In the Dead of Night

A post from 2/26, not yet published on this blog:

In a jeep, driving from Jessore to Kulhna through small villages, woods, dark fields, with a stranger, I played a little game where I tried to count how long I could look out into the night and not see another person. It never happened. I always saw people walking, carrying loads, riding bicycles. People everywhere.

You really learn to control your imagination when in these kinds of situations in Bangladesh. I stepped out of the jeep and two men waiting on the street took my bags. Without a word and just a quick wave from my driver, I followed them through a market, into the darkness, down the dock towards a tiny boat, the sounds of the village life fading behind me. We pushed off the dock and rowed in silence except for the tinny, small splashes of water and faint din from the town and far away motorboats.

I boarded the M.V. Chhuti, our boat for the Sundarbans tour. My cabin was small, about 5 by 7 feet with two hanging bunks, a mirror and nighttable. No electricity, but cosy, comfortable and simply what I needed. I wasn't expecting dinner so late (11:00 pm) and I was the only person to arrive the night before our departure, but in true Bangladeshi hospitality, a huge meal was waiting for me in the lounge: dal (lentils), rice, roasted cauliflower, vegetable curry, salad, prawns, fried fish, an orange, tea and cookies. I ate alone. An oil lamp lit my small area, just beyond the radius of light- darkness. I was alone, but watched, and taken care of. I knew I was safe.