Day Two – Keokradong Peak – the climb of pain

I woke at 5.30am shivering under my blanket, dying to pee and deafened by the cocks early morning cries. After a breakfast of bread rolls, hard boiled eggs, sweet marmalade and god bless them – Amy and Imran’s coffee, we were ready to set out to the peak.
I had woken up thinking ok I am refreshed and ready to do this, but 15 minutes of constant climbing began to take its toll on my poor knees. The pain however was dulled by the extreme beauty which surrounded us on all sides. I took deep breaths as I pulled my way up and up and felt nothing but the wonderful fresh clean air as my lungs rejoiced after four months of shallow breathing.
We detoured off the road to hike through the muddy paths and rocky terrain, which involved crossing a rather ominously hung bamboo bridge. Back on the road and I climbed some of the steepest hills imaginable in a country known for its below sea level landmass. The saying of the day or in fact of the trip will forever be ‘I will never again say that there are no mountains or hills in Bangladesh’! We finally stopped for a well earned tea and one hundred biscuit break at a small tribal village at the foot of the final climb. The local people were amazing and the tea was wonderfully sweet.
But the break was over all too soon and we painfully reattached our bags to our backs and continued on our bizarre journey. Twenty minutes later, so they claim for it felt like 20 hours to me, and we were there at the highest point in Bangladesh! We stood in exhaustion and amazement and gazed at Bangladesh, Burma and India. The slight haze did little to deter our enjoyment of the fantastic scenery and the amazing feeling of having accomplished our goal.
Never let anyone tell you that once you are there that is it, the journey back was murderous! I never thought that walking down a mountain could possibly be that difficult. My life flashed before my eyes and I imagined myself being found four day later under a tree with my knees permanently locked in the downward sloping position. Anna and I took turns of coming up with the most inventive ways of describing our pain and once again the choice of a diving course in Banani lake seemed to be the favourite. Half way down we came upon a mirage - there was a truck up ahead, maybe they could rescue us or at least take my knees with them; but alas it was unattended and the front axel looked like it was descended to remain in its present location for quite sometime. When it all seemed hopeless and I was willing to give up anything, the village and Bora Lake suddenly appeared on the horizon – a heavenly sight.
A meal of rice, fish and watery dhal was a feast and my stomach sang in grateful appreciation. The quick dip in the lake cooled my tired hot body and was only slightly interrupted by the sudden presence of ten men and their two TV cameras. The afternoon involved absolutely nothing except rest and relaxation and a frenzy of shared massages for tired limbs. But we were all in agreement – despite the pain and the heat we had achieved a great deal, and then to further learn that we were only the third group of foreigners to embark on the task was an added bonus. We were definitely a million miles from ‘the bubble’.
After dinner we fell onto our beds and no one thought it strange that the watches had barely reached the hour of 8.30; our bodies were too tired to acknowledge. We needed our rest for the descent………..

Day one – a bus, a jeep and a lot of water walking

We arrived at the first checkpoint at 6am on the morning of the 22nd and all piled out of the bus to sign the first of many forms which would be presented to us over the next three days. Our time in Bandarban town was brief as we hopped off the bus and into a jeep for the 15 minute climb to the Guide Tours resort. After a much appreciated breakfast and a frenzy of teeth brushing, we got back in the jeeps and set out for Ruma Bazar which was our starting point for the walk. The beauty of the area hit me instantly as we wound our way through the mountain road and gazed on the wonderfully green landscape. Another army checkpoint which involved a person visit to our jeeps by the army major who wanted to meet the crazy bedeshis (foreigners) who were setting out to climb the mountain; he was especially intrigued by the fact that the group consisted of nine girls! On the road again and 20 minutes later we finally arrived in Ruma Bazar, where the excitement in the local market hung in the air at the sight of us with all our gear about the set out on our adventure.
The walk began, and after an initial climb the terrain turned into a pleasant walk through rivers and fields. We stopped for lunch at 1pm and shovelled in our aluminium dishes of rice and vegetables. The shoes went back on and off we went taking in the wonderful landscape all around us and breathing in the fresh air as the warm sun bronzed our deathly pale winter skin. We stopped for tea at a small tribal village at 3 and took a much needed break and all too soon it was time to start again. All was going well as our guide informed us that there was only an hour of walking to go and the anticipation of finally removing the bags from our backs awaited, and then danger struck. Among us, myself included, were individuals who had walked and climbed before but nothing prepared us for what the end of the day had in store. We came upon a group of rocks where water trickled down better them and I gazed up in astonishment as I realised that we were about to climb them. I grabbed at rocks and roots as I plied my way up and up and up. The rocks turned to paths and still we climbed. I panted and heaved my way up and up and up and when finally I felt like I could go no more we reached a rest point where after a brief rest we were off again.
After what seemed like an eternity we turned a corner and there it was, Bora Lake, our destination of the day. The sun was just beginning to set on the water and the little village on the other side looked like Nirvana to my tired feet. Another 20 minutes of endurance of the nerves as well as the body and I finally placed my rucksack on the floor of our bamboo hut, which rested on bamboo stilts over the water. All 14 of us were to make this our home for the next two nights.
A swim in the lake and a meal of rice, dhal and omelette, and all were ready to fall onto our inch thick bamboo beds. This was not until after an hour of wonderful yoga stretching by our own personal Canadian instructor Amina. Day one was over and tomorrow we were going to climb a mountain…….

