Where it all started

“…Thank you for flying with us. Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Chittagong. The local time is 11 am, and the temperature is around 26 degrees.”

26 degrees.The window is already misty, and studded with rain droplets. I can’t wait to get out and feel the breeze, that carries with it the smell of the seas. A pang of nostalgia kicks in; familiar sights, smells, and sounds occupy my senses…

When we were checking in for our flight the night before, we were apprehensive. As it turned out (and it often did), my mom, sister and I were the only women in our budget airplane. 

A special and reliable insider working in the industry told us that - air hostesses’ dread taking flights to Bangladesh - especially in budget airlines!  Where do I start? These intricately groomed, beautiful air hostesses are a rare sight for a Bangladeshi to see up front. They will, quiet rudely, stare when they want to. (A sight not very uncommon in Bangladesh – staring is a favorite habit of men, women, children, and elderly alike in the country).

There are however, some perks to being the only women in a flight as such. For one, we got to board before everyone else.  When we got on, the steward was quite surprised to know we spoke in English – “where is your seat ma’am?” – We just found out with a grimace, that we had different seats in the airplane – “Don’t worry!  You speak in English –so I need you all to be near the Emergency Exit. You’ll also get wider space to put your feet around.”  Bliss. 

It didn’t take long for us to doze off. Before we know it, daylight shines through, and we are landing in Chittagong. We are hungry and our bladders are full, but we dare not go in fear of what we will find. As soon as green patches of land appear through our tiny windows, the men are excited, and talk in loud voices. Seatbelts are unstrapped. Mobile phones are taken out, with calls being made to relatives announcing our arrival. Men stand up, ready to dash through the airplane door the moment the plane lands.

“SIT DOWN. THE AIRPLANE HASEN’T LANDED YET. SIT DOWN!  IF YOU DO NOT STRAP YOUR SEATBELTS, I WILL STOP THE AIRCRAFT.”

An exasperated steward has to speak out through the microphone. A man shouts out profanities in Bengali and yells, “How long will we sit? I was sitting all this time!  I’m in Bangladesh now, this is a free country!”

We are an incredibly irritable lot,so the crew is happy to see us off.There are also a few perks to landing in Bangladesh. We happen to know someone, who is a friend of someone important, who is a friend of someone…anyway, we don't have to stay long at the airport, all procedures are rushed through, and we leave early.

How many times have I been here? But I am still surprised.  On the way back home, we pass by ports and shipyards. As we pass by a large, green expanse, we see crowds of young, well uniformed students walking towards a building. My mom exclaims, “They must be from the Marine Academy- they look young- they are freshly enrolled.”

My mind takes me back to old black and white photos of my dad in the Marine Academy.

“It’s a long journey. First, you train for two years at the Academy. Then you join a ship as a Cadet. You must work your way up, learning all you can about being in a ship, and learning how to charter the seas…after years of experience can you be a Captain.”

How many ships has my dad been on? How many seas did he charter? What did he see? So many questions unanswered!

My mind holds on to the black and white photo. I like to think sometimes that I look like him. I always get this feeling that I am closer to him when I am here. Where he spent so much of his life, where he grew up, fell in love, sailed and travelled. So much to explore, to discover. And it all starts here, in the city where I was born.