My only prior experience with rickshaws before coming here was watching the Seinfeld episode featuring Kramer's harebrained scheme to have homeless men in NYC drive them. The men ride off on the rickshaws...and never come back. Remember, Seinfeld fans? It's one of my laugh out loud favorites.
Fast forward to the here and now, and a rickshaw is my preferred (and only) form of free time transportation in Chittagong, just as a muumuu was my preferred (and only) form of formal dress in Kosrae. We haven't had much free time recently, though, so I've only been on one rickshaw ride so far. But now that I've gotten over the slight intimidation factor, I am excited to embrace what will likely be lots of wild rides! It is an odd experience to have a man smaller than yourself using pure physical exertion to pull you up hills...and get off and actually push you...we definitely weigh more than the average Bangladeshis. Especially when telling the Rickshawala (driver) where to go, directing him, and asking him to stop are all uncertainties. The only Bangla I know is "My name is Helen. I am from America." Working on it.
We've ridden the rickshaws two by two. Three American girls would be too many. You and your riding buddy share a short seat that's above the driver and must keep your bag between your legs. And watch out: You don't want to fall out of the sides! (A real possibility.)
A rickshaw ride from our apartments to school (about 15-20 minutes) costs roughly 25 Taka...that's about 30 American cents. I know, right?! But it's easy to think of things as "cheap" here, when it's not the case for Bangladeshis.
One thing about rickshaws that I did not expect is how stylish they are! The back of each rickshaw is decorated with unique art:
And finally, some more about transportation. Check out this bus:
We rode that big baby on a field trip with the students this week. Inside the seats are green, with three on one side of the the row and two on the other. Snazzy!
Tomorrow (Friday) begins the weekend. Nope, it's not a holiday - that's just how they do it here. Since Friday is the day of community prayer for Muslims, Friday and Saturday are the weekend and Sunday starts the work week. My brain is still figuring it all out. Onward to a real bazaar (big outside market) tomorrow! My field director said it's right out of Aladdin!
Fast forward to the here and now, and a rickshaw is my preferred (and only) form of free time transportation in Chittagong, just as a muumuu was my preferred (and only) form of formal dress in Kosrae. We haven't had much free time recently, though, so I've only been on one rickshaw ride so far. But now that I've gotten over the slight intimidation factor, I am excited to embrace what will likely be lots of wild rides! It is an odd experience to have a man smaller than yourself using pure physical exertion to pull you up hills...and get off and actually push you...we definitely weigh more than the average Bangladeshis. Especially when telling the Rickshawala (driver) where to go, directing him, and asking him to stop are all uncertainties. The only Bangla I know is "My name is Helen. I am from America." Working on it.
We've ridden the rickshaws two by two. Three American girls would be too many. You and your riding buddy share a short seat that's above the driver and must keep your bag between your legs. And watch out: You don't want to fall out of the sides! (A real possibility.)
A rickshaw ride from our apartments to school (about 15-20 minutes) costs roughly 25 Taka...that's about 30 American cents. I know, right?! But it's easy to think of things as "cheap" here, when it's not the case for Bangladeshis.
One thing about rickshaws that I did not expect is how stylish they are! The back of each rickshaw is decorated with unique art:
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| It's never hard to grab one. |
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| Looking over the rickshawala's head onto the crazy Chittagong streets. |
And finally, some more about transportation. Check out this bus:
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| Riding in class |
We rode that big baby on a field trip with the students this week. Inside the seats are green, with three on one side of the the row and two on the other. Snazzy!
Tomorrow (Friday) begins the weekend. Nope, it's not a holiday - that's just how they do it here. Since Friday is the day of community prayer for Muslims, Friday and Saturday are the weekend and Sunday starts the work week. My brain is still figuring it all out. Onward to a real bazaar (big outside market) tomorrow! My field director said it's right out of Aladdin!
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