Finally, the sound of the car halt and the engine turn off woke me up from my light sleep. I realised that we reached our destination. The eagerness in me to arrive early had disappeared as I rubbed my eyes and quickly applied some make-up, my dream was disturbed. I stepped out of the car and felt very woozy and as green as the grass. We had been travelling for seven hours, but it felt longer. I hoped not to throw up in such a crowd since I was travel sick. On the attention of our arrival every villager had come to welcome and greet us, most of which were elderly. There were children running and playing around, they reminded me of my childhood days.
The village is a small area full of life-sized cottages standing in rows and opposite each one, with a large porch in the middle to enjoy the evening breeze and sunset. The daily sunset is an amazing sight. It turns the sky absolutely colourful leaving no blue parts of daylight. The sky usually becomes red and pink in different shades; it looks like an enormous vanilla flavoured ice-cream with strawberry flavoured sauce on top. I spent most of the evenings out on the porch with my village mates to enjoy the sunset and the summer breeze which rocked every coconut tree back and forth that was in sight. The breeze hit my body like a layer of thin ice, I shrilled. We played cards, chess and other board games I purchased from back in Wales.
I stepped into the unfurnished cottage and almost felt the filthy floorboards creak like opening a stiff door. I thought I was going to fall right through the floor. This place really needed refurbishing, how anyone could live in such a dump. I started to wander around this enormous cottage. There were dirty clothes scattered all over the floor in some of the bedrooms, and the windows were covered with a huge amount of spider web, it was obvious that they haven’t been touched or opened for a long time. It was a big cottage, but less people lived there so not all the rooms were used often. I decided to ajar the windows myself using all my strength because of the firmness. The smell was an eerie glance of damp and serious body odour. I walked towards a bedroom that was supposed to be mine for the time being, it was an average size, but it still needed maintenance. Suddenly, my stomach gave an abrupt roar. This meant only one thing, I was hungry.
I tried to remember where the kitchen was as I pictured it in my head. I walked through the landing and noticed the heavy iron door of the kitchen, I walked in. Everyone was already loading their plates with irresistible Indian food. Lain out on the king-sized table was aloo paratha, chicken biryani, bindi baji and so much more delicious food. I grabbed a clean plate with all my might.
“Where have you been”, everyone asked.
I ignored them all; I was too hungry to speak. The food was very filling, it tasted so different from the usual food eaten in Wales, but tastier. For dessert I had mango flavoured cheesecake, it was inspiring. The culture is so different compared to where I live. I got used to it quickly.
Poverty is a serious matter in Bangladesh. Every corner of a street is full of homeless inhabitants. Beggars would often pass by as we watch them in despair. They need help. We even invited a few beggars into our cottage to offer them food and everyday goods like unwanted clothes, they wouldn’t refuse. Every rich family is supposed to donate at least 10% of their earnings to the poor in Bangladesh. We donate 30% every month.
