South to Banderban

The police were super friendly at the first checkpoint and let us all take photos with his hat.

The police were super friendly at the first checkpoint and let us all take photos with his hat.

This weekend was all about the journey: we spent more time getting places than being there, but that’s what you get for trying to do everything in just a weekend. It was my first trip in the south of Bangladesh and I am lucky that my Ultimate frisbee friends don’t mind going so far, with so little time.

We started out at the train station in Dhaka, across from the airport, and took a direct train to Chittagong. It wasn’t fast, but at least we didn’t have to stop on the way. Once there, the father of one of the group members picked us up and we got a plush car ride through downtown Chittagong by night. He’s one of the Bangladeshi members of our Ultimate frisbee group, who learned to play in Australia. It was a fast five minute tour, but we saw quite a bit: the train station, the new cricket stadium, the markets and the cemetery.

We hit the road early the next morning, stuffed with home-cooked food and parental warnings about how to travel safely. I was so excited to see the countryside and get out of the city. I’ve been trying not to judge Bangladesh by Dhaka, just as I wouldn’t want somebody to judge the whole United States based only on visiting D.C., but after six months of living here, the city is all I’ve seen.

February is towards the end of the dry season, so in most places it has hardly rained in months. The roads were choked with dust and I kept a bandana over my mouth and nose, thinking of cowboys trailing herds that kicked up dust. There were a few cows, but mostly it was busses, trucks and rickshaws keeping the dust from settling on the road. Brick making chimneys cluster around the edge of the city, spewing choking smoke and contributing to the haze that blankets the lowlands.

Once the bus started climbing into the hills, we could see down onto the smog, and it reminded me of winter inversions in Boise, when the air looks think enough to walk on, when you get up in the mountains and look back down. The hills around Bandarban aren’t as high as the mountains in Idaho, but they’re the only elevation I’ve ever seen in Bangladesh.

The only hiccup on the way to Bandarban was when we crossed into the region of the Hill Tracts, where foreigners have to have special permits to avoid police escorts. The permits are a long story, that has to do with an incident involving a Danish NGO in 2007. Check the Bradt Guide for details. The bus stopped at the police checkpoint and we (the foreigners) were ushered off. The guard manning the station said that this would take a while and told the bus not to wait; he’d find us another ride for the last few minutes into town.

Stranded with some very friendly police in a bamboo hut overlooking a lovely valley, surrounded by palm trees and curious goats, I felt grateful not to be in the city. It was a fresh spring day, sunny but not hot. Our group member from Chittagong went around behind the counter to help with the paperwork, and we were soon on our way.

After another bus, then a truck ride up to Hillside Resort ( http://www.bandarbantours.com/hotels-resorts/hill-side-resort ) we finally got to stand up and walk around. It was already afternoon, but we had plenty of time to do some sight seeing after lunch. The first stop was the Buddha Dhatu Jadi, also known as the Bandarban Golden Temple. The statues of the Buddha, facing out over the valleys in all directions, represent different eras of Buddhism in the region. It was crowded, just like everywhere in Bangladesh, but it was a much calmer crowd than I've seen in Dhaka.

The next stop was sunset on a nearby ridge, then dinner down in the town of Bandarban. We found a local restaurant with venison and wild boar on the menu, though I stuck to rice and veggies. It was fascinating to see how different this area was from the countryside we had traveled through, and what a stark contrast it was to life in Dhaka. It sounds silly, but it felt more Asian than other parts of Bangladesh. Signs were still in Bangla, but people spoke differently enough that our friends from Chittagong had a hard time understanding them. Clothes and food were different. Everything was different from Dhaka..

We spent the evening sitting on the back porch of one of our cabins, watching the stars and enjoying being outside. I hope to go back during the rainy season to see how lush it is. It was so wonderful to be able to see the stars, to be away from so much air pollution. The sky was beautiful, the beds were soft and the mosquito nets were purple. What more could you ask for?

The next morning, after a hearty breakfast, we piled in the back of a pickup for a full day’s touring. I don’t know the names of all the places we visited, but they included more hilltops and waterfalls and lots of really beautiful mountain roads. We climbed trees and took pictures of each other hanging off the back of the truck. It was sunny but not hot, perfect weather, really.

Eventually we had to cram back in a bus for the trip from Bandarban to Chittagong. The bus paused at the police checkpoint, but the guards let us off with a quick signature and said they’d take care of the rest of the paperwork later so the bus wouldn’t leave without us. It was a long, dusty bus ride back to Chittagong, though at least we were greeted by another home-cooked meal and a break from the road at our friend’s house. The train ride north to Dhaka was quieter than on the way south, since this one didn’t have a tv, and we settled in as best we could. It was a long night and the train arrived early, at 5:45 rather than the scheduled 6am. I caught a cab straight to work, arriving at 6:15.

I wouldn’t do it again over a weekend, but I really hope to go back this September or October to see the hills in the rainy season and perhaps get out to the lakes. This might just be the beginning of my travels around Bangladesh!

Heather Jasper

Traveler, writer, and photographer.

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