I was up at 6 on the morning of the 1st in Srimangal. I hired a CNG to take me to Lowacherra National Park, only about five miles from town. The sun was just rising through the trees as I arrived. The park encompasses a beautiful patch of jungle, inhabited by endangered hoolock gibbons, the only apes found in Bangladesh. Only about 200 of these gibbons are in Bangladesh, and about 60 of those in Lowacherra. I pretty much had the place to myself in the early morning. Right away I spotted two white topped langurs high in a tree. Leaves and pee were dropping from the tree and the langurs. I could see their long tails so I knew they weren't gibbons which, like all apes, have no tails, and eventually I could spot the white at the top of their heads. All of a sudden I heard a rumble, getting louder, and then a speeding train passed through the park on the tracks near the entrance. That was quite an intrusion. Two more trains passed through while I was there.
I walked a little deeper into the jungle and spotted four or five hoolock gibbons in the trees. One was a female, with brown fur, and the others were black furred males. They were eating fruit and occasionally swinging gracefully through the trees. Some were smaller than others, juveniles I suppose. Despite the early morning dim light, I could make out their distinctive white eyebrows. One hung onto a limb and looked down at me. I watched them for maybe half an hour before they disappeared.
I also saw a big squirrel (maybe an orange-bellied Himalayan squirrel) and several noisy pig tailed macaques in the trees. There were also lots of butterflies and chattering birds. I came across an enormous spider web with a big spider, perhaps two inches long, in the middle of it. I could watch it up close, maybe a foot away. I walked all around the jungle on several different paths and came back to the spider and its web several times. At one time it was wrapping up an insect caught in the web.
The jungle was beautiful, with ferns, bamboo, and big trees and I enjoyed just waling around. It seemed small, though, as I kept reaching spots with the jungle cleared for culltivation, and as the morning progressed I encountered some local people on the paths. There were no other tourists the whole time I was there.
I left about 11, taking a CNG back to Srimangal for a late breakfast and then leaving on a 12:30 bus for Sylhet, about 50 miles north, a journey of more than two hours. The sky was cloudy and the countryside relatively dry. I rarely saw rice growing in water-filled paddies. I saw more patches of rice stubble than rice growing.
To reach the center of Sylhet from the bus station I took a bicycle rickshaw, crossing an arched bridge over the Surma River, maybe 500 feet in width. The bridge was jammed with vehicles of all sorts, quite a chaotic mess. The arch of the bridge prevented the rickshaw driver from pedaling up to its crest, so he had to get off and push. I started to get off, too, but he waved me back on. Then I noticed a teenage boy was pushing from behind. The driver paid him a few taka when we reached the crest of the bridge. Rickshaw pushing boys wait at the bridge to make a few taka helping the rickshaws getting across.
After getting a hotel I walked to the General Osmani Museum in what was his simple three room house. He is a hero of the 1971 war and appears to have led a very simple life. He had a great mustache. The soldiers guarding the museum accompanied me all through the little museum. Maybe they wondered what I was doing there.
I took an electric rickshaw to the Shrine of Hazrat Shah Jalal, a 14th century Sufi saint. It is one of the biggest pilgrimage sites in the country. There was a big crowd in and around the mostly modern buildings. I got lots of stares and questions. In a graveyard on one side was a grave of a mother and daughter who had lived in New York.
The next morning I hoped to cross into India via the border crossing about 30 miles north of Sylhet. The morning was surprisingly foggy as I left at 8:45 on a bus to Tamabil on the border. The trip was very slow, with lots of stops and taking two and a half hours to go just a bit more than 30 miles. Once the fog lifted the sky was hazy. On the way, as on the day before, little rice growing, but lots of rice stubble remained in the dry paddies. Near the border are many rock crushing operations, and lots of piles of gravel and dust. I've read this is the only part of Bangladesh that produces gravel. The forested hills of the Indian state of Meghalaya are just over the border.
I walked to the border post with my expired visa in hope that the guards would let me exit without a problem, or with only a small fine. They were very friendly, but were firm that they could not let me through and that I had to go to Dhaka to sort it all out. I had suspected that would be the case. I hired a CNG for 500 taka (about $6.50) to take me back to Sylhet, where I could catch a bus for Dhaka. The CNG was much faster than that morning's bus, but it still took me almost two hours to get back. In Sylhet I ate a quick lunch and then caught a bus to Dhaka leaving shortly after 2. The bus took about 6 hours to cover 150 miles. It was not a pleasant trip. The bus driver blew his horn incessantly. The scenery was drab. The sky cloudy and the air hazy. About 5:30 the bus crossed the wide Padma River. There were lots of garment factories on the other side of the river. Darkness fell between 6 and 6:30 and the bus encountered heavy traffic coming into Dhaka, arriving about 8.
It took most of the next day to get everything sorted out. I hired a CNG to take me to the Immigration Office by the time it opened at 10. We passed by the National Assembly Building on the way. The Immigration Office was chaotic, not to my surprise. Fortunately, a Bangladeshi named Mohammed who works for the United Nations Development Program, but was not busy at work that day, helped me out. I had to pay 2400 taka ($31) for the 12 days I had overstayed, plus a whopping 12,640 taka ($160) for a new visa to. I think I might have had to pay that $160 if I had been able to get a visa at the Bangladeshi consulate in Agartala in India. I didn't have all that taka on me, so we went to three or four ATMS, in each of which I unsuccessfully tried to withdraw cash. We then tried three banks as I tried to change American currency into taka, and finally succeeded at the third. I was lucky to have Mohammed with me. I paid Immigration about 11:30 and then had to wait to submit my application, which I finally did about 1. I was told I had to wait but should get my visa by the end of the day.
