10.09.2012

A dusty ride

It 11pm in Dhaka and I am on a rickshaw going back to my apartment and a feeling of unease comes over me because I know that in about 30 min I am going to give this guy less than a dollar for taking me 8-10km. Its hot, humid, dusty, and hazy from all the pollution but it feels so peaceful compared to what it was like just 4 short hours ago.  During the ride, I experienced potholes that were big enough to swallow up  the wheels, yet the driver without struggle manages to miss them all. Buses that look like tin can bumper cars that were hand pounded and wielded together and giant trucks caring  huge amounts of brick into the city for the massive amounts of construction. All these vehicles plus the CnG's and regular cars come within  a foot of the rickshaw and it scares the fuck out of me but it does not phase him. One of the roads is so bad that I think any gravel road in the USA would be considered a god send but its okay for me because I have a cushioned seat. My diver on the other hand looks like he has taken a seat off of a kids bike and screwed it on for the little bit of added comfort he gets when hes not pumping his ass off trying to keep the single speed moving (Go fucking hipsters and your single speed fixed gears, this guy would probably think your a fucking fool). The whole time I am seeing people sleeping on the streets and people huddled around a kerosene fire drinking sugar water (tea) and whatever else for sale. I get off the rickshaw give the gentleman his money, he rings his bell and is off looking for the next 40 cent customer.The REALNESS of life...