Each year 1/5th of Bangladesh is flooded, displacing millions. I got an email from a friend that taught me to play cricket in Dhaka. He told me that the floods were upon them once again.
I worry that global warning is going to kill the world’s coral reefs. In Bangladesh this must seem like a frivolous concern.
The latest round of flooding has hit us, and once more it was deep. I went out to take some photos and it was up to my knees, but I managed to get a few shots in between dodging floating chicken heads and bits of paper. We had to a take a rickshaw through to get back to the flat, a precarious ride as the drivers do not really adjust their driving approach despite not knowing what is under the water.
Newspapers never talk about floating chicken heads.
Here’s another passage from the Bangladesh Barta about a big CNG (a motorized rickshaw) and its tiny driver:
On the way back, our CNG was a large Indian one, the biggest I have seen in Bangladesh. Yet it was driven by a midget, the smallest CNG driver I have seen here. Though it might come out of a Dali painting, it doesn’t look out of place here.