I’ve recently returned to Bangladesh and felt a lot about coming back to what has become my new home. Here’s a letter I wrote to somebody I volunteered with who just went back to Canada last week..

Hey Monique,

Great to hear from you! It’s too bad I missed you guys at the returned volunteer weekend—what a great chance to see and catch up with everybody. It would have been so much fun to just.. chat! Chat about Bangladesh, chat about how things are going now, and to reminisce about the nuttiness of this side of the world.

Speaking of back here, you are right: I am back now and to be honest (hee hee, I’m going to try and make you envious now), I was really looking forward to coming back to Bangladesh (how many people do you know say that?). Yes, naturally I was looking forward to coming back and seeing Bel, but I was also looking forward to coming back, for my own reasons. I missed Bangladesh while I was gone—I didn’t know it at the time but as soon as I was back I felt a wave of happiness at being able to experience more of this place. My parents still dislike me staying here, and constantly asked me when I’m getting out while I was back. Nevertheless, Bangladesh is still in my blood, at least for the moment.

Truthfully, not much has changed, people-wise, since you left. Saifullah is doing his MBA exams and will be out of the office this week, and he still doesn’t have any firm marriage prospects yet, despite my constant teasing. Khobir spoke most wisely about my grandfather’s passing when he told me (using his own words of course) that we will all pass away one day and that is of course a part of life. What I like most about Kobir is that he always wants to express himself regardless of any language barrier, and I do really love him for that. Everybody welcomed me back most kindly to the office and expressed their condolences and, above all, I felt I’d rejoined the little community we have here at VSO. It was a good feeling.

In terms of the being back in Dhaka, I also have to admit I missed this city, despite its ugly warts. The temperature is starting to pick up—I’m currently typing this from my room in the flat and the fan is on once again. (I’m very happy because I purchased a new piece of hardware that can beam internet even up to our flat! It’s awesome.) The power—as in electricity—situation is being managed now: all stores must shut down after 7pm in order to conserve electricity, but despite this there are still hour-long cuts in the evenings.

Best of all: We went for a walk yesterday around Dhanmondi and I knew it was the Bengali faces I missed the most. All the wonderful faces of Bangladesh: the mutually curious looks; the children who give you a smile even if you offer nothing more than a quick conversation instead of a taka or two; the every day scenes of incredibly difficult hardship and incredibly affluent lifestyle; the friendly army officer at the airport taking a moment to ask me where I’d just arrived from (security with a smile?). This is Bangladesh at its best, the people, the wonderful, the intriguing, the beautiful and the desolate. The full range of human existence: the dreadfully deformed, the wickedly wealthy, the cancerous and the corrupt. Bangladesh has it all—well, everything except for a Starbucks—but who knows for how long that particular corporate invasion will stay away.

Are you missing it yet?

In other news, I haven’t really quite settled back in to work yet, and am instead opting to take Bel out to Rajshahi next week for a festival Gina is putting on with her NGO, and meanwhile I will build them another Web site too. A Kenyan named Johnson (he reminds of Peterson, more than in name!) has moved in and Wilm did not waste any time occupying your old room, just as he said he would. Suffice to say it is not quite the same without you here.

Call anytime. Or just go and get Skype and look me up there as I’ll probably be on more often now as long as the damn power doesn’t go out all the time. I forgot my mobile in Canada so I’m back on my old SIM card, which you may not be able to call me on, but you can try: +880 172 172 0530.

Take care for now old friend!!! I’ll be in touch.

-Mikey