In Bangladesh

We flew over Iran at night and outside, I saw scattered clumps of light. Then, I saw the sun rise over the blackened outlines of sand dunes and/or mountains (not sure which), the horizon lined bright bright orange. I wanted to be down there so bad.

Bangladesh is crowded.

My dad says human life here has no value and it shows: kids and people walk and run haphazardly across streets with no lanes nor stop lights, streets filled with cars, rickshaws, baby taxis, buses and just other people. The air is constantly thick with exhaust, dust and other assorted goods.

Development is booming here--there are billboards boasting of luxury apartment buildings and new storefronts everywhere. Homes are everywhere. There are buildings in unfinished states, their pillars standing alone, supporting nothing at all.

It's different from what I remember.

Even my father's home is different--instead of the expansive one-story floor, with many rooms and the roof where I kept a secret hiding place, it is now one-half of that home, the other half another aprtment for another family, and on top, there are more apartments.

It's disappointing.

In lighter news, I did get to go on a boat ride with my cousins. The river was nice (I forgot the name, but I'll get it later), and the boat was low. It was perfect.

It's unnerving how much people stare. I don't know if it's because it's normal to stare or because it's so obvious that I'm American, but it's hard to get used to. When I travel in the summer, I'm going to wear salwar kameezes because it's just easier that way.

I'm at my cousin's place right now--the only place I've been to that has internet. There is more I want to say and show, but I don't have my pictures or notebook with me now. I'll save that for next time.

Till then.