Mohammed took me to the cafeteria at a nearby building where UNDP and other UN agencies have their offices, and I gladly bought him lunch. I spent the rest of the afternoon waiting at Immigration and, lo and behold, got my new visa about 4. I took a CNG back to my hotel and had dinner that evening with Mark and Kirsty, who were flying out of Bangladesh the next day.
I walked a little deeper into the jungle and spotted four or five hoolock gibbons in the trees. One was a female, with brown fur, and the others were black furred males. They were eating fruit and occasionally swinging gracefully through the trees. Some were smaller than others, juveniles I suppose. Despite the early morning dim light, I could make out their distinctive white eyebrows. One hung onto a limb and looked down at me. I watched them for maybe half an hour before they disappeared.
I also saw a big squirrel (maybe an orange-bellied Himalayan squirrel) and several noisy pig tailed macaques in the trees. There were also lots of butterflies and chattering birds. I came across an enormous spider web with a big spider, perhaps two inches long, in the middle of it. I could watch it up close, maybe a foot away. I walked all around the jungle on several different paths and came back to the spider and its web several times. At one time it was wrapping up an insect caught in the web.
The jungle was beautiful, with ferns, bamboo, and big trees and I enjoyed just waling around. It seemed small, though, as I kept reaching spots with the jungle cleared for culltivation, and as the morning progressed I encountered some local people on the paths. There were no other tourists the whole time I was there.
I left about 11, taking a CNG back to Srimangal for a late breakfast and then leaving on a 12:30 bus for Sylhet, about 50 miles north, a journey of more than two hours. The sky was cloudy and the countryside relatively dry. I rarely saw rice growing in water-filled paddies. I saw more patches of rice stubble than rice growing.
To reach the center of Sylhet from the bus station I took a bicycle rickshaw, crossing an arched bridge over the Surma River, maybe 500 feet in width. The bridge was jammed with vehicles of all sorts, quite a chaotic mess. The arch of the bridge prevented the rickshaw driver from pedaling up to its crest, so he had to get off and push. I started to get off, too, but he waved me back on. Then I noticed a teenage boy was pushing from behind. The driver paid him a few taka when we reached the crest of the bridge. Rickshaw pushing boys wait at the bridge to make a few taka helping the rickshaws getting across.
After getting a hotel I walked to the General Osmani Museum in what was his simple three room house. He is a hero of the 1971 war and appears to have led a very simple life. He had a great mustache. The soldiers guarding the museum accompanied me all through the little museum. Maybe they wondered what I was doing there.
I took an electric rickshaw to the Shrine of Hazrat Shah Jalal, a 14th century Sufi saint. It is one of the biggest pilgrimage sites in the country. There was a big crowd in and around the mostly modern buildings. I got lots of stares and questions. In a graveyard on one side was a grave of a mother and daughter who had lived in New York.
The next morning I hoped to cross into India via the border crossing about 30 miles north of Sylhet. The morning was surprisingly foggy as I left at 8:45 on a bus to Tamabil on the border. The trip was very slow, with lots of stops and taking two and a half hours to go just a bit more than 30 miles. Once the fog lifted the sky was hazy. On the way, as on the day before, little rice growing, but lots of rice stubble remained in the dry paddies. Near the border are many rock crushing operations, and lots of piles of gravel and dust. I've read this is the only part of Bangladesh that produces gravel. The forested hills of the Indian state of Meghalaya are just over the border.
I walked to the border post with my expired visa in hope that the guards would let me exit without a problem, or with only a small fine. They were very friendly, but were firm that they could not let me through and that I had to go to Dhaka to sort it all out. I had suspected that would be the case. I hired a CNG for 500 taka (about $6.50) to take me back to Sylhet, where I could catch a bus for Dhaka. The CNG was much faster than that morning's bus, but it still took me almost two hours to get back. In Sylhet I ate a quick lunch and then caught a bus to Dhaka leaving shortly after 2. The bus took about 6 hours to cover 150 miles. It was not a pleasant trip. The bus driver blew his horn incessantly. The scenery was drab. The sky cloudy and the air hazy. About 5:30 the bus crossed the wide Padma River. There were lots of garment factories on the other side of the river. Darkness fell between 6 and 6:30 and the bus encountered heavy traffic coming into Dhaka, arriving about 8.
It took most of the next day to get everything sorted out. I hired a CNG to take me to the Immigration Office by the time it opened at 10. We passed by the National Assembly Building on the way. The Immigration Office was chaotic, not to my surprise. Fortunately, a Bangladeshi named Mohammed who works for the United Nations Development Program, but was not busy at work that day, helped me out. I had to pay 2400 taka ($31) for the 12 days I had overstayed, plus a whopping 12,640 taka ($160) for a new visa to. I think I might have had to pay that $160 if I had been able to get a visa at the Bangladeshi consulate in Agartala in India. I didn't have all that taka on me, so we went to three or four ATMS, in each of which I unsuccessfully tried to withdraw cash. We then tried three banks as I tried to change American currency into taka, and finally succeeded at the third. I was lucky to have Mohammed with me. I paid Immigration about 11:30 and then had to wait to submit my application, which I finally did about 1. I was told I had to wait but should get my visa by the end of the day.
Mohammed took me to the cafeteria at a nearby building where UNDP and other UN agencies have their offices, and I gladly bought him lunch. I spent the rest of the afternoon waiting at Immigration and, lo and behold, got my new visa about 4. I took a CNG back to my hotel and had dinner that evening with Mark and Kirsty, who were flying out of Bangladesh the next day.
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