Bangladesh? That's by India, right?

I once considered myself to be quite the little smarty-pants when it came to geography. In fact, this is how dorky I was as a kid: I had a little red duo-tang (sp?) where I would create geography lessons for myself and then I’d make my parents test me. There was one point – I think I was about eight – when I could recite every county in Europe. I was pretty proud of that fact and any of my parents’ friends who had the misfortune of coming over to our house during this phase probably fell victim to this “game” of mine. I was a geography nerd. Hard core. So, when the opportunity came up for me to travel to Bangladesh, I’m embarrassed to say that the first thing I did was refer to a map. But my secret’s out now… here on the internet for so many people to read (even though I know few actually will). I didn’t know where Bangladesh was.

But now I know! It’s a small, densely-populated country mostly surrounded by India, but also bordering Myanmar (Burma) on the south-east side. Nepal and Bhutan are close but not touching. Until the 1971, it was East Pakistan. Before that, East Bengal. And before that it was colonial India (watch Ghandi; you’ll understand… kinda). It regularly endures flood, famine, monsoons, cyclones, and tsunamis. In fact, it seems the only nature disaster that it doesn’t have to contend with is drought. All this and more prompted Henry Kissinger to once call Bangladesh “an international basket case”… a reputation it is fiercely trying to shake. It is the birthplace of Muhammad Yunus, the man who invented micro-loans, a Nobel Peace prize winner, and a hero of mine. It contains a crazy city that never sleeps in the centre (Dhaka), a man-eating-tiger-filled mangrove in the south-west (the Sundarbans), ruins of ancient cities and temples in the north-west, old colonial tea estates in the north-east (Sylet), and beaches, ship-breaking yards, and remote hill tribes in the south-east (Chittagong, where I’ll spend most of my time).

This is pretty much everything I now know about the country. That, and that there will be a man waiting for me at the airport holding an “Mr. Amanda” sign. The rest of my knowledge is yet to be learned. Truthfully, I don’t really know if there’s a point in learning much more before leaving as I fully expect all pre-conceived notions to be challenged. I guess I’ll just have to find out!