by Carly Hubbard, Hand and Cloth Intern, Bangladesh

Sometimes it’s easy to forget about the rest of the world when you’re living in a city like Dhaka. Horns honking, trash rotting, bells ringing, music playing, fruit decaying, heat scorching, and people shouting all around you on a constant basis provide extreme sensory overload. And as our busy lives continue on, it’s easy to forget that not every part of the world is just like this.

Arriving to Bangladesh as a bideshi (foreigner), one quickly comes face to face with the quick realization that having a different skin color means attracting a great deal of attention. In order to avoid offending locals (particularly in Mirpur, where Hand & Cloth is located), and to make some sort of attempt at “blending in,” it is important that women dress with substantial modesty, which is most easily achieved by wearing a shalwar kameez. One of two traditional forms of dress for Bengalis, the outfit consists of a knee length shirt, baggy pants, and a matching scarf to cover up your chest. The other option is to wear a sari. But as beautiful as they are, they aren’t always as comfortable to walk in, and wrapping the fabric around your body requires a bit more skill.

Walking or bus riding to work in Dhaka is always an adventure and a far stretch from the mundane traffic on many commutes we experience back home in the States. Streetlights aren’t often found, and when they are, they (along with the majority of traffic laws) could more accurately be described as suggestions for the common motorist. If you don’t have a car (as is the case with most people) your best options are to catch a ride on a rickshaw, CNG, maxi, or bus.

Rickshaws are a sort of buggy attached to the back of a bike. As you hop on, the trusty rickshaw walla will peddle as hard as he can, exerting as much strength as his tiny frame can handle as you weave through traffic, heading in the direction of your choosing. CNG’s are a bit more expensive, but they’ll get you to your destination much quicker. The “Compressed Natural Gas” vehicles cart you around as you’re caged in by metal doors. Maxi’s and busses provide a slightly cheaper option of public transport (as long as you’re able to run along side and hop on if the driver decides to leave before you’re ready to go). Crowded and smelly, there’s definitely a reason they’re the cheaper options – but they certainly get the job done!

Since we’ve decided it’s nice to avoid public transportation altogether every so often, we’ve begun to walk to work on a regular basis. Of course, walking does present it’s own set of challenges. Besides weaving through the crowds of people, its doubtful that you’ll make it very far before having multiple “hello, how are you?” or “bideshi!” comments. But more often than that, people will simply stare. After realizing you’re walking by, they’ll nudge their friend sitting next to them and point in our direction. Oh the excitement of a different skin color!

But arriving to the office, things seem to change. Sure, its still hot and the traffic outside the window never does seem to stop, but suddenly all of the “good morning, how are you?” questions sent in your direction mean more than just making fun of the white person walking down the street. The women have been working incredibly diligently.  Sameh, who a few weeks ago said she couldn’t make kantha blanets, even managed to finish an entire small blanket in one day!

And besides keeping their fingers busy stitching away, the women of Hand and Cloth have been challenged academically for the past few weeks as their English lessons continue to increase in difficulty, adding new letters, vocab, and phrases by the day. (And I’m proud to announce a few of the women have begun reading simple words!)

So, amidst the chaos and traffic, we journey through Dhaka for another day in the office. And upon our arrival to our little haven of support and transforming livelihoods, we continue to work on – and I couldn’t be more proud of the women I have the privilege of working alongside.