Faces of Biratnagar

After several days in the Himalayan region, overlooking the peak of Mt. Everest while photographing story of tea, the Maoists stole my peace.. Their strike was planned for the following day which set up an early end to my stay in Kuwapani.

I packed my bags and headed down the hills. My flight wasn't scheduled until the following day so I stayed in a hotel in city Biratnagar for one night.

This very industrial town, on the border with Indian was harsh transition to the reality after spending few days in the Himalayan paradise.. However, I was ready to explore.. At down and dusk I hired a rickshaw to head out to meet the people.

The little nepali I knew by then, took me a long way. It wasn't so bad, after all..

Boatmen of Sadarghat

This boat terminal in Old Dhaka was about the most impressive place I've seen in Bangladesh. When I arrived, as the only tourist around, I thought I was in a fairyland. I couldn't believe that what I was looking at was real..

When we got on a boat and asked our boatman "How much?" He bargained the price in the most effective way I've heard in the whole time I've been in Asia: "I'm a poor man, you are well off, it's up to you what you want to give me.."

Bangladesh

“Visiting Bangladesh is the closest you’ll come to achieving celebrity status.” Is what I read in Lonely Planet before my arrival to Dhaka.

It was not until the evening when I went on a short walk in the neighborhood, when I learned that there was no exaggeration in that piece of information..

After I left the apartment and walked about 10 meters far, I had a company of about 5 kids. This small crowd multiplied about every minute or so. People stopped on the street, turned around and out of a sudden everyone went my direction. Two blocks later I was accompanied by about 30-40 people who surrounded me from all sides and just stared at me.. they stared, I stared and nothing moved..

Later on one woman gestured one way and asked me to fallow her. Not having a choice, I went.. She took me to her home and on the way showed me homes of others as well. Here and there she woke up somebody placed them in front of my camera, checked if my image turned out ok and then send them back to sleep.

Though on Ramadan themselves, they offered me food, then pointed out my sweat and that shower is right there and suggested I should also take a photograph of the inside of their houses.. I was quite overwhelmed by all the happenings. By the end of my evening walk I knew more things about myself than I could have ever noticed, as they haven’t hesitate to point them out. I don't think I've ever seen anybody laughing so much about blond hair before.

Language barrier was the smallest obstacle that afternoon.