Judging from today’s news, we did well being out of Dhaka yesterday, where there was a series of running battles between police and demonstrators. We were rather taken aback to be preceded by an armed police escort when we set off this morning. Apparently this was supposed to be a mark of respect rather than any concern over our security. As we passed across the next two district boundaries a new escort was waiting, then they lost interest and we proceeded unescorted as before.

The morning’s schedule was to visit the 18th century Kantaje temple at Kanta Nagar, an impressive Hindu shrine decorated with thousands of individually made terracotta bricks. It’s worth a visit if you’re passing by, but didn’t really merit a two hour drive there and a two hour drive back. I had a chat with a young graduate there who was waiting for the results of his master’s in mathematics in a week’s time. He reckoned his chances of finding a job – possibly as a teacher – were slim, and despaired of the political system in Bangladesh.

On the way back, we stopped at a roadside village occupied by the aboriginal people from the area, displaced centuries ago by the current inhabitants. Until recently they had been nomadic, surviving by hunting; they are now settled in houses built from the local clay – one was being built as we watched. The end result is a beautifully neat and clean dwelling, built round a courtyard with an outdoor cooking area. As always, the people were welcoming, and we saw their poultry, cattle, crops, and a few small pigs (more like boar).

Another village visit in the afternoon, to see a village full of craftsmen making rugs from cotton and jute. The rugs on display took a week to produce, and would sell for 35 Tk / sq.ft. 350 households in the area are engaged in this activity. We soon attracted a large crowd of villagers, especially children. Despite the income from weaving, the people were clearly living a very poor existence. Islam despaired of ever seeing his fellow countrymen climb out of poverty when the many, many family planning initiatives were clearly having so little impact.

A final stop in Rangpur in the evening to visit the bazaar – absolutely teeming with people and a frantic, noisy, bustle of activity. Another day of experiences in this wonderful country. It was interesting that several of us mentioned at breakfasts that we had had particularly vivid dreams – a sign of the unconscious working overtime to try and process the mass of information bombarding our senses during the day?

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