Abandoned mansions crumbling and fading under the glaring Bangladeshi sun line the once prosperous street in Painam Nagar, a forgotten village near Dhaka. Built by wealthy Hindu merchants between 1895 and 1905, their former owners fled the country after … Continued
Maybe, maybe not, but these guys all have interesting faces. These early morning gentlemen were hanging about the Rickshaw yard waiting for the morning chill to pass. Stay tuned for photos…from Jamaica, where i’m heading later this week!
I was riding my bike through the streets of Manhattan the other day and thought: “Holy crap, this is nuts.” New York streets are chaos. I’d never really noticed before how anarchic the pedestrians (and bikers) are in this city. … Continued
Heading to the office seemed to take on new meaning at the Dhakan rickshaw yard. The packed dirt ground was covered in trash and slick with maroon betel nut stains, the Bangladeshi equivalent of chewing tobacco. Animal, children and men wandered around … Continued
Not everybody in the Rickshaw yard trikes around town. A support staff of mechanics. vendors and hangers-on orbit the rickshaw universe, providing much needed services (like a caffeine or flat-tire fix). A while back I posted a photo of … Continued
Rickshaw drivers don’t mess around, but how can they when a diesel spewing bus is barreling down on them? An all too common site in Bangladesh. The rule of the Bangladeshi road: the biggest vehicle wins; cars, motorcycles and especially bicycle rickshaws swerve out … Continued
I’d just finished taking photos for The School of Hope, a slum school in Dhaka’s northern edge, when I stumbled upon it. A gaggle of bicycle rickshaws, crowded inside a rusted and drooping barbed wire fence baking in the early morning … Continued
Testy relations know no bounds in South Asia, where India, Pakistan and Bangladesh pester one another other over myriad issues such as border penetration (from terrorists in Kashmir to Bangladeshis seeking a better life in India) and the neighborhoods geographic … Continued
It beats and throbs like an adrenaline-soaked sprinter racing through the heart of Dhaka’s old city. Hindu Street, a long, narrow road with cracked sidewalks where bicycle rickshaws and pedestrians jostle for space on its narrow throughway while women in … Continued
It’s hard to imagine much ever changes in Dhaka’s crowded, frenetic old city. Rickshaws still clog its arteries. Soot spilling trucks narrowly squeeze through the scrum. Men wearing plaid headscarves plod the streets while women in saris glowing orange, lime … Continued