Welcome Back

During the 45 minute flight between Dhaka and Chittagong I was given a snack box with a samosa, pakora, and sandwich inside. I wasn't hungry but the sari draped stewardess insisted and added a mango juice box to the mix. I sat with the boxes perched on my knees until we were landing when I inexplicably stuffed them into my purse and carried them off the plane.

I picked up my luggage and made my way street side where I had hoped to find a CNG to take me the final half hour of my trip. No luck. The three CNG's that were there were quickly filled by other passengers so I stood frantically wondering what to do next. Of course, I played it cool for the other passengers, making sure they could never tell that I hadn't planned to stand in the humid sunshine with a couple of suitcases and no way to get home. Luckily, an entrepreneur with a van offered me a ride and after a quick negotiation (I'm not much of a barterer) we headed off to his van.

Crossing the street put me directly into the midst of the tiny hungry beggars so sadly common here. A little boy, maybe around five, with a toddler on his hip followed me for a while. Sometimes he'd lightly hold my fingers. Sometimes he'd stroke my arm. I pulled the snack box out of my purse and handed it over. He broke into a surprised grin, held the prize over his head, and took off running down the street.

I had a ridiculous cozy feeling inside knowing I had made this little kid so dang happy for just a few moments. I walked along with a lighter step towards my ride home and as I approached it I realized I was being followed by two airport security guards. They were wearing the threatening purple/turquoise/khaki camouflage that inspires my cautious suspicion. I stopped with the driver by the van. The guards stop two.

"Hello Madam." One of them says. Tall with a mustache.

"Hello." I say.

"I see you give something to the children."

"Yes," I admit.

"Ah." He smiles at the other, a short man, skinny, who is also smiling. "This is not good. It's... illegal."

"I just gave them some food. They were hungry." I'm confused. Why are they smiling so much?

Short and Skinny responds, "Yes, and I'm hungry too." I'm catching on now and tell them I have nothing left and if I did I would give it to the kids anyway. They think this is pretty funny.

Mustache starts again, "Is illegal but I forget for maybe twenty dollars." Short and Skinny nods. Apparently he could forget for twenty bucks too.

They were definitely the most cheerful hustlers I've ever encountered. They kept at it, asking for 10, then 5, then just one dollar. They never seemed the slightest bit disappointed when I refused and even waved and smiled as we drove away.

So, in summary, I made it back to Chittagong. Safe and Sound.