The highest peak – how it all began……

One Wednesday evening in December, after a gruelling game of indoor five a-side soccer, the Rompemonsters sat around the couch at the old Bagha and contemplated the trials of tribulations of life over a cold beer. Suddenly, a travel plan arouse from the conversation – a trip to the only mountainous region in Bangladesh – the Chittagong Hilltracks. The opportunity of climbing to the top of the highest point in Bangladesh, Keokraddong, and enjoying the fresh air outside of Dhaka seemed too good to be true. The plan was set in motion and the dates were set for the 21st to the 24th of February. Imran, organiser extraordinaire, took upon himself to mastermind the bookings and the travel arrangements and did a wonderful job. The day finally arrived and we all made our way, with our bags on our backs, to Kamelpur bus station to take the overnight bus to Bandarban.

28 years of travelling the planet

No this is not a tribute to myself! This is a reflection on the very interesting 27th year of my life, which as of today is no more. Second birthday in Dhaka, which I must say this time last year was unexpected; however, it has been an interesting year and I can't say I would have rather spent it anywhere else.
Some people take New Year's eve as a time of reflection, I seem to do this around this day every year. I always wonder where I will be the following year and what is in store for me. It is the year of the golden pig according to the Chinese Calendar, a lucky year it seems where already the birth rate in China is expected to triple.
I will leave this fair country in June and head either to Dublin or Sussex to start my PhD. That I think will be my biggest achievement for 28 - just getting there in itself is an achievement and a tribute to the people who believed in me along the way.
So I have/will spend today in the best way I can imagine in Dhaka - eating good food and being with my favourite people in this bustling town.
At this time of year I also tend to reflect on the people who I would love to have around me, but because of the life we all choose is not possible; maybe next year. One of these people is my wee sis. I have noticed a certain lack of commenting on my blog as of late and so I thought I would give you all a reason to comment and give you a little taste of what my and the once shorter than me Dara, looked like all those years ago. Enjoy and please comment.

Cocktail Party

You would not believe the glamour which decended on Dhaka on the night of Friday the 16th. It was truely wonderful to see everyone in their best. With cocktails all around and lots of great chat, we all had a wonderful evening. The dancing continued into the early hours of Saturday morning and yesterday was a struggle for all. Thank you all for giving me a wonderful Dhaka style birthday, it won't be forgotten anytime soon.

Check out the normal 5'11 Vic looking short between Steve and Daniel!!!

Wholesale market of Dhaka

My garments workers research is coming to an end and the writing process looms ahead, but one more exciting field visit was to Chawk Bazar or the wholesale market of Dhaka. It is from this market that most of the shops and market vendors around Dhaka and indeed the entire country get their merchandise. Located right in the centre of old Dhaka, it took my research assistant and I a fair amount of persuading to convince a CNG driver to brave the traffic of the narrow streets and take us to our location.

We eventually managed although we had to pay a rather heafty price for the privledge. 15 minutes later we wrrived right in the middle which can only be described as shoppers chaos. I gazed around in horrified amazment as we debated on where to begin our interviews. Through the course of the next 3 hourswe talked to hair accessory suppliers, cosmetic suppliers, toy suppliers, as well as a number of randomly stocked shops. Peoples curiousity and unease at the same time, was something I had expereinced before, but here it seems to be magnified 4 fold. At one of the toy shops I got a very evil look from the owner when I placed my knee on the ledge in order to lean on it. Not only was I a white woman interviewing him, but I had the audacity to show my ankle to him!!

One interesting part of the afternoon was the final shop which we visited which was a dye coloyr shop for garments. There was jar upon jar of chemical dyes to supply all the garment factories demands. The brothers who ran the shop said that their father had changed to this business as he saw the nature of industry changing in Bangladesh.

Exhausted and feeling like I never wanted to be looked at again, we left the mahem of Chawk Bajar. I am apprehensive to call it a successful afternoon, but I did find it very eye-opening indeed.

Just because I was told to

My wee sis is pretty amazing with the old photoshop and provides Linda and I with regular pictures. Due to my rather busy schedule I have neglected my blog and Dara has been drawing my attention to this fact. I do have an interesting entry on the way about my field work in Chawk Bazar yesterday but will upload that later. So for the moment please enjoy my talented sister's work.