, overwhelmed, and covered in dust, but i wouldn’t trade it for anything. i’m learning so much, not just about plants, but about life, about resilience, about the sheer, unadulterated beauty of chaos. i’ll keep you posted (if i can find a decent wifi signal).